He watched her carefully with predatory eyes from behind the cashier's desk, lingering over the flair of her hips. She turned her back toward him, examining the racks of clothes, flicking through the blouses as she searched for her size. His gaze dropped over her narrow waist to her denim clad rear, the pockets of her jeans looked riveted to her behind and the thick seam of denim following the sensual curve between her cheeks. She abandoned the rack and moved away, glancing across at him, catching him staring at her. She said nothing, flushing slightly as she moved to the display of skirts and continued to browse. He studied her, ignoring the growing hardness in his trousers.
The shop was quiet, an ideal opportunity if only she would make a selection and ask to try it on. His heart hammered with anticipation. The hunt was on, the prey selected. Now the waiting game commenced with the quarry unaware of the predator waiting for his chance.
He studied her face: the soft fullness of her lips, the large eyes exaggerated by dark eyeliner, and the thin arch of her carefully trimmed eyebrows. Her hair fell to her shoulders in heavy waves, shrouding the sides of her face in hues of auburn. She approached him with two skirts and he pressed a secreted button beneath the counter.
"Can I try these on?" Jennifer Ashton asked.
"Certainly, booth four," He directed her attention, "On the end."
He watched her enter the booth and glanced quickly at the front door leading out into the street. She drew the curtain closed and he counted slowly to ten, his attention now firmly fixed on the entrance to the shop. When he reached ten, he threw a cautionary glance at the curtained booth before flicking an innocent looking switch under the counter. There was a brief shriek from behind the curtain, muffling the low thud, followed by a fading wail. He knocked the switch back and quickly crossed to the booth where he removed the skirts and handbag from the hooks, returning the changing room to its former innocently empty appearance.
The skirts were straightened and hung back on show and Jennifer's handbag was stowed out of sight in his holdall, discreetly tucked out of sight behind the counter. That was the last the world at large would ever see of Jennifer Ashton. The shop was ready for business again and nobody would be any the wiser.
Two days later...
Serena hurried down the narrow, bustling little street. It was lunch time and she was desperate for a new outfit. Tomorrow night she was being taken to dinner and wanted something sexy to wear without being overstated. One of the girls at the office had mentioned a boutique some time back and Serena thought it was worth a look. Her eyes scoured the small shop fronts as she fought her way through the shoppers. She spied the place, huge 'SALE NOW ON' signs plastered across the windows. An old woman scowled as Serena barged into her. She called back an apology that was lost to the river of shoppers she trying to cut across to reach the shop.
Despite the sale, the shop was quiet when she entered, a complete contrast to the shifting mass of shoppers outside. She looked around swiftly, sizing up the boutique's wares and style before deciding it was worthy of closer inspection. A couple, mother and daughter, headed across to the older gentleman behind the sales counter. Ignoring them, Serena began to look around, pulling out blouses and offering them up to herself.
She was pleasantly surprised at the prices and her search began in earnest. A dress would be nice, but might appear over the top, she needed to be careful. Mother and daughter left, guided to the door by salesman who politely opened the door for them. He turned his attention to Serena as he closed the door and asked if she needed any help. She told him what she was looking for, adding a vague description of her date, he understood and directed her to several racks of dresses that were smart without being over formal.
Serena caught the older man looking at her and smiled knowingly to herself. Men it seemed were all the same, young and old alike. He was probably old enough to be her father, but that didn't stop him from looking. She was use to the furtive glances men gave her, not only from a distance, but up close and personal too, like stealthily sneaking a peep down her top whenever the opportunity was presented to them. Serena regarded herself as worldly wise where men were concerned and knew how to play the game to her advantage. A little flirting here and there, a bit of teasing now and then, could all be turned to her advantage.
She was stuck for choice and had narrowed it down to one of two. She raised the garments up in the air, catching his attention. "Can I try these on — I really don't know which to take?"
"Booth four at the end," He pointed across to the back wall and glanced quickly at the door.
She saw the shift in his gaze and a moment of doubt crept into her mind. She was alone in the shop, about to undress herself behind a curtain — what was he thinking? The boutique was open, anyone could walk in, but was it safe? At a subconscious level she made a calculation, the distance from the counter to the changing booth was not short. He would have to lock the door and then approach; she would hear him and be ready.
Serena crossed to the booth and drew the curtain. She hung the dresses up on the hook on the wall, paused for a moment, and then carefully peeped round the crack of the curtain. He was gazing out at the street from behind the counter, lost in some distant thought. It was safe.
