How to Greet an Unwelcome Visitor

He unmasked her. His eyebrows arched.

"Sandy?...C'mere."

"What for?"

"Just, uh...take a little peek here."

The girl continued sobbing. "God, please don't make me go to jail," she whined and begged. "I swear, I'll do absolutely anything. I'll-I'll make it up to you. I'll-I've-I've got money. You can have it. I'll d—I'll-I'll work for you, or something, for free! I'll be your slave!"

These last several words took Sandy's brows up an inch as well. As she neared them, she noticed what Lou was bringing to her attention: the young lady's newly unveiled face. It was...remarkably...cute. If a little messy and tear-stained. But suddenly, the Burtons' minds, as they had a way of doing, came together as one. They began to see possibilities here. Perhaps there was another option.

"Well...I'll be..." Sandra commented.

"Sandy..." Lou smirked at her. "...You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sandra's lips curled up into a smirk of her own...and kept curling.

"...They still down there?"

"Well, I sure hope so. We explicitly told them to stay right where they were."

"Wha—...what? Who? What...what're you talking about?" the girl wished to know.

"We're asking the questions here," Sandy told her. "Now, just to be clear, my young lass...when you said you'll do anything to keep yourself from getting locked up...I just have to make sure—did you mean that?"

Sensing a possible way out, she nodded emphatically. "Yes! Yes! A hundred percent, I do!"

To her astonished relief, she thought she heard the words, "Sorry, false alarm," followed by a beep. She was right. Sandy hung up.

"Very well, then. I suppose, given the circumstances...we can let you off this particular hook..."

The girl gasped, breaking into a wave of happy tears. "Oh, thank you!" she exulted. "Thank you, thank you, tha—!"

"Ohhh, don't thank us yet, little thing," Lou chuckled down at her. "You still have to pay for what you've done."

"That's right," Sandra added. She took a firm hold of the girl's brown hair and turned her face to look her in the eyes. "The only difference is, at least for a little while, we're going to keep you in our own little prison."

She didn't believe she loved the sound of this. "H—...huh?"

"Oh, yes; I believe you heard me. Now...what's your name, young lady?"

"...Eleanor."

"And your last name?"

"Eh, Mayhew. Eleanor Mayhew."

"Is that a fake name?" Lou asked. "Because if it is, we will find out."

"He's right," Sandy informed. "We don't like liars. We don't like burglars either, but lying's very bad when you're already in trouble."

"No, no, honest. That's really my name. I promise."

"All right. We'll believe you then. So! Eleanor...here's how things are gonna go," the Sandy lady explained to her. "First, we're gonna take back the stuff you took from us, and put your knife in a safe place as well. Then, we've got some special, eh...plans, for you."

She and Lou smiled at each other. Lou dynamically said the next several frightening words.

"Go get the ropes, Sandy; let's tie her ass up. Looks like we're gonna have a show tonight after all!"

*****

Discovery...Showtime...Bravo...Encore...

Friday, August 26th, 2016, 9:44 p.m.

Half an hour later, Lou had reentered the basement to again address their guests. He explained that while there'd been a few unusual—and unnerving—turns of events this evening, things seemed to have sorted themselves out. Behind the closed door, Sandra waited, at the bottom of the steps. She gestured, and cautiously down hopped a frightened Eleanor Mayhew, stripped completely naked, hands bound behind her back, feet tied together as well. They'd trussed her up early for several reasons. One of them was so she couldn't try anything funny. Another was how they delighted in the sight of a girl's exposed boobs bouncing in the air as she hopped.

"C'mon down," Sandy urged her. "It's all right. I'll catch you if you fall."

It wasn't necessary. Eleanor made it down just fine by keeping her knees bent.

"'Atta girl! See how nice we suddenly are when you're all tied up, naked and helpless?

"Now, Elie, it's okay if you're nervous. It's pretty natural in a case like this. But we're about to go in there and provide these nice people with some real entertainment. We shall not do anything to disconcert them, or put a damper on their evening. Therefore, if you need to do anything like, say, toss your cookies, now would be the time. You need a bucket or anything?"

"Erm, no, I think I'm okay, Miss..."

"Mrs. Sandy."

"Right."

They heard Lou inside, finishing his new announcement by introducing Eleanor. Sandy nodded, took hold of the knob with one hand, and slipped her other arm in Eleanor's.

