Continued from… Free shopping (1/2)
“But, but, but…” she stammered. She did not know what to say. And she was ashamed because all the people in the store were staring at her. She shut her mouth and willingly walked with them. Just outside the store she heard the ringtone of a mobile phone. A phone conversation followed and then the unknown security guard was sent to another store where apparently a store owner needed help with… yes, a shoplifter!
Now that they are alone she dared to talk to him again.
“This is all a joke, right?”
He did not answer.
“Oh come on, one of you must have put that in my pockets. You are only joking, right?”
He still did not answer her. They went up the escalator. He was still firmly holding onto her arms and steering her in the direction he wanted her to go. The further they walked, the less people there was around. They ended up in front of a closed door. He unlocked it. In front of them was a passage and to the end of it she saw three doors. Two were open, one was closed. They entered the passage. He locked the door behind her. Then he steered her towards the closed door. This door was unlocked too, they entered and he locked the door behind her.
Only then did he let go of her arm. Her arm hurt where he firmly held onto her. She relaxed, knowing that he was going to tell her that all of it was a joke. Of course he had to play it out in the store, as his credibility as a security guard was on the line. She looked around in the small room. There was a table against the wall, with a closed laptop and some newspapers on it. To the side of it was a file cabinet and there were bulletin boards on the different walls with photos and short notices stuck to it with pushpins. She turned away from him to look at the photos on one of the bulletin boards.
What happened next happened too quickly for her brain to fully process it until it was too late. He grabbed her from behind, pushed her forward onto the table, her arms spread. His fully body was resting on her back. Cuffs that were attached to the far corners of the table were snapped onto her wrists. Once she was tied down, he took his weight off her. Her coat was pulled up and pushed towards her waist; her pants were pulled down to her ankles, as were her panties. Only then did she start to moan. Really, she was only joking with him. Flirting. She did not really want this to happen.
As the first slap landed on her ass, she knew she had gone too far. She should not have flirted with him. She knew that one day her flirting – with whomever – would get her in trouble and this was that day. One by one his bare hand slaps landed on her buttocks. Over and over again. She moaned. She begged. She pleaded for him to stop. Not once did he acknowledge any of her pleas or her moans. He kept on slapping her with his big hands. Her ass hurt. It was on fire. Her begging words fell on deaf ears. Her moans were alternated by the sound of the slaps.
He only stopped when she was quiet. When there was no more begging, no more moans. Only tears. Softly he stroked her bruised ass. Quickly he ran his finger between her pussy lips. She blushed when she realized that she was soaking wet. For the first time he made a sound. He laughed. Her cuffs were undone, the door was unlocked and he disappeared.
She took her time to readjust her clothing and return to the shopping center. She did not continue her shopping – partly because her ass hurt too much, but mostly because she did not have the guts yet to face him again. She ran into him at the exit of the shopping center. He was his cheery self again, laughing and joking with her as if nothing has happened.
© Rebel’s Notes