Chapter Text
The whole time she led Al down the front steps, he had hardly skipped a beat. He was right there behind her, trailing her, watching her. He surprisingly allowed her to keep hold of his hand, and when he saw the flames of the fire flickering high, it cast shadows against her body. Beneath the flimsy white t-shirt she wore, he could see the outline of her large breasts. They hung a little low due to the fact that they were fat and natural, and it gave him a decent idea of what her nipples only looked like. His eyes trailed down to meet the cleft of her spine, and as he saw how the hemline of the shorts rode up her thighs, he knew that the shape of her ass was just as lush. He could see that she was quick to get rid of the bloody clothes from before, but he still liked the set she wore now. He could only imagine what she'd look like when completely nude. He had envisioned it for a while, and more so, he tried to catch a glimpse of her that night at her bathroom window. But the curtain had blocked his view. He couldn't see the curves of her body, nor could he see the look on her face when she dried herself off. Blood raced to his cock as he imagined the soft brown tresses of curls over her wet junction. And the scent, oh, he could savor it as she walked in front of him. Al could picture her soft folds. He imagined she'd be so smooth on the inside, prime for pumping, for curling his large fingers inside. He imagined smelling her tight little cunt on the silver of his rings, and the scent itself— he imagined it would be like fresh droplets of dewy saccharine. He couldn't help but think about her bent over on all fours, desperate, pleading. He could go on with his thoughts, but he was saving himself for the real thing. He had to have her. There wasn't any other option. He needed to break her in, to get inside her completely. With the way she watched him with suspicion, it wouldn't take him long to toy with her.
Michelina brought him over to the rest of the group and cleared off a folding chair for him to sit down on. She let go of his hand for a moment and brought it closer to the fire pit. Everyone began to notice this strange, black-clad man, and she wanted him as close to the flames as possible. The chair sat beside Max and Arleen, who watched as Al kept himself close to her. The redhead watched as the man's glasses sank for only a second, dipping with him as he tipped his head. She knew he was watching her friend. But as Michelina felt him eyeing her, the familiar trepidation returned. It pooled in her canal, moving through the walls and veins of her skin, and it fluttered to her clit with rushing blood. She was about to get another chair to avoid his eyes. When he took his seat, he pulled her to sit down with him. A strong arm enclosed around her waist. The young woman thudded against his chest, and the scent of his cologne made her feel drunk. It was warm, accented with sandalwood and pine, also with something else. It was something grainy that she couldn't place. The other two components were so strong, she couldn't tell what the third ingredient was. Its scent burrowed into her nostrils. But it was the sudden grasp that caught her off guard. He laughed against her neck. Her long dark hair hid most of his jaw, and the sunglasses kept his eyes veiled, hidden from any kind of contact.
"Hey look, Mick's got a new boyfriend," Alex laughed. Everyone else laughed too, but theirs were short-lived. There was an odd feeling of unease on the air, and as Max held Arleen close, the redhead kept looking over to her friend, then to the boys. Andrew was sitting close beside them, and he too was an ample build. He worked construction for eight hours a day, and he had muscle that was presentable like Al's. He kept an eye on Michelina as this stranger held her.
The remark only made Al grip her hips harder. He could tell the teenager was mocking her, and perhaps him too. But it also sparked a dangerous idea, one deep and twisted. A sharp, crooked smile appeared on his placid face. He replied with a sharp smile, "I could be if she wants me to be."
What the fuck? Michelina's eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open in a soft round shape as she nervously laughed. Her cheeks flushed red with blood. The sight of an embarrassed girl aroused him to no end, and as he clung to her, his thick forearms acted as a belt. She couldn't move, and she was secured without any room to nudge. He watched her intently, and with the hemline of her shorts retreating back to the apex of her thighs, he could see how lush and soft her flesh was. He wanted to grip her skin right then and there. He wanted to dig his fingernails into her, to claw at her, scratch her. He was becoming like an animal in heat, and while she was around other people, he couldn't have her the way he wanted.
