Suitcase Heist: Lesbian Capture

The restaurant is dimly illuminated by candles on the tables and grim lamps on the walls. A table for two located in the back near the kitchen exit is occupied by a well-dressed couple. The man wears a pinstriped suit and a ridiculous fedora, paired with an elegant silk tie. He is joined with a woman in a form fitting black dress adorned with gold spikes and a scarf. A heavy gray suitcase that doesn't nearly match her outfit rests next to her high-heeled boots.

A young waitress approaches the couple. She flashes a berry colored smile and takes out her order pad, tapping it nervously. "Good evening, my name is Nessie. I will be your server. May I interest you in a cocktail?" she asks.

The man speaks up. "A glass of the wine special tonight for me. And the Chardonnay for my date." The server nods politely, jotting it down, and exits. Once the waitress is out of earshot, the man is the first to speak.

"You know, from a distance, it will look as if I am proposing to you, Miss Talon" he says slyly. He gives her a little smile, perhaps even hopeful, and pats a small rectangular box in his coat jacket.

Miss Talon throws her hair behind her shoulder. "Oh Byron, you know how I am." She gives him a wink and taps her red nails on the tablecloth. "Haven't we already discovered that our tastes are very...different?"

"Must it require such a heist as this just to bring us into the same room? It's been too long, Rosalie." Byron flashes a winning smile. "Maybe we could pretend I was proposing? For old times sake?"

Rosalie smiles tightly, barely amused. "When first I met you through this business, you were much more focused on the task," she chided.

Nessie and another waitress approach with their wine. Nessie steps forward to pour Rosalie's glass. After pouring a small amount, she pauses for her to taste.

Rosalie's dark lipstick stains the glass when she takes her first sip. Then, a gleeful smile forms when her eyes meet Nessie's. "Hm..an appealing aroma. Not too dry, and it has a fresh taste." She takes another, slower sip. "The body could be fuller.." She looks Nessie up and down. "but it is perfectly smooth." She sets the glass down while still keeping eye contact with the young waitress.

Nessie blushes, unsure if the woman is talking about the wine or her own body. "Is it..um..to your liking, Miss Talon?" When the woman nods, she fills the rest of the glass.

Suddenly, the other waitress loudly yelps. She had missed Byron's glass, and some had dripped onto the previously pristine table cloth. She apologizes profusely, quickly trying to blot the stain with her napkin. What a scene! After the rest of the wine was poured, she leaves, embarrassed.

Nessie straightens up, as she had dropped the napkin off of her arm in surprise. "I apologize for Jessica. May I take your order?"

After choosing their meal, they wait again for the waitresses to leave before beginning conversation. Byron says with a wink, "If you had your way, I know you wouldn't let someone that pretty get away with such a mistake without proper punishment."

Rosalie responds with an icy glare, though her lips hint at a smile. "I always get what I want. Now, the package?"

Byron sits back. "I must be sure, so I'm afraid you'll have to pay first, yes? I couldn't act out my proposal without making sure," he suggests. Another frustrating wink to Rosalie. She opens the lock and hands it to him.

He peeks inside, and then his flirting character becomes stony. "I never would have expected this. After all we have done together..." He shakes his head. "I expected much better from you, Miss Talon."

Rosalie is shocked, unconvinced. He hands her back the briefcase and of course, the cash is missing, replaced with newspaper. She can only shake her head. He closes the briefcase, stands abruptly, and leaves. Her mind is spinning. How could it have been stolen? She had checked before she left! What had happened? She examined the suitcase...though it bore resemblance to her case, it wasn't the case. Someone had switched it!

She gets the attention of a nearby waiter. He walks towards her with a water pitcher. "Could you please tell my waitress, Nessie, not to bring out Byron's order?"

He looks at her, puzzled. "I don't recall a waitress who works here named Nessie, and I have worked here for years..I can tell the kitchen, though..." Rosalie sits frozen, taking it all in. "Miss? Do you need something?"

Rosalie stands and leaves out the nearest exit, through the kitchen. The waitress! Sure enough, she sees Nessie leaving with the gray suitcase, her suitcase, walking briskly to a car in the far lot. Reeling in rage, Rosalie pulls her pistol out of her handbag. "Freeze," she yells to the girl. Nessie whirls around, and seeing Rosalie, she turns back around to walk even more quickly. There are no cars surrounding her own to provide cover. Then, she hears a gunshot and sees that the bullet had landed near her foot.

