Writing I'd like to share...

[Miranda Forbes]

This is a great place to share your writing (poems, stories etc). Please say if you want crits and, for those offering them, please be constructive and helpful.

[Arthur Chappell]

Surprised no one has posted a story here yet. I’ll risk being first if you wish. Hope you enjoy this erotic and shamelessly silly crime caper. AC

© Copyright. Arthur Chappell 2009 Crits Welcome

HEIST

It was quite typical of Suzie to be strapped down but still taking charge. She bossed The Boss around. “Not the Bank Manager game again, Trent. We work there all week as it is. Stop bringing your fucking work home with you.”

She wasn’t getting through to him. He seemed so enraptured by the role-play. There was no denying that he got off on it more than from any other fantasy. Doctors and nurses, squire and serving wench, full scale BDSM, all amused and aroused him to some extent, but big bad boss was clearly his favourite. His blue eyes lit up with delight. Her insubordinate irreverence was his cue for giving further punishment.

Suzie didn’t really mind. He was such a different man at work anyhow, quiet and unassuming, more concerned with paperwork and accountancy than staff and customers. His aggressive manager from Hell act was reserved for after hours.

“Miss Dildo, you were late again on Tuesday. I have no option but to take firm disciplinary action against you.”

Suzie giggled at his lack of subtlety. The game-name was crap, and she had never been late for work in her life. She played along. “You could deduct fifteen minutes pay from my salary,” she suggested.

Trent turned round, wide eyed, as if he had never thought of it. He paused, half in and half out of his shirt – the last part of his uniform to be removed.

“I could do that, and I might yet,” he said in a bad imitation of Captain Bligh. “For now however, I prefer less orthodox methods of punishment.” He threw the shirt to the rug beside the bed and picked up a homemade tickler, put together from strands of paper taken from his office shredder at the bank. He saw it as the only useful purpose the old Farrindon-Smythe account documents had ever served.

Suzie giggled as he tickled her feet, belly, breasts and finally her cunt itself. Fragments of the paper fell away and stuck to Suzie and the bed like wedding confetti.

Suzie writhed about as though in agony and laughed. Her bare untied legs slid around on the satin sheet as she tried to dodge the makeshift lash, and often succeeded. Her uncovered cunt moved in and out of Trent’s field of vision as she moved as best she could with her wrists tied to the headboard. Eventually, the glimpses would turn Trent on enough and he would hold her legs down, apart, and dive in between them. Suzie stifled a yawn. The game had been played too often and it was getting very predictable.

The thought froze in her mind as the totally unpredictable happened. The bedroom door burst open and half off its hinges, as four balaclava-masked men spilled in, waving sawn off shotguns. Their eyes were all that was visible of their faces.

Suzie laughed with joy until she saw a look of genuine terror on Trent’s face and realized that he hadn’t found four friends willing to join in their fun. These were real intruders. They wore dark overall boiler suits, and black woollen gloves. They acted as if they were unsure whether they were playing at ninjas or pretending to be in the SAS. They looked extremely dangerous nevertheless. Their leader wore a small knapsack on his back. And he was ushering the others in with hand-signals,

Trent bravely tried to stand between the strangers and the naked girl on the bed. Suzie steeled herself against screaming. All but one of the men peered round the naked man to feast their eyes on the gorgeous twenty-five year old girl spread eagled on the big soft mattress..

The leader spoke, laughing. “Forget the ropes lads, she’s tied up already.”

The men stood like statues, and the masked faces stared and gawped silently, as though frozen in time. One man started breathing strangely, and making gurgling noises. Suzie realized that he was drooling so much in his lust and excitement that he was actually in danger of drowning. He had too much saliva to swallow and the mask wouldn’t let him open his mouth enough to let some of the slop spill out. After a moment, he turned his face away to lift the mask and let himself breath again. Suzie saw his sharp green eyes and auburn hair in the mirror. He put the mask back on and turned round, oblivious of having given her a good clue to his identity. She made a mental note ready for eventually talking to the police. The man looked ruggedly handsome. Suzie sighed, and smiled. She was feeling wet for the first time that night.

Trent turned to the leader. “Take whatever you want. Just don’t hurt us.”

The leader jumped forward to within inches of his prey. “It’s you we want, Trent. We need you to open the bank for us.”

Trent went pale. They knew who he was. “But it’s the early hours of Sunday morning,” he protested.

A second invader, the man whose face Suzie had seen, stepped up “Yeah, Einstein, it’s weekend. The bank’s shut. Do we look like we want to open a joint account or discuss a fucking mortgage?”

The leader took over. “Get dressed. You’re coming with us.”

Trent turned helplessly to point at Suzie. “Are you taking both of us?”

The leader of the gang shook his head. “No. The lady stays here with two of my men. Any funny business, escape attempts or calls to the police by either of you and you both buy the farm. Understood?”

Trent knew he had no choice. He nodded and turned to Suzie. “Don’t do anything foolish, as they say. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Suzie looked at the man whose face she admired and winked at him as she spoke to her boss. “Oh, don’t worry about me, darling. You just have a lovely time at work.”

Trent got into a freshly washed and ironed business suit and tie, even though the robbers told him that a pair of jeans and tee shirt would suffice. He ignored them and even put his identity badge on. Going to work in casuals for any reason was utterly unthinkable to him.

“Fucking Jobsworth,” mumbled one of the robbers who were speaking for the first time, and Trent detected a hint of shrill effeminacy in the voice.

“Are we taking your car?” Trent asked the leader.

“No. We’ll use yours. The others will drive Suzie to the bank when they get a call from me on my mobile to say the mission was successful. If I don’t call by four AM Suzie dies. “

The gang leader and one henchman led Trent to his Bentley, and they got in. Trent expected to drive, but he found himself having to be a front seat passenger. The leader got in the back pointing his gun at Trent’s head and the other man took the wheel. He started the car with Trent’s keys and drove quite slowly, normally. They were not going to draw attention to themselves with screeching wheels and unnecessary speeding. Trent could see that they were taking the direct route to the bank, in Levenshulme, Manchester, two miles South of the house.

The driver turned to glance at Trent. Don’t worry about your wife. Our lads won’t hurt her. I promise.”

Trent shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “Oh, she’s not my wife. She’s my fuck-buddy. My wife’s got a similar arrangement with Suzie’s husband.”

