Chapter 2 -- The Handling of Elizabeth
It was business, but this part of it was quite pleasant business.
I take the ends of the length of rope. I hold them together, and straighten out the rope, until it has a loop in the middle. I pull the loose ends through the loop, forming a kind of slipknot. The slipknot goes around both of her ankles. I pull the knot, tight, and already, Elizabeth's ankles are fastened tight!
Now, it's just a matter of winding the double strands around, and over, and under, and through her light brown heels. Heels that help make that sweet, dewdrop ass of hers look so tasty, when she sashays around the bank manager ... and around other perverts, like me.
Four times, I wind the double strands around her ankles, before cinching them with the loose ends between, and knotting the ropes hard, twice, to keep her in place.
Then, I reach for another length of rope.
This time, I grasp her knees, and lock them in the crook of my arm. Again, loose ends, straighten, loop around her legs just above her knees, pull the ends through, and pull the double strands tight. Then, turn the rope, circle her trembling lower thighs until they are fastened, and cinched, and knotted. Tight.
I mop my brow, and admire my work. I smile to myself: "Nice. Stems. Lady."
I can't resist rubbing my hand along the length of her thighs. I squeeze them, as my hand strays upward. Something on my black glove catches the fine, delicate mesh of her sheer stocking, and causes a long, thin run in it. She jumps, and wriggles slightly, at my touch.
That's a good thing. Fear is good. She'll be well motivated to 'cooperate' with us.
I glance over my shoulder as I finish my task, and Chano is still working. He's focused, somewhat, on the tying, but his eyes and his hands also roam over the woman's figure, especially that tight little ass of hers. Somehow, Chano's fingers seem to probe and massage sweet Elizabeth's buttocks, each time he turns a coil of rope around her wrists. And each time he gropes her, it seems, he lingers a little longer, his fingers probe a little deeper, and his large hand spreads out to cover more and more of her tiny tight cheeks.
For the first time, I relax enough to enjoy watching him finish her off.
The hem of that flouncey little white dress is all the way up above her thighs. She kicks, weakly, at my leg ropes, and her sweet little bum bounces and jiggles beneath her baby-blue panties. One of her garter straps works loose, and the stocking top begins to roll down her thigh, with her struggles.
I press down on her legs, while Chano cinches and knots her wrists. He turns her over, and props her up against his broad chest. Now, I get a great upskirt view of the struggling damsel! Mmm, ... those legs do go quite a ways up, don't they? I lick my lips as I follow them up along her disheveled, torn stockings; to just that patch of creamy thigh above her stocking tops; to those teeny barely there panties, which shimmer as her legs squirm and churn inside my ropes.
I watch silently as Chano mauls sweet Elizabeth's perky little titties while he turns coil after coil of rope around her chest. Above her breasts, and below them, and crossing between them, and still circling around the pretty kidnapped hostage!
When he's finished knotting her rope in the back, he begins cupping her titties in the palms of his hands. He rolls her nipples through the nearly-see-through summer dress. He pokes and pulls at them with his long, powerful fingers. He tugs at the top of her dress, rolling it down almost to her shoulders. He plays his fingertips along the top of her dress, and plunges them wickedly into her cleavage. Then, down inside her bra.
If I didn't know any better, I'd have said that Chano was having more fun tying her up than I did, ... which I knew was impossible. I made a conscious effort to cross my legs. I am almost embarrassed by how hard I was becoming, just watching him tie her up!
Elizabeth mewls, quietly, slightly beneath that cruel duct tape gag wrapped around her head. Her eyes plead, begging for release ... but I know what kind of 'release' that Chano and I are thinking about.
Presently, I hear seagulls calling as we slow down. Out of the city, now, and down on the docks. We are pretty much safe, now.
Elizabeth grows a bit more agitated when we stop. Harris gets out, and rolls a heavy wooden door to the side. Elizabeth continues to mewl helplessly into her gag as we cruise inside the cavernous warehouse floor, and hear the door roll shut, behind us. She churns, weakly. Once more, she implores me with her eyes, to let her go, ... I think.
Harris drives us into the deepest recess of the warehouse, near the manager's office, at the far end of the floor.
I'd been impressed, so far, that the fellas had followed protocol and had remained wordless, up to this point. I clip the 'voice-box' scrambler around my neck, and break the silence: "End of the line, Miss Lady."
The scrambler makes my voice sound mechanical and alien, like something from a grade-B sci-fi movie. But the guys understand well enough: Harris climbs down and begins setting up the computers. I climb out the back and reach for the pretty hostage.
"I got this," Chano volunteered, in his un-disguised voice. Ah, well, it was almost according to protocol.
Chano grabs the pretty girl with the trim figure in one arm. He pulls her through the sliding side door. And, without breaking a sweat, or taking even a deep breath, he gathers her legs in his arms, and hoists her high up into the air! She falls, bent at the waist, over his shoulder.
The big man locks her legs in place with one, long arm. And, with his free, leather-gloved hand, he begins exploring the back of the poor girl's thighs.
I watch from behind, as he slowly plays up, and down her trembling legs; as he squeezes and gropes and massages her thighs. I see him slip his fingers between her legs, even as she tries to squeeze them tight, to keep him out. He just chuckles, and slides them deeper, and higher, up near those wispy, baby blue panties. She whimpers, and jerks, and "mmmphs!" in protest.
"Callate, mamacita!" Then, he slides his fingers nearer and higher, toward her femininity.
I almost think we were about to shoot a porno movie!
Up against a faded whitewashed wall, is a bare, light-gray mattress. Chano hauls Elizabeth to the mattress, pawing and squeezing and caressing her pretty bum all along the way. He warms her cheeks in the palm of his one, massive hand, and then finally lays her down -- gently -- upon the mattress.
