Chapter 31: Mr. Rogers Neighborhood

Jessica Lewis had just turned fifteen last week. She lived with her divorced mother in a run-down apartment building in a poorer part of town, a place they had only recently moved into. Being a very cute young teenager, she found the local boys all had a big interest in her. She had no interest in them, though. First of all, they were all black, and she was about the only white person she could see. She found them to be threatening, loud and very obscene in their language towards her. Second, her first love was Biology, a subject she studied every chance she could. She was hoping to go to college a year early. Pursue her dreams and get out of this hell hole.

Tonight, though, was Tuesday night, trash night. Her mom was out on a date, so Jessica was home studying alone. Around nine o’clock, she grabbed the kitchen garbage bag, tied it up and went down to the alley to put it in the dumpster.

Next door, Mark Rogers sat in his old house. He was retired, living on a pension. He looked like any ordinary old black man in the neighborhood. Kept a neat yard. What people didn’t know was his hobby. In his basement he had added sound-proofing. A lot of soundproofing. You could yell or even scream down there; nobody upstairs could hear you. For the past twenty years, he’d plan, then kidnap young girls. Young, white girls. He’d bring them to his house, put them in the basement and play with them for a few days. Then he’d call his cousin Leroy in Oakland, who’d come grab the young white girl and take her to his whore operation near Las Vegas. Mark made pretty good money doing this, a couple of grand each time. He’d had four in the last five years. He wasn’t getting any younger, though. At 68, it wasn’t as easy to control a young girl as it used to be.

Then this young girl had moved in right next door, into the apartment building. He started watching her; taking pictures secretly. She was the right age; around sixteen or seventeen he figured. She had a nice, cute little ass; and very nice tits. She was white. He watched her for weeks. He noticed that every Thursday night she’d bring the trash to the dumpster in the alley between his house and her building. He began making plans.

Jessica walked down the stairs, opened the door and stepped into the alley. She didn’t see any local guys around; all looked quiet. She walked over to the dumpster, lifted the lid and dropped the bag inside. She closed it and turned back towards the building. Suddenly someone grabbed her from behind; holding some wet cloth over her face. In moments everything went fuzzy, then everything went blank.

She woke up, blinking, eyes slowing focusing. She was in a room, a room with mattresses on the wall. A single light was on by the stairs. Her hands were tied over her head as she stood in the center of this place. She struggled; she was tied tightly and couldn’t get free. Her mouth was taped. A door opened; then a man walked down the stairs towards her. He was completely naked, yet he looked familiar. He did, he was the old black man who lived next door! She yelled into the tape, struggling. He walked up to her.

“Listen up, girl. You belong to me now. You do what I tell you to do, when I tells you to. You understand me?!”

He picked up something from the table nearby; put it to her side. It went ZAP! The taser made her jump alright; scream too. He went on.

“Every time you don’t do what I sez, you get this. Got it?” He zapped her again. Again, she jumped, screamed. He pulled the tape off. “Go ahead and scream. Ain’t nobody can hear you. This place is sound-proof. Scream all you want! Don’t make no difference to me. But when ah says shut up, you shut the fuck up.” He zapped her again.

Jessica stood there, arms over her head, face sore from having the tape ripped off. She was more angry than anything, but after getting zapped three times she was starting to cry from the pain. Tears came from her eyes despite her attempt to stay strong and not cry. She did scream, but when he told her she’d better shut up when he said to and zapped her again, she decided it best to do what he says.

Her voice trembled, “Please, mister, please, what do you want? I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” she cried. “Please, don’t do that again ... don’t, please, don’t hurt me, please...”

Mark stood in front of her, a Viagra-fueled erection starting to grow. He held his iPhone as he asked her questions, noting her answers.

“What’s your name?”

“Jessica...”

How old are you?”

“I’m, I’m, fourteen, I mean, fifteen. I just turned fifteen, last week, I...”

“How tall are you? About five foot four maybe?”

“About, about that...”

“And about 120 pounds?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, about ... What, what do you...”

“What bra size do you wear?”

She looked at him quizzically. “What? What ... What size is my...?”

He sighed, took the taser, tased her again. She screamed.

