In Need of Help

This was Erin's sixth vacation and boat show since being hired as a sales rep by one of the largest custom cabin cruiser manufacturers in the United States. From the moment she arrived at the airport the day before, the trip had been fraught with mishaps. The plane was late; the hotel didn't have her reservation; and, the Internet connection in her room didn't work.

Somebody else might have been too frazzled to do the job the following day. But Erin McAdams wasn't like a lot of other people. She was hired for several good reasons. Among them: her looks, personality, and ability to adjust on the fly. She was calm and intelligent, working her way through every near-tragedy that ever confronted her.

This came in handy when dealing with the executives and otherwise rich men she came in contact with as part of her job. Her 28 year old model's body and blonde hair wasn't always enough to get the contract signed. She had the brains and will power to win battles in other ways, as well.

Despite rumors within the company, Erin never resorted to using her femininity to make a sale. She respected potential buyers and earned their respect in return.

Despite all this, it was with a foreboding that the stars were aligned against her that Erin made her way towards the convention center, dragging her wheeled case of marketing materials behind her. It was early morning. She wore an outfit typical for her at these events: an elegant, if somewhat revealing, blouse, a short skirt, and heels. It wasn't a wardrobe designed for pulling her case up a long ramp, but it wouldn't be long before she was standing in her assigned booth, smiling and, hopefully, making sales.

She reached the entrance, thanked a fellow exhibitor for holding the door for her, and looked around the huge concourse. She had her credentials in the front of her purse, knowing she'd have to show them eventually. Signs seemed to be everywhere, only adding to the confusion.

Finally, she found a sign labeled 'Exhibitors' with a large arrow pointing to her right. She began to walk around the curved hallway, proceeding deeper and deeper into the bowels of the building. The wheels of her case clicked across the cracks in the concrete floor and echoed off the walls on either side.

Erin walked a considerable distance before coming to a 'Y' in the hallway. A crude sign written in Magic Marker directed staff in one direction and exhibitors in another. Erin followed her designated route.

The hallway, already dimly lit, became a little darker. She was concerned by the lack of any other participants in sight, but her uneasiness was lessoned by the appearance of a young man standing in the hallway ahead of her. As she approached, she could see he wore a generic 'May I Help You' badge with his name in the center.

'Jim' pushed himself off the wall and glanced her way as Erin came nearer. He smiled and she returned the greeting.

"Do you need help?" he said pleasantly.

"Hi. I'm an exhibitor and am looking for, um, section 109," Erin said, groping for her credentials and eventually pulling them from her purse.

"No problem. I can get you there," Jim replied. "Need help with your case?"

He started to reach for it, but Erin quickly responded, "No thanks. I've got it."

Her case was her livelihood and cabbies, hotel staff, and helpful convention workers were not allowed to touch it. It was just one of her rules.

He turned and continued down the hallway with Erin close behind.

"So, where you from?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Miami."

"Cool. You must hate to leave there to come to things like this," Jim said.

"It's a job. I'll go wherever they send me."

A maintenance cart passed them going the opposite direction, the tail end loaded with cases of pop and beer. Other than that, Jim and Erin seemed to be alone.

They came to a series of double doors, all metal, with no indication of their intended use. Jim halted at the second set.

"I know a shortcut that will get us in the back way. C'mon," he said.

Jim pushed open the door with a clanging racket that reverberated around them. They entered a huge, dark room and the bang that accompanied the door closing behind Erin made her jump. There was barely enough light for her to recognize that chairs, folding tables, and supplies lined all four walls. Otherwise, the center of the ghost-like room was empty.

Her heels echoed around them as she followed Jim towards a door on the opposite wall. At least she HOPED that's where they were headed. The farther they got inside the room, the less she liked it.

"Those doors are always open," Jim said. "You can use this way any time you want. I'm saving you about ten minutes of dragging that case behind you. Trust me."

His confidence didn't make Erin feel a whole lot better. Still, they headed straight for the door and, once there, Jim opened it with his usual smile. The light it allowed in nearly blinded Erin for a second, but she kept going, anxious to get out.

She was standing in a hallway. A short walk led them to another door and, finally, she was in the exhibition hall.

