"Heya, mister, where ya going?" the young woman says in a very flirty tone to the man that is walking on the sidewalk. The tone she uses is enough to grab the man's attention to which he stops to look.
Night hasn't fallen yet, but it's getting close. The sun is setting and there will not be much more time for the day. It's that special time where things appear more romantic, yet hard to see. This is exactly why the eighteen-year-old girl loves this time of day.
"Damn, you're very pretty girl," the thirty-something man says as he looks at the approaching woman. The girl was sitting on the steps of the house that the man was passing, chilling with one of her friends.
"Feel like partying?" the eighteen-year-old girl asks, being even more flirty as she stands up and walks right up to the man. To this the man's friendly demeanor falls some, with him becoming crestfallen.
"Ah, come on girl. Don't tell me ya pimping yourself," the man then asks with a sincere tone, clearly not liking the thought of her selling her body. It is clear by his tone that he doesn't like this type of life for anyone, especially one so young.
"You're what, eighteen, nineteen? Too young and too full of promise to do that. You should be in college, improving yourself. You can really mess your life up doing this," the man tells her, now looking at her not as a suitor but as something of a father figure. A father figure that needs to put some sense into her head since no one else has.
"Who said I'm selling myself? Maybe I just like to party. Only...I like to party with motherfuckas that have cash," the girl says, stepping back and showing attitude.
The man never sees her leg as she kicks at him, but he sure feels it. The woman, who is named Alma, kicks him right in the jewels, hard. The blow of it stuns the man, making him instantly bend over and grab his crotch with both hands, where Alma pushes him hard to make him fall over to the ground.
In a flash, Alma's hand is in his pockets, grabbing all that she can. To her great luck, she finds a small roll of paper money. Once she discovers this, she stops searching as this is a better haul than she could have hoped for.
Upon grabbing the money, Alma and her friend take off running, now showing they don't live at the house they were in front of at all. They were just camped out there making it nothing more than a scam.
"In twenty," Alma tells her friend as they run down the neighborhood sidewalk together. After this, Alma turns left at the corner and keeps running while her friend turns right and does the same. They split up to make it harder for anyone to track where they go. And in twenty minutes, they'll meet up in front of the Old Maker's Mart, which is an old gas station in front of the neighborhood to spend the money they just found.
Now a couple of blocks over, Alma stops running and tries to catch her breath. Bent over, she takes large gulps of air, feeling rather proud of herself. After looking around, she sees that she is alone here, meaning she got away with it. For a moment it sounded as if someone was on the phone nearby, but since Alma doesn't see anyone, she figured it doesn't matter.
This was the third guy today that's Alma and her friend robbed. They always targeted men because they are so easy to rob. All Alma has to do is put on a sexy voice or act like a scared daughter and the middle-aged losers eat it up. That's her mark of choice, middle age or older men, especially those that aren't married.
Beginning to walk again, Alma knows she is playing with fire as she is doing this in her own neighborhood, which makes it easy to get caught. But so far, no one has called the cops, which is the only thing she's scared of. Sure, there's a chance that her mom may find out what she's doing, especially since they live together, but her mom believes everything Alma says. Keep in mind that her mom works two jobs, so it's not like she knows what is going on.
Ever since she started, Alma has never run into any of her victims. She figures that they most likely are visiting friends in the neighborhood, or better yet, know better than to go outside for anything. This makes it so much easier for Alma as she's not scared of anyone coming at her for revenge.
Walking home, Alma counts the money that she got off the man. She does this in what she thinks is secret, but most anyone can tell what she's doing. And each bill that she counts she gets more and more excited. It causes her to stop being aware of her surroundings, which also occurs due to her being so close to her own house which makes her comfortable.
"Hello sugar," a woman greets right as Alma enters her driveway. Alma's plan was to go inside her house and change her clothes to make it harder for her to be recognized by the guy she robbed in case she has to see him again.
Confused by whomever is greeting her, Alma turns to face the new person. The tone of the person makes Alma stiffen up, wanting to look as if she's ready for a fight as the tone sounds upset.
Alma tensing up is just for show as Alma doesn't know how to fight at all. She's been in a few fights in her life but is terrible at it. The only fight she likes to be in is when her side has more people, and the other side is alone. When those are the odds, she'll beat someone black and blue.
Something then happens that Alma wasn't expecting. It's something that's never happened to Alma before, and it legit stuns Alma to the point she can't move. She can't scream or run or even say her own name, and that's because this new woman shoves a gun right into her mouth.
