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The first thing Jonas was aware of was the pain in his head. It was throbbing. The second thing that he was aware of was that his hands were tied to the arms of a chair. He noticed they were bound when he tried to touch his head with his hands. The same flash of knowledge informed him that his legs were bound too.

"The son of a bitch is coming around," a voice growled.

"Good," another, more cultured voice answered. "We need him to be fully conscious and aware before we start."

Jonas opened his eyes a slit and winced at the light. He was in his basement family room and bound to a heavy, oak Queen Anne chair. That fact confused him for a moment because this chair was in what his wife called the parlor upstairs. His eyes adjusted to the light a little better and he forgot all about the chair. His wife Sheila and daughter Liz were tied and sitting at each end of the couch about 8 feet in front of him. Two men were behind the couch and two more were sitting between his wife and daughter.

"Sheila, Liz, "Jonas blurted and jerked at his bindings. The heavy chair didn't even rock. They had used wire to tie his arms and legs to the chair. He was dimly aware of how tight the wire was wrapped because it was cutting into his skin.

"Jonas," his wife cried.

"Daddy, help us," his daughter cried.

"No gags," Jonas thought franticly. "Why would they remove their gags?"

"Mr. Gianni," the second voice said from his side. It was the cultured voice he had heard.

Jonas turned his head to see the man talking. A well dressed Mexican was standing about an arm's length away from him. Jonas got little satisfaction that he was feared so much that they kept away even when he was tied down. Jonas noted the odd ornate cross tattoo on the side of the man's neck. It was just like the man's tattoo that he had killed in Phoenix. The Mexican was looking at him and seemed to be searching his face.

Finally the man seemed satisfied with what he was seeing and nodded.

"Mr. Gianni," he said again. His voice had a cultured sound and was almost polite. It was polite like velvet over edged steel. "My name is Francisco Rodriguez. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Jonas replied. His voice was only a little slurred from the blow on the head. "Your name is Francisco Rodriguez. What is this about? Why are we tied up? We don't involve family in our disputes. Families are off limits."

"Yes, well, I agree that families should be off limits," Francisco replied.

The edge to his voice that Jonas had noticed before had roughed.

"It is too bad that you didn't observe the same protocols," Francisco continued. "This morning you killed my only son." The fury in the man's voice was full blown now and he almost choked on the final words. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself before continuing.

Jonas heard a gasp from his wife and daughter. Sheila knew what he did for a living. Liz didn't.

"So, Mr. Gianni, Jonas," Francisco continued after he had control of himself. "May I call you Jonas?" He didn't wait for Jonas to answer. "Now I must kill you. The question is, how can I best extract the agony from you that I am feeling? Joseph was my only remaining son and the last of my family. I think it is only appropriate that I take your family from you before I kill you."

Jonas franticly started jerking at his arms and legs trying to break free of the wire and blood started to drip from his finger tips.

Francisco ignored his efforts. "I could just take them with me after I killed you Jonas," Francisco continued as he walked across to stand in front of Sheila. "Your wife is a little older than we would normally use but she is beautiful. She would be a welcome addition to the brothels that service field hands and occasional ships that dock at the Mexican ports. She should be worth a few thousand at least." He reached out and stroked Sheila's breast and jerked his hand back when she snapped at him with her teeth. The man sitting next to her jerked her head back by her hair and raised his hand to slap her. Francisco stopped him with a shake of his head and smiled over his shoulder at Jonas. "The spirited ones are often worth even more." Francisco stepped to the other end of the couch and looked down at Liz.

The young girl cowered away from Francisco and looked at Jonas. "Daddy, please make them stop."

"I'm sorry, baby," was all Jonas could say to his daughter with a choking sob. "I'm so sorry."

Francisco smiled sadly and said, "A girl this young could bring 50 or 60 thousand US dollars, Jonas. I wouldn't even have to take her out of the country. There are people right here that would pay that much and she would never be seen again. Oh, she would live many years, if you could call the existence she would have life." He stroked the young girl's hair one time before turning away and looking at Jonas.

"Leave my family alone you son of a bitch," Jonas yelled as he jerked at his bonds. "They didn't hurt you. I did. Hurt me."

"Oh I will hurt you," Francisco replied as he slowly walked toward Jonas. "I will hurt you so bad that you will curse the day you were born, Mr. Gianni," he growled. "And when you die you will be thanking God for death to escape the pain in your soul. Your body will feel pain, but the pain in your soul will be so much more that you can't stand it."

