How to Break a Man Pt. 04

As much as he appreciated that, Steven hesitated to enter. Something was gnawing at the back of his skull, this weird deja vu that he couldn't shake. Something was off-kilter, something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on the source.

He shrugged it off and stepped through the threshold, rubbing his shoulder as he passed. Whatever he was walking into, it couldn't be any worse than what he was leaving. "Thank you."

The door was closed behind him, and he took a moment to survey his surroundings. The place was sparser than he would've guessed, with the bare minimum of furniture lying around. No pictures on the walls, no family photos on the dressers, and the smell of cleaning fluids hung thick in the air, making the place feel fresh and new. They were either just moving in or about to move out of this place, and he was thankful he hadn't come by when they were in between and out.

"Here. Take this." Cynthia came to his side with a blanket and draped it across his back, as they led him into the kitchen. He welcomed the warmth and he wrapped it tight over his shoulder. He was still shuddering when he sat down at their table, but it was getting better as his body acclimated.

The smaller girl, Josie, made her way around the table, keeping him at a distance as she looked him over. He took the moment to do the same to her, seeing her slight, slim figure. She had a gymnast's body, a lithe figure without much muscle to speak of, the kind of form that was no stranger to a yoga mat. She looked about his age, too, not a day over thirty, and the tight, red, hip-hugging shorts she wore did wonders for showing off that waist of hers. The only mark he'd chalk up was that silly looking bleach-blond, boyish pixie haircut she had going on, cut way too short. A waste.

After a handful of awkward seconds, she found the courage to speak up. "Jesus, you're banged up all over." Steven followed the path of gaze, looked down at his chest, and yes, he was showing the damage. The last few days had been such a blur, he'd almost forgotten the bruises and scars he'd wracked up in such a short amount of time. A car wreck would've left him looking better. "What happened?"

Steven pulled the blanket in tight and exhaled, letting his breath catch up before he spoke. "Like I said," He shook his head. "This woman, your neighbor, she had me at her house, and she was beating me, and-" He cut himself off before he could get too worked up and sat back in the chair, looking between the two of them. "I'm sorry, look. Just call the police, please, I'll explain everything to them. Please."

The women exchanged glances, staring each other down with silent deliberation, before Cynthia nodded and stepped off to the side, heading towards the stairs. "I'll get my phone, just hang here. Josie, hook him up with something hot."

Josie had been busy wringing her hands, but now that she had something better to do with them, she went to work right away. "Something hot, right. We've got coffee and more coffee, how's that?"

Steven hated coffee, but fuck it, anything above freezing sounded good. "I'll take some." Josie moved over to the coffee maker, one of the appliances he'd seen since coming inside, and started it up to pour him a cup, giving him a great view of her backside as she did. A small comfort, but one he was happy to accept. "You, ah," He pointed a lazy finger to a few boxes off in the corner. "You just moved here?"

Josie looked over her shoulder, eyes shifting about, then centered on the boxes and had a slight jump, as if she'd never noticed them before. "Oh, uh, no. No." She whipped her head around back to the coffeemaker, keeping her face out of sight. "We're just renting the place out for a party, it's an AirBnB."

There was nervous titter to everything she said. Part of him couldn't blame her, the whole situation was off the wall. But part of him wondered if it was only that, and it only added to that niggling sensation from outside. He'd opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when his attention was drawn back above his head, hearing Cynthia's voice on the top floor. Whatever she was talking to the police about, the conversation had gotten heated enough to raise her voice, sounding tense.

Josie drew him back when she came over and sat the coffee down in front of him. "Thanks." He nodded her way, picked it up, and was on his way to a quick sip, when his focus was drawn to her waist, locking onto a tattoo on the side of her stomach. Her shorts covered half of it up, but it looked like one of those weird henna tattoos, this crazy, intricate floral pattern that probably cost far more to get than they were worth. He'd never cared much for tattoos on women, and he wouldn't have given it a second look most times.

This time, however, he did. He'd seen that tattoo before. He knew it. He tipped his head to the side, making sure he got the right angle and digging deep through the bargain bin area of his mind. "That tat." Steven scratched under his chin. "Where'd you get that? Looks familiar."

He'd locked in on the tattoo tight, so much so that he didn't notice Josie's change in expression until he glanced back up. Her eyes had narrowed into tight slits with her lip shut tight, with only the slightest quiver. She rolled her tongue about in her chin and kept that look settled on him, as if she were waiting for him to say something.

Steven couldn't guess what that was, though, and all he gave her in response was a light shrug. "What?"

"God, I can't believe you." Josie tilted forward and parted her lips, getting close, so close he could guess what she had for lunch. Some kind of fish. "You really, really don't remember me, do you?"

Steven shot up in the chair, full of questions, but a strong, thick black arm wrapped around his throat before he had the chance to ask any of them. He thrashed about, kicked the table and sent the coffee flying, as Cynthia, yanked her out of the chair and dragged him out of the kitchen. His hand went to her forearm and pulled at, but only found concentrated muscle pull at - she might not have been in the best shape, but she had some power to work with.

