Jennifer didn't realize her last customer of the night was going to cause trouble until too late. He certainly didn't look like he could be trouble. He was an average-looking man of average height with close cropped dark hair, well dressed, but not expensively so, who appeared to be in his early 30s. He looked like he worked at a job that paid well. When he walked up to the counter of the clothing shop Jennifer worked at with a stack of t-shirts in his hand, she had less than ten minutes to go until her shift ended and she could go home.
"Will that be all?" Jennifer said as the man set the shirts down on the counter. She reached for them, gave them a quick count, unfolded them and started to scan the tags.
"No," the man said. "There's one more thing." He pulled out a gun and pointed it at her chest. "Give me all the money in the register."
"Oh, my God," Jennifer said, trying to open the register with trembling fingers. "Please don't hurt me."
"Just do as I say and you'll be fine. Open the register and give me the money."
When he had the money from the register in his hand, the man looked at it, obviously unhappy with the amount, and said, "This is it? It's not much."
"We're not a high-volume business," Jennifer said.
"I see," the man said. He took hold of her arm and led her away from the counter. "We're going into the back room."
"I want to make sure you can't call the police, so I have time to get away."
Jennifer didn't like the sound of that. She immediately thought of one way he could keep her quiet."Please don't kill me."
"I'm not going to kill you." He kept his hand on Jennifer's arm and held her tightly until they were in the back room. This was a small office, just large enough for a desk, a chair, a computer stand, a filing cabinet, and a supply closet against the back wall. A jacket and a sweater, left in the store by customers and never claimed, hung from hooks on the wall. The only window was small and dirty and high up on the wall opposite the door. It let in almost no light at the best of times. Now, after dark, Jennifer could see only dimly.
"Sit in the chair."
Jennifer sat in the chair, which faced the only door .
"Take your shirt and bra off."
"Take your shirt and bra off," the man said again, pointing his gun at Jennifer's head. "I want whoever finds you tomorrow to get an eyeful." He grinned, amused at the thought.
Jennifer didn't want to strip, but knew she had no choice. Avoiding eye contact with the man, she took off her whiteuniform golf shirt and the white bra she wore under it.
"Drop them on the floor."
Jennifer did so.
"Nice," the man said, feasting his eyes on Jennifer's proud, perky 34DDs. He stepped around behind her. She could feel the muzzle of his gun as he pressed it against the back of her neck.
"Now take your shoes off."
Jennifer kicked her sandals off. She shivered at the feel of her bare feet on the cold concrete floor of the office.
She started to unbuckle her pants. She had them completely unbuckled and partially unzipped when the man said, "I'm going to let you leave those on, but since you've already unbuckled them, you can leave them that way. Now put your hands behind your back."
Reluctantly, Jennifer did so. The man pulled her wrists together and looped rope around them, pulling it tight, then passing it around the back of the chair and looping it around Jennifer's waist. He wrapped the rope several times around her waist and the back of the chair and her wrists, pulling it tight each time. He seemed to take his time with the knots used to secure the rope. Jennifer thought he was enjoying this too much.
He then wrapped more rope around her upper arms and around the back of the chair, then above and below her breasts, again wrapping it several times, again pulling it tight, and again knotting it securely.
He bound her ankles next,, then ran a length of it to a rung at the back of the chair. As he did this, Jennifer said, "Do you really have to do this? I promise, I'll give you time to get away before I call the police."
He paid no attention to her, focusing instead focusing on tying her knees.
When Jennifer was bound, the man backed away from her. She couldn't see him, but could hear the sounds of him opening the supply closet behind her.
Then she felt him behind her again. He grabbed her blonde hair by the ponytail and pulled her head back. "Open your mouth."
Jennifer did so. The man pushed a handful of wadded-up paper towels into her mouth. He let go of her head and picked up a roll of tape. He tore some off the roll, pulled it over her lips, and pressed it down tight.
"That should do it," he said. He squeezed her shoulder, then let his hands slide down to her breasts. Jennifer moaned in protest as the man squeezed them.
Then he walked around in front of her. She watched as he picked up her discarded shirt and bra. "I think I'll take these," he said. He picked up her shoes. "These, too."
"Don't do this to me! Don't leave me," Jennifer tried to say, but it came out muffled into incomprehensibility by her gag, sounding like, "mun'mh mmh mmhmmfh mupfh mhpfh! Mmn'mpfh mhmmhpfh mhpfh!"
The man paid no attention to her. She moaned as he stuffed her clothes and shoes into a backpack. Then he walked over to her purse, which hung from a hook on the wall. "This yours?"
He reached in and took out her wallet and cell phone and added them to his bag along with the rest of her belongings.
"Take care of yourself, blue eyes," he said. Then he was gone, closing the office door behind him.
Jennifer waited until she was certain he was gone, then she started frantically struggling with the rope around her wrists.
* * * **
When she finally stopped struggling, too tired to continue, Jennifer was as tightly bound as ever. She could feel tears rolling over her cheeks and across her gagged lips.
"Hrrp." Help. How frustrating it was to be unable to make a single legible sound.