Francisco had to take several deep breaths to regain control again. Finally he said, "The problem with taking them with me is that you would not witness their degradation. I could make a lot of money from them but this situation is not about money. This is about retribution. I was told of my son's death less than 20 minutes after you killed him. I knew who had killed him within an hour. I learned that you had a wife and child while my jet flew my men and me to Kansas City. So I thought about it all afternoon, Jonas. I thought about it while my men were discovering if you had returned yet and if your family was home. Another idea I came up with was to have them raped in front of you, and then take them with me. The girl would be worth less but your wife would be worth the same. I thought about the agony that you would feel in your soul Jonas as you watched your wife and daughter be raped before being dragged away to a life as sex slaves."

Jonas jerked at his bonds harder, desperate to escape and save his family.

"But then I thought about my dead wife and our youngest son, my last son, the one you killed this morning," Francisco continued again. His voice had roughened again and he was watching Jonas struggle. "I thought of all the good times we had together. I remembered the trips to the zoo with his mother when he was young and the hunting trips when he was old enough. All the good times..." his voice choked again before trailing off in memory of bygone days.

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The next morning, Nicolette was at school almost an hour early, and was surprised to hear “Come in!” in response to her knock on the counsellor’s door. She’d been prepared to wait until he arrived, and then beg him for an appointment - last night, after she’d gone home from school, she’d been a mess. Conflicting thoughts had battled in her head - should she lose her virginity to Duncan? On one hand, she knew she wanted it - she’d wanted it forever. On the other hand, wasn’t she a good,...

Brandi Protector of the Gateway Season 2Chapter 9

Lily stood in front of the mirror, examining her outfit for the eve. She was wearing a plaid skirt and a white blouse, in an attempt to look the part of “slutty schoolgirl”. Her brow furrowed as she looked at where her cleavage was meant to be bursting out of her top; her tits were certainly large, but she was sure they’d been larger earlier in the day. She turned around and as she looked at her long, stocking-clad legs, her smile soon returned. The heels she was wearing didn’t really match...

Brandi Protector of the Gateway Season 2Chapter 13

Duncan looked around the locker room, trying to appear casual. He’d been looking forward to this moment all day. Last night, as he’d been fucking his girlfriend for the second time, he’d only been able to finish by imagining himself here, surrounded by naked, sweaty football players. Of course, in his fantasy, they hadn’t just been showering and getting dressed. They’d been doing so much more than that ... Just remembering the fantasy was enough to start his dick hardening, and Duncan’s...

Brandi Protector of the Gateway Season 2Chapter 17

There were dark rings beneath Mr. Foster’s eyes. Standard for a demon in their home realm, but strange and unsightly in the mortal world. He’d been up half the night, plotting for the day ahead. It wasn’t until five am that he’d managed to get some sleep. Nowhere near the full eight hours he needed, but enough to refresh his powers. Certainly enough for one victim ... even if she was the Protector. At nine, her request for a meeting had come in. He’d scheduled to see her right before...

Brandi Protector of the Gateway Season 2Chapter 21

“Yessss,” Duncan hissed as Brandi frantically bobbed her head up and down the first few inches of his enormous erection. “Oh Jeff, you sexy little cocksucker.” Brandi’s heart sank at the football player’s words. Was she so useless that Duncan had to pretend it was someone else going down on him? A puzzled look came across her face as she tried desperately to produce more saliva. She knew she could never be as good as another well-endowed man, but she could try. As she forced as much of...

Brandi Protector of the Gateway Season 2Chapter 22

The cheerleader couldn’t believe the sight in front of her. She stood, stunned, as her boyfriend roughly rammed his enormous cock into Brandi’s ass, again and again. His eyes were shut, squeezed so tightly that it almost looked painful. Brandi was face-down on the carpet, making a strange grunt and squeal sound every time Duncan rammed into her. Nicolette slowly backed out of the room, her face red, her fists clenched. Duncan. Cheating on her. Cheating on her. The fact that Nicolette had...

Brandi Protector of the Gateway Season 2Chapter 25

“No!” Duncan exclaimed, while Kristine and Jeff shared a knowing glance. “No, damn it - I’m not gay!” “It’s okay honey,” the older woman said sympathetically. “No one here is going to... -” “I’m not gay,” he insisted, and Mrs. Winters moaned in surprise as he pulled out of her. Before she could regain her composure (at least, as much composure as one can regain while naked and spreadeagled on the carpet) Duncan had gathered his clothes and left. He’d spent the next half hour making his way...

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