Thanks AB.
The Club of Chester County – Teagan and Aly
Chapter 17: Bound and Gagged, again (facial, bond, racism, inter, humil, psych, drugs)
Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction. All characters and locations are made up. The acts portrayed are also fictional. Rape is wrong, racism is wrong, violence is wrong.
Author’s Second Note: Thank you for your patience. As a warning, the racism continues for the rest of this section.
Ray, the old man, walked over to them carrying zip ties. He zipped Teagan’s wrists first, then Aly’s. The girls didn’t fight or complain at this point, they merely whimpered as the tight pieces of plastic bit into their wrists. He then grabbed each of Blaine’s legs and tied a zip tie around them, then a third one connecting them and a fourth connecting his feet to his legs. After Blaine was tied up, Ray pulled out a roll of clear packing tape and wrapped it several times around Blaine’s head, covering his mouth.
The girls were paying so much attention to Blaine getting tied up, they didn’t notice the chubby man come up to them until he was right next to them.
“Turn your faces this way.” Sam said to the girls, and what they saw was repellant. Sam was jerking off right over their faces.
“Open up, bitches.” Sam said as he furiously whacked off. Aly and Teagan, still covered in Blaine’s cum, opened their mouths, just in time for Sam to cum, shooting a blast of semen into Teagan’s mouth, another on Aly’s nose, and a third on their cheeks. After his orgasm, he wiped his dick with Teagan’s hair.
Just as soon as Sam was out of the way, Steve stepped up and took his spot, jerking his cock as hard as he could at the faces of the two girls.
“Yeah, you fucking whores, fucking wear this you fucking sluts!” With that, Steve erupted a load on them, starting with hitting both of their mouths and getting some in their eyes and hair. This time Steve used Aly’s hair to wipe the last of his cum off of his dick, then spit in her open mouth.
Ray was next, and he aimed right at their eyes, blasting jet after jet first at Teagan, then Aly, then back again until his last spurt dribbled out. Ray wiped his dick on Aly’s hair.
That left Joe. The girls could barely keep their eyes open at this point, for fear of having the salty semen get in their eyes with no chance of cleaning it.
“Tongue’s out, now.” The girls obeyed the leader, out of fear for what else he might do. Teagan and Aly stuck their tongues out, bumping into each other. Joe aimed and fired right at their open mouths, alternating back and forth between them. He deposited quite a load on and in their mouths.
“Swallow.” Both girls closed their mouths and swallowed as much of the white goo as they could. They kept their eyes closed, so they didn’t see what happened next, but they could swear they heard pictures being taken.
After cumming on them, Joe wiped his dick all over Teagan’s hair. He looked at his smartwatch. It was 12:37AM. The other guys were all taking pictures of these two beauties covered in cum, and made sure that every camera got a closeup. They were even able to unlock Teagan’s phone using facial recognition and took several pictures, making sure they didn’t end up in any shared family photo album. It was kind of a dick move to change her desktop pic from her holding her little Cairn Terrier to one of the pics of her covered in cum, but Joe got a kick out of it.
Then Joe had an idea. He took his phone and copied all of her contact info he could find. Number, name, emails, info for her favorite contacts, her social media profiles, and the like. He then added a dummy friend profile he used for stalking purposes. It looked like any generic teen girl, so unless she combed through all of her followers, she’d never find it. This way, he could keep an eye on her. After that, he sent her a virus from a disposable and anonymous email address to track her actions. It would look just like any other location app like Weather or Instagram.
He didn’t have the same luck with Aly’s phone, since hers had a thumbprint reader, and this would be too obvious. Joe made sure he was out of sight of the girls (who couldn’t see anything with all of the cum in their eyes), went over to Blaine and held the phone in front of him. Blaine hesitated for a moment, before typing in the passcode, 121212. Joe then pulled the same tricks with Aly and her phone, but he didn’t take any pictures with it. That would be too obvious. Instead, he texted Aly the pics from Teagan’s phone, and forwarded them to Blaine.
While Joe was playing tech support on the phones, the rest of the men were cleaning up. Ray had the last of the 8-ball they cracked open and grabbed one more for the road, leaving 2 behind. Steve and Sam cleaned themselves up and got dressed, then shut down the cameras and packed them up. Ray then followed suit.
