Chapter 17: Distractions

Ron and Kevin were middle-aged and black, two small time burglars with a drug habit. They’d been caught a few times, but the money was good and they were getting better at it. Last month they’d done their first home invasion, tying up the elderly couple as they ransacked their expensive home. That had earned them almost three grand. Tonight, they hoped to do as well or better. They were getting pretty brazen, but they were also tired of always being broke.

It was just after 10 pm. They parked their old Chevrolet in the shadows near a luxury neighborhood. They both wore brown jumpsuits; part of their disguise. They walked up to the front door, the tools of their trade in a plain brown box. Ron rang the doorbell. A voice on the speaker asked who was there.

“UPS, ma’am. Got a delivery that needs a signature.”

Less than a minute later, the door unlocked and a woman stood there. Middle-aged, typical overweight housewife. Ron quickly put a Glock 40 to her face. “Quiet! Not a word!” he said sternly, his face close to hers; angry. He kept staring at her as he pushed his way in, shoving her back while holding the gun to her forehead. She stumbled backwards, eyes wide open, mouth open, caught completely off guard. Kevin came in, put the box on the table and took out some duct tape while Ron kept whispering, “quiet, bitch, just stay quiet.” Quickly, Kevin taped the woman’s hands behind her. As he was about to tape her mouth shut, he asked who else was in the house.

“Just ... just ... just my daughter, Emily. Upstairs. Please, what do you want? Just leave...” Kevin put the tape over her mouth. The two took the woman in back, into a living/family room. They pushed the woman down onto a sofa. While Kevin taped her feet tightly together, Ron said to her, “You stay here. Keep quiet. We’re just gonna take some things, then we’ll be gone.”

Kevin pulled a pillowcase from their box, started going through drawers in the downstairs rooms. Ron took a pillowcase and went upstairs. At the top of the stairs, he saw a room with a light on. He went over, slowly looked in. A girl sat at her desk, her back to him, with ear buds on. He carefully walked up behind her, then suddenly grabbed her; one hand around her face, the other around her waist. He yanked her up from her chair as she jumped, crying out. He pushed her face down on her bed roughly with both hands, stifling any kind of scream. He leaned down, close to her face.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You be still and don’t fucking move, bitch. We’re here to rob the place. You behave, you and your momma won’t get hurt. You understand me?! Do what you’re fucking told!” He shoved her face into the mattress more. She cried out a muffled “yes...”

Ron eased off her a bit. “Yes, ok, I will...” She murmured, looking completely surprised. Ron looked around, grabbed a belt from her bathrobe nearby. He quickly tied her hands behind her, then yanked her up and put her on the floor. He noticed she was tall, thin, yet strong. She must play sports he thought. Very good looking in those pajamas. He went through her things, threw a few items into his pillowcase, including one of her panties after he took a long sniff of it in front of her. She said angrily, “You sick fuck!” Oooh, a girl with attitude! Next, he dragged her into the hallway, dropped her on the floor, snarled at her not to move. He went from room to room, grabbing anything of value. Satisfied, he went over, forced the girl up and dragged her downstairs with his sack of goods.

Emily was beyond scared. Burglars! In her house! She lay on the carpet in her pajamas. She was barely 18 years old. Cute, with blonde hair, Emily was just starting to develop a bust finally. She didn’t mind, though. She was into volleyball and field hockey more than boys right now. Sports were her thing. Boys all wanted those dumb cheerleaders. She’d dated a couple of boys, only gone ‘all the way’ once, with Mike, the assistant coach. That was three months ago.

As Emily lay still in the hallway, she watched the black man going from room to room, searching. He came out of the last room and grabbed her up, forcing her downstairs. Maybe they’d leave now, she hoped. She saw her mom sitting on the couch, taped up. Another black man stood there. Emily felt like she was starting to get this bathrobe tie loosened a little.

The two men spoke to each other, looking in their sacks at what they’d found. Emily stood nearby, the one man still holding her left arm tightly. She was trying not to cry, looking to her mom for what to do now. The second man said, “Ok, let’s go then,” but the man holding her said “Hold on a minute.”

Ron turned the girl around towards them, grinning, looking her up and down. Just some young kid. He said, “You know, as long as we’re here. You ever done a baby white girl before?”

The second man stopped, looking at Emily. He chuckled some. “For real? Shit, man, she looks like she’s maybe twelve, bro. Shit...” Kevin looked her up and down. He said to her, “How old are you, girl?” Emily said, quietly, trying to keep her voice steady, “Eight, eighteen...”

Ron said, “No fucking way you’re eighteen, girl! Where’s your fucking tits? What year were you born?” The girl just stared down, not sure what to say to the first question. She did manage to say the year.

Ron whistled, still holding the girl’s arm. “Well, well, well. You really are eighteen, huh? Yo, be a shame to let this go to waste now.” He set his bag down with the box. “Know what I’m thinkin’? Let’s see if she can do what they do down at the club.”

Emily listened. The second man asked, “Yo, yo, like put on a show?” The two men laughed, then turned to her. The man holding her arm pulled her closer, reached behind her and untied her hands. As he did, he spoke to her. “Listen up. You gonna do what I says, or I’m gonna hurt your momma real bad.” He grabbed her jaw and squeezed hard. “Understand?!”

