From: nogarder@ix.netcom.com(*** )
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: The Bank Robber (MF, rape)
Date: 10 Mar 1996 20:40:48 GMT

			   The Bank Robber

	The blast of cool air that caressed the long-legged young
woman's body was a welcome relief in the Southern California September
afternoon. For a few seconds, she just stood there, reveling in the
coolness. Then, she moved over to one of the customer convenience
counters. There were several people in the bank, but she didn't pay
any particular attention as she concentrated on filling out her
deposit slip.

	Finished, she straightened up and had just taken one step
toward the line waiting for a teller, when the street door suddenly
slammed open with a loud bang. Billie's shoulder length brown hair
whipped around her face as she whirled her head around. She heard a
woman scream. Five men, each holding what Billie would always think of
as a huge pistol, were fanning out through the bank lobby. Billie's
heart leaped into her throat where it beat furiously, choking her.

	"Okay, everybody just stay still and keep calm and nobody gets
hurt," one of the men shouted. "Everybody into the corner... over
there. Move! Now!"

	For a second, nothing happened, then the other customers began
shuffling toward the corner the man had indicated. The bank employees,
herded by a sixth man who had evidently came in another door, flowed
out from behind the counters and joined the customers in one
frightened mass.

	To Billie, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She
couldn't seem to force herself to move at all. There was an old man
standing near her, and he too seemed rooted to the spot. One of the
men, wearing a nylon stocking over his face, stomped threateningly
toward them. "You heard the man, into that corner. Now, goddamnit!" He
shouted at them. His voice thundered in Billie's head, echoing as
though they were in a small, empty room. She began to shiver, her
stomach whirling...

	"Now, now, see here... " the old man began, sputtering.

	The gunman brought his hand up, viciously cracking it into the
side of the man's head, knocking him to the floor, blood spurting from
the side of his head. Billie stared down at his crumpled form, her
skin tingling as if her body were electrically charged, every cell
awake and tingling.

	With the same eerie slowness, the gunman moved closer to
Billie. He was black, they all were she realized, and now that he was
next to her she saw that he was huge, and muscular. His eyes, even
through the veil of the nylon stocking, were cruel and deep. Her
shivers deepened into body-whacking trembles.

	"That means you too, bitch," he snarled at her. Still she
couldn't move, could only stand there, panting. Her nipples were hard,
she realized, poking out against her suddenly too tight bra. They
ached, feeling like they would burst at any moment. A tiny stream of
moisture began to wet her panties. She stared at the man like a bird
at a snake.

	"Move it, slut," he snapped again, lashing his open palm
across her cheek. Stinging pain spread over her face. Her ears echoed
with the exciting sound of his palm striking her flesh. The trickle
between her legs became a stream. Tiny whimpering sounds came from her
throat. Her eyes, even as she trembled with fear, danced with the
flame of the confusing fire raging within her. Gradually the thug
began to realize what was happening to the good-looking young girl he
was towering over. A big grin began to spread over his face beneath
the mask, and he slapped her again, laughing slightly. Around them the
noise of breaking glass and splitting wood filled the room as his
companions began to smash open cash drawers.

	Neither of them paid any attention to the noise. Casually,
almost contemptuously, the man ran his hands over Billie's body while
she stood, whimpering softly. His hands squeezed her breast, hard, and
she moaned, swaying toward him, her eyes closing before the wave of
passion sweeping over her. His hands went lower, sliding down over her
waist, reaching around to cup her buttocks, pulling her to him. His
hot breath seared her cheeks and she felt his hard-on burning into her
through their clothes. She groaned out loud and he laughed again,
suddenly grabbing her arm and twisting it up behind her back.

	She cried out at the sudden pain, spinning in his grasp as he
cruelly turned her around, twisting the other arm back and holding
them both painfully high up between her shoulders. Sobbing, her arms
on the verge of breaking, she stumbled before him as he pushed her
toward a table against one wall opposite where the other captives had
been herded and were watching. All the way, his phallus was growing in
his pants, poking into her rump as he walked her across the floor. As
they neared the table, he shifted his grip, holding both her arms with
one hand. With his free hand, he began tearing at her clothes even as
he pushed her face down over the table.