"Thanks, Jim," Erin said.

"My pleasure, Erin," he said, glancing back up from her badge. "Section 109 is towards the center. Good luck."

She thanked him again and they took off in opposite directions. Her heart was almost back to normal and she was in her comfort zone: the hustle and bustle of a convention hall about to become a swarm of activity.

###

The day proved successful for Erin and when it was time to pack up her case and head back to the hotel, she was exhausted. None of the misfortunes that had followed her to the new city raised their ugly heads during the day. She was at least thankful for that, and had a couple sales to boot.

She was packed and ready to go when she realized she really only knew one way to get back to the convention hall entrance. She considered following the exit signs, but then remembered Jim's comment about saving ten minutes of walking. The temptation was too great after such a long day.

Erin pulled her case towards the door he had shown her in the morning. She entered the hallway and approached the door to the cavernous storage space. Second and third thoughts nearly convinced her not to enter. But now she was alone in the hallway and, actually, not sure she could get back into the convention hall.

She pushed on the lever to open the metal door. Somewhat to her surprise, it opened...just like Jim said it would. If it was possible, the room looked even gloomier than before.

Erin looked across at the opposite door, the one that would save her ten minutes. She entered the room and allowed the door to shut noisily behind her. Just as in the morning, the sounds of her heels and the wheels of the case ricocheted in every direction. She walked a little faster, childishly afraid to look around her.

No more than three steps later, she heard a rattle behind her. Instinctively, she whirled her head around to look. Somebody—a man—was rushing towards the door she just came through. In the dim light she watched him shove what looked like a wooden two-by-four through the handles.

Erin panicked. She turned back around and ran in the direction of the exit. Her case rolled behind her awkwardly, her heels slipping on the floor and causing her to lose balance. Erin stumbled ahead. Then her shoe hit the case behind her and she fell clumsily with a gasp.

She had heard steps behind her. From the floor, she listened as his running strides came closer. Erin tried to get up.

A hand suddenly clasped over her mouth and a voice said, "Don't scream."

Erin was on her knees. His body was against her back.

"Did you hear me?"

Erin nodded and tried to breathe.

"If you listen to me, Erin, you'll get out of here alive. OK?"

She knew the voice now. Jim had shown her the 'shortcut' with this moment in mind. She scolded herself for being so lazy, and then allowed her fear to return. Would anybody ever know what happened to her? Where would they find her body? How would he do it? Would it hurt?

Thoughts flooded her mind—none of them good.

"Get up," Jim said, still gripping her mouth.

He half pulled her up and forced her to walk with him toward the exit door. When they got there, another two-by-four waited for them on a table.

"Take it and put it through the handles," Jim instructed.

Erin reluctantly followed his orders and effectively locked them in.

"All other doors are taken care of, Erin. Nobody is getting in or out unless I say so," Jim said. "Do you understand?"

Erin nodded, only now telling herself to think more clearly. She had a possible weapon in her hands and didn't think fast enough. She forced herself to calm down.

Jim was dragging her farther away from the door and along a wall covered primarily with long tables. Erin didn't remember the tables being set up in the morning, but they were now and she dreaded his possible intent for their use.

"Did I mention this morning that you look marvelous in those clothes, Erin?" he whispered into her ear.

Jim smelled her hair and let the fine strands run across his face.

"I wonder what you look like out of them. Did you make any deals today, Erin? Were you on your way back to your room to meet a potential buyer and convince him to buy a boat from you?" he asked.

Jim's free hand began to slide over her sheer blouse and onto her left breast. Erin slapped at his arm and kicked wildly around his ankles.

"Now, now," he scolded her. "I'm going to let you go, Erin. If you scream...well, I wouldn't scream if I was you."

He threw her forward and Erin crashed gracelessly against a table. Her momentum caused Erin to spin around so that she faced her assailant. She stumbled on a heel and reached back to steady herself.

"Take off your shoes, Erin."

She hesitated for a second, then reached down and removed a shoe. When the second one was in her hand, she gripped it with the heel facing out and lunged straight for Jim's face.