"A'righty, my little bandit, here we go!" She tossed open the door and escorted their new young friend in. Eleanor was reluctant, and frankly a little petrified. By the contents of those couple drawers she'd found in their bedroom, she might have known they'd literally lasso her into their wicked world of kink. Just what had she gotten herself into here? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. But she had a feeling this evening would see her paying up—dearly—for her crime. If they decided not to turn her in to the police, they logically had to have some severe punishment in store for her. Oh well, she thought...at least she wasn't going to jail...

As the lady took her in, however, and she half-shimmied and half-hopped alongside...seeing sixty-eight people besides her host and hostess, she felt the full brunt of embarrassment nail her. All four of her cheeks almost instantly turned red. They seemed to be applauding, but even so, Elie could see she was right. This was going to be hell. All these ladies and gents, dozens and dozens of eyes glued on her, the merry grins and giggles on their faces...oh, she could already feel the humiliation creeping over.

"Oh my fucking God," she muttered to Sandy over the fanfare. "How many people are in here??"

"Oh, about seventy, give or take."

"What?! You didn't tell me that!"

"What, and spoil the fun?" Sandra murmured back. She raised her voice to address the crowd before Eleanor could say anything more.

"Our newest virgin model indeed, ladies and gentlemen, Miss Eleanor Mayhew!"

More cheers. Eleanor didn't think she could look at the audience. She was abruptly so mortified. She'd never been nude before so much of a crowd as five or six people since she was born. She looked down at the floor, her toes digging into the carpet. She couldn't even cover herself with her hands tied behind her back. This was quickly turning into a very rough night. Now she thought she understood what the Sandy lady meant by saying she'd be kept in their "own little prison."

"Oh, God..." Eleanor moaned. She blew out a sigh. "Mrs. Sandy, um...what do I have to do?"

Sandra reached into a pocket and whipped out a black scarf.

"Well, first off, hold still...and I'm gonna put this blindfold here on ya..."

She did so, dismaying Eleanor yet further by depriving her of sight. The audience reacted approvingly.

"Good girl. Now why don't'cha go ahead and lay down on your back for us..."

Elie made a whining sound, indicating she really didn't want to do this—especially blindfolded—but she obeyed. Sandy instructed her how she wanted her to lie: feet pointing in the direction of Lou and the door, head back towards the far wall. Sandra then sat beside her legs, Native American-style, and began with the words, "Righty-roo then!"

She slid a single index nail up the bottom of Eleanor's right foot. The girl abruptly tensed up and squealed with laughter.

"AHHHHAAHAAAHAA! Omigod, please don't do that!" she shouted as the crowd laughed with initial applause. "I'm way too ticklish!!"

"Ohhhhh," chorused the audience. Elie sensed she might have just made an error.

"Oh, really?...Are you now?" Sandy sensually cooed. "Big mistake, my dear; that was the wrong information to share with me."

Eleanor let her head drop back to the floor. "Oh nooooo," she groaned. "You're gonna tickle me to death, aren't you!"

Sandra laughed, patting her ankle.

"No, no, Elie. As much as I—and many of us in this room—adore tickling in general, I've something a bit more sophisticated in mind.

"But, eh, I don't want your cute little piggies to worry," she added, tweaking Eleanor's toes one by one. "I certainly plan to sprinkle in some nice tickles here and there, as things progress. For now, though, Miss Elie, question for you. Are you straight or gay?"

Eleanor raised her curious head back up. A bemused grimace crossed her face.

"I'm straight," she stated, as if it should be obvious.

"Hundred percent straight? Sure about that?"

"Um, yeah. Hundred plus percent. What the hell kinda question is that??"

Sandy nodded. "Spoken like a true straight girl. All right, you've convinced me." She looked up to the crowd. "Lesbies!"

Elie's ears perked. "Huh??"

"Where are ya?" Sandy wanted to know. "Where're my lesbians here tonight?"

A small smattering a female cheers ensued. Eleanor again tensed up.

"What?" she chirped. "Wh—...what is going on??"

Ignoring their evening's model/slave, Sandy waved the lesbians from their seats.

"Well, get on over here then! Let's put that hundred plus percent to the test, shall we??"

Elie suddenly felt downright terrified. Panic assaulted her every nerve. Not all lesbians in attendance were interested to play with Eleanor. But four eager female audience members hopped up to flock and surround her. Eleanor heard and felt their approach.

"WHAT is happening??" she demanded to know.

"Ah, ah, Elie," Sandra chided her. "You told us you'd do absolutely anything to keep from going to prison, did you not?"

All four participating lesbians and sixty-some-odd others turned their faces Sandy's way. One of the four around Elie's sprawled body, a freckly ginger named Tiffy, replied first.

"Prison??"

