Nickles and Dimes Ch. 10

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.

*****

The floor creaked softly.

We both sat back as we were lifting the floor safe from its hiding place. It was a very slight noise or was it a vibration in the flooring. The house was supposed to be vacant for the next week. I turned toward the noise.

It continued, resolving into soft footsteps heading in our direction. We closed the safe and replaced the rug then both of us hugged the wall behind where the door would open, guns drawn. With no bullets in our guns, they would only serve to frighten. We always knew we were in big trouble if anyone ever called our bluff.

The door opened slowly. Since no lights had been turned on, it seemed clear that we weren't the only burglars in town, a thought which in and of itself indicated trouble for our plans.

Two of them. They opened the door only partially allowing us to watch them entering the room. They crept into the room in an actual crouch, knees bent, shoulders rounded. They carried nothing and their tight fitting black clothes didn't seem to leave anywhere to hide anything. From the form of the bodies encased in the tight outfits it was clear that one was male, the other female. He was some taller than she, but not hefty. She, on the other hand, seemed rather well-endowed. There was nothing in their behavior that indicated that they thought the room might already be occupied.

I began to think this could be interesting as I watched the female's cute ass move into the room. Rick slammed the door. "Hold it right there. I'd rather not have to kill you." As they swung around we both leveled our guns at them. They stopped and raised their hands. Their entire bodies trembled. With their arms aloft the material of their body suits was drawn tightly across their bodies providing an even more tantalizing look at the young woman's body.

"Oh no, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh no. You said this would be easy. That there wouldn't be anyone here." She was screaming at her partner through her black ski mask though she kept her arms raised. He shied away from her, but said nothing.

"You," commanded Sandy, "put your hands behind your back." They both obeyed. They seemed to be real amateurs. Sandy handed his gun to me and moved behind the guy to bind his hands with the zip strips we carried for these occasions. "On your knees," he told the guy pushing down on his shoulders. The guy complied. Sandy pulled off the man's ski mask, found a sock in a bedroom drawer, and used it to gag him holding it in place with another zip strip.

He did his patented number of using zip strips to hobble the guy. One strip around each ankle with two in loops like chain links between his ankles. He'd be able to walk, but with difficulty.

He did the same with the girl. The sock quieted her. It was really good to have her shut up since she was carping all the time about her burglar buddy's poor planning. In between screaming at him, she screamed at us coming up with every description that could be used to humiliate a man. Really ugly, unfeminine behavior, I thought. Her talking and screaming stopped once the sock was in her mouth. If I'd had bullets in the gun, I'd shoot her, I thought. Through all of this, I reflected, all her partner had said was an occasional "Be quiet, Marion" and "I'm sorry". He never looked at her.

Nonetheless, when Sandy pulled off the ski mask, a beautiful head of auburn hair fell to her shoulders. Her face, though contorted in anger and fear, was very attractive even in the low light of the room.

"Take a look in the basement. See if it has support columns," I suggested. Sandy knew exactly what I was thinking. He nodded and left to look for a doorway to the basement.

I could hear Sandy moving throughout the house, then on a staircase. He returned. "Yup."

"Let's search them to make sure there's nothing we should know about."

"Yeah, right," Sandy agreed kneeling behind the guy. He began to pat him down. From the waistband of his leotard he extracted a piece of paper. Then he helped the intruder stand. "You gonna shoot him if he does something while I pat down his crotch?"

"I'd rather not," I replied thinking of the bloody mess such a shot would create, even if we could shoot. I pushed Sandy's pistol in my waistband. Picking up a walking stick from what was apparently the owner's collection of walking sticks, I said, "I'll just beat him with this stick. Less noise."

The body language, and his wide eyes indicated that our victim would cooperate. "Spread your legs as far as you can," Sandy commanded. The guy obeyed watching the stick fearfully. Sandy patted down the guy's crotch and butt distastefully. "Seems clean," he said standing.

He got the girl to her feet. From behind her gag a torrent of gurgling surged. "Honey, you did this to yourself. Don't give me any of your crap. I'm really not in the mood for it. The crap continued though neither of us could make out what she was saying.

His face impassive, Sandy began to search the girl. The intensity of her gurgling increased. A sharp crack and snap of her head stopped her cold. She dropped to one knee. "Get up," Sandy said pulling her upright. "I can hit harder than that."