Rosalie advances quickly, taking long strides. "I SAID FREEZE!" Bewildered, Nessie stops and turns around, and only to feel the cold metal of the gun pressing into her stomach. Rosalie's other hand closes around the back of her neck and she seizes the case.

Rosalie grins wickedly. "Come with me," she commands. And she leads the helpless girl back to her own car, a two-door Cadillac.

Nessie had not anticipated the gun. "You can't kill me. You don't know the code. I changed it, and I'm the only one that can open it, or it will self-destruct and you will lose everything!" she bargains. She is desperate now.

"I'll find a way," Rosalie replies. She pushes the bewildered girl into the back seat of the car, sending her sprawling. Before Nessie could open the opposite door and crawl out, Rosalie jumps into the back seat. She grabs a few zipties from the middle car compartment. Her body presses firmly against Nessie's, preventing escape.

Nessie aims a few kicks at her, but she stops when she hears the gun's safety click off again. Paralyzed in apprehension, she feels the zip ties bind her hands behind her back, and her ankles together. Rosalie removes her scarf and covers Nessie's eyes and nose with it. The windows are too darkly tinted for the outside world to see in, so help is unlikely.

The car begins to move. Nessie smells the woman's perfume on the scarf, which is annoyingly enticing and not at all comforting. Rosalie drives in silence back to her house, which is far from the city and fairly isolated.

Once they reach the noisy highway, Nessie's hands quietly grope for the door, trying it. Locked. Rosalie laughs audibly, and then asks, "How old are you, dear? You're quite young for such a heist." Rosalie's mood has been elevated considerably, which concerns her even more. Nessie only sighs.

Rosalie smiles at her frustration. "I looked at your ID when I took your purse, which says you're 22. But I know it's a fake, though it's an excellent fake...So tell me the truth."

Silence.

"Not talkative? Well I'm going to get you to talk soon enough, one way or another." Her mood is so jovial that it doesn't sound like a threat, but a suggestion. As if she just told her they were going to Disneyland. Nessie becomes increasingly more uncomfortable during the silent drive as the zip ties dig into her wrists.

The car moves for quite a while, winding up a hill and finally coming to a smooth stop. Nessie feels a chill when the door opened, and she is dragged out of the car. The car door slams shut, and she is then roughly bent over the car hood and pinned by Miss Talon's hips pushing against her ass.

Rosalie revels in her victory. She could hack into the lock mechanism, but she has devised a way to open the case that will be much more fun..at least for her. She not only has the money-she also has a plaything.

Nessie does not want to be a plaything. She is furious. In retaliation, as her hands are still bound behind her back near Rosalie' crotch, she aggressively grabs at it. Miss Talon steps back in surprise, giving her a small victory! Nessie spins around to fight, but her hair is grabbed roughly. Then, her head is thrown into the side of the car. The world spins, and she crumples to the concrete. Rosalie gently picks up the dizzy girl and carries her into the house.

Though disoriented, Nessie is still conscious and tries to make a plan. How can she escape alive? If she lets the code slip, then she becomes expendable and could be killed. But if she proves to be useless, then she is also expendable if her captor breaks the code. Her head is still spinning when she feels rope being tied quickly around her wrists. The zip ties are cut, but her wrists are now tied to a couch with rope.

"You have something that I want," says Rosalie. Nessie refuses to give her the satisfaction of responding. Rosalie removes the scarf from over her eyes. To Nessie's dismay, her vision focuses on a triumphant woman standing over her holding a decorative, sharp looking dagger. She takes a deep breath.

Rosalie straddles the fearful girl while turning the knife so that light flashes off it. She ogles her little waitress outfit: a red bowtie, white button-down blouse, black pencil skirt, stockings, and unnecessarily high heels. Too bad this cute outfit was going to be cut to pieces. Rosalie places the knife just underneath the bowtie and cuts it, grazing the knife over her throat and applying force against her windpipe.

"Now, let's make this easy. Tell me the code for the case."

"The first digit is 1," Nessie gasps.

"I know when people lie, and you just lied."

"You have no way of checking. If you did, you would have already opened it."

"Oh no, dear, I definitely could just open it." Rosalie smiles cruelly. "This is purely for my pleasure."

"Prove to me that you can check."

"I have you tied to a couch and a knife to your throat. I don't need to prove anything."

