Home alone (MMM/FF)

[tiedgirlie]

The door burst open with a crack that split the evening silence. Three men in dark clothes flooded into the Marseille apartment, moving with practiced efficiency. Marine, seventeen, barely had time to scream before a gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shut it," the tallest one growled in guttural French. His breath reeked of cigarettes and garlic.

Fifteen-year-old Céline bolted from the kitchen, her eyes wide with terror. The second man—stocky, with a spider tattoo crawling up his neck—caught her by her blonde ponytail and yanked her back. She yelped, tears already streaming down her flushed cheeks.

"Both of you. Living room. Now." The third man, thin as a rail with dead eyes, gestured with a crowbar.

Marine's legs trembled as they shoved her and Céline toward two wooden dining chairs in the center of the room. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard she thought it might crack through.

"Back to back," Spider Tattoo ordered, his accent thick with the rough edges of the Quartiers Nord.

The sisters pressed their spines together, Marine feeling Céline's terrified breathing through their thin summer clothes. The taller man produced a coil of white nylon rope from his bag, the kind used for sailing. He started with Marine's wrists, crossing them behind the chair back where they met Céline's. The rope bit into her skin as he wound it round and round, each loop tighter than the last. She could feel the coarse fibers digging into her flesh, the circulation already starting to ebb.

"Please—" Marine began.

"Shut your fucking mouth," he snapped, giving the rope a vicious yank that made both girls gasp. He tied off the knot with brutal efficiency, then moved to their ankles. Marine's bare feet were pressed against the chair legs as he wrapped the rope around and around, binding each ankle separately to the wooden posts. The pressure was immediate and unforgiving. She tried to flex her toes but couldn't.

Spider Tattoo worked on Céline with the same cold precision. The younger girl was sobbing now, her whole body shaking. He secured her wrists to Marine's, then her ankles to her chair legs, pulling everything so tight that the wood creaked.

"Additional security," the thin one said, producing more rope. He wrapped it around both girls' waists, circling the chair backs, pinning them even more firmly together. Then around their chests, just below their breasts, and again above. The rope pressed into Marine's ribs with every breath. She felt utterly immobilized, every muscle straining against the bonds but achieving nothing.

"Now for the mouths," the tall one said with a nasty grin. He pulled out two red bandanas from his pocket. "Can't have the neighbors hearing you scream, can we?"

He wadded the first bandana into a tight ball and shoved it into Marine's mouth. She gagged immediately, the fabric pushing her tongue down, filling her oral cavity completely. Before she could even process it, he wrapped a second bandana around her head, tying it brutally tight at the back of her skull. The knot dug into her hair. She could taste the musty cotton, feel drool already pooling around the gag.

Céline's muffled whimpers turned into desperate "Mmmphs!" as Spider Tattoo gagged her the same way. Two bandanas—one stuffed in, one tied over. The younger girl's face turned red as she struggled to breathe through her nose, snot and tears mixing on her cheeks.

"And we can't have you seeing what we take," the thin one added, producing black cloth strips. He wrapped one around Marine's eyes, knotting it so tight that stars exploded in her vision before everything went dark. The pressure on her temples was immediate and throbbing.

Céline got the same treatment. Now both sisters sat in complete darkness, bound, gagged, helpless.

"Alright, let's see what these bourgeois bitches have," the tall one announced.

For the next three hours, Marine listened to the sounds of her home being destroyed. Drawers yanked open and dumped. Glass shattering. Furniture overturned. The men laughed and joked in crude French, making comments about the girls' underwear when they ransacked the bedrooms, speculating about their bodies, their virginity.

"Look at this lacy shit," Spider Tattoo called out. "Little Marine likes to feel sexy, huh?"

"Bet she's got a boyfriend who fucks her in these," another voice added, followed by raucous laughter.

Marine felt bile rise in her throat but the gag trapped it. She could only swallow it back down, the acidic taste mixing with cotton and fear. Beside her, Céline was crying continuously now, her back heaving against Marine's with each sob.

"Found the jewelry box!"

"Laptop here!"

"Cash in the desk!"

Time became meaningless in the darkness. Marine's wrists screamed with pain, her fingers numb. Her jaw ached from being forced open. Sweat dripped down her face beneath the blindfold.

Finally, footsteps approached.

"Time to put you somewhere more... secure," the tall one said. Hands gripped Marine's shoulders. They cut the ropes binding the chairs together but left everything else intact. Marine's arms were still bound behind her, ankles still tied, gag and blindfold still in place. They hauled her up—she couldn't walk, couldn't see—and dragged her across the apartment. She heard Céline being dragged too, her muffled cries of terror echoing.

A door opened. The hallway closet.

They shoved Marine inside first. She stumbled, fell to her knees on the hard floor. Before she could orient herself, they were wrapping more rope around her. They bent her legs up behind her, tying her ankles to her wrist bindings in a strict hogtie. She was arched backwards now, the position immediately agonizing. Every muscle strained.

Céline landed beside her with a muffled scream. They hogtied her too, the ropes creaking as they pulled everything taut.

"Enjoy your evening, princesses," Spider Tattoo said with a laugh.

The closet door slammed shut. A lock clicked.

Darkness. Silence except for their desperate breathing through their noses and muffled whimpers. Marine could feel Céline beside her, both of them bound like animals, helpless, waiting for their parents to come home and find them.

The apartment door slammed. The criminals were gone.

But the sisters remained, tied, gagged, blindfolded, locked away in suffocating darkness.

[Dpsiic]

Well written story. It captures the reality and fear of a home invasion.