For an instant, she thought she had him. However, Jim rolled his head to one side in an athletic move and let her stagger right past him. Before Erin could turn to mount a second attack, Jim had pounced on her from behind and knocked the shoe from her hand.

He gripped her wrist, spun her around, and met her face with a wicked slap of his hand.

Erin shrieked with pain and fear, catching herself before allowing the loudest portion of the scream to escape her lungs.

"You are SO naughty," Jim said in a sarcastic voice. "And wild. I love naughty and wild, Erin. We're going to have fun tonight."

Jim softly ran his finger down the side of Erin's face that he had just whacked, as if to check for damage. His hand continued down her chin and onto her neck, underneath the collar of her blouse. He followed the opening towards Erin's substantial cleavage.

He sensed that her body was stiffening the closer he came to her breasts. Her erratic breathing could be heard in the quietness of the storage room and he could see her chest rise and fall.

The finger stopped well before reaching the first button of Erin's blouse. After a moment's hesitation, Jim used both hands to rip apart the two sides of the blouse.

The sound of ripping material combined with Erin's exclamation of surprise, and was followed a second later by the tinkle of buttons hitting the floor. With one mighty tug, Jim had Erin's blouse completely open.

Strands of her blonde hair stuck to Erin's perspiration-covered forehead. The normally perfect styling Erin worked so hard at had deteriorated into a disheveled mess during the struggle. Jim found the look extremely stimulating, considering it a sign he was still in control.

But his eyes quickly returned to the exposed bra covering his victim's ample breasts. The bra was a small, thin strip of material, present for the sole purpose of adding to her outfit. Her young breasts, certainly, needed no support.

Jim slowly walked around Erin and stopped when he was behind her. He took the open halves of her blouse and pulled them back, causing her arms to be locked against her body. The blouse slid from her shoulders and further heightened the restraining effect. Jim pulled the shirt in opposite directions across her back, finalizing the binding of her arms.

He held the blouse in one hand and used the other to reach into his back pocket. Erin listened intently, unable to see his actions. Almost immediately she saw his hand move in front of her and, with a flick of his finger, the long blade of a knife opened just inches from her neck.

Jim pulled her back against him and, for the first time, Erin sensed the hardness between his legs. He placed the cold blade of the knife against her neck.

"I really don't want to hurt you, Erin. You're so beautiful. I'd hate to see this lovely body ruined with streaks of blood. But if you don't listen to me..."

Jim pressed harder, stopping only when he felt the blade might break skin. He didn't ask for Erin's level of understanding, assuming the point had been made via his weapon.

She was relieved when the blade moved away from her neck, only to reappear between her tits. She felt the sharp tip work its way down the inside of her right breast and onto the material of her bra. It circled her nipple one time and slid under the center of her bra.

Jim looked over Erin's shoulder as he positioned the knife, and pulled it up with a violent yank. It slit through the bra as if it wasn't even there. Erin jerked her head back and Jim smiled to himself.

"It's sharp, isn't it? I'm thinking there's nothing you have on that it wouldn't cut through," Jim said into her ear.

He used the tip of the blade to push aside one of the bra cups. Erin's nipple came into view and Jim allowed the bra to rest against the side of her tit. Whether on purpose or not, Jim pressed his cock harder against Erin's ass as he leaned forward to view her exposed breast.

Erin was somewhat comforted when she heard the knife being closed behind her. She assumed Jim had put it back in his pocket when his empty hand came around and rested on her right breast. He pulled slightly harder on her blouse, thrusting her chest outward as a result.

Jim slide the bra cup over her breast for a few seconds before swiping it aside and allowing his palm to land on her skin. He roughly kneaded the tit, and then settled into a more controlled massage. He concentrated on her nipple, which grew larger and pinker as the seconds passed.

Erin fought the tremors of pleasure that resulted from Jim's manipulation of the most sensitive part of her body. She refused to give in to him mentally, but her body could only act one way.

Soon, Jim had the remnants of Erin's bra completely aside and worked on further arousing both nipples...and his cock. The tan skin of her breasts reflected the outlines of his fingers even in the dim light. By the time the impressions disappeared, Jim was back to the same spot, squeezing her tit even harder.