An hour passed, and Andrew looked at his wrist watch. The time was 9:34, and it was after the boys' curfew. While the two sat in front of the pit, making s'mores, the area around them was dark. The streetlights were lit, but with poor lighting. Their bulbs weren't strong enough to provide adequate coverage. There were shadows cast over every vehicle on the block, and from the backyard, the house seemed covered in darkness. Only the fire flickered in the small pit. Max stretched then, and as Arleen curled into his chest, he rubbed his eye and cleared his throat. "Anyone have the time?" he asked.
"It's 9:35," Andrew said. "Which means I've got to get going, and that two young men need to get inside and go to bed."
Both Alex and Colby groaned, rolling their eyes. One of them had just taken a bite, the other finished their s'more. Across the way from the fire pit, Al watched them studiously. He observed their faces, their body language. He smiled as the two of them began to grovel. It reminded him of the times when he and Max were still kids. "Are you serious, dude? It's not even ten yet! Mick lets us stay up that late at least. Damn, you treat us like a bunch of old biddies."
Andrew snapped his fingers and laughed. "Come on, you two. You never gave me any shit while you were at my place, so why act up now? Now you know why you gotta go inside."
Alex rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, it's because of that Grabber bastard. We know. With you guys locking us up, I don't see how he could ever get us anyway."
The two young men cleaned up their trash and gathered their chocolate onto a plate. They stuffed it full of the graham crackers, marshmallows, anything they could find. Colby went back to the table and nudged for more. Alex ran up beside him and butted his hip. "Don't be taking all the brats, tank ass. Leave some for me at least."
After they plated everything up, the boys raced through the grass and towards the back steps. They managed to carry their food in hand without spilling it, and it was a miracle that they could run that well through the darkness. Their footsteps could be heard clattering up the wood. A creak of the door's hinges entered their ears, then it slammed shut. The lights to the kitchen turned on, and Michelina exhaled. They were inside and safe. No one could get them now. Andrew looked at Michelina and walked over to her, hugging her tight. He was nearly face to face with this Al, and he shot him a preemptive glare. It beheld the aura of you hurt her, I'll kill you. It was more or less him challenging Al on the spot.
"See you, sis. Thanks for letting us come over." He withdrew his hold on her, and as he took his keys in hand, he headed off. His lanky figure could be seen walking against the fence line of the neighbor's property. He was out of view in less than a minute.
But upon recollecting the time, a wide-eyed Max jolted to sit upright. His single beer spilled onto the grass beside him, and the bottle clattered to the ground. "What? Ah, shit. I've got to get going too. Arleen, honey, can you help me find my stuff? Just my luck, I'll forget something."
He moved to stand up, and Arleen followed suit. She lazily moved from his side and clung onto the flimsy blanket they shared. She was still half-asleep from the small nap, and Max tried to keep her upright. But of course, it was hard for him to do so without laughing. He planted a kiss on her nose, saying, "You're cute like that, you know? You look like a little Jawa."
"Shut up, smartass," she laughed, her eyes still half-closed. She began to take everything that belonged to them, and she put her sandals back on before they left. Max seemed hectic, if not jittery. If by happenstance, the firelight provided little coverage to the white powder that sat over the bank of his mustache. Arleen didn't see it, and perhaps it was a good thing she hadn't. She didn't like others doing drugs in front of her friend's brothers. No, not when she viewed them as brothers herself. Still, the two of them began to pack everything up. Arleen grabbed her keys and walked over to Michelina's side carefully. She was trying not to trip, but more so, she was trying not to get in arm's reach of this Al. She didn't want him to touch her whatsoever.
"Hey, I'm gonna head out with Max," she said. "Or at least, I'm gonna walk him to his car."
"Okay," Michelina said. Her tone was soft, if not scared. She looked over her shoulder, giving Al a decent look. Let me get up and hug her goodbye, she thought. She was already pulling herself away, and he released his hold on her waist, raising his hands up like a child who'd just been caught. She stood up, wrapping her arms around her friend's back. The two young women held each other for what seemed to be a decade, but as Max scrambled to Arleen's side, he held onto her shoulder. Michelina released her and gave her and Max a half-lived smile.
"Thanks for hosting us," Max said. "It was nice to finally meet you and the family. And Al?"
