American society today is a complex one, beset by many problems and perils. Certainly not least among the many burning issues of the day is the question of violent crime and its impact upon our society and citizens. We have come to live in an age when sporadic, mindless violence may strike at anyone, anyplace, anytime. Such daily pressure and tension is bound to have a profound effect upon everyone who experiences it, and certainly those whose lives are touched by the plague of crime may never again be the same.
This is a story of one such incident, one such violent crime. Uniquely, it seeks no generalized answers to the foibles and problems of society, nor are any overall solutions to the present crime wave offered by the author. Instead, this is a story of individuals, living, breathing people, snatched abruptly from their everyday routine and swept up into the web of violence and danger without advance warning of any sort.
This, in short, is a story of today, as real and vital as tomorrow's headlines. Its drama has been enacted in real life many times over the past few years, and, given the temper of our times, will undoubtedly be enacted many times more. We seek here, rather than pat answers and easy solutions, some insight into the human psyche, and the ways in which ordinary people react when their very existence is placed in jeopardy.
Join the author, then, on a journey into the human mind, a probing of true-life experience which may, hopefully, shed some light upon the saint and sinner, the human
and the beast within us all. Names and locations have been suitable altered to protect innocent survivors; otherwise, the story is a true one.
-The Publishers
CHAPTER ONE
Jennifer Hunt sighed deeply as she watched the hands of the office clock creep slowly around the dial toward closing time. She shook her head tiredly, as she did every Friday at this time, marveling even after five years at the Central City Bank how the last half hour of the last day of the week seemed to take forever in passing.
Jennifer smiled as the bank management's advertising slogans came unbidden to her mind. "We're open later to serve you better," the commercials proclaimed to one and all, and so they were. Normal bankers' hours throughout the week, but remaining open until 6 p.m. on Fridays for the convenience of working men who needed to cash their weekly paychecks. Still... Jennifer supposed it was only fair to the customers, and she certainly couldn't complain about the overtime pay she received every Friday.
Still, it wasn't really the hours that bothered Jennifer about Fridays, but the waiting. Waiting to get off and begin the mixture of relaxation and leisure exertion which marked her weekends, and... at the bank... waiting for trouble.
"Trouble," in the banking business, could come in one of three major forms. Embezzlement and "paper hangers"... the bad check artists... could strike at any time of any day, but statistics clearly demonstrated that the third and most serious sort of trouble... armed robbery... was more likely to happen near the end of the working day on Friday. The reasons were simple and abundantly clear; last minute deposits, the hustle and bustle of cashing and depositing paychecks at week's end, and the presence on hand of a week's accumulated funds, all made banks a prime target for armed and desperate criminals as the working week drew into its final hours. The "smart crooks" always hit a bank when the most money was there to be had. You could ask any policeman and find that out.
Still, the threat of robbery was not Jennifer Hunt's primary concern on this particular Friday. True, a three-man team of bandits, cutely dubbed "The Musketeers" by local detectives, had struck a different bank every Friday for the past four weeks, but there were hundreds of banks in Los Angeles, and Central City was neither the largest nor the best-known of the lot. No, a more personal concern was weighing upon Jennifer's mind as that seemingly endless workday finally drew to its tardy close.
She was worried... well, concerned... about Paul Roberts. She had been seeing Paul, what the kids would have called "going steady," for about four months now. She liked him very much, and, in fact, she had a date with him following work that very evening. Perhaps, she admitted finally to herself, it was her upcoming date with Paul more than anything else which had contributed to her prevailing tension and uneasiness throughout that afternoon.
Jennifer had been out with Paul only the night before, and memory of that ill-fated date came back now to haunt her as she nervously shuffled through stacks of hundred-dollar bills, preparing for the final counting out of the day. She performed the counting almost automatically, as if by instinct, and her mind was completely free to review the previous night's events. At once they seemed so real that she felt as if she was actually reliving the events.
She had gone with Paul to dinner and a movie, and at first everything had seemed to be going very nicely. The dinner was fine, served by tuxedoed waiters at an especially elegant little restaurant Paul knew of, and both the food and the service were excellent. The movie was a different story however. It was a modernistic film, with an emphasis on sexual relationships which was a bit too blatant for Jennifer's taste. Still, she was adjusting to the nudity and near-nudity displayed before her on the screen, and trying to tell herself that she really must get more in touch with the times, when something happened to startle and shock her.
Paul had been holding her hand throughout the feature, and now, as a particularly torrid love scene was being enacted before them on the screen, he suddenly released her hand to place his warm palm on her thigh. There was nothing particularly unusual in the gesture, for he had touched her there several times before, but Jennifer was horrified to find Paul's hand sliding upward now, the fingertips sliding beneath the hem of her short skirt.
Jennifer stifled a little gasp, her eyes jerking downward to where Paul's hand was slowly insinuating itself beneath her outer clothing. She turned her gaze to the man's face, and to her surprise she found he was watching the screen with apparent rapt attention, as if unconscious of his own advances even as he was making them.
The hand edging beneath Jennifer's skirt moved on, seemingly with a mind of its own. She clenched her firm young thighs together in defensive reaction, but the movement seemed to be totally ineffective in stopping the manual advances of her date. Paul's hand was almost completely beneath the protective material of her skirt now, and a wave of conflicting emotions washed over her at the touch of his hard palm upon the tender flesh of her soft inner thigh.
Jennifer mentally debated whether she should seize Paul's hand and drag it from beneath her skirt, and for a moment she actually contemplated slapping his face. On second thought, however, she dreaded making such a scene in a public place, and she still felt she could control the situation without resorting to such overtly harsh measures. And so, her pretty young jaw set in iron-willed determination, Jennifer clenched her legs even more tightly together, unyielding in her resolve to stop Paul's marauding hand before he went too far.
Paul's other arm had been thrown casually around Jennifer's shoulders, and now, as his invading hand continued its inching progress beneath her skirt, he shifted position slightly, bringing his free hand farther over her shoulder so that the fingertips dangled limply mere inches from the mounding swell of her firm young breast.
So occupied was Jennifer's attention with the searching hand edging its way up the tanned column of her thigh that she entirely missed the significance of Paul's movement with the other hand. Not until the straying fingertips brushed casually across the upper swell of her left breast did she realize that her date had maneuvered her into a position where he could fondle and caress her from both sides at the same time.
Jennifer was about to abandon her embarrassment and give voice to stern protest when the tips of her boyfriend's searching fingers made sudden, jarring contact with the silken crotch band of her skimpy little panties. She knew in her mind that she should be horrified by the intimacy of that unbidden caress, especially since she and Paul had never done more than some casual kissing in the past, and yet there was some dynamic, burning quality in the caress which stilled her protestations.
Slowly, massaging in a rotary motion against the filmy veil which shielded Jennifer's cuntal mound, Paul manipulated her tingling crotch almost absentmindedly, all the while keeping his eyes fastened intently on the movie screen in front of them. Jennifer followed his example, first casting a furtive glance at the rows of seats immediately around them, fearing that some member of the audience might be watching them, noting Paul's lewd caresses and the manner in which she accepted them without apparent protest.
I really must stop this at once, she told herself, stiffening in her seat as she prepared to hiss an angry word of censure at Paul. Something stopped her, however, as her roving gaze fell momentarily on the movie screen and was frozen there instantly by what she saw.
The couple on the giant-sized bed in front of her were both completely nude. They lay side by side, idly caressing each other as they shared a deep soul kiss of mounting passion. In the flash of an instant it seemed to Jennifer that she had memorized the position of those filmed lovers, and when she shut her eyes tight against the spectacle of their arousal she could still see every curve, witness every languorous motion, as if they were emblazoned in fire on the inside of her eyelids.
Jennifer opened her eyes again, and drew her breath in in a sudden gasp of shock and amazement. What sort of movie had Paul brought her to? Could they really portray such explicit acts of sexuality on the screen? In public?
The giant man before them was avidly sucking and tonguing one of his partner's firm, full breasts. He captured her stiffened little nipple between his teeth and lashed it with the tip of his red tongue as the camera zoomed in for an agonizingly detailed close-up shot.
Jennifer found herself beginning to tremble where she sat, stunned and amazed to realize that the cinematic sex displayed before her eyes was actually starting to affect her. She would not- could not-allow herself the thought that she might actually be becoming sexually aroused by the combination of the film and Paul's licentious caress.
For one incredible instant, it seemed to Jennifer that she could actually feel and experience the actions which she was watching on the screen. She felt her own nipples stiffen involuntarily as she watched the woman on the screen writing beneath her lover's oral assault, and it almost seemed that she could feel a tingling caress at her own breast.
Glancing down, unwilling to accept the evidence of her own senses, Jennifer was astounded to see that Paul's free hand was now idly circling the entire mounding orb of her breast, lazily caressing her tingling flesh through the thin almost-protection of her light blouse and skimpy brassiere. Although her initial reaction was one of outrage, Jennifer could not deny that she derived some strange masochistic pleasure from watching a man's hand circling over her own body, probing and caressing, and her little nipple sprang into instant rigidity under the combination of mental and physical stimulation.
This is really going too far, she reminded herself, actually turning toward Paul now, the words of angry protest already forming on her full lips. As if on cue, his other hand chose that very moment to cup her cuntal mound and begin massaging it with a firm, milking gesture. Burning ripples of unexpected sensual pleasure emanated outward from Jennifer's young pussy, fanning upward and across her quivering abdomen to center in the tingling little buds of her erect nipples.
Instead of the angry protest she had planned to voice, a mingled groan and sigh escaped from Jennifer Hunt's moist lips. She shook her head as if to clear it, determined to resist the unknown feelings which now threatened to take over her suddenly rebellious body and incite her to still higher plateaus of unaccustomed lust. She ground her full, firm buttocks downward into the yielding cushion of her chair, seeking in vain to quench the budding flames of desire which Paul Roberts' lewd caress had ignited in her tingling little cunt.
Jennifer's tremulous efforts had exactly the opposite effect from what she had wished. The downward thrusting movement served only to pull her skimpy little panties tighter against her burning crotch, thereby giving Paul's probing fingers greater access to her pussy mound through the tightly stretched material. It seemed that his fingertips were now able to define and follow every contour and furrow of her hair-fringed cuntal lips, pressing and probing as he massaged every portion of her trembling young crotch.
Jennifer found herself breathing more rapidly than ever, and she instinctively recognized the signs of advancing arousal. Paul's fingers had fastened themselves upon the straining little nipple bud of her captive breast, rolling it with agonizing slowness between thumb and forefinger in a lewd rhythm which send alternating chills and hot flashes streaking across her belly and on to her cunt.
The trembling young woman could feel a fine, cold sweat breaking out all over her quaking body, and it seemed to her that she must surely find some relief from her mounting tension or else faint dead away. Her eyes nervously swept the audience, . fearing that somewhere nearby they might collide with the lecherous gaze of a stranger who had sighted in on her predicament and decided to feast his eyes upon her torment.
She found no one watching, but the knowledge brought on no sense of security. It still seemed that Paul's lecherous advances were bound to attract some attention in such an openly public place.
One more Jennifer's eyes fell on the wide screen before her, and again startled breath caught in her throat. The lovers sprawling there had progressed greatly in their own lovemaking while Paul's hands were finding the way and the courage to move ever more freely upon her own young body in the darkness of the theater.
On screen, the man had moved into a position atop his curvaceous young bedmate, his hips moving now in a rhythmic fucking motion. Jennifer had no way of telling whether or not the couple was actually making love or only simulating the act, but in any case the sight was enough to send renewed quivers of long-suppressed erotic desire shooting through her young woman's body.
Jennifer Hunt heaved a deep sigh as she felt her body begin to automatically relax under Paul's searching, massaging hands. Her full thighs seemed to fall gracefully, instinctively apart without any conscious effort on her part, and when she attempted to close them again in protective reaction she found herself strangely incapable of doing so.
Paul, meanwhile, was obviously encouraged by Jennifer's apparent surrender to his manual assault. The fingers of one hand tightened upon her straining little nipple until a cry of startled pain was almost wrenched from her lips. At the same time, his other hand moved more forcefully against the soft swell of Jennifer's cuntal mound, probing and massaging those soft, pouting nether lips until her full young hips began to squirm involuntarily.
The crotchband of Jennifer's panties had grown moist against the palm of Paul's hand, and he could sense her impending surrender to total sensual desire. Still he made no notice of her condition, keeping his eyes glued to the screen in front of them with an air of studied indifference, as if ignorant that his lewd caresses were driving the young woman next to him into a state of near-frenzy.
Jennifer blushed furiously in the darkness of the theater as she felt her own vaginal secretions soaking through the thin material of her skimpy bikini panties. She gritted her teeth together in a futile effort to stifle the rampant and rebellious emotions then raging through her young body, giving up after a long, agonizing moment when it became clear to her that she had long since passed the point of no return. She was now simply unable to offer effective resistance to Paul's lecherous manual assault upon her trembling body.
The fingers of Paul's searching hand were tugging and pulling at the moist, filmy crotchband of her panties, almost angrily seeking more direct contact with the barely hidden nether lips of Jennifer's hot little pussy. At last, apparently in a minor rage of frustration, Paul hooked two fingers through the filmy material and yanked it away, tearing open the crotch of her undergarment with a distinctive ripping sound of tearing cloth.
Jennifer let out a little gasp of horrified surprise. She was certain that everyone in the crowded theater must have heard the sound made by Paul as he ripped away the crotchband of her moist panties. Her eyes darted about her, but she was greatly surprised to find no one at all even glancing in her direction. Directly, however, she had other concerns, as Paul's hot fingers made their first tingling, jarring contact with the naked flesh of her virginal little cunt.
Jennifer clamped her thighs tightly together in a stern last-ditch effort to resist that ultimate invasion of her private loins. Paul's hand had already found the hidden treasure of her cunt, however, and her latest move served only to force that searching hand into closer conjunction with the pouting little nether lips of her cunt.
Jennifer fleetingly thought she heard Paul utter a small gasp as his fingertips grazed the moist outer flesh of her vaginal lips, but when she hurriedly turned to assess his reaction, she found him still watching the movie with rapt attention, seemingly unconscious to the world around him. She was angered and more than a little insulted at his cavalier attitude, though at the same time the sheer casualness of his approach stirred something wild and wanton deep in the pit of her churning little belly.
Paul's thumb and thick forefinger were working in rhythm now, pressing her cuntal lips apart, gently but insistently probing within at the pink, tender flesh of her inner pussy. Great burning waves of sensation rocked her frame, causing Jennifer to close her eyes tightly and cling to the wooden arms of her seat as the room seemed to tip and reel around her.
When the man's broad thumb made sudden burning contact with Jennifer's budding little clitoris, it was all she could do to restrain herself from screaming her arousal aloud into the darkened atmosphere of the movie house. Her full thighs alternately relaxed and clamped together, then relaxed again, gapping open to allow those marvelously wicked fingers even greater access to her steaming box.
Her spine arched sinuously outward from the chair as first one of his fingertips and then another sought stinging entry to the puckered little orifice of her vaginal canal. Her mind seemed to reel before the overpowering lustful sensations that intimate touch evoked, and her breath came in short panting gasps. The pain from her pinched little nipple had completely subsided by now, giving way to a warm, radiating sensual heat that quickly enveloped her upper torso and complemented the churning sensations from her tight pussy.
Almost unconsciously Jennifer had begun to slowly and erotically undulate her supple young torso, moving in time to the tentative fucking rhythm of Paul's invading finger. She winced slightly as those digits entered hitherto untouched territory in her virginal cunt, but she was surprised to find that the coralline flesh there quickly moistened and dilated to accommodate the pleasurable invasion. The interior muscles of her pussy had already picked up their own tempo, clasping and unclasping around the tips of Paul's fingers in an erotic milking gesture of longing.
Jennifer could scarcely focus her slitted eyes upon the screen, but from the vague image which swam before her she gathered that the fucking couple portrayed there were on the verge of their own riotous and simultaneous orgasm. The sound track of the film was all groans and sighs, accompanied now and then by a moist slushing sound which Jennifer could not exactly identify. And yet, in her mind's eye, she knew that the erotic sound must come from one source only-the conjunction of male and female genitals in the driving, pounding rhythm of pure animalistic sex.
So enraptured was Jennifer by Paul's manipulating touch upon the nether lips of her pussy that she scarcely noticed the altered position of his other hand upon the proud swell of her breast. She did not notice his fingers there, fumbling with the tiny buttons which held her blouse closed, and had no forewarning of his intent to partially undress her until she felt the cool air of the refrigerated theater washing across the naked flesh of her upper breasts.
Paul had opened the top three buttons of Jennifer's thin blouse, and the young woman gasped in shocked amazement as she glanced down to find his hand already slipping inside her blouse. Without hesitation, and with almost practiced ease, Paul's hand slipped inside the lacy cup of her bra, seeking and finding at once the stiffly erect bud of her straining little nipple.
Once again Jennifer looked frantically about, terrified now that someone must surely see her in a state of partial nudity, the barely covered mound of her ripe young breast exposed in the semi-darkness of the theater and being avidly massaged by her companions heated palm.
There was little time to concentrate on her mounting embarrassment, however, for the vibrant sensations from Jennifer's tight little pussy and the stiff bud of her nipple which Paul was rolling between thumb and forefinger combined to overpower her sense of propriety.
A loud, soul-wrenching moan of ecstasy seemed to fill the theater all around Jennifer, and for one chilling moment she feared that the sound might have come unbidden and unconsciously from her own straining throat. When her frightened eyes snapped open again, however, she found the sound to have issued from the sound track of the film, matching the frenzied contortions of the wildly fucking couple on the screen before her gaze. The giant man and his curvaceous lover were locked together in a rigid trembling embrace, their hips buffeting together with blinding rapidity as they drove each other onward to mutual, overwhelming orgasm.
Paul's searching fingers seemed to draw greater inspiration from the inciteful drama being enacted there on the screen. His thick fingers probed ever deeper into the moist recesses of Jennifer's pussy, until one digit made sudden tingling contact with her burning little clitoral bud. Again the searing sensations of impending total abandonment rocked Jennifer, and she found herself squirming and writhing involuntarily in her seat. A throaty chuckle sounded from somewhere to her rear, and she could not tell whether that voice was raised in nervous laughter at the spectacle on the screen or at some glimpse of her own predicament, but she was too far gone to seriously care.
Despite the silent shouted protests of her mind, both of her hands crept stealthily downward to her pumping crotch, springing forward suddenly to imprison Paul's driving hand and force those wonderful plundering fingers ever deeper into her own moist and tingling flesh. She clenched her teeth tightly in a rictus of frustrated desire as he seized the nub of her clit between thumb and forefinger, even as he held her nipple with his other hand, and began the same taunting, tantalizing rotary massage.
