Sex and the Modern Psycho

"One plus one equals?" The gentle but stern voice of a woman filled the school hallways as usual on a normal week day afternoon. The air conditioning wasn't low enough for Abigail's taste, and she was the only one who kept her door open during class sessions. I mean, sweet Jesus, how could turning it down a couple of degrees hurt anyone? It might hurt the profit of the school board, but it would make children a lot more happy with school, that's for sure. She had already seen two students nearly pass out from dehydration. Was the world so damn greedy that they would put profit over the well being of little kids?

"Two!" The class answered back in unison, followed by a few more replies and laughter. "That's easy!", "Stop joking teacher!", "This isn't math class!"

The buxom blonde haired woman chuckled, her pale blue eyes lighting up with amusement. She loved teaching this age group of kids because they were all willing to learn, so innocent, and very spirited. She reached down for her wired frame glasses and then picked up her study book. "Alright, alright. I know how hot it is and all of you look so sad. I just wanted to see some smiles." She recited her lesson and the class looked at her with interest. She was a very animated teacher, and when she told stories, she added depth and characterization to her words. Teaching children was the only thing that made her happy. At least in the day time. After the bell rung, signaling the end of a school day and a Friday, she yelled "No homework!", and that was followed by cheers as the students piled out of the classroom. Sighing, she picked up a local news paper with an article circled.

"Good thing I taped Daytime news. I'm going to get this son of a bitch who thinks he can take credit for my art." She growled, and then gathered her things and vacated the room, leaving the door open for the janitor to clean up. She made her way to her '98 still shiny black Volvo and drove off to her apartment. Her lips were pressed in a tight line and her eyes were very focused and determined. She was going to get this guy tonight. After a dreadful twenty minutes, she arrived at her home, and she quickly jumped out of her car. She pretty much busted into her apartment after jiggling that damn lock. She'd have to murder her land lord one of these days for not getting his lazy ass up and fixing her goddamn door.

Throwing her purse and suitcase containing her schoolwork on the ground, she slammed the door with her foot and then grabbed the scrunchie in her hair and yanked it out, allowing the curtain of blonde to fall to her shoulders. She then grabbed her glasses and yanked them off, forgetting to do so before she left school. "Fuck me!" She shouted, storming into the living room and slamming the TV button over and over until it came on. She then threw it on the couch with enough force for it to bounce over the edge and on the floor, and grabbed her DVR remote. Finding what she wanted to see, she sat down on the couch and placed both hands underneath her chin and stared at the screen until the story she wanted to see was played.

Rewinding it over and over, she studied the video until she finally came to a conclusion of where he would strike next. She was not going to miss him this time. Because if she did, it would be her turn for tag...and she didn't want him taking any more credit for a murder she committed. She was getting tired of this pissing contest as well. She got up and then unzipped her summer dress and let it fall to her ankles, leaving her completely nude. Her D cupped breasts did not fucking agree with bras and panties were pointless with a dress that was to her knees. Walking to her bathroom, she turned on the shower and then stepped in it before it even became hot and contemplated her plan for tonight. It would be suspicious if she stood there all day, but heading to the would be scene five minutes earlier wasn't working. She decided on a stake out.

As they approached the house, he pursed his lips gently. Another coked up asshole holding a gun to the heads of his wife and kid, demanding shit that he knows he's not going to get, waited inside. It never failed to amaze him, how these jackasses never seemed to understand just how little power they had in these situations. Did he really think a sniper would hesitate to put a bullet through his thick ass skull as soon as he got a clear shot? Fucking morons, all of them. Rolling his eyes, he pushed himself up against the side of the house, bringing the .45 in his hands up next to his head as he peered through the window. He could see the outlines inside, but it was hard to distinguish who was who, making it unsafe to take a shot from here. And the damn sniper hadn't given any indication that he had a clear shot yet.

With a sigh, he spun back around the corner, making his way to the other side of the house, ducking under the windows to keep out of sight. Out front, the negotiator was busy spouting off whatever he could to keep the situation under control, trying his best to stall the moron inside waving a .22 revolver around like it made him the big man on campus. Getting into a better position on the other side of the house, he moved into a better position, waiting for an opening to make his move. As the man inside continued to wave the gun around and make his demands, the one outside saw his chance when the guy started yelling out the front door, hiding behind it to keep himself out of the line of fire, but he hadn't considered the windows across the room...

It all happened so quickly that most people didn't even realize it until several seconds later. One moment the guy was making demands, and had leveled the gun at his wife's head as if he was about to shoot. The best part was, the asshole had looked up, right into his eyes, just in time to see the muzzle flare, the shattered glass, then nothing as the bullet planted itself firmly between his eyes. In a split second, it was over. In a split second, they had gone from hostage situation to frantic relief, the wife breaking down into tears, pulling her daughter close while her cokehead husband laid on the floor, half of his brains plastered to the door he had been hiding behind, the rest leaking out onto floor as his corpse grew colder by the second.

Holstering his pistol, Caleb Randall simply smiled. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as the way he did it while working his other 'job', where the scum who used their financial influence to manipulate the system got to look him directly in the eyes as they bled out from a slit throat, or some other equally horrifying death. It was up-close and personal, and felt so much better, knowing that those bastards realized in their last breaths that justice had caught up to them. Right now, though, he had to step around the house to wrap this up. As soon as he came into view, the other S.W.A.T. officers began to cheer. The wife and daughter were already being escorted outside and led to the ambulance, the reporters were starting to swarm, it was chaos, but the kind he liked. The chaos that ensued after a crisis had been averted.

After answering a few questions, he managed to slip away from the reporters, who had been there covering the situation as it had happened. This would make the evening news, but it wasn't like a bank robbery, where it would be the top story or anything. Once he was in the van and heading back to the station, Caleb started to unfasten his vest and remove it with a sigh, accepting pats on the back from his teammates and giving them the occasional smile and nod. He knew he would have to go through a hefty Q&A session with the Captain, and had a shitload of paperwork to do, but it would all be better in a few hours.

_________________________

As he stepped out of the station, now dressed in his civilian clothes, Caleb took out the keys and disabled the alarm to the 2010 Camaro SS that sat in the parking lot, silver with black racing stripes. Climbing into the car, he started the engine, closed the door, put on his seatbelt, and was soon heading home. He had a lot to prepare for, and little time to do it. Tonight was the night he would meet the asshole that had been taking credit for his work, face to face, and they were going to have a little talk that probably would end with a knife in someone's throat. He didn't mind at all. He made sure the clue he left at the scene of his last victim would be easy enough to figure out for the other killer, as only someone as twisted as he was could ever figure it out.

Pulling up to his apartment building, he stepped out of the car, pausing to raise a hand, running it through his short, dark brown hair, that was just long enough to grab a decent handful. A pair of deep, steely blue eyes surveyed the building before he made his way inside and to the elevator. Soon he was stepping out and walking to his apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Within minutes he had stripped his clothes off and was in the shower, taking the time to bathe his medium built, tightly muscled body carefully, wanting to look his best when he slit the throat of both his next victim and the wannabe that was riding on his hard work.