The men saw the wedding ring on his finger and simultaneously cried out, “What?”


Suzie chortled at the men standing sentry like guards outside Buckingham Palace. They seemed nervous and agitated. After a few minutes, her patience wore thin. “For Christ’s sake, aren’t you going to even try to ravish me?”

The man whom’s face she had seen stumbled as if he had been punched. Her comment was so startling. “You actually want us to?”

“Of course I do. I came all the way out here for sex. Don’t you want some too, seeing me bound and helpless like this? Surely my tits must be doing something for you?”

“They work for me, sure,” said the handsome one, but Number Four here is gay, aren’t you?”

The other man spluttered nervously. “Yeah Chris. I’m gay.”

“You’ve told her my name you dumbfuck!”

“Sorry Chris.”

Suzie laughed as the men argued. She interrupted them before they came to blows. “So! One of you is straight and the other is gay. What’s the problem? Sounds like a perfect threesome to me. One of you fucks me and the other gets to fuck the straight guy. Face it lads, it’s not an opportunity you’ll get every day. Think about it.”

The bulges in their pants told her that they were thinking about it a lot.

Number Four shook his head in denial. “Lady, if you haven’t noticed, your situation is serious. We’re hardened criminals.”

“And getting harder by the second,” Suzie quipped.

“You don’t seem the slightest bit frightened by us. Why?” Chris demanded.

Suzie smiled. The bank’s insured against robbery, and we’ll get a shit load of publicity in the news tomorrow. That’ll bring new investments our way. Believe me, you are doing us a favour. I have no desire to escape. Besides, I’m strapped to a bed, and if you two get on top of me too, what chance would I have?”

Chris put his gun down carefully on the dressing table and started removing his boiler suit.

Number four saw him, and cried out, “What the fuck! Chris! Don’t! Jack’ll go apeshit when he finds out.”

Neither man realized the leader’s name had been uttered. Suzie took it all in though, and soon she was taking all of Chris in too. He wore only a grubby white tee shirt and his mask by the time he leapt on her. He tried kissing her and the woollen balaclava made her face itch. His cock landed just millimetres from that which it craved entry to, and Suzie felt him nudge up slowly to gain admission. She let him in, and purred in contentment.

Number Four saw his friend’s firm pink buttocks moving up and down rhythmically, and, unable to resist any longer, he dumped his gun and overalls to leap in too. His additional weight pushed Chris deeper into Suzie who wept with joy as she wrapped her legs around both of the men, and cried out for more thrusting. Chris felt the other man penetrating him too and it was a great sensation. His mind told him he was having his first real gay experience as he struggled to concentrate on the girl below him too.


Trent’s kidnappers parked his car opposite the bank, just clear of telltale street lighting. Jack, still known only as number one to his hostage, got out and quietly told Trent to follow him to the bank. The other man was clearly expected to guard the car ready for the getaway.

“Just walk to the door as if opening up for business, go inside and kill the alarms. I know all about sending silent alarm messages to the cops, so don’t even think about standing on panic buttons. “

Trent shrugged. “Not while you have Suzie, I won’t.”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah. She’s great. She isn’t sleeping with me for promotion. I offered her a managerial post last year, and she turned me down. She could be running her own branch by now. She works to live, so she doesn’t want the extra burden of responsibility. It’s refreshing to make love to someone who doesn’t have an agenda or ambitions beyond a good fun fuck. “

As he spoke, Trent opened the doors as promised; He turned the two locks with his keys, and stepped in. Jack followed, closing the door behind him, but not locking it. A wall panel set at eye level just to the left of the inside of the door was deactivated with a simple four diget pin number code, known only to Trent and a few trusted employees. He had just killed all the alarms. The lighting was on, but subdued, throwing the bank’s lobby into eerie shadows. A few CCTV cameras were clearly on, and TV monitors over the counters reflected the image of the two men moving around.

“I can’t stop the cameras,” Trent said nervously. They have to operate twenty-four seven.”

Jack grunted. “No problem. It’s why I’m wearing a fucking mask.”

Trent led the armed thief behind the staff counters, and through a side door that led to the vault room, which was dominated by a large solid steel walk in safe. There was a lot of space and several shadowed alcoves around the vault too.

Jack barked more instructions. “No bullshit about time lock delays, either. I know these kinds of vaults have manual over-rides. You can get in any time you like.”

Trent smiled. “The thought of deceiving you with that never crossed my mind.”

Jack felt nervous. He’s robbed banks before. The victims were usually shitting themselves or they were have a go heroes looking for a chance to hit him over the head with a chair. Trent seemed indifferent and relatively fearless now. He was clearly plotting something, but totally co-operative too.

As they approached the vault, Jack noticed that it was already open, held ajar by a pair of crotchless panties and a red pair of men’s boxer shorts which wedged the door.

“What is this?” he roared. “Do you morons ever tidy up and lock up before going home?”

Trent laughed. “Oh, my. I forgot about this. We’re not alone.” He knew it was no good denying it. The gunman would have realized it was obvious by now. The vault would be airtight, so whoever was within was keeping it slightly open to be able to breath and move in and out freely.

“Tell them to come out, now, with their hands up. The vault’s open so I don’t need you any more.”

Trent backed up to the vault door with his hands up in classic surrender mode. He seemed nervous again for once.

“Who’s here and why?” Jack asked.

“I let the staff use the vault at weekends. Making love on piles of money is a hell of an aphrodisiac. You get to pretend to be a millionaire. No one takes the money, and we have learned how to dodge the CCTV cameras completely. “

It was clear to Jack that the manager was keeping information from him. He demanded an explanation when a scrunched up black lace bra thrown from the shadows, landed on the barrel of the gun. He spun round to see who had thrown it, but he saw no one. He turned and pointed the gun right into Trent’s face.

Jack staggered back, feeling slightly weak at the knees. “Shit. It’s like a Carry on film here. I’ve had enough of this crap.” He recovered his composure quickly though. Angrily, he pulled the shotgun triggers back at point blank range on Trent’s face. Nothing happened. Jack swore. He had forgotten that he never loaded it. The bluff was usually all it took. Trent went pale and fainted with a whimper to the floor, convinced that his final seconds on earth had come.