The girl beside Tiffy, a short-haired blonde called Fiona, had the next question.

"What did she do?"

Sandra grinned, having been waiting for this moment.

"Well, my friends...you remember our unusual set of circumstances this evening? When Lou explained to you how our featured model was unable to be with us? Well, that would've been just about the time I heard some noises and rushed in. Hence, why we asked you all to please stay put, for your own safety. At which point Lou and I returned upstairs to find our Miss Eleanor here...having broken into our house, indeed...stealing our things."

She waved a t'sk'ing finger down at the helpless naked lass on the floor, as the crowd reacted accordingly.

"That's right, friends; until Lou subdued her himself...we had a burglar."

Eleanor let her head drop and face droop, now quite humbled and ashamed of herself. She exhaled through the next chorus of gasps. As if on cue, the four gals sitting around her administered a harsh, unisonous, very condescending scolding.

"Why, you little bandit!" chided Raquel, a heavily banged brunette sitting to her right.

"Bad girl!" exclaimed Fiona, prodding Elie's shoulder. "Bad, bad, very bad!"

"Not cool, my friend," Tiffy admonished, pinching her on the bottom. Finally, the dirty blonde across from Tiffy chimed in as well.

"Mm-mm...indeed. Not cool at all," Jade shook her head, giving Eleanor a series of light disciplinary smacks on the cheek.

"So!" Sandy nodded at their opening comments. "Elie? My dear? You starting to see where this is headed?"

"Oh, Jesus H. Fucking Christ," Eleanor doomily lamented. "You...you're all gonna gay-rape me, aren't you??"

"We-ell!" Sandra laughed. "I wouldn't say they're all technically gonna rape ya, sweetheart. But I think you've got the basic gist of what's going on. We all do plan to have some, uh..."

It was this moment she chose to scrape her nail up the sole of Elie's other, untouched foot. Already frazzled, she screamed.

"...SPECIAL FUN WITH YA," Sandy finished, shouting to be heard over the girl. When Eleanor's faded, Sandra's voice returned to its normal volume. "So whaddaya think? Starting to see what can happen when you decide to invade someone's home?"

Elie was ready to sigh, cry and die.

"Oh God, I'm sor-ry-y-y-y!" she blubbered. "I'm so, so fucking sorry, Miss...Whatever Your Name Was! PLEASE don't do this to me!!"

"Too late for that, I'm afraid, Elie. May I please reiterate: you did say you'd do anything for us if we kept the cops away. The way I see it, you could have chosen to be 'gay-raped'—as you so eloquently put it—either here, or behind bars. Frankly, I think you made the right choice. You simply broke into the wrong house."

Eleanor heard a chilly, haunting chuckle from one of the lesbians. The presumably same one caressed her cheek and jaw.

"Well, I can't speak for all of us, but I'm quite pleased with this choice," cooed Fiona, letting her fingertips glide down to Elie's neck.

"Mm, she is a spicy little number, is she not?" Raquel jumped in.

Jade gave a quiet scoff. "I just wanna fuckin' scare her."

Well, this sure required little effort; Eleanor was already filled with dread.

"Oh, it won't be so bad, Elie," Sandy advised her. "Just roll with it. And pay no attention to all the cameras rolling on you right now. Nor the prospect of this video becoming a top-selling new volume in the Fetish Buffet catalogue."

Eleanor whipped her head up off the floor. "WHAT?!!"

"Oh, uh, didn't we mention that?" Lou called over to her from behind the standing tripod. "Why, yes, of course, Eleanor; y'see, I'm operating a camera right here. Then there are three more strategically placed around the room."

"And as you're our impromptu model for the evening, they're all capturing your lovely essence right now," Sandy added. "Smile!"

Elie Mayhew couldn't work up a smile right now if her life literally depended on it. She turned maroon. Her digits curled and twisted. Her eyes shut tight under the blindfold, grimacing. As if by making this anguished face, she could make-believe the nightmare would go away. Oh, she didn't care for this...she didn't like it at all, not one tiny little bit.

"Oh, fucking God, please, you can't do this to me!" she pleaded. She heard vindictive laughter, followed by a pat on her thigh.

"Isn't she adorable?" asked one voice.

"Precious as a kitten," answered a second. "And allllll tied up, just for us."

"And speaking of pussies..." a third jumped in, prompting more laughter from the crowd and hosts. The only person not laughing was self-evident. Eleanor's horror only intensified. She squeezed her thighs together, wishing to let no one in. Unfortunately, she was pretty certain wishing would bring her up zeroes right now. And she was far from wrong. Tiffy, a playful and whimsical sort, reached just below Elie's knee and danced her fingertips up her leg. "Uh-oh, burglar girl!" she surmised. "I think there's a spider on ya!"