Emily, crying now, shaking, said with eyes wide in terror, “Yes sir, yessir, ok...”

Ron stood back, grinning. He told Kevin to check the kitchen for beer. He came back with two bottles. Kevin dug through his bag; came out with a prescription bottle.

“Found these Viagra’s in the bathroom cabinet. Here, take some.” He handed the bottle to Ron after taking out three himself. He popped them in his mouth, washed them down with his beer. Ron did the same. Ron turned to the girl. “What’s your name?”

“Emily...” she whispered.

Ron stood near her, then poked a finger at her pajama top. “Well, Emily. Come over here.” She slowly took a step closer. “Take off my clothes.”

Kevin laughed, went to the kitchen, came back with a big kitchen knife. He messed with his iPhone for a bit, then started playing some loud rap music, setting it down on the sofa. Emily was standing there, arguing that she couldn’t, she didn’t want to. Kevin went over to her mom, then put a big cut in her arm with the knife. Blood began running down her arm. The girl screamed, begging him to stop. Ron turned to her, yelled angrily, “Then do what you’re told, girl!”

Not sure what to do, Emily looked around at the two men and her mom, hesitating in every movement; standing there, shaking in both fear and anger. Making her do this; it made her so mad. The man held the knife to her mom again. “No, ok, ok, ok...” Slowly, she turned to the first man, then slowly, she pulled the zipper of his jumpsuit down. She stopped at the waist, but he told her to keep going. She pulled the jumpsuit off his shoulders, down to the floor. He had on dark red boxer shorts, nothing else. She turned away, blushing, embarrassed. The man told her to take off his shorts next.

Ron watched the young-looking blonde girl. You could tell she was getting mad again. She started cursing at them, telling them they’d better get the fuck out or the cops are gonna get both of them. “You’ll get in a lot of trouble! I only just turned eighteen yesterday, you know!” She seemed unsure of whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing to say, but he could tell she was grasping for anything. Every time Ron tried to grab her and make her take his shorts off, she’d jerk back, yell “NO!” She’d do it again when he grabbed her again. Kevin put the knife down, came over and helped Ron. This little teenager was putting up one hell of a fight! Her arms were just flying about, hands in little fists. She kept kicking her legs out at them, trying to keep them away. Kevin grabbed her right arm; Ron grabbed her left arm. She kept fighting them; pulling, twisting, bending, kicking, struggling every way she could to get free. Finally, Ron got mad enough and slapped the girl once across her face. She partially blocked it, but she didn’t block the quick punch to her ribs, then the hard punch to the side of her head. She went down to one knee on the carpet, gasping for air.

Her head was ringing, throbbing. Her ribs were on fire. This felt like the time she’d accidently went into the bleachers during a volleyball game, landing on the seats on her side. Still, Emily tried to keep from having to take the old black guy’s shorts off. God, he must be at least thirty years old! She got hit again, then two more times. Finally, she cried, “Ok! Ok! I’ll do it! Ok! Stop!” Hesitantly, her entire body trembling, hurting from all the blows, slowly Emily took two fingers and slowly, looking away, she pulled them down, until they went all the way to the floor. She stayed kneeling there, shaking still, eyes looking at the floor. The other man spoke.

“Now me,” Kevin said.

Eyes pleading, Emily slowly turned to the second man, avoiding looking at the other naked man standing right next to her. Her mom was having a fit, really struggling, but couldn’t get free. Emily paused, watched her mom, then slowly stood up and moved over to the second man. With trembling hands, she took hold of his jumpsuit zipper and undid it. Once down, she eased it off his shoulders. He was a big man, not only overweight but with big muscles too. The jumpsuit slid down to the floor. He had on black briefs. “Them too,” he snarled.

Slowly, she reached forward with one hand, two fingers, and took hold of the elastic waistband. It kept slipping, so she had to reach three fingers under it and get hold of it that way. It was so gross. He was dressed like the first man; naked under the jumpsuit except for his boxers. She eased the underwear down as the man stepped out of the jumpsuit. Kevin kept saying, over and over, “Keep them eyes open, little girl. Keep them open...”

Emily saw this enormous penis hanging in front of her. She’d only seen Mike’s once, but this, this was nothing like her old boyfriend’s. Holy cow! She’d see one once in an African tribal movie at school, and in books at the library, but never up close like this. This, this was real, this was an African-American grown-up’s giant penis mere inches in front of her, and it was huge! It was dark brown. It had this vein running along the top. She could see a dark ball sack underneath. His hair was all black around the base. This thing of his looked like it was a foot long! Now that she had to look, she couldn’t stop looking. It was so fucking big around. She wondered if she could even put one hand around it and touch her fingers. Maybe. Then there was this big flared head at the end, slightly lighter in color and blunt with a little hole in the end. She stared with eyes open in shock. She’d never seen anything like this, ever, and now she was in her PJ’s, kneeling in front of one. She got even more scared when she thought to herself maybe they wanted to have sex with her. No way, there was no way that giant monster could fit inside her. She could barely fit a tampon. But she could tell he wanted to try, so she started saying, voice shaking, “No, no, no, no ... you can’t ... no, it won’t, it won’t, it’s too, no, it won’t fit...”