Tears began to stream down her face. She stood still as he ran his hands through her hair. When he finished, he said to her pointedly, "Now I'm going to feel you up. I'm going to feel your tits to be sure you don't have a pistol or knife hidden there. You got that?" She nodded.

He did as he said taking much more time than necessary to examine each breast through her black Lycra. Even through the Lycra, I could see he thoroughly enjoyed her soft breasts. He continued downward. "Spread your legs." She did. I noted her reaction as Sandy ran his hands across her butt. She remained still the entire time even as he closely examined her crotch. After he'd finished, he said, "Didn't find anything, except this paper. Can't read it in this light. There may be more light in the basement."

"OK. Let's go," I said herding them from the room. The muzzle of the gun directing them was sufficient to get them to go where I wanted.

They shuffled along as Sandy led us to the basement stairs. "Walk slowly or you're liable to fall," he counseled them. At the stairway, Sandy said, "Grab the hand rail with your hands, then slowly, taking one stair at a time, walk down. If you fall, you'll bang your head on the concrete. We won't be calling an ambulance for you."

With their backs to the hand rail, hanging on tightly, they made their way down the stairs. The loops holding their legs together barely extended sufficiently to allow them to walk down the steps. Slowly taking one step at a time, they made the trip without incident.

Sandy had turned on several low lights in what appeared to be a typical basement featuring work tables for the guy and a laundry area for the gal.

Sandy had each of them back up to a support column. He fastened the guy to one, feeding more zip strips through the strips binding his hands and then around the post. He did the same with his feet. For good measure he fed a long one around his neck and the column. Fear filled the burglar's eyes as the zip strip applied pressure on his windpipe.

"You thinking what I'm thinking about this bitch," Sandy asked Rick.

"Yup."

Sandy cut the ties holding the girl's hands together. She looked confused and scared.

"Open his shirt and push it off his shoulders," Sandy told her motioning to her burglar partner. She hesitated. Sandy wound up as though to slap her again. She ducked almost losing her balance, then hobbled to her restrained partner. She unbuttoned his Lycra top and pushed it off his shoulders. Sandy cut his undershirt off. "You gonna use that walking stick or something else," Sandy asked me.

"We'll see how cooperative the girl is," I replied.

Sandy looked cruelly at the girl. "Up to you," he said. "Drop his pants."

The girl, looking as terrified as either of the trucking partners had ever seen, pulled on the pants with shaking hands. They ended up around his ankles just above the concrete floor. "Finish up," I ordered striking the burglar's groin lightly with the stick. The burglar jumped and gagged as the zip tie at his neck bit in.

Still horrified the girl pulled the black briefs to his ankles. She looked away as she performed her assignment. The package revealed was shrunken almost to nonexistence. Nonetheless, he jumped when Rick's stick found his balls.

"That's a really tiny cock," I commented sarcastically. "So after everything you called us, this is the cock that makes you happy," I couldn't help but have a bit of fun taunting her.

She shook her head vehemently. After she said it several times, they finally realized that she was saying, "That's my brother."

"That's new, a brother and sister burglary team. An inept one at that." We both chuckled. "So which one is older," I asked the girl. She nodded her head in the direction of the other burglar. "Hold up a finger to tell me how much younger you he is. She turned and held up the middle fingers on both hands. "Are you telling me that you're two years younger than he is or are you telling me that you want me to break both of your middle fingers?"

She cringed and held up two fingers on the same hand. She looked remorseful for the first time. "Ever showed him your tits?" She shook her head vigorously. "Your pussy?" Her reaction was even more vehement. "Bet he's been wanting to see 'em. You look like a girl with a nice rack." She looked terrified.

"Nobody's coming back to his house for some time. I think we have plenty of time to show him that nice rack of yours. What do you think?

I was giving her back some of what she'd been giving Sandy and me. Besides, I thought, I'd like to see them myself.

She backed into a pole as she tried to back away. "Ow," could be heard through her gag.

"Take off that suit you're wearing," I was starting to get even more pissed at the girl. She shook her head even as she cringed more. A loud groan came from her brother as the walking stick found his balls. The painful groans continued as the girl began to pull off the Lycra suit she was wearing. She took way too much time. To speed up the process I landed another blow on her brother's balls.

