Plaything 35



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After that, he got out a pair of her own bright yellow high-heel pumps and
forced them on her feet. Only then did he help her down the stairs, through the
house, and out the back door where his car was waiting. The house and garage
blocked any neighbors` view as he forced her to sit in the front seat. He moved
her hair so it covered most of her gag and blindfold. Then he went around to the
driver`s seat. Once in, he pulled her head onto his lap.
Kirby lay across the front seat, her hands up as far as they could go, her palms
open in a 64stop`9 gesture. She started scissoring her legs, kicking. He put a
hand to her neck and squeezed threateningly. Her agitated, tired limbs stilled.
He leaned over and seat-belted her waist in. Then he took his own seat belt and
put it around her neck. Kirby`s knees were together, but her ankles were apart,
one foot at the mid-car bump, the other at the door.
Finally his hand went from her neck to her breast, squeezing it through the low
dress top. Kirby moaned anew, her head rubbing his lap.
The bartender started the car. He backed out of the driveway. He put the car
into forward gear. He slipped his hand inside Kirby`s dress. Then he drove away
from the house.
Harold Ellsworth had Cyndi Rowland standing in front of her bed`s backboard. She
was in a black-and red rose-patterned bustier with garter straps. The stockings
were also black, with lace tops. The high heels were shiny black pumps that were
four-inches high. Her wrists were cinched behind her with black tape. Her ankles
were affixed to a thin black pole that kept her legs spread by more than
twenty-four inches.
In her mouth, between her red-painted lips, under her teeth, was a thick black
pad. Over and through it was an elastic strap which held it deep inside.
Her blond hair-all of it-was freshly washed, dried, and scented. Her chest,
above her lace enshrined tits, was glistening from the drool which fell over her
tremulous lower lip.
Ellsworth was resplendent in a blue pin-striped, three-piece suit-with his
zipper open and his schlong hanging out. That was the first thing I tended to
upon entry.
We were all in Cyndi`s father`s house. The old man was dying down the hall, and
Cyndi was still a Cinderella slave in her own room. Her evil stepbrother and
stepsister were nowhere to be found, however.
I placed the blade of my knife against his slimy penis and spoke gently but
firmly in his ear. . "We check the comings and goings of magazine models as a
matter of course." I shrugged. "Call it a habit. So when last year`s crop
started disappearing from view, some get excited, some get concerned. In any
case, an alarm goes out."
"Who ... who are you?" Ellsworth stammered, daring not to move. When I put a
blade on a prick, that prick knows it hasn`t long for this world.
"Not important," I replied. "What is important is that I am one of many who are
extremely interested, for a variety of reasons, why Ms. February disappeared
from her teaching job. Ms. March never showed up for her weekly manicure,
facial, and haircut; Ms. April never arrived at the destination of her holiday;
and why Ms. May`s red Mustang convertible was found abandoned and stripped some
miles from her stepfather`s home."
"I... I don`t know anything, about that," Ellsworth said, his mouth dry.
"No," I agreed. "But you do know why Ms. January never returned to her previous
lifestyle many miles away from her estranged father`s home, don`t you?"
I didn`t wait for an answer. I merely took the blade from his dick and slid it
between his third and fourth rib.



I pulled it out and let him fall face first to the thick carpet. That would help
soak up the blood. Then I cleaned the knife on his suit and tended to the
Rowland woman.
"Is he dead?" was the first thing she asked when I pried the gag out of her
mouth.
I resisted a sarcastic impulse and started cutting the tape from her wrists.
"With any luck," I replied honestly. With her arms free, I helped her sit on the
edge of her bed, which had lately become a torture chamber. She gripped me
convulsively.
"Did you ... did you get Audrey and Oswald?" she asked.
I kneeled to undo her feet. "No," I said.
She sat, trying to comprehend what had and was happening. "Oh my god," she
finally breathed. "It`s them." She had heard my little speech to the late
lawyer.
"Most probably," I said, picking up the unattached leg spreader. "But now they
aren`t alone. Other perverse rapists and kidnappers are out there stalking them
now. They are all over the town you live in. They will be here soon, no doubt."
My father," she gasped.
"Don`t worry," I said quickly. "Reputable doctors and nurses will see to him.
It`s possible his other children saw to it that his condition worsened. In any
case, he`s in good hands now." I was not lying. Snoot, my computer whiz Wall
Street contact, had been working overtime since Black Monday. It was he who
found the Playthings pattern and sent me in the fight Rowland direction. It was
also he who recommended the proper medical authorities.
"Besides," I continued, "they`re not after your father. They`re after you."
More awareness dawned on Cyndi`s face. "Justine," she realized. "Megan, Clarissa
"And all the others," I completed for her. "Your step-siblings are hiding them,
and now they have shadows ready, willing, and able to seek them. And if they do
locate them before the authorities, your friends will never be seen again."
Cyndi Rowland looked from the window to me. I looked back into her deep,
concerned blue eyes.
"What can we do?" she asked.
"Let`s find them first," said I.
Yes, Tyler 12 ended on a cliffhanger. To be continued folks



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