Fake plumber
She thought he was the plumber but in fact he was a burglar who dominated her by tying her to a chair, gagging her to avoid asking for help. Now the burglar emptied her house and left her bound and gagged like a damsels in distress of the movies she likes to watch so much.
Marina sat cross-legged on her plush, white carpet, her eyes glued to the latest episode of "Damsels in Distress: The Movie Marathon." The satin fabric of her blouse shimmered in the glow of the muted TV screen, a stark contrast to the mundane, yet comforting, beige walls of her living room. Her miniskirt had ridden up slightly, revealing the tops of her black fishnet pantyhose, and she tugged at it absentmindedly, lost in the world of daring escapes and unexpected heroics. A soft snack of popcorn crunched between her teeth as she watched a particularly intense scene unfold, her heart racing in sync with the heroine's.
The doorbell chimed, jolting her out of her cinematic trance. She paused the film and glanced at the clock. It was a quarter past seven. She had forgotten to cancel the plumbing appointment she'd scheduled weeks ago. Sighing, she slid her legs out from under her and stood, smoothing down her skirt and straightening her blouse. She padded over to the door in her knee-high boots, the sound of her heels echoing through the quiet house.
Marina peered through the peephole, expecting to see a uniformed figure with a toolbox, but instead, she found a man in a black hoodie and a pair of worn-out jeans. He had a tool belt slung over one shoulder, but something about him seemed... off. The hood cast a shadow over his face, hiding his features, and his posture was too relaxed to be a professional. She frowned, her hand hovering over the door knob.
"Plumbing service," a gruff voice called from the other side.
Marina hesitated. She wasn't expecting anyone from the company to look like this, but she had been distracted lately. She unlocked the door and cracked it open, peering out suspiciously. "I didn't call for a service today," she began, but before she could finish, the man pushed the door open wider, barging in.
"Don't worry, I've got the right place," he said, his tone coarse and unyielding. His eyes raked over her, taking in her attire and the state of her home with a cold, calculating gaze. "Looks like you've got more than just plumbing issues."
Marina's heart skipped a beat. She didn't know why, but she felt a sudden chill run down her spine. She took a step back, her hand tightening around the doorknob. "I think you should leave," she said firmly, trying to keep her voice steady.
The man didn't budge. "I've got a job to do," he said, stepping closer. "And it's not what you think." His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist, and before she could react, he had spun her around and pinned her against the wall. Panic surged through her as she saw the ropes and pieces of fabric in his other hand. "Let's not make this messier than it needs to be," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and rank.
Her mind raced as he secured her wrists behind her back with the ropes, the rough fibers biting into her skin. She squirmed, trying to break free, but his grip was like iron. "What do you want?" she whimpered, her voice muffled by the sudden presence of a gag in her mouth. He tightened it until she could only make muted noises.
The burglar's eyes gleamed with malicious excitement as he surveyed his work. He took a step back, admiring the way she struggled against her bindings. "You're going to be the star of your own little movie," he chuckled, his voice low and menacing. He blindfolded her with a piece of cloth, cutting off her visual world. The sudden darkness heightened her other senses, making the sound of his footsteps echo eerily through the house as he set to work.
Marina's thoughts swirled in a vortex of fear and confusion. The plumbing ruse had been a clever trick, and she had fallen for it. Now she was helpless, at the mercy of this intruder. She heard the jingle of his tool belt as he moved from room to room, the sounds of drawers opening and closing, the thump of objects being tossed around.
The minutes ticked by like hours, each one more unbearable than the last. The smell of her own fear mixed with the faint scent of his sweat and grease. She strained her ears, listening for any sign of her neighbor, a car door slamming, the distant wail of a siren. But all she heard was the relentless march of the burglar as he emptied her house of its valuables.
The doorbell chimed, jolting her out of her cinematic trance. She paused the film and glanced at the clock. It was a quarter past seven. She had forgotten to cancel the plumbing appointment she'd scheduled weeks ago. Sighing, she slid her legs out from under her and stood, smoothing down her skirt and straightening her blouse. She padded over to the door in her knee-high boots, the sound of her heels echoing through the quiet house.
Marina peered through the peephole, expecting to see a uniformed figure with a toolbox, but instead, she found a man in a black hoodie and a pair of worn-out jeans. He had a tool belt slung over one shoulder, but something about him seemed... off. The hood cast a shadow over his face, hiding his features, and his posture was too relaxed to be a professional. She frowned, her hand hovering over the door knob.
"Plumbing service," a gruff voice called from the other side.
Marina hesitated. She wasn't expecting anyone from the company to look like this, but she had been distracted lately. She unlocked the door and cracked it open, peering out suspiciously. "I didn't call for a service today," she began, but before she could finish, the man pushed the door open wider, barging in.
"Don't worry, I've got the right place," he said, his tone coarse and unyielding. His eyes raked over her, taking in her attire and the state of her home with a cold, calculating gaze. "Looks like you've got more than just plumbing issues."
Marina's heart skipped a beat. She didn't know why, but she felt a sudden chill run down her spine. She took a step back, her hand tightening around the doorknob. "I think you should leave," she said firmly, trying to keep her voice steady.
The man didn't budge. "I've got a job to do," he said, stepping closer. "And it's not what you think." His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist, and before she could react, he had spun her around and pinned her against the wall. Panic surged through her as she saw the ropes and pieces of fabric in his other hand. "Let's not make this messier than it needs to be," he whispered into her ear, his breath hot and rank.
Her mind raced as he secured her wrists behind her back with the ropes, the rough fibers biting into her skin. She squirmed, trying to break free, but his grip was like iron. "What do you want?" she whimpered, her voice muffled by the sudden presence of a gag in her mouth. He tightened it until she could only make muted noises.
The burglar's eyes gleamed with malicious excitement as he surveyed his work. He took a step back, admiring the way she struggled against her bindings. "You're going to be the star of your own little movie," he chuckled, his voice low and menacing. He blindfolded her with a piece of cloth, cutting off her visual world. The sudden darkness heightened her other senses, making the sound of his footsteps echo eerily through the house as he set to work.
Marina's thoughts swirled in a vortex of fear and confusion. The plumbing ruse had been a clever trick, and she had fallen for it. Now she was helpless, at the mercy of this intruder. She heard the jingle of his tool belt as he moved from room to room, the sounds of drawers opening and closing, the thump of objects being tossed around.
The minutes ticked by like hours, each one more unbearable than the last. The smell of her own fear mixed with the faint scent of his sweat and grease. She strained her ears, listening for any sign of her neighbor, a car door slamming, the distant wail of a siren. But all she heard was the relentless march of the burglar as he emptied her house of its valuables.