Jack laughed. He could get at the money now. Trent wasn’t dead, but he was out for the count. He pulled a crumpled mail-sack from the knapsack, and walked towards the vault. He pushed gingerly at the door, cautiously reminding himself that he was not alone. He pushed the door slowly back, but found it suddenly pulled away from him from within as someone speeded up its journey for him, snatching the door back from his hands.

Jack screamed to see before him, a scrawny little man, naked except for a leather gimp-mask, in crude parody of his own face covering. The gimp kept poking his tongue in an out through the open zip section around the lips of the mask.

Jack pointed the gun at the man’s substantial and engorged cock.

“Forget it,” the gimp said. “We watched the monitors. We know you fired off on empty. Now it’s my turn. My mistress ordered me not to come, no matter how much I crave it. I do as she bids, but I can’t hold out any longer. “

He called out to somewhere over the intruder’s shoulders. “Mistress, may I give myself release now?”

“You may, Slave. You may,” came a dark, sultry reply.

The gimp put his hands to his dick and flicked it just twice with the left wrist before a torrent of semen poured from its eye straight into the eyes of the man with the useless shotgun.

Jack reeled back half blinded in fear and disgust. “Oh, you dirty little bastard!”

He swung the gun up, to hit the man with the barrel, but a lash from a bullwhip to his side took it from his hand.

Jack swung round, half reeling off-balance to see the tall Amazonian dom in her tight PVC cat suit and stilettos for only a few seconds before a fist punched him in the face, and knocked him out cold. It was Trent’s fist.

Trent grinned as the Dom peeled her mask off, which was a simple dark, glittery cat-face masquerade eye-cover. “Hi Daphne. He rushed over to her and gave her a sloppy affectionate kiss. They seemed relived that they were safe now, and happy to see one another, but the gimp interrupted them.

“He’s coming round, Mistress.”

“What kind of people are you?” was all the robber could say as he lay on the floor, feeling groggy.

Trent grinned. “Oh, sorry. Introductions all round. This is Daphne, my wife. Her friend Keith here is married to Suzie. We all work here at the bank, and we have a very open relationship. “

Jack barely took the news in before he passed out again.

Daphne sighed. “Thank fuck that’s over.”

Trent shook his head. “It’s not over. There’s another one in the car, and two of them are keeping Suzie hostage back at home.”

Daphne growled. “Twats invading my house? This means war! Keith, help me get this creep out of his boiler suit and balaclava, quickly.”

“Yes, Mistress.”


Dan, the getaway driver, was growing impatient. It was all taking far too long. He wondered if he should go and investigate. He was sure a police car had gone past, but it was hardly surprising to see the cops in such a rough urban district. Another thought crossed his mind - Driving off. He could just leave the leader to face whatever was coming to him and hope the little shit didn’t grass him up as an accomplice when the cops forced a confession out of him. .

Ah, no, here they came, leaving the bank with Trent in front, carrying a great big bag of money. Jack was behind him, still masked, and carrying the shooter. He was walking a little oddly though, with a wiggle to his hips, and he appeared to have grown tits – lovely big tits at that, but tits nevertheless.

Dan grabbed for his gun. He had loaded his, despite Jack’s orders. He wasn’t one to take chances with would be heroes.

As he grabbed the gun, something jumped on the bonnet of the car – a naked man in a leather mask was crouched on the bonnet, licking the window through the slit left for breathing, and shaking the car from side to side as he shrieked like a banshee.

“Holy shit!” Dan screamed, as he dropped the gun. He was scrambling after it when someone opened the car door and dragged him out by the hair. A woman’s fingernails dug into his scalp like talons. Before he knew it, he was lying in the road with a stiletto heel resting against his throat. Trent dropped the moneybag. There was no money in it. Instead, it was full of bottles of lube, packets of condoms and sex toys. A set of handcuffs fell out of a side compartment..

“You can have a feel of ours before the police put theirs round your wrists,” Trent said, grinning.

Daphne ordered Keith to get dressed inside the bank, while she and Trent lifted the cuffed robber up and walked him inside, to clip him to the vault doors right next to Jack, who shouted aggressively. “Let us go. If we don’t report to the others within a few minutes they’ll kill your friend Suzie.”

“We’ll never get to the house in time,” Daphne said, tearfully, showing weakness for the first time.

Trent snapped his fingers. “We’ll get these two to call them and say it’s all over. They’ll let Suzie go then, won’t they?”

“I’m not co-operating,” Dan said.

“Me neither”, said Jack. “Besides, don’t you realize the police will know you use the bank as a sex den? Your careers will be finished.”

“Nah, Trent said, nonchalantly. “I’m a freemason, and half the cops in Manchester are members of my little club here too. We’ll see to it that no word of our activities gets out, and it’s unlikely you lot will get out for 20 years at least.“

“We have no choice, “ sighed Keith. “We’ll have to try to reach the house in time and hope for the best.”

“You won’t have to,” said a woman’s voice from the door. Everyone looked round in surprise, joy and recognition.

“Suzie! How?” cried Trent, as Daphne ran to her side and hugged her.

Susie was wearing her business suit. It was what she had arrived at Trent’s house in, for the beginning of their weekend long game. She related her story quickly.

I got the fools turned on by each other and myself. They were fucking me and I used my knowledge of emergency self-release from Trent’s slipknots to free myself. Before they knew it, I’d hogtied them together with less escape-easy knots, and then I rushed round here in their car. “

“Smart girl,” Trent said. “Smart girl.”

Trent called the police, making sure that he got through to specific officers, rather than just dialling 999 to get attention from just any cops who happened to be around. The police came quickly, and the robbers were bundled up into a van and taken away under arrest. Trent and his wife went to let the police into their house in order to round up the other men, one of who was last heard shouting ‘You bunch of fucking bankers!” as the cops locked the Black Maria doors on him.

Daphne and Keith tidied up the bank, taking the time to have a naked money fight in the vault before re-setting the alarms, locking up and leaving.

“Do you think there is too much sex and violence going on in the world today?” Daphne asked dryly, getting into her own Bentley.

“No, Mistress.”

“Neither do I. Let’s get you home for another good thrashing. “

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you.”