She turned her attention to the dresses. Suddenly the floor disappeared beneath her feet. With a loud startled cry she plummeted, her backside landing with a bump on a chute as she continued to travel down fast. Her skirt bunched around the base of her buttocks while she rocketed down the twisting chute. The journey only fleeting seconds, not time for her terror struck mind to comprehend what was happening. Abruptly she was disgorged from the chute, freefalling for a flash before her feet hit a large cushion filled with air. Her legs buckled beneath her as the cushion closed about her, bring her journey to a sudden, but smooth halt.
The cushion moved, sagged heavily under the weight of approaching bodies. Hands grabbed her, pulled her from the inflatable pillow and planted her feet first on a concrete floor. Dazed, she felt her arms being pulled back and pinned from behind.
"Stop it!" Serena cried, struggling. "Let go of me — what are you doing?"
"You don't tell me what to do. I tell you."
A man approached her, his eyes fixed on the swell of Serena's breasts beneath her blouse. With her shoulders forcibly pulled back, her chest was lewdly pushed forward, offering her breasts. She saw the intensity of the gaze on her breasts and recognised the purpose.
"Goddamn you, take your hands off me!" Serena twisted violently, kicking out in front of her. The man behind pulled her back off her feet as the one in front grabbed her legs, straddling them with his own and scissoring them.
She could not move; her body was stretched out taut diagonally up from the floor and held firmly in place. She saw the hands reach in, grabbing the front of her blouse. The buttons down the front burst open to reveal her bra. She screamed and thrashed and screamed again until she was slapped across the face and a powerful hand clamped across her mouth.
They carried her between them. The one behind quickly removed his hand from over her mouth, setting his right arm beneath her chin and across her throat, locking her jaw shut as he struggled to support her. She was hauled out of the room into a second room. The door banged loudly as it was kicked closed. The world spun as she was thrown to the ground, landing face down. Her blouse was ripped off her arms as the other began pulling off her skirt.
Now screaming again — yelling, pleading, shouting as she had never shouted in her life before, she felt her skirt disappear down her legs and her bra strap release. A hand knotted in her hair, jarring her neck and baring her throat as her head was yanked back.
"Do you want to get hurt — do you?"
"No." She pleaded.
"Well shut up then."
They wrestled her to her feet and snatched her bra away. Her arm rose instinctively to her chest to conceal herself and was instantly slapped away. Serena stood before them defiantly while they appraised her with smug satisfaction.
"Nice tits." The one told her, gloating at the two conical mounds standing boldly from her chest.
"Take your panties off." The other commanded as he stood behind her.
"No." Serena replied firmly. Without warning, his fingers gripped the waist of her underwear and tore them down. She twisted round to confront him, reaching down to grasp her panties from her knees and as she did his hand shot out, thrusting between her legs. Serena bucked away, inadvertently pushing her ass straight into the hand that came from behind.
She turned frantically, bending herself away from both men. Her panties were clawed, stretched taut in her bid to escape, and then tore free of one of her legs. Serena spun toward the door, saw her opportunity for escape and ran. In a flying rugby-style tackle she fell to the floor. He covered her legs with his body, his face pressed against the cheeks of her ass, his breath hot and moist as he climbed slowly up her torso.
He pinned her down with his weight, legs straddling hers as he raised his hips and wrestled his trousers down. She felt his hardness slap against her buttocks at its moment of freedom and knew with dread what fate immediately held in store. His knees jammed between hers, forcing her legs to open as his hard cock dropped between her thighs. He forced his knees open, spreading her legs and positioned himself.
For a brief moment she considered fighting him, denying him entry, but in the end she knew it would only be delaying the inevitable, that there would be no refusing them. His bulbous head worked into her entrance and then, as if teasing her, worked itself slowly in and out.
He was chuckling in her ear, a deep dirty laugh of satisfaction with her lack of resistance. The globes of her buttocks were deliciously soft and warm and yielding against his groin. Pushing himself into her, he relished the contrast of her dry tightness against him and the softness of her buttocks against his pelvis.
Distantly she was aware of her skin heating, the blood rising and centring between her legs. Serena gasped and lay still. Impaled on his member and held immobile by the weight of his body full-length against hers. She was helpless. Hot and full, she felt her muscles contract around his full hardness.