The three of them had a bowl while they waited for Joe to get ready. He dressed as calmly and coolly as he could, considering that he probably committed no less than 48 felonies tonight and that they weren’t out of the woods yet. There was still the matter of tidying things up and making sure the girls didn’t scream bloody murder the moment they left.
“You guys, take a break and load up the ride. You, gimme your tape.” Steve and Sam put Carmella, Blaine’s personalized bowl, down and grabbed their bags, carrying them to the back door. Ray handed Joe his clear packing tape.
Joe looked around for something to gag them with, then found it. Their panties. He took Teagan’s panties, balled them up, wiped some of the dried cum off of Aly’s eyes, then shoved them in Aly’s mouth. He did the same with Teagan, taking Aly’s panties, wiping her eyes as best he could, then putting them in Teagan’s mouth. He then took the tape and wrapped it around both of the girl’s heads, one at a time.
They looked sad, pathetic, scared, and broken. Joe was getting turned on again, but he didn’t have time for another round. He snapped his fingers to make sure that he had theirs and Blaine’s attention.
“So, here’s the deal. We’re gonna leave soon. When we do, you’re gonna sit here and count to 100, slowly, before you try to escape or break free. We’re hiding your phones in the house, so no calling anyone for help to get you out. You’re resourceful people, you’ll figure this out. Now, this tape around your heads, it hurts like a bitch if you try to pull it off, but getting it wet with soap and water will make it real easy to work with. Of course, it’ll also wash away everything we left on you.”
Steve and Sam returned to the room. Joe tossed the tape over to Ray, who put it back in his bag and put it with the rest by the door.
“Don’t go calling the cops, ‘cause they won’t like how much cocaine you’ve got over there. There’s enough over there to put all of you away in prison for 5 years. We’d only get 3 for raping you. Isn’t that fucked up, that you’d spend more time in jail than we would? Don’t believe me, you can look it up tomorrow.”
“So remember, two weeks from now, Blaine pays us all he owes, or the video of tonight’s little party gets shared to everyone you know. By the way, did you know facial recognition works when covered in cum? Wanna see your new desktop?” Joe held the phone in front of Teagan, and it unlocked to show her face covered in the cum of 5 different men.
Teagan was trying her best to keep it together, but there was no stopping the tears at this point. She broke down right then and there. It might be hard to explain but her body being violated was one thing, but her phone? That’s just completely fucked up.
Joe locked her phone and handed hers, Aly’s, and Blaine’s to Steve. “Hide them.” Steve walked left the theater and walked up the stairway, then back downstairs. He went to the bathroom where he put the phones under the sink, like previously agreed to. He then took a piss. Ray, then Sam followed suit. Joe was last to go. The scene in the theater was not what he expected to see.
Sam was standing guard over the three captives. He had pulled out his gun, removed the mag, and slid three rounds out of it. He took each round, wiped it down with his shirt to remove any fingerprints, then placed one in front of each person. Everyone, even Blaine, freaked the fuck out when they saw him place a bullet next to them.
“I want you to keep these as a souvenir. Keep them to remember how horrible tonight was, and how much worse it could have been, and could still be. We know where you live, an if we feel any heat come on us, having the world see you three fucking on the web will be the least of your worries, is that clear?” Teagan and Aly nodded as best they could, and Blaine played along one last time and nodded. “Good.”
Ray and Steve had taken this time to pack up the truck. Sam and Joe gave one more look around the room to make sure they didn’t forget anything. Steve came back in and gave a thumbs up sign.
“So, we’re gonna leave soon. It’s a little after one in the morning, and most of your neighbors are asleep by now. Remember what I said about the tape, soap and hot water works real good on that. You can start counting to a hundred when that back-door closes.” Joe got close one more time to the girls and talked softly. “Don’t start until we leave. Got it?”
They nodded.
“Good. Now, remember. Blaine, you fucking deadbeat piece of gator bait, if you don’t get me my money in two weeks, everyone in the world will see you fucking your sister and her best friend. That’s 2 grand in 2 weeks.”