[Don Juan Quixote]

Buccaneer Booty by Don Juan Quixote

I stood on the rolling deck of our latest prey…a slight breeze cooled my face and filled my nostrils with the scent of her spice cargo. Small tufts of smoke billowed here and there from fires not yet put out…and the cling clang of swords could be heard below decks as my crew subdued the last of her men.

I looked across the ropes tying the two ships together. The “Lusty Maiden” held her fast, having dropped anchor when we boarded her. It was too bad I thought, tracing her lines with an expert eye, she was a fine galleon. But, she rode too low in the water, and was too slow of sail. She’d be a sitting duck in my fleet of lightening fast ships. She’d have to be scuttled and betrothed to Davy Jones…

A young boy from my crew came rushing up just then, breaking my revere. He saluted clumsily… boy barely seventeen. “We have found a lady, M’Lord!” he exclaimed excitedly. “It’s Captain” I retorted in fake disgust. “It’s just Captain.” “Yes, Sir…Captain” he fumbled. “They’ve found a smartly dressed woman below decks…they sent me to ask what should be done with her.” “Bring her to me” I said, knowing full well why the boy was so nervous…this would be trouble…

They brought her across the rolling deck kicking and struggling, one pirate holding each arm…a crowd of my crew followed and more gathered round behind me to watch the drama unfold. She was dressed in all white…a handsome wench to be true…Someone had torn her bodice in the struggle to subdue her, and her ample breasts were in danger of falling free. A wisp of curly dark hair blew across her beautiful face getting stuck in her moist full red lips…She tossed her head angrily to get it out of the way. The crew waited impatiently as I silently surveyed her from head to toe and back again.

From the muddy hem of her torn skirt, to the milky white thigh that grew out of her fancy boots…As she bucked and struggled I could see the full hips and slim waist. Just then a small pink nipple peeked out from her torn blouse for all to see. In spite of myself I could feel a hard lump growing in my breeches.

The men holding her had that glazed look of pure lust I knew so well. “Let’s tie her to the mast and have turns with her, each of us!” cried out a lust filled crew member. The crew cheered in ascent, growling and chuckling nastily at the thought…each of them entertaining the thought of what she would feel like under their touch, no doubt. Couldn’t blame them there….

I put up a hand for silence and surveyed the growing crowd of crewmembers. Some were already actively touching themselves, and growing bulges were visible in all their crotches. Looking in their eyes I could see that half of them were already out of their minds with sheer desire for her. Perhaps it was the blood-lust, or the rum, I thought….this could turn ugly, real fast.

“Belay that!” I bellowed. “Anyone who touches her will answer to me.” I growled. I quickly turned around with my back to her heaving breasts and milky white thighs. I quickly drew both cutlasses, blades down, to use the hand guards as makeshift brass knuckles and stood at the ready. Some of the older crew had seen their captain do this before and with fear in their eyes, they began backing away.

Just then one of the pirates in the front row rushed toward her, unable to contain himself any longer. I smashed him full in the face with a quick right hand, and heard the crunch of the bones in his nose and upper jaw. The force of my blow lifted his feet high into the air and he landed on the deck flat on his back with a thump. He groaned and passed out. For a moment I watched as the crew struggled with their thoughts en mass…Half fear, half lust played across their faces…

Another scraggly sot made a run for her, followed shortly by two others. I caught him in the chest and stomped hard on the side of his knee and he howled as he dropped like a sack of grain. Sliding right off his chest without pausing I caught the second man in the temple and swept his feet out from under him, so that he toppled into the third man, and they both went down in a heap. The third man was now pinned under the bigger second man, and struggled vainly to get him off of his chest.

Three more rushed forward, and I caught the outside ones in the throat and kicked the third in the pants so hard his ancestors must have felt it. They too joined the men at my feet. “Christian!” I snapped over my shoulder “find a blanket and cover the wench or we’ll lose half our crew!” Christian scurried to comply toward the supplies stacked on the far deck. Five men rushed this time, and I dispatched them in similar fashion, as Christian finally covered the lovely maiden.

“Take her to my quarters, Christian. Bind her hands and feet and chain her waist to my cabin wall. She’ll fetch a fair price in the Madagascar market, by god…but, only if she’s untouched!” Then, I barked “Now get back to work you scurvy scum, or I’ll gut you like a fish!” Finally overcome with fear and fully intimidated by the semi circle of bodies at my feet, the crew reluctantly slunk away, grumbling under their breath all the while.

Finally, I returned my swords to my sash and turned to face the maiden again. This time it was she whose eyes were glazed with lust as she looked at me with awe. Ah, I thought, this one gets excited by watching men fight! She’s real trouble, this one. “Christian, take your six best men and guard my cabin door until I finish here. It will be a long night for the crew, and this maiden will weigh heavily on their minds this night.”

Christian saluted and started to move off….”Wait” I said, looking at her and brushing the strand from her gorgeous face. She pursed her lovely lips…”What’s your name fair wench?” She spat in my face rebelliously…I grabbed her face with one hand and bellowed a hearty laugh. “You’ll not want to be doing that again, I warrant you! It’s not good for your health.” The fear, admiration, and lust returned to her eyes and she bowed her head in submission. “Take her away, and watch your backs.” With that, they carted her off and I couldn’t help but notice as her soft buttocks jiggled as she walked away…this one would bear watching, I thought…lots of watching.

Dusk had fallen by the time I retired to my cabin. The flickering firelight revealed the beautiful young maiden laying on a low divan like a goddess…each part of her more lovely than the next. Even her hands, and dainty feet, (tied now in front of her) were intoxicating to look at. I wearily took off my sword belt, both pistols from my sash, and throwing knives from their place between my shoulder blades… She looked at me wide-eyed as I continued to get more comfortable. I took a long dagger from each boot, and a derringer from the pocket of my breeches…”Good god!” she blurted out…”Is all that really necessary?”

I ignored her and continued until I was sufficiently comfortable. Then I approached her and stood over her. I could feel her hot breath on my crotch as I hooked her hands above her on the wall. Untying her feet I lashed them to two short posts placed there for such a purpose, leaving her vulnerable and spread eagled on the divan. “You filthy bastard!” she spat out as I ripped her dress and cut off her under things with a knife. “Christian!” I hollered to the man guarding the door outside, “Bring bathing barrels and clean her up!”