He rocked forward, forcing himself deeper inside her. She was tighter than anything he had felt before and he jerked roughly against her, grinding his groin hard against the two flesh mounds of soft resistance as he drove himself into her. His breathing was laboured now and he felt the sweat spring to his brow.
Serena lay still and impassive. Her breasts pressed hard against the cold floor, forehead pushed into the back of her hands clasped beneath her head, feeling him riding her and trying to ignore the discomfort of her pelvis grinding into the floor. Harder still; was ignoring the throb of anticipation growing within, and feeling herself growing smooth and loose as he moved up and down, his rhythm fast and furious. She knew from his laboured breathing, the tensing of the muscles in his arms that he was caught, trapped in the rhythm of his body, ready to shoot into her.
His rhythm broke, his body arched above her, thrusting his groin hard against her, filling her vagina with his hard rod of flesh. Her muscles contracted, squeezing him as he shot his juices deep inside her. He moaned, jerked his body, shuddering the last of himself deep into her. His body collapsed back onto hers, his head turned to rest his cheek against the nape of her neck. She could feel his heart hammering through his chest, pounding against her back. Inside, his cock wilted and slid out of her.
She felt him pull himself off, kneeling between her splayed legs. Quietly, without moving, she saw his hand snake out and gather her skirt. From the corner of her peripheral vision she saw him wiping his slick cock on her skirt and said nothing about the affront. He stood up, gathering up his trousers and dressing himself as he stepped away from her and she closed her legs.
Serena looked up sharply and was surprised to discover the second man standing by her legs. He was already undressed, his stiff cock standing out before him in anticipation. She turned herself on the cold floor, shuffling hips to make herself comfortable knowing what was coming, her hand moving to cover her breasts while the other reached between her thighs.
He smiled down at her, eyes slowly moving across her as he stood at her feet. Her hand relaxed as he nudged her feet apart with his foot, opening her legs. Through hooded eyes she watched him kneel down between her legs, forcing them further apart. He leaned over her, gathered her wrists in his hand and stretching them out above her head. His mouth moved to her breast, taking her nipple between his teeth and biting down sharply.
Trapped in a vice-like grip by her wrists, air hissed between her teeth and her knees bent reflexively. He pushed up with his hips, forcing her thighs higher and wider apart. He grinned down at her as the tip of his cock traced the cleft of her sex and lined itself up. He wriggled his hips, nudging the head of his cock inside her. She turned her head away as his face moved toward her own, and then he was pushing himself into her, spearing her on his hard cock until he filled her.
He paused, settling his body more firmly against hers and stretching his legs down between her open legs. His hand remained gripped to her wrists, ready to subdue any effort to escape. The ache of his swift invasion subsided a little, became familiar and she was conscious of the stirring in her blood, as though it were bubbling in her veins. Distantly she wondered if she was just a little afraid or worse still, a little excited.
He began pumping himself in and out of her. She felt her lips swell around him, throbbing with heat. Perversely, she deliberately tightened her muscles, feeling the delicious pressure of his swollen head pressing against the wall of her womb as he thrust inside her. He ground against her and for a moment she allowed herself to savour the sensation of being utterly filled.
She was wet and hot now, rocking her buttocks gently to greet him. He was slick with her wetness, drawing him into herself and urging him on. Caught by surprise, in the beginning throes of orgasm, he was mad to find her and this new rhythm. He slammed into her hard, pinning her groin to the floor with his own and held her, staying her body and asserting himself before continuing to rock his hips against her and re-establishing his own pace once again.
The brief moment of savouring passed. Serena lay listless beneath him, allowing him to violate and use her body as a toy for his selfish gratification. His muscles tensed, legs straining as he pushed himself up inside her. He gasped, and she felt the jet of his seed erupt deep inside her.
He was spent and she felt remorse at the guilt of her near collusion. He freed her wrists, slipping his body from her. She kept her head turned away, unwilling to meet his gaze as he pulled himself off her. They ordered her to her feet and she rose with as much dignity as she could muster. Still her eyes shamefully avoided theirs.
Gripping her firmly by the arms, they led her from the room, her torn panties clung loosely, trailing behind her from one foot as they marched her back into the room with the aircushion and out into a passage. A door opened at the top of some stairs, footsteps descended and she found herself confronted by the salesman from the boutique.
He stood before her, a thin smile across his face as he surveyed her nakedness. His eyes lingered on the trail of fluid escaping down her inner thigh. He glanced up, their eyes met, and the wanton look in his eyes told her that her ordeal was not yet over.