As night fell, Caleb relaxed, watching a bit of TV until it was time. Just a little before 7:30 PM, he was out the door and on his way to the parking garage where he kept his other vehicle, the one that wasn't quite legal, and couldn't be traced back to an owner. It was a late 90's model Ford Taurus, plain looking with no identifying marks to be found. Something that didn't grab attention. Climbing into the car, he grinned a bit to himself, now dressed completely in black, similar to his S.W.A.T. uniform, but without the logos of the police department. And he didn't carry any guns. When on this 'job', he preferred blades, as they proved to be much more satisfying. Soon he was on the road, heading out for a date with destiny...

Abigail had been laying on her bed nude, face up, watching the projected time on the ceiling for the past four hours. For four hours, she imagined stabbing this fraud, or perhaps burning him alive. Or beating his head in. If she stabbed him, it would have to be in one blow. People could still move when stabbed once. If she burned him alive that would cause a lot of screaming and she doubted that she could capture him and do it. Beating his head in seemed to be the logical choice, but that required a preemptive strike.

There was also that 9mm gun. It was so impersonal though. And if she missed she'd be screwed. Not that she was a bad shot or anything, it was just that she fucking hated aiming in the dark. She'd take it anyway. In fact, she'd be taking her knife, a gun, and a few needles filled with tranquilizers just in case she found the opportunity to use them. If there was anything blunt nearby, she'd probably be using that as well. Suddenly she saw the digital numbers on the ceiling turn into what she was waiting for. 7:00 PM. She was sure this was an hour and a half or two hours earlier than what the time the clues said.

She sat up immediately and then went to the bathroom, brushing her teeth, putting on new eye liner and mascara, and then a little perfume. She pulled her hair back into a low pony tail, leaving her bangs to hang just below her eye brows instead of pinning it back like she did in school. Then she put on her reddest lipstick and went back into her walk in closet. She had already picked out an outfit for tonight. It was a black sweater dress that hung loosely on her, but she needed something that wasn't tight so that she could hide her weapons effectively. After slipping into the dress, she hooked her waist holsters around her shapely things and attached her gun and a few magazines to it, followed by the knife.

The last thing was a pair of flat boots. They were simple enough to run in and were stylish as well. She took her keys and grabbed her jet black helmet and walked out of her apartment. Going to the parking lot, she walked to her yellow Vespa GTS 300 complete with a fake tag and started it. She smiled when it purred to life and then headed off to her destination. Arriving there at exactly 7:45, she parked the Moped a few blocks away and began to lurk the area.

Having parked a couple of blocks down, Caleb put enough change in the parking meter he left the car at to cover it for a few hours. He really didn't need but one hour, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. As he slipped through the alleys, he looked upon his target. The Domino Club was two stories, and the one he wanted would be in the back rooms of the second floor. It wasn't really a problem for him. Normally he would be approaching this differently, charming his way into the club, getting close to one of the girls that frequently were known to hang around Geno Scaglioni, one of the big money guys for the Italian mafia in the city. He had managed to get off on three separate counts of murder due to witnesses withdrawing or dying mysteriously. Tonight that pattern ended.

Rather than go with his normal approach, Caleb was choosing the stealth route tonight, because this was a special night. Tonight he wouldn't just be taking out a target, but would be dancing with a new partner. Tonight he was going to meet his copycat...and put him down like a dog. Disappearing into an alleyway, he managed to slip around to the back of the club, foolishly left unguarded. These mafia types really were arrogant jackasses, and because of that arrogance they made mistakes. If you put all your security at the front door, you leave your back wide open. It was a rule that guys in prison were very familiar with. Always cover your rear.

After a fairly easy climb, given the handholds these older buildings offered, he was on the second floor catwalk within minutes. Only a few minutes after that, he was climbing in through a window that had a sorry excuse for an alarm, and waiting in the very office that his target would soon be making his way to. It was the only place one ever found Geno without his bodyguards, though he did enjoy bringing his dates in there to show off his fancy bed that folded into the wall. It was always kind of fun to kill them in front of a date, though he knew if a girl came back with his target he had to hide his face...or kill her too, and he usually preferred not to kill innocents.

Taking out the mask he had stuffed into a pouch on his side, Caleb pulled it on and slipped into his hiding spot, getting into the closet full of Geno's suits and managing to pull them around him to cover his presence. He was good at things like that. Geno would likely open the door and look him right in the eyes and never even know it until he was bleeding from the throat when he went to grab a change of clothes...

After lurking about for a few minutes, Abigail took off her helmet and then managed to slip past the guards without an invite after a few minutes of intense flirting. Successfully infiltrating the place was the easy part. Now the other easy part began. She made her way to Scaglioni's table that was filled up with all sorts of beautiful and exotic woman. All of which were regulars here. That meant she was the new girl. That basically meant that she had it in the bag. Geno put the scag in Scaglioni. He had to fuck every attractive girl that entered the place, after all. She chuckled to herself. She was so funny.

It didn't take long for that pigs eyes to begin moving down to Abigail's breasts. Perhaps the sweater dress she was wearing wasn't a good seducing mechanism, but she wouldn't have been able to hide her weapons very well in anything tight. Purses were also way too suspicious and ran the risk of getting searched. Slowly, the short stocky man excused himself from the table and approached her. She pretended to look lost, knowing his type enjoyed pretending to want to help. "Well hello there, little lady. I've never seen you before. I don't know who invited you, but I'm sure glad they did..." His voice was dry and crackly, as if he had been smoking for decades. probably had.

"Really, Mr. Scaglioni? Why is that? I'm certainly not dressed like the other women here." She subtly swayed her hips and pretended to be intimidated by the two dollar whores that inhabited the place. The man chuckled and then pulled her close to him, his arm around her waist. He was about three inches shorter than Abigail was...maybe around 5'6". How could a man as diminutive as him run a fucking mafia?

"Well sweetie," He began, beginning to lead her towards the stairs that led to the second floor. "To tell you the truth, I do like the way you dress...its classy and leaves a lot to the imagination, and I have a pretty damn good imagination." He grinned at her, and it took every goddamn fiber of her being to smile back. She would take good pleasure in ridding this grease ball from society. As they made their way up the stairs, he lowered his hand to her shapely ass and squeezed. She giggled playfully and continued walking. There weren't any guards up here. What the fuck? Was he really that stupid?

"Security is so tight downstairs, but no one is here..." She said innocently as the man opened the door to his room. He gave her a light push inside and closed the door. She heard the unmistakable click of a lock and grinned. Who was locking who in?