Christian appeared in the doorway, eyes darting to the naked, spread eagled maiden…surely noticing her full supple breasts, hard pink nipples, and slightly moist pubic area hair, with just a hint of her full pink lips showing beneath…”After her bath, dress her in men’s clothes and cut off her hair”…she gasped at this…”It’s for your own safety my dear” I said and walked wearily to my desk.

Christian gulped and looked at the tempting maiden, lying there helpless but obviously aroused…”Oh, and Christian…” He tore his eyes from her luscious body. “Don’t do anything ungentlemanly either…I’ll be watching closely.” With this I picked up a pistol and laid it casually across my lap pointed menacingly at Christian. He swallowed hard. Poor Christian….

Christian brought in two small barrels, one with hot soapy water, and the other with just hot water to rinse the maiden. Steam escaped from both barrels as he dipped the sponge into the soapy one and began to rub the bottom of her feet. She started to giggle and squirm against her bonds, lifting her tight buttocks up in the air as she struggled against her bonds. “That tickles dammit!”, she cried out. I chuckled as I watched her naked body writhe and wriggle in her compromised position.

Like me, Christian couldn’t tear his eyes from the pink folds of your love box as she writhed and giggled. We both noticed that she had just a small tuft of pubic hair above her cunny as she pumped it into the air. Her angry eyes flashed at me, “Damn you!” she growled. “And don’t bother skipping any of the unmentionable spots either!” I growled back. Christian gulped, realizing what he had to do as he worked his way slowly up her creamy calves.

“Ah, that’s better…” she moaned as he moved up her legs to her thighs. “Wash her good…we want her to be comfortable for the trip”, I said. Christian was now wiping the sponge close to her heat, up around to her underbelly and back around not wanting to be rude by just going right to her crotch. She was moaning in pleasure from the hot soapy water now….finally he put the sponge over her hot spot and slowly rubbed up and down. She threw her head back and groaned at how good it felt.

Poor Christian tried to move on up her body, but she suddenly looked at him and said, “Don’t stop!” There was an obvious bulge in his breaches by now….She noticed it too. “Don’t forget the rest of her”, I laughed. She shot me a glance, “your enjoying this, aren’t you?” “So are you”, I retorted. Christian moved slowly up to her luscious breasts and rubbed them each with a sponge. Her nipples were hard as rocks and bright pink now. As he touched each one in turn, she groaned loudly and threw her head back again.

We could both see that her pussy was engorged and reddish looking…with a river of moisture running out of it down the crack of her ass. “You bastards!” she said half heartedly, as another groan escaped her parted lips. Christian dutifully washed her arms and neck (making her whimper and groan some more). Cleaned her face and then had to rinse her down with a clean sponge. When he got back to her crotch she writhed in pleasure and begged him not to stop.

He looked at me and I nodded and grinned. Christian gulped again and rubbed the sponge up and down over her steaming pussy lips. She clenched her teeth and moaned loudly, obviously close to orgasm. I finally had all I could take, so I stood up and said, “Okay, that’s enough Christian. Your obviously torturing her. She flashed me a look of disappointment and Christian gathered up his things…I stood over her naked body, which was filled with desire by now….”Anything else we can do for you, Princess?”

“Please….Please….,” barely getting the words out, “May I have another bath?”, she exclaimed weakly…I laughed at this and began untying her bonds…when she had her hands finally free she reached suddenly for my crotch and unzipped my pants in one quick motion…taking my hard member out into her warm hands, she shoved her hot mouth down on it eagerly and began to suck back and forth slowly, groaning on my dick as she did so….

Finally taking me out of her mouth she clawed at my clothes, undressing me in earnest. “I want you sooo bad!!” she said. I picked her up and took her to my four poster bed in the corner and dumped her on it. “Are you sure, M’Lady?” I asked. “Yes, yes, YES!!!” she replied. “God YES!!” I climbed on top of her, wanting to go slowly but she writhed and bucked with desire. “Take me, Please, take me…..NOW!” she blurted out.

I kissed her passionately on the neck, and she groaned loudly. Working my way up to her ear I nibbled on her earlobe and she wined softly…then, licking and biting softly I worked my way out to her shoulder teasing and caressing as I went. I could feel the heat and wetness of her special place as she lifted her hips and shoved it eagerly against my swollen member…”Please” she said softly.

Working my way down from her shoulder to her right breast, I could smell the musky scent of it and it made my head swim. Taking her hard, swollen pink nipple softly into my mouth, I sucked and licked it and she gasped in ecstasy. I ran my tongue a crossed to the other nipple and she groaned and bucked with delight. Then, slowly, I kissed, bit, and licked my way down to that spot between her stomach and thighs as she noisily encouraged me. I could feel the swampy heat of her grinding against my chest. She was ready…more than ready.

Kissing and teasing her inner thighs, I put my thumb against her love button, and gently rubbed it occasionally….teasing her into a frenzy. Sensing that the time was right, I insterted my tongue at the bottom of her lips and slowly, dragged it through her wet lips, over the hole and up onto the small hood at the top. Making circles with my tongue around it, and then sucking it softly into my mouth…she moaned and squirted new juices into my beard. It tasted heavenly….I licked the fresh juices up hungrily and she suddenly grabbed my hair and shoved my face into her.

Sticking out my tongue she did the work for me, grinding and humping my face, getting it all wet with her love juices. Finally, I could take it no more…I lifted myself up to kiss her mouth and slowly inserted the tip of my manhood into her. Tired of being teased she grabbed my buttocks and shoved me all the way in with a loud groan.

Again and again I plumbed her depths….going faster and faster…shoving harder and harder…lost in a sea of unbridled passion. I lifted her legs up over my chest and discovered new territory with the tip….she came and came, over and over…I lost count of how many times. Then, suddenly I was shooting my seed deep inside her…emptying my balls, spasming and squirting…it seemed to go on forever…

Then, both of us began to relax with a deep satiated sigh…I sunk into her flesh and stayed there…holding her and kissing her soft mouth while our passion slowly subsided within her. “My god” I thought, “She is like a goddess!” And I knew that it was I that had been captured, and not her. For I would never be able to let her go after that….I must have her with me, forever…until the end of my days.

[T. Elle Harrison]

I think this is very clever! I especially like the line “For Christ’s sake, aren’t you going to even try to ravish me?” I love that. The only hitch I found (and this may be a personal thing) is the word fuck-buddy. It seems out of place and sounds very high school considering the mature nature of the story. Otherwise I think it's great!


