Don't mess with the mob! (MMMMM/MF)
Posted: Sun Jul 22, 2018 1:03 pm
It was a dark humid night, one characteristic of southern Ohio summers. An old beat-up pickup raced down the gravel road off in the horizon. Try as he might, Monnie, could not catch the attention of the driver.
Straining at the ropes with futility and grunting furiously into the cloth tied in and around his mouth, Monnie was essentially wasting his energy, and he knew it. With a start of realization, he relaxed against the tree he'd been tied to. Even if he did get out of this somehow, he was going to have a killer sunburn. The bastards had stripped him down to his gray cotton briefs.
The noise of the girl mumbling in frustration turned his thoughts to her. At least she'd been spared the indignity of being stripped.
-Two hours earlier-
"You're a real wise guy talking to my girl behind my back like that Monnie." The leader of the "crew" was a short fiery man with a personality to match, he thought himself a modern-day napoleon. When Monnie began to improvise a poem about it all to him and his grunts to sniggers of laughter things... well things went south.
The men had done a stellar job harnessing him up. Even the bindee had to hand to it them, admiring their' attention to detail. He wasn't going to get loose of this. "Those are the last lyrics you'll ever sing!" The man, clearly enraged at being humiliated in front of his compadres, pulled out a dishcloth and stuffed it tightly into the "poet's" mouth. "You're going die out here in your skivvies. Mostly for this big mouth. But also because I just don't like you. This will bring me peace!" The sock had been pulled off his own foot a minute ago and now was being employed as a gag, holding the rag in as it wound around his mouth. Not finished with his job, the self-described mob man ripped up a sheet. Folding it artfully before draping it over the captive's face, the small man gave one last glare into the man's
eyes. After knotting the sheet off behind Monnie's head, the crew began to prepare to leave.
Monnie, now stripped to his underwear and tied to a tree, began to hear a creaking sound as the noise of the men died off. He looked up, just in time to see a young woman looking down at him from the upper branches of the tree.
Then it happened.
The branch that she was on broke. The short haired brunette with green eyes was falling. Falling right in front of him. The men at the cars began to run back to the tree shouting. The girl had apparently been knocked out by the fall. She was just lying there when the men arrived. As one of them prepared to turn her over onto her back, she kicked him in the throat, knocking the brute onto his back, like a turtle on it's shell- defeated. The other two came too quickly though, and the young woman wearing tight jeans and an iron maiden tshirt was quickly restrained, arms behind her back.
"What exactly are you perverts doing up here?" The girl screamed as they began to bind her to the other side of the tree. The men looked away and did not answer.
"Revenge. It is revenge, miss?" The leader had taken a not ungentle tone with her.
The girl struggled against the knots as she said, "Miss screw you."
The short man laughed long and hard before approaching the woman with a balled up cloth in his fist. "Unfortunately, you will never get to experience that pleasure, or anything for that matter." The insertion of the wadding cut off whatever the woman was about to say. The other sock pulled earlier off of Monnie was wound around her mouth and knotted, and another sherd of sheet wrapped around that. The furious protests of the gagged woman seemed to amuse the little man to no end.
"We have to go sir. They are waiting for us." The henchman seemed to place emphasis on the word "they."
It seemed to Monnie that a shiver went through the small man just then. "Yes, that's true we must be leaving." In clipped tones the man ordered them back to the cars.
Monnie began to consider the situation. Hopefully she has a plan.
Straining at the ropes with futility and grunting furiously into the cloth tied in and around his mouth, Monnie was essentially wasting his energy, and he knew it. With a start of realization, he relaxed against the tree he'd been tied to. Even if he did get out of this somehow, he was going to have a killer sunburn. The bastards had stripped him down to his gray cotton briefs.
The noise of the girl mumbling in frustration turned his thoughts to her. At least she'd been spared the indignity of being stripped.
-Two hours earlier-
"You're a real wise guy talking to my girl behind my back like that Monnie." The leader of the "crew" was a short fiery man with a personality to match, he thought himself a modern-day napoleon. When Monnie began to improvise a poem about it all to him and his grunts to sniggers of laughter things... well things went south.
The men had done a stellar job harnessing him up. Even the bindee had to hand to it them, admiring their' attention to detail. He wasn't going to get loose of this. "Those are the last lyrics you'll ever sing!" The man, clearly enraged at being humiliated in front of his compadres, pulled out a dishcloth and stuffed it tightly into the "poet's" mouth. "You're going die out here in your skivvies. Mostly for this big mouth. But also because I just don't like you. This will bring me peace!" The sock had been pulled off his own foot a minute ago and now was being employed as a gag, holding the rag in as it wound around his mouth. Not finished with his job, the self-described mob man ripped up a sheet. Folding it artfully before draping it over the captive's face, the small man gave one last glare into the man's
eyes. After knotting the sheet off behind Monnie's head, the crew began to prepare to leave.
Monnie, now stripped to his underwear and tied to a tree, began to hear a creaking sound as the noise of the men died off. He looked up, just in time to see a young woman looking down at him from the upper branches of the tree.
Then it happened.
The branch that she was on broke. The short haired brunette with green eyes was falling. Falling right in front of him. The men at the cars began to run back to the tree shouting. The girl had apparently been knocked out by the fall. She was just lying there when the men arrived. As one of them prepared to turn her over onto her back, she kicked him in the throat, knocking the brute onto his back, like a turtle on it's shell- defeated. The other two came too quickly though, and the young woman wearing tight jeans and an iron maiden tshirt was quickly restrained, arms behind her back.
"What exactly are you perverts doing up here?" The girl screamed as they began to bind her to the other side of the tree. The men looked away and did not answer.
"Revenge. It is revenge, miss?" The leader had taken a not ungentle tone with her.
The girl struggled against the knots as she said, "Miss screw you."
The short man laughed long and hard before approaching the woman with a balled up cloth in his fist. "Unfortunately, you will never get to experience that pleasure, or anything for that matter." The insertion of the wadding cut off whatever the woman was about to say. The other sock pulled earlier off of Monnie was wound around her mouth and knotted, and another sherd of sheet wrapped around that. The furious protests of the gagged woman seemed to amuse the little man to no end.
"We have to go sir. They are waiting for us." The henchman seemed to place emphasis on the word "they."
It seemed to Monnie that a shiver went through the small man just then. "Yes, that's true we must be leaving." In clipped tones the man ordered them back to the cars.
Monnie began to consider the situation. Hopefully she has a plan.