Time Out Of Time - Chapter 90 (Mf+, bdsm, exh, nc) [90/??] The store was nearly deserted. I left the girls huddled by the door and walked along the front of the store. Pop cases were piled up against the front windows. The cashiers and tills a step or two back. There were a few customers lined up at the registers. Four cashiers were ringing up the sales. A more senior woman was taking care of the express line. Another middle aged woman was ringing up a elderly woman's purchases in lane four. Down at the other end two younger women had their lanes lighted. Lanes ten and eleven. Both brunette. The shorter of the two looked like she was helping bag for the one in charge of lane ten. I walked over to them. They were both mid twenties. Perhaps late twenties. Kathleen and Nicole their name tags read. They almost could have been sisters. Similar builds. Similar upturned noses. Kathleen was ringing up the groceries of an older gentleman. His young grandson, seated in the cart. Kathleen was smiling, talking to the older man as her hand swiped a bag of milk across the laser reader. All frozen in time. I wandered back to my nude girls. They were still frightened and huddling near the door. Whispering. "Christi?" "Sir?" She stepped forward hesitantly. "Turn around." She did and I unlocked her hands. I released the equipment pack from her fingers. She turned back around to face me, her hands limply at her sides. She looked at me. Apprehension still evident on her face. "You are going to take them. Aren't you?" I pursed my lips. "Probably." "Why are you angry with us?" she whispered. "I'm not angry with you." "You sound angry. Please. We haven't done anything." I touched her shoulder. "Christi. I really am not angry with you. I'm just in a strange mood." "It's not about what Jane and I did? Is it? Amy doesn't deserve to be punished for that." I shook my head. "I'm not punishing anyone, unless there is a reason to. We might play a bit, though." She wore one of those, I'm-not-very-surprised-about-that looks. "You are going to hurt us. Aren't you?" Her voice was flat. And almost unemotional. Though tears had begun to well in her eyes. "Maybe. We'll see. For now, we need to do some shopping. Come here." The frightened girl followed me meekly to where the shopping carts were stored. "Hands." She held her hands out in front of her. Expecting the cuffs back. I gently took her hands and placed them on the pushbar of a shopping cart. "Oh no. Why do I always get tied to the cart?" I smiled. She still remembered the hardware store. And Kimberly. Seemed like a lifetime ago I'd tied her naked body to that shopping cart. I silently used short lengths of cord to secure her to the cart. She pulled idly at the bonds, not expecting to be able to work herself free. She didn't complain further. Probably frightened to. I motioned the other girls over. I turned them around, one at a time and changed their handcuffs from behind their back to their fronts. Jane and Amy just waited quietly. Pulling at the restraints on their wrists. "Alright girls. I'm going to let you go nuts here. Buy the good stuff. Make sure that you get staples. Bread. Peanut butter. Cold meats. Stuff like that. Milk. Eggs. You can get some cookies or something. Whatever you want as a treat. Don't go too nuts though. Remember whose carrying all this stuff home. Okay?" Jane and Amy nodded. Christi was grimacing at the mention of peanut butter. I watched as the girls slowly made their way down the first aisle. Jane and Amy reaching for items with their bound hands. Soon they were out of sight. The naked women softly talking amongst themselves as they did the shopping. I wandered back to Kathleen and Nicole. I turned the gun over in my hands. Wondering how to release them. I decided not to release them at the moment. I walked through the store. Towards the back. Finally I reached a door marked Employees Only. Private. I shrugged. I pushed the door open. There was a flight of steps leading upwards. I walked up the stairs and opened the door at the top. Lunch room on the right, manager's office on the left. I peeked into the lunch room. Couple of older guys smoking in the corner. I opened the door to the manager's office. The manager had a small office. Desk. Chair. Phone. And a small window that looked out over the store. The manager was a woman. Coincidentally named Jane according to the name plate on her desk. Jane Orton. She looked to be in her mid-thirties. Nice figure. Reddish hair. Business suit. She was talking to another younger woman across the small desk. Orton was holding a piece of paper in her hands. Almost studying it. The younger woman was dressed nicely as well. Dark skirt and blouse. I ignored them, for now, and glanced out the private window. It was high and gave a good view of the store. I could see the nude girls slowly making their way down the third aisle. I couldn't tell what they'd thrown into the cart from here. I'm sure they were doing an adequate job. They knew what kind of mood I was in. Forgetting something would be cause for punishment. I turned back to the women at hand. May as well have some company if I was going to wait for the others to finish shopping. I studied the gun in my hands. Probably the easiest way to get them under control. I closed the door. I leaned back against a wall, just under a framed Escher print, and concentrated. The new Jane and the younger woman suddenly began to resume their conversation. Unaware of my presence. "... and I have a head for