"Security? The only people allowed in here is me and my women," The man began as he made his way to his chair. He looked her up and down again and then reached down to his desk. "And I can defend myself against a woman." He took out his gun and simply showed it to her with a smirk. She pretended to look surprised and scared, but secretly she was amused. "Don't worry, I won't use it on you if you're a good girl...Now come sit in Daddies lap... "

This guy was seriously making it hard not to kill him right there. She had already came up with a plan though to tranq this bastard so that when her doppleganger popped up he would just think he was sleeping. Then she would simply hide underneath the desk and pop him and the pig when he got close enough. She walked to him, pretending to be nervous and unsure of herself. That just got them off even more. Straddling herself on the mans lap, she could feel his pathetic excuse for a hard on underneath her and wished she had worn panties for this operation. The first thing the man reached for were here breasts, and he grabbed them hard and squeezed them.

"Hot damn, I haven't felt a pair of natural tits as big as these in weeks!" He shouted. She just smiled at him and then grinded against him a little. He made a noise resembling that of a pig grunting. "Ooh, you're a take charge kind of girl...I like that..." He said, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes. He was just making this sooo much easier. She continued grinding while slipping her hand up her dress and taking out a syringe, then hiding it behind her back. With her free hand, she pressed her body against him and began to give him the best kiss had ever had while continuing to move her hips. Suddenly, while the man was enjoying the kiss, she took hold of his hair and pulled back violently and then stabbed him in the neck with they syringe, pushing down on the injector.

She felt his muffled screams of surprise while she kissed him before he passed out. She took out the syringe and slipped it back into her holster. "Sweet dreams." She said with a smirk and then removed herself from his lap. Slapping the back of his head, he landed face down on the desk and she set him up so that it looked like he had passed out from too much drugs or something. "Sweet dreams...I'm on a roll today." She giggled.

From the closet in the office, a set of sharp eyes witnessed everything Abigail did. They watched as Geno led her in, the way she coyly let him lead her around. They observed her reaction when he started showing off his gun, an obvious compensation for what he was lacking elsewhere. They followed every move through the cracked door when she started taking charge, straddling his lap and getting him going, and they damn sure witnessed her stabbing his neck with a syringe and pumping him full of something. He was still breathing, so it was likely just a narcotic of some sort to knock him out. She was trying to bait him. She was the copycat! This beautiful woman was the one he had been trying to draw out!

As the realization sunk in, Caleb couldn't help but smirk to himself. He should have guessed it to be a woman. Few men could pull off some of those killings with the kind of finessed he was capable of, but a woman, somehow it made sense. She wasn't just a woman, though. She was gorgeous, with silky blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and a body with curves that would make a porn star jealous! She was also obviously quite dangerous, and no doubt highly trained, he reminded himself, and therefore was not to be taken lightly. Her allure only made her even more of a threat, because it could be...distracting. It looked as if this might be even more fun than he had anticipated.

It was too bad she'd put Geno out. Now he had to wait for the asshole to wake up before he killed him. He had to see it coming, otherwise the death was pointless. It was a good thing he packed tranqs himself, and the smelling salts to counteract them, just for those occasions where it was advantageous to knock someone out for relocation before finishing them off. Narrowing his eyes, he realized there was no need for the mask, since his girl was right there and he wanted her to see his face, the face of a real killer. Pulling the mask off, he stuffed it back into its pouch and slowly opened the closet door, now that her back was to him, slipping out as silently as the death he brought with him.

In one nearly impossibly swift motion, there was a hand in Abigail's hair, jerking her head back as a leg tangled between hers, a hip placed against her back to arch her body so it would be hard for her to react to anything, and the cold steel of a knife at her throat. In her ear there was a voice, calm, and in a way quite alluring, the kind of voice a woman would want to hear speaking to her while she was getting the best fucking of her life. "You know, you should really learn to make sure your location is secure before you go patting yourself on the back," the voice said, almost seductive in its tone, and one could only imagine what the man it belonged to looked like. She would see soon enough, though. He didn't want to kill her like this. He wanted her looking into his eyes when it happened, though a part of him felt it was a bit of a shame to take the life of such a lovely, and talented creature. Perhaps that part is what caused his hesitation.

"Don't let this flatter you too much," he purred in her ear as he lowered the knife, turning the tip toward her sliding it beneath the hem of her shirt before he pulled it up and out to split the front of the shirt open, exposing her body to him. "I just need to see what else you might be carrying on you that you can try to kill me with." He then began to trail the knife over her skin, slowly, using the blade to keep her at bay for the moment and to feel for anything she might have had strapped to her under the loose fitting shirt, though he seemed to intentionally tease her a bit as well, drawing the cold steel over her breasts even, letting her nipples feel the flat side pressed against them briefly. He was toying with her, it seemed, perhaps a bit overconfident, or perhaps simply testing her to see if she was good enough to get out of her predicament and make it a more even fight.

Abigail was just about to turn on her heel and head for the closet after she finished setting Scag's dead weight up on his desk before she felt someones hand grab her by her loose pony tail and yanked her back. Before she could even react, she found herself in a difficult and awkward position with absolutely no openings to wriggle her way out of. Her hands had automatically went for his wrists, her long nails digging into his flesh but stop just short of drawing blood when she felt the knife up to her neck. She was panting heavily as the burst of adrenaline went through her, realizing that she was in a very difficult fix and may not be able to get out of it.

Her panicked face suddenly shifted into a composed and relaxed one. "Ah...so you were already here? Early as always I see." She relaxed her fingers so she was no longer digging her nails into him. Feeling the knife move down to the hem of her dress and tear all the way up made her wish that she wore panties. Then again, those probably would have been torn off anyway. Now her fully nude body was in view and the attached holster hanging over her hips containing her sedatives, knife and gun was exposed. Even if he let her go he'd likely do it after taking her weapons from her.

As the knife trailed up her stomach and around her nipples they reacted instantly and she bit back a moan. The danger only proved to turn her on more but she had to focus. If she didn't talk her way out of this she'd be dead. "Here I thought it would be easier for me to infiltrate because I was a woman. Maybe the shitty security was a back fire after all," She managed to say, her lips curling into a seductive smile. She could even turn her head to see him all the way, but just being against his body like this let her know that he was tone, probably had a very nice body underneath all that black clothing. Hopefully he would be handsome. She'd never forgive herself if she died at the hands of an ugly.

"Well, at least I know that you will continue my work when I'm gone. I don't know why you go after the same people as I do, but I do it because of justice. I do it because those types of scum are hurting our country and our future. They're making innocents suffer. There are so many people who deserve their money a lot more than they do. I won't stop until the I destroy the system so the rich don't get richer and the poor don't get poorer. I'm fighting for my country...even after they discharged me from the special ops." She paused, realizing she had gone a little too far. She realized though, the best way to persuade someone of his intelligence was with the truth. He could probably see through bullshit lies as well as she could.

