Cindy plopped down on the couch and snatched the cordless phone from the table.
"Hello, Norris residence, this is Cindy," She announced distantly as she rapidly shot through the channels on the TV.
"You know, Cindy," The voice on the other end tinnily replied. "It's not especially bright to be announcing who you are to a perfect stranger."
Cindy pulled the phone from her ear and, dumbfounded, looked at it for a second. Instinct made her check the room in which she sat, and even take a cursory glance over her shoulder.
"Who is this?" She asked, returning the hand set to her ear, "Can I help you with something?"
"Yes, Cindy, you can. What I really want to say is that I know that you are in an unfamiliar home, alone, watching a couple of kids while the parents are out on their little tryst... am I right?"
A swallow audibly clicked in Cindy's throat. "What a-are you talking about?"
"Cindy, please don't patronize me, it's not a good idea," The sarcastic voice continued. "I really don't want to have to hurt you, and believe me: I can. Do we understand each other?"
"I'm s-s-orry, I'm going to have to hang up n-n-now," Cindy said, now more than a little shocked and confused.
"NO!" The man shouted sinisterly, "Don't you dare! If you so much as bump a button with your face while I'm talking to you, I will slaughter those two innocent children upstairs in the second bedroom on the right... (ha ha) and I will positively make a crime scene out of your carcass. So, DO NOT HANG UP!"
At this, Cindy fell apart into fits of shuddering sobs. "P-please, mister, I'm just the babysitter, I have nothing of value to you!"
"Oh, that is where you are so wrong, my dear. What you have of value to me is your ability to take direction and take it without fail. Understand?"
Cindy swallowed past another onset of crying and nodded. "Y-y-yes, sir. Just please don't hurt me!"
"Good. It sounds like we're both on the same page now. Good." The man said as he took in a deep breath, "Very good. OK, here's your first task: Strip.
Once again Cindy burst out in fits of blubbering tears. "S-S-STRIP! Why d-do you want me to do that... NO! No, OK, OK... without f-f-fail, I'm stripping right now."
"Very good, you remembered. Once all of your clothes are off, go into the hall closet and take out the Cannon Digital Video camera. I'll wait."
Cindy slowly, with as much shame as she felt safe enough to muster, removed her pants and T-shirt, bra and panties, and laid them over the arm of the couch.
"OK, mister, I'm n-n-naked. I'm going to get the video camera. What am I doing this f-f-for?"
The shout from the other end of the phone nearly caused Cindy to drop the phone, "NO FUCKING QUESTIONS!" JUST DO AS YOU ARE FUCKING TOLD!"
Cindy pressed her hand to her eyes and held back much of another torrent of tears that threatened to betray her. "I'm s-s-sorry. O-OK, I have the camera out. N-now what?"
"Find the cord in the bag that has a red, white, and yellow end on both sides and plug it into the camera then into the front of the DVD burner under the TV. Tell me immediately when you are finished. And HURRY!"
Suddenly, from the pocket in Cindy's pants came the muffled sounds of Fallout Boy. It was her cell! Instinctively Cindy coughed a little into the phone to cover up the noise, however little of it there was.
"Those cords better be plugged in in about five seconds or you are really not going to like the consequences!"
Cindy had no choice to let the call go to voice mail, but at least she knew now that she had an option. She quickly jammed the cords into their respective spots. "OK, uh, mister... what do I call you anyway?"
"You can call me Pitt, and I'm not putting up with anymore of your SHIT!" If you think I'm honestly giving you a name, you must be completely fucking nuts!"
Cindy cringed a little and let loose a little sob while simultaneously knocking her pants to the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... the c-c-cords are in."
"Good. Now, step three: Turn on the camera, stick a blank disk into the player, and press record on both. DO IT NOW!"
Cindy did as she was told, almost too quickly. But, before pressing record on the camera, she slunk down just a little and nudged her cell from her pants pocket. But just then the phone pressed to her ear with her left shoulder slipped.
Cindy let out a cry and deftly snatched the plummeting receiver with her other hand. She quickly pressed it back to her head and, panting quite seriously, spoke. "O-O-OK, it's done."
"You sound awfully out of breath, Cindy. I surly hope you aren't up to anything, well, potentially dangerous... FOR YOU!"
"No sir, I swear on my mother's grave," Cindy said as she kicked the now free phone a little closer to where she was standing.
"Very good. Now, step four: Lay on the couch and masturbate."
The instructions were simple, but to Cindy they were nearly impossible. She was only sixteen and had never once touched herself. Sure, she'd read about it in Cosmo, so she at least knew what it was and, for the most part, how to go about it, but it was so foreign to her that she momentarily froze. Then it occurred to her that this lunatic on the phone might not be able to actually see her, or else he'd have witnessed her messing around with her cell. She thought it was probably as good a time as any to test it.
"Masturbate. Yes, I-I-I can do that," She said as she slid onto the couch. At the same time she knelt and found her phone on the floor, an act that anyone actually watching her would definitely see.
"Nice. I knew you could. I want to see you really get into it. DO IT!"
Cindy was right, he couldn't see her. She felt much less frightened and just a bit braver. She looked at her phone, assuming it was likely her friend Kim, or her Mom. Either one would suffice as she readied to press recall.
It was neither, In fact, it was a number she didn't at once recognize. "555-0134?" She silently mouthed to herself.
"CINDY!" The voice from the other end suddenly exploded into her ear. "Cindy, dear, you have been quite naughty..."
Cindy's first assumption was that Pitt meant how naughty she was being to herself. She would quickly realize how wrong she was. Because just then it finally hit her: 555-0134 was only one number different from the phone number she was talking from.
"Oh, that's right Cindy: It turns out I'm right upstairs on the Norris' office line. Oops! I guess I failed to mention that. And, unfortunately, not only are you not doing as I ask, but, as it seems, from the very second you foolishly decided to attempt to get your own phone, I took it upon myself to murder your little, um, 'responsibilities'. Too bad!"
Cindy didn't even have the strength to scream. Her eyes suddenly went dark and rolled back into her skull as her mouth hung open in silent horror. The records of a sixteen-year old suffering a miocardial infarction are next to none, but this was one time for the books.
"I had fun though, didn't you?" The voice asked with a sickening chuckle. 'Call me!"