Linda's Late, What Happened Next

"... But, if you don't show, if we don't get the money, or we smell any kind of rat,,, and if you're not dressed exactly... the way I say... the deal is off, your porn film is viral and... you can still expect a visit one dark night... Understood?"

The middle-aged divorcee's tummy turned over and that light-headed feeling returned. She slumped onto the bed and shed a few tears, before breathing deeply and pulling herself together.

"Stop it! This isn't helping Linda... you have to find your own way out of this... "

Talking to herself on occasion, in that high, twinkly, middle class voice, was a side effect of living alone for so long.

"... you're meeting with them in church... people will be all around... nothing bad can happen... just do as they ask and get it over with! "

She washed her face with cold water and and set about re-doing her hair and makeup, finding some solace in routine. Calmer now, she resolved to dress as she had been told and give them no excuse to drag her secret into the open.

Still feeling anxious and with slightly trembling fingers, the respectable, middle-class, lady followed her blackmailer's instructions. Even though they weren't present in the room, she felt acutely aware of being subject of her tormentors control, like a Barbie doll, in the hands of grubby minded, bad boys. Nevertheless, a few minutes later, a new pair of shimmering, white, nylon, fully fashioned, stockings were being held up by a deep, white, satin suspender belt, which helped firm up her rounded, tummy. She picked out a white silky bra and panty set, before realising that the panties were not going to be required and replacing them, reluctantly, back in her lingerie drawer. Linda didn't like the trend for padded bras, her assets needed no enhancement and the soft material fitted well, giving her full breasts a natural shape. Being a more mature woman, she also knew the value of wearing a slip under her dress, as an extra layer of respectability. It would help to conceal the lines and bumps of her suspenders and would compensate, a little for her lack of panties.

Her mother had always taught her that a slip ensured the dress always hung correctly and because the material of her dress was quite flimsy, modesty would always be maintained. Quite important on a bright, sunny day like today. Especially when going to church today, in order to hide her embarrassing secrets. The young criminal hadn't said that she couldn't wear one, probably, she surmised, because he belonged to a generation that didn't know what one was. Linda had a collection of slips, in part once again, as a legacy of her marriage. She was often forced to wear blouses and dresses which were quite see-through. Gerald found it very exciting having his young wife, virtually, on display at dinner parties and events. He ignored her protests and revelled in her obvious embarrassment. It was then that the young Linda discovered how effective slips were, under flimsy garments, in preserving her modesty.

The one she chose was an ivory, satin full slip with thin ribbon straps and lace and small ribbon bows, at the hem and bust. She always felt very feminine wearing a slip under her outfits and, despite the circumstances, paused to look in the mirror before putting on her dress. The slip was pleasingly sleek and shiny, rippling across her full curves. For a few seconds, lost in reminisce, Linda had forgotten the dark nature of her appointment. When the reality of her awful predicament intruded into her reverie, she continued with her task in a more serious manner.

The dress was one that she had actually bought for a work colleague's wedding and had only worn once. It was expensive, Linda thought carefully before deciding, but for some reason, which she couldn't explain, none of her other dresses would do. It was silk, white with a navy polka dot pattern. It was a front button up style dress with a soft, ruffled collar, that could be buttoned high up her neck, very proper. It had long sleeves which flared out before buttoning at the cuffs and a belted waist, which emphasised her curves. As she turned in front of the mirror, the skirt part of the dress flared a little, but stayed demurely below her knees and crucially, her suspender straps were not visible. It was certainly a "posh" dress, as ordered and the belted waist and high neck, although very proper, accentuated Linda's impressive bust, swelling beneath. She wore a double row of pearls, matched earrings, white high heels and a matching handbag, big enough to contain a lady's essentials and importantly, a sizable amount of cash. Finishing the outfit was the most modest hat, to match her outfit and a pair of white gloves. The hat was smart, with a short brim and a small amount of netting.

