Chapter 24: Jacked

Susan Freemont was a 38-year-old mother of two girls. Married for twenty years now, they had two daughters, Melissa, 18, and Meagan, 12. Her husband Michael was a successful lawyer, and getting promoted meant a big pay raise. It also meant more traveling on the company jet. Susan didn’t mind. She had plenty of ways to spend her money.

On this Tuesday she dropped Meagan off at school, then she took Melissa to the Galleria for a day of fun. Melissa had only just turned eighteen last week. They went to Chic’ Ola where Melissa got a small miniskirt and a blouse that left little to the imagination. And there was a lot to imagine. Melissa was about 5’7” tall, weighed maybe 110 pounds. She had very nice breasts, a definite c-cup pair. Her hips were just right; her butt could really wiggle when she walked. She was a sexual knock out in this outfit and so she decided to wear it home for fun. Her mom also got some suggestive clothing and wore it home too. Not unexpected, considering the joint they’d smoked in the car before coming inside.

Juan and Julio Torrence were with their gang brothers Marca Silva and Ricardo Hernandez, part of the 38th Street Gang. They drove into the Galleria parking garage. They drove a stolen white Chrysler minivan, looking for an S-class Mercedes to steal. Normally, 38th Gang never ventured outside their territory much, except when they needed a luxury car to jack. A van full of gang members in this neighborhood could bring a whole lotta cops asking questions, too. So, they went into the garage at the Galleria. No passing cops could see them in there. They spotted a white S-Class Mercedes Benz, a new one too. They parked near by, keeping a very low profile. The plan was to jack the driver for the keys so they don’t damage the car starting it. They’d done this before- pull up quick and jump out. Hit the driver on the head with the pipe and grab his keys. Then in seconds you’re gone.

Soon, as the four men lay low in their seats, two women came down the ramp from the elevators. Juan whistled. “Look at these two, bro.” Julio sat up a little, peering over the dash. “Santa meirda,” he said. A blond woman with a hot figure walked down the ramp, the slope making her hips really sway. Big boobs, lots of cleavage visible. Beside her was a youngster, like her daughter. Blonde too, slim, also a nice bod. She really looked good when she walked. She had on a very short miniskirt. They watched discreetly as they walked by, and wouldn’t you know it; they went right to the white Mercedes. Julio, always the impulsive one, said to the others, “Let’s grab ‘em both!” as Juan started the van.

Melissa and her mom walked up to the car. As she opened the door, a minivan pulled up behind them. She paused, wondering what was ... three men jumped out. One ran right towards her. She cringed back, eyes wide. He lifted some object and hit her with it. She had blocked it partially with her hand, but the second hit was squared on the back of her head. She went down, unconscious. Susan meanwhile let out a cry as the first man hit her with his pipe. She held up her arm and it felt like he’d broken it! He hit her two more times, in the head. She too went to the ground. No quite unconscious, but almost.

Ricardo grabbed her keys and jumped in the car; started it. Julio grabbed up the woman, dragged her towards the van. Marca watched, no sure if Julio had been serious before. He grabbed up the girl and dragged her to the van too. In the back, they closed the door. Juan drove off, heading for their own turf. Ricardo followed in the Benz.

Back in their own hood, they drove slowly down the streets. Julio and Marca taped up the two women. During the trip the mother had suddenly come around, but couldn’t do anything but struggle against the duct tape. The daughter was slowly waking up from the groans she was making. It was dark, the only look they’d had was when they walked down the garage. Ricardo dropped the car at an auto body shop, then got in the minivan. They drove to their crib.

They parked, pulled the two out and dragged them inside. In the dark, nobody around here cared or dared to notice what these gangsters were doing. Inside, they took both women to a back room, a living room of some sort. Two other gangsters were there. They made the two stands next to each other in their fancy clothes in the middle of the room. The six men talked mostly in Spanish about what to do with the two as they teetered on their high heels.

Ricardo wanted to make a movie. “I don’t need no fancy studio. Right here. There are hundreds of bars down in Mexico that will pay good money for this. Let these two rich white women satisfy six home boys. It’ll sell quick.”

Juan and Julio wanted to just fuck them, then drop them somewhere, be done with it. Shoot them if they wanted them to. Marca stayed quiet. He wasn’t senior enough to have an opinion unless they asked for it. The other two, Marcos and Ernesto, listened to the three.

Marcos said, “We’ll do this. We’ll make his movie, right here. Then you, then all of us, can fuck them as much as you want. You can go first. After that, we send the movie, and the women together, down the tunnel. Let them work at those bars when the movie plays. I know which club to call. I know who pays the best.”

With that, the six fired up some weed, poured some drinks and prepared for the show. Julio went around and cut the tape from each woman. As he did, he warned them with his sharp knife against their throats to stay quiet. “Muy tranquila,” he’d whisper, the meaning obvious. Soon, they both stood there, scared but trying to put on a show of arrogance. The mother said, “Well? What do you want? You want money? I can give you money. Just let us go, now!”

Marco turned to Julio. “Oh, right! Take her by the ATM later.” Then he said to her in English, “Quiet! You only talk when I says to. Now, you do what I says, when I says it, or the other one gets hurt. Bad. Show her.” He nodded at Marca. Marco took his heavy shoe and kicked the younger girl hard in her knee. She cried out, grabbing it, kneeling down some in pain. Marco moved up to the mother. “You do what I says, or we hurt her again. Comprende, bitch?!”

Susan stood there, scared shitless for sure but also mad as hell. How dare they treat them like this! How dare they! And now they hurt her daughter! She was raging with hate, but knew there was six against two, and she had to protect Melissa from these, these gangsters. She said, with a lot of contempt in her voice, “OK! Stop hurting her! I’ll do what you say, just stop hurting her!” The man suddenly slapped Susan hard across her face. Once, twice, almost six times it seemed like, very hard. He snarled at her. “You don’t talk unless I say to, white lady.”

Marcos stepped back. The woman clutched her face with her hands. He asked her how old she was. She said 38. He asked if this was her daughter. She said yes. How old is she? “Eighteen. Please...” Marcos turned to Ricardo. “You ready?”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead.” Ricardo had set a camera on a tripod in the room. He set up another one nearby, lower, then a third one to carry around. With all lights green, they began. Marcos said, “You, lady with the big tits, take off that top.”

Susan really didn’t want to, these bastards had no right, but what choice did she have? They made her slowly remove her blouse, exposing her new sexy lingerie. The man told Melissa to get behind her and undo her mother’s bra. Susan nodded and Melissa slowly did as she was told, shaking and looking terrified. He told her to take it off of her mother. She did, holding it by her side. “Drop it. Now, reach around and feel up your momma’s tata’s, girl.” Everyone was laughing. She could hear Melissa protesting, then the man slapped Susan’s face again, even harder. “Do what you’re told, little one!” Susan staggered back up. She felt Melissa get close behind her. She reached her arms under her own and put her hands on her breasts. 36D they were, too. She couldn’t get her entire hands over them. The man made her rub them, squeeze them, really work her nipples with her fingers. Melissa was leaning against her back, crying, whispering, “I’m sorry mom, I’m sorry...”