	Sharp, yelping sounds rose from her throat as her body twisted
on the rough wood, her legs spread and her feet dangling inches off
the floor. He clawed her skirt up over her waist and ripped at her
pantyhose, tearing them to shreds and yanking her skimpy panties from
her moist crotch. For an instant she felt cool air caressing her
heated sex, and she spread wider arching her hips up, her head rolling
and twisting in passion. He smacked his wide, calloused hand down on
the upturned, white flesh of her ass. Once, twice, three times he hit
her... and she cried out in pain at each blow, her nails clawing the
table top, but she never for a moment tried to escape.

	Finally, panting, he stopped beating her and fumbled at his
fly. She heard the sound of his zipper, seeming to drown out the
continuing backdrop of breaking glass and curses. She threw her head
up, mouth open, screaming as his hot, hard cock slammed deep into her
dripping cunt.

	"Oh yes, yes!" She screamed in delirium, pounding the table
and throwing her head in neck wrenching circles, her hair swirling
around her face.

	Flashes of lightning went off in her head. She began to come
immediately, filled with the pain/pleasure of his cockhead bumping,
pounding against the depths of her welcoming sheath. She couldn't
stop cumming. His huge prick filled and stretched her pussy. She could
feel every inch, every blood filled ridge. The inner flesh of her
hole gripped him, caressing and milking his raging cock, embracing and
saluting the brutal ravagement.

	The man knotted his fingers in her long brown hair, pulling
her harder back against him, forcing her to arch her body more,
opening herself even more for his pleasure. The pain in her scalp
seemed to intensify the pleasure in her crotch and her body
surrendered totally to the flood of sensations leaping and dancing
within her. In her delirium, her hands tore her blouse open and ripped
her bra off, freeing her swollen breasts. Now the firm, full mounds
rolled beneath her as she writhed, her nipples painfully crushed
against the table.

	Incredibly, the man's companions had, up until now, been too
occupied to pay any attention to what was happening on the table. Only
now did one of them, after glancing at his watch look up.

	"Okay... let's... Shit! What the... ?" He laughed. "Hey man...
finish it... Drop your load. Let's get the fuck outta here!"

	The man riding Billie quickened his movements. He began to
grunt, then cried out. Billie's body bucked, a high-pitched wail
rising from deep in her throat as she received his seed. Hot,
steaming semen gushed deep into her hole, bathing the torn tissues
within. Her orgasm leaped to new heights as she bucked and tossed on
the table, clawing at her breasts. His movements slowed, then ceased.

	For a moment he lay drained on top of her twitching body,
then, with a sigh, he heaved himself to his feet. His cock slid from
her hole with a loud plop, followed by a gush of mingled semen and
cunt juice which ran down her legs, dripping onto the floor, in full
view of the shocked and numb captives. He swatted her once more across
the ass, and then turned, zipping up his fly as he ran to the door
with his fellows.

	Billie, barely conscious, began to slip off the table, unable
to find the strength to arrest her fall. Like an old, discarded sack,
her body sagged to the floor, where she lay, a sobbing, moaning heap
of satiated flesh.

	For a few long moments the room was perfectly still. The
unhurt victims seemingly unable to move, frozen in place by the
orgasmic scene they had just witnessed. They just stared at Billie.
She had fallen with her legs sprayed, her open pussy, oozing semen.
Finally, an older woman moved. She went to Billie, crouching down
beside her and gently taking the still moaning woman in her arms. As
if that had been some kind of signal, the others shook themselves and
began to live again.

	The police didn't take long to get there, nor did the
ambulance they called. It was too late in any case. The thugs were
gone, and the old man was already dead. Billie received the news with
a loud sob and buried her head in the ample bosom of the old woman,
who held her comfortingly.

	They took Billie to the hospital emergency room, but, except
for the scratches on her breasts which she had inflicted upon herself,
she was unhurt. A rape counselor talked to her there, and Billie
listened politely, feigning an interest that she didn't feel. After
all, she knew she hadn't been raped. She had wanted it... probably, at
least at first, more than he did. From the moment she had seen those
pistols, she had been excited. And when that man struck the old man,
and then slapped her and called her a bitch and a slut... Oh God!

	In front of those people... all those people... Jesus... He
beat me, hurt me... and I loved it.

	She realized the rape counselor, a big, older woman, had
stopped her spiel, and was staring at her kind of funny.

	"Uh... I'm... I'm sorry. I really am okay. Please... I'd just
like to go home."

	"Sure," the woman said, shrugging her shoulders. If Billie
didn't need her there were surely others that did.