The groans which had died down somewhat started afresh following a loud smacking sound. This time the groans were accompanied by tears. She pulled the top half of the Lycra outfit over her head. There was nothing underneath.

"Indeed, a very nice rack," Sandy said admiringly. He took hold of one only to have her twist away. A smack and a loud howl convinced the girl to turn back and allow herself to be touched. "Almost more here than one guy can handle," he said as he handled her pulling at her nipples, rolling them between his fingers. Her nipples, already large and dark red expanded even more as he handled them. Though they were hard to see in the low light still he could feel them harden.

"Got some freckles here," he said as he played with her breasts. "Go on over to your brother there and put one of these fine titties in each of his hands."

Reluctantly she did as she was told. The burglar's fingers felt her hard nipples and toyed with them as she crouched behind him. His cock began to respond. "I think he likes that," Sandy said.

"Marion? That your name, Marion," Sandy asked. She nodded. "Marion, let's let him see even more. Come around here and take that suit all the way off." She moved in front of her brother. She stole a look at his cock which had increased substantially in size. Without further coaxing she took off her shoes. Her pants dropped. She followed them with her panties. Her brother's cock was just short of hard.

She was lusciously bald. The mound of her pussy was nicely swollen accenting it's slit.

"Have him put his hands on your pussy." Sandy was getting into the brother-sister thing. She went behind her brother and put his hand on her pussy. "Stick a finger inside," Sandy told her as he watched. She took the extended index finger and worked in inside. As the finger was inserted the cock immediately became hard.

"Oh, man, now look what you've done," Sandy pulled her around. Her eyes went wide when she saw her brother's hard cock. "I think now that you've gotten him all hot, you need to get him off." She again with what voice she could muster and a rapid shaking of her head nixed the idea.

"Kneel," Sandy ordered. He pinched a nipple. She yelped and dropped to her knees. Sandy cut the strip holding her gag in place. "Go on, you know what to do."

She took his cock delicately between thumb and forefinger. She leaned toward him opening her mouth narrowly. The tip touched her lips. She recoiled. The stick struck her lightly on the head. She ducked dropping her hold on the cock. She returned to the task, however, and opened wider until the cock could be inserted. "Go on, we want to see his cum running from your mouth."

"Please," she said having pulled it out. The walking stick again. Not hard.

She went back to work, distaste showing. Sandy and I watched as she gave her brother the first blow job between them. She worked for some time before a groan escaped him, one of pleasure this time. Another groan and he filled her mouth. Expecting the coming flood, Sandy held the girl's head against her brother's groin until it was apparent that he was finished. Cum streamed from her mouth. She gagged and coughed then headed for the laundry tub where she rinsed her mouth.

"Lie down," I said, "I can't wait any longer."

She'd known this was coming. Before lying on the cold concrete floor though, she cobbled together a mattress of sorts using clothing and blankets she found in the laundry area. Then she obediently lay down spreading her legs. "Don't hurt me," she pleaded.

By now she was really wet. I pulled on a condom and took my time. I was about there when Sandy began. "Come on," he said, "I'm about to cum in my pants.

To keep my partner happy I took only a few minutes more before turning the frightened girl over to him. It seemed to me when we both had finished with her that she was much less frightened, but I may have been wrong.

We had them pick up their clothing and the other debris of our encounter which they carried out to their truck. We secured them in their truck. While I was more concerned with the intruders, Sandy had gone back to the stash and cleaned out the safe.

We drove, Sandy in our car and me in their truck, to an area which showed up on our maps as pretty much in the weeds.

I took their clothes and put them in our car along with all the other identification I could find from the truck. I did leave them their license plates.

I attached one of our heaters to the zip strips on the girl's hands explaining that in thirty minutes it would ignite and burn through her zip strips. Moving, I emphasized, might dislodge it leaving her with no way to get loose. I provided a knife which I told her would be about a hundred yards down the road. This she could use to knife her brother or to cut through his zip strips. Her choice.

Sandy and I drove off fairly certain that two naked individuals without identification would be unlikely to do anything to attract the police. We had at least a thirty minute head start.

As expected, we never heard from them again. We took the stash to Ilysa who we knew would do her investment magic. We had never bothered to count it though it was rather heavy.