"Then how would you know that I'm lying?"

Rosalie throws the knife down next to the couch and leaves the room to grab her lock kit. She picks up the case to check it. She slowly turns the lock mechanism to the first digit, and she finally hears it click. The correct number isn't 1, it's something else. She checks for the numbers, and the first digits are 7-4-3, but the fourth number is impossible figure out. She clenches her jaw, and strides back towards the room with her captive.

Time freezes. Nessie's mind starts turning. This interrogation-this isn't because Rosalie needs the code from her-this is a sick, sadistic game! And she is being toyed with. She notices the knots that tie her hands together over her head to a black leather couch. If she reaches, maybe she could untie them. Her legs are still zip tied together, but not secured to the couch...good. She can still kick.

The knife on the floor is just in reach of her feet, and Rosalie is still in the other room. In a fluid movement, she swings her feet over the side to pick up the knife and passes it to her hands. She cuts through the bonds and sprints towards the door, But Rosalie is now blocking the way.

Nessie bolts the other direction, ending up in a bedroom. Oh, sweet escape! French doors leading outside! She runs towards them, hands clamoring to open the lock, when BAM! A gunshot hole was ripped through the glass next to her head. Aiming hastily, she throws the dagger in her hand at Rosalie, but it uselessly misses three feet to the left.

Rosalie approaches, but with surprising speed, Nessie swings her fist into her attacker's wrist, knocking the gun out of her grasp. She then grabs the surprised woman's hair, but then she doubles over in pain-Rosalie had slammed her knee into her stomach. The lean woman forces Nessie to her knees with ease. The next thing she knows, the world has black spots and her throat is being constricted by strong hands! Consciousness escapes her.

Nessie's vision clears to see the hole in the window. She is sitting on a stool and her hands are secured above her in cuffs, which are attached to a hard point in the ceiling. What kind of person had a hard point in their ceiling? Suddenly, the stool is pulled from underneath her, and she is forced to stand. Her ankles are in cuffs attached to a 3-foot long spreader bar that keeps her legs apart and makes her skirt ride up uncomfortably high.

She gasps when Rosalie grabs the top of her button-down and rips the shirt apart, sending buttons flying. Panicked, Nessie tries to turn around, but she freezes when she feels a cold blade on her neck. Rosalie cuts her left sleeve, then the right, and pulls the blouse off of her. Then, Nessie feels the dagger slowly slide between her shoulder blades until it cuts her bra in three quick slices. She sighs from relief that her skin remains intact.

Rosalie unzips the skirt and then tears the rest off down the seam. She cups Nessie's breasts in her hands and leans her body close to the girl's smooth, bare skin. She moves her red lips close to the her ear. "There's no escape, hm? No one to free you, just you and me. And I have you all to myself..that makes you mine." She pinched the girls' nipples and slowly, slowly twists.

"How old are you?" asks Rosalie.

'Fuck you!" hisses Nessie.

"That's part of the plan, little girl. Age?"

Nessie waits as the pain increases.

Rosalie continues to twist mercilessly, harder and harder.

"20. 20. Please, it's too much..."

Rosalie lets go and slaps her breasts harshly.

"That's awfully young to be pulling heists like this already," comments Rosalie. Her hands slowly slip down her waist to her thong. Nessie pulls one leg up to put the spreader bar at an angle, trying to close her legs. But the woman simply puts a foot on the bar to hold it down with her weight.

The frightened girl's arms jangle the chain above her head and she tries to move to shake the woman's hands off her body. But Rosalie is only amused, and she takes a nipple in her right hand to twist while her left hand continues to move between her legs and under her panties. For some reason, they are soaked.

As her body is violated, Nessie fights an unmistakable, burning feeling of desire for this woman. As torturous as this is, how can she draw out the interrogation so her partner has time to find her and rescue her?

Without warning, Rosalie thrusts a finger into her pussy and fucks her furiously against her g-spot. Nessie's struggling is no match for her strength and stamina. The captive throws her head back in surprise and arousal, only to feel lips latch onto her neck.

"No!" Nessie gasps. She pulls on her restraints, but with no success. The penetration, the pain on her breasts, the kiss on her neck..she is angry about how turned on she is. She mutters, "stop, stop, you can't make..." but her sentence is lost when she feels tension creeping up inside her, threatening to overwhelm her with an unwilling orgasm. But Rosalie suddenly withdraws.