The elder Shaw looked up at his brother with disdain and coordinated composure. He pursed his chin in his fingers, and as he poised his elbow to rest on the chair, his voice went low. A growl escaped his lips as he answered his brother. "What?"
"I'll take care of Samson before I leave."
"That's fine."
Arleen hurried along and took Max's hand in hers. There was a look of unease in her bright blues, and she practically dragged Max towards the front of the house. They carried everything around the side to the driveway, and just like Andrew, they dipped out of view. It was just Michelina and Al around the fire now, and it was a prime setting for them to be alone. Her brothers were inside, hopefully with the door locked, and everyone else got inside their cars. She could hear the engines starting from the driveway and the street, and with two sets of headlights turning on, everything remained dim. She couldn't see the shape of anything, and it was just the crackling sound of the fire in her ears. But he wasn't about to waste this opportunity. Now she was alone. No one else was around to watch out for her, and that was an arousing thought in itself.
---
As she watched everyone drive away, Al took it upon himself to quietly come up behind her. He snaked his arms around her waist, and with the warm wind blowing her hair back, it gave him room to nuzzle his face against her throat. Startled, Michelina's hand came around and she tried to hit him. His hand caught her ample wrist, and he squeezed hard. He pulled her back into his arms, and with her shirt riding up her belly, he could feel the heat of her body reverberate against him. Arching her back, she tried to move away. He smiled deeply, and as he felt her squirm, she scoffed at him, especially as his arms wrapped around her chest. His chortling laughs made her skin crawl with both pleasure and anxiety.
"You still seemed shocked to see me," he teased.
"You're the last person I ever expected to show up at my front door," she said. "What do you want?"
He spread her legs open then, and allowed her to feel his growing erection. Her eyes went wide. It was as hard as the phallus that had hurt her years before, and it made her remember everything she'd gone through. She imagined being bent back over, having her clothes ripped from her body. The feeling made her wriggle against his hips, and she swallowed hard. She looked away from him, but the sound of her breathing alerted him to the fact she was aroused. He could smell her glaze, but he wouldn't take her just yet. He needed her defenses gone. He needed her to be completely hopeless. She could feel his hands guiding her hips on his lap, and it was almost like a game. It was strategic, it was planned. Every time he jolted his hips against hers, a small rasp escaped her.
You son of a bitch. This is wrong, and you know it.
He squeezed her thighs, clawing deep into the soft skin with brute force. There wasn't anything gentle about his touch at all. It was rough, coarse, and as she panted, he could smell her slick pooling at her entrance. If she hadn't been wearing her panties and shorts, perhaps she would've dripped onto his crotch. And what a sight that would be. To imagine the firelight casting shadows over her curls, against the wet labia between her legs. It was arousing, to say the least. But as his hands dipped in between her thighs, she elbowed her way out of his hold. She stood up quickly, and though he was only a few inches taller than her, the two were face to face. He loved this now. He could see she was a fighter. She had the same bravado as the others. In her eyes there was spirit, and as she thrashed in his hold, he gripped her hair in his hand. He pulled her head back with a tough pull, and she whimpered in pain. He was tired of her fighting him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and now he began to pull her against his chest. Deep, low growls escaped his lips as she drove her fingernails into his pectorals. She tried to push him away, but of course, he was stronger. He wasn't about to let her go anywhere.
"Well, how's that for a rewarding gesture? I hold you and try to calm you down this morning, and you're clawing at me," he seethed.
"Maybe it's because you have no business handling me like this. You don't know how to treat a lady, that's for sure."
Al took the opportunity to mock her further. "Who said you were a lady? It's not that hard to tell you're aroused, and I'm sure you can feel what you do to me."
She shook her head and pulled her brows together. "You fucker."
The way she said those words made blood rush to his cock again. Now she tried to give him a decent slap. Her palm was flat, and her fingers were straightened. As she pulled her arm way to try and slug him, Al caught her wrist. With his acute strength, wrapped his other arm under her thighs. Michelina's mouth fell open as she felt the brutal touch under her ass. He growled against her temple, "So that's where the boys get their foul mouths from. Tsk, tsk, it's not very cordial, is it?"