Time stops for Alma as she very much knows it is a real handgun by the taste of it. The cold barrel in her mouth is hard and oily, a taste she's never had before which terrifies her. It sends a cold as ice feeling over her, where she thinks she may pass out from being so scared. In a flash, everything in her life changes.
Alma's mind tells her many things to do, like to put her hands up or start begging the woman not to shoot, but in her fear-state, Alma just stares at the woman. Any thoughts or plans Alma's brain may send are now stuck in her fear trance, making her completely helpless.
As long seconds pass, Alma realizes that she doesn't recognize the woman who looks to be in her late twenties but feels like she should. There's something about the woman's face that looks familiar, like she's seen her before but doesn't know from where or why.
But one thing is for sure, the woman means business. Alma can look serious and even criminal like, but it's all for sure, unlike the look of the woman. The look in her eyes shows that she isn't someone to mess with. That she'll throw down with the biggest and scariest and most likely win.
Alma even is able to take in how the woman is dressed, which is with a form fitting pair of black slacks and a satin blue top which looks extremely expensive. Not just that, but it shows how rock hard the woman's body is, like she lives at the gym.
The woman's face is very pretty, but in a strange way. She's not model pretty, but pretty in the sense you know she's loyal and honest. That she'll never betray you nor lie. That what you see is what you get, and she'll be upfront with you. And it's that trait that scares Alma at the moment as people like that are the type you don't want to cross.
"That wasn't a very nice thing you did to that man, who was only showing concern for you," the woman tells Alma in a tsk-tsk-tsk manner. The way the woman says it makes eighteen-year-old Alma think of one of her high school teachers.
"I don't like girls like you," the twenty-something woman with the gun tells Alma with conviction. When she says this, Alma can clearly see the hate in her eyes. It's a look that says she wouldn't mind pulling the trigger.
"And I say girls, and not women because you aren't a woman. You are nothing but a little fucking brat. A spoiled little shit wanting people to think she's a princess. Even if you make it to be fifty, you will always be nothing but a little girl who runs off to daddy for help," the woman berates Alma, her eyes flashing with anger.
"Little bitches like you get one tiny bit of power, like finding out how easy it is to trick men, and it makes you think ya a fucking queen," the woman growls, her hate for Alma growing. This makes Alma swallow her dry mouth as she actually believes the woman. Ten minutes ago, Alma would have argued to the death that the woman was wrong, but not now. Not when she's been made to feel this pathetic and scared.
"I'm gonna show ya real power," the woman with the gun says, a creepy and sinister smile appearing on her face which makes Alma feel like peeing herself.
Scared to the point of shaking, Alma has no clue what the woman is going to do. So, Alma stands still, not moving at all as if the woman wouldn't be able to see her unless she moves. There's no sound coming out of Alma at all, not even a "please don't kill me."
"Take off your clothes," the woman with the gun then orders Alma, pushing the gun just a tad deeper into the eighteen-year old's mouth. It pushes back so far that Alma gags in reaction. Yet Alma doesn't step back or even move her head. Instead, she allows the gun to stay in its new, deeper position in her mouth.
Fear and confusion pump into Alma, making her not question what she heard. The woman clearly said for her to remove her clothes, and the woman doesn't look the type to suffer fools. Alma knows her options are to remove her clothes or end up dead.
And so, in her own front yard, with the last of the sun's rays peeking through the sky, Alma kicks off her shoes. She kicks them off so they land next to the woman's feet. After doing this, she steps on each sock to remove them as well.
Alma does this so willingly because she is convinced this is a robbery. That this woman is going to steal her shoes and whatever else, and then go sell what she can. This makes sense as Alma knows how much her shoes are worth because she stole them off someone else.
"Keep going brat," the woman mocks Alma, seeing tears forming in the eighteen-year old's eyes.
Alma unbuttons the jeans she is wearing. Doing this makes Alma's eyes look away from the woman as a thick layer of humiliation moves over her. Of all the places to be made to do this, your own front yard isn't a place you would consider. But Alma does as she is told, undoing the button then the zipper.
Unlike most girls she knows, Alma doesn't go for skin-tight clothing. Instead, she wears relaxed clothes, the sort that doesn't show her the contours of her body that much. This is something Alma very much does on purpose as she doesn't want people to see her curves.