Jennifer began to tremble uncontrollably in her seat, as the dual sensations caused by the simultaneous manipulation of her clit and her tight little nipple combined to fan her erotic flame into a raging forest fire of pure animal lust. She felt the tremors of her orgasmic explosion begin as an almost painful tightness in her bowels, spreading slowly outward to be replaced by a fierce heat fanning upward across her cuntal plane and beyond. Paul sensed the explosion coming, reading the signals given off by her breathing, the writhing of her torso, and the convulsions of those tight internal muscles within her cunt. He saw the explosion coming, yes, and redoubled his manual efforts accordingly as he fought to drive his young female companion over the edge to total, mindbreaking sensual release.
Jennifer Hunt came with sudden, brainreeling sensual fury. Every muscle in her lush young body was tautly stretched, strained to the breaking point as she rocked in her seat and rode those wild, erotic waves of totally abandoned desire. The flaming sensations evoked by Paul's agonizing grasp upon her rigid little nipple bud, and the churning, plunging assault of his skewering fingers upon her palpitating cunt set her jouncing and quivering in her theater seat, unmindful of what anyone else in the audience might see, think or hear.
It seemed to Jennifer that her orgasm must have lasted for hours, so powerful were the waves of intense erotic sensation. A low, ululating groan was squeezed from her tense throat as she desperately fought down the desire to scream her sensual pleasure aloud into the theater darkness, and she clenched her firm young thighs rigidly around Paul's rapidly pistoning hand. Her hot, steaming cum seemed to pour from her cuntal orifice in dazzling waves, and for an instant she had the distinct impression she was awash in a sea of her own heady love secretions.
The moment began slowly to pass, and Jennifer collapsed back limply in her seat with a deep sigh of contentment. Opening her eyes slowly, she found that the movie was just ending, and the house lights beginning to come up to greater brightness as patrons began to leave the theater. She flushed bright crimson and glanced rapidly about her in an almost frenzied effort to assure that no one should inadvertently witness her condition, nor see Paul's avid hands probing beneath her disarrayed garments.
His hands were suddenly withdrawn, and as she glanced over at the man who had just driven her to shattering orgasm, Jennifer was both amazed and angered to find him rising to leave, smiling down at her and waiting for her to join him for all the world as if nothing whatsoever had happened there in the darkness. She glanced about her once more, noticing this time that a man standing in the row in front of her was staring at her intently. She followed his eyes to the area of her swelling young breasts, and found to her dismay that her blouse was still half unbuttoned and hanging open, fully exposing the soft curve of her upper breasts in the lacy half restraint of her thin bra. Gasping and blushing with embarrassment she snatched the front of her clothing together, and hurried to rise and follow Paul from the theater.
Hardly a word was spoken as he drove her on the long route home to her apartment. Several times she had worked up the anger and nerve to reprimand him for his wanton behavior in the theater, but each time her courage failed her at the last moment and she subsided into grim silence. He made no effort to break that silence as he drove along, and before she knew it they were parking in front of her apartment building.
Paul escorted her to her front door as he always did, and she fidgeted uneasily from one foot to another as she waited for him to make some statement or reference to the torrid events of their evening out. Instead of speaking, however, he stepped forward, bringing his lean, hard body close to hers, and suddenly enfolded her in his arms.
Jennifer's first impulse was to fight off his advances, but she found herself unable to break free from the iron embrace in which he held her. Her arms were pinned tightly to her sides, leaving his broad hands free to roam at will over her back and downward to the firm round swell of her perfect buttocks. As she squirmed against him in her struggle for freedom, the young girl became instantly aware of his rigid penis, jutting hotly against her own aching loins through the material of their restraining clothing. Her every slightest move seemed to bring her little crotch into closer conjunction with that pulsing rod of male flesh, and she imagined that she could feel it lurching impatiently against her own body like some trapped wild animal.
Paul smothered her budding cry of protest with a deep, searching soul kiss, his tongue entering her surprised mouth to find her own tongue, enticing it into an angry little duel of mounting intensity. At the same time his palms moved all the more freely over the planes and angles of her body, seeking and finding once more the proud mounding swell of her taut young tits.
Jennifer felt her legs weaken, going suddenly rubbery as Paul wantonly massaged her rigid breasts right there in the brightly lit hallway of her apartment building. She briefly renewed her struggles at the thought that someone-perhaps one of her friends or neighbors-might happen upon them at any moment and find her in Paul's lustful embrace, but she thought that someone-perhaps one of her friends or neighbors-might happen upon them at any moment and find her in Paul's lustful embrace, but she thought then of the late hour, and the realization that all of her neighbors were probably fast asleep and unlikely to chance upon her there in the corridor. That self-assurance led her to relax slightly, and she found herself forced to admit that the touch of Paul's wandering hands upon her warm young body was not entirely unwelcome.
She stiffened as his hands slid away from the tingling fullness of her breasts and descended to her waist and hips. Without hesitation or restraint he seized two handsful of her skirt material, and began unceremoniously to hoist her short skirt even higher up the tanned columns of her firm thighs. Jennifer gasped in shocked outrage, pushing ineffectually against Paul's broad and muscular chest, twisting in a futile effort to escape from his clutches even as he stepped forward, pinning her back against the wall.
Jennifer's skirt was up around her hips now, and she was acutely conscious of the cool night air washing over the damp mound of her crotch, no longer protected in the least by the shredded crotchband of her flimsy little panties. Paul's hands took their own agonizing time, lightly circling and fondling the full orbs of her taut buttocks, then sliding around to meet at the furred juncture of her legs.
The renewed touch of his active fingers upon her moistening cuntal lips caused Jennifer to tremble uncontrollably. It seemed as if her legs had suddenly turned into rubber, and she was forced to cling tightly to Paul's broad shoulders to keep from falling. Her mind cried out to her to stop this licentious outrage before it was too late, but her rebellious young body seemed to have a mind of its own, a mind wholly in accord with Paul's lewd plans and advances.
Jennifer shuddered spasmodically as Paul's stiff fingers began to probe the tight little mouth of her vaginal opening, seeking and finding the burning little bud of her aching clitoris. That slightest touch set off tremors of lustful excitement racing through Jennifer's young body, and she could feel her torso begin to undulate unconsciously, accommodating itself instinctively to the rhythm of Paul's wandering, plundering hands.
A little sob of mingled shame and passion was wrenched from the young woman's throat as she felt the last remnants of her resolve slipping quickly away. She knew in her heart of hearts that she would be powerless to resist anything that Paul might try with her now, and if he were to force her back inside her apartment, rip off her clothing and fuck her with animalistic fury, there would be nothing she could do but blindly receive the fruits of his passion.
The involuntary fucking rhythm of Jennifer's lower body faltered slightly as Paul withdrew one of his hands from the steamy morass of her pubic triangle. At first she did not understand exactly what he was doing, although he seemed to be fumbling with his own clothing now, but when she heard the metallic rasp of a zipper being lowered she knew in an instant what shocking plans he had in mind.
Paul planned to fuck her right there, standing up in the hallway of her own apartment building!
A mewling little cry of feeble protest was forming at the back of Jennifer's throat when a new and intense sensation made itself felt between her widely splayed thighs. Paul had moved still closer to her, bringing his hips into close conjunction with her own squirming loins. Suddenly she detected a new presence at her cuntal lips, a prodding, probing entity, which she at first mistook for one of his thick fingers.
A second's reconsideration assured Jennifer that, from the size of the hot fleshy object jamming itself between her thighs, it could hardly be any part of Paul's hand. The sudden realization struck her with stunning force, and she was at once repelled and fascinated, thrilled, by the knowledge that his naked cock was now jutting from the fly of his trousers and probing lewdly into the dew-moistened valley of her own lightly-furred little cunt. For a split second she was almost overwhelmed by a pagan desire to glance downward and feast her eyes upon that rod of rampant penile flesh, but she never got the chance.
An alien sound from down the hallway startled both Paul and Jennifer into the realization that they were no longer alone. While the young woman tended to panic, brushing madly to straighten the rumpled front of her skirt, Paul calmly turned his back to the elevator-the source of the noise-and casually proceeded to tuck his rigid penis back into the confines of his pants. For a fleeting instant Jennifer imagined that she had caught the briefest glimpse of the unfettered male flesh, the thick mushroom-shaped glans an angry purple in the dim light of the corridor, its tip surmounted by a milky drop of what she supposed must be male lubricant fluid.
Paul had barely managed to close his zipper over the raging shaft of his cock, and was turning back toward Jennifer with a purposefully casual smile, when the elevator doors sighed open and an elderly couple from down the hall stepped out, heading toward their own apartment door. It seemed that they lingered overly long with their keys at the lock, as if waiting and listening for some hint of trouble or scandal concerning Paul's presence there with Jennifer at such an hour.
Jennifer seized the opportunity to break away before her own young woman's body could betray her further. She gave Paul a quick, almost sisterly peck on the cheek and quickly retreated to the door of her apartment. Paul flashed that same infuriatingly casual smile at her, and quietly said, "I'll pick you up tomorrow night at seven."
It was not a question, nor even an invitation, but simply a statement of acknowledged fact, and then he was gone, whistling softly down the corridor before Jennifer could formulate any response to his announcement. She slammed the door harder than was necessary behind her, and stalked across her living room toward the bathroom. She found herself suddenly in desperate need of an icy cold shower, and she knew not whether it was from Paul's high-handed ways or from the insipient lust brought on by his expert fondling and manipulation of her breasts and naked little pussy.
The memories of last night flooded in upon Jennifer's mind with startling clarity and reality, almost as if she were there in that darkened theater again, watching herself and Paul as the lovers on the giant screen. She noted with more than a little discomfort and embarrassment that the tiny little nipples of her breasts were hardening into tingling rigidity, chafing against the material of her bra, and there was a now-familiar wetness dampening the silken crotchband of her bikini panties.
. . me please, Miss?" The quiet male voice intruded upon Jennifer's own licentious daydreams, jarring her mind back instantly to the reality of place and time.
A medium sized man with freckled face and a thick head of curly red hair was watching her intently over the chest-high teller's counter of the bank. No, on second thought, it seemed that he was more intent upon the money, the hundred dollar bills Jennifer had been counting, than he was upon her.
She had not heard his question, and she blushed with embarrassment as she said, "I beg your pardon?"
The man grinned, a cold, somehow uncomfortable smile which seemed to distort his face rather than enlighten it. When he spoke Jennifer noticed that his lips barely moved, remaining stretched tight over his square yellow teeth as he talked.
"I said, could you help me please?" the man repeated, a tone of hollow amiability in his voice.
Jennifer's own practiced smile faltered slightly, and she cast a point glance at the time clock as she answered him. "Of course, sir."
It was three minutes to closing time, and as her eyes scanned quickly around the bank, she was happy to note that only this man and two others remained to be waited upon. Each of the other two was engaged in conversation with the two female tellers who shared her shift, and she heaved a tired little sigh of relief as she told herself that they would all get off work on time after all.
When she looked back to the man at her window, she found that he had placed a large linen bag or pillowcase on the counter in front of her. He was still smiling, and from the unmoving lips came the advice that, "I want to make a withdrawal."
Jennifer nodded. "Certainly, sir," she replied. "May I see your passbook, please?"
The red haired man's smile broadened another fraction as he stepped back from the counter and let his dark overcoat fall open in front. With one fluid motion he swung a dark, stubby object up and into view from beneath his right arm, and Jennifer was stunned to find herself facing the dual, deadly snake eyes of a sawed-off double-barreled shotgun!
"Here's my passbook, bitch!" the man grated, all the while still grinning at her. "And I'm withdrawing my entire account, every goddamn penny. Now fill up that fucking bag on the double, and start with those big bills!"
Jennifer nodded dumbly, noting as she moved to obey that the other two men in the bank were now brandishing weapons as well, snarling and gesturing at the other young women as they waited for identical pillowcases to be filled with cash. Jennifer felt her mind reeling, consciousness threatening to slip away as the sheer terror of the moment flooded inescapably in upon her.
And then, at the instant when blind panic seemed about to seize control of her mind and body, Jennifer was reminded of the training she had received during her first week as a teller at the bank. In case of a robbery, remain calm, do whatever the gunmen demand, and press the silent alarm if possible!
Slowly, all the while grasping bundled stacks of hundred and fifty dollar bills to thrust into the waiting sack, Jennifer edged her toes toward the raised floor button of the silent alarm. She found it at last, and rocked her foot across it, imagining the clamor downtown at the police precinct house as the distress signal registered there. With luck, officers could be on the scene to make an arrest before the outlaws could get too far away from the bank.
Oh God, Jennifer prayed silently, let them come soon!
CHAPTER TWO
The passing minutes seemed to drag like hours as Jennifer Hunt kept flicking her eyes nervously toward the broad front windows of the bank. It seemed to be taking the police forever to arrive, and the trio of robbers certainly seemed to be in no hurry at all, judging from their actions.
Jennifer had been the first of the three tellers to finish emptying out her cash drawer, and the red-haired man had withdrawn slightly to watch the other young women as they stuffed their respective pillowcases with bundles of crisp new currency. He rarely even bothered to glance at Jennifer, and when he did, she seemed to sense some undefined gloating attitude behind his impassive face which filled her with secret loathing.
The bandits worked in almost total silence, except for an occasional admonition for more speed directed to the other tellers. Betty Simmons, the girl closest to Jennifer, seemed to be taking it all quite well, preserving her outer facade of calm in the face of their mutual danger. Young Barbara Nelson however, stationed at the far end of the long counter, seemed almost on the verge of hysteria. She was sobbing fitfully, her spasmodic breathing causing her full breasts to jiggle in the confines of her tight, low-cut dress. As usual, Barbara had come to work braless, proud that her round young tits needed no artificial support, and Jennifer noticed now how the outlaw nearest to Barbara was staring intently at the exposed shadow of her ample cleavage.
The man admired Barbara's full young breasts so openly that Jennifer would not have been amazed to find him licking his lips. She mentally thanked her lucky stars that the bandits would have no time to do more than scoop up their bags of stolen cash and beat a hasty retreat. Otherwise... she shuddered inwardly at the thought of what such desperate men might be capable of under these circumstances.
Jennifer allowed her eyes to scan the other two members of the tiny gang, well aware that any details she could remember now might be of use to the police and the courts later on. The man presently ogling Barbara Nelson was a total opposite from the bandit at her window: tall and dark, with long black hair greased and slicked back from his face in a style that more properly belonged to the early Fifties. A long, jagged scar ran from the corner of his left eye all the way to his jaw line, and that ancient wound was somehow more frightening to Jennifer than the long-barreled chrome revolver he held in his fist.
The last of the men, the one now intently watching Betty Simmons, was of moderate height and rather heavy-set with curly brown hair, mirrored sunglasses, and a drooping handlebar mustache which effectively obliterated his upper lip. He, too, was armed with a pistol, and Jennifer recognized the weapon from its rectangular shape as a large automatic of some kind.
Jennifer's bandit, the redhead with the shotgun, seemed to be in charge. He was becoming impatient, his eyes flicking nervously from the scene within the bank to the empty sidewalk beyond the broad windows, with an occasional furtive glance to his wristwatch. At last, when he could seem to stand the tension no longer, he raised his voice in a hoarse, croaking call for attention.
"That's it!" he shouted. "Duke, Frankie, we're wasting too much time. Let's take what we've got and get the hell out of here!"
As if on cue, a black-and-white police cruiser slid to a halt at the curb outside. Jennifer saw it first, but the red-haired bandits recognition of the new peril came only a split second later, and he turned smoothly, no longer seeming nervous at all, as he swung his stubby shotgun into the coming confrontation.
Two young officers were climbing out of the patrol car, and Jennifer gasped in disbelief as she saw that they seemed to be smiling and joking with each other. They strode easily toward the double front doors of the bank, guns holstered, as if nothing in the world was wrong. Jennifer felt a sudden overwhelming urge to shout out a warning, but one glance at the poised weapons of the three bandits stifled the budding cry in her throat.
The two young officers had reached the door of the bank now, and were pushing their way inside, still chatting together in carefree fashion. Only after the glass double doors had swung quietly shut behind them did they seem to take stock of their situation, and by then it was far too late. The red-haired bandit uttered a short, barking laugh as he snapped his shotgun up to shoulder height, calmly squeezing off both barrels of the stubby weapon in one tremendous, ear-splitting blast.
Jennifer clapped her hands to her ears as the entire room seemed to reverberate with thunder. Before her stunned eyes the tableau of action seemed to lag into slow motion. The robber was rocking backward on his heels under the terrific recoil of his powerful weapon, and the two young patrolmen were stumbling and falling, like clumsy straw men caught off balance in a high wind. Jennifer watched, horrified, as they sprawled awkwardly across the floor, tumbling and rolling in their own blood as they died.
The long crimson streamers of blood marking floor and walls snapped Jennifer Hunt's mind back to instant contact with grim reality. The red-haired killer had already reloaded his sawed-off weapon, and was turning back toward the frozen figures of the bank tellers. Mr. Benson, the manager, had been ordered to remain at his desk when the robbery began. He rose falteringly from his seat now, but hurriedly dropped back into it as the deadly shotgun swung ominously in his direction.
Other police cars were suddenly filling the street outside, and their occupants were obviously older, more experienced officers. They were drawing weapons out there, and ducking behind their cars for protection as they glanced through the shattered and blood-streaked doors of the bank to take instant measure of the situation. The red-haired bandit was taking their measure at the same time, and making his mental plans accordingly.
Moving swiftly, wasting no breath on unnecessary words, he gestured impatiently for the three female tellers to leave their posts and join him in the middle of the main floor. Jennifer watched as Betty and Barbara hesitantly followed his directions, then grudgingly fell in behind them to take her place inside the small circle of gunmen. Mr. Benson was herded roughly in to join them, and then the trio of robbers were edging them all toward the front door of the bank.
Jennifer averted her eyes from the prone figures of the two dead officers as they reached the glass front of the building. Without warning, the shotgun-wielding killer seized her by one arm and twirled her about so that she stood between him and the police outside. She felt the still-warm muzzle of the shotgun nuzzling tightly under her chin, forcing her head back in such a way that her spine was arched, her full breasts straining outward against the silken material of her blouse.
The bandit wrapped his free arm around her torso, roughly seizing the firm mound of her right breast in his coarse palm. Jennifer blushed bright crimson, but there was not time to plan or speak any outraged protest, for suddenly he was butting his way through the glass double doors with her as a shield in front of him.
