The sight of the haphazard pile of crisp green bills fanned out across Randy's coffee table made Mia's eyes widen in disbelief. She shook her head, tsking under her breath, as she swept the money into her eager hands. "Stupid, stupid Randy," she muttered, stuffing the cash into her purse as she kicked open her own front door. The scent of cheap perfume and old cigarettes wafted out, welcoming her home. Little did she know, Randy had been hot on her heels the entire time, a length of coarse rope coiled neatly in his hand, and a bright blue ball gag tucked discreetly in his pocket.
Mia didn't see it coming. One moment she was strutting through her cluttered living room, and the next, Randy's strong arms were around her, the rope unraveling like a serpent ready to strike. He made quick work of her wrists and arms, binding them tightly behind her back. The rough fibers bit into her soft flesh, leaving angry red marks as she struggled in vain.
Randy's eyes narrowed as he took in her pathetic attempts to free herself. He grabbed more rope and swiftly set to work on her pantyhose covered legs. First, he wound the nylon around her knees, pulling her legs together, then moved down to her ankles, cinching them tight. Mia grunted in protest, but Randy just smirked, a wicked glint in his eye.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ball gag, dangling it in front of her face. Mia's eyes went wide with fear. "Please, Randy," she begged, "don't do this." But Randy just shook his head, savoring the moment. He shoved the ball between her lips, buckling the strap tightly behind her head. Mia's pleas were reduced to muffled grunts, a thin line of drool already escaping her mouth.
Randy admired his handiwork, his eyes lingering on the humiliating crotch rope he'd knotted around her waist and between her legs. "That'll teach you to keep your thieving hands off my money," he growled. He plucked the cash from her purse, stuffing it back into his pocket.
As he turned to leave, he cast one last look at Mia, trussed up and helpless on the floor. "Think about what you've done, Mia," he taunted. "Wonder how long it'll be until someone finds you." With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving Mia all alone with her thoughts and the harsh reality of her situation. The ticking of the old kitchen clock echoed through the room, each second a cruel reminder of the long, uncomfortable night ahead.
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