“22.” Sam said, catching Joe off guard. He turned to his friend for an explanation. Sam had a billfold out and pulled out two one-hundred-dollar bills.
“Twenty-two hundred.” Sam threw the two bills on the floor by the girls. “You owe us twenty-two hundred dollars now. Go get these bitches some Plan B in the morning. The world doesn’t need any more half breeds running around.” Everyone in the room was taken aback by that comment, even Joe. Sam walked out of the theater, trying to act like the biggest badass possible. For the crowd involved, it worked.
Joe turned to the captives one more time. “Two weeks, two thousand two hundred dollars, or we’ll tell the story of tonight. Don’t count until that door closes.”
Joe left the theater and headed to the basement door with Sam in tow. Before opening the door, Joe took several deep breaths to calm himself.
“Buddy, keep me calm during the drive. Make sure I don’t speed or do anything stupid. We’ve got a good drive ahead of us, don’t want to do something to get pulled over.” Joe asked, letting his tough guy character slip.
“Got it.” Sam patted Joe on the shoulder and they were out the door, closing it behind them. A moment later, they were in the truck. Ray and Steve were in the back seats, along with the bags. Sam climbed in the passenger seat while Joe sat in the driver’s seat. He started the truck.
“Right, Right on Hummingbird, Right on Cardinal. Once by the hospital, we can turn GPS back on and plot a course back to Sam’s place. Anything I need to know before I pull out?”
“Who pulled out?” Steve asked, getting a chuckle from the crew.
“You know how you said you wanted to know if I had any coke on me. Well, I’ve got some coke on me.” Joe turned around to look at Ray.
“How much?”
“I grabbed one of them. Left the other two behind. I’d take them all, but they were part of the deal.” Ray responded defensively. Joe turned back to the front and put the truck in drive. He drove slowly up the driveway and turned right. Joe muttered the directions to himself and drove below the speed limit.
“Once we turn off this street, masks off, undo the black jackets, try to get casual, not look like we just committed a ton of felonies.” Joe said from the front street.
“Got it.” Steve answered from the back.
Joe turned right on Hummingbird. Steve, Ray, and Sam all peeled off their masks. Joe waited until the next stop sign to remove his mask.
“Glad to finally get that fucking thing off.”
Sam held both his and Joe’s phone. He felt one of them vibrate. He checked his, nothing. He looked at Joe’s. There was a text from some unknown number. Joe noticed his watch buzz but wouldn’t dare remove his hand from the wheel.
“What’s it say?” Joe asked Sam, who was holding the phone.
“From some unknown number. ‘Avoid 219. DUI checkpoint mile south of hospital by beltway ramp, take alt route.’ Shit. There goes the easy way.”
“Fuck.” Joe tensed up a bit, trying to think of what to do.
“Gimme the guns and ammo, I’ll hide them in a bag. Ray, hide your stash in your stuff.” Steve told the crew, and they handed over their pistols and clips. Ray put his coke in his bag, and slid it under his seat.
“Three options.” Joe said, as he made a right hand turn onto Cardinal Drive. “We get out of this plan and drive through another housing plan, hoping we don’t get stuck in cul-de-sac Hell. We stop somewhere like the hospital or bar, and wait for this to blow over. Or we take our chances with the checkpoint. Turning GPS on this far away might look suspicious if we get caught, and going back the way we came will take us right into Johnny Law. Suggestions?”
“Keep going north and stop at a local bar. We have enough time before last call to have one drink. Plus, I don’t know the names of anything around here to bullshit my way through a checkpoint.” Ray said from the backseat.
“Agreed. If we go straight south we might get some questions we don’t want to answer. Besides, no one knows what we did, what we look like, or what our truck looks like. The only witnesses are still tied up. We’ve just got to play it cool.” Joe explained that this was a good idea as he turned right on 219 leaving the housing plan.
Right, heading North. They’ll go to the bar, have a pint, and wait for this all to blow over.
At least, that was the plan until they saw a sign a minute later that said “219 South” and another one 10 seconds later that said “DUI Checkpoint Ahead.”
“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Joe screamed at no one in particular. “FUCK, FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!” Joe looked for any side streets or driveways to turn down, but no luck. “Shit.”