"Get her cleaned up, and then put her in the rack ready." He turned and headed back up the steps. "Call me when you're done."
They laughed, hauling her down the brick passage to a doorway and propelled her inside. She looked around bewildered, finding herself in a brilliantly lit ceramic tiled room. Serena turned around to face her aggressors as one of them picked up the coiled end of a hose. He directed it at her as he turned on the tap and a jet of cold water blasted toward her.
She shrieked with shock as the icy jet hit her tender flesh, backing herself away from the steady stream. They laughed at her, directing the freezing water at her until they forced her into the corner of the room. Her arms rose to protect her breasts from the jet he pointed at her. The jet switched down, aiming between her legs. She ran her hands down to shield herself and the jet flicked up, hitting her directly on the nipple.
Serena twisted around against the wall to protect herself and the blast penetrated between her buttocks while they whooped gleefully at her. The water cascaded over her, soaking her with its freezing torrent, hosing every inch of her body, especially her ass. They told her to bend. Shivering, she set her hands to the wall and pushed her bottom toward them without exposing herself, knowing the torture wouldn't be over until they had had their fun with her.
The stream of water was directed down between the deep cleft of her buttocks, driving in to drench her pussy while they giggled and joked behind her. Eventually they tired of their game and ordered her to face them with her arms open wide. She pushed herself into the corner, spiting ice cold water from her mouth and screwing her eyes tightly closed as the water hit her face. The jet moved down, circling her breasts, pounding against her twin mounds and causing them to ripple for their amusement. The icy-torrent moved down, freezing her as it forced its way between the lips of her sex.
The force subsided, her teeth chattering while she watched the torrent subside to little more than a trickle as the water was turned down. He thrust the end of the pipe at her.
"Put it in and wash yourself out."
Shivering with cold, Serena meekly pushed the pipe up between her thighs, not daring to look at either of them as they watched. She gasped from the shock of ice cold water filling her, forcing out a thick gob of creamy fluid that ran quickly down her legs and washed across the floor toward the drain. The tap was turned off and she removed the pipe. Trembling with cold, every pore of her body puckered and closed, she watched them approach her with a bar of soap.
"Turn around and spread your legs."
Serena turned and felt the hard bar of soap pass over her shoulders and down her flanks, moving in across her back. The second pair of hands worked behind the soap, covering her cold flesh and working the soap into a lather across her skin. The soap came to her buttocks, forcing its way along the crack of her ass. She whimpered as the hands continued to glide effortlessly over her naked flesh and the bar of soap moved up and down the crease of her buttocks, rubbing her anus and then moving on, deeper and down before easing out across her inner thighs.
Her torn panties were snatched off her foot and tossed aside. A face pressed to hers, staring intently at her as his vile fingers slicked down her back to thrust deep within the valley of her buttocks, probing her anus under the guise of sanitation before slipping away to knead the globes of her ample buttocks.
"You like that don't you?" He sneered in her face.
She didn't answer him, didn't have to as she found herself being spun around and pressed back against the wall, arms thrust open for the bar of soap to roam freely over the front of her body. The bar wasted little time in finding her breasts and rubbing hard against her stiff nipples. It moved down her stomach, making way for the hands that followed behind to cup and massage her breasts, pinching and tweaking at her nipples.
Serena clenched her jaw shut. The bar of soap found the curly thatch between her thighs. She whimpered, humiliated as the soap probed her and his lip curled into a sneer, pushing the soap deep between her legs. Other hands abandoned her breasts, moving down across her stomach, heading toward the patch of hair when the soap slipped down her legs. He jeered at her whining while his crude fingers dug deep into the crease of her sex and roughly ground her clitoris before thrusting savagely inside her and quickly jerking his fingers in and out of her.
They moved away from her, bade her to remain with her aching arms outstretched while the hose was retrieved and the jet of ice-cold water sluiced her down. She spread her legs wide when instructed, and allowed them to direct the hose between her legs, enduring their humiliating taunts while the freezing water washed over her. She turned gratefully so they could hose her back down until at last it was done and the water ceased to flow. They fetched a towel and briskly rubbed her down, restoring her circulation while paying particular attention to her breasts and between her legs.
When they were finished they led her down the passage to another room where she was confronted by a tall single stool and three ropes hanging from the ceiling, each with a wide leather cuff attached to the end.
"Sit on the stool."