Disclaimer: This is a fantasy about acts that would be terribly immoral in reality.
I didn't have a concrete reason to be worried, that day, but I was worried all the same.
I was getting lunch with three of the girls from my mattress shop - Georgia, Ashanti, and Isabella - while Fila minded the store during one of our quiet hours. The girl at the counter handed me the bag with our tacos, and I watched the group as I approached, trying to identify my concern.
Georgia and Ashanti said on one side of the table, with Isabella leaning in the corner. Georgia was a southern girl, with lovely brown hair and a charming smile; Ashanti was a bit of a firecracker, a slender black girl who could be as fierce as friendly. They were still in the new stage of being a couple, when being close together in public is a bit thrilling. They were also both pregnant, and I had to be careful not to stare. Georgia had a modest but undeniably pregnant belly, while Ashanti was still early enough in that you might not notice, although her boobs had already gone up a size. Both of them were thoroughly gorgeous.
Isabella wasn't really joining into their conversation, or even surreptitiously checking them out like I was. She'd been a bit brusque with both girls for weeks, and I wondered if that wasn't the source of my worry.
"Oh, thanks, Miss Martin," Georgia said, her hand resting on her belly. "I'm pretty sure I could eat a horse."
"Did they get your order right this time?" Ashanti asked.
Georgia took an experimental bite. "They forgot the salsa," she replied.
Ashanti sighed angrily. "That's the third time. I ought to go tell them." She took a quick bite of her own, then shook her head. "They did it to mine too."
Georgia put her hand on Ashanti's. "It's alright," she said. "There's salsa packets in the bag. We'll make it work."
Ashanti still looked angry, but she couldn't help but smile at Georgia. "Alright."
"You're hungry too, anyway," Georgia added.
I couldn't help but notice a parallel in the way they reacted to having their tacos filled improperly. Four months earlier, Georgia had been closing the shop alone when a man had snuck in. He'd made her strip, then ravished her senseless. Then, two months ago, he'd done largely the same thing to Ashanti, albeit with a bit more torn clothing. Neither one had been physically hurt, but the man had managed to knock them both up.
Georgia's response had been remarkably accepting. She hadn't been hurt, and she'd ended up with Ashanti, and she and Ashanti were going to be parents together. For Georgia, it had ended well, so bitterness was unnecessary.
Ashanti, on the other hand, was still simmering. She was happy to be with Georgia, and I did notice that much of her anger was on Georgia's behalf, but I was sometimes amazed at how persistent her rage was. I couldn't blame her, but I also hoped she wouldn't let it eat her up inside.
Georgia and Ashanti finished up before Isabella and I, and I suggested they go for a walk. As they stepped into the park, I cleaned up their stuff and tried to figure out what was bothering me.
"You shouldn't have to clean up after them," Isabella said.
I glanced over at her. Isabella was some percentage Italian, with beautiful olive skin, curly black hair, and an impressively buxom figure. She looked like a Roman goddess, which made me particularly jealous of the Roman gods. She was casting a skeptical eye towards Georgia and Ashanti as they walked away.
"I don't have to," I noted. "I just want to be kind to them."
Isabella hesitated. "Do you believe them when they say they were assaulted?"
I certainly did believe them, although I couldn't tell Isabella why. The shop's security cameras had recorded both girls' ravishments in exquisite detail, and I had jilled off to both recordings more times than I could count.
"Yes," I said. "Of course I do."
Isabella shrugged. "Maybe it's true," she said. "But maybe they were just a bit slutty and don't want to admit it."
"Isabella!"
"I don't judge," she added. "But I don't worry either."
I caught her eye. "I need you to worry enough to stay safe. Okay?"
She smiled beatifically. "Of course. Don't worry."
--
I worried, of course. Isabella and Georgia had been scheduled to close, but after I got home, Georgia called to say she'd left early, leaving Isabella to close by herself. This made me worry more.
It also, I must admit, made me horny. I hoped Isabella would be fine, that she'd listen to me and be careful. But I spent the entire evening imagining what might happen if she wasn't careful. I imagined the man who'd ravished the others sneaking in through a carelessly opened window. I imagined him forcing Isabella to strip and then forcing himself on her, in spite of her squeals of protest. I imagined him crying out as he filled her, and her belly growing along with Georgia's and Ashanti's.
My worries and my horniness both tripled when Isabella called in sick the next day. She wasn't as enormously healthy as Ashanti, but given our last conversation, I couldn't help but wonder if she'd be willing to report an assault. I spent the day in a particular sort of agony, unable to make sure she was alright and unable to release my worries with lust as I usually did.
Eventually, though, nine o'clock rolled around. I told Fila and Ashanti to head out, then ducked back inside. I took a deep breath, then opened the security system.
I started the video just before closing. Isabella was gently ushering the last customers out, and I was relieved to see that she locked the front door a moment after they'd departed. Perhaps I'd been worrying about nothing.
She walked back to the desk. Instead of checking the back door and the loading dock, though, she sat down to run through the day's numbers. I could see on her screen that the loading door wasn't locked after our delivery of new mattresses that afternoon.
My apprehension grew as I watched her work with her back to the employees-only area. I wanted her to learn that the other girls were telling the truth, but not like this. And yet, I was already growing wet with anticipation.
I moaned when I saw the man step out from the employees-only section, out of apprehension and lust. As many times as I'd watched the security tapes of him ravishing Georgia and Ashanti, I'd recognize him anywhere. He was tall and blond, with a short beard and nondescript clothing.
He stalked silently closer, then stopped not far from the desk. Isabella, still wrapped up in the numbers, didn't notice him until he spoke.