She sighed and then closed her eyes, the grin no longer on her face but a stern and honest expression replacing it. "I don't mind dying for my country. I'm just not ready to die now." She wondered if their was any point in begging. Probably not. One wrong word and she'd end up with a slit throat. "I must say though," She began, her face lighting up again with seduction. "Its too bad that we didn't get together for a cup of copy or something. You seem like you're very much my type. The way we danced around each other playing cat and mouse was kind of fun. It did give me a thrill of pursuit, but I guess I was the one who ended up being your pray." She moved her hands down to her breast, being careful not to graze the knife and clutched them hard, pushing them together. "At least you got to see my naked body. Not many men do, especially not even before a first date." She teased with a grin.

The way the woman began talking, teasing almost, certainly had Caleb's attention. He was no fool, however, and didn't let his guard down for even an instant. She was good, he had to admit, and if it were anyone else she would have likely already had them lowering the blade only to end up with a slit throat already. He wasn't so easily convinced, though. While the sight of her pressing her breasts together had indeed been...nice...but he couldn't let such a move distract him. This girl was dangerous, and even the slightest opening would mean his death with her. Instead, his hand released her hair, but he moved fast, incredibly so, to grab her by the throat, spinning her to face him as he forced her onto the desk, pinning her back to the hard, cold wood.

He then began to use the knife to cut the straps that kept her weapons in place, pushing them aside with the blade, his hand remaining on her throat, not squeezing hard enough to cut off her oxygen, but he did keep enough pressure there to let her know he could choke the life from her without much effort. Now looking at her body from the front, even more exposed to him, he found the view quite pleasant. Slipping the knife into its sheathe, he reached to his side, producing a bit of black nylon rope before pulling her to a sitting position. At least now she got to see the face of her opposition, and it did indeed match his voice. He was easy on the eyes, there was no doubt about that. She wasn't going to die at the hands of an ugly man.

Picking up her gun, he stepped back as he took the weapon out of the holster. The way he moved, and the way he handled the weapon, it was clear he had been trained. Chances were this guy used to be special forces of some sort. Reaching up to the latch of the wall bed with one hand, the other keeping the gun leveled on her, he pulled the bed down before stepping toward her once more, picking the rope up he had removed moments before. "Wrap your arms under your thighs," he ordered her. It was clear what he planned to do, and was smart about the way he was obviously planning to tie her up. Apparently he wasn't going to kill her just yet. Perhaps her story had bought her a little time. Or perhaps he wanted Geno awake to witness her death before his own. Or maybe he planned to do...other things first.

When her released her she knew that she didn't get him that easily. If he was smart he would...wait...holy shit. Abigails eyes widened when he took her by the throat, not because she was scared but his appearance caught her off guard.

This man was possibly the most attractive male she had ever witnessed in her life. Or maybe it was just the blood lust in his eyes that attracted her so much. It reminded her of...well herself. She had nearly lost it a second there. What "it" was, she didn't know, but she didn't have time to ogle this man. She needed to take whatever opening she could. There was a low chance he would leave one, but none the less if one slight opportunity presented itself it would be the last.

When he forced her onto the desk, she winced but kept her eyes locked on his, even when feeling his blade cut the holster from her body. She noticed that he was enjoying the view, but that was no surprise because he was a man after all, and it was rare that men, serial killer or not, did not take a gander at an exposed women. She wondered if she was in any position to tease him. Probably not. Judging by the way he simply kept quiet he was the strong and silent type. No point in trying to talk any further.

As he sat her up, she got an even better look. Damn he looked tasty. It was hard focusing on the nylon rope that he just pulled out. Guess she wasn't going to be getting out of this any time soon. She found herself hoping that if he decided to kill her, he would at least screw her first. It had been a while since she actually found her victims attractive without them being bloodied up. She quickly dismissed the thought however, as she was sure that if she began to think that would way it would mean her ultimate down fall. No no. She couldn't be thinking that she would die. It was true that she could die, but the moment she started thinking of herself in the past tense would be what sealed her fate. She had been in plenty of life or death situations before.

As he picked up her gun, she didn't even try to make a move. It was because the handle he had on it meant that he was a professional. Damn, she was kind of screwed here. When she saw him lift down the wall bed she couldn't help but smirk as a bunch of corny jokes came to mind. It wasn't the time. She couldn't read that cold expression of his, so she couldn't tell his intentions. As he ordered her to wrap her arms under her thighs, she obeyed obediently. "Why, I had no idea you were into bondage!" She bursted out, and then cursed herself for being such an idiot in her head. She just couldn't hold her tongue any further. If that was the last thing she said before she died, she'd be so humiliated in hell.

Caleb slowly let the hammer down on the pistol before hitting the safety and sliding it into his belt. Now that he was close enough to get his hands on the girl again, he would be able to handle her well enough. He began to tie her up, first making sure to bind her wrists together so they were held in check under her thighs, forcing her legs to be raised and bent to her chest. He then ran the rope from her wrists to her feet, tying them together with the same knot he had used on her wrists. The guy had obviously been trained in doing this sort of thing, since the knots weren't going to be easy to pick apart, if it could be done.

Once her feet were secured, he began to wrap the rope around her legs and her body, securing her arms at her sides. He was an artist, really, the rope coiled around her calves and thighs, then ran around her torso, managing to even wrap it beneath her as he turned her body as needed to get it done, ripping away the remnants of her dress to leave her in nothing but her boots. When he was finished, the rope even ran over and under her large breasts, and between them as a section was pulled up between her legs, pressing into her womanly parts a bit, and up her body to be tied around her neck. The way she was tied might have made her laugh at the sight, had she seen it on someone else, but it probably wasn't so funny when she was witness to the effectiveness firsthand.

He then hoisted her up easily, carrying her to the bed, where he dropped her rather unceremoniously before turning back to Geno. Taking out a smelling salt container, he grabbed Geno by the hair and raised his head, cracking the salt open before slapping the gangster hard in the face. "Wake up, Geno," he taunted as the man shook his head and began to stir, eyes going wide as they opened to the feeling of a blade pressed to his neck. With a wicked smile, Caleb leaned close, making sure Abigail could see everything.

"What? Who the fuck are you?" Geno seemed pissed, but also knew better than to push his luck when someone had him at the tip of a razor sharp blade. Moving like he was reaching for his gun, the short, greasy gangster frowned when Caleb produced that very gun in his off-hand. "Looking for this? Yeah, not gonna do you much good," he continued to taunt, tossing the gun in the trash can. "You make a living off the blood of others, Geno. Mostly innocent people who are just trying to get by." Narrowing his eyes a bit, Caleb was obviously past the point of playing now. "I'm here to take that blood back." With that, he spun away, leaving the crime boss sitting there wide-eyed...until the thin line of red started to show on his neck, growing thicker before it simply started pouring down his body, staining his expensive suit, the gangster gurgling as he tried to speak, obviously to no avail.

Pacing the room, the handsome young man continued to speak. "You've gotten your ass out of trouble by intimidating witnesses into refusing to testify, or by simply killing them. How many murder charges have you managed to duck now? Wasn't it like...three?" Looking to Geno, who grasped at his throat in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding, Caleb rolled his eyes. "Pathetic. You play such a hardass until you're taking your last breath, then all of a sudden you're squirming like the little bitch you really are..."