“Who’s got a birthday soon? Anyone live around here?” Sam asked, looking for a thread to pull on.
“My son turned 25 last week. He had an apartment in Grosse Pointe a while back.” Ray said.
“Birthday works, but Grosse Pointe is a little far from here. Come up with a place nearby, guys.” Sam said, turning on the GPS on Joe’s phone. “219 runs through Sharpstown, right?”
“In like 20 miles through the woods, why?” Joe looked tense as he approached the lineup of cars stopped ahead of the checkpoint. Sam punched in an address in Sharpstown on the phone, and a route came up, showing to go straight.
“I have a place up there. Condo I rent out, but I live there. Ray, what’s your son’s name?”
“Derrick. We went to a birthday party for Derrick, he lives in Haden Falls. It’s on 219, right before Westchester Heights. You’re driving up to Sharpstown, I have a condo up there. It’s a rental between renters but has a hot tub and pool on the grounds.” Sam put Joe’s phone in his dash holder.
“Wipe your noses guys, especially you Ray.” The guys each did a quick wipe of their noses before moving up in line.
Joe was tense, but knew that any crazy moves here would make everything much, much worse. If he tried to run, the cops would peel out and catch him, like they were doing to someone behind him who tried to avoid the checkpoint at the last second. He’s been through checkpoints before, but never after spending several hours raping two hotties, smoking weed, drinking, and doing coke. He just needs to keep cool and not do anything stupid.
“Joe, Joe.”
“WHAT?” Joe snapped back at Sam.
“License, registration, insurance card. Where are they?”
“License is in my wallet. Registration in the glove box, insurance is on my phone.”
“Where’s your wallet?” Sam asked his friend, who was clearly more than a little nervous.
Joe freaked out. Where was his wallet. He hadn’t seen it in hours. He hadn’t needed it in hours. Oh shit, is it in his bag?
“Console. It’s in the console.” Joe opened the console and pulled out his wallet with his ID. He handed it to Sam.
“Here.” Sam handed over Joe’s license and his registration from the glove box. Joe held onto it with his left hand. Sam grabbed Joe’s phone and navigated to the insurance app, then handed it to him. Joe took a deep breath then logged in. In a moment, he had his insurance card on his screen.
The car pulled up one more spot. The car in front of them was directed to pull off to the right while a police officer in a blue uniform waved Joe forward.
Joe pulled forward. When the cop directed him to stop, he put the car in park.
“Remember, be polite, be courteous.” Sam said to Joe.
“But have a plan to kill every man in the room.” Steve blurted out. Sam turned back towards him with a death glare.
A tall black man in a police uniform stepped up to Joe’s window. Joe rolled it down, holding his license and registration in his left hand. The police officer did a quick scan of the car with his flashlight. Each of them winced a little as the bright light hit them in the eyes.
“Good evening, gentlemen. License, registration, proof of insurance.”
“Evening sir.” Joe handed the cop the license and vehicle registration. “My insurance card is on my phone.” Joe grabbed the phone and showed him the screen.
The police officer looked at the ID. The picture matched, it wasn’t expired, didn’t look fake. The registration looked in place, new large pickup truck, the names matched. The insurance card looked in place. He took another look at the passengers. 4 white guys. 3 in their 40’s, 1 a little older.
“Where you headed to?” The officer asked Joe.
“Sharpstown. Buddy has a place up there.” Joe motioned to Sam in the passenger seat. The cop leaned in to get a better look at who was there. When he got close, he picked up a subtle smell of marijuana. He leaned in a little closer and sniffed again. Faint, but detectable.
“Where you coming from?” The cop asked, paying close attention to how Joe talked.
“Haden Falls. Coming back from a birthday party for my friend’s son.” Joe pointed behind him to Ray.
The officer didn’t notice any slurring or speech issues. But he could still smell weed.
“That’s a bit of a drive at this time of night.” Joe seemed completely responsive, showing no outward signs of inebriation.
“I’ve got a hot tub.” The passenger spoke up. The cop looked at him for a brief moment. No laws against being a drunk passenger.
“He has a hot tub.” Joe said to the cop.
“Were you guys drinking tonight.” The cop watched Joe. If he lied, he’d catch him.