Jennifer winced as the man tightened his cruel grip upon her, his hard fingers digging into the firm flesh of her straining breast. Despite his small stature he was incredibly strong, and he seemed almost about to lift her bodily from the ground as he held her shield-like in front of him there in the doorway.
"Listen up, pigs!" he shouted suddenly, his gravel voice loud and harsh in her ear. "We've already iced two of you bastards, and we've got nothing to lose! There's four hostages in here, and if you try anything cute we're gonna start wasting 'em one at a time!"
There was no response from the cold-eyed rank of armed policemen who watched the outlaw's every gesture. Seeing that he had their complete attention, the little man began speaking again.
"I want a car... a clean one. No wires and no tails. We get an hour head start and no goddamned funny business, because we're taking the hostages with us!"
One of the officers rose to a standing position behind his car, holding an electric megaphone to his mouth. The tinny mechanical voice which issued from the instrument sounded strange and alien to Jennifer's ears.
"What you're asking for takes time," the cop was saying, speaking deliberately and slowly. "We have to clear something like that with headquarters. It could take a few hours."
The red-haired gunman paused, thinking that one over, and then deeded on a course of action, raising his voice in an answering shout.
"You've got two hours!" he grated hoarsely. "Two and no more, get it? No more fucking around!" He briefly checked his watch before speaking again. "I make it 5:10. If we don't have that car and a clear field by 7:10 on the nose, we start throwing bodies out the front door!"
The killer did not wait for a reply, backing quickly through the waiting doors and dragging Jennifer after him into the recesses of the bank.
Inside the bank, the trio of outlaws quickly organized their meager defenses for the ongoing siege. Jennifer, Mr. Benson and the other two young women were herded back into the open vault, from the door of which the gunmen could survey the entire tableau of the bank's interior. Confident at last that they had secured every possible shred of protection from the police outside, the bandits turned once more to examine their hostages.
The tall man, called Duke by the apparent leader of the band, took a position close beside young Barbara Nelson. She was sitting on a low stool normally kept inside the vault, and the man made a show of leaning over her, peering unabashedly down the low-cut front of her tight-fitting little dress. His gleaming eyes traveled slowly, lovingly, over the ripe curves of her upper breasts, so prominently framed by the V-neckline of her seductive garment.
Barbara was aware of the man's attentions, but obviously unwilling or unable to acknowledge them. Jennifer sympathized with the younger girl as she sat there, squirming slightly under the lascivious gaze of the armed robber. Glancing surreptitiously about the vault, she noticed that the shorter man, the one called Frankie, was standing beside Betty Simmons. He seemed to be watching his companion, Duke, and immensely enjoying the other man's cruel toying with Barbara Nelson. Then, after a moment's contemplation of his partner's obvious lust, Frankie turned his own eyes upon the young woman closest to him.
Jennifer Hunt shivered inwardly at the turn the situation was beginning to take. She tossed a glance toward Mr. Benson, only to find him slumped gloomily in a chair in the corner of the vault, eyes downcast as if he hoped somehow to ignore the entire situation. The red-haired killer stood midway between Benson and herself, staring through the open doorway of the vault, watching the empty room beyond with his shotgun raised and ready for trouble.
A low male voice broke the heavy silence, and Jennifer turned, startled, to find Duke was the speaker. "Listen, Red," he drawled, addressing himself to the shotgunner, "as long as we're stuck here for a couple of hours, how abouts us having some fun, eh?" As he spoke, he reached out one hand to stroke Barbara Nelson's blond hair, leaving absolutely no doubt about what sort of "fun" he had in mind.
The one called Red had half turned from his doorway vigil while Duke spoke, his narrow eyes flicking back and forth from the tall gunman to the cowering girl on the stool. Then, without speaking, he shrugged lightly and turned back to the doorway of the vault, giving his partners the go-ahead signal to work their own will upon the captive hostages.
"Don't kill anybody... yet," he added, almost as a careless afterthought, and the tone of his voice sent a chill of panic down Jennifer's supple spine.
Duke chuckled lewdly at the words from his apparent leader. "Don't you worry, partner," he drawled evilly, "killing ain't what I got in mind at all. No siree!"
The tall scar-faced gunman quickly thrust his revolver into a holster concealed beneath his jacket, at the same time dropping to a kneeling position beside terrified young Barbara Nelson. One of his hands continued to toy with her hair while the other grasped her firmly beneath the chin, forcing her head up until her eyes met his directly. He stared into her eyes for a long moment, obviously enjoying her tremulous reaction and the terror which his gaze and touch inspired in the young woman.
Lightly, almost adoringly, he allowed his fingers to stroke the pale flesh of Barbara's cheek, as a man might lightly stroke a prize cocker spaniel. Then, gradually and slowly, that stroking hand dipped lower, until it was massaging not her cheek but the smooth ivory flesh of her gently curving throat. Barbara was trembling as if in the grip of a high fever, but her wide-eyed horror did nothing to dissuade the lustful bandit from his planned course of action.
Duke's hand was leaving Barbara's neck now, slowly and tauntingly dipping still lower to trail lightly across the firm upper swell of her proud young breasts. The girl cringed away from the intimate touch, but her obvious fear and loathing only seemed to incite the lustful bandit further. He chuckled lewdly, dropping his hand until the palm completely covered one of Barbara's trembling breasts, slowly, tauntingly beginning to massage the fleshy orb with a lascivious milking gesture.
"That's some bra you're not wearing," he snickered cruelly, all the while continuing his crude manual assault upon her firm young breast. At the same time his other hand slid downward from the back of her head to seek and find the zipper fastening at the rear of her tight dress. His fingers fumbled there for a long moment, and then the narrow confines of the vault were filled with the raspy sound of a zipper being swiftly opened.
Young Barbara Nelson's pretty face wore a shocked and horrified expression as she realized what the man was doing behind her back, and she immediately arched her supple spine in an effort to avoid his crude effort to unclothe her. Unfortunately for the young woman's modesty, her zipper had already been pulled completely open, and her reflexive action, which thrust her proud breasts even tighter against the material of her dress, served only to force the dress partially downward and off of her slender shoulders.
Jennifer Hunt barely suppressed a gasp as she saw that Barbara's full young breasts were now exposed almost to the cherry-colored aureole surrounding her tense little nipples. Duke licked his lips noisily at the sight of so much female flesh suddenly displayed before him, all the while continuing to squeeze and fondle the breast flesh imprisoned in his grip. From the motions of his other arm and the horrified expression on Barbara's young face, Jennifer surmised that he was using his other hand to stroke her naked back, all the while slowly and inexorably working the top of her dress down and over her already nude shoulders.
A ragged sob was forced from Barbara's throat as Duke dipped one hand inside the plunging neckline of her sagging gown, seizing the full swell of her naked breast in his hard palm. Duke's other hand gripped the neckline of her now-limp dress and he abruptly snatched the form-fitting material down to the level of Barbara's waist, leaving her entire upper torso naked and completely exposed.
Jennifer Hunt briefly clenched her eyes shut in sympathetic reaction to the other young woman's plight, but a sudden sharp cry from Barbara caused her to wrench her eyes open again. Barbara had brought her arms up, crossing them in an effort to at least partially conceal the heaving nakedness of her breasts, and the sneering outlaw had reacted to her modesty with violent fury. Grabbing one of her arms, Duke had wrenched it painfully around behind Barbara's back, and held it there even now in a hammer-lock which caused the partially-nude girl to gasp in helpless pain.
The pressure on Barbara's pinioned arm caused her to arch her back even more, thereby displaying her firm, round tits to each and every pair of eyes there in the vault. The combined pain and humiliation of her degrading position forced the young bank teller into heartfelt sobbing, a grief-ridden sound which wrenched at Jennifer Hunt's very insides.
"For God's sake leave her alone!" Jennifer snapped, sorry at once that she had spoken as Duke turned slowly to glare at her through hooded, snake-like eyes. She was surprised when, instead of bounding across the room to strike her angrily, the sadistic outlaw smiled broadly, speaking to her almost gently from one corner of his mouth.
"Don't worry, lady," the robber leered at her, his greedy eyes traveling like filthy hands over the curves and hollows of her body outlined by her snug-fitting blouse and skirt. "You'll get your turn soon enough!"
Jennifer shuddered as much at his tone of voice as because of the obvious meaning of his words. She shot a quick hopeless glance in the direction of Mr. Benson, but found him still sitting in grim silence in the corner. Only one aspect of the cowardly manager's demeanor had changed in the least: his own eyes were now traveling over the exposed breasts and belly of his own captive employee.
Jennifer was chilled by the knowledge that she... and all of them... were now completely at the mercy of these murderers, men capable of anything and now bent on... God knew what.
Duke was crooning soft, unintelligible words into Barbara's ear, all the while stroking and massaging her large breasts with his free hand. The girl had managed to stifle her sobbing, but she still trembled almost uncontrollably as that alien hand wandered freely across the secret flesh of her round young tits. Jennifer could see the other girl's budding little nipples lengthening into quivering erection beneath the touch, a reaction which she mentally ascribed to a combination of fright and the air-conditioned atmosphere in the vault. Strangely, she felt the beginnings of an answering tingle in her nipples, an unusual and unwanted sensation which caused her own cherry little nipple buds to distend, chafing against the smooth material of her tight-fitting brassiere.
Jennifer squirmed uncomfortably on her seat, fighting to suppress the alien feelings within her own body as her eyes remained glued intently upon the plight of poor young Barbara Nelson. If only there was something she could do... some way to relieve the poor girl's situation and distress! Jennifer knew that any such relief or rescue was totally beyond her powers, and such an attempt would only land them all in even greater danger.
Duke had begun nuzzling at Barbara's cheek, and now he allowed his lips to travel moistly down the path of her gently curving neck. Jennifer could plainly see the pink tip of his tongue as it darted out to lave fleeting oral caresses upon the young girl's satiny flesh. Strangely, she felt an answering tingle along her own throat, a sensation both repugnant and exciting, which sent icy little tremors of response racing from her now-erect nipples downward across the rigid plane of her flat belly to her loins.
Barbara Nelson emitted a groaning little sob as Duke's-mouth left her throat and meandered wetly downward across the proud swell of her breast. She sought to shrink away from his intimate oral caress, but he tightened his cruel grip on her arm enough to arch her back toward him again, bringing her ivory breast flesh and crinkled little nipple bud within range of his slavering lips.
Jennifer held her breath, waiting for she knew not what as the man's mouth posed mere inches from the pink straining summit of Barbara Nelson's trembling breast. Suddenly his tongue shot out from between narrow lips, an incredibly long tongue which flicked lightly across the rubbery bud of Barbara's nipple and then proceeded to swirl wetly around the broader ring of her puckered aureole.
That ultimate oral caress caused Barbara to stiffen into instant rigidity where she sat, her pearly little teeth clenched tightly together as she mentally fought the rampant and conflicting sensations at war in her own young body. Her hips squirmed on the hard stool, grinding her plump buttocks against the unyielding seat in what Jennifer could only interpret as an effort to suppress some interior feeling which had tormented the girl.
The effort, apparently, was unsuccessful. A mewling little cry was torn from Barbara's throat as Duke enveloped her entire nipple with his greedy sucking mouth, and to Jennifer's ears that cry was not entirely one of pain or distress, nor even one of fear.
My God, she asked herself, is it possible that Barbara could become sexually aroused by the crude advances of this total stranger... this murderer?
The answer to Jennifer's mental query was not long in coming. Barbara was panting now, her breath coming in short and excited little spurts, her face and whole upper body flushed with an undeniable rosy glow of excitement. Her hips continued to squirm downward against the hard stool, but there was a more distinctive rhythm to her movements now, an almost... well, seductive rhythm, no longer denoting the panic and desperation which had been so evident only moments before.
And still, Jennifer could tell, the girl's surrender was far from complete. Tears coursed freely down her ruddy cheeks, and her teeth remained gritted tightly as if she was suffering some almost unbearable agony of the soul.
Duke seemed able to sense the conflicting reactions then raging within the supple body of his young victim, and he sought to turn the tables in his own favor by redoubling his own oral assault upon her sensitive breasts. He literally inhaled great gulping mouthfuls of ivory breast flesh, jaws, lips and tongue working frenziedly as he attacked her rigid nipples, seeking to drive Barbara into writhing, rutting rapture of uncontrolled sexual desire.
It seemed to Jennifer that the man's advances were having some marginal success. Barbara was arching her back toward him now, turning slightly on the stool to offer him greater access to her tits, even though Duke had clearly relaxed his grip upon her pinioned arm. Barbara's entire body was rocking rhythmically in perfect time to the motions of Duke's avidly sucking mouth. Her seeming cooperation left Duke's hands free at last, and he now began to run them up and down Barbara's naked upper torso, stroking and probing in long lingering caresses which left the young girl visibly shaking. Jennifer noticed that the nipples of Barbara's tits, whenever the outlaw's mouth left one to seek the other, were long and quiveringly erect, blushing little exclamation points of desire at the tips of each rosy breast.
Heavy breathing from behind her suddenly drew Jennifer's attention away from the lascivious display to her front. The mustachioed bandit, Frankie, was watching his friend in action and grinning wickedly from ear to ear. The heavy breathing, however, seemed to be coming from the bank's manager, Mr. Benson himself. The middle-aged man was leaning forward on his stool, hands tightly clutching his own knees, eyes staring widely as if afraid that he might miss a second of the sensual action between Duke and his young female victim.
Jennifer was shocked and hurt at the almost cooperative reaction of Mr. Benson, when he should have been trying some desperate effort to defend his employees and to rescue them all from their present plight. Instead, it seemed that some long-suppressed vein of lascivious desire was slowly but surely working its way to the surface under the present bizarre circumstances.
Again a sharp little cry from Barbara Nelson, accompanied this time by an intensely embarrassed gasp from Betty Simmons, drew Jennifer's attention back inexorably to the main scene of action in the rather cramped little vault.
Both Duke and Barbara were on their feet now, and it was obvious that he had only just snatched her upright from her former sitting position. The girl was weeping softly, keeping her head lowered and eyes tightly shut in humiliation as she stood semi-nude before the assembled coworkers and complete strangers. Her dress hung limply about her waist, prevented from dropping off completely only by the full, womanly swell of her curvaceous hips. Her firm young breasts stood out proudly even now, the hardened cherry nipples seeming to quiver somehow, as if with a strange erotic life all their own.
Duke spent another agonizing moment fondling Barbara's naked breast flesh, then let his hands slide with sadistic slowness down her sides and across the gentle swell of her satiny stomach. Then, with surprising suddenness and brute force, he hooked clawed fingers into the crumpled material of her dress and jerked it sharply downward from her waist. A sharp tearing sound announced the success of his gambit, and suddenly Barbara stood glistening and naked before them, her only shield from the prying eyes in the room a skimpy pair of almost-transparent bikini panties which did more to emphasize the lightly-furred mound of her pussy than to conceal it.
Jennifer had listened in the past to various office rumors which said that Barbara Nelson was a "hot number," a girl who "got around" with many different men. Now, while watching Barbara's sexual humiliation at the hand of the leering bandit, Jennifer was inclined to disbelieve those stories. Certainly Barbara had a ripe and luscious young woman's body, and Jennifer would not be surprised to learn that she had given herself to one or even several men in the past. But Jennifer could not believe that the frightened young woman weeping and trembling now before them was really the wanton slut which the jealous office backbiters had painted her to be. Jennifer, in fact, was touched by a very real sense of compassion and pity for Barbara as the girl faced the coming ordeal totally alone and helpless.
There was, of course, no compassion whatsoever to be found in Duke. He clapped one big hand over Barbara's barely covered buttocks, and began twisting cruelly at a handful of her firm young ass flesh. The girl winced and cried out, bringing a cruel and triumphant laugh to the outlaw's throat. His other hand, meanwhile, was insinuating itself between the fluttering flesh of her trim little belly and the elastic material of her panties, sliding slowly downward toward the neat golden V of her pubic hair.
Barbara stiffened into stone-like rigidity as Duke's fingers found their target and went to work, probing, stroking and manhandling the tender flesh of her most secret genitals. A breathless gasp from behind her told Jennifer that Mr. Benson was closely watching the whole degrading spectacle, but Jennifer refused to waste time or energy turning to look at the man whom she had suddenly come to regard as a depraved coward.
In fact, Jennifer Hunt had more immediate concerns of her own at the moment. For the sight of Barbara Nelson, almost completely nude and beginning to squirm ever so slightly under the lewd manual assault of the outlaw Duke, was having a strange and disturbing effect upon her own mind and body. Jennifer felt vaguely dizzy, for no reason she could comprehend, and an aching tightness in her full breasts testified to the tight rigidity of her tingling little nipples.
Worse, most horrifying of all to the normally reserved young bank teller, she had begun to feel a very definite, though still small response in the region of her own tight little pussy. It began as an annoying tickling sensation, but the longer she watched Barbara in the clutches of that depraved sex maniac, the more the bothersome sensation translated into a glowing warmth. And no, she decided with an instant flush of shamed humiliation, it was not at all an unpleasant sensation, either.
My God, she asked herself in mental horror, could I possibly be starting to respond... sexually... to this degrading behavior?
The very thought was so humiliating that Jennifer at once thrust it from her mind. And still, those sensations remained, undeniably real and seemingly mounting in intensity the longer Barbara was subjected to the degrading attentions of the murderous bank robber. A faint moistness between her tightly clenched thighs told Jennifer unmistakably that her firm little cunt was beginning to react toward the mental stimulation of its own accord.
Duke ripped Barbara Nelson's flimsy panties from her body with one hand, in a careless, almost casual gesture. Again Mr. Benson gasped, his sharp intake of breath drowning out even Barbara's own sobs as the shapely young woman stood before them in her full golden nudity. Jennifer did not waste time nor effort turning to face the bank manager with her accusing stare, keeping her eyes locked instead on her young coworker and the tall, scar-faced outlaw who tormented her.
Duke had moved around so that he was standing behind Barbara, facing over her shoulder toward the other people in the vault. Jennifer did not understand his intentions at first, but as he began slowly and tauntingly to caress the girl's trembling nude body, Jennifer found that he intended to put on a lewd and humiliating show for all present.
There was something especially obscene... and yes, Jennifer was forced to admit it, something erotic, too... in the spectacle of Barbara Nelson, totally naked before them, with the man leering over her tan shoulder. As his hands moved over the planes and angles of her body, everyone in the vault was afforded a perfect view of his actions and her humiliation. At the same time, Duke's position allowed him to pull Barbara's body back against his own, keeping her luscious young ass-cheeks in constant chafing contact with his own slowly pumping loins even as he continued to knead and massage her naked flesh.