Arthur Chappell said:

Surprised no one has posted a story here yet. I’ll risk being first if you wish. Hope you enjoy this erotic and shamelessly silly crime caper. AC

© Copyright. Arthur Chappell 2009 Crits Welcome

HEIST

It was quite typical of Suzie to be strapped down but still taking charge. She bossed The Boss around. “Not the Bank Manager game again, Trent. We work there all week as it is. Stop bringing your fucking work home with you.”

She wasn’t getting through to him. He seemed so enraptured by the role-play. There was no denying that he got off on it more than from any other fantasy. Doctors and nurses, squire and serving wench, full scale BDSM, all amused and aroused him to some extent, but big bad boss was clearly his favourite. His blue eyes lit up with delight. Her insubordinate irreverence was his cue for giving further punishment.

Suzie didn’t really mind. He was such a different man at work anyhow, quiet and unassuming, more concerned with paperwork and accountancy than staff and customers. His aggressive manager from Hell act was reserved for after hours.

“Miss Dildo, you were late again on Tuesday. I have no option but to take firm disciplinary action against you.”

Suzie giggled at his lack of subtlety. The game-name was crap, and she had never been late for work in her life. She played along. “You could deduct fifteen minutes pay from my salary,” she suggested.

Trent turned round, wide eyed, as if he had never thought of it. He paused, half in and half out of his shirt – the last part of his uniform to be removed.

“I could do that, and I might yet,” he said in a bad imitation of Captain Bligh. “For now however, I prefer less orthodox methods of punishment.” He threw the shirt to the rug beside the bed and picked up a homemade tickler, put together from strands of paper taken from his office shredder at the bank. He saw it as the only useful purpose the old Farrindon-Smythe account documents had ever served.

Suzie giggled as he tickled her feet, belly, breasts and finally her cunt itself. Fragments of the paper fell away and stuck to Suzie and the bed like wedding confetti.

Suzie writhed about as though in agony and laughed. Her bare untied legs slid around on the satin sheet as she tried to dodge the makeshift lash, and often succeeded. Her uncovered cunt moved in and out of Trent’s field of vision as she moved as best she could with her wrists tied to the headboard. Eventually, the glimpses would turn Trent on enough and he would hold her legs down, apart, and dive in between them. Suzie stifled a yawn. The game had been played too often and it was getting very predictable.

The thought froze in her mind as the totally unpredictable happened. The bedroom door burst open and half off its hinges, as four balaclava-masked men spilled in, waving sawn off shotguns. Their eyes were all that was visible of their faces.

Suzie laughed with joy until she saw a look of genuine terror on Trent’s face and realized that he hadn’t found four friends willing to join in their fun. These were real intruders. They wore dark overall boiler suits, and black woollen gloves. They acted as if they were unsure whether they were playing at ninjas or pretending to be in the SAS. They looked extremely dangerous nevertheless. Their leader wore a small knapsack on his back. And he was ushering the others in with hand-signals,

Trent bravely tried to stand between the strangers and the naked girl on the bed. Suzie steeled herself against screaming. All but one of the men peered round the naked man to feast their eyes on the gorgeous twenty-five year old girl spread eagled on the big soft mattress..

The leader spoke, laughing. “Forget the ropes lads, she’s tied up already.”

The men stood like statues, and the masked faces stared and gawped silently, as though frozen in time. One man started breathing strangely, and making gurgling noises. Suzie realized that he was drooling so much in his lust and excitement that he was actually in danger of drowning. He had too much saliva to swallow and the mask wouldn’t let him open his mouth enough to let some of the slop spill out. After a moment, he turned his face away to lift the mask and let himself breath again. Suzie saw his sharp green eyes and auburn hair in the mirror. He put the mask back on and turned round, oblivious of having given her a good clue to his identity. She made a mental note ready for eventually talking to the police. The man looked ruggedly handsome. Suzie sighed, and smiled. She was feeling wet for the first time that night.

Trent turned to the leader. “Take whatever you want. Just don’t hurt us.”

The leader jumped forward to within inches of his prey. “It’s you we want, Trent. We need you to open the bank for us.”

Trent went pale. They knew who he was. “But it’s the early hours of Sunday morning,” he protested.

A second invader, the man whose face Suzie had seen, stepped up “Yeah, Einstein, it’s weekend. The bank’s shut. Do we look like we want to open a joint account or discuss a fucking mortgage?”

The leader took over. “Get dressed. You’re coming with us.”

Trent turned helplessly to point at Suzie. “Are you taking both of us?”

The leader of the gang shook his head. “No. The lady stays here with two of my men. Any funny business, escape attempts or calls to the police by either of you and you both buy the farm. Understood?”

Trent knew he had no choice. He nodded and turned to Suzie. “Don’t do anything foolish, as they say. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Suzie looked at the man whose face she admired and winked at him as she spoke to her boss. “Oh, don’t worry about me, darling. You just have a lovely time at work.”

Trent got into a freshly washed and ironed business suit and tie, even though the robbers told him that a pair of jeans and tee shirt would suffice. He ignored them and even put his identity badge on. Going to work in casuals for any reason was utterly unthinkable to him.

“Fucking Jobsworth,” mumbled one of the robbers who were speaking for the first time, and Trent detected a hint of shrill effeminacy in the voice.

“Are we taking your car?” Trent asked the leader.

“No. We’ll use yours. The others will drive Suzie to the bank when they get a call from me on my mobile to say the mission was successful. If I don’t call by four AM Suzie dies. “

The gang leader and one henchman led Trent to his Bentley, and they got in. Trent expected to drive, but he found himself having to be a front seat passenger. The leader got in the back pointing his gun at Trent’s head and the other man took the wheel. He started the car with Trent’s keys and drove quite slowly, normally. They were not going to draw attention to themselves with screeching wheels and unnecessary speeding. Trent could see that they were taking the direct route to the bank, in Levenshulme, Manchester, two miles South of the house.

The driver turned to glance at Trent. Don’t worry about your wife. Our lads won’t hurt her. I promise.”

Trent shrugged and replied nonchalantly, “Oh, she’s not my wife. She’s my fuck-buddy. My wife’s got a similar arrangement with Suzie’s husband.”

