Chapter 15

Friday pm – Ryan

"Thanks Ryan. Today was great." That was Becky as she got dressed after school. "Am I still invited to stay with you?"

"You don't even have to ask," I said.

I drove Becky home for a change of clothes, and she came of the double-wide with a overstuffed duffel bag. It seemed like she was moving in permanently – which was OK with me. I was kinda planning on giving up on other girls and counting on Becks to supply 'em for me. I hadn't forgotten the 'Surfer Girl' offer either, assuming I got in at USC.

I had a little surprise planned for the night. See, it was Friday, and I knew my dad wouldn't be home till very late. That gave me at least eight hours to work on my nefarious plan. (Thank god for spell check ... I couldn't spell 'nefarious' if my life depended on it. HAHA)

Becky dumped her bag in the back and climbed over me to get to the passenger seat. (You DO remember that I have a rag-top, right?) That was fun, cause she slithered all over, under, around, and through my arms and lap. In the process, the buttoned up blue man's dress shirt (HEY. Was that mine?) came all undone. No bra. And the cheerleader-length skirt got flipped up (Who could have done that? Not me, I was innocent. HAHA). No panties either.

"Ry, I'm not putting on my seat belt, so you'd better be real careful." That was all she said. What she DID was sit sideways on the seat, popped one titty out of the shirt, placed one sneaker-clad foot on the dashboard, proceeded to lift up her skirt, and started stroking that pretty pussy of hers.

I just turned to her and said, "How you expect me to drive when I got a centerfold showing me all her stuff? We'll be lucky if I can find drive."

I found drive but never brought that hand back the wheel. I just felt my way over without looking. I found the inside of her left thigh – the one she was sitting on. And – well you know me and the kind of guy I am – just went for the gusto directly. I trailed up her thigh and discovered – SURPRISE – her cunt, moist and practically panting for me.

I drove at a sedate 30 mph. My right hand also was doing a sedate 600 mph stroking only the outside of Ms. Pussy. For once, I was calm and in control and Ms Rebecca was going nuts.

When I pulled into the garage, I hopped out of the car before she could gather herself and lunge at me. I unlocked the door to the kitchen, but stood with my back to the door and asked, "Becks ... do you trust me?"

"No," she laughed. "Not a bit."

"Then I guess you'll have to sleep in the garage."

"If I have to ... then ... I don't NOT trust you. That's as far as I'll go."

I doubled up a necktie I'd left in the garage and tied it around her head, making a half-assed blindfold. She endured it peacefully. When I took both her hands in one of mine and held them behind her back, she didn't utter a sound. "This will only take a few seconds," I whispered menacingly. She smiled at my fake-threat.

I slid her shirt off one arm then the other and used my free hand to maul her breasts. That was fun. I popped open the door and led her down stairs, to my lair. Every evil villain has a lair.

Once down there, I quickly snapped the handcuff (that she used on me, earlier) on one wrist and quickly attached it to the pull up bar I'd had installed in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Ryan. This is not funny anymore." She'd de-blindfolded herself while I was playing with the handcuff.

"That's because I'm not going for laughs. Otherwise it'd be hilarious." I fixed her with my best evil-mastermind-psycho scare.

"Ryan." She was calm, talking to me like I was a crazy person, about to jump off a ledge. "Let me loose. This is not my kind of game."

In answer, I went to my bedside and came up with a couple of sets of wrist cuffs. They were different than police style handcuffs in that (1) they were about two inches of leather that buckled around the wrist and (2) you couldn't get out of them unless you undid the buckle.

I did up her free hand – not so easy since she was fighting me, but I was stronger and her other hand was restrained already – I just pulled it away from her body, put on the wrist cuff and then snapped the big d-ring to the pull up bar, outside the support. Then I redid her other wrist similarly.

Next was her skirt. Didn't want to mess up the cheerleader skirt! I undid the zipper and slid it down over her thrashing legs. All this time she was talking to me. "OK Ryan. You've had your fun. This could even BE fun, but not without me participating. And I won't participate, Ryan ... RYAN! You're not even listening."

This was annoying, especially since I wasn't even going to hurt her. This was all Lisa's idea after all – DO Becky for a long time. I wadded up an old t-shirt and stuffed it in her mouth. And then I took a pillow case and put it over her head.

"There, see what you made me do, Rebecca? I didn't want to do that. You have such a beautiful face. But you made me do it." I'd seen enough slasher flicks to know what a psycho would say. HAHA

Then I went to my weight set and put 30 lbs on each side of the bar, rolled it over to where she was standing in the doorway, and – after a struggle, cuffed each ankle to the outside of the bar.

"Now," I said to her, "we're really going to have a nice party. I've invited some of my friends from the team... " She started grunting – I think it was 'NO' – and violently shaking her head... "and we're all going to play with your body."

She seemed really scared. HAHA. I was pretty sure she'd never been in a gang bang before – in fact I'd never even tied her up before, never forced her into anything. But she was going to love this, I was sure.

I went to the back door and noisily opened it. "Okay guys," I said to the empty back yard. "She's ready for us." I flipped on the radio to mask the noise – really there was nobody who was going to hear anything. The neighbors were too far away, but I didn't want Becky to know. And rock music can be so sinister when it's really loud, you know?

She was trying to get the pillow off her head by rubbing it against her shoulder. "Oh no, Becky. You can't look. That'll ruin all our fun." So I took an necktie from the closet and tied it around her eyes around the outside of the pillowcase. And all this time she was thrashing her head and screaming and trying to get the t-shirt out of her mouth.

I came up with this whole idea when Lisa said to just do her (Becky). I figured I'd do it for hours, and she'd wind up loving it. I started my afternoon of "torture" by tickling her. She hated that, but I knew it would get her attention.

I tickled her ribs and the backs of her knees. She screamed and began these really hot gyrations with her body. I knew she was a cheerleader of course, athletic of course, but I didn't think she could move like THAT. She tried everything to get away from the tickling. I took a break after a while and found the feather duster that the housekeeper used. I didn't want to take the whole thing, so I just removed one feather. I brought it downstairs and used that, alternating with my fingers. Who knew that the feather on the inside of her thighs and armpits would make a person jump around like that?