Barbara seemed about to faint dead away as Duke's hands had their way with her slim young body. His fingers tweaked cruelly at her cherry little nipples, evoking groans of mingled pain and pleasure from the girl's lips before straying on casually to other ripe targets up and down her torso. Those evil hands lingered along her heaving abdomen, tickling the smooth flesh of her belly with feathery caresses, then swooped down to the golden-furred mound of her secret little cunt.
Duke suddenly jabbed his knee between Barbara's thighs from behind, causing her to wince with surprised pain, and forcing her trim legs several inches farther apart to accommodate the rough invasion from behind. It was all the access the bandit needed for his marauding fingers to invade the fertile valley of her young cunt, and he went after the tender nether flesh now with a vengeance.
One of Duke's hands cupped Barbara's lush pussy mound, thumb and fingers spreading her pouting cuntal lips until his long middle finger had unobstructed access to the puckered little mouth of her vagina nestled inside. The girl winced at that harsh ultimate invasion of her most private flesh, but she had clearly resigned herself to whatever the cruel man might decide to do with her while she remained his captive. Aside from brief sobs of pain she uttered no protest as his fingers began a pumping, reaming assault upon her moist little cunt.
Jennifer blushed furiously with reflected embarrassment, her heart going out to the girl in sympathy as she watched Barbara, jerking there like a puppet in Duke's sadistic grasp. The young girl's cheeks were flushed with color now, and her entire body had begun to tremble from head to toe, though whether in pain or fright Jennifer could not determine. Only after several long moments of the cruel cuntal manhandling did Jennifer begin to suspect that there might be some other motivation behind the squirming, writhing motions which had so suddenly seized Barbara Nelson's luscious young body.
Oh God, Jennifer realized with stunning horror, she's actually responding, beginning to like it involuntarily! The thought was too much for Jennifer, she suddenly felt sick at her stomach. And yet... yes, she had to admit it... the lewd and seductive drama being enacted before her eyes was having some undefined effect upon her own woman's body as well. A reaction which she could not... dared not... name.
Barbara Nelson was moaning softly and rhythmically now, rotating her hips in tiny circles in time to the fucking motions of Duke's plundering hand, timing her downward thrust to meet his skewering fingers on their upstroke. A faint, wet lapping sound filled the tiny vault, and Jennifer realized with a shock that it was the very same sound she had noticed during the previous night's motion picture... the wet sound of some object being rapidly thrust back and forth into a human pussy. That moist, slushing sound increased in tempo with the more rapid pounding of Duke's sluicing fingers stabbing into Barbara's tight little cunt, and Jennifer found her own breathing strangely speeding up to match that fucking rhythm.
All the time that Duke was harshly pummeling and manipulating Barbara's young cunt, his other hand was equally busy with the ripe mounding swell of her breasts, pinching and massaging that ivory flesh with wild abandon. The dual stimulus was clearly becoming too much for Barbara to take, and her knees began to buckle, threatening to let her fall prostrate on the floor. To remain upright she was forced to grope behind her, clinging to Duke's coat for support.
Reading her body language with an expert's eye, Duke chose that moment to take his sexual assault into the next phase. Withdrawing his busy hands from Barbara's breasts and crotch, he suddenly seized her firmly by the shoulders. One of his ankles swept against hers at the same instant, and she was suddenly toppling to the floor, prevented from falling headlong only by Duke's firm grip on her upper body.
Barbara cried out in shock as she fell, and Duke followed her swiftly to the floor, perching himself in a kneeling position astride her prone young form. He straddled her waist, using one large hand to pin both wrists together above her head, thus leaving the other hand free to wander at will over the lush ivory flesh of the girl's naked body.
Barbara squirmed furiously beneath her captor, but her gyrations only seemed to incite him further, as they forced her smooth belly and lightly furred cuntal mound spasmodically upward against the bulging crotch of his slacks. Duke let out a chuckle of lewd delight, riding the captive young woman like he might a wild mare, allowing his crotch to rub freely against the heaving flesh of her abdomen. Jennifer noticed that after several moments of the inciteful massaging, with Duke's hands wandering freely over Barbara's breasts and belly, stroking with a mixture of cruelty and gentleness at thighs and pubic curls, that Barbara herself seemed to be ceasing her struggles. The young girl's eyelids were drooping, as if she was on the verge of some sort of mystic trance induced by the lewd handling of her golden naked body.
Barbara Nelson's body was not still however. Rippling spasms seemed to flow endlessly through her supple torso, as if at the manual command of the evil man who held her pinned to the floor of the vault. Small mewling cries of inescapable erotic response issued now from the girl's lips as she began to slip over the thin edge into total sensual abandonment.
Duke sensed his impending victory, and quickly shifted his position atop Barbara's writhing young body. He was kneeling now between the young woman's widely splayed 'thighs, crouching there at the juncture of her secret genitals as her body undulated before him with a seeming mind of its own.
A lewd chuckle rumbled in Duke's throat, and he furiously tore at the zipper and fastenings of his slacks. In the twinkling of an eye he had dropped his pants to his knees, completely exposing himself without evident embarrassment as he lurked there at the moist portal of Barbara Nelson's clasping little pussy.
Slowly, tauntingly, he began to stroke his own penis with one calloused hand. Jennifer sucked in her breath sharply, amazed at the dimensions to which the already-erect shaft of male flesh enlarged under the tantalizing massage. Duke rolled the thick tan foreskin back from the tip of his cock, fully exposing the broad, blunt head of his hungry purple glans. Jennifer could plainly see a single milky droplet of pre-ejaculate fluid glistening at the cyclopic eye of his little penile slit.
With practiced ease, Duke thrust his hips slightly forward, until the blunt tip of his cock made its first tingling contact with the coralline slit of Barbara Nelson's cunt. The sudden contact sent an irrepressible shiver through the nude young girl, and she arched her back upward from the cold floor of the vault in a rictus of sensual arousal.
Jennifer was amazed at the sudden, totally unpredictable changes which a stranger's touch had brought about in the young woman whom she had thought she knew so well. Now, as she watched Duke slowly stroking his fat cock along the moistening slit of Barbara's cunt, and witnessed the girl's own writhing, whining reaction, it seemed obvious that she was herself on the brink of an impending sexual orgasm.
Jennifer was stunned at the sight, and even more horrified by the responsive burning sensation between her own thighs. The silken crotchband of her panties was soaked now with her own feminine secretions, and the nipples of her proud breasts were becoming increasingly sore from chafing against the restraining lacy material of her bra. She clenched her teeth, determined to resist the traitorous impulses of her own ripe young body.
Barbara Nelson was obviously beyond help. She was mewling softly, nonsense syllables which sometimes sounded strikingly like pleas for "More! More!" Her full hips had taken up a fucking rhythm of their own in response to the arousing stroking of Duke's rigid penis, and the girl's knees had been drawn upward and apart in obvious sensual invitation.
Duke could restrain himself no longer. With an animalistic snarl of lust, he threw himself full length upon Barbara's prostrate body. With one fluid motion he buried his thick cock to the hilt in the clasping little channel of her hungry vagina.
The sudden invasion of her tight loins was almost too much for the captive young woman. Her back arched upward spasmodically from the floor, her legs extended and rigid, every tendon and muscle in her body standing out like straining steel bands beneath her velvety flesh. Her tiny fists drummed helplessly for a moment against Duke's broad back as she cried out her agony to the room at large.
"Auuuuggghhh! Ohhh noooo!" Barbara wailed in agony. "It's too big! I... I... can't take it! Please... NOOOO!!!"
Duke bored into her mercilessly, undissuaded by her cries for relief. If anything, her protests seemed to urge him on to even more violent pummeling thrusts with his rigid cock.
For long moments Barbara Nelson lay pinned beneath Duke, eyes tightly shut and fists clenched as he slammed his cock into her, tiny little simpering cries forced from between clenched teeth with every inward stab of his prick. At length, however, Jennifer Hunt denoted a change in the girl, as Barbara seemed to visibly relax, more color coming into her complexion again as her cries of pain ceased, replaced now by heavy, labored breathing.
The young girl's hips were once more picking up a responsive, complementary rhythm to the forceful screwing she was then receiving. Slowly, half-reluctantly, her legs were pulled up until the heels of her feet met behind Duke's buttocks, locking at the ankles to pull his loins ever tighter against her own. Barbara's arms were around Duke's shoulders now, her fingers curving into steely claws as they raked at his clothing in a mounting frenzy of passion. Barbara was whispering something now, breathlessly, and Jennifer was forced to lean far forward on her stool to comprehend what the other woman was saying.
"Harder!" Barbara hissed, "More! More, harder, please!! Fuck me harder!!!"
Duke was only too happy to comply with the whispered request, redoubling his own driving tempo as he pumped his way onward toward a shattering sexual climax. Barbara was not far behind him, and from their mutual reactions Jennifer was able to surmise that the internal muscles of the girl's cunt must be milking furiously at the rod of penile flesh which plunged in and out of her at such a feverish pace.
Barbara's orgasm began with a long, low moan which seemed to emanate from her very bowels, slowly winding its way outward and into the air. The, suddenly, she was wailing her erotic relief to the sky without any thought of who might overhear or what they might think of her total response to her cruel rapist. Her body was alternately limp and rigid, her full hips buffeting wildly against Duke's belly as she sought to consume every inch of his cock flesh in her own hungry, needing little pussy.
"Aaaarrrrggghhh!!! IIIIImmmmmmmm ccccuuuummmmiiiinnnngggggg!!!!" The sensual cry was wrenched from Barbara Nelson's throat in a long, gurgling, rumbling admission of total erotic surrender.
Duke was not far behind in attaining his own mind-reeling orgasm, as the clasping, convulsing muscles of Barbara's tight little pussy milked his cock mercilessly. His world seemed to explode as the flood of scalding semen suddenly overflowed the tight receptacle of his balls and raced the length of his prick to explode inside Barbara's heaving little belly.
"Jesus Christ!" the outlaw shouted to no one in particular. "She's milking me... making me cum!"
The couple was locked together for a long moment of trembling mutual ecstasy, and during that orgasmic embrace, Barbara's eyes suddenly popped open. She was staring directly at Jennifer, blankly, sightlessly, with a totally abandoned expression on her pretty young face which made Jennifer feel suddenly weak and hollow inside.
My God, Jennifer questioned herself mentally, could that happen to me?
Now, as the impromptu lovers slowly rolled apart, as Duke regained his feet and began to tuck his deflating cock away inside his clothing, Jennifer was suddenly terrified that she might know the answer to that personal question before very long. The cruel rapist's words of earlier in the day came back to haunt her again: "Don't worry lady, you'll get your turn soon enough!"
CHAPTER THREE
Jennifer Hunt sat quietly, unwilling to attract undue attention from the robbers as Duke finished rearranging his disheveled clothing. Barbara Nelson seemed only semi-conscious as she lay sprawled naked there on the floor, and she made some motion to cover herself only after Duke dropped her dress in a rumpled pile atop her body. Even then the young girl did not put the garment on, but merely clutched it in front of her while she dragged herself away to one corner of the vault, to sit there softly weeping and rocking herself gently back and forth.
Jennifer felt as if she herself might be on the verge of tears, but the pace of events there in the vault prevented her from devoting much time to her own runaway emotions of the moment. A small, whimpered cry of protest came now from her left rear, and she turned quickly to find the outlaw called Frankie standing beside Betty Simmons, running one hand casually but suggestively up and down her rigid spine. From the expression on Betty's face, Jennifer was unable to tell if the young woman was more frightened or angry, and she was suddenly afraid at what might happen to them all if Betty decided to forcibly resist the criminal's advances.
Still, her mind cried out to her, someone has got to do something!
The spectacle of Duke lewdly fondling young Barbara Nelson and driving his massive cock into the tight channel of her little cunt had obviously incited Frankie's mind to similar thoughts. The bandit was already letting his hands roam at will over Betty's ripe young body, kneading and caressing her ample breasts and full womanly hips and buttocks through the thin veil of her restraining clothing. Jennifer could see the rigid pole of his big penis jutting outward against the tightly confining crotch material of his blue jeans as he leered at his captive victim and fondled her intimately.
Frankie wasted no time in beginning to strip his female captive, nor was he as gentle about it as Duke had been with Barbara. Fishing into his pants pocket, the robber came out with a long switchblade knife, touching a button on the handle to snap the cruel blade open directly in front of Betty's frightened eyes. Jennifer herself could not wholly suppress a startled gasp as the long finger of shiny steel sprang into sight before them.
Frankie chuckled lewdly as he brought the slender knife blade into action. Seizing the waistline of Betty's form-fitting knit sweater, he suddenly began slicing through the fine material, running the blade up the front of her trembling body so that the sharp point passed directly between her large, firm breasts. A ragged sob of pure animal fear was torn from Betty's throat as the gleaming blade whipped past her face and was gone again.
Betty's sweater fell completely open in front, severed from hem to neckline and fully exposing the milky white orbs of her breasts as they nestled within the lacy restraint of a skimpy black brassiere. Frankie completed his task, seizing the torn remnant of Betty's upper garment from behind and yanking it away from her body with a loud ripping sound of ruined material. The force of the assault almost toppled Betty from her feet as the sweater was stripped from her slender arms, but Frankie grasped her by one pale shoulder to prevent her from falling to the floor.
The outlaw's next target was the young woman's skirt, and he attacked it in characteristic style. Inserting the tip of his long knife blade in the waistband of that skirt, he maneuvered the blade momentarily for leverage, then swung his weapon downward in a long, slithering cut which followed the curve of Betty's firm thigh. Completely opened on one side, the useless garment fell away from Betty's figure in a dark swirl of motion, leaving the young woman staring down in confusion at her own nearly-nude body.
Betty Simmons remained clad only in her tiny black bra and matching see-through bikini panties, but the leering Frankie seemed in no great hurry to divest her of those final articles of clothing.
Instead, he went on a brief walking circuit around the statuesque young beauty, pausing here and there to let his eyes and hands pay homage to some particular aspect of her almost naked young body. Betty was sobbing softly, blushing bright crimson at each new touch of the outlaw's lecherous hands upon her ivory flesh.
Having completed his tour of the lush female flesh at his disposal, Frankie returned to his position at Betty's side, with his back facing Jennifer Hunt. Something else seemed to have captured his attention for the moment, and Jennifer allowed her own eyes to follow his turning head toward the new target of his consciousness. What, she wondered, could take this evil man's mind away from his obvious lustful intentions?
Her eyes, and Frankie's, fell upon Mr. Benson, the bank manager. The middle-aged man was craning forward from the precarious seat of his stool, almost drooling now as he watched the impending rape of his second female employee. Jennifer was unable to believe the transformation which seemed to have overcome the normally meek gentleman, and when she heard a low chuckle rumbling in Frankie's throat, she believed she knew what dreadful new twist the rapist had in mind.
"You... old man!" Frankie's voice cracked like a whip through the deathly stillness of the vault, catching Mr. Benson in the midst of his own mental fantasies and snapping him sharply back to the reality of the moment.
Benson jerked backward on his stool as if he had been slapped across the face, his movements so spasmodic that for an instant Jennifer thought he might topple all the way backward and onto the floor.
"Wha... wha... what?" the bank manager stammered, obviously both terrified of Frankie and greatly embarrassed at having been caught leering so openly at Betty Simmons' near-nudity.
"You'd like a piece of that, wouldn't you guy?" Frankie's tone was intimate, yet mocking, as he took a step closer to Benson, waving his knife hand toward where Betty stood in abject humiliation.
Benson was at a loss for words, neither daring to deny what the outlaw said nor to publicly expose himself as a craven old letch. He merely stared at Frankie with watery eyes and shook his head vaguely in a noncommittal gesture of confusion.
"I asked you a question, asshole!" Frankie snapped suddenly, whipping his long switchblade about so that the sharp point was directly under Mr. Benson's trembling chin. "Answer up, before I give you a second mouth that you can't close!"
"Alright, please, alright!" Benson quaking voice bore all the characteristics of an hysterical sob, and Jennifer actually felt pity for the man despite his latent response to the ravishment of Barbara and the impending rape of Betty Simmons. Frankie was speaking again, his tone gentler now, pulling Jennifer's attention back to her immediate circumstances.
"What would you say if I told you you could have her? Right now?" The voice was taunting, a chuckle underlying it all as Mr. Benson's face went blank for a moment, then molded itself into a portrait of utter confusion and puzzlement. Who, me? his watery eyes seemed to be asking the bandit.
"You heard me right, old man," Frankie continued, still taunting Benson about his gray hair although Jennifer would have guessed there was less than five years actual difference in their ages. "You can have a piece of that sweet little ass right now. All you gotta do is get up, walk over there, and take it!" Again the lewd chuckle ended his comments.
Duke's curious voice broke in upon the frozen little tableau. "What the hell are you doing, Frankie?"
"Don't sweat it, pal," the mustachioed bandit called over his shoulder. "I like a little floor show before the main course, ya dig?" An answering laugh from Duke told everyone present that he did indeed "dig" what his partner had in mind.
"Well," Frankie prodded the trembling bank manager, "get with it, man. We're waiting."
Still Benson did not move from his stool, and now Frankie was moving to his side, bringing the long knife around until its tip gouged Benson directly between his narrow shoulders. Frankie's other hand seized the bank manager by his lapel, dragging him unceremoniously to his feet and hauling him around until he stood facing Betty Simmons in the center of the vault. His eyes met the young woman's briefly, and an expression of true pity crossed his face, somewhat softening the hard thoughts which Jennifer Hunt had entertained about him earlier.
"I... I'm truly sorry... Miss Simmons," the trembling man offered hopelessly. "There's nothing I can... " Frankie's voice cut through Benson's faltering apology. "Knock off the bullshit, man. Get down to what you're here for!"
Even as he spoke, Frankie whipped his knife around behind Betty, slicing through the back strap of her black lacy bra in one smooth, fluid motion. The cold tip of the blade lightly grazed her flesh, causing the young woman to arch her back reflexively, a motion which, in turn, caused her suddenly freed brassiere to literally pop off and rebound against Mr. Benson's heaving chest.
Betty gasped, the sound becoming a breathless little sob as she stood topless now in front of her employer, her full young breasts jiggling slightly with her sobbing. Mr. Benson seemed to be fighting an internal battle for control, and apparently losing. He could not seem to tear his eyes away from those gently swaying orbs of tender breast flesh, and the pink little nipple buds which were already stiffening into quivering fright erection.
