The Harem on the Hill (Part XXXII) (Patreon)

“You’ll look better once we’re through with you.”

Tabitha covers her mouth with her hand and staggers back against the kitchen counter.  To her credit, she doesn’t crumble, and her expression of fear quickly transitions to one of thought. No doubt weighing her options. Fight? Flight? Accept defeat? 

Just as she seems resigned to option three, a blare from your phone causes you both to jump. You smile and shake your head, embarrassed that the alert for Tabitha’s spiking vitals startled you.

Only it isn’t Tabitha’s spiking vitals. It’s police at your front gate! 

A peek at the screen shows a black and white cruiser with flashing lights. The driver, a male officer with sandy hair, leans out the window and speaks into the pin-pad’s security camera as his shadowy partner looks on from the passenger side. You hit unmute—

Just as you’re hit with a chair to the chest. You stagger backwards into the living room and the phone falls to the floor. Before you can react, Tabitha plows into your bruised sternum and you both topple over the back of the sofa. 

“…with Metro. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

You roll intertwined from the sofa to the floor and Tabitha ends up on top. She straddles your waist and pins your wrists by your ears.

“Are you there, sir? It’s important we come in.” 

Tabitha leverages her body against yours to hold you down. It’s effective--especially now that she’s in your weight class. She’s a healthy girl. And she’s balanced with a nice base. Obviously, she’s had some sort of training. Probably a rudimentary self-defense class to ward off sexual predators. 

“It’s regarding the disappearance of a local girl.”

Tabitha whips her head towards the voice. “Yes! That’s me! I’m Tabitha Reynolds!”

Although you’d prefer to stay pinned beneath the beautiful Amazon, she’s distracted, and the situation needs to be dealt with. Resisting the hypnotizing sway of her bosom above your face, you slide your right arm above your head to shift her center of gravity, then you thrust your left hip up and out, toppling her. Tabitha may be a healthy girl, but she’s not healthy enough to resist the newfound pull of gravity from her hips, ass, and belly. 

Ideally, your maneuver would end with you on top of Tabitha, but that will have to wait. Instead, you spring to your feet and hurdle the back of the sofa like a gymnast on a pommel horse. 

Where the fuck’s the phone?

You suddenly regret your choice of dark patterned carpet.  It's basically urban camouflage.

"Hello?  Someone there?"

Like a game of Marco Polo, you follow the unseen officer's words until you spot the phone’s glow beneath the couch. You fall to the floor and fish it out.  The driver remains in the patrol car while his partner, a diminutive woman with a stern expression and even sterner haircut, has exited to check the gate; however, neither shows a sense of urgency.  The phone was unmuted, but the microphone never engaged. Tabitha's cries went unheard.  

So do your own. 

Before you can stand, Tabitha drops a cord around your neck from the back of the sofa and yanks you like a hooked tuna.  What is it with your girls and ligatures?  When you planned their chambers, you were concerned with sharp objects like kitchen utensils.  Apparently, you should have been worried about robe ties and video game controllers. 

You fall back against the couch and Tabitha reels you in. Like an expert angler, she doesn’t hoist you up immediately; instead she lets you dangle with your butt a few inches off the ground.  High enough to choke you, but not high enough for leverage. No matter how much you kick you can’t get your feet beneath you.

“We could use your assistance,” officer sandy hair says.

So could I, you think. 

You can’t see the phone—your head is locked in Tabitha’s noose and your vision reduced to spots—but at least you didn’t drop it. Working from memory, you swipe right twice, scroll down, and mash the screen with your thumb. 

Nothing happens.

So this is how it ends? Autoerotic asphyxiation administered by a robust redhead. Could be worse, you suppose. 

As your thoughts and visions fade, your thumb continues to probe. Scrolling.  Pressing. Scrolling.  Pressing. Scrolling. Pressing—

Suddenly, you’re yanked violently into the air. Then just as suddenly dropped on your butt.  

Gasping, you pull the ligature from your neck and rub the trenchlike indentation it created, restoring circulation. Using the sofa for support, you slowly rise, blinking away the blackness to find Tabitha prone on the sofa. She looks peaceful. Almost like she passed out watching TV after a pizza binge rather than the 25,000 volts you sent surging through her.

You glance at the screen for Tabitha’s vitals—only to find the forecast for Pasadena. It seems all your blind swiping and scrolling did was activate your weather app.

“YOU’RE WELCOME.” 

Tina’s voice booms like God over the intercom. 

“NOW WHY DON’T YOU DEAL WITH OUR VISITORS?”   

You swipe back to the gate camera just in time to see the gate closing and a cloud of dust wafting across the screen.

It seems police are patrolling your harem on the hill.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope you enjoyed this chapter of THOTH!  No choices this week as I didn't want to shoehorn them in where they didn't fit, but rest assured you will have many important decisions to make in coming weeks!