In one final move, Caleb was on the mob boss, pulling a pair of pliers from his tool belt, pushing the man's head back, which caused the blood to run more freely, even spurting a bit several feet out from his dying body, some of it hitting the bound woman on the bed. "Say 'ahhh' Geno," Caleb joked as he forced the pliers into the man's mouth, grabbing hold of a canine and pulling it out with one yank before letting go of the crime boss who simply slumped into his chair, unable to even scream from the pain, the last bit of life leaving his body. Taking out a small glass vial, Caleb dropped the tooth into it and sealed it before putting the bloody pliers away, covered in a good bit of blood himself. Dropping the vial back into a pouch, he turned to the girl once more, looking her over appreciatively, and somewhat thoughtfully. "Now...what do I do with you?"

The way he was tying her up made her wonder if he really was into bondage. She was totally relieved that he hadn't decided to kill her after that crack, but she figured that he was the serious type and couldn't appreciate a good joke when he heard one. It took several minutes for him to finish his masterpiece, and she couldn't help but appreciate it, even from her perspective. She blushed a little bit when she felt the rope rub against her cunt a little bit but dismissed it. At least he didn't intentionally put a knot there.

Sighing when he ripped off the rest of her dress, she tried her best not to be humiliated, but not even she could keep a straight face. When he picked her up with ease, she couldn't help but try to test the elasticity of the rope. Not even an escape artist could get out of this crap. Plus whenever she struggled too much, it began to rub in between her legs and tightened around her breasts. So much for that. A gasp escaped her lips stick smudged lips as he tossed her onto the bed, and she had a perfect view of that pig Geno. How disappointing, she would have rather looked at this strangers face.

Watching the events occur right before her eyes, she couldn't help but get a little excited. He didn't even want to kill the man when he was asleep. That wouldn't have been any fun to her either. Especially because the look on Geno's face couldn't be achieved if he was passed out. Even in her own predicament she couldn't help but mentally cheer her captor on.

Wait. What the fuck was she thinking about?

She began getting very angry. She didn't like it when she lost track of her agendas, and she remembered just how much she hated him before she saw him. That fuck was messing with her head. She was the one who killed people for justice. She was the hero. NOT HIM. She began to grind her teeth through his speech, acting like a big shot. He was a goddamn fake. He had just gotten the upper hand while she was distracting with the now dead pig who used to be Scag. When he turned around to face her, her expression was completely different. Her eyes were filled with malice, but she didn't say a thing. Not even to crack a joke. Play time was over. She'd get him for this.

Seeing that look on her face, it was now his turn to be amused, his lip curling into a crooked grin as he looked down at her, a smile that was just too damn charming and sexy to not notice. It gave him an almost sinister look, but what woman didn't love one of those evil grins? "Well, looks like you ran out of jokes, hmm?" With a smirk, he glanced back to Geno one more time before looking to her again. "There's nothing to gain by killing you...and I obviously can't just let you go...so it looks like you're coming with me. At least for now." It was a good thing he'd been given the weekend off after that little fiasco earlier that day, since his dance card now seemed full. He couldn't just leave the girl alone, after all. She was way too crafty, obviously, and that would come back to bite him in the ass fairly quickly.

"Looks like we're taking a road trip," he said as he bent over to hoist her onto his shoulders. He then made his way to the window, dumping her out first onto the fire escape, not so gently either, but not making a point of being especially rough. The simple fact was, there was really no gentle way to get her out there. He then climbed out after her, picking her up once more as he made his way to the ground via the ladder after pushing it down with his foot, taking great care with the extra package he now carried. Once on the ground, he walked toward a spot where he could tie her rope to one of the support posts for the fire escape, making sure to kick anything on the ground near the spot that could be used to escape or grabbed and hidden as a weapon away from her so it would be impossible for her to reach anything. The guy really did know what he was doing.

"Don't move," he told her. "I'll be right back." Was he fucking kidding? Seriously? As if she could! His smirk told her he was indeed kidding. Apparently he had gone from humorless killer to stand-up comedian. Walking around the corner and out of the alley, he made his way to the car, managing to remain unseen for the most part, getting into the vehicle and starting it. Within a few minutes, he was pulling it around and backing it into the alley to recover the girl. After all, trying to move around unseen with a naked woman on his shoulders would have been pretty hard to do, so he had to leave her there for that few minutes. It wasn't like he had been careless and given her any means of escape anyway.

Opening the trunk as he stepped around the car, he headed for the spot where he'd tied her to the post, whistling to himself like he was doing nothing more than taking out the garbage or something just as meaningless. The guy really was kind of a psychopath. A brilliant psychopath, but a psychopath nonetheless.

His grin only served to get her even angrier. Just a moment ago he was Mr. Silent, and now he was a fucking wise guy. "Fuck off." Was all she managed to say just before he explained to her that he wasn't going to kill her. She rolled her eyes and kept silent. She couldn't scream or anything because even if it wasn't ignored, it would still be a pretty hairy situation if the security arrived. The fact of it was, that she would be screwed if she screamed out for help, period. If she got him noticed, she'd put herself at risk.

At least he wasn't going to kill her yet. She wondered if he had something to gain by leaving her alive though. Whenever she killed someone, she got some type of satisfaction out of it, and from watching him kill in front of her, he seemed to as well. Then again, if he was going with the whole vigilante thing, he probably just didn't see her as a threat to his cause. However, to her, it was much more trouble kidnapping someone rather than simply shooting them through the head and ending it. There had to be some reason why he didn't want to kill her. Perhaps her earlier speech did work.

When he hoisted her up from the bed once more, she cursed under her breath. She knew this meant that she'd be thrown around like luggage. You couldn't climb out of a window with someone on her shoulder. One painful drop later, she was tied to a post like a dog, patronized, and left out in the open in the nude. She sneered at him when he turned his back. Fuck. This meant she was gonna lose her Vespa, didn't it? She loved that thing too.

When he came back around in his vehicle and loaded her up in his spacious trunk(thank God) she gave him one last glare. "You're so lucky you managed to get an edge on me, otherwise you'd be dead by now."

"Please...as sloppy as you were? You're just lucky you can talk a good game," he told her, confirming that her speech had indeed made some sort of difference. "Or maybe I just have a soft spot for blondes with big tits," he added with a smirk, obviously adding that last bit just to make her uncomfortable. Closing the trunk, he turned to walk back to the front of the car, pausing for a moment and frowning. "Damnit," he muttered to himself. The shreds of her dress were still up there, and he couldn't leave it. If they traced anything to her, it could lead them to him.

Turning and running back to the fire escape, scrambling up quickly, disappearing into the window and emerging a minute later. Making his way down the fire escape and back to the car, he got in and took off quickly before someone got suspicious over him being parked in the alley. Soon he was on the road, heading for the edge of town and out of the city a bit. He had a place to go, just in case he found the need to hide out, and it looked like it was about to get some use.