"Go on, man," Frankie urged the quaking older man, "grab ahold and go for a ride! Get with it!" A menacing gesture with the switchblade compelled Benson to do as the outlaw said, stretching out first one hand and then the other to lightly touch Betty's trembling tits.
The young girl sucked in her breath at the first feather caress of male flesh against her own, then she gritted her teeth and tightly closed her eyes in determination to avoid the sort of humiliating involuntary response which had overcome young Barbara Nelson only short moments before. Still, the firm rigidity of her tiny little nipple buds with their crinkled areolae, and the increased rate of her breathing which caused her magnificent bust to heave ever more rapidly, belied the exterior facade of calm which the woman sought to project.
Mr. Benson seemed to be gradually losing himself as he devoted himself to the forced task of fondling Betty's firm round tits. His thumbs perched above the cherry nubs of her nipples, flicking lightly at the tiny little sprouts swirling more forcefully around the pink rim of surrounding ultrasensitive flesh. He squeezed those breasts and massaged them with ever-increasing vigor, his hands milking at the firm but pliant flesh as his mind and subconscious became totally involved in the heated activities of the moment.
Jennifer Hunt heard Frankie chuckle lewdly as he watched his human puppets involved in the lewd drama he had staged for them. His sadistic "floor show" was proceeding apace, and he was obviously enjoying it immensely. Jennifer could hear his heavy breathing plainly as he watched every move of Mr. Benson's shaking hands on Betty Simmons' alabaster breast flesh.
After several long moments of quietly watching that lascivious manipulation, and noting the subtle changes coming about in the young girl's breathing and slight body motions in response to that manhandling of her bare tits, Frankie voiced his next instructions to the captive duo.
"Go on and take a mouthful, man," he ordered Benson with a lewd smile. "Try it, you'll like it. It's good for you!"
Mr. Benson winced visibly at the latest instructions, but with Frankie's long knife still plainly in evidence he had no choice but to comply at once. Leaning forward, he grasped one of Betty's full breasts in his hand and slowly lowered his lips to the straining cherry nipple at its peak.
Betty gasped aloud at the new sensation as her employer's warm, moist mouth closed over the straining little peak of her ultra-sensitive nipple. Her fists were tightly clenched at her sides, and Jennifer could see the girl grinding her teeth in an effort to control the agony of conflicting emotions and feelings which the soft oral caresses had inspired within her quaking body. Small moaning cries issued from between her tightened lips as she fought back against the rebellious tremors of budding lust which her employer's licking, sucking mouth brought unbidden to her torso.
Mr. Benson seemed now to be totally losing himself in his forced oral assault upon his young female employee. His eyes were closed, and his jaw seemed to be working ever faster in an apparent attempt to provoke some involuntary sexual response from the young woman whose tits he was tonguing and sucking so avidly. His hands were busy as well, massaging those firm mounds of breast flesh, and alternately sliding up and down Betty's naked sides and back, tickling and stroking and swirling occasionally across the firm swell of her panty-clad hips and buttocks.
Mr. Benson's knees were trembling badly now, his legs seemingly about to buckle, and Jennifer Hunt imagined that a bitter sob of mingled shame and lust was torn from his throat as he suddenly dropped to a kneeling position in front of young Betty Simmons. His mouth necessarily left her full breasts, trailing wetly now across the quivering ivory plane of her flat stomach and planting moist little kisses all around the gentle swell of her little belly where it tipped the thin elastic waistband of her bikini panties. Benson's hands crept around to tightly cup Betty's firm young ass-cheeks as he buried his face completely in the soft, silken flesh of her belly, engulfing great lusty mouthfuls of that tender meat.
Frankie sensed the aging bank manager's desire and was more than willing to play along for the moment. He quietly and deftly slipped the blade of his knife inside Betty's panties from behind, the icy cold of the long blade causing her to squirm her loins involuntarily forward against Mr. Benson's slavering mouth. The knife blade passed through the flimsy transparent material like there was nothing there, a faint hissing sound the only tribute to its passing.
And suddenly, Betty Simmons stood fully nude in front of her kneeling, groaning employer, the darkly furred triangle of her thick pubic hair directly on a level with his gaping eyes and slack-jawed, drooling mouth. The sheer lustful inspiration of the magnificent sight was plainly too much for Mr. Benson, and a wild groan of mingled passion and self-pity was wrenched from his throat as he thrust his face forward, burying his busily working lips in that mass of moist cuntal hair.
Betty gasped aloud and recoiled from that ultimate oral assault upon her most secret genitals, but Benson's hands clutched clawlike at her round asscheeks, and the razor-edged tip of Frankie's knife reinforced the message as it prodded cruelly between her naked shoulder blades. The young female bank teller was a total captive, with no choice but to submit to the lascivious oral fucking of her own middle-aged employer before the leering amused eyes of her criminal captors.
Benson was totally lost now in a sexual fantasy world of his own, no longer mindful of the fact that he had been compelled at knifepoint to begin this lustful assault upon his own employee. His greedy mouth sucked and gnawed at every exposed inch of Betty Simmons' exposed young pussy mound, his long rough tongue lapping hungrily at the moist nether lips of her cunt, and probing irresistibly within to find the wet coralline flesh hidden there.
Betty Simmons was no longer weeping, but was rather breathing heavily in strange gasping tones. The alien sensations racing through her captive young body were threatening to overwhelm her at any instant, and her body felt so shaky that she feared she was about to topple headlong to the cold floor. Unthinking, almost unconsciously, she spread her thighs slightly farther apart in an effort to maintain balance, but this move only allowed her slavering employer greater oral access to the secret little orifice of her private pussy.
She groaned audibly as his lips sought and found the crinkled little inner mouth of her cunt, his hot tongue tip flicking teasingly across the hard little pleasure-bud of her straining clitoris.
As with Barbara Nelson, Jennifer Hunt was stunned and amazed at the quickness with which Betty Simmons seemed to respond to the unwanted lewd assaults upon her naked body. Jennifer had always believed that rape would be somehow so totally unpleasant that no woman could ever be forced to enjoy it, but now, with contrary evidence twice displayed before her very eyes, she began to doubt that timeless truth. With that stunning realization came an instant reawakening of the same disturbing sensations which Jennifer had felt within herself as she watched the rape of Barbara Nelson, an inexplicable tightness and stiffening in the nipples of her ripe young breasts, and a simultaneous glowing warmth which seemed to pulsate and churn between her thighs. She clamped her legs tightly together, grinding her buttocks downward against the unyielding seat of her stool, but the futile gesture only served to increase her growing discomfort, stretching the already moistened crotchband of her silken panties even tighter across the slightly inflamed lips of her pouting cunt.
Jennifer could scarcely believe the traitorous reaction stirring within her own rebellious body as she sat there, a captive witness to the sadistic ravishment of her closest friends. She was filled with secret shame as she recognized those feelings within herself, feelings closely akin to the ones inspired only the night before by Paul Roberts' roving, questing hands as they taunted and teased her needing woman's body.
Oh God, Jennifer sobbed inwardly, I really am becoming aroused, against my will!
Almost as if seeking some distraction from the feelings mounting in her own young body, Jennifer Hunt returned her eyes to the cruel plight of Betty Simmons. The girl was plainly losing her battle to remain in control now, and Jennifer was rather shocked to see that one of Betty's formerly clenched fists was not resting limply on top of Mr. Benson's head as the bank manager avidly sucked and tongued her hot little cunt. Betty's entire body was trembling from head to foot, in an almost spastic condition as the oral stimulation of her rigid little clitoris gradually broke down the final barriers of her iron-willed resistance.
Mr. Benson seemed to sense the fact that his young female employee was on the verge of succumbing to his lewd tongue fucking, and in fact that seemed to be the only thing his mind could really grasp. Jennifer noted that his eyes were clenched tightly shut, and it seemed as if he had totally forgotten the robbery, murder and rape now in progress in his own bank. Nothing seemed to exist at all for Mr. Benson except the hot, clasping little pussy into which he now buried his slavering lips and churning pink tongue.
Benson's hands slowly crept up the front of Betty Simmons' writhing torso, seeking and finding the proud firm mounds of her aroused young breasts. Clawlike fingers fastened upon those fleshy orbs, as Benson began a stimulating erotic massage to complement and amplify his oral attentions to Betty's steamy little box. The dual assault seemed to be the last straw, for Betty cried out softly in obvious arousal, her fingers knotting in Benson's iron-gray hair and pulling his active mouth even tighter against her sizzling pussy.
The mismatched couple almost toppled from their awkward position there in the middle of the vault room floor, but their mutual clinging grasp upon one another kept them quiveringly upright against all the laws of gravity. Betty Simmons was groaning constantly now, and bumping her full hips rhythmically forward against Mr. Benson's face in her mounting passion. For his part, the bank manager was wildly craning his neck to attain the maximum possible contact between his stretching, searching tongue, and the moist, hot flesh of the young teller's yearning, needing pussy.
It seemed to Jennifer that Betty Simmons must be close to the brink of a shattering orgasm, and from the pulsing swell caused by Mr. Benson's rigid cock at the front of his trousers, she surmised that her employer was equally aroused. Her own sexually induced tension mounted as she watched them driving toward the plateau which would-at least for Betty- bring total, mind-numbing release. Betty's buttocks arid thighs were tense and straining, her rapid breathing a sure sign of quickly approaching sexual orgasm.
Frankie, the outlaw, had other ideas for the couple however. With a rough growl of "That's enough man," he forced himself once again into the tiny lewd tableau, breaking Mr. Benson's tight grip upon Betty with a savage kick to the side of the bank manager's head. Benson was sent sprawling, senseless, into a far corner of the vault by the impact of the terrific blow. Betty Simmons, meanwhile, suddenly deprived of both her support and the source of her sexual gratification, almost toppled sideways to the floor. Frankie caught her about the waist with his arm at the last moment, and as he swung her sharply about, Jennifer noted the confused and disoriented expression on the young woman's face. It seemed almost to Jennifer that a whining little moan of disappointment and frustration escaped from Betty's lips as she realized that Mr. Benson's lips had been wrenched away from her still-yearning cunt.
Frankie seemed to have heard the vague sound as well, and had placed the same interpretation upon it. He chuckled lewdly now as he roughly manhandled his naked captive across the floor to the other side of the vault.
"Don't worry, bitch," he leered mockingly. "That little pussy of yours ain't gonna go hungry much longer! Yessir, you're gonna get all the meat that tight little cunt of yours can handle!"
So saying, he seized Betty bodily about the waist with his large hands and lifted her bodily onto a low metal table reserved for the use of safety deposit box owners. Betty landed upon the smooth tabletop with a jolt, wincing and squirming as the icy-cold metal made tingling contact with the golden expanse of her naked body. There was no escape however, for Frankie held her pinned firmly to the table with one big hand planted in the center of her heaving little belly.
With his free hand, the bandit was busy unbuttoning the fly of his jeans. There was a long awkward moment, filled with Frankie's impatient cursing, as he fought to free his blood-engorged penis from the snug confines of his pants, and then, almost without warning, Jennifer was afforded a perfect view of the rigid shaft as it sprang into sight, pulsing and obviously ready for instant action.
The bandit shifted his grip on Betty now, grasping her by the calves of her legs and roughly twisting in a clockwise motion until she was gradually forced onto her stomach. Again she winced in great discomfort at the cold, magnified now by the chafing of her erect and super-sensitive little nipple buds against the frigid metal of the table.
Betty was still seeking some comfortable position upon that unyielding surface when Frankie grasped her around the hips, hauling her buttocks and loins unceremoniously to the end of the low table.
With his big calloused palms he pried her firm young thighs apart, turning deaf ears to the whimpered protests which now issued steadily from Betty's pouting lips. One of her slim legs went under each of his arms, pinned there in a sort of wrestling hold which she could never hope to break.
Jennifer saw in an instant that the seemingly awkward choice of positions was actually designed to give Frankie total access to Betty's hot and lubricated loins. The coralline slit of her cunt was clearly displayed as he levered her thighs farther apart, nestling almost demurely in the dusky triangle of her softly curling pubic hair. The blunt, uncircumcised head of the would-be rapist's cock was poised a mere quivering inch from the portal of Betty's clasping little vagina, and even as Jennifer Hunt noted the near proximity, Frankie moved to close the gap.
A single shuffling step, together with a slight shift in the angle of his hips, brought the glans of Frankie's penis into nudging, tickling contact with Betty Simmons' steaming little pussy. The outlaw savored the super-heated contact for an instant, and then, without further ceremony, took another bounding step forward, burying his prick to the very hilt in the tiny, yielding tunnel of his captive's ravaged pussy.
A groaning half-scream of pain was wrenched from Betty's taut lips at that ultimate jarring invasion of her most private flesh. Her entire body went momentarily rigid on the steel slab of the tabletop, her hands clutching with white-knuckled fury at the edges of the table as she braced herself to meet that shattering thrust.
And the thrusting continued. No sooner had Frankie driven his cock home in Betty's clasping love tunnel than he began to slowly withdraw it. He seemed to be savoring the sensations as her tight vaginal walls clung reluctantly to his penile shaft, the moist coralline flesh being sucked and pulled outward as if it sought to keep his retreating cock from escaping.
When only the barest tip of his rod remained inside Betty's pulsating cunt, Frankie drove his hips forward again for another skewering thrust into the depths of her loins. This time, it seemed, Betty's wordless cry of protest was ever-so-slightly weaker, and Jennifer somehow sensed that the rubbery walls of her cunt were already juicing and stretching to accommodate the savage fucking shaft which pummeled them.
Frankie sensed the involuntary accommodation as well, taking full advantage of it with ever faster pounding thrusts in the young girl's wet pussy furrow. His heavy balls swung forward to slap against the widespread plane of her crotch with every inward stroke, providing a bizarre and almost musical accompaniment to the sadistic act of rape being enacted there.
Betty Simmons was also feeling the effect of those hammering inward penile thrusts, and doubly so. Not only was Frankie's powerful rod of cock flesh sluicing in and out of her hungry cunt at an ever mounting tempo, but the steady pummeling motion was endlessly nudging her crotch against the cold edge of the steel table as well. Her hardened little clitoris was pinned there, forced by the weight of her body and the rhythm of Frankie's crude fucking into a constant, inciteful grating contact with the table.
A strange expression passed over Betty Simmons' young face as her cunt and clit were subjected to that dual, back-and-forth pounding, an expression of mingled surprise and reawakening passion which told Jennifer Hunt and the other observers of her plight that the sadistic rape was indeed having highly unexpected results upon her rebellious young nether flesh. Jennifer Hunt could see tears forming in the corners of Betty's soft brown eyes, but from the near-swooning expression on her pretty features it would have been impossible to say whether they were tears of pain and humiliation, or of relief and gratitude that her cunt would not be cheated of the inciteful pleasure begun by Mr. Benson's lapping tongue.
Frankie could plainly see and sense the cooperative reaction of Betty Simmons' traitorous pussy flesh as it began to alternately clasp and release the pistoning shaft of his cock on every driving stroke. He gritted his teeth now, his breath escaping in great wheezing gusts of desire, while his hands began a rough kneading massage of Betty's naked buttocks, back and shoulders. Faster and faster he pounded his driving penis into the tight receptacle of Betty's crotch, and once again Jennifer's ears detected the wet and unmistakable sound which seemed so often to haunt her dreams of Paul-the unique and distinctive sound of crude, animalistic fucking!
Frankie was cursing now, softly and rhythmically, exhaling his coarse sexual obscenities on each driving thrust of his hips and cock, a steady litany of commands and pleas which seemed to numb Jennifer's senses as she was bombarded by the reality of their meaning before her gaping eyes.
Betty clearly heard and registered every growling word, almost unconsciously responding and accommodating the desires of her rapist by subtle readjustments of her lower body, granting him greater access to her snatch and at the same time redoubling her own pounding sensual ecstasy.
"Ooooohhh GGGooooddddd!" the oath was forced from between Betty's tightly clenched teeth as if by the very force of the jackhammer cock thrusts pounding into her moist, soft little cunt. Her entire body seemed to stiffen, trembling from head to foot as she experienced the unmistakable tremors of powerful pre-orgasmic pleasure. A responsive moan of equal intent was forced out of Frankie as Betty's internal pussy muscles instinctively clenched tighter around the skewering shaft of his massive, heavily-veined cock.
Suddenly, in the batting of an eye, it seemed to Jennifer Hunt that young Betty Simmons must surely have gone insane. First her trim young torso went rigid as a board, a tense, trembling rigidity rather akin to rigor mortis in its appearance. And then, just as abruptly, she was thrashing madly upon the steel tabletop, arms and legs flailing, back undulating fiercely as she sought to drive her wide hips back with ever increasing speed and force against the ramming head of her rapist's pummeling penile shaft. Her teeth were fully bared, like the hunting fangs of some wild jungle beast, and her head thrashed from side to side, her thick and luscious brown hair lashing in a blur all around her head and face.
"Aaaaa! Aauuuuuugggggghhhhhhh!!!!! Illlllllmmmmmmmmmm ccccccccccccc... ccccccuuuuuummmmmmiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggg!!!!" She wailed desperately, her normally soft and timid voice rising to a virtual roar as she was swept bodily over the razor's edge of passion into the swirling cosmic void of spinning, reeling erotic explosion. Her strong legs locked around Frankie's waist, trapping his loins tight against hers and imprisoning his rigid penis deep in the super-heated, churning tunnel of her convulsing vagina.
The entire onslaught of powerful sensations was simply too much for the rapist as well, and as he now felt the frenzied muscles of Betty's palpitating cunt milking fiercely at the rigid shaft of his prick, he allowed himself to explode deep within her, growling his wordless prayer of gratitude to deaf gods as the seething caldron of his sperm erupted into her cunt in a scalding flow.
Jennifer was breathing heavily now, eyes glued to the grossly obscene spectacle before her eyes. She could feel herself trembling spastically, and quickly grasped the edge of her stool in an effort to control the involuntary spasms. The crotchband of her skimpy bikini panties was sopping wet now with the secret love emissions set free by the combination of what she had seen and the memories... memories of her own very limited sexual experience... which those lewdly suggestive sights had conjured up in her mind's eye.
Jennifer's little nipples were completely erect within the satiny confines of her low-cut brassiere, rigid and aching with the unconscious desire to be set free, free to be pinched, manipulated and sucked even as Betty and Barbara's nipples had been. The entire room seemed to reel around Jennifer, tilting first one way and then the other, until she felt that surely she must faint dead away at the sight of Frankie and Betty locked tightly together in the waning throes of their powerful mutual orgasm.
