The Virgin Hostage
by Curt Mueller


INTRODUCTION 

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. 

She went into that darkness gladly. 


THE END