“A little. I had a couple beers over the last few hours.”
“And them?” The cop asked, pointing the flashlight to the friends in the truck.
“I gotta hot tub.” Sam said once again. Joe rolled his eyes.
“A little bit more.”
The cop leaned in and sniffed again.
“Anything else tonight? There’s a little something in the air tonight, and it’s not Phil Collins.”
Joe took a deep breath before answering, calming himself down.
“I, uh, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but someone at the party had a little weed.” Joe looked nervous, which wasn’t too far from the truth. It’s easier to lie when the lie contains a kernel of the truth.
“How long ago was this, and how much?” The officer asked.
“About 11, and a couple hits as a bowl was passed around.” Joe felt being semi-honest might be the best policy here. He looked like he wanted to say more.
“Okay.” The cop stopped him. “Listen, I don’t have a problem if you had a little. I care if you had a lot. I care if you had so much that you’re a danger on the road. I’m going to ask you a few questions... Joe is it?” The cop held the license up.
“Yep.”
“Good. What’s your birthday?”
“12-3-77.”
“Good. Count backwards from 100 to 1 by 7.”
“Starting at 100?” Asked Joe.
“Yes, starting at 100.” Replied the officer.
“Okay. 100, 93, 86, 79, 72, 65.”
“That’s good.” The cop cut him off. “Try saying the alphabet from H to R”
“From H to R. H I J K L M N O P Q R.”
“Good. Can you touch your nose with your index fingers?”
Joe quickly touched his nose with his right, then his left, then both index fingers.
“Excellent. One last question. Why Sharpstown?”
“I’m going to get in trouble with my wife either way. I can either get yelled at for coming home at 2AM smelling like weed and get bitched at until the sun rises, or I can go to my buddy’s place, spend time in the hot tub, go to sleep, shower, put on fresh clothes, and get yelled at less for being somewhat responsible. At least this way there’s a hot tub involved.” Joe explained, without skipping a beat.
“I’ve got a hot tub.” Joe cringed as Sam said that line again.
The cop handed Joe his license and registration.
“Okay, here you go. Stay safe, and enjoy the hot tub. Move along.” The police officer stepped back and waved them forward. Anyone standing next to him could faintly hear “fucking white people.”
Back in the truck, Joe kept everything calm until they were past the checkpoint and out of range of the police. Once he was sure they were clear, he screamed.
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?”
“I GOT A HOT TUB. What the fuck was that, Sam. Did you go full retard there?” Steve asked. Sam laughed.
“I went full drunk retard. Everyone being sober this late is suspicious. Having one drunk in the car, then the driver looks more sober in comparison.”
“When has that ever worked?”
“Like 2 fucking minutes ago, Joe.” Sam grabbed Joe’s phone and punched in his address in West Oakville. “Let’s go back to my place, hopefully we don’t have any more crazy shit happen.”
“You mean we’re not going to Sharpstown? But I thought you had a hot tub?” Ray asked, teasing Sam.
“HE HAS A HOT TUB.” Steve added.
“I GOT A HOT TUB.” Sam replied.
“WILL YOU FUCKING RETARDS STOP IT!?” Joe yelled, trying to pay attention to the GPS.
“HE GOT A HOT TUB.” Ray added.
“I GOT A HOT TUB.”
“I DON’T WANT TO LISTEN TO THIS SHIT THE WHOLE WAY TO WEST OAKVILLE!”
“I GOT A HOT TUB.”
“AAAAAH!”
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’77, 78, 79, 80.’ Blaine counted to himself. No use trying to count out loud. His mouth was once again gagged and the girls were too busy crying to hear him. They were tough, much tougher than him, but as soon as those men left and they heard their vehicle start up and leave, they lost it. Aly started crying, then Teagan joined in, and those two have been crying on and with each other for the last couple minutes. Individually, they were each a mess, but combined they were a total wreck. They had been violated in almost every way possible, but did their damndest to not completely crack. Sure, they broke down several times, but each time they pulled themselves together. Hell, they even gave in and enjoyed themselves a bit here and there.
But that was over. Now, they sat tied to each other on the floor of the theater room, bound, gagged, mouths taped, and covered in cum. A lot of cum.