The men saw the wedding ring on his finger and simultaneously cried out, “What?”


Suzie chortled at the men standing sentry like guards outside Buckingham Palace. They seemed nervous and agitated. After a few minutes, her patience wore thin. “For Christ’s sake, aren’t you going to even try to ravish me?”

The man whom’s face she had seen stumbled as if he had been punched. Her comment was so startling. “You actually want us to?”

“Of course I do. I came all the way out here for sex. Don’t you want some too, seeing me bound and helpless like this? Surely my tits must be doing something for you?”

“They work for me, sure,” said the handsome one, but Number Four here is gay, aren’t you?”

The other man spluttered nervously. “Yeah Chris. I’m gay.”

“You’ve told her my name you dumbfuck!”

“Sorry Chris.”

Suzie laughed as the men argued. She interrupted them before they came to blows. “So! One of you is straight and the other is gay. What’s the problem? Sounds like a perfect threesome to me. One of you fucks me and the other gets to fuck the straight guy. Face it lads, it’s not an opportunity you’ll get every day. Think about it.”

The bulges in their pants told her that they were thinking about it a lot.

Number Four shook his head in denial. “Lady, if you haven’t noticed, your situation is serious. We’re hardened criminals.”

“And getting harder by the second,” Suzie quipped.

“You don’t seem the slightest bit frightened by us. Why?” Chris demanded.

Suzie smiled. The bank’s insured against robbery, and we’ll get a shit load of publicity in the news tomorrow. That’ll bring new investments our way. Believe me, you are doing us a favour. I have no desire to escape. Besides, I’m strapped to a bed, and if you two get on top of me too, what chance would I have?”

Chris put his gun down carefully on the dressing table and started removing his boiler suit.

Number four saw him, and cried out, “What the fuck! Chris! Don’t! Jack’ll go apeshit when he finds out.”

Neither man realized the leader’s name had been uttered. Suzie took it all in though, and soon she was taking all of Chris in too. He wore only a grubby white tee shirt and his mask by the time he leapt on her. He tried kissing her and the woollen balaclava made her face itch. His cock landed just millimetres from that which it craved entry to, and Suzie felt him nudge up slowly to gain admission. She let him in, and purred in contentment.

Number Four saw his friend’s firm pink buttocks moving up and down rhythmically, and, unable to resist any longer, he dumped his gun and overalls to leap in too. His additional weight pushed Chris deeper into Suzie who wept with joy as she wrapped her legs around both of the men, and cried out for more thrusting. Chris felt the other man penetrating him too and it was a great sensation. His mind told him he was having his first real gay experience as he struggled to concentrate on the girl below him too.


Trent’s kidnappers parked his car opposite the bank, just clear of telltale street lighting. Jack, still known only as number one to his hostage, got out and quietly told Trent to follow him to the bank. The other man was clearly expected to guard the car ready for the getaway.

“Just walk to the door as if opening up for business, go inside and kill the alarms. I know all about sending silent alarm messages to the cops, so don’t even think about standing on panic buttons. “

Trent shrugged. “Not while you have Suzie, I won’t.”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah. She’s great. She isn’t sleeping with me for promotion. I offered her a managerial post last year, and she turned me down. She could be running her own branch by now. She works to live, so she doesn’t want the extra burden of responsibility. It’s refreshing to make love to someone who doesn’t have an agenda or ambitions beyond a good fun fuck. “

As he spoke, Trent opened the doors as promised; He turned the two locks with his keys, and stepped in. Jack followed, closing the door behind him, but not locking it. A wall panel set at eye level just to the left of the inside of the door was deactivated with a simple four diget pin number code, known only to Trent and a few trusted employees. He had just killed all the alarms. The lighting was on, but subdued, throwing the bank’s lobby into eerie shadows. A few CCTV cameras were clearly on, and TV monitors over the counters reflected the image of the two men moving around.

“I can’t stop the cameras,” Trent said nervously. They have to operate twenty-four seven.”

Jack grunted. “No problem. It’s why I’m wearing a fucking mask.”

Trent led the armed thief behind the staff counters, and through a side door that led to the vault room, which was dominated by a large solid steel walk in safe. There was a lot of space and several shadowed alcoves around the vault too.

Jack barked more instructions. “No bullshit about time lock delays, either. I know these kinds of vaults have manual over-rides. You can get in any time you like.”

Trent smiled. “The thought of deceiving you with that never crossed my mind.”

Jack felt nervous. He’s robbed banks before. The victims were usually shitting themselves or they were have a go heroes looking for a chance to hit him over the head with a chair. Trent seemed indifferent and relatively fearless now. He was clearly plotting something, but totally co-operative too.

As they approached the vault, Jack noticed that it was already open, held ajar by a pair of crotchless panties and a red pair of men’s boxer shorts which wedged the door.

“What is this?” he roared. “Do you morons ever tidy up and lock up before going home?”

Trent laughed. “Oh, my. I forgot about this. We’re not alone.” He knew it was no good denying it. The gunman would have realized it was obvious by now. The vault would be airtight, so whoever was within was keeping it slightly open to be able to breath and move in and out freely.

“Tell them to come out, now, with their hands up. The vault’s open so I don’t need you any more.”

Trent backed up to the vault door with his hands up in classic surrender mode. He seemed nervous again for once.

“Who’s here and why?” Jack asked.

“I let the staff use the vault at weekends. Making love on piles of money is a hell of an aphrodisiac. You get to pretend to be a millionaire. No one takes the money, and we have learned how to dodge the CCTV cameras completely. “

It was clear to Jack that the manager was keeping information from him. He demanded an explanation when a scrunched up black lace bra thrown from the shadows, landed on the barrel of the gun. He spun round to see who had thrown it, but he saw no one. He turned and pointed the gun right into Trent’s face.

Jack staggered back, feeling slightly weak at the knees. “Shit. It’s like a Carry on film here. I’ve had enough of this crap.” He recovered his composure quickly though. Angrily, he pulled the shotgun triggers back at point blank range on Trent’s face. Nothing happened. Jack swore. He had forgotten that he never loaded it. The bluff was usually all it took. Trent went pale and fainted with a whimper to the floor, convinced that his final seconds on earth had come.