After several minutes, Jim loosened his grip on Erin's blouse just enough to allow him to pull down her bra straps, take hold of her blouse again, and pull everything off so that she was naked from the waist up.

In the split second that she didn't feel him making contact with her at all, she took off in a bare footed sprint. Her eyes had caught sight of what looked like a box of tools on a nearby table and she determined her best hope was to get to them before Jim got to her.

The plan had two flaws: Jim was considerably faster than her and running topless in a short, tight skirt aroused him immensely.

Erin was beginning to reach out in preparation for reaching the table when she felt his grip. Jim had a hand on the top of her skirt, squarely in the middle of her back. It had the desired effect of slowing her down enough to allow his other arm to wrap around her bare midriff. With an audible 'Umph', Erin landed face first on the table with Jim directly behind her.

"Damn it, Erin. Where the hell do you think you're going? You can't get out. You can't outrun me. There are no weapons in here that could do as much harm as my little knife," he said, puffing. "Now relax."

"Let me go!" Erin replied. "You've had your fun. I won't report you and it never happened."

"Report me to whom?"

"Security," Erin said. "Stay out of jail and keep your job. Just let me go."

The pain of her breasts being smashed on the table was beginning to make her wince.

Jim laughed. "Keep my job?! Right. I don't work here, Erin. I used to, but they got rid of me for harassing the female staff members. I just came down to see which vendors were, you know, in need of help. Then you walked past. Nice timing, babe."

Erin's frustration grew as he spoke and reality set in. "Fuck you!"

"No. Actually, I think it will be the other way around."

He reduced the amount of pressure he was applying to her prone body. But when Erin attempted to lean up, he put his hand on the top of her bare back.

"Bend over."

Erin obeyed; the pain was gone, but her fear mounted. She felt vulnerable, and rightfully so. She was two pieces of clothing away from being naked and she wasn't sure how long they would last.

Jim's hands worked their way up the back of her legs. They reached the bottom of her skirt and kept going, pushing the fabric higher. Erin's skin was unbelievably smooth to his touch, her muscles well defined underneath the flawless flesh. Just before reaching the bottom of her ass, Jim took hold of the sides of her skirt and pulled it up to her waist.

Erin's tiny black panties made Jim's cock twitch, despite being confined within his pants. The round cheeks under Erin's panties peeked out invitingly and Jim didn't waste any time before running his fingers over the gentle curves.

His pulse quickened. Without a doubt, Erin was the sexiest of all the women he'd taken in one form or another. He wanted her now!

"Stand up, Erin."

She eagerly took the opportunity to stand straight and alleviate the discomfort of bending over the table.

"Turn around."

Jim got his first good look at the tits he'd played with before. She was perfect in every sense. He allowed her to straighten her skirt, which had again fallen into its proper place, knowing it wouldn't be long before his got his wish of seeing her naked.

"Take it off," Jim said, looking directly at her skirt.

Erin debated whether or not to bargain with him. She thought back to the face slap—the knife—the grip on her wrists. She thought most about the knife. Then she unzipped the skirt and let it fall to the floor. With a flick of her foot, it was tossed aside.

Jim gazed pensively at the space between her legs. The panties clung to her like a second skin. It was time.

He nodded at her one time, the meaning perfectly clear to Erin.

She removed the panties under his watchful eye. He looked at her tits as they hung momentarily; he looked at the curve of her ass as she bent over; he looked at her blonde hair as it fell about her face.

And then she was standing naked in front of him.

A thin strip of light brown hair rose above her pussy, barely covered by the lighter colored outline of a bikini. At some point she had sunbathed nude, Jim thought. But not always. He wondered how magnificent she must look in the little swimsuit, and then turned his attention to how wonderful she looked without it.

"Turn around."

Erin held her legs tightly together as Jim stared at her luscious ass. Under the gently sloping cheeks, a cleanly shaven pussy awaited more than just his gaze.

Jim unzipped his pants and took out his erect cock. He moved forward and allowed it to rest on Erin's ass. He put his hands on her tits and held them tightly.

"Do you feel what you do to me? I'm going to give you the same pleasure, Erin. You may not want to be here, but you won't be able to stop yourself from cumming. You'll try to deny it, but I'll make you want to cum."