numbers. Have a look at my math marks. Miss Orton ... who's that?" The younger woman had just noticed me. Jane looked up and screamed as she saw me. "Who? Who are you?" after her initial startled reaction, Jane had raised her right hand over her breast and calmed fairly quickly. Calm under fire. "It doesn't really matter who I am." I tapped the gun idly against my thigh. Jane's eyes immediately glued to the gun. The younger woman shrank back in her chair. Really uncertain about this situation, but not really frightened yet. But I wasn't sure that she'd seen the gun either. Her view of it was blocked by my thigh. "What do you want? I can't open the safe. Brinks is the only one that can do that. How did you get in here?" Jane had begun to raise her hands, like in Hollywood. The younger girl had finally seen the gun. She also began to raise her hands. "Listen to me. I'm not interested in your safe. Keep calm and nobody will get hurt. Understand?" The two women nodded. "Put your hands down. You look silly. I know that you don't have any weapons. Why would you?" Both women lowered their hands and held them lightly at their sides. "Wh-what do you want from us, then. If you don't want money." Jane stammered. "First of all, I'd just like to know who you both are." "Why do you want to know that?" "Well, by your name plate on your desk, I'd guess you are Jane Orton. What's the point in not telling me?" I waved the gun vaguely in her direction. "I. I'm Julie. Julie Kensington. Please. I'm only here about a job. I. I don't even w-work here. Please just let me go." The other woman spoke up softly front her chair answering my question. That explained the dress and the paper that Jane had dropped to the desk. Probably the application, or resume. "Alright girls. You do what I say and nobody has to get hurt. Okay?" They both nodded. Terror cemented to their features. "First of all Jane. I'm afraid that your name kind of clashes." The woman looked really confused. Of course, she didn't know about the *other* Jane currently shoplifting from her store. "What's your middle name?" I asked her gently. "Kara." "That's pretty. Can you remember to answer to that name instead? You don't really look like a Jane anyway. How old are you, Kara?" She looked a bit confused. Probably difficult to get used to answering to a new name. I gave her some leeway. "Kara?" "I'm. Thirty-three. Why do you want to know that?" "Julie?" "Twenty-six. Please just let us go. What do you want?" I picked up her application. I scanned it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her shifting uncomfortably in her chair. "I'm just curious, Julie. You are twenty-six. And you've listed your education to third year of college. What are you doing here for a job?" "Please just let us go." "I asked you a question, Julie. I guess you don't have to answer it if you don't want. It's not like I work here either." "Oh God. What did you ask me?" Fright apparent on her face. "Why are you applying for a job here? When you obviously are more qualified for, what is it? Astrophysics?" She swallowed. Afraid not to answer. "I just ran out of money. I haven't finished my courses. And there aren't a lot of summer jobs in astrophysics. Please. I just want to get out of here. Alive." I nodded. "You just want to get out of here alive. You seem like a smart girl. Third year astrophysics, after all. You want to live. That's understandable. What are you willing to do for me, if I agree to let you go?" Julie paled. Her mind doing the female thing. Gun plus threats plus not wanting cash equals rape. Simple. Fascinated I watched as the thoughts flitted across her eyes. "Please. I don't want to be raped." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kara begin to rise out of her chair. I casually swung back towards her. Gun leveled at her chest. "Kara. Be smart. Sit back down. You aren't going to be real effective with a hole in your chest." Kara paled and sat back down heavily. "Okay. Okay. I won't try anything. Calm down. Please. Can't you put the gun down? Please? We'll do whatever it is you want. You look nervous. Are you on drugs?" I laughed. "Drugs are for losers. What the hell would I need drugs for?" I turned away from Kara and concentrated on Julie again. "Julie? I'm sorry. What were you saying?" "Oh God. Please don't rape me." "Don't me silly. I'm not going to rape you." "Wh-what do you want from me then? I don't have much?" She began to reach for her purse. She didn't really look like she believed me. "I don't want your money. Sit still." She snatched her hand back and sat up straight again. "What do you want?" Kara echoed the sentiment. "What do you want?" she repeated. "What if I asked you to strip for me? Both of you?" They both paled. It took Julie a second to respond. "I thought you said that you didn't want to rape us." "First of all. I said that I wasn't going to rape *you*. And I won't. Second, I didn't say anything about Kara over there." Kara paled significantly. "Third, having you strip is hardly raping you. You might be embarrassed a little, maybe even border on being humiliated, but it will hardly hurt you. You take off your clothes every night, don't you?" "I don't want to take off my clothes." "If I thought that you wanted to, why wouldn't I just walk up to you and ask? Why would I need this?" I twisted the gun in my hand. "Oh God. Please. Just let me go? I haven't done anything to you." "Julie, honey. You aren't going to like anything I want you to do. And you are