A sudden, soft and spidery touch upon her left shoulder brought Jennifer Hunt's mind snapping back to reality with almost painful suddenness. She jerked about, almost toppling from her precarious seat in the process, and found the red-haired leader of the outlaw trio standing close beside her, his hand resting there upon her shoulder in a gesture which seemed at once both fatherly and yet filled with latent menace. A mingled gasp and sob caught in Jennifer's throat as she tried mentally to plumb the reasons behind his sudden attention to her, and the obvious answer which came immediately to her fearful brain served only to increase the spasmodic trembling of her limbs.
The bandit leader, she felt sure in her own mind, was about to exercise the privileges of rank and make truth of the other outlaw's half-serious threat.
It was, young Jennifer Hunt had not the slightest doubt, "her turn" now in the sexual circus which had evolved from the bungling robbery attempt, and the very thought of this man's hands wandering at will across her ripe young body was enough to make her insides feel suddenly weak and watery. She clenched her eyes tightly shut and swallowed hard, fighting down a wave of instant nausea which threatened to overwhelm her senses altogether.
Yes, without a shadow of a doubt, it was Jennifer Hunt's turn now!
CHAPTER FOUR
Jennifer Hunt rose trembling to her feet in response to a commanding gesture from the bandit leader called Red. She stood erect before him, eyes downcast, painfully aware that his own eyes were slowly following every swell and curve of her ripe woman's figure, mentally caressing her like unclean hands through the marginal concealment of her snug-fitting clothes. The thought was repugnant to Jennifer, and she shivered inwardly, feeling her little nipples stiffen in a reaction which she supposed must be fear.
"You're about ready, ain't ya lady?" The red-haired outlaw's smirking voice snapped Jennifer's mind back to the reality of the moment.
She raised her eyes to meet his, horrified by the lewd smirking expression she found there. She shook her head, momentarily confused and unable to grasp the full meaning of his suggestive comment.
"Wha... what?" she stammered lamely. "I... I don't understand."
"Sure you do, lady," the killer smiled coldly, his eyes returning to the swell of her breasts in undisguised hunger. "You've been sittin' there panting and shaking like a bitch in heat ever since this little party got under way."
The other bandits chuckled lewdly at their leader's observation, and Jennifer blushed bright crimson as she fought to form some suitable response. Instead, she ended up stammering, "No... that... that's not true at all. Not a word of it."
Red laughed again, taking a step closer to her as he did so. The sawed-off shotgun dangled casually yet dangerously in his left hand, as the right reached out to idly stroke a stray wisp of hair back from Jennifer's face. She winced at the sudden contact, as if some foul insect had suddenly dropped onto her flesh.
Red noted the reaction and ignored it. His rough fingers continued to lightly stroke her cheek and the soft side of her neck, trailing feathery little strokes downward almost to the collar line of her tight-fitting silk blouse. As he continued that absent-minded caress, he also continued speaking, his every word rubbing the salt of humiliation deeper into Jennifer's mental wounds.
"I'd say you were about ready, alright. Yes sir, I'd say you're about the juiciest little piece of ass I've seen in a good long time."
Now his words, and their inevitable meaning, took full effect on Jennifer, causing her to go suddenly pale even beneath the furious scarlet blush. She briefly considered making a dash for freedom, but realized that she had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Red turned slightly, tossing his weapon with a smooth underhand motion to Frankie, the bandit nearest him. "Keep on your toes, man," he snapped by way of instructions, "and if anybody gets out of line, decorate the joint with their brains." Frankie growled a rather eager agreement to the gruesome instructions, and Red turned his full attention back to Jennifer at last.
"I been admiring you ever since I first came in this joint," he remarked, apparently striving to impress her with the cheap compliment. Then, as if his soft words made everything alright, he added, "I think everybody else ought to get a chance to admire you the same way."
Jennifer was momentarily confused, shrugging slightly as she asked, "What? I don't know what you're talking about."
"It's simple, baby," Red leered mockingly. "You're gonna put on a little USO show for the troops here in the field." And then, in case the meaning of his words still eluded Jennifer, he lowered his voice to a hissing snarl and said, "Get naked!"
Jennifer felt the color rising once more to her cheeks, and she had begun to mutter some half-formed futile protest when the outlaw stepped toward her, his open palm lashing out with surprising speed. The blow to the side of her face rocked Jennifer back on her heels, leaving her ears ringing for long moments afterward. Red had drawn back his arm to strike again, but she threw up her hands in protective reaction, crying out to stop him in a voice that was both a sob and a plea for mercy.
"No!" she begged, "Please no. I... I'll do what you ask."
Red lowered his fist, smiling grim satisfaction as he snapped, "Get on with it, then!"
Jennifer backed a few steps away from the red-haired murderer, then lowered her gaze to a neutral point midway down the far wall and began the humiliating task of disrobing in front of old acquaintances and total strangers. Her trembling fingers went first to the buttons of her thin blouse, fumbling with awkwardness born of fear as they opened one of the tiny fastenings after another, slowly revealing the milky white flesh of her mounding breasts as it nestled in the revealing lacy cups of her brassiere. At last the blouse hung completely open, useless as cover for her ripe femininity, and she shrugged out of it entirely, letting it fall crumpled to the floor.
One of the other bandits gave a low wolf whistle as he ogled the firm, proud orbs of her breasts, but Red, standing directly in front of her, remained stoically silent. A solitary tear began its path from the corner of Jennifer's left eye, coursing wetly along her cheek to drop from her trembling jaw to the floor.
"Don't stop now, you're doing just fine," Red told her as he sensed her hesitation, his tone a strange mixture of admiring congratulations and subtle menace. Jennifer's mind locked upon the tone of menace, and her hands dropped woodenly, mechanically to the button and zipper fastenings of her snug-fitting skirt.
The button came open easily, and one of the outlaws sucked in his breath as his eyes followed the whirring zipper over the full womanly swell of her left hip. After a brief moment of squirming which set her breasts all a-jiggle to the delight of her tormentors, Jennifer was free of the skirt and letting it drop around her ankles, then kicking it away to join the crumpled remains of her blouse on the floor.
Jennifer felt suddenly faint as she stood there in front of her co-workers and the trio of ruthless murderers, clad now only in her lacy black bra and the almost transparent pair of matching little bikini panties. The eyes of the bandits raked over her body, and she almost imagined that she could feel the physical caress of lust wherever their gaze paused.
Jennifer needed no more threatening "encouragement" from Red, but continued stripping on her own as she realized the grim alternatives. Her fingers went to the clasp of her bra, a rather awkward motion which forced her to arch her back, thrusting the proud mounds of her breasts in the direction of Red's leering, watery eyes. Then the bra was sliding away, and with a little suppressed sob of humiliation, Jennifer let it join the wadded pile of other garments at her feet.
Her milky white breasts stood proud and firm even without the support of her bra. Jennifer was proud of her ripe woman's figure, in a modest sort of way, but that same modesty had always prevented her from adopting the braless styles which Barbara Nelson favored. She had always regard her body as something very private, not to be flaunted openly in revealing outfits, and so her present circumstances were all the more humiliating for the young woman. She sobbed softly, but the minor exertion only caused her full tits to bobble softly, her nipples executing tiny little acrobatics at the tips of those heaving mounds.
Jennifer was surprised-amazed, in fact-to find that those sensitive little nipple buds were beginning to tingle with the heated sensation that foretold coming erection. She supposed that some combination of intense fear and the relatively cold atmosphere of the air-conditioned vault must be working upon her flesh to cause the reaction, and yet it still disturbed her in some indefinable way. She had, however, very little time to spend on idle considerations of comparative anatomy.
Red was plainly pleased-perhaps enchanted was a better word-with the sight of her big breasts, but just as plainly, he was waiting for the rest of her succulent young flesh to be fully exposed to his gaze. Accordingly, rather than risk his murderous rage, Jennifer haltingly inserted the thumbs of both hands into the tight elastic waistband of her bikini panties. Slowly, so slowly in fact that Red might have suspected she was deliberately teasing him, Jennifer began to roll the tight little undergarments downward over the bell curve of her hips and firm young ass-cheeks. She cringed inside as the almost-transparent veil of her final protection cleared the upper fringe of her pubic triangle, then slid Still further downward, finally exposing the all of her nether flesh to the eyes of everyone in that crowded little room.
Jennifer had been conscious of some involuntary lubrication from her pussy earlier in that terror-haunted evening, as she observed the cruel assaults upon Barbara Nelson and Betty Simmons. Now, as she exposed her silken crotch to the cool air of the vault, she was surprised to learn from the instant chilling sensation that her pussy lips were still quite moist. She marveled at the effect, shamed and humiliated that such perverted surroundings could provoke even the moist minimal unconscious response on her part, but again, she had no time to spend on philosophical considerations.
She slowly rolled the crinkled little panties down the ivory columns of her thighs and calves, then kicked them away. Rising to her full height once more, she stood in front of Red and the others as naked as the day she was born, and she was very much aware of her increased vulnerability now to any crude form of sexual assault.
That expected assault was not long coming, either. Red stepped boldly closer, his two hand? reaching out like greedy claws to seize the fullness of her young woman's breasts. Jennifer shuddered inwardly at that first actual contact with her would-be rapist, but she managed to successfully hide any sign of rebellion which might have prompted some murderous retaliation against herself.
Red continued to knead and fondle her breasts, twirling his broad thumbs over and around her budding nipples until she felt as if that pink tender flesh was on fire from the chafing contact. Her nipples were becoming even more distended, shivering into instant rigid erection under the inciteful massage they were receiving, and Red clearly recognized that first tiny signal of impending bodily rebellion.
His hands continued to concentrate on those swollen breasts, milking and stroking the pliable orbs until Jennifer was trembling almost spastically in his hands. She was totally unable to either understand or control the sensations emanating from her abused breast flesh; there seemed to be nothing she could do but stand there and take it, and, at least involuntarily, begin to respond sensually within herself.
Light shivers had begun to run the length of Jennifer's firm young body, and she fought now to regain some measure of self-control by stiffening every muscle into instant stone-like rigidity. Unfortunately, the tactic only served to press her thighs closer together, thereby causing extra pressure and friction upon her already tingling little cuntal lips. A warm, glowing sensation was beginning in her upper torso, fanning outward and downward from her roughly manhandled breasts to invade the secret valley of her loins and ignite new flames of insipient passion there as well.
And through it all, Jennifer wept quietly, aware of her own dwindling control, yet powerless to do anything about the strong sensual tide running against her own better judgement. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, an ineffectual response to what Red was doing to her body with his own darting, swirling hands.
When Red abruptly changed his style, taking his questing hands from her stinging breasts and enfolding her suddenly in his own tight embrace, Jennifer was totally unprepared for the move. She gasped for breath as she was suddenly pulled tight against the outlaw's body, her tight nipples chafing now against his chest and the coarse material of his shirt. His clawed fingers dug into the satiny flesh of her back as he smothered her feeble moan of protest with a deep soul kiss.
The bandit's tongue invaded the moist warm cavern of Jennifer's mouth, dancing and probing as it flicked over her even rows of little white teeth, seeking and finding her own tongue for a subtle little erotic duel. The kiss strangely reminded her of Paul's, even to the unemotional tone of the whole encounter, and that thought may have been Jennifer Hunt's own undoing.
For suddenly, quite involuntarily, she found her tongue fencing and leaping to meet the bandit's. There was something immensely stimulating in that lustful oral caress, and she gave herself to the moment wholeheartedly, feeling her nipples blossom further into rigidity, noting the mounting dampness between her pouting little cuntal lips at the erotic sensations surging now through her young body.
Red's hands were roaming at will up and down her back, stroking her spine and shoulder blades, squeezing and kneading the firm hemispheres of her ripe ass-cheeks. Jennifer shivered and jerked as one fingertip made fleeting, taunting contact with the rubbery little ring of her anus and then was withdrawn. Her reflexive jump brought her body into even closer contact with that of her captor, and she was suddenly made aware of the rock hard bulge in his loins, the signal of his rampant penis which was nudging persistently against the downy triangle of her own completely exposed pubic hair.
Jennifer was suddenly weak in the knees, feeling as if she was about to topple to the floor. In reflex action, her arms shot out seeking some support, and found it in the shoulders of the outlaw who held her so tightly against him. Strangely, there was something almost... well, almost right... in the feeling she derived from being in his embrace, naked, but she chided herself at once that this was a shameful act, being forced upon her publicly in the presence of friends and strangers alike.
Red's cruel hands continued their lustful pilgrimage across the smooth planes and angles of her body, gradually slipping around her ribcage to rise beneath the full swell of her captive breasts once more, kneading and massaging those already aroused orbs of ultra-sensitive tingling flesh. Jennifer was breathing ever more rapidly, her heart fluttering like a captive bird inside her tightly-compressed ribcage.
She gasped startled, as one of the outlaw's big hands began to slide downward across the palpitating flesh of her flat little belly, homing with unerring accuracy on the curly thatch of her soft pubic hair. The man's other arm held her pinned tight against him with no hope or possibility of escape, and she could do little but squirm and sob fitfully as his probing fingers began their intimate examination of her moist and tender nether flesh.
Red gave a lewd grunt, somewhere between a growl and a chuckle, as his sense of touch telegraphed the message that Jennifer's young cunt was already wet and hotly dripping. The knowledge that this young woman had already become partially aroused, even if involuntarily, was sufficient to prompt Red's hands to even bolder questing movements. His fingers curled inward, cupping the whole luscious mound of her pussy, the tip of his long middle digit poking experimentally at the puckered little mouth of her vagina itself. Jennifer shivered from head to toe at the raging sensations of traitorous arousal which that probing touch set off inside her own body, but she could do nothing to prevent further outrages being perpetrated upon her flesh.
Jennifer's smooth, long legs were seized by an uncontrollable trembling as Red continued to stroke and manipulated the soft flesh of her pussy lips with a methodical, sensuous rhythm. After a few moments of the torment, she was surprised to find herself gently rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet with each tingling stroke, all the while moaning softly deep in her throat.
The probing tip of Red's thick middle finger continued to nudge tauntingly at the puckered little opening of Jennifer's vaginal canal, now and then pausing in its thrusting motions to twirl lightly and teasingly about the moist coralline flesh surrounding that little nether mouth. Jennifer could feel tiny beads of perspiration springing out all over her body, the unmistakable sex sweat of a woman becoming deeply and irreversibly aroused. And all the while, the outlaw's hand continued its churning, massaging actions in her needing crotch, driving her onward and upward toward some new plateau of arousal.
Jennifer was more than a little surprised when Red's hands suddenly left her body altogether, and she could not entirely suppress a little moan of frustrated disappointment that rose unbidden in her throat. Her eyes snapped open, to find the outlaw standing about three feet away from her grinning from ear to ear as he carefully scrutinized every vibrant and trembling inch of her ripe young woman's body.
When he stepped toward her again, after a long moment, Jennifer almost cringed away from him, but the combined fear of reprisal and the latent memory of how good his hands had felt on her flesh served to stop her from actually breaking away. She closed her eyes again, resolving to accept stoically whatever this man of evil might choose to do to her naked and vulnerable flesh.
Still, when it came, it took Jennifer completely by surprise.
The sudden wet, sucking contact between Red's hot oral cavity and the straining nipple of her tingling right breast was something which Jennifer had neither expected nor mentally prepared herself for. Again came the instant feeling of faintness and falling, the weakness in her knees which could only be staved off by reaching and clutching fiercely at Red's broad shoulders. Her clawed fingers sank into the material of his clothing as she wobbled there, fighting to remain upright.
Red's mouth worked avidly at her breast, sucking forcefully at the straining bud of her nipple, while all the time his active tongue swirled and probed around the puckered pink halo of her aureole. The sensations inspired by that forceful oral attack were sending shivers of undeniable response throughout Jennifer's torso, lighting answering fires of lust in the churning little depths of her cunt.
Red sensed Jennifer's trembling weakness and quickly capitalized on it, switching his hungry mouth from one nipple bud to the other, provoking yet another startled gasp from the young girl he held captive. His big hands came up, cupping the soft orbs of breast flesh and compressing them so that his sucking mouth and darting long tongue could work on both cherry nipples simultaneously, a tactic which truly set the blood pounding in Jennifer's temples, causing her to cling all the more tightly to his shoulders to keep from falling.
Jennifer's head began to roll loosely back and forth on her shoulders, her long, satiny hair swishing back and forth across her smooth shoulder and back flesh as she picked up an unconscious nodding rhythm to match the working of Red's slavering tongue and lips upon her tingling breasts. Small, almost melodic groans of sheer sensual pleasure were issuing from between her tightly clenched teeth, filling the vault with sound as surely as if she had been shouting wildly.
It seemed to Jennifer as if her entire universe had suddenly been greatly compressed, and centered in the tingling, burning nerve centers of her avidly sucked and tongued little nipples. Nothing else existed for her beyond the waves of sensuous eroticism even then coursing from the jiggling orbs of her tits to set complementary fires of lust raging throughout her lower torso as well.
Red's hands left her breasts, though his hungry mouth continued working eagerly on the tingling little buds of her nipples. At the same instant, his calloused palms were sliding smoothly down her quivering sides, pausing long enough to cup and knead her plump buttocks, and then working their way around the topping swell of her hips to meet at the furred juncture of her thighs. His hands worked in unison, forcefully nudging those thighs further apart, insinuating themselves into the moist and dripping valley which nestled hidden there.
A low moan of mingled humiliation and irrepressible sexual response was squeezed out of Jennifer as Red's hands went to work in her crotch, stroking and teasing, thrusting and tugging on the pouting lips of her most private genitals. Great tremors of aching need rippled through her body, blending with the fiery sensations which his eager mouth touched off in her vibrating tits to create a single overpowering aura of lust all about her.
Her knees began to fold, and suddenly she was dipping crazily toward the floor. Red was holding her with his strong hands, but making absolutely no effort to keep her on her feet. Instead, she suddenly realized as her smooth back made jarring contact with the cold tile of the vault's floor, the bandit was following her down, letting her recline there on the cool floor while he knelt beside her like a beast of prey waiting to pounce.
His hands freed themselves from the saving grip upon her slender shoulders, free once more to ramble at will over the proud thrusting swell of her tits and downward across her fluttering belly to the moist treasures beyond. Jennifer found herself undulating slowly, unconsciously, as she lay there on the floor, in plain sight of her friends and the other robbers, receiving the lewd manual attentions of this man whom she had never met before in her life.
