Chapter 4: Stripped and strummed

Two days later she was in her local grocer. Picking up some fresh vegetables when a young native woman, her long blue-black hair hanging straight down to her hips, came up to her said. “I know who you are and boy am I glad you showed up. Come on.” Reaching out and grabbing her hand, Mary Jane’s new friend was dragging her slightly resisting but moving along body towards the back of the store and looking like the storage area behind it.

She pulled her through the hanging strips of grey plastic, hanging there to be a heat and cold stop. As soon as they were behind the curtain of plastic she turned to Mary Jane and said, “Hi I’m Katchia, a proud Iaxan.” She actually puffed her chest out as she spoke. Mary Jane wanted to laugh but knew better.

“I just got a call for a job interview and I need your bra.” Katchia left it hanging there. Mary Jane was trying to connect an Iaxan woman to an Eastern European name like Katchia and lost to this thinking only clued back in when she heard, ‘Need your bra’.

‘What?’ Was her first thought. Serve the people her second. Katchia said hurry up mimicking taking her tee shirt off. Then did. Just pulled it right off in front of Mary Jane revealing her naked breasts and again demanded, “Come on, hand it over, I need it more than you do.”

Mary Jane glanced around and not seeing anyone made the decision to remove her bra without removing her top and presently passed it to Katchia. “Thanks. Panties too.”

Flicking her fingers indicating give me up. Katchia was wearing a short skirt. Now that Mary Jane noticed it was maybe two inches longer than a mini shirt. Katchia would not be able to bend over without her choo choo showing.

Katchia noticed where she was looking. “Look I was just running to the mall to buy some new ones,” she hesitated, made a decision and said, “Well you’ll be family soon. I was going to steal some at the mall only I got this call and I have to get there right away. They might want me to start serving tables today. So I need your panties. Please don’t be granny panties, please.”

Mary Jane groaned and took a full look around the storage room before beginning to remove her slacks. They were tight leg slacks. She had to take her shoes off first. She felt her tits roll around as she bent to undo the buckle on the shoe.

She drew her pants down her legs. She was wearing a g-string today. She didn’t like panty lines in her slacks. She did like the feel of the material rubbing up and down her butt crack.

She didn’t want to just drop her pants onto the floor so she turned around, folded them in half and set them on a shelf. Then she turned back to Katchia as she started to remove her g-string. Katchia was further away. She had backed up another ten feet. She excitedly said hurry, acting as if she was keeping watch and had backed up for a better view.

Mary Jane removed her g. Holding it out in her extended hand towards Katchia, Katchia was motioning Mary Jane to come to her, Mary Jane hesitated and glanced around once more, “Come to me.” Mary Jane moved to her and as the two exchanged the panties between them the plastic behind Mary Jane fluttered.

Mary Janes’s face went white. Katchia broke into a smile. For some reason, Mary Jane’s hands rose to hold and cover her breasts as she turned her head to look over her shoulder to see who had entered.

Two white boys in their early twenties. They didn’t say a thing just walked up and stopped in front of Mary Jane. She would have to get past them to get her pants. One hand dropped to cover her vagina. The other arm and hand her breasts. She still hadn’t turned right around.

Katchia spoke, “I told you I could strip her down. Pay me.” Her hand out calls for the payout. The guy on the right passed over a wrinkled twenty-dollar bill.

In front of Mary Jane, Katchia took the bill into two hands and pulled to straighten the wrinkles out. It helped. She folded it half, slipped it into Mary Jane’s bra cup now on Katchia’s tits and said, “Welcome to Indian life sister.” and stepped around Mary Jane moving for the door.

Mary Jane made to follow. The boy on the right raised his arm to bar her. She stopped before it stopped her. She was betting scared. What did they want? Why had Katchia set her up? Many, many questions flew through her mind.

The boy on the left said, “Hi lady, you going to give us a little action? We have another twenty.” He bent over and kissed her neck. She pulled back. The curtains ruffled again, “Hey, what you guys doing back here.” the boys scrambled and left. Mary Jane was afraid to. The store manager turned his back so she could put her pants on.

The store manager that had interrupted whatever that was and after Mary Jane convinced him not to call the police, however, he did walk her to her car. She got out of there.

She had tickets booked for the symphony. They were expensive. She only had one ticket. No date and she was going to enjoy the evening.

The two-minute warning had been given. She was seated in the third seat of a four-seat row. One row from the back of the theatre. They fell into the chairs on each side of her like the drunken bums they appeared to be and certainly smelt like.

They both wore black tee shirts with Comanche emblazoned across the chest. They each had on black leather vests, blue jeans and cowboy boots. Their hair was long, black and greasy. They were Indians and had to weigh over three hundred pounds each.

Their shoulders both crowded hers. She wanted to move. The orchestra was starting. They were so tall their knees were jammed into the chair in front of them, boxing her in place. She wanted to stay and hear the music. She loved this orchestra and this evening’s card.

The man to her left released an atrociously loud bowel movement. For sure he would have to wipe. Their immediate compatriots either chuckled or groaned but everyone heard it. Mary Jane flushed in shame for the indigenous man beside her. Then the scent emerged.

More groaning, the music was escalating in cadence. She had to get out of there and stood. Immediately the people in the back condemned her. The man to her right didn’t move an iota, she sat back down. The man to her left, the stinker bent to speak into her ear.