Josie watched the struggle from the kitchen, bouncing back and forth, keeping a safe distance back until Cynthia barked an order. "Jojo, fucking help!" She grunted the words more than she said them, speaking between exertions. "Get the rope, get the rope!"

Those words were enough to send Steven into overdrive. He didn't have a clue what the 100% story was, but he was already putting enough pieces to realize he would be in a deep well of shit if he didn't get out of this house. He gave up on fighting the hold - they weren't going anywhere, the grip was too tight. But that was far from the only thing he could do with free arms.

Steven dropped his arm and swung it around, aiming for her sides with his elbow, swinging away in a wild flurry. The first one hit too low, bouncing off her bulging stomach, but the second one hit her ribs, and the third, and the fourth, too. The big bitch didn't drop her grip right away, but it grew weaker each time, and it was little more than a light embrace when the fifth elbow dug into her bones.

Her arms came down and went to her sides, cradling them as she barreled over and retched. It made her face an easy target for the back of his fist, which he smacked her with as he whirled around. "Fucking bitch!" The blow hit with enough force to leave his fingers numb, but Cynthia took the worst of it, falling flat on her back with a crash that left the house rumbling.

He moved in, not wasting a second, and threw a kick in her aching sides to make sure she stayed down, but he'd only wound up for the next one when he heard footsteps rushing in from the side. He had time to see a rush of movement from his side before a pale, svelte arm wrapped around his throat. Two slenders legs clamped down on the sides of his stomach, pulling Josie in tight, while her spare hand threw a barrage of bashing blows in his face, jackhammering his eye with a fist full of ropes. "Get off her, fucking piece of shit!"

Steven stumbled back, struggling to keep his balance as this monkey of a woman clung to him. Her thighs were strong and slim, cutting into his body and making every labored breath he took that much harder, to say nothing of the vise on his neck. Between that and the mounting head trauma, he was already slipping away, his feet close to falling out from under him.

Steven fell, but he picked the best place to do it, staggering towards the stair, tipping over, coming down on them with Josie's body as a cushion. It still sucked, but judging by the shriek she made on impact, it sucked far worse on her end, with her thin body being sandwiched between his and the unforgiving wood. Her arms flew free of his neck and her legs slacked, making it easy for him to pull away.

And he did. For two seconds.

He caught sight of Cynthia, back on her feet and trudging towards them with tight fists at her side and a fierce snarl. He brought his own fists up, ready to meet her...until Josie's rope came over his neck from behind and yanked him back on the stairs. Steven's back fell into her lap, his hands went up to pull at the vise on his throat, and Cynthia came in hard, pouncing on the opportunity.

A stomp to the stomach kicked off the onslaught, one that would've knocked the wind out of him if he'd had any left, and she went to battering away at his chest. Wild, sloppy, heavy blows peppered his chest, but his hands were too busy with the noose around his neck to do anything about them.

Josie doubled down on her grip, digging the rope into his neck, and wrapped her thighs around his stomach to help keep him in place. Lack of air or blunt force trauma, one was knocking him out soon, and he went into pure panic mode to prevent both.

Steven reached up and behind with one, desperate hand, and found Josie's face with his fumbling fingers. That wasn't the target, though - instead, he went higher and got a tight grip on that silly haircut of hers, clamping down on her short hairs and filling his palm with them. The shrill scream she made when he snatched it down was enough to make his ears ring, but that was a price worth paying.

He pulled Josie's face forward, making her lean over just enough for him to pop her in the face with his free hand. Not much, but enough to stun her, make her drop the rope to grasp her face, and give Steven a precious moment of freedom. He used it to surge forward as Cynthia readied another feral punch, tackling her in the chest and bringing them down for a rough crash on the hardwood floor.

The door.

They landed only a few feet from the entrance and came to a sliding stop, with enough momentum to make Steve roll off her and to the side. She stayed on her back, eyes screwed shut while she dealt with the pain, but he couldn't say he was much better. Adrenaline had brought him far, but it was all wearing off now, all the damage he'd taken over the past week coming down on him. Sweat, blood, bruises and cuts...

Get to the door. Get out.

Steven pushed his way up and scrambled forward with all the grace of a scalded dog, making a mad rush towards the door. If he could just get out, get away, there had to be other houses around here, maybe someone who'd hear him scream, maybe-

Cynthia wrapped her arm around his ankle, that same fucking arm again, anchoring him and pulled him back. He rolled over to his back and kicked at her with the other leg, but she just caught that one in her grasp, too, and worked her way up his body. She had the weight on him, would've been a hard wrestle if he was in the best of shape, and he was miles away from that.

He scrambled back on his palms, she moved up to his thighs.

He tried to kick his way free, she pressed down on his legs.

She made his way up to his chest and he lashed out, trying to push her off, make some space, slow her down, anything. Cynthia was trying to pin his wrists to the floor, but he flailed, fouling up every attempt.