Elie thought she could discern this "spider"'s legs were her fingers, but twitched and squirmed nonetheless. Fiona, more passionate and keen to admire the fine feminine physique, smoothed a palm over her torso. She emitted a low, single chuckle, signaling her own message to Eleanor, that, If anyone here's got your best interests at heart, my friend, it ain't me.

Jade, who especially disliked robbers and lawbreakers in general, clutched the bottom half of Elie's face in one hand. With the other, she slapped the vulnerable breast nearer her, and twisted her nipple, serving up Eleanor her first dose of pain. She was a rough person who liked rough sex, and a little agony mixed in with her pleasure. Raquel, on the other hand—or other leg, rather—liked Tiffy's spider idea. She simulated a second, playing about Elie's right thigh. Eleanor couldn't stand it. She broke out crying like a five-year-old girl.

"STOPPI-I-I-IT!" she wailed. "PLEE-E-E-EASE STOP!"

"'Stop'?" Sandy asked innocently, slinking her fingers between Elie's toes. "But we've only just gotten started!"

"No, bu—...I-I don't like lesbians!"

The crowd emitted a chorus of "Oooohhhh"s and "Uh-oh!"s amid cruel giggling. Above her, Eleanor heard the lebbis.

"Oh-ho-ho!" a first voice said. She felt more pokes, prods and goosebumps ride her flesh. "Is that a fact now?!"

"Did she just say she doesn't like us??" a second wanted to know.

"I think someone needs a little lesson in manners!" opined another. Elie realized what she had just said and how it had been interpreted. She computed she'd best try to make amends, and post-haste. She spoke up.

"Oh, no no no!" she cried. "I-I didn't mean that! I love le—...w—no, no, I mean, I like lesbians, it—well, not in that way, b—i-it's just..."

She paused, groping for words. The girls continued to tease her with more pinches and spiders. Eleanor struggled to get the rest out.

"...I-I just don't know you guys, that's all! I'm-I'm sure you're perfectly lovely, nice ladies, I'm just...straight! That's all! And-and not that I'd...rather have a bunch of dudes molesting me instead of you, it's...I-I mea—"

"Molesting?" Tiffy turned to ask Fiona. "Are we molesting her?"

"I don't think so," said Fiona. "We haven't really touched her in her special places yet, not very much at all."

"That's right, you little burgling bitch," added Jade, taking Eleanor by the hair. "We haven't begun to molest your cute little ass yet."

"Mmm, I've gotta agree on one thing," Raquel chimed in. She slipped a hand under Elie's tush, to palm her round, supple posterior. "This is a sweet little apple she's got down here."

Eleanor squeaked, trying to keep hold of herself. She was starting to see the full extent of her hostess Sandy's remark, that she'd broken into the wrong house. She didn't know why it took this long to sink in, but now she remembered all those kinky toys and paraphernalia she'd found in their bedroom. She guessed if she knew what was good for her, she would've tried to leave at that point, or never approached the residence in the first place. It was just that...she couldn't help it. She was a kleptomaniac. She was pretty certain they wouldn't believe her if she got the chance to explain. And even if they did believe her, she couldn't see them letting up or going easy on her. She was powerless. It looked as if she'd just have to suffer through whatever trials and tribulations they'd in store for her.

Not that this acceptance freaked her out any less. She'd never been tweaked, titillated and toyed with like this by another girl, let alone four. When she was little, her two-year-older sister Marie used to play-wrestle with her, pin down, torment and annoy her, but never inappropriately. At least she had that much; none of these four lesbians was related to her. She surmised, however, that perhaps she should've lied and said she was gay, if it meant being dominated by a group of guys instead. Despite what she'd just said, she saw herself enduring evil male taunting and roving male hands much more easily. But then, of course, this was obviously what made her straight. She'd broken into these people's house, for God's sake. What did she expect would happen? What she'd done wasn't only wrong, it was illegal. They weren't about to reward her for it. They were punishing her, plain and simple. As their womanhandling made Eleanor ever less comfy and more skeeved, for just a moment she honestly had to wonder how much worse being sent to prison would've been. She would probably have been forced to tolerate similar treatment, but...on this kind of scale? She paused to remind herself, though, that prison promised lots of additional hardships besides lesbian rape. And she supposed with this blindfold on, she could've pretended the lesbians were guys. But that wouldn't be easy with the constant verbal slights heaped on her.