This is shameful, her conscience chided, in an ever-weakening voice, but Jennifer was forced to admit to herself that she was responding at least a little now to the lewd attentions which Red lavished upon her writhing young torso.
She felt Red slowly, inexorably changing positions, shifting his weight until his body was positioned between her legs, kneeling there and openly licking his lips at the sight of so much feminine flesh openly displayed for his enjoyment. He placed his palms on the inside of her thighs once more, again levering her smooth legs apart until the furry plane of her genitals was wide open and completely exposed to his lecherous gaze.
Jennifer closed her eyes tightly, unable to witness her own humiliation even though she gave in to his advances without apparent protest. Something inside her seemed to cry out that if only she ignored what Red was doing, somehow she might wake up to a different reality and find that this had all been a vile and terrible dream, a nightmare.
The sudden wet touch of Red's darting tongue high on the soft white flesh of Jennifer's inner thigh shocked her mind back to instant reality, away from the half formed world of fantasy in which she had sought temporary escape. She propped herself up on her elbows, craning her slender neck to look down between the deep valley of her breasts and along her heaving abdomen to where Red crouched now between her widely splayed thighs.
The outlaw was bending forward, his mouth working its way wetly along the inner surface of her thigh, homing instinctively on the moist, pouting little lips of her cunt. The thought of his mouth touching her there, the very idea of his lips and tongue darting, kissing and sucking that nether flesh, filled her soul with a sort of hollow, soul-numbing dread. Surely, anything he could possible do to her would be preferable to that! "No... please," she whimpered helplessly, "I can't stand that. Don't kiss me there, please!"
But his mouth was already there, lapping wetly at the portal of her aching, needing little vagina. She watched, both fascinated and horrified as the pink tip of his tongue flicked out and slid teasingly along the hairy furrow of her outer cunt, setting off jangling alarm bells of incipient passion in her loins and mind at the same time.
An uncontrollable shivering seemed to seize Jennifer's body, and she was suddenly shaking so badly that she was forced to drop back full length upon the floor, her breath escaping from tortured lungs in a long sigh of hopeless despair.
Red's mouth had fastened tightly upon Jennifer's cunt now, his lips and tongue working in diabolical partnership to milk her secret genitals for every last tingle of burning desire. The outlaw inhaled great mouthfuls of pussy flesh, trapping first one of those pouting nether lips and then the other between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, sucking and gnawing until the young female bank clerk arched her back from the tile floor in a rictus of pleasure-pain.
At length, Red used the blunt fingers of his hands to gently pry apart the bloating little lips of Jennifer's clasping cunt. He saw the little mouth of her vaginal canal there, seeming to wink at him in an erotic Morse code which fairly shouted a primeval message of welcome to his own throbbing penis. But the outlaw was not through playing with his victim yet, and so he ignored that age-old beckoning signal for the time being, his attention and his mouth homing instead on the erect little bud of Jennifer's rosy clitoris.
The young woman let out a breathless little cry of shock as she felt Red's front teeth close tightly around the ultrasensitive little clitoral bud. A sharp burning pain threatened to envelop her entire lower body, and tears of agony were already clustered in the narrow corners of her eyes, when the man suddenly brought his educated tongue into action, and the whole picture changed. A powerful explosion of erotic sensation was suddenly detonated in the pit of her stomach, and her hips and ass came quickly up front the floor in an involuntary response reaction.
No other sensation in Jennifer's life had been so powerful, so intense, as that generated by the vicious outlaw's flicking, lapping, rapidly circling tongue as it lashed the captive little bud of her clitoris into an erotic frenzy of desire. The room seemed to be swimming all about Jennifer, and she could both feel and hear the pulse of her own blood pounding loudly in her ears.
Red plainly sensed and evaluated the reactions of his young captive as he quickly redoubled his oral efforts at the moist gateway of her cunt. He sucked and licked at her clit, then deserted that throbbing little pleasure bud to thrust the tip of his curled and stiffened tongue directly into the winking eye of Jennifer's waiting vagina.
The reaction provoked by this latest oral assault was both powerful and unmistakable. Jennifer cried out loud, a coarse, strangled sound which surprised everyone in the tiny vault, and her entire body went suddenly rigid from head to toe. Her hips fairly leaped upward from the cold tile floor, buffeting the moist furrow of her cunt closer and tighter against the outlaw's provocatively working tongue and lips. Her legs shot out, ramrod straight and quivering with a sort of fierce erotic tension. And then, suddenly, out of conscious control from the master nerve centers of her brain, Jennifer's hands shot out clawlike to tangle in the fiery thatch of Red's bright hair, tugging his hungry mouth ever closer into the sizzling slit of her pussy.
Jennifer began to mewl out tiny, pleading cries for more, all the while holding the outlaw's face captive against the aching, needing valley of her cunt. All else beside the fierce hunger in her own bucking loins had long since been banished from her mind by the powerful sensations brewing there. No thought could find room in her mind except for the all-consuming need and desire to seek and find the ultimate in sensual fulfillment from the tongue and lips which worked so avidly at her vagina.
Red savored his great measure of control over the young bank teller, milking the moment for all it was worth as he avidly sucked and gnawed upon the coralline flesh of that moist nether valley. He let his swirling tongue tip dance and frolic about the wetly clasping mouth of her cuntal orifice, provoking still more powerful spasms of burning lust in the young girl's already shivering and quaking body. He lapped his way along the splayed slit of her cunt, sucking in the fragrant juices of her arousal as if they were the finest wine.
Jennifer feared that she might be going insane, so powerful were the forbidden emotions and feelings wracking her body. Just when she thought that she had experienced it all, that there was nothing new which Red could possibly do, no new indignity to which he could subject her, she found that he still had more than one surprise in store after all.
The outlaw withdrew his sucking mouth several inches from the wet valley of her cunt, and then bobbed his head forward again, jabbing the hot tip of his searching tongue against the puckered little ring of her rubbery anal sphincter. The resulting sensation was so powerful, and so totally unexpected, that Jennifer's entire luscious young body was snapped upward from the floor as if she had received a strong electric shock at the seat of her loins.
"Oh God," she groaned, grinding her teeth loudly together as she fought against the forbidden sensations sweeping even then through her lower torso. "Not there... no... puhleaseeeeee!"
Red ignored her, fastening his hungry mouth over the tiny little ring of her asshole and flicking his tongue evermore rapidly around that secret portal, to Jennifer's extreme discomfort and humiliation. She tried to squirm away from him, sliding her back across the cold tile floor, but her limbs seemed strangely unable to respond to the mental command, and Red was easily able to hold her in place simply by placing a hand on either of her full hips.
Jennifer Hunt thrashed helplessly there on the floor, the awareness of her position and how it must look to everyone else in the vault chamber bearing down upon her mind with a crushing weight. And yet, despite the humiliation and angry frustration which surged and battled within her, she found herself oddly unable to physically resist even this ultimate degrading assault upon her twisting, naked loins.
The bizarre sensation which first accompanied the oral caress of her tiny little anus had given way to something entirely different, a sensation which Jennifer's tortured mind was forced to involuntarily recognize as a sort of warm and sensual pleasure. Almost before she knew it, that warmth was transforming itself into a white heat, the burning, erotic flame of lust which threatened to consume her lower body as she lay there writhing on the floor, with a total stranger sucking and licking at her cunt and anus.
When Red suddenly withdrew his mouth from the furred valley between her thighs, Jennifer was actually stunned. A tiny whine of disappointment and... yes, dammit, frustration... sounded in her throat, drawing a lewd knowing chuckle from her red-haired tormentor. She propped herself up on one elbow, staring in stunned curiosity at the bandit as he crouched there between her widely splayed thighs, rocking slowly back and forth on his haunches and chuckling softly to himself.
At length, after what seemed a confusing eternity to the young girl, Red dropped to a normal kneeling position between her legs, both hands going to the bulging fly of his trousers. She watched, like a hypnotized bird watches the approaching serpent, while the outlaw slowly, tauntingly lowered that zipper and thrust the fingers of one hand into the dark cavern which opened there. After a moment of fumbling with his straining undergarments, Red was finally successful, and Jennifer could not refrain from a tiny gasp of shock as the massive blood-engorged pole of his cock was suddenly exposed to her sight.
Jennifer Hunt was awed by the sight of that gigantic penis, waving freely there between her thighs like some evil magicians wand. She was not a virgin... though practically so, having made love with only one man, and that more than eighteen months earlier at the peak of a depressing affair... yet still she wondered whether it was possible for her body to take that powerful rod of flesh and muscle without some severe internal damage to herself.
Red was giving her no time to mentally debate the question. He moved swiftly, dropping forward across her body so that his weight was supported on one outstretched hand, and the other hand was free to guide his penis toward Jennifer's frightened little cunt. Her mind cried out for her to fight or flee, but again she seemed strangely rooted to the spot, unable to pull away from the steadily advancing tip of that fleshy battering ram.
She winced and let out a little groan of surprised pain as the blunt purple glans of Red's cock made its first nudging contact with the rubbery mouth of her vaginal canal. Sharp waves of pain washed over her loins as she felt as though she would surely be split in two by the thickness of that penile shaft. Slowly, achingly, Red warmed his cock through the tiny, clasping portal of Jennifer's cunt, until the first crucial inch was firmly lodged there inside the circular walls of elastic muscle.
Both of them paused, as if by prearrangement, for a short breather, and then Red was nudging his hips inexorably forward once again. Jennifer cried out loud, tears of pain and outrage coursing down her pale cheeks as she flailed her head limply from side to side, awash in a sea of all-consuming pain that went on and on forever.
"Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!!!! You're killing me!!" she cried, somewhat less than truthfully in her anxiety to bring that unfamiliar pain to a quick end.
Red paid no attention to her pleas for mercy, driving his thick cock another inch, and then another, deeper into the moist tunnel of Jennifer's hot little vagina. Already he could feel the elastic walls unconsciously dilating, stretching to accommodate the penile invasion, and he grinned to himself as a sudden limpness in the girl's limbs announced that she was receiving the same sensual message of impending surrender.
Jennifer Hunt was shocked at how quickly that unbearable pain had vanished from her widespread loins. In its place was first a feeling of blessed numbness, but that in turn quickly gave way to an entirely new... and startlingly pleasant sensation of caressing warmth. That warmth continued to mount, gradually fanning itself into a raging forest fire of lust as Red stroked the embers of her cunt with the driving, pistoning rod of his massive prick.
The outlaw was breathing heavily now, totally engrossed in his chosen task of driving the tight-assed little bank teller to a shattering sexual orgasm. He was determined that he would force that ultimate surrender from her loins before giving in to his own powerful climax, and from the blank, slack-jawed expression already on the young girl's face, the rapid clenching of her fists and the lolling of her head from side to side, he felt certain that he would not have too much longer to wait.
Jennifer felt her own body begin to undulate, her full hips picking up an unconscious fucking tempo to rival the driving rhythm of Red's pelvis as his prick sluiced wetly in and out of her now-receptive little pussy. Tiny groans of mingled shame and mounting pleasure were forced from her throat as his pelvis smacked loudly against her splayed crotch on every inward stroke. She could scarcely believe the traitorous reaction of her own young body as she willingly submitted herself to this lewd fucking by a total stranger who she knew to be a murderer.
Red could recognize the clear signals of oncoming surrender in Jennifer's face and in the writhing motions of her undulating body. He felt the pent-up store of hot semen struggling to overflow the tight reservoir of his testicles, and bit hard into his lower lip, focusing his mind on those dead officers in the outer lobby as he fought to repress his own mounting excitement. He was still determined that Jennifer would come first, in spite of her own natural reluctance, and to that end he redoubled his fucking tempo, driving his prick ever more forcefully into the raging depths of the young bank teller's captive little twat.
It seemed to Jennifer that some powerful erotic superbomb had suddenly been detonated without warning in the very pit of her heaving little belly. Her limbs were suddenly rigid, her back arching and rigid little nipple buds pointing the way to the ceiling as she trembled in the first throes of the most powerful orgasm in her limited experience. She shivered from head to toe, her teeth chattering audibly as if she was trapped in the grip of a fierce tropic fever. And suddenly, beginning at the very center of her cunt, then spiraling outward in a stinging, instantaneous spiral circuit of her spine, a cold chill unlike any she had ever felt raced its dynamite path to her brain, exploding at the base of her reeling skull in a shower of shooting stars and swirling colors that swam before her blank eyes.
"Aaaaaauuuuugggghhhh!!!! IIIImmmmmmmm ccccccuuuuuuuummmmmmiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggg!!!!" she wailed mindlessly, unconscious of the pain as her naked heels drummed hard on the tile floor.
Jennifer's head lolled crazily from side to side, dark hair fanning out in a thin veil to cover her sweating face. Her body pitched and rolled, her back arching and undulating as she gave herself totally and uncontrollably to the most overwhelmingly powerful sensual experience of her life.
Red could no longer contain his own orgasm, as the madly sucking internal muscles of Jennifer's tight little snatch milked and tugged at the pleasure-giving rod of his penis. He let himself go then, satisfied to have forced the admission of surrender from his captive first, now pounding his hips forward and burying his rod to the hilt as he hammered on toward his own mind-boggling release.
When it came, Red could feel the scalding flood of sperm erupt lava-like from the volcano of his balls, racing along the mighty shaft of his cock to explode in thick, viscous spurts deep into Jennifer Hunt's heaving little belly. Her cunt muscles continued to gnaw his cock, straining unconsciously in their inherent mission, drawing every last ounce of life-creating fluid from his tingling testicles.
"Aaaaarrrrrgggggghhhh!!!" Red's admission of orgasm was a wordless growl, accompanied by one final, bone-shaking thrust of his pelvis, hiking his penis in the clasping channel of Jennifer's tight, pulsating, spasming pussy.
At long last, after seconds and minutes which seemed like eternities to the intertwined couple on the tile floor of the vault, it was over. Red withdrew his rapidly deflating penis from the tight canal of Jennifer's pussy with a wet little sucking sound, and rocked back on his haunches, tucking his cock away once more in the tight confines of his trousers and drawing the zipper closed with a familiar rasping sound. He rose to his feet, towering over Jennifer's nude and prostrate form like a colossus, a conquering ape-man above the fallen body of his prey.
Jennifer rose slowly to one elbow, shaking her head cautiously to clear it of the echoing sounds and swirling lights which had swept her away beyond the peaks of sexual ecstasy to a fantasy dream world all her own. She looked about her now, with eyes only then becoming reaccustomed to the real world of the vault and her captivity, reaching out one trembling hand to retrieve the crumpled pile of useless clothing at her side.
Someone stepped in the way, kicking her clothes aside with one foot. Two legs, jean clad, long and towering beyond the field of Jennifer's vision. She fought down a sudden wave of dizziness and the accompanying nausea, leaning back far enough to raise her eyes along those legs and to the face which floated high above them.
It was Duke, the tallest of the robbers. And behind him, and slightly to one side, stood the other one, Frankie. Both of them were letting their eyes roam across her exposed nudity with obvious lecherous interest, and lewd little twisted half-smiles broke their ugly faces.
"No so fast, bitch," Duke purred, again kicking her pile of rumpled clothing, sending the items skittering clear across the room away from her reach. "You ain't done yet, ya hear?"
"Tha's right," Frankie chimed in, all the while leering at Jennifer's wobbling breasts and lust-soaked crotch. "Red got his... now we gotta get ours!"
A choked sob caught in Jennifer's throat as she realized the full meaning of those words, and even as clarity of mind returned to her, the outlaws were upon her!
CHAPTER FIVE
A faint whimpering sound rose unbidden in young Jennifer Hunt's throat as the two thieves quickly positioned themselves with one on either side of her. She briefly tried to slide away from them across the cold tile floor of the vault, but there was no way possible for her to evade their quicker movements as she lay prostrate upon the floor.
Each man dropped smoothly to his knees, each on his own side of the trembling young woman. They leered at her, like two evil cats about to begin their sadistic games with a captive mouse, but neither made any immediate move to lay hands upon her ripe young body. Instead, she watched in abject horror as they slowly, tauntingly began to remove their own clothing.
Jennifer was sobbing softly by the time both men had stripped down to their worn and soiled underclothing. Her eyes were drawn irresistibly to the massive bulge at each man's crotch, where his rampant penis thrust angrily against the tightly-stretched material of his shorts. And then those shorts were being quickly lowered, exposing to either side of her a long, throbbing pole of male genital flesh, each aiming directly at her pale and trembling young body like an enemy arrow poised to strike.
In spite of Jennifer's mental efforts to prepare for the coming ordeal, the first slight touch on her flesh startled her nevertheless. She snapped her head around, finding herself in a face-to-face confrontation with Duke, as the outlaw slowly ran his calloused hand back and forth over the smooth ivory flesh of her naked shoulder. He was breathing rapidly, and Jennifer could not help but notice that his erect penis seemed to grow in both length and girth as he slowly stroked her flesh.
Almost immediately, a similar touch drew her attention to her other side, and there she found the mustachioed Frankie leering at her as he, too, stroked her shoulder lightly with one hand. Jennifer noticed an identical reaction in that outlaw's rigid penile flesh, and she knew in her heart that the ultimate assault upon her young body would not be long postponed. A sudden sound startled Jennifer out of her trembling anticipation, and she was surprised to find that Frankie was speaking to her in a low, almost soothing voice.
"Relax, little lady," the killer said. "Duke and me know how to take good care of a woman. We done it together lotsa times before."
"Hell yes," the lanky Duke chimed in, "You just relax and you'll see you enjoy double-fucking better than single-fucking any day!"
Jennifer's young mind recoiled from what the men seemed to be saying. Surely, she thought, they can't intend to both... fuck me... not at the same time!
But that, obviously, was exactly what Duke and Frankie did intend to do, for now they were roughly pushing and pulling at Jennifer's body, forcing her flat on her back as their hands began to roam at will over the hills and valleys of her luscious young flesh. Duke was kissing her passionately on the lips, while his hand manipulated the pliant flesh and already rigid nipple of her right breast. At the same time, Frankie started licking and nibbling his way along the soft curve of her throat, his mouth homing on the erect little peak of her other breast. Frankie's hand, meanwhile, strayed teasingly across the fluttering plane of her flat little belly to lock upon the pouting mound of her lightly furred crotch.
Jennifer was engulfed in a bizarre sensation as if her body was out of touch with solid earth and her mind far out of touch with reality. The multiple contacts of hand and mouth upon her undulating young torso were slowly but surely driving her into a renewed state of sensual arousal equaling, if not surpassing, that which Red had so recently forced upon her. There was the same anticipatory tingling in her breasts and loins, suffusing into a warm glowing sensation that fanned outward from her lewdly sucked and handled erogenous zones to envelop her entire torso.