Still, she tried again. "Hrrp."
She waited for a reply. She heard none.
This didn't surprise her, when she thought about it. Her store was in a strip mall near the edge of her city. The stores on both sides were empty, as the entire mall was suffering from a decline in business. When the last store was closed for the night, the parking lot was empty and deserted. Still, she had to try.
When no one came to her rescue, Jennifer looked around the office. It was very dark right now. The only window let in the dim light from a lamp that shone over the back of the store. The only other light came from under the door; the robber must have left at least some lights on when he was finished.
When no one answered her muffled calls for help, Jennifer struggled with her bonds again, more out of a desire to do something than out of any real hope that she could get free. She already knew from her first attempts that the robber had wound the rope tightly enough to restrict her ability to move her hands, and tied it so that she couldn't feel any knots.
Jennifer had no idea how long she struggled. Again, she only stopped when she was absolutely too tired to continue. Tired and frustrated, Jennifer started to cry.
Jennifer only stopped crying when she ran out of tears. When she could cry no longer, she sniffed and looked around the office. She could vaguely see the shape of the desk just in front of her. She began to wonder if there was anything in the desk she could use to get free.
She struggled for a while to move her chair, but couldn't; her feet didn't reach the floor, and the chair was too heavy for her to move it without being able to use her feet to help her. She tried, nonetheless, and only succeeded in confirming that she wasn't going to be able to move the chair with her feet tied as they were.
She resigned herself to being there all night.
* * * * *
The time passed slowly for Jennifer. Because the room was dark, and she couldn't see a clock from where she sat, Jennifer had no idea what the time was. She spent some time struggling with her bonds, and then she heard a voice. She froze and listened.
It was a loud, deep, voice. "Police Officer," it said. "The front door is open and the lights are on. Is anyone here? Do you need assistance?"
"Mmm gghh," Jennifer said, trying to get the cops's attention. She could hear him walking around the store. He sounded like a big man, and he had a distinctive footprint. She could track his movements fairly easily because of his heavy footfall.
Heart beating in suspense, Jennifer listened to the cops's footsteps as they finally approached the office door. She couldn't see the knob turn, but could swore she heard it.
Then the door swung open and Jake entered the office.
He flipped on the lights, then stopped, staring in surprise at the sight in front of him.
"What the fuck?" he said when he saw his bound and gagged co-worker.
She struggled and tried to speak to Jake as his eyes dropped to her beautiful bare breasts and lingered there for several seconds. He feasted his eyes on her breasts while she moaned in outrage and protest.
Finally, he said, "Shit. I'm sorry. Let's get you out of there."
* * * * *
An hour later, Jennifer entered the apartment she shared with her friend Samantha. As it turned out, she hadn't been tied up that long, before the police officer regularly assigned to patrol that area saw that the store was empty and went to investigate. Now, she was tired and wanted only to sleep for the rest of the night. She would have to go down to the police station tomorrow and make a statement, but for the moment, she had nothing to do but to attempt to recover from her ordeal.
Because the robber had stolen her shirt, among other things, she was wearing the pink sweater that had been hanging up in the office after being abandoned there by its original owner. Jennifer was only 5'4" herself, but this sweater was designed for a much smaller owner. It was too short for her and wouldn't close over her ample bust.
Now, she just wanted to shower and have something to drink and unwind. Maybe talk to Samantha. That usually helped. She dropped her keys back into her purse, then dropped her purse beside the front door.
"Samantha," she called out. "Are you here? I've had the worst day, and I need to talk mmpmph -- " She was taken by surprise by a hand suddenly clamping itself over her mouth and pulling her back against someone's body.
Jennifer wasn't certain what happened next. Whatever happened, she supposed she must have been unconscious for a few minutes as a result of it. When she woke up, she was tied to a chair in her closet, dressed only in her white thong. She was once again bound and gagged.
She had more rope around her wrists and waist, and around her upper arms and chest. She also had rope around her knees and ankles, and another rag in her mouth and another piece of tape covering it.
The same man who had robbed her and tied her up at the store was leaning over her
"Sorry, honey," he said with a smile. "Normally, I'd've been gone when you got back, but it looks like you got free before I could get out of here."
"Uue aaztar," Jennifer said through the new piece of tape over her mouth. You bastard.
"Now, I've gotta go. It's been a pleasure meeting you."
Then he was gone. After several seconds, Jennifer heard the front door open and close.
She looked around. She couldn't believe this was happening.
Could she get out of here? Where was Samantha?
That was a thought. Maybe Samantha could help her.
Knowing how hard it was to be heard through her gag, Jennifer tried as hard as she could to make herself heard. "Mmmmmm."
The reply came from Samantha's room. "Mmmmmm."
Shit. Samantha was here, and couldn't help her. She must have been home when the creep broke in.
Jennifer blinked back tears while she tried to think of a way to get out of her bondage. She couldn't think of anything. There was no way to go anywhere, and nothing she could use to get free -- the floor of the closet was bare.
It had already been a long night, and it was showing no signs of ending.