“What size bra do you wear? How big are your fucking tits, white girl?”

Jessica was shaking like crazy, gasping, breathing fast, terrified. She finally managed to say, “Uh, um, 33A, or B ... I think. Please, don’t do that again...”

The man began sending a text. The phone rang. He answered it; began reading off her answers. He finished with an “OK,” and hung up. He turned, took her picture, then sent it to someone.

Mark looked her over some, rubbed his dick some. He already had baby oil on it. She was a cute little white girl, very well developed for her age. 33B on a fifteen-year-old? Fuck, nice! She had brown hair, just below her shoulders. She wore some eye makeup, some lipstick, pretty subtle though. Pretty brown eyes. She had on a polo shirt, shorts, sneakers. He reached over, picked up a pair of scissors. His best ones. He took ahold of her shirt in front at the bottom, put the scissors to it. She immediately started screaming for him to stop. He held her shirt tight, cutting it right up the middle. When he got up between her tits, she stopped struggling, afraid of getting cut. He cut it to the top, then cut at her sleeves, along her arms until he was able to take it completely off of her in shreds. She stood there, her feet barely touching the floor. Her breasts stood out, her bra not hiding much. He walked around her, stopped behind her. He undid her bra.

She kept crying, pleading with him. “No, please, don’t, don’t do this, please, don’t...”

He reached up, cut each strap. He watched it slowly drop to the floor. He walked around in front of her. She started screaming at him.

“Motherfucker! You’d better let me go! I know who you are! Let me go right now, dammit! I’ll tell my mother on you! Let me go!”

Mark ignored her. He leaned down, putting an arm behind her back. He pressed his mouth to her right tit, began to suck on that nice, big, brown nipple of hers. It got hard fairly quick. The whole areola puffed out some. He moved to her other tit, sucked on it. She screamed some, even yelling for help, but he knew no one could hear her.

He stepped back a moment, took the taser and touched her tit with it. She screamed, jerked. He leaned close, grabbed her head with one hand, began to French kiss that young mouth of hers. Her lips tasted sweet; he could taste her lipstick. She struggled some, but when he held the taser up she stopped, let him kiss her. He said to her, “Kiss me back, girl, kiss me back...” and put the taser to her, not activating it but pressing it firmly to her side. She hesitated a couple of times, then she started using her tongue and began to kiss him back to keep from getting zapped again. Her breasts lightly rubbed against his hairy, grey chest.

After a few minutes of kissing and having her breasts molested, the old man stopped and stepped back. He reached down, undid her shorts and started to pull them down. Jessica knew she couldn’t stop him. Still, she struggled some; pleading with him to stop. Down they went, then off with her sneakers. He knelt down as he did this. He reached up and pulled her panties down next. She was completely nude now. She kept her knees tightly pressed together. Her small bush was right in front of the man’s face. He took ahold of her hips; Jessica jerked, he pulled her towards him and he began to lick his tongue on her privates down there. All over her, he licked her bush and clitoris. It felt so gross! And there were her freaking nipples, all erect and puffy like mad now. As he molested her, his hands slid around and began to rub her butt cheeks. He kept pulling her towards his face. With her hands tied over her head, she couldn’t stop it.

Mark had a Pummel horse he’d bought at a garage sale. Someone’s gymnast kid had outgrown it. Now he went over, undid the rope holding the girl’s arms over her head. He pulled it down, she tried to pull away, but he forced her over to the Pummel horse and tied her down, bent over it. He had this place set up right. Once he had her arms tied to the ring in front of her, he stood up and laughed. She kept begging him, pleading with him to let her go. “I want to go home! I want to go home!” she kept saying over and over. He walked over to her, holding his now erect cock in his hand. Big and brown it was; still a fine specimen of black meat. He held it out, rubbed the head around in her hair. It was soft, it felt good. He rubbed the tip across her ear a few times, then moved up to her young tits. She wasn’t very big for a teenager, but her tits sure were. They were nice and big. Soft, perfect. Leroy was gonna love this little girl. Leroy had complained about the last one having no tits. Well, what did you expect for an eleven-year-old? Mark rubbed his cock all over the side of her breast and across her nipple for a long while, kept talking trash to her.