The girls were in both a better and worse position to help. Their bonds were just a simple zip tie around their wrists, and they were bound to each other in a hug. They were free to move their legs, and with a little teamwork they could easily stand up and make their way to the kitchen or garage. But they were so distraught that even several minutes after the rapists left, they haven’t stopped crying.
’96, 97, 98, 99, 100.’ Alright, time to break free. But, how?
Blaine was in an awkward position. Here he was, zip tied at the wrists and legs, sitting on a couch. His wrists were bound with one zip tie, while his feet were bound with three. One surrounded each foot, and another connected those two together. Those were connected to his wrists with one more tie. If he could get either of the ones now near his wrists, he’d be set. He could either stretch the other ones enough to break or he could stand up and shimmy around the house to get something sharp. As it was, he was stuck in this position on the couch.
Shit, the couch made it worse. If he were on the floor, he could move around as much as he wanted and not worry about falling. He’d have to slide onto the floor so he could get around anyway, so at least there was a start.
Blaine rolled toward the end of the couch, closer to where he was sitting the whole night. It was safer to slide and fall here than in the middle or the left seat of the couch. The girls were tied up by the left seat, and he didn’t want to risk breaking the TV. God, that would be even harder to explain.
Once he was at the edge, Blaine tried to kick and snap the zip ties, but all he managed to do was hurt his wrists and ankles. ‘Fuck, down I go.’ He rolled and leaned and squirmed into a position where his feet and ass were just above the floor. He dropped a few more inches and THUD! Blaine landed on the floor with the grace of a piano. He laid on his back for a moment, taking account of his surroundings.
From here he could see no sharp objects to cut the ties. No knives, blades, keys or anything over here on this side of the room. Everything over here was either dull or soft. All he found down here was a roach clip that got knocked over.
‘That’s it!’ They smoked a lot of fucking weed earlier, and what does a person need to smoke weed? Fire. Where’s that come from? A lighter. What does a lighter do? Melts the shit out of plastic, especially a nice lighter like Blaine’s Zippo.
He rocked himself into an upright position and scanned the room. He found his lighter next to his bowl on the glass table now pushed in the corner. All he’d have to do was shimmy on his ass across the room, grab the lighter, and use that to melt the plastic. Normally, this should take him a few seconds to get across the room.
Five minutes later, Blaine was just making it to girls, and he was already exhausted. This was a long night, but shimmying on one’s ass and heels across a carpeted floor on a concrete basement slab can wear a mother fucker out. When he got to the girls, what he saw broke his heart again.
Teagan and Aly were still crying, but it had died down from uncontrollable sobbing to cries of resignation, like they thought they were trapped here. At this point they were in a cycle of consoling each other. One would get a little worse, the other would comfort them. They kept this loop up the whole time he slid around the room. What he noticed that crushed him was how they both didn’t break down completely at the same time. It’s weird to describe, but no matter how shitty one of them felt, they would suck it up to help the other. They didn’t both hit rock bottom at the same time.
And he was the reason. He’s the reason they were in so much pain. He’s the reason that two women who loved him were blubbering messes. ‘Fuck, if I caused this, who else did I crush like this?’
Blaine always separated himself from the rape. To him, it was always about physical and mental dominance. He never sat around after to see how it worked out. All of his early gifts and offerings to The Club were exes he was done with or some girls he barely knew. It was never his sister or Teagan. Never before, anyway.
Seeing the pain he caused them, and knowing it was his fault broke something inside of Blaine. He was sad, he was hurt, he was filled with guilt and remorse, and he wanted to cry, but nothing came out. Why couldn’t he cry? Fuck, when was the last time he cried? Not from breaking a bone, but from emotional pain. He cried when he broke his foot in his car wreck, and he cried when he totaled his Evo, but he hasn’t cried for another person since before his parents split.
He tried to cry, but no tears came. His chest shuddered, he wailed behind his gag, his eyes turned red, but no tears.
‘Alright you fucking pussy, get in gear. These girls need you. Step 1, get the lighter and break these bonds. Step 2, check to make sure the phones are secure where they should be. Step 3, get something sharp to cut them free. Step 4, be there for them. Step 5, never tell a soul what you did or what happened. This shit stays here, and your role in it dies with you.’
