Debbie had dialed the police station desk three times. Each time as a voice greeted her she had hung up. The note dropped through her letter box was proof surely? But she'd not wanted anyone to know, hadn't she? Just forget about the whole thing, but now this. She was about to dial again. Then the phone rang.
"Hello," she said her head confused.
"Hi Debbie; it's nice to speak with you again."
She nearly dropped the phone. It was him the filthy black thug. It was the one who had sent her the note. He didn't wait for her to begin a volley of abuse, instead began to talk about her parents. He knew they were out, he knew all sorts of details about them. His manner was as calm and as menacing as ever. The note he explain wasn't an invitation it was an order.
"Let's not argue about choice honey, you haven't got any. Be at that address at 4pm and maybe when you return your house and family won't have burnt to the ground."
Debbie shivered in disgust. "You can't keep doing this." She shouted down the receiver.
The phone went dead.
She read the note again shaking her head. "Hi Debs meet me at the station; I would like an hour of your time. B"
Across town Stacey had refused to speak to her husband for the third time that day. Her mother made excuses for her once again and then hung up. The past four weeks had been like a nightmare. She remembered the face of the ambulance driver when he'd been called that evening; their embarrassing story of a sex game gone wrong. She was so ashamed; the hospital A&E nurses applying jelly and tugging, their faces saying a thousand words. But she couldn't tell them the truth instead she had just laid there red faced. Now she had her disgraced mother still tutting to herself a month later. She'd not spoken to her husband for three weeks, made up a pack of red faced lies to everyone and now this. She read the note again. The note described her younger sister in menacing detail before giving instructions where to meet, signed B.
That afternoon Debbie stood in her long raincoat, skirt and boots at the bus station terminus. She looked up and down the busy street.
"What was she thinking off, this was crazy."
She turned to hurry away when she heard the pap of a horn. Across the road was a black pick up, an unmistakable shape at the wheel.
Stacey looked at the clock as she had hundreds of times that day as she agonized over what to do. It was past 4pm. She'd made her decision she had decided to say fuck you. She was scared but they wouldn't hurt her sister would they? Her mobile rang; it was the Boss and he was very impatient.
"Stacey lets not fuck around, take your cute ass and get in the van parked outside. Do it now, and don't speak to anyone. Her sister walked in from college as the phone went dead.
"Hi sis there's a big black guy parked over the road he say's he knows you. Seemed a bit creepy? Said he knew me but I don't remember him." Suddenly all the young blondes resolve had been washed away.
Two minutes later Stacey opened the van door easing her thin waist and ample butt onto the seats. The Boss smiled to himself then began to drive. Stacey just sat there like a statue. She was dressed in t-shirt and jeans, sexy sling back sandals on her feet. Her freckled face was tense, lips tight shut. The Boss didn't want to talk and drove the van a few blocks down before pulling into an alley.
"Get in the back." He ordered.
Stacey nervously got out and turned the rear door hatch. As the doors opened the horrendous zipper face of the Mask leered out his muscled arms reaching to grip her wrist. She gave a yelp of fright seeing another figure, a young booted woman sat in the corner hands tied a cloth sack over her head. The Mask pulled her inside slamming the door shut. She struggled but he bound her hands. The other girl writhed at the sounds of the struggle till finally Stacey's mouth was taped and a bag put over her head.
The van began to speed away to its destination. In the humid dark rear of the van the Mask leered and gloated at his captives.
"That's right two of you this time. Your both so lovely and fuckable, and both so accommodating."
He laughed as he stroked Debbie's booted leg. He traced up to her jumper.
"We've got lots of games for you two to play together." He laughed again seeing both bagged head tense in realization. "Yes that's right girls, you're gonna get hot and horny with each other."
His hand went to Stacey's jean zipper. "But don't worry we'll play as well." He unbuttoned her waist top then slid the zipper down. Debbie could hear struggling and grunting. She shifted feeling the person next to her been man handled. The Mask had Stacey's trousers all the way off her, sandal heels looking sexy on her bare long legs. Stacey groaned through her taped mouth as she was pushed on her back her thighs being forced out wide against her will as she had experienced once before.
The Mask paused to turn to the covered head of Debbie. "Don't worry you hard titted bitch, it'll be your turn soon enough." His finger tugged aside Stacey's white small panties. "Now then Stacey what shall we fuck you with?"
The Mask held her panties to one side both his thumbs spreading her labia teasing her clit. Stacey wriggled the gag and head sack still in place. He twisted a fore finger into her hole, turning it back and forth like he was clearing out her tube. Stacey could feel his familiar fat finger tickling inside her but could do nothing like usual.
"How had she ever got herself into this mess?" She thought to herself trying to ignore his pussy attentions.
Suddenly Debbie felt the hood been tugged off and she blinked and shook her hair from her face.
"Might as well let you watch," sneered the face masked man.
He was in a one piece boiler suit with nothing underneath, his hairy arms and neck looking as greasy and unwashed as ever. The crooked zipper mask made him look like some freakish evil clown the leather always looking shiny and wet. She could see the bare long legs and ultra waif body of the other girl. It was strange but now she seemed even surer she knew her. First she'd heard the few words and startled cry when she had opened the back door. The girl had a bimbo type voice a little nasally, reminiscent of her sisters best friend. Now the girls figure matched and Debbie's guts turned in embarrassment.
"Oh fuck it can't be, no it's can't!"
Her eyes widened in horror as she saw what the Mask had in his hand. It was a cordless pistol grip screwdriver. The type you use to screw shelving together with. On the tip where the interchangeable bit should be the Mask had fashioned his own device. It was a long dildo. One that looked like a man's cock, flesh colored with life like ribs. It was stuck or attached in some way to the chuck head. The dildo drooped as the Mask held the pistol grips like a weapon the rubber shaft been very soft and malleable. The Mask gave a quick press of the trigger and the cock began to spin at maybe four or more revolutions a second the length straightening out to a more firm rod. "Whhhhrrrrrrrrr!"
Debbie tried to shout but could only release muffled grunts. Stacey herself tried to move but was pushed back down her hood still thankfully on. The Mask barked an order.
"Open up you little bitch. Com, on I know you've taken a lot bigger than this." He spread her lips taking his finger off the trigger the rod coming to a stop. He pressed the motionless tip at her tight little entrance.
The narrow man type cock eased into Stacey's pussy the girl tensing a little.
"What was it? It felt soft but long, was it his cock? No, no it can't be, more like plastic."
She moaned as the length continued in deeper and deeper. "Oh god what is it?"
Debbie couldn't look away from the pinned girl, her thighs wide apart, the power tool cock almost all the way in. The van rumbled along and in the poor roof lit half light she saw the Mask's zipper mouth dribbling spittle as he delighted in his little game.