The drive was about an hour, though it was probably longer to Abigail, especially since Caleb seemed to make a point of hitting every bump he could along the way. Finally the car seemed to be driving down a dirt road, and after about five minutes of this, came to a stop, the engine shutting off. There was no way of knowing which direction they had gone, only that they were quite some distance from the city. Soon, the trunk opened and he stood over her, flashlight in her face to keep her blinded and off balance, just in case she had managed to somehow get a hand free and was feeling froggy.

"Welcome to your temporary home, princess," he said as he began to take her from the trunk, shutting it and walking with her toward a building. It was dark, and hard to make out, but it looked like some sort of cabin. Opening the door, he hauled her inside, dropping her on a couch that was covered in a blanked, sending up a cloud of dust that indicated the place hadn't been used in quite a while. "Get comfortable," he told her, plopping down next to her and looking over at her as he turned the flashlight on her once more. "Because we're going to become a little better acquainted over the next couple of days."

This guy was really beginning to piss her off. True, she should have taken not to her surroundings more even if she though that she was early. However, she was used to having only one target, so she could see how her distraction happened. Still, she really hated losing, and her mood was certainly a fowl one. When he closed the trunk, she could no longer see anything until the car started up, lights momentarily flickering on in response. Then it got dark again and she felt him pull off. At least she knew that her opening up indeed had one her over.

After she calmed down a little, a light blush traced over her cheeks when she remembered him saying something about liking blondes with big racks. Why the hell did that even bother her? Its not like she hadn't heard worse before. It was so irritating how charming he was, but it seemed like the feeling was mutual at least. She loved being born beautiful. It was certainly helpful. After a half hour of being tied up in the back seat, she was cursing and yelping every time they hit a bump. Every time her body jumped up, the rope continued to grind and squeeze. Her legs were going numb as well.

Finally, the car stopped after a very bumpy dirt road. She closed her eyes when the bright light hit her face, and once again cussed underneath her breath. When the glare finally was moved away from her face, she opened her eyes just as he swooped her up for the thousandth time tonight and hauled down a dark pathway to a spooky looking house. Coughing as he threw her on her side on the dusty blanket, her skin began to crawl and itch. "Ugh, this is fucking gross!" She spat, and then did her best to glare at him from the corner of her eye. She waited for the dust to settle before breathing in again and then smirked. "So you're going to get get to know me before having your way with me, huh? Interesting."

"Never said I was going to do anything of the sort to you," he said matter-of-factly. He then pushed himself off the couch and walked to a nearby table, the moon and stars providing just a slight bit of light through the cracks in the boarded up windows of the cabin. Taking an oil lamp from the table, he produced a Zippo and removed the glass cowl of the lamp, lighting it before sliding the glass back onto it and turning the knob to lengthen the wick enough so that the flame danced a bit brighter. Taking the lamp with him, he walked to a door and opened it, revealing a set of steps leading down into pure darkness. Disappearing down those steps, there was a bit of rustling below for several minutes before he emerged from the doorway once more.

Setting the lamp on the table, Caleb grabbed the girl and hoisted her up once more, walking to the door and down the steps with her. In the basement, it could be seen that he'd gone through the trouble of lighting a few more lamps so they could see, and had pulled an old cot out of the corner and dusted it off. Setting her on the cot, actually gently for a change, he straddled the thing so he could sit facing her, starting to untie the knots in her ropes. After a few minutes, he had reconfigured the rope so she could lay out on the cot, the thing still coiling around her legs and torso as it had before, but at least her hands were no longer bound around her thighs.

Once he had her secured to the cot, he pulled up a chair to sit beside it, glancing over at her. This time he had tied a knot just beneath her crotch to add a touch of extra discomfort if she struggled too much, figuring that should discourage her from trying to hard to get free. Watching her for a moment, he rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, then placed his chin in the palm of his hand, as if he were sitting there having a lighthearted conversation with her. "So, tell me about yourself," he said in an almost casual tone. "Your name, what you do, and how you got into this business."

Abigail rolled her eyes lazily. Like he didn't want to have his way with her. Whatever. Not that she was disappointed. She watched him until he left her line of sight, wishing that she could at least turn to know what he was doing. Instead she had to settle for listening to him rumbling about and opening a door. For a moment there was simply silence, and the woman wriggled around a bit more to see if there was some weak point to the rope, but it only served to frustrate her. If the rope squeezed any tighter her tits would turn blue.

Hearing him come back into the room alerted her and she stopped struggling. Once again she was picked up, and she was getting tired of it. Not that he was being rough with her this time, but still. She was still sore from when he threw her down on the bed and when he threw her out the window. She grimaced when he took her down into the basement. This was getting way to fucking creepy for her tastes.

This time, he actually set her down gently, which kind of surprised her. When he began untying her she was bracing to make a run for it, only to find out that she was still bound rather tightly even with the new adjustments and it was pointless to run. She closed her eyes and calmed herself. She had to be patient. Her chance would come...hopefully. With one tug she yelped and then realized he had tied a not just against the most sensitive part of her slit. She glared at him, wishing she had never jinxed herself earlier. When he secured her, she made no move to try to test the rope out and see if she could get loose this time. There was definitely no point to that while he was watching her. She sighed when he told her to talk about herself. She really didn't have a choice.

"My name is Abigail Reeds," She began, looking away because she hated conversing with people. "I'm a school teacher. I suppose I got into this business after I was discharged from the military. They wouldn't let me fight for my country anymore after I had a...small mental break down." She didn't like going down memory lane. "I'm twenty seven years old. I entered the military at 18 and got discharged at 25. After a year of therapy, I returned to my senses. Or rather, I learned to cope with who I really was, and stopped pretending to be something I'm not..."

She paused, and the sighed heavily. "The mental break down was because I realized that I enjoyed killing, and during a skirmish I accidentally shot one of my closest friends. Well, not accidentally. That's what caused me to lose it. I did it because I wanted to. He wasn't there for good intentions, just selfish intentions. And I hated him for it. So I shot him in the head. When I realized what I had done, part of me was happy. The other part? Not so much. People just assumed I couldn't handle seeing the death of the guy, but really it was just because I didn't know how to cope with who I really was. So now..." She looked at him and then smiled a bit. "I am killing because I wasn't done defending my country. I figured there was just as much people that needed to die within its borders than outside. They wouldn't let me back in anyway." She smiled sheepishly.

Listening to Abigail's story, Caleb nodded slightly now and then as he hung on the words. It was almost a familiar story, except for the part about the mental breakdown. It wasn't that his mental condition was any better than hers, but he at least hadn't gotten pegged as a headcase. Still resting his chin in the palm of his hand, he pursed his lips gently, as if trying to decide on something. Finally he gave a small nod, not to her so much as to himself, as if having come to some sort of decision. "That's an interesting story, Abigail. I suppose it's only fair I tell you a little something about myself then."