He lifted her up in his arms, and in turn, she had no choice but to cling to him. She could feel his erection brushing against her mound, and the friction of his thighs as he walked along made her ache. She couldn't help but let a deep moan escape her lips. Once he took them both up the stairs and entered through the back door, he kept her pinned against the hallway wall. The boys' television could be heard upstairs. It masked any sounds she made as he handled her. He couldn't give himself away, not now. There was still much that needed to be done, and he was so close to reeling her in. She tried not to look at him, but she was still so damnably curious about those eyes. He still wore his sunglasses, and hid away anything that would give his intentions away. But seeing as he was still a guest in her house, he allowed her to slide down off his waist. He still cornered her as a precaution. Their hips were pressed together, and their chests still touched. She huffed, out of breath, but now there was a half-angry, half-hungry look in her brown irises. He had aroused her, but she didn't want to admit it. She would rather die than say it out loud. But then the familiar Machiavellian smile returned, then died immediately.
"Before I leave, allow me to give you a parting gift."
He hadn't wasted any time diving to his knees. He pressed one leg over his shoulder, and as he inhaled her scent, it made her quiver in fear. If she could've seen how blown his pupils were behind those lenses, it would've been enough to level the earth into nothingness. He hungrily licked his lips, then without warning her, he drove his teeth into the inner sanctum of her thigh. Michelina cried out and gripped his shoulder at first. The sharp crookedness of his canines burrowed deep into her skin, nearly breaking it and drawing blood. His growls were guttural in their volume. She couldn't even cry out for him to stop, because in reality, she didn't want him to. She hated him for it. She hated what he brought out in her. To muffle her cries, she threw her hand over her mouth. The boys were still up in their room, and for her sake, they didn't come out to investigate the sounds. Al removed his mouth from her and through the pain and pleasure, she bled. His lips were covered in blood. He hoisted her leg off his shoulder and watched as she shivered against the wall. She turned her head to look away as he stood back up.
"I'll be seeing you some other time, I'm sure," he said. "Nighty-night, naughty girl."
He walked towards the front door and pulled his shoes back on his feet. He made himself look presentable before leaving her house. As the oak door began to close behind him, she rushed to secure it. However, she managed to catch a glimpse of the vehicle he drove. It was a long panel van, done up with a black matte scheme that graced its entire build. He moved to get into the driver's seat, and when he started the engine, he held his long arm out of the window. He waved his hand at her as he began to drive away. But as the van began to fade out of view, she managed to see the decal on the side of the van. It was the same as what was printed on the card he slipped her: Abracadabra Entertainment and Supplies. She suddenly felt her hips quiver in pain and fear. She stepped back inside and immediately slammed the door shut. The chain was thrown and the lock was secured. Was he really-? But there was no description of what the Grabber drove. No one knew if he drove a truck, a car, or a van like that one. No one knew a damn thing about this man, except that he abducted the kids in broad daylight. She tried to convince herself that he was just an ass.
Don't fucking think about it. He's just a rough bastard, that's all. You'll go crazy with this shit, and it won't do you or the boys any good. Besides, he works at a hardware store for Christ's sake. He's got to have room for everything, and I'm sure that magician bullshit, that's just a side gig. I doubt he's that good anyway.
Denial ran all throughout her body. Michelina's thigh felt like it was burning, and every time she brushed her other thigh against it, it stung. Fresh tears formed in her eyes every time she moved. She went into the bathroom to clean the sizable bite mark. The crescent shape he left her was crooked, aligned with different imprints. It was unique. The redness of her skin faded lightly as she cleaned it with soap and warm water. She moved to take care of the slick that pooled between her legs, she removed her shorts without pause. When she pulled the garment down, it was the only thing she wove her fingers around. There wasn't an elastic band for her to grab onto. She frantically tried to reach for them again, thinking she was just amiss from the encounter she just had. Then it occurred to her something was missing— her favorite pair of black lace panties.
How? How the fuck did you do that?
But of course, knowing his demeanor, he'd probably tell her that a magician never reveals his secrets. But to her, he would. In the next encounter, she'd make him tell her, and she'd be better prepared next time.