"Tell me the first number, and I'll let you finish" offers Rosalie. She then shows her the wet finger that was just inside her. Nessie remains silent. She won't let this stranger make her cum! This experience will never mistaken as pleasurable.

Rosalie narrows her eyes. "Oh? So you don't want to cum? Hah!" she crows. "Then I may spare you...this time, but don't expect to keep that pussy from me forever."

Nessie turns to face Rosalie, and returns a frustrated, unwavering stare. Seconds pass by. A minute. Two minutes, though it feels like an hour as the two women stare each other down. Finally, Rosalie breaks the eye contact. But this does not mean that Nessie had won. Her eyes had broken contact to move down to the girl's dripping sex that betrays her resistance. Her fingers move gently up her inner thigh and then rest over her clit. She began to tap it, and then rubbed in very small, delicate circles.

Nessie holds her breath. She looks down at the fingers of her captor, but her chin is lifted to meet Rosalie's eyes again. The tension inside her builds. If she allows orgasm, the control of her own sex would be relinquished, which is all she has left.

"7," she exhales. She then averts her eyes to look out the window with the bullet hole. Rosalie pushes two fingers into the girl's soft insides, bringing her to the edge, and then stops. Her fingers rest inside Nessie, and the frightened girl backs away from the violation.

So, Rosalie withdraws abruptly and slaps her butt with wet fingers, making a satisfying smack. One number down. Three to go.

There is an ornate oak cabinet in the corner of the room. Any normal person would expect clothes, jewels, or shoes. But no! It holds items that inflict much more pain than any pair of high heels. Rosalie ceremoniously throws the doors open to reveal an arsenal of torture items. Her hands feel the different pain implements, trying to decide. They rest on a red suede flogger with medium-thin falls. She removes the flogger from the hook and swings it. The red makes a fan shape as it flies through the air. Rosalie slams the flogger down onto the bed, making a startling sound.

Nessie's toes curl in anticipation. She could only imagine the extent of her captor's sadism. Her mind could conjure worse torture items, though this implement looked quite scary. She lets out a sigh. And the implement strikes her body. The material is soft, but leaves a sting. A few more blows land on her body, and she turns to meet Rosalie's eyes.

Rosalie is triumphant, standing straight and tall. She circles her prey, drinking in every reaction. Fear, uncertainty, pain, shame from her arousal...was her victim actually a masochist? She sees Nessie drop her eyes to the floor and close them. Did she enjoy this, or was she trying to block her out? Rosalie wanted to test her more.

She swings her arm harder now, allowing the blows to sink further into her captive's toned muscles. Then, she returns to the cabinet to pull out a leather riding crop. She slaps it against her own palm, letting Nessie hear the sound of the impact. That sound would soon be made on her own body. A sting blazes across Nessie's back. Another on her ass. And oh! One on her clit! She lifts up one fit to close her legs, but Rosalie steps on the bar, anchoring it back onto the floor.

Three more strikes land over her ass, near her sensitive pussy. Suddenly, the dagger is dragging across her skin, this time to cut her panties away. Nessie lets out a breath when she realizes that no blood was spilled.

The riding crop strikes her, this time against her breasts. Her nipples stand up, making her even more sensitive to the pain. She tries stepping away, but Rosalie is too quick to be evaded. Nessie begins to learn Rosalie's body language, side stepping and turning as she watches her feet. But Rosalie just returns to the cabinet and pulls out a blindfold to place over her eyes. It is padded and comfy, but definitely not comforting. In response, she tries shaking it off, but it is too tight.

Laughing, Rosalie pulls out a thin cane and focuses on her ass now. Red lines crisscross, marking every time she hits her target. This time, the pain bites much more than the soft leather of the flogger. She strokes Nessie's arm gently with one hand while hitting her with the other. In one fluid movement, Nessie's head whips around and she bites Rosalie's arm.

Rosalie's expression darkens. She has teeth too! She rakes her fingernails down the helpless girl's belly. Then, she sinks her teeth into a pressure point in her shoulder, almost hard enough to break the skin. A loud yelp escapes the captive. Rosalie whirls her around and bites her left nipple, pulling and stretching her.

"The next number?" she demands through her teeth. She hits the girl's ass with the cane, pushing each strike in and prolonging the pain before the next one. Each impact feels like fire. Nessie allows a tear to fall down her cheek and a single word to escape: "4."