Looking to her as he sat up, he watched her for a moment, not in the sense of ogling her body, but in more of a thoughtful manner. "Caleb Randall," he told her as he settled into the chair a bit. "Sergeant in the N.Y.P.D. S.W.A.T. unit. Been with the department for three years. Before that, eight years Navy, the last six on the teams." Having been military, Abigail would have known what the 'teams' meant. This guy was a fucking SeAL! Well, it did explain a lot. Giving a bit of a shrug, he continued to speak. "After my discharge I got restless, so went out for he P.D. A year on patrol, and I went out for S.W.A.T. Everyone else was going for the detective's exam, but that crap just seemed boring to me."

Taking a moment to let Abigail soak in all he'd said, he finally continued after a minute. "Made the team, naturally. Not like there was much competition. But I guess you're probably wondering how I got into my...night job." He pursed his lips a bit, perhaps looking a bit angry at what he was thinking about. "Over the last few years I've watched so many assholes manipulate the system to get out of trouble. Witness intimidation, dirty officials, you name it. Guys who use their money and influence to make charges mysteriously vanish. About a year ago, Antonio Peretti was on trial. You might remember that. Well, the primary witness for the case was a teenage kid, witness to an execution where Peretti pulled the trigger himself. Kid never showed, and was really all the state had. Peretti walked. Kid's body turned up a few weeks later in the river. Of course they couldn't prove anything, but I knew better."

He took a deep breath, this part of the story obviously somewhat emotional for him. "I had brought that asshole in, just to have him walk by killing someone else...and the system just let it happen. I snapped. I drove out to his place, the one outside the city where he thinks he's hidden and safe, snuck in, and left him lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood. He got to look into my eyes first, though. He knew what was happening, and why. After that, I realized that sometimes justice means going outside of a broken-ass system and taking care of it yourself. Been doing it ever since."

Giving Abigail a few minutes to let everything sink in, Caleb eventually continued. "I remember some old belief that a person who isn't laid to rest whole will never know peace, so I always take a small part of each person I kill. Might be just an old myth, but I like to think that I'm guaranteeing their afterlife is a tormented one. No less than they fucking deserve. That's why I take a tooth from each one." Giving a shrug, he fell silent once more, almost as if contemplating what to do after they had each shared their stories.

For a few minutes, the woman was silent. Not out of shock or anything. It was that story about the child. She adored children, and it hit home with her. She remembered hearing it on the news, and she had planned on killing that guy herself after hearing that the child turned up dead. By the time she figured out where that son of a bitch was hiding, someone had already gotten to him. That someone was apparently this Caleb. She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. She couldn't lose it right now.

Abigail wasn't surprised at all at that the guy was a Seal. That would explain his finesse with handling a hand gun. What she was surprised about, was the fact that he shared a similar story of her own. Sure there was some minor differences, but it was still pretty strange. When he shared his believe with her, she remembered when he pulled the tooth out of Scag's skull. So that was what that was about. She had heard something about in the news. The only thing that separated his killings and hers was that detail. You'd think it would be enough.

Opening her eyes again, her thoughts became clear and she was able to speak. "You know," She began, her eye twitching a bit as she struggled to work all the anger out of her system mentally. "Children are innocent. I think the most unforgivable sin is making them suffer. Sometimes I go after child abusers and pedophiles." She looked up at him, her blue eyes darkening a little. "I wanted to take that bastard and torture him just before dumping him in the same river. However you took care of it. I have respect for you for doing that."

She then looked up at the wall. This guy really wasn't so bad even if he kidnapped her and tied her down. She probably would have did the same to him if she had managed to capture him. He was too good looking to kill before fucking his brains out. Her face flushed a little at the thought and she shook her head slowly, still wondering how this man managed to make her blush when she was comfortable with her sexual side. Perhaps she cared what he thought of her. He was possibly the only person in this world that understood her and her ideals.

Nodding slightly as Abigail shared her thoughts on his story, Caleb finally stood to stretch a bit, glancing over at her for a moment. He had seen those angry looks she had kept giving him, so he wasn't ready to let her go just yet, not being a fan of a sliced throat in his sleep. No, she would stay tied up until she simmered the hell down, even if it meant he would have to find a way to calm her at some point. He had already decided he wasn't going to kill her, or at least not yet. Whether or not she started to play nice would be the deciding factor on if that decision held or not.

"I'll be back," he told her as he started up the steps, pausing and looking back at her with a wry grin. "Stay right there," he said before disappearing up the stairs, likely dodging a barrage of cursing from her from what he'd observed so far. A few minutes later he returned with two bottled waters in hand. "Always keep a cooler of these in the car. Handy for washing off blood, and keeping you hydrated," he told her as he sat and opened one. He then reached for her head, raising it enough to give her a sip. The water was cold, having been packed in ice, a bit of the condensation dripping from the bottle onto her skin as it passed over her body to her lips.

After giving her a sip, he took a sip of his own from the same bottle rather than opening the other one he'd brought, figuring they could just share one for now. After all, it wasn't like she'd been there for days and was dehydrated. "Just say if you need some poured on you. It gets kind of muggy down here with the lamps burning." Taking another sip from the bottle, he held it up as if asking her silently if she wanted another sip, tilting his head to the side a bit, trying not to look at her body too much. She was already convinced that was why he took her, or maybe she was just hoping that would be part of the deal. He hadn't considered that yet...

"Again with the don't move bullshit? Ha fucking ha." She shouted behind him and then sighed. Her eyes shifted to the corner of the room while she saw cob webs. This was creeping her out. What if he left her down her and she got covered in cobwebs? That wouldn't be cool. At all. Why a basement anyway? She was sure that the bedroom would work much better. Especially a post bed. Those were indeed good beds for tying someone up. Then again, as dusty as the living room was, this was probably just a hide out he used just for situations like this. Which meant that the bedroom would probably be no different.

When he came back down stairs, she continued to narrow her eyes, still peeved about that joke. He really was a copy cat. She was the one who made the jokes first and now he was stealing her bit. The absolute nerve! Noticing the bottle of water in his hand. She realized that she was going to be taken care of. It had only been an hour and a half into her kidnapping and he was already making sure she was hydrated. The warmth of the place hadn't bothered her, she had been through worse while she was in the military. She could see herself starting to feel claustrophobic though with the lack of air flow.

She parted her lips and looked up at his as she slowly gulped the water down. Damn, her make up probably looked like shit right now. Not that she cared what he thought about her appearance. Nope. not at all. "Actually," She began, a small smirk forming on her face. "I would like it on me instead of in me. That should cool me down." She wasn't going to let him be the one to upstage her as far as jokes went. Although that one was a little perverted instead of funny.

"So," She began, casually changing the subject. "How has your strive for justice affect your love life?"

