Chapter Tweenty-Nine

At 8:45 p.m., Turk worked his way up the fire escape. He reached what appeared to be a bedroom window on the second floor and delicately jimmied the lock. He entered the apartment without making a sound.

The girl had left the hall light on and the Turk could see his way around the bedroom where the light shined in. He moved out into the hall and down to the living room. Its windows looked out to the street. He could just see Lenny’s car. He flashed a light and Lenny moved on.

About 9:50, a car pulled up in the driveway outside. He peeked out the window and saw the headlights of the car go out. Moments later, he could hear the footsteps of the girl as she walked slowly up the stairs. Her heels made an echoing sound in the hallway, a sound that the oldsters downstairs were probably used to and which would not disturb them. Turk slipped into the bathroom , which was just opposite the entrance to the apartment.

Turk contemplated the blissful ignorance of the girl as she mounted the stairs. Little did she know that she had eaten her last meal as a free woman, gone to her last class, read her last book, and was about to take her last breath of free air. She had made the last decision about what she would wear in the morning and what she would do with her day. She had taken a last look at anyone she knew, collected her last paycheck, driven a car for the last time. From now on, all that happened to her would be decided by others. From now until she drew her last breath.

A key slid into the lock and Turk heard the tumblers of the lock turn. He could see the door opening from his vantage point in the bathroom through the crack between the door and the door jamb. The girl entered, oblivious to the danger lurking within her apartment. He decided to wait until she got settled in to the apartment before making his move.

He could hear the girl dump her schoolbooks on the kitchen table and seconds later, open a kitchen cabinet. He heard water being poured, the microwave turned on, and the clatter of a spoon and cup being placed on the kitchen table, a chair being moved. He heard a book opened. She was doing her homework. If this kept up, he might be here for hours.

Suddenly, Turk heard a chair scrape on the kitchen floor. He heard the girl’s footsteps approach the bathroom. She was either going to take a leak or go to the living room. It was the latter, as the girl passed by the door, Turk sprang.

It was easy to get his arm around the girl’s waist and his hand across her mouth. The girl had time only to let out a little squeak as his palm silenced her. His grip was strong as he carried her struggling form into the living room. Holding her in the air to prevent her from stamping on the floor Turk leaned towards her ear to give her a whispered threat when she kicked him solidly in the shin with her heavy heeled shoe, first one and then the other. His grip loosened slightly as he reacted to the unexpected pain. The girl then swung her head back and belted his jaw with the back of her head.

Turk was stunned by the girl’s quick reactions to being grabbed. Doubtless she had attended a self-defense course and was told the tricks. Next she would be trying to get at his balls. She was twisting around in the Turk’s grip, getting ready to knee him and to scream bloody murder as soon as he let go of her mouth to cup his excruciating testicles. Well, Turk had not survived years on the streets for nothing. He was stunned by the onslaught, yes, but not fatally so. His reactive self took over. Keeping his hand over the girl’s mouth, squeezing it as hard as he could, he took his other arm from around the girl’s waist and gave her a quick chop in the upper thigh. The girl moaned in pain, the noise muted by the hand over her mouth. He took this split second’s respite to permit the girl to finish her twisting so that she now faced him. Turk had to act quickly. He needed to react before she did so that he could forestall a knee in his groin, a blow that might disable even him, at least long enough for the girl to raise an alarm.

Quickly, with the expertise of many a struggle behind him, Turk gave the girl a jab in her solar plexus. Her eyes widened and she gasped for air. This gave Turk enough time to pull a small throw pillow off of chair in the living room and push her face into it. He then kicked her feet out from under her and carried her over to the sofa where he jammed her head into the seat, face down. He could hear her wheezing for air behind the pillow, a sound almost stifled by the pressure on her head from behind. Turk quickly removed a pair of handcuffs from his pants pocket and slapped it on to the girl’s right wrist. She, even in her distress, could tell what he was doing since she started to flail her other arm. Turk had repositioned himself directly behind the girl, immobilizing her feet. He leaned into her back and let the pressure of his body replace the pressure on the back of her head. With two hands free, it was a simple matter of grabbing the waving arm and enclosing it in the other clasp of the handcuffs. She was secure.