Jack laughed. He could get at the money now. Trent wasn’t dead, but he was out for the count. He pulled a crumpled mail-sack from the knapsack, and walked towards the vault. He pushed gingerly at the door, cautiously reminding himself that he was not alone. He pushed the door slowly back, but found it suddenly pulled away from him from within as someone speeded up its journey for him, snatching the door back from his hands.

Jack screamed to see before him, a scrawny little man, naked except for a leather gimp-mask, in crude parody of his own face covering. The gimp kept poking his tongue in an out through the open zip section around the lips of the mask.

Jack pointed the gun at the man’s substantial and engorged cock.

“Forget it,” the gimp said. “We watched the monitors. We know you fired off on empty. Now it’s my turn. My mistress ordered me not to come, no matter how much I crave it. I do as she bids, but I can’t hold out any longer. “

He called out to somewhere over the intruder’s shoulders. “Mistress, may I give myself release now?”

“You may, Slave. You may,” came a dark, sultry reply.

The gimp put his hands to his dick and flicked it just twice with the left wrist before a torrent of semen poured from its eye straight into the eyes of the man with the useless shotgun.

Jack reeled back half blinded in fear and disgust. “Oh, you dirty little bastard!”

He swung the gun up, to hit the man with the barrel, but a lash from a bullwhip to his side took it from his hand.

Jack swung round, half reeling off-balance to see the tall Amazonian dom in her tight PVC cat suit and stilettos for only a few seconds before a fist punched him in the face, and knocked him out cold. It was Trent’s fist.

Trent grinned as the Dom peeled her mask off, which was a simple dark, glittery cat-face masquerade eye-cover. “Hi Daphne. He rushed over to her and gave her a sloppy affectionate kiss. They seemed relived that they were safe now, and happy to see one another, but the gimp interrupted them.

“He’s coming round, Mistress.”

“What kind of people are you?” was all the robber could say as he lay on the floor, feeling groggy.

Trent grinned. “Oh, sorry. Introductions all round. This is Daphne, my wife. Her friend Keith here is married to Suzie. We all work here at the bank, and we have a very open relationship. “

Jack barely took the news in before he passed out again.

Daphne sighed. “Thank fuck that’s over.”

Trent shook his head. “It’s not over. There’s another one in the car, and two of them are keeping Suzie hostage back at home.”

Daphne growled. “Twats invading my house? This means war! Keith, help me get this creep out of his boiler suit and balaclava, quickly.”

“Yes, Mistress.”


Dan, the getaway driver, was growing impatient. It was all taking far too long. He wondered if he should go and investigate. He was sure a police car had gone past, but it was hardly surprising to see the cops in such a rough urban district. Another thought crossed his mind - Driving off. He could just leave the leader to face whatever was coming to him and hope the little shit didn’t grass him up as an accomplice when the cops forced a confession out of him. .

Ah, no, here they came, leaving the bank with Trent in front, carrying a great big bag of money. Jack was behind him, still masked, and carrying the shooter. He was walking a little oddly though, with a wiggle to his hips, and he appeared to have grown tits – lovely big tits at that, but tits nevertheless.

Dan grabbed for his gun. He had loaded his, despite Jack’s orders. He wasn’t one to take chances with would be heroes.

As he grabbed the gun, something jumped on the bonnet of the car – a naked man in a leather mask was crouched on the bonnet, licking the window through the slit left for breathing, and shaking the car from side to side as he shrieked like a banshee.

“Holy shit!” Dan screamed, as he dropped the gun. He was scrambling after it when someone opened the car door and dragged him out by the hair. A woman’s fingernails dug into his scalp like talons. Before he knew it, he was lying in the road with a stiletto heel resting against his throat. Trent dropped the moneybag. There was no money in it. Instead, it was full of bottles of lube, packets of condoms and sex toys. A set of handcuffs fell out of a side compartment..

“You can have a feel of ours before the police put theirs round your wrists,” Trent said, grinning.

Daphne ordered Keith to get dressed inside the bank, while she and Trent lifted the cuffed robber up and walked him inside, to clip him to the vault doors right next to Jack, who shouted aggressively. “Let us go. If we don’t report to the others within a few minutes they’ll kill your friend Suzie.”

“We’ll never get to the house in time,” Daphne said, tearfully, showing weakness for the first time.

Trent snapped his fingers. “We’ll get these two to call them and say it’s all over. They’ll let Suzie go then, won’t they?”

“I’m not co-operating,” Dan said.

“Me neither”, said Jack. “Besides, don’t you realize the police will know you use the bank as a sex den? Your careers will be finished.”

“Nah, Trent said, nonchalantly. “I’m a freemason, and half the cops in Manchester are members of my little club here too. We’ll see to it that no word of our activities gets out, and it’s unlikely you lot will get out for 20 years at least.“

“We have no choice, “ sighed Keith. “We’ll have to try to reach the house in time and hope for the best.”

“You won’t have to,” said a woman’s voice from the door. Everyone looked round in surprise, joy and recognition.

“Suzie! How?” cried Trent, as Daphne ran to her side and hugged her.

Susie was wearing her business suit. It was what she had arrived at Trent’s house in, for the beginning of their weekend long game. She related her story quickly.

I got the fools turned on by each other and myself. They were fucking me and I used my knowledge of emergency self-release from Trent’s slipknots to free myself. Before they knew it, I’d hogtied them together with less escape-easy knots, and then I rushed round here in their car. “

“Smart girl,” Trent said. “Smart girl.”

Trent called the police, making sure that he got through to specific officers, rather than just dialling 999 to get attention from just any cops who happened to be around. The police came quickly, and the robbers were bundled up into a van and taken away under arrest. Trent and his wife went to let the police into their house in order to round up the other men, one of who was last heard shouting ‘You bunch of fucking bankers!” as the cops locked the Black Maria doors on him.

Daphne and Keith tidied up the bank, taking the time to have a naked money fight in the vault before re-setting the alarms, locking up and leaving.

“Do you think there is too much sex and violence going on in the world today?” Daphne asked dryly, getting into her own Bentley.

“No, Mistress.”

“Neither do I. Let’s get you home for another good thrashing. “

“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you.”

[Arthur Chappell]

Thanks for the terrific feedback Ellie, much appreciated. Glad you enjoyed the story - AC