Blaine’s inner voice rocked him into motion. He had no problem finishing his journey to the table. Once there, he saw his Zippo lighter, Carmella, some empty plates, a lot of weed, and some cocaine. While he could try to use his personal bowl Carmella to break the zip ties, these were thick enough that they could break his bowl. His best bet was the lighter.
Blaine leaned over and slid the lighter across the glass table towards him, letting it fall into his hands. He then slid back away from the table. No reason he should be close to anything when playing with fire. He placed the lighter on the ground and gently opened it. Blaine struck the striker wheel once. Spark, but no flame. A second time. Again, sparks but no flame. On the third attempt, the lighter lit an orange-yellow flame.
He held his ankle and wrist bonds over the flame, pulling his feet apart and his wrists up while doing so. Plastic weakens faster with heat and tensile pressure than just heat alone. 30 seconds, his legs were getting weak and this was an awkward position to stay in. At 45 seconds, he could feel the heat from the flame warm up his skin even at this distance, but he saw the center band start to weaken. Just a little bit more...
A little after a minute passed before he felt his wrists freed from the ankle support. A second later, his feet snapped free. Blaine fell back on his ass, almost knocking over the lighter. He grabbed it as best as he could with his hands that were still bound, and closed the lighter, snuffing out the flame. He put the hot lighter back up on the table to cool off. Now that he was free to walk, getting out of these bonds should be easy. Well, as easy as anything else tonight.
Blaine stood up, and when he did he noticed the girls stopped crying for a moment. They looked at him with a sense of hope and fear. Hope that this might be over, but fear that he’s moving too fast. They didn’t notice that it was almost a half hour since the men left. They cried for so long that they lost track of time. He wanted to hug them right then and there, but there was a job to do. He tried to see if he could grab the tape around his mouth, but he had no luck with his wrists still bound. He held up a finger and yelled “One Minute!” as best as he could through the gag. He turned and left the theater room, Aly and Teagan wailing behind him.
‘Looks like they didn’t get the message.’
Blaine quickly made his way to the basement kitchen and grabbed a pair of scissors from the junk drawer. After a moment of balancing and effort, he cut the zip tie around his wrists. Another couple snips and he had the ties off of his ankles and he quickly cut the tape from his face.
“FUCK. Fuck.” He rubbed his wrists, noticing the skin was deeply bruised. Those fuckers. He wanted a word with them one day.
Hearing the girls cry brought him out of thoughts of revenge or petty retribution and back to the present.
‘Step 1 complete. Step 2, phones.’ Blaine stepped into the bathroom off of the kitchen and looked under the cabinet. 3 smartphones sat stacked safely under the sink.
‘Step 2 complete. Step 3, free the girls. Lock the door first, dipshit.’ His inner monologue hated him tonight, and rightly so. Blaine checked to make sure that the door the men left from was locked, but also turned the deadbolt, too. He walked as quick as he could back to the theater. Once there, he made a bee line for the girls, first cutting Teagan’s wrists then Aly’s. They hugged each other for a long moment as Blaine tried to get their attention. Seeing the scissors set Aly off into a panic, so he turned to Teagan.
“I need to cut the tape so you can talk, hold really, really still.” Blaine carefully snipped a piece of the tape away from Teagan’s cheek and slid the tip of the scissors underneath. He snipped a little bit, then pulled more up and cut again. He did this until the tape was completely cut. He pulled it back a little, but stopped when he saw how much it was sticking to her skin. Teagan grabbed the piece with her free hand ripped it off, then spit out the panties she had stuffed in her mouth. She threw her arms around his shoulders and collapsed onto him, crying tears of relief. He kissed her on the head and hugged her back.
“Hey, still got to get Aly. Help me keep her calm.” Teagan sniffled then saw that he was trying to remove her gag and tape as well. Aly didn’t like sharp things near her face, so she wasn’t having much of it. Teagan shushed her and pet her hair while Blaine cut off the gag. Just like Teagan, she ripped it off, ignoring the pain, and spit out Teagan’s underwear from her mouth. Both girls hung on to Blaine for dear life.