The line was long at the bank this Saturday morning. No doubt it was made up of weekly working stiffs who had come in on their day off to get whatever banking they could get done that they couldn't do during the week.
I blew out a sigh as I waited. The air conditioning was on, but it was August, and it was somewhat muggy in the bank. It might have had something to do with the amount of bodies in here too. Who knew?
I was thankful then for my distressed, cut-off jean short-shorts and the little white T-shirt I was wearing. I had on a black bra underneath that could just barely be seen through the thin, white, T-shirt material. And, of course, I was wearing my brown gladiator sandals that laced up from my ankles to my calves.
All of a sudden, the doors behind us burst open.
"We want the money. Now!" A gruff male voice yelled.
Everybody in line slowly turned around in shock to see what the commotion was about. Two men had entered wearing balaclavas that completely covered their heads and the bottom half of their faces from their noses down. But their eyes were also hidden because they also had on dark sunglasses.
Both men were wearing all black clothing - even down to their black combat-style boots. The gruff-sounding man was considerably bigger, heftier, than the thinner man. He gave off an older vibe than the other man, though it was hard to accurately guess their ages. Since no facial features were visible, they almost looked like featureless mannequins that could move in the dark.
That was disturbing enough, but what caused the sudden screaming to begin was the AR-15 style weapons that they both held.
"Everybody on the floor! And shut your mouths!" The second man yelled. His voice was clear, deep, and definitely younger-sounding.
In an instant I felt the adrenaline and fear shoot through me. In my mind I knew this was a dangerous situation, but it somehow felt surreal, like it wasn't happening to me but to someone else.
Everyone that had been in line slowly sank down to the floor, me included, my prized, tiny little Dolce and Gabbana purse clenched tightly in my hands. I had just flattened myself and it to the floor when the thinner of the two men approached.
In horror I watched his black boots walk up and then stop in front of me.
"You," he said, nudging my shoulder with his foot, "come with me."
"Aww, Ryan! We don't have time for this!" The gruff voiced man said.
The robber closest to me shrugged and stared at me through his dark sunglasses. "I say we do," he said.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The other robber said, and he went up to the counter seeking the cash.
The robber closest to me nudged my shoulder with his boot again. "Get up. Come on," he said.
I got to my feet and reluctantly followed the man. Eyes from the people on the floor followed us as the man led me into an empty office. He flicked on the light, and I looked around. The office was situated such that it had windows that looked both outside and inside the bank. The windows had blinds on them and the robber went to work closing and shutting all the blinds. Then he closed the office door.
All of a sudden, my world had shrunk down to this tiny little office and to the very scary man inside of it with me.
He surprised me then by taking off his dark glasses and then his balaclava. He blinked a couple times in the light, then looked at me with piercing blue eyes.
He was a rather tall guy, thin, with a shaved head. He sounded very nondescript when described that way, but if one mentioned the tribal tattoos he had covering his head and neck, he actually stood out very much. He even had a few crude tattoos on his fingers.
He was probably around thirty years old if I had to guess.
He propped his gun up in one corner of the office and he surprised me by smiling at me. "Shorts and panties off. Now," he said.
I looked at the gun, back at him, and back at the gun, and then back at him again. "What?" I said.
He snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "You heard me. Panties and shorts off. I want them off and then I want you to toss them to the other side of the room," he said.
I stood there frozen. Had I really heard him correctly?
"Baby," he said, "we can do this now or later. But if we don't do it now I'm taking you with me. And then we'll just do it later, anyway."
"I...I..." I stuttered.
"Panties. Shorts. Off. Now," he said in a serious tone that brokered no argument.
My hands shook as I reached for the button on my short-shorts. When it came undone, so did the zipper. I worked them down my thighs and they fell the rest of the way down my legs to the floor.
His face brightened as he stared at my lacy, light blue bikini underwear. "Nice. Now turn around and give me a little look-see," he said, rotating his pointer finger in the air.
Nervously I did as he asked and I heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw the back of my panties. There was a little peek-a-boo square cut into the panties right at the top of my crack. The bottom of the lacy panties rode up high on my glutes, showcasing my curvy, perky ass.
"Goddamn," he breathed. "Those panties are sexy as fuck," he said.
I nervously glanced back over my shoulder at him.
"Take them off," he said.
I felt the tears swimming in my eyes as I did as he asked. My hands still shook but I managed to slide my panties down to the floor.
Suddenly he was right behind me, with borh hands on my bare ass. "You're so fucking sexy," he murmured, letting his hands roam. He touched me until I knew there wasn't a place on my ass that he hadn't made contact with.
"Now," he breathed. "Turn around."
I did as he said, and I couldn't help but use my hands to hide my sex. I felt mortified and embarrassed and humiliated. But he didn't stop.
He just chuckled at me. "Move those hands, baby," he said, stepping back and shaking his head. "Let me see you."
I felt a couple tears escape from my eyes and run down my cheeks as I shakily did as he asked.
"Mmmm," he said. "Nice little pussy."
My pubic hair was shaved pretty short and so it didn't leave much to the imagination.
"Okay, now," he said. "Give me those shorts and panties."
I stepped out of them, reached down, and gave them to him. He tossed them into the corner of the office beside his propped-up weapon. "Now, I want you to sit on the edge of that desk."
I looked behind me at the desk in the office. It had nothing on top of the fake wooden surface except for a telephone. Too bad I couldn't use it right now to call the police.
"Baby? Are you listening to me?"
My head snapped back to him. "What?"
"Up on the edge of the desk," he said again.
Very slowly, I did as he asked.
"Good girl. Now put your heels up on the edge."
"My...my heels?" I asked.
He nodded. "Yeah. Lean back onto your hands. Heels up. Legs open. Like that."
"Oh my God!" I murmured.
He chuckled. "I might like taking you with me even better," he said.
"No, no. Okay, okay, I'll do it," I muttered.
As slowly as I could, I did as he asked. I put my heels up on the desk, but my legs remained closed.
"Open," he mouthed.