Brenda was cleaning up around the house, keeping herself busy as her new husband, Mitch sat in front of the television, flipping between basketball, football, and hockey games on different channels. Brenda always knew Mitch was a sports fanatic, and while she always had an appreciation for sports, she never quite understood how someone could be a walking encyclopedia of sports facts and trivia. It didn't matter though, for Brenda thought she had the 'perfect' marriage.
They had been married less than six months, and she already had a beautiful house, all contemporary furnishings, two brand new sports cars, a Jacuzzi, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, and a bathhouse complete with changing rooms, shower, and sauna. Mitch's extravagance easily influenced Brenda's decision to marry him. She obviously didn't have to work to maintain his generous income; however, she continued working as a secretary to her boss. She'd been working with him since she was sixteen, and didn't feel right abandoning him. The work wasn't that demanding anyway. Mitch worked as a sales agent for an architectural firm. Apparently, the huge bonuses and commissions were sufficient to maintain their healthy lifestyle.
Brenda recalled the first time she was escorted into Mitch's house. He had hit on her at a bar. She remembered getting quite drunk, and accepting his offer to 'crash' at his place till she sobered up. He assured her there would be no 'hanky panky' involved. Brenda was overwhelmed when she walked into his world, and within minutes, she attacked him. She locked her lips onto his, drove her tongue down his throat, ripped his clothes off him, and fucked him. It wasn't making love that night, it was pure, raw, animalistic, lust-filled fucking. They fucked on the living room floor, the couch, and finally in his bed before falling into an exhausted sleep. The next day, they resumed their activities in the pool, the Jacuzzi, and the sauna before Brenda got back to her apartment.
Ever since that night, it had been a whirlwind romance, engagement, and marriage. That was less than a year ago. Brenda smiled to herself as she contemplated reenacting that eventful night. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through her body and a hint of wetness grew between her legs. She wondered how she would tear Mitch away from the television though.
The last several weeks, Mitch had seemed distraught and distant. Brenda wasn't sure what was wrong, but Mitch was spending more and more time in front of the television, screaming at the teams that were losing. She didn't pay much attention to that, dismissing it as tension relief from the stresses of work. Little did Brenda know, Mitch had been hiding a deep, dark secret from her the entire time they knew each other.
As Brenda was cleaning, the doorbell rang. Brenda looked in on Mitch, who was so preoccupied with the television that he didn't hear the buzzer, and made her way to the large foyer. Looking through the colored panes of glass on either side of the door, Brenda vaguely made out the figure of several gentlemen, apparently dressed in suits. She couldn't see them in detail, but figured they were trying to sell something, or hand out church literature. She opened the heavy oak door and was greeted by three, rather large gentlemen. Each one towered over her five-foot, five-inch frame. Brenda guessed that each one was at least six-five, nearing three hundred pounds. They were not fat! They were simply ... HUGE! The Armani silk suits were tailored expertly, dressing down their overwhelming appearance. The gold rings flashed and sparkled as the setting sun glittered behind them. The dark sunglasses hid the eyes of all three men. Two of the men had short, military-style haircuts, with well-groomed, close-shaven goatees. The man in the middle had long, jet-black hair, pulled back and tied into a ponytail, which reached down to between his shoulder blades. He lowered his glasses slightly, giving Brenda a glimpse of his steel-grey eyes, smiled, exposing his pearl-white teeth, and spoke in a thick, heavy accent. "We're here to see Mitch. He's expecting us."
Brenda welcomed the unknown guests into the house, informing them that she would get Mitch. Brenda made her way into the den unaware that the three men were following right behind her. "Mitch! There's a couple of ..."
Mitch's eyes popped wide in horror, and Brenda thought he saw a ghost, as his skin turned pale white. Frightened by Mitch's behavior, Brenda spun on her heels to see what was scaring her husband so. Brenda was likewise frightened to see the three burly men standing right behind her. She figured they'd wait in the foyer.
There were no pleasantries, and no introductions. The two burly guys with the crew cuts surrounded Mitch and easily lifted him out of his chair by his shoulders. Mitch dangled mercilessly in the air as the two men held him a foot off the ground. Within a split second, the third guy landed three solid punches into Mitch's soft belly, driving the wind from his lungs, and causing a trail of blood to seep from the corner of his lips. Brenda screamed hysterically, not understanding what was happening, pleading for these guys to stop. Brenda watched helplessly as the black-gloved fist slammed into Mitch, time and time again.
"I'm calling the cops," she screamed as she turned to run for the phone. She was wrapped up in the strong arms of the punisher before she took two steps. She was spun around and landed with a thump in the chair across from Mitch.
"You ain't goin' nowhere, BITCH!" The mean guy slapped her face, leaving his red handprint on her cheek. Brenda yelped in pain as her eyes immediately watered, and tears trickled down her reddened flesh. Mitch meekly tried to come to his wife's rescue, but the two more punches, from his captors drained him of all his energy. Brenda felt the hand entwine in her auburn curls, twisting until he could hold her painfully, in place. Brenda and Mitch realized it was no use to fight, and resigned themselves to sitting there as ordered.
"Big Mac wants to know where his money is." The one with the long hair, seemed to be the ring leader.
Brenda's eyes furrowed as she questioned what these guys were talking about. She looked at Mitch for some answers. Mitch coughed, spitting up wads of blood as he sputtered, "I'll get it to him. I'm just in a slump right now." Another punch to the gut, and a hand slap across the back of the head, caused Mitch to go limp once again.
"That's not good enough for Big Mac." He yanked back on Brenda's hair, causing her to yelp in pain again as her head tilted back. Her eyes were pointed directly up towards her abuser as he spoke. "You borrowed the money! You knew the terms. It's time to pay up. Do you have the money right now, or not?"
Mitch lowered his head in shame and resign, slightly shaking his head.
"Big Mac was afraid of that. You've got a lot of stuff here. I'd hate to take out everything as collateral. It takes a lot of junk to come up with a hundred thousand!" Just then the brute to Mitch's right kicked a foot out, sending the glass end table on its side. The glass shattered, the wedding picture frame broke, and the designer lamp crumpled as everything fell to the floor.
Brenda shrieked as the noise filled her ears, and the vision of her wedding picture burned into her memory. "A hundred thousand dollars?" she thought to herself. Before she could ask any questions about how this came about, or what was happening, the leader filled her in.
"You just can't walk away from the big score! Mac told you to take your winnings and quit. Look what you got! The house, the pool, the goodies ... But you needed more. You had to impress little miss prissy here. You needed more money. Mac gave it to you. You spent it on miss prissy, a nice wedding, a great honeymoon, and more goodies around the house. You thought you'd make another big score, didn't you? It ain't happening is it? Well it's time to pay up!"
Just as Mitch thought it would be over, two more slugs landed in his stomach, doubling him over in pain as he slouched on the cushioned chair.
"Mitch!" The leader called out, trying to get his attention. "Mitch!" He finally lifted his head to look his tormentor in the eyes. "Mac's giving you a choice, since you don't have the money to pay." He took a long breath as he prepared his carefully chosen words. "We either take it out of you, or ... we take it out of your lovely wife!" He yanked back on her hair one more time, snickering cruelly as he gently caressed her cheek that had recently been slapped. |