Jennifer blushed furiously as she felt her traitorous young woman's body beginning once more to respond against her will to the indignities being visited upon her. There seemed to be no avenue of escape for her reeling mind or tortured young body, as she felt herself slipping away into the swirling abyss of abandoned sexuality. She moaned hopelessly, the sound at once one of both despair and desire.
Duke's tongue was dueling with hers in a lustful little dance of mounting passion, even as Frankie's mouth fastened itself upon the straining nipple of one proud breast. Jennifer felt the sex secretions of her tender young cunt flowing ever more freely as she began to surrender, albeit reluctantly, to the multiple assaults which tormented her captive body. Her nipples ached to the point that she feared they would surely explode like some over-ripe fruit, so powerful were the inciting sensations generated by Duke's rotating hand and Frankie's lewdly sucking mouth.
It seemed to young Jennifer Hunt that an eternity had slipped past when suddenly, without warning, the two partners were again pushing and hauling her pliant body into a new position. She now found herself lying on one side, facing Duke, pinned between the naked men like a slab of meat in some obscene sandwich. Two rampaging cocks nudged relentlessly against her belly and buttocks as the men moved in an anticipatory fucking rhythm against her naked torso.
The thick glans of Duke's penis was probing experimentally into the moist valley of her cunt, setting off jangling little alarm bells of mingled pain and passion. She squirmed her full hips backward, seeking some escape from that lecherous advance, but succeeded only in trapping the rigid rod of Frankie's prick in the tight valley between her round young asscheeks in the process. Pinned there, Jennifer could offer no effective resistance to the probing of Duke's penis into the wet fertile canyon of her crotch.
The scar-faced bandit was breathing heavily as he used one hand to manipulate the head of his cock up and down Jennifer's steamy little vaginal slit. At the same time, she could feel Frankie moving lewdly against her, sliding his rigid pole of male genital flesh back and forth along the crack of her tight little ass. His hands had slipped forward around her body, capturing her breasts in a viselike grip from which there was no escape. Jennifer winced and cried out softly in pain as his thumbs and forefingers fastened in a pincer grip upon the tingling little cherry buds of her nipples.
Tears of frustrated pain coursed freely down Jennifer Hunt's pale cheeks as she was buffeted between the hard bodies of her two outlaws. The multiple sources of pain and irritation on her body produced an over-all throbbing sensation which she could not readily identify with either pain or masochistic pleasure. Already, the hot pain in her abused little nipple buds was giving way to a satisfying kind of sensual warmth which spread across the whole of her upper body. And, she was forced to admit, the lustful probing of Duke's rigid penis in her furry little crotch was likewise producing some strong sensations which were not entirely unwelcome, either.
Jennifer groaned aloud and gritted her white teeth tightly together as the head of Duke's cock made sudden accidental contact with the blood-engorged little pleasure bud of her tiny clitoris. An electric spasm of instant sensual pleasure raced the full length of Jennifer's body, leaving her limp and trembling when it had passed. She had no strength nor will to resist him as he shifted positions between her legs, using hands and knees to lever her firm young thighs farther apart and thus gain easier access to the moistened valley of her pussy. Jennifer felt rather like a rag doll or puppet, meant only to be positioned and manipulated at the will and to the satisfaction of the master puppeteer.
Duke swiftly positioned himself between Jennifer's splayed thighs, so that the thick glans of his cock was poised directly at the puckered little mouth of her clasping pussy. With one smooth and sudden thrust, he slipped his penis upward and into that tight, velvety channel, already made pliable and moist by Red's vigorous fucking of only moments before. At impact, his heavy testicles swung forward like a fleshy pendulum and smacked lewdly against Jennifer's round young buttocks.
Jennifer's breath was forced from her lungs by the impact of Duke's initial skewering thrust. It took her a long moment to recover from that impaling blow, and then she began a vain effort to rid herself of the penetrating invasion of her cunt. All squirming efforts were to no avail, however, and at length Jennifer resigned herself to being the vessel by which Duke would finally sate his lewd and sadistic lust.
The young woman was surprised to note that her pussy gave off none of the ripping pain which she had felt during the early stages of Red's violent fucking. Instead, there was to begin with a warm and rather satisfying glowing sensation, slowly spreading from the fertile valley between her thighs to envelop her entire lower body. Already the rubbery walls of her pussy were stretching to accommodate the massive penis lodged there within her, and she noted a definite pulsating sensation which foretold the beginnings of a positive sensual response to the lewd fucking.
At the same time, Frankie was continuing his vigorous massage of Jennifer's conical breasts, milking and stroking those fleshy mounds and their rigid little nipple peaks until she was forced to squirm with pounding rhythms of incipient desire from that source as well as from the pounding penetration of her cunt. She was surprised... and more than slightly disappointed... when Frankie removed one of his hands left her tits and slowly traversed the undulating length of her torso. She could feel the knuckles of that hand chafing against her buttocks as Frankie lewdly stroked and manipulated his own massive cock, and for a moment Jennifer was at a total loss to understand what he was doing... or what he had in mind for her.
The sudden, unexpected nudging of his penile head at the tight, rubbery mouth of her little anus instantly erased that naive questioning from Jennifer Hunt's startled mind. The cruel outlaw apparently intended to fuck her in the ass! Her mind rebelled at the loathsome and perverted idea, and for the first time since Red's huge cock had ripped into her body, she found positive strength to try to resist what was being forced upon her.
"No!... Not there!... You can't!" Jennifer cried desperately, all the while thrusting and squirming her hips forward in an effort to evade the fat cock probing between her ass cheeks. The maneuver accomplished little, except for further exciting Duke, whose pussy-pounding cock was the glad recipient of every wiggle and thrust on Jennifer's part as she squirmed away from Frankie.
A second, stronger thrust against the tight ring of her anal sphincter told Jennifer that her evasive movements had been far from successful. Even though she could tell the cock had not actually penetrated her asshole, but was merely stretching the outer little portal of elastic muscles, the pain was already reaching unbearable proportions.
"Aaarrrrggghhh!!!" Jennifer groaned loudly through clenched teeth, "Stop it, please! I... I can't... stand it!!"
Her pitiful cries for relief only seemed to spur Frankie on to ever greater strivings against her little anal ring, and now, for the first time, Jennifer could note with agonizing clarity the first real penetration of his cock into her rectum. Only the fat tip was inside her yet, but already she felt as if a thick red-hot iron was being driven forcefully into her tight little nether opening.
Tears streamed unashamedly down Jennifer's face as she sobbed out her frustrated agony. "Oh Gggooooddd!" she sobbed, "Puhleese! You... you... you're tearing me apart! I can't take it!"
"You can... and you will!" Frankie grated breathlessly, still managing to force a triumphant little laugh into his straining voice as he ground his wide hips ever further forward to impale Jennifer's little ass all the more. Duke, meanwhile, continued his frontal fucking unabated, every thrust of his pelvis serving to drive Jennifer back further against Frankie, worming that second impaling rod deeper and deeper into her virginal little asshole.
"Jeeeesus!
You're killing mmmeeeeeeee!!!!" Jennifer's wailing plea for mercy was abruptly cut off into a strangled little squeal of pain as Frankie pounded his hips forward, driving his fat cock into her rectum all the way to the hilt.
For a long agonizing moment, neither bandit moved, content to merely hold Jennifer pinned there between them like a rare specimen of butterfly on the collector's display board. Then, as if by a prearranged and well-practiced signal, both men picked up a complementary fucking tempo, sluicing their cocks in and out of the young girl's impaled body in time with one another. Jennifer moaned and sobbed softly, hopelessly, as a raging inferno of pain seemed to envelop her entire lower body, seated at the heart of her violated little rectum.
Neither rapist paid the slightest bit of attention to her sobbing or the mewling little cries of pain which issued from her throat at sporadic intervals. Both men were by now too engrossed in the sensations which her warm, tight and vibrant secret flesh was transmitting to the pistoning rods of their cocks, sensations driving them onward and upward toward the ultimate goal of mind-shattering orgasm.
Jennifer's fuddled mind began to clear ever so slowly, and she noted that the searing pain in her virgin asshole seemed somewhat abated. She became more conscious of other internal sensations, especially one in the pit of her belly, where both men's cocks seemed to meet on their powerful instrokes, separated only by a very thin and very sensitive partition of elastic, yielding flesh. The girl's entire lower body felt as if it were imprisoned in a churning cement mixer, twisted this way and that, completely out of control by her mind and muscles.
Jennifer could feel Duke's pubic pone pummeling against the tiny pleasure bud of her clitoris on each inward stroke of his powerful cock, the rhythmic chafing only serving to further incite flames of lust and passion in her abused young loins. At the same time, she was rather shocked to find that the tight and aching muscles of her raped virgin anus were beginning to relax noticeably, sending out slow rippling waves of sensual warmth across the complex network of her nervous system, arousing her entire body into unconscious responsive undulations.
Duke and Frankie began to sense their impending victory, stepping up the pace of their timed, rhythmic attack upon Jennifer's cunt and asshole. One again the little vault chamber was filled with the wet, sluicing sounds of lewd and abandoned fucking, redoubled this time as Jennifer was penetrated from both sides simultaneously. Her body became the luscious fleshy quiver into which those lightning arrow thrusts were directed.
Small, mewling cries were being forced rhythmically from Jennifer's straining throat, a concrete demonstration of her own mounting passionate response. Her torso began to undulate almost spastically, her hips thrusting forward and backward to take utmost advantage of both those cruelly impaling penile shafts.
"Uuuunnnggghhh!!!" she moaned deeply, all thought of pain and suffering at last erased from mind and body by the terrific sensual warmth emanating from her cunt and asshole.
In the midst of that semi-conscious reverie, Jennifer was suddenly distracted by a movement at her head, and the shuffling sound of feet moving across the tiles there. She opened her misty eyes in time to see a man dropping to his knees in front of her face, and after a brief moment of confusion she recognized the worn trousers as those worn by Red, the leader of the outlaws and her own first rapist on that day of trial and ordeal.
The bandit leader was watching her predicament with strangely glowing eyes, his gaze following every movement of the lewdly intertwined trio there before him on the cold floor. Red was breathing heavily, and once again the crotch of his pants was bulging with the surging muscular presence of his erect penis hidden there beneath the stretched material.
One of Red's hands went to his zipper, and he lowered that fastening with the now-familiar rasping sound of metal upon metal. His cock sprang almost instantly into quivering visibility, bringing a little gasp of surprise to Jennifer's throat. For, although she was readily familiar with that imposing tool by now, she was shocked to find that it was already recovered from the earlier ordeal of lewd and vigorous fucking which he had inflicted upon her pussy. And yet, the evidence displayed before her very eyes could not be denied... his penis definitely teas erect and ready for action, the purple glans surmounted by a single pearly drop of pre-ejaculate fluid which flashed and glistened with iridescent sheen before her eyes.
That pulsating blue veined male organ was moving ever nearer to her face, the thick purple glans bobbing before her slitted eyes like a hypnotist's coin, threatening to lull her into a vague and semi-conscious state. Her breathing became more labored, though whether because of her mental state or from the continued double fucking of her loins below she could not have said.
The touch of Red's velvety cock head upon her moist and open lips jarred the young woman's mind back to reality. She recoiled from that ultimate perverted degradation, twisting her head from side to side as she struggled to escape from that probing, searching organ. The outlaw would allow her no escape, however, and he tangled his clawed fingers in her long silky hair, immobilizing her head with her mouth again on a level with his cock.
Desperate, rapidly loosing her last vestiges of self control as Duke and Frankie fucked into her cunt and ass with powerful strokes, Jennifer clenched her teeth tightly together, her lips molded into a narrow line of grim determination. Red was not to be put off, however, and with his free hand he reached forward, pinching off Jennifer's nostrils so that she could no longer breathe without opening her mouth.
Jennifer Hunt endured that torture for a full forty-five seconds, all the while buffeted below by the rampaging cocks of Duke and Frankie, but at last she could stand it no longer. She opened her mouth wide to inhale a great gasping breath of air, and at the same instant Red buried his fat cock to the hilt in her tender young throat.
Jennifer was sure she was dying, choking to death of the meaty girth of the killer outlaw's prick. Suddenly, however, she found that he had released his death grip on her nostrils, and she was able to breathe without difficulty through her nose. Still, there was an indescribable feeling of choking, gagging, which threatened Jennifer with nausea and unconsciousness at any moment.
The young girl's mind was reeling on the brink of stupor when she suddenly, and to her immense surprise, found her throat seeming to expand somehow, actually accommodating the skewering length and width of Red's pistoning cockflesh. After a few long moments, with the sensations from her ravaged cunt and asshole overwhelming her once more, Jennifer began to regard the penile invasion of her warm little mouth as a rather sensual erotic experience. Her pink little tongue flicked out experimentally, lapping lightly along the soft underside of Red's glans.
The outlaw's reaction was immediate and emphatic. Both his hands tangled now in Jennifer's long hair, pulling her face ever closer to his loins, while his hips picked up an even faster fucking rhythm into her slack jaws. Encouraged, the girl, who this time experienced no strangling sensation whatever, began to run her tongue sinuously along the full length of Red's penis as it skewered in and out of her mouth and throat.
Red, like his partners, was panting heavily now, his eyes clenched tightly shut as he drove himself onward toward the ultimate goal of mind-reeling orgasm. Jennifer, the recipient of those multiple attentions, likewise felt herself teetering on the narrow edge between frustration and total sexual fulfillment. Her hips began to buck back and forth more rapidly, forcefully, and all the while her hungry mouth was milking at Red's thick tool with a passion which she herself found unbelievable. In that terrible, timeless moment, nothing on earth seemed to matter beyond the attainment of climax at the earliest possible second.
Red, surprisingly, came first, his ultrasensitive cock unable to withstand the lashing assault of Jennifer's darting little tongue whipping about his glans and penile shaft. He sounded his passion in a long, guttural groan, at the same time thrusting his hips forward and burying his prick in the girl's throat all the way to her tonsils. Thick, viscous gouts of semen shot from the expanding tip of his cock, and for an instant's time Jennifer feared that she was drowning. In panic reaction she began to swallow the gushing sperm, and suddenly found that she was in no danger at all. In fact, she learned, the experience was rather... well, yes, pleasant... pleasant was the correct term.
Frankie and Duke noted their leader's climax and, as if feeling slighted somehow at being so outdistanced, they redoubled their fucking efforts, pounding onward to their own shattering climax.
Jennifer Hunt felt her own pre-orgasmic tension gathering like a clenched fist in her crotch, and the rotary driving action of her hips became all the more frantic as she, too, sought that heavenly release of orgasm there on the floor of the vault She got there before her captors, suddenly blinded by the tiny pinwheels of light which swam and danced behind her closed eyelids, her back arching in a rictus of pleasure-pain as she gave herself entirely to the agonizing sweetness of the moment.
"Ooooohhhhhh God!" she half-sobbed, choking on cum and tears of grateful joy, "IIIIIIIIImmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ccccccuuuuuuuummmmmmiiiiiinnnnnnnnggggggggggg!!!!!"
That pronouncement, plus the sucking, milking action of Jennifer's little cunt and asshole upon their driving cocks, was all it took to push Frankie and Duke over the brink of climax simultaneously. They writhed and pounded their bodies against Jennifer, their massive pricks spouting great globules of semen into the twin receptacles of her vagina and rectum.
For a seemingly endless moment the lustful quartet hung there on the fringes of time and space, every nerve quiveringly alert to sensual desire, and blinded to everything else. At last the men began to pull away from Jennifer, leaving her limp and cum-drenched young form swooning prostrate on the cold floor of the vault chamber.
Jennifer would never fully recall and understand everything that happened next, even though the authorities would try in several long-running sessions to explain it for her. She did comprehend that she... by keeping the outlaws busy with her supple young body... had provided the opening necessary for officers of the paramilitary S.W.A.T. teams to enter the bank through a rear window. Those officers, hung all about with strange weapons and bullet-proof clothing, stood now in a tight cluster at the entrance to the vault, angling their lethal-looking automatic rifles toward the trio of unclothed, panting outlaws.
The three bandits seemed to have seen the officers even before the perfunctory call for surrender came. Each man was twisting and diving toward his own pile of rumpled clothing, where weapons lay unused and barely within reach. Gunfire erupted in the tiny vault like a clap of summer thunder.
Only snatches of that gruesome evening remained in Jennifer's memory, but those snatches were more than adequate to recreate the lethal scene which had flashed before her eyes. She remembered Frankie, nude and grotesque in death, flopping along the tile floor in a shower of bullets and blood, his outstretched hand still a fatal six inches from his big automatic pistol. And Duke, reaching his feet with the revolver in his hand, then whirling on his tip-toes like a Dervish, spun by the hail of automatic fire which riddled him and killed him where he stood.
And yes, Jennifer remembered what had happened to Red most clearly of anything. She recalled with vivid clarity the stubby black shotgun lying where he had placed it, near her head. She recalled the feel of the dull, cold metal as she seized the weapon and twisted her supple torso, bringing the gun to bear on Red's face mere inches away from the double muzzles. And she remembered the roar, deafening, ear-numbing, as her finger curled and tightened about the lean double triggers, the shotgun leaping up and away, out of her grip to clatter across the floor, even as Red's headless, lifeless corpse was flying across the room in the other direction, showering the room and the startled S.W.A.T. officers with crimson gouts of blood.
There was more to remember... the slow dressing under the watchful, probing eyes of a police surgeon... the soothing words for Barbara Nelson and Betty Simmons, and a cold nod to Mr. Benson... and then the long walk through darkness and the gauntlet of congratulatory comments from police.
"You did the right thing, Ma'am."
"Nothing else you coulda done lady."
"Damned fine shooting, I'd say."
"Right on, lady, hang in there!"
She passed through the doors of the bank, past the blood-stains from the earlier double murder and into the glare of police spotlights and the illumination of television news cameras. A shaggy youth with earphones on thrust a microphone in her face and demanded a statement for the eleven o'clock news. Jennifer regarded him coldly for a long moment, and then answered slowly, her voice like a cold wind from a tomb.
"I did what I had to do," she told him and the world, "We all do what we have to do."
And then she was brushing past him, stalking away from the glaring lights and ignoring his shouted questions. Ahead of her, the welcome darkness opened its arms wide to envelop her, hide her from the reality of necessity and death.
