Chapter 35: Opportunity in the Night II

Marcus Risen and his partner Jimi Holte were cruising around Eventon Farms, a small community, in their stolen AT&T van. This was on the opposite side of the city from their previous score; that was when they’d fucked that girl scout. Since then, they’d been hoping for an opportunity like that again. Marcus’s sister worked at a restaurant and heard this family discussing their upcoming trip. She’d talked to them some, then got their address from their credit card number. She knew they were leaving this Thursday, gone for a week. She passed it on to Marcus in exchange for a piece of the take. “I want first choice with the jewelry!”

Marcus’s online search showed this to be a wealthy area, and he noticed the few cars that weren’t locked in a garage were expensive ones. This was just around 4:30 PM. Perfect time. They totally blended. Wearing overalls, they parked in front of the house, went around back and found a basement window. Jimi checked the alarm, went to the box and disabled it. Didn’t matter it turned out. The basement window wasn’t part of the security because it didn’t open. They used a blanket to cover the sound and broke the glass; crawled inside.

Twenty minutes later they went back out through the broken window, four pillow cases full of things, including cash, jewelry and checking account numbers. In the darkness they got in their van and drove away. As They turned the corner, they saw two teenage girls walking along the sidewalk together. They drove past, made a quick plan, the turned around. Marcus pulled up beside the two, stopped as Jimi asked all friendly-like if they could help him find an address. As he stepped out and fumbled with some papers, Marcus slid out and came around back, behind the two girls. As he came up behind, one looked back and gasped, eyes wide at the sight of Marcus pointing a gun at them.

Becky Stevenson and Janice Turner were both fourteen. They’d been walking home from the Taylor’s. They lived next door to each other two blocks over. As they walked down the sidewalk, this AT&T van pulled up and the man started asking them for directions. Neither girl noticed the second man until he was coming up behind them, pointing a gun at them. The first man started grabbing them, shoving them into the van through the front door. As the two men shoved the second girl in, Marcus ran around and got behind the wheel. Jimi got in, closed the door, then climbed in back where the two girls now knelt, trying to hold onto something. He yelled at them, screaming for them to both lie down, face down. He grabbed Janice, pushing her down; Becky followed beside her. Both girls were crying, begging him to let them go. He grabbed some tie wraps from a work bin, secured the brunette’s wrists behind her. He took another, tie-wrapped her ankles together. He just sat on the other girl, telling them to shut up. He punched Becky once, then Janice when she didn’t keep quiet either. Each one got hit again before they finally stopped, now pleading quietly for them to let them both go. As Marcus drove towards the hood, Jimi had some fun. He rubbed the brunette’s ass slowly, really making her squirm a lot. She kept begging him to stop doing that. The other girl told him to stop too, but instead he started rubbing her ass too. Soft, yet firm. Tight. He leaned down, talking trash to them.

“You be my bitches now. I own these little white asses of yours. You gonna do lots of things for me. Lots of things. You do what ah says, you might just live through it, go home later. You don’t, I’ll gut your pig asses and leave you for the rats.” He gripped the blonde’s hair hard. “You understand me, bitch?!”

“Yes, yes! Ok, please, let go! Ow! Please! I’ll be quiet! I promise!” Janice was on the floor of this truck, a big, heavy black man sitting on her back, making it hard to even breathe. She struggled for every breath. He said they had to do something for them. She had no idea what. He gripped her hair; it hurt like crazy. He let go, slamming her face down to the floor, her glasses falling off. He yelled at Becky, then slapped her. This big black man was very angry; very violent. Janice shook in fear. She couldn’t stop crying now. Her ribs hurt from where he’d hit her before.

Janice was blonde and fourteen and a half years old, slightly older than Becky. She looked fourteen with small breasts, wide hips and a cute butt. She had on a sweatshirt, jean shorts, panties and a jacket. She stood 5’4” tall, weighed about 100 pounds. Becky was about the same height, weighed about the same. Becky had brown hair, also down to the middle of her back. She weighed maybe 110 pounds, with a softer butt and some breasts that were very developed already. She was dressed the same as Janice; sweatshirt, short-shorts, panties. She also did not wear a bra; Becky still wasn’t used to wearing one, though she certainly needed one these days. Now she lay on the floor, crammed next to Janice with her arms and feet bound. What had they gotten themselves into? What was happening? Where were they going? A million questions went through her mind as the big black man yelled at them constantly, feeling them up as they drove down the highway. He even scratched his finger on her crotch, right by her vagina, then smelled his finger and told her she smelled good. So gross! Only her breasts remained untouched, lying on the floor like this.

Marcus exited at Hamilton Street, turned right, two blocks, then right again. He pulled in behind their crib, parked and jumped out. The alley was deserted. He slid open the door, grabbed the brunette and dragged her from the van. He lifted her easily, dragging her inside through the back door. She kept talking low, pleading, asking why, what were they doing, that sort of crap. He slammed her into the door frame as he went through the doorway, then through the door to the basement.

Behind him, Jimi held his gun to Janice’s neck, gripping her left arm and forcing her to move quickly behind the other two. Inside, Janice could hear voices, other men. The room downstairs was lit. She saw several black men standing around a big screen tv playing a game. Except now they were all looking at her as she was forced to walk down the stairs and then stand next the Becky.

Everyone was hooting and hollering, making a big fuss over the two young girls. Someone cut Becky’s ties off. Then one guy, the one who had driven the van, said “Hold up, hold up...” and started talking to them. Janice stood beside Becky, clutching each other, shaking. One of the men who had grabbed her, the bald-headed one, said they were both fourteen years old. More whistles. There were five big black men including the two that brought them here. The bald man started talking to her and Becky. told them that they had to put on a show. He said she had to start. First, she had to take off Becky’s clothes. Janice stood there, gripping Becky, shaking her head, whispering no. One man walked closer, grabbed her arm and then slapped her really hard in the side of her head. Her ear rang as her head reeled in pain. He yelled at her, “Do what you’re told, bitch!” He let go of her arm, stepped back.

Janice looked around. Everyone was still staring angrily at her. The man who had just hit her snarled angrily, raising his hand again. Janice started to move. At first, she slowly turned towards her best friend. Becky stood there crying. Janice slowly took her sweatshirt, slowly eased it up and off of her. Becky reluctantly let her. Becky kept pleading with them not to do this, but Janice stayed quiet. Her face still hurt a lot from that last hit. Becky grasped the sweatshirt to herself. Next, she slowly undid Becky’s jeans, then knelt as she slid them down. Becky was shaking a lot; Janice could only do what they kept telling her to. She stood back up as Becky stepped out the pants. Becky stood there naked in her panties, arms across her ample chest. Janice felt sorry for her; they’d be rougher on her because of those breasts, for sure.