So she gave up on the idea. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, brought her chest down, and pulled his face deep in her dusky, enveloping chest.

Steven thought it was an accident at first, a random attempt to hold him down, but then he tried to breathe...and failed. And tried again...and failed. Her breasts covered his face up to the eyes, only letting in the occasional sliver of light while he bucked about. No air, nothing, and he was running out of his reserves.

Smothering. The fucking bitch was trying to knock him out with her tits.

The thought alone was enough to fuel his escape efforts, sending him into a mad, beserk, thrashing fit beneath Cynthia's bulk. He kicked his legs, pressed them against the floor, arched his back, but all that did was steal him a few gulps of air. She rode down his struggles, meeting him wherever he turned, and that was far from the only problem.

Thin fingers gripped his ankles and ropes wrapped around them soon after, as Josie came back in and tried to ensnare him from the bottom up. It was all he could do to whip his legs around in a wild flurry and slow her down. "Keep him still, fuck!"

"I'm trying to-" Cynthia's protests were cut off when he threw a sloppy punch in her sides. "I'm trying, hurry it up!"

Resisting them was harder, resisting them with a draining air supply was harder, and when Josie swung around to sit on his knees and focus on her task, it all turned impossible. Cynthia pulled his legs up letting all her weight come down on his upper body, and pulled his face deep within her cleavage for the full smother. Steven turned his head left and right, searching for the smallest wisp of air, but only found more overwhelming curves instead. Every attempt cost more precious energy, sapped more strength, and brought him closer to a familiar unconsciousness.

His raging roars turned to muffled moans as the two worked him over. Josie tied up one ankle, then the other, and bound them together, pulling them tight before she moved on. She got off his legs, but didn't leave him alone for long - only a few seconds passed before he felt her grip on his wrists, repeating the process above.

Josie didn't have the strength to hold down Steven's arms alone, having a rough time of it even in his weakened state. She needed help, which forced Cynthia to lift up and free his face. He took in huge gulps of air to fill his lungs back up and come back from the edge.

A small reprieve, and it came with a price. The two captors worked together now, putting all their effort in wrapping him up. Cynthia kept his arms on the floor and minimized the wriggling, while Josie circled and looped and pulled tight on the rope, trapping him with a series of deft moves. It wasn't too far off from what he'd seen Diana use on him, time and again over the past week.

Not a good sign.

With him still and helpless, Cynthia pushed her way off and stood over him while Josie stayed by his side and finished off the ropework. She gave him a petty kick on the chest with an aggravated huff, then stepped away, rubbing her back as she moved towards the stairs. "I'll call Diana back and let her know what happened. Are you okay with him by yourself?"

Josie was still breathing heavy, sounding like she'd just run a hard mile, but she swallowed deep and managed to crank out a few words. "Yeah," She dropped her knee on his chest and pressed down with her full weight. She couldn't have been a pound over 120, but even that was more than he could budge. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Go, I've got him."

Cynthia gave them both a cautious, curious stare, before she skipped back up the stairs and gave them some privacy. "Josie, Josie, listen, look." His words came out in a stammered mess, as he tried to cobble together a half decent plea. "Whatever this is, you don't have to do this, I'll pay you, just let me, just let me-"

Josie brought her hand down and slapped it over his mouth, pressing down and ending his protests. "You want me to do something for you? You've got the nerve to ask for anything after what you did to me?"

Steven twisted his head about, fighting for air, until she gave up on holding him back and lifted her hand up. "What? I didn't do anything to you! I don't even fucking know you."

That earned him a sharp, stinging slap on the back of his cheek, leaving it numb after the impact. He blinked a few times to clear his hazy vision, before she gripped his jaw and forced him to look her way. "Three years ago. Billie's Steakhouse and Bar. Bachelor party for your little prick friend, Aaron."

Steven's chest rose and fell with a steadier rhythm as he digested her words, matching them up with his memories. He did remember Aaron's bachelor party - well, most of it, he'd been sauced that night. The strippers stood out more than anything, especially the one he'd hooked up with. Skinny thing, great legs, and this little tattoo on her side...

He drew in a sharp gasp as it all hit at once. "You."

"Yeah. Me."

Another slap, opposite cheek, this time with the back of her hand. "Took you that long to put it together, huh? Funny thing is, I don't remember much about that night, either." Her hand went to his throat now, pressing down with this tight grasp. She wasn't that strong, but you didn't need much power to do real damage in that area, and her thin fingers made it even worse. Her grip grew tighter and her fingernails dug into his skin like dulled daggers, threatening to cut.

Steven brought his bound hands down to fight her grip, but that just prompted her to move over and bring her other hand in, doubling down on the choke. She moved over, straddling him, and put all of her weight down to deny him the slightest slip of air. He opened his mouth and gagged like a fish out of water, with his tongue wagging about and his eyes bulging. Kicking, shaking, shuddering as life fled from his body, speeding him towards unconsciousness.

Josie watched. And smiled.