Shrugging as Abigail commented that she wanted the water on her, Caleb accommodated her, even if she was just making a perverted joke to try and get a rise out of him. He raised the bottle over her torso and poured a bit over her, perhaps making a point of letting some of the cold liquid hit her nipples before tilting it upright once more and capping it with a smirk. Setting the bottle aside, he cocked an eyebrow as she asked about his love life. The truth was, he hadn't had much of one since he'd started this. There had been a couple of times, though, that it became necessary to seduce the wife of a target, or some other woman similarly close, to learn the habits of those he was after. And of course, after hubby turned up dead, every one of those wives conveniently left out the fact that she'd been having an affair, wanting to save face. But they had never been anything but tools to him, nothing more.

Pursing his lips a bit, he looked at the girl, his mouth then drawing into a slightly seductive grin. "Well," he started, kneeling by the cot and leaning closer to her, moving to press his lips to her ear. "I could tell you a bit about my love life if you like. Would that make you all hot?" He raised a hand to glide it up her wet body slowly, tracing the flesh just below her breasts, then down, doing the same to her abdomen just above her cunt, but never actually touched either of the sweet spots. "Because if it does, then maybe I could tell you about..."

He was teasing her, there was no doubt, getting her worked up with his words and his touches. Grabbing the part of the rope that ran down her front, between her breasts and around her cunt, he tugged it upward so that the knot pressed into her a bit, then let it go as he completed the statement he had been starting. "...how it's none of your business." With a smirk, he bit her earlobe and backed away, heading for the steps. "I need to go clean the bedroom up a bit," he told her, glancing back at her. "Have a nice old iron post bed in there that will work nicely for keeping you in place, and it's big enough for both of us so I can keep an eye on you. Don't miss me too much." Giving her a devilish grin, he winked and disappeared up the steps.

The sounds of things being moved and his footsteps as he walked around the room cleaning up could be heard above for about a half hour, then he finally walked down the steps once more. Looking to Abigail, Caleb grabbed the water, offering her a bit more before capping the bottle and starting to untie her, this time giving her a bit of length to the rope between her feet as he reconfigured it, allowing her to walk on her own, her hands bound behind her back as he helped her to stand. "Up the steps," he ordered, grabbing the water bottles and prodding her along as he walked behind her.

Her body shivered as he poured the cold water onto her skin, her nipples instantly hardening in response. She hadn't really expected him to take her seriously, but a little water never killed anyone. She grinned. She always found that expression amusing. Wincing as she felt the water tricking down her breasts, she moaned purposely just to teasing him. "That's so good." She said with a smirk. She waited for him to answer the question, he seemed a little lost in thought for the moment. When he leaned over to press his lips against her ear, her heart began to beat faster. She fucking hated that he could make her react like that. But then again, it was exciting to her.

Her body tensed as he ran his fingers down her bare skin, teasing just underneath the spots she just wanted him to touch. When he toyed with the rope, it moved that knot he had tired and it began to run across her clit, causing her to moan for real this time. Damn, he was teasing her. For years, she had been the person doing all the teasing. Now, she found herself on the other end, and she could do nothing about it. The way the tone of his voice filled her ears was just turning her on even more. When he suddenly let go of her, she looked confused at first. She heard what he was saying, but it took a while to register in her head. "Wait, what do you mean its none of my business?" She growled eventually as he left the basement again.

This wasn't fucking cool. She didn't like being teased. That was what she was doing to people all her life? She really was cruel. She probably had this coming to her for years. And obviously, she wasn't going to be asking the questions around her. She had answered his question fully and truthfully. That wasn't fair at all. She closed her eyes and heard the sound of his foot steps right above her. He really was cleaning. She was half expecting him to leave and not come back until she was nearly dead.

When he came back down she met his gaze with another glare. She was still excited and a little wet from the last time he teased her. He untied her again, and she really wished he would make up his mind about where he was keeping her. It was ironic though, how he kept doing things that popped up into her head. First with the knot on her clit and now the post bed. "If you keep untying me and retying me," She began with a smirk as he loosened the rope that bound her legs together just enough for her to go into a shuffle. "You might slip up." Speaking of slip ups, she realized that she hadn't even tried to get out of the rope when he went upstairs...twice. That was a possible opportunity that she might have missed.

She moved towards the stairs, cursing herself for letting him get her so worked up that she couldn't even think straight. As she hopped up the stairs she grimaced at how idiotic she must of looked, what with her breasts and ass just bouncing with every hop.

Caleb found the sight of Abigail hopping up the steps rather amusing, especially since he'd left enough slack between her ankles for her to walk if she wanted. She probably didn't want to risk trying to step too high and tripping herself, since her hands were bound behind her and a face first plunge would sting a little. The logic still didn't make the sight any less entertaining, though. Once they were at the top of the steps, he indicated the direction of the room he had prepared for them. "That way," he said, pointing it out to her, prodding her along as he followed.

Once in the room, the iron post bed laid right there in the center, waiting for her. As he ushered her toward the bed, he playfully pushed her onto it face first, smirking lightly to himself in amusement. He then rolled her over after a moment and began to once again work the ropes, first bringing her hands to tie over her head to the posts at the top, keeping her to one side so he had room on the other, and he then secured her feet to the posts at the foot of the bed. He then walked around to 'his' side and plopped down next to her, resting his hands behind his head and crossing his feet, looking quite relaxed as he glanced over at her.

"Comfortable honey?" He was a cruel fucker, yet somehow so goddamned charming. It almost seemed wrong, smug bastard. Stretching out a bit, he made it clear he was quite comfortable. He made a person want to kick him...or fuck him...though it wasn't like Abigail could just do either of those at the moment, given her situation. The glances he stole at her body from time to time, though, did possibly reveal that she could probably get one of those urges filled if she played it right.

As she waddled into the bedroom, she couldn't help but take a look at her surroundings. It was nothing special. If she had enough money to buy a hide out she'd take better care of it. However, a school teachers allowance wasn't that generous, and she used anything extra she had left over for the month on extra tools for her night job. As he led her into the bedroom with the post bed in the center, she slowly stopped to turn around and try to sit, but suddenly she was knocked off balance and landed on the bed with a thud.

Glaring at him as he turned her onto her back, she watched him secure her to the bed, trying her best to keep a straight face as that stupid knot kept rubbing up against her. It was starting to feel really good now. She closed her eyes as it kept rubbing back and forth slowly, and began to push her thighs together. Was he doing this on purpose? Finally the torture stopped and she opened her eyes, watching him as he walked over to the other side of the bed.

At least it was soft...It felt a hell of a lot better than that cot that he had placed her on. Less itchy too. Hearing him refer her to "Honey", she slowly turned her head to him. "Don't fucking call me that. Ever again. Ever." She said in a low, flat tone. She then paused for a minute and sighed. "Its Abigail to you. Honey sounds so patronizing." She watched him glance at her body again, and smiled. "So, why isn't your love life any of my business? Maybe I should go first, like last time." Her closed her eyes and smiled.

"My last real boyfriend was actually the guy I shot. And then I briefly had a fling with my therapist, but that ended with me popping him simply because I knew that he made a habit of dating his clients and taking advantage of them. Ever since then I haven't been with anyone else. At least in a boyfriend girlfriend sense." She smiled and waited for him to answer.