"Are you sure about this?" Peter watched the little three dot icon pop up. And it kept doing its little animation for quite a while, before the answer showed up in chat. The answer had him thinking for a few seconds, looking at the screen of his mobile phone. His thumbs danced over the keyboard "What's my time-frame here?" Again with the three dots. But the reply showed up much quicker this time. "I didn't mean tonight. How about the next few days?" A quick confirmation later, and Peter started making plans.
The plans came to be the next night.
A cookie-cutter suburban bungalow, in a cookie cutter suburban neighborhood. Peter casually strolled down the sidewalk as if he belonged. The trick was to just act natural, He was just some guy making his way through the neighborhood after midnight. Doing absolutely nothing to attract attention. Glances out of the corner of his eye to check his surroundings, until he was by the right house. That was the only time he did anything that might rouse suspicion. A quick look around to see that nobody was there, and then a quick sprint up the driveway and around the back of the house.
Shielded from the road by the house, shielded from the prying eyes of neighbors by a fence, he snooped around a little. The info he'd gotten was correct. Single father of two and his son gone fishing for days, one window left carelessly open.
Climbing through it was easy enough, a lawn chair to get a boost. Pulling himself up by his arms, careful to not make too much noise kicking his feet at the wall. Getting inside, he had to carefully find his footing. It was a storage room, with all the clutter it involved. An old fridge in a corner humming away, and a mess of boxes, clothes, shoes, old sports equipment and whatnot just stuffed in with the intention of sorting it out and cleaning it up some other time.
He still managed to navigate his way to the door in the darkness and slip out into an equally dark hallway.
The room he was after was at the far end of the hall, across from him, the side of the house facing the street. Steeling himself, he started going over the things in his pockets one last time, making sure he had all he needed in the right place. Ski mask, gloves, bandana, zip-tie, knife, lube. It was all where it needed to be. He pulled the ski mask and the gloves on. On silent feet he made his way towards the door. To Peter's ears, the door handle mad a hellish metallic scream of springs and bolts moving. But it got no reaction from inside. And he sprung into action.
* * *
Lauren woke up to the feeling of a hand in a leather glove grabbing her by the forehead, pulling her face up from the pillow. As she drew her a startled breath through her mouth, something was jammed into it, filling it. Soft, weird, and fuzzy. Instinct made her shout out in surprise, but the only sound she got out was a muffled "Mmmgh!"
Something heavy pressed down on her lower back. The full weight of a person. A sudden spike of adrenaline shot through her, but it was not soon enough. Lauren could feel her left wrist get grabbed, then a sharp feeling as something thin and strong dug into the skin of it, accompanied by a odd sound of plastic of plastic. It was yanked back, while another hand started grabbing her right arm, pulling at it.
She fought, as hard as she could, but the way she was laying didn't give her much leverage to speak of. Her left arm was already twisted back, held in place by someone resting their weight on it and keeping it in a tight grip that pinned it down. The grip on her right arm shifted to her elbow, and what little she was able to flail, was of no use. Strength against strength, the person grabbing her was way stronger, the leverage bringing her arm to her back was just more than she could fight against. And then she felt the same thin little digging sensation, and the sound of the plastic zip-tie closing tight.
The weight shifted on her back, but not enough to allow her to turn onto her side, or to squirm away in any sort of way. She tried twisting her upper body, catching a look over her shoulder. But all she could see was a pair of eyes and a pair of lips through the holes of the black form of what had to be a black ski mask towering over her in the poorly lit room. "Stay still bitch!" came a voice, rough and with a hard edge to it. A gloved hand painfully tangled itself into Laruen's hair, before she felt her face get pressed down into the mattress. The voice was distorted, deepened. A threatening growl.
The hand let go of her hair, and roughly grabbed her leg. A knee was forced in between her legs, and the combined effort pried her legs open.
In the darkness over her, Lauren heard a metallic click. The sound for some reason filled her with a faint sense of dread. "You better lay fucking still, or you risk doing something that will get you hurt!" Cold metal against the inside of her thigh made her gasp against whatever wad of cloth had been shoved into her mouth. She felt something tugging at her panties, the fabric straining a little, before a snap left the cloth fall back against her skin again. Much looser than before. Breath caught in Lauren's throat as she realized what had happened. Her panties had been fucking cut through at her crotch, and now just hung off the elastic around her hips.
* * *
Peter spent only half a second admiring the sight of the freshly uncovered goods, while he folded away the blade of the knife again, and tucked it back into his jacket pocket. Moving methodically and according to the plan in his mind, he grabbed the pillow of the bed, holding it by the top seam. The shook the pillow out of the case, and letting it fall to the floor. With both hands he pulled the pillowcase over the girl's head, pulling it tight under her chin like a hood. Jamming her face back into the mattress, he placed a knee between her shoulders, carefully resting enough weight on it to keep her firmly pinned. She tried kicking blindly around with her feet but connected with nothing. Peter still rewarded her with a slap to the back of the head.
He undid the clasp of his belt, pulled it off. Making sure to hold the girl firmly pressed down with his weight, he stretched the belt across her face, adjusted it a little, made sure to find her mouth, and making sure to keep it in place as he looped it around her head, got it tightened. The bandana crammed into her mouth, the pillow case hood pressed taught over her face, and the belt on top of it all, made for one hell of a gag. The hand he had to take his glove off to operate the folding knife was held over the girl's mouth for a few seconds, making sure there were still warm little puffs of air escaping through the fabric of the pillowcase. Just to make sure the girl still could breathe through her nose.
Finally, Peter felt comfortably in control. So he got off from where he'd been kneeling, grabbed her by the legs, and pulled at her, dragging her lower body out over the edge of the bed, before dropping her down.
* * *