He lifted the girl’s head slowly to make sure she wasn’t going to cry out and then pulled her back so that she was lying on her back on the floor. He pulled her away from the couch so that her feet could be extended. Her eyes were wide with pain and surprise as Turk placed his hand back over her mouth. He sat athwart the girl’s body, his ass on her thighs. She was looking at him with a look now of fear and hatred.

Turk pulled out his long blade, “the convincer.” He ran it along the girl’s neck, blade side up. She could feel the cold steel of the knife. She shuddered. “Let’s cut the bullshit, honey. No more resistance or I’ll scar you with this beauty up and down your pretty little face.” The girl’s eyes widened again. Turk knew that this threat was an effective one. Would a girl rather be raped or have her face all cut up and scarred? A rape you could get psychotherapy for. A nasty scar six or seven inches long from the cheek to the jaw was something else. The girl nodded quickly and emphatically, eyes on the hand holding the knife.

Leaving the knife at the girl’s throat, Turk removed his hand from her mouth and pulled a ball gag out of a pocket of his “campaign” pants. “Open wide sweetheart,” he cooed to the girl lying beneath him. Tears were now glistening in her eyes. She opened her mouth docilely and the gag was jammed in. After putting the knife away and belting the gag at the rear of the girl’s head, the Turk turned his attention to her feet. Pulling the other pair of handcuffs from his pocket, he clicked one and the other end on her ankles. He then flipped her over, brought her feet up towards her hands and, using a third pair of handcuffs, clipped the ones around her wrists to the one around her ankles. Voila, it was done.

The Turk took stock of himself and the girl. He listened carefully for the sounds of any noises downstairs. After waiting a minute or so, and hearing only the labored breathing of the hogtied girl, he rose to his feet. Lenny was not due for a few more hours and Turk began to settle himself for the long wait. He would administer the medication about a half hour before the girl was to be taken out to the van. Until then he would have to amuse himself.

Turk decided he would look around the place, as was his want on such occasions. He found a small case of jewelry in the bedroom, nothing of note in there. He found a check book and a bank book in the top drawer to the dresser. Small change. He did find something of interest in the bottom drawer of the nightstand. It was a dildo, shaped expertly to look like a cock. It even had a battery powered motor in it that made it vibrate and squirm. He would have some fun with this.

He returned to the living room and saw that the girl had remained stock still. Turk pulled the girl to the center of the room and rolled her on to her back. Time to get a good look at this slut.

He leaned over and looked the girl in the eye. “You and I are going to have a little fun now, so just cooperate and you won’t get hurt.”Her eyes widened, as he expected they would and she started to plead from behind her gag. He decided that another demonstration of force was appropriate and so he chopped her again in the thigh. She moaned and then looked at him. She knew he meant business.

He began to unbutton her blouse. Her chest heaved with panic and fear. Turk took no notice and continued his job. When he had the last button undone, he pulled the sides of the shirt back over the girl’s arms. Revealed were two delightful orbs encased in a cotton bra. She was a simple girl after all. He had found no fancy lingerie in her bedroom. It was nice of her, though, to choose this day a bra that opened from the front.

The girl was sniffling now. Turk took no notice as he unclipped the bra and the orbs fell loose. As expected, the breasts were delectable. Marble white and made for the whip. He pushed against one of them with his hand and felt the warmth of her body. Her nipples were surrounded by small areolae, bumpy and with a few small strands of white hair on each. Turk took the opportunity to lick at one nipple and then the other. She tasted of sweat, fear. He then took one strand of hair from her left breast and quickly pulled it out. The girl flinched. It hurt, but not that much. One by one, the hairs came out, six in all. The girl’s breathing became heavier as she protested the insult to her body.

He lingered at the view of the girl’s solid, firm breasts. They were about medium in size, not large for her frame, but not small. The skin was very pale and he could see, even in the dim light from the hallway, the blue of veins beneath the surface. Turk took both breasts in his hands and he rolled them against the girl’s prostrate body. He then tightened his grasp of them, squeezing them tighter and tighter until there was a moan from beneath the gag. He looked at the girl’s face and a drop of water, a lone tear, ran down from the corner of her right eye.

“Too bad,” he thought.