absolutely right. You haven't done anything to deserve this. Sometimes life just isn't fair. But I'm the one with the gun." I shrugged. "I'll scream. Someone will come." "So scream. I won't try and stop you. I won't even shoot you for trying it. But I do promise that I will punish you later for it. And you'll like my punishments a lot less than you'll like stripping for me." I watched as Julie took a deep breath. Considering her options. Suddenly she let go an earsplitting scream. I almost covered my ears. "Please! Somebody! Help me. Help us. He's got a gun. Please. Call the police. Help." Kara had added her voice to the commotion. I just leaned back against the wall and let them holler. Shaking my head. I glanced towards the window and saw the three nude women, in aisle six now, look up and try and locate the source of the noise. Looking up towards the ceiling. Finally, they let up. Probably feeling a little silly, especially when I hadn't dashed from the room at the slightest call for help. "Finished with the noise making, ladies?" "Someone will come." Kara intoned without emotion. "I would be gone by the time the police show up, if I were you." I actually laughed. The two women looked distinctly uncomfortable. I raised the gun again. I aimed it at Julie's knee. She went pale. "Please. You said you wouldn't shoot me. Even if I yelled. Please." "I'm not going to shoot you for yelling. I'm going to shoot your knee because you aren't stripping." "Oh God. Please." "You want another chance?" "Why are you doing this to me?" "Simply because I want to see your body." She tried to keep me talking. "So you can rape me?" "Goddamn. How many times do I have to reassure you. I'm not going to rape you." Her face paled. "Now. Are you going to strip. Or am I going to shoot your knee?" Slowly her hands moved to the throat of her blouse. Her fingers fumbling at the buttons. Her nails were long and painted a deep shade of purple. It looked professionally done. Even a star pattern painted onto her right index finger. I seemed to recall that one of the most effective things in an interview being clean, well groomed hands. She had certainly taken that advice. She whimpered, took another look at the weapon in my hand and finished unbuttoning it. She swallowed heavily. Lowering her eyes, she pulled the blouse free of her skirt and dropped it on the floor. She was wearing a plain white bra. Front closure. "Julie?" She looked up. Uncertain what to do next anyway. Tears in her eyes. "Can I see your hands?" She obediently held her hands out. Palms up. Confusion in her face. "Turn them over." She obeyed. Turning over her hands. "Nice nails." I commented. "Professionally done?" "I. I had a couple of interviews today. I had heard it might help to do it. My. My friend does them. As a hobby. Sort of." "Stand up." The frightened girl stood. She was still wearing a dark skirt. Nylons. And three inch black pumps. Being topless, except for the bra, was actually quite appealing. She had nice breasts. Probably didn't even need the bra. "Continue." "Please don't make me do this. I don't want to take them off. Please?" "Julie. You must know by now that I will make you do it no matter how much you beg. Taking off the blouse didn't hurt, did it?" Her mouth clamped shut. Frightened again. Her fingers reached behind her and pulled the zipper down. The skirt dropped around her ankles. She stepped out of it and kicked it away with her foot. She was one of those girls that didn't wear panties with their pantyhose. I supposed it really wasn't necessary, but I'll bet she regretted it today. I could faintly see her through the thin material. Her face was flushed bright red. "Happy now?" "You ain't done, are you?" "Oh God. Please don't make me go further. Please? Haven't I humiliated myself enough for you, yet?" "Julie?" I motioned to her lower body with the gun. "Oh God. Okay. Okay. Stop waving that thing around." She closed her eyes and her hands moved to the front of her bra. "Please?" she implored one last time. I didn't even bother replying. "Oh God," she whispered as she unsnapped the clasp. The bra fell to the sides, still covering her. She shrugged her shoulders and peeled the material back from her breasts. She shuddered as the satin slipped off her body and fell at her feet. Tears were falling down her face as she tried to cover herself with her hands. "Julie. Still more to go, you know. Take your hands away. I'll see them eventually anyway." "Oh God. Not more. Please. Have some mercy on me." This girl still had no idea that this strip show would probably be one of the easier things I wanted her to do. "Come on. Don't have all day." "God. Why aren't they coming?" she whined. Referring to their yelling match earlier. Hanging her head, she worked her pumps off with her toes. Finally, resigned that she was going to have to do it anyway, slipped the dark nylon down her legs. Her legs were perfect. Pale skin in contrast to the pantyhose. She pressed her bare legs together. Her light pubic hair was just vaguely visible as she squirmed. She swallowed. "Please. Can I put them back on now?" I laughed. "Julie, honey. You aren't going to be putting them back on for a while. Or until your police show up." "Oh God. Please. Have some decency." "Me? Decency?" "Let me at least sit back down." "Okay." She self-consciously sat her bare bottom back into the chair. Squirming. Crossing her legs and crossing her arms over her breasts. Softly crying. I turned to the woman I'd renamed as Kara.