Heather meets her muggers again

Crying and sniffling, Heather hopped out of the perverts' yard. Was anyone prepared to help her? It seemed like everyone she met just made things worse for her. And the bystanders, if there were any, didn't seem to notice or care about her predicament.

Hop, hop, hop. A few inches at a time, Heather left the man's yard and went to the sidewalk. When she was on the sidewalk, she turned and started hopping oh so slowly toward the street.

Heather was starting to get tired from the exertions required of. Because of her increasing tiredness and the unceasing torment of her vibrator as well as the agony of her clothes-pinned nipples, she very nearly passed by the vacant lot. But something made her stop at the last minute. To her left was a tall wooden fence with a single entrance. Beyond that, she could see a dirt floor and a single wall, half wood, half brick, where someone had torn down a house not so long ago.

With nothing to lose, Heather hopped her way into the abandoned lot and peered at the remaining house wall. She looked at it for several minutes before she realized what she was looking at: a piece of tin, sticking out of the wall. She didn't know what it was for or how it came to be left, and she didn't care. The important thing was that it had a sharp edge at about the right height.

Heather turned around so her back was to the piece of tin. Then she hopped backwards until she felt the very corner of the tin digging into her butt. She felt around with her hands until she had the zip tie in the right position, then it was just a matter of sawing at it, patiently sliding tie back and forth across the edge of the tin.

Heather tried to be as patient as she could. She closed her eyes and focused on the sawing motion of her bound hands. It was the only thing that mattered to her right now.

Backward and forward, backward and forward, again and again and again, Heather sawed at the zip tie. She realized with some excitement that it was paying off. The tie was starting to give way. Just a few more seconds, a few more goes, and she would be rid of it, and then she could free her upper arms, and her breasts and her ankles.

That was when a voice she had heard before said, "That's enough of that," and grabbed her arm.

"MMMMMPH," Heather screamed. She opened her eyes and saw the man and woman who had **** her to strip and tied her up in the first place.

"Can't let you get free," the man said. "Not just yet."

He slid around behind Heather. She could feel his hands at her wrists. "She got it nearly all the way off," he said to the woman. "She has more spirit than I thought." He cut the nearly severed zip tie off and replaced it with a fresh one, fastening this new one tighter than the first. Then he added a pair of steel handcuffs, locking those tightly about her wrists as well.

"I don't think you'll cut those off, no matter how hard you try."

He stepped in front of Heather and said, "You've gotten in the most trouble of anyone, and quicker than anyone else. It's only taken you a couple hours. That's pretty impressive." He seemed to be examining her now. "That vibrator seems to be pretty far up there. And these --" he tugged at the clothespins cemented to her nipples as he spoke "-- probably won't come off outside of an ER."

He went on as Heather looked at him, frowning. "You may wonder what's going on. My wife and I have this little game. Every so often, we like to find a woman alone in a public place, make her strip, tie her hands, leave her car keys at her feet, then walk off and follow her from a distance and see what she does. This time, we chose you."

"And we haven't been disappointed," said the woman.

"No, we haven't."

The man squeezed Heather's shoulder. "Take care of yourself."

Then he and his wife were gone, leaving Heather alone in the abandoned lot, her hopes crushed.