Author: Anonymous
Keywords: .
Summary: Jenny is taken hostage in a bank heist, during her time of the month.
It was a warm spring day, promising the El Nino summer to come. Jenny was off work and had dressed casually in a sun dress. Her large breasts still required a bra, and she could never go with out panties, especially since Aunt Rose was visiting that week, but the sunny print of the dress appealed to her on such a fine day.
She had errands to run, to the store for a few things, pick up some dry cleaning, this and that. She stopped at McWillies and had a coke and some fries. It was a warm day and a bit later she bought another coke and held the iced cup to her forehead. It felt good, and for just a moment she wondered how it would feel presses against her breast.
There was a long line at the bank. She joined the queue and patiently waited as, one after another, the people in front of her did their banking. Just as she reached the teller three men wearing masks and carrying shotguns ran into the bank.
"Everyone on the floor!" Jenny, slow to realize what was happening, turned and looked at the men. While the people in line behind her were falling to the floor, she was frozen in fear and could not move. One of the men jumped over the counter and began emptying the teller stations of their cash. Another found the Bank Manager and, at gun point, forced him toward the vault. The last one, taller and angrier than the others, steeped forward, rested the muzzle of his shotgun on Jenny's chin, and said, "Get on the God Damn floor."
Jenny's legs collapsed and she fell, landing on the man who had been in line behind her. He was laying on his back and her left breast ended up practically in the man's face. She hoped he didn't smother.
The Robbers were efficient. The Angry one pulled a stop watch from his pocket and began counting out the time to the other two ... 40 seconds, then 50, then 1 minute ...
At 2 minutes the masked man who was cleaning out the teller windows jumped back over the counter, his gunny sack filled with notes. At 3 minutes the other man emerged from the vault, carrying a sea bag that seemed very heavy. Jenny watched, very carefully lest she be seen to be watching, everything that happened. She was a good witness to a crime, she thought, carefully judging the height and weight of each man.
At 3 minutes, 15 seconds, the angry man grabbed her by the hair, rudely jerked her to her feet and pushed her toward a corner of the room where no one was laying on the floor. The other two men rudely ordered all the young female tellers to the same corner, and few of the women who had been made to lay on the floor only 3 minutes before.
The angry man, standing a few feet away from the dozen women who had been selected said, "We need a hostage. One of you is coming with us. If the cops don't catch us then you'll be left naked in a public place, a diversion. If one of you has any guts, now is the time to show it."
None of the women moved; all were shaking with fear and most were crying. The Angry man said, "No volunteers? Then I will take one of you." He garbed the young teller next to Jenny, a woman of 25 wearing a silk dress, stuck the muzzle of this shotgun under her chin and said, "Strip."
The woman tried to comply, pulling the dress off her shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor. Her bra was lacy and new, she wore no panties only panty hose; her pubic hair clearly visible compressed against her body under the sheer nylon. She pushed the hose down to her knees, showing her untrimmed bush to the mad men with guns ... her face became red ... and she fainted ... falling to the floor with her panty hose around her knees.
The angry man again garbed Jenny by the hair and pulled her away from the others. "You're coming with us." Jenny's eye went wide with horror ... her heart began to churn ... but the gunman just stood there, shotgun not wavering an inch. Then he said, "strip".
She was so terrified she could not move. "I said strip, bitch." Still she could not move. The muzzle briefly drifted to a spot over her head, she hear a loud noise as the angry man fired a shell into the ceiling, and then the muzzle was placed against her nose. She could feel the heat from the muzzle, and smell the aroma of burning gun powder. This time, with more violence in his voice the man said ... "Do it." An order from someone in absolute control. An order she could not avoid, not ignore, but must comply.
She reached around her back, found the zipper at the top of her dress and quickly pulled it down. She slipped the dress off, tears now rolling down her cheeks, her eye makeup leaving black streaks, and stood in the bank in just her underwear. The angry man said nothing, but used the muzzle of his shotgun and tapped her none too gently under her jaw. The message was clear.
Jenny, now resigned to her fate, still crying, but without alternative, slid the straps from her bra down, over her shoulders, and then pulled her arms out of the straps. She quickly rotated the bra around her body, exposing her large breasts, so the clasp was in front, and undid the bra, allowing it to fall to the floor. The muzzle remained jammed into her neck ... she had no choice ... she pushed her panties down, past her knees, and let them fall to the floor. Then she steeped out of them, naked. The string from her tampon was clearly visible, hanging from her pussy. One of the robbers produced a roll of duct tape and quickly taped her hands together, behind her.
The angry one garbed her hair and pulled her toward the door, then outside into the warm day. A dozen people saw this parade and saw Jenny ... her breasts, the string, her pubic hair; they pulled her toward a white mini-van, one with no windows in the back, and then roughly threw her in the back, along with the sacks of money.
She heard the engine start and the van moved away very quickly. One of the men put a strip of duct tape over her eyes. Now sightless and helpless, she could only wait.
Far away she heard a police siren but it faded into the distance. She felt a finger in her pussy ... "You God Damn Bitch ... bleed on me will ya ..." and the tampon was pulled out. In a few moments she could feel the warmth and wetness of her menstrual blood oozing down her leg. At the same moment she realized she had to pee. She heard several clicking sounds.
It seemed like an hour until the van stopped. Her bladder was bursting by now and the inside of her legs were sticky and wet. She heard the back door of the van open and could feel the warm sun light on her body. One of the men garbed her feet and pulled her from the van; her cheeks burned from the friction of being pulled out feet first.
They placed her on her feet. She fell once, managed to right herself, regain her feet, and as the engine noise from the van faded away she tried to get some understand of her surroundings. There was traffic noise but is seemed to be blocks away. She began to walk, bumped into something, changed direction and walked a little further.
She heard a new sound, like water running, and that was the end of her self control. Her bladder could no longer contain itself, and the urine began to run from her body. While she purged, she heard a giggle, then another ... the tape was ripped from her eyes and she saw a troop of Boy Scouts in their uniforms at the side of an urban lake, fishing. Two dozen eyes were on her ... on the stream of urine still draining from her body, on the blood on her legs, on her breasts ...
She regained consciousnesses in the emergency room.
The police woman was consoling, hugged her twice and held her hand. No, the men had not been caught but their get away van had been found. It was only a matter of time until they were apprehended. There was just one more thing ... they found several empty 35mm film boxes ... did she remember anyone taking any pictures?