Linda looked long and hard in the mirror, assessing herself criticality. She was completely over dressed and even here in the privacy of her own bedroom, she flushed slightly, in anticipation of feeling foolish. She was looking at a mature woman who had allowed herself to be dressed up, like someone's idea of a Stepford Wife. She was pandering to the immature whims of two juvenile delinquents, for their seedy amusement. Their mocking tones still rang in her head.

"I just want you to look your very best for church Mrs Jones, I want you to put on your poshest, most elegant, Sunday dress... you know, pearls and shit like that... I'm thinking mother of the bride here...!"

"... Oh yeah! Wear a hat, a lady like you is bound to have a Sunday hat for church... and some of your highest heels...

"... yeah, yeah... and some of them nice little white gloves, like women wore on old films... Oh, yeah that's sweet man!"

She suddenly felt stupid and foolish, she wanted to tear everything off and go straight to the police, but the consequences for her would be horrendous. Her dressing for church routine, had served to take her mind off the uncomfortable truth. Which was, that she would be paying money to her rapists, to prevent them releasing video footage of her degradation, at heir hands. There she stood, the "posh" woman in the mirror, neatly gift wrapped for the entertainment of nasty, sexually deviant, young men. Linda's life, over the last few years, had been calm, serene and ordered, but these young criminals had taken that life from her and turned her into their puppet. Essentially, she was being ordered to be dressed up, manipulated and told to dance to someone else's tune.

Since the rape, her safe, middle-class life had been turned upside down, it felt odd and unreal. Yet, she also experienced a vaguely lighted headed, giddy sensation and butterflies in her tummy. It could almost faint from the nervous tension and anticipation of not knowing what would happen next, after years of safe respectability. It could only be described as grotesque feelings of excitement, which came in waves, when she thought about what had happened to her... and what might happen to her! What was it about these thoughts of control and manipulation that gave a shy, respectable, middle-aged woman, like her, a silly and completely inappropriate, thrill of fear. This was a very real and dangerous situation, which she couldn't control and had no idea how to stop. She glanced at the time, checked for the fifth time, that she had the money in her handbag, glanced in the hall mirror and opened her front door and swept out.

At the church, the weather was lovely and it was such a beautiful sunny Sunday, that it was difficult to believe that anything bad could happen to her. As she walked towards the church, from the carpark, the warm breeze ruffled the hem of her silk dress and served to remind her, uncomfortably, that her panties were still at home in the drawer. The thought occurred to her, that her reputation hung on a random gust of wind. Linda could hear the organ playing faintly and people who were chatting, before going in, smiled and acknowledged her. She tried to, smile back, but being extremely aware of her secret state of undress made her her cheeks flush with embarrassment. As she walked towards the door, the Reverend James smiled warmly at her approach.

He had always been so kind and attentive around her, making time for conversation with her and always insisting on first name terms. Like many of the ladies at his church, Linda did find him attractive and she had an inkling that he was not immune to her charms. He was about thirty, tall, slim and quite boyishly handsome. He often noticed and complimented her style, clothes or hair, so, dressed as she was today, she knew that he was sure to comment. Normally Linda enjoyed the flattery, but today she felt very nervous and self conscious about the way that she had been forced to dress and really just wanted get past him and into the church.

"Linda! My word... you look... well... the very epitome of 'All things bright and beautiful' this morning! Ahem! If you don't mind me saying?"

He took her gloved hand in one of his and placed his other on top, in a warm, welcoming gesture, but it prevented Linda from moving quickly past him.

"Oh, well, thank you Vic... er, Ian..."

The middle aged, divorcee, with a great deal on her mind, tried to appear natural and maintain pleasantries.

"... I... well it was such a lovely day.... I don't get the opportunity to dress up very often now..."

The young vicar couldn't hide his gaze, which seemed to take in every detail of her appearance. His scrutiny was a little too close for Linda, who had an uncomfortable feeling that he could tell that she was wearing stockings, suspenders and no panties.

"My dear Mrs Jones... Linda... please don't even attempt to apologise... you look... absolutely marvelous!"

Linda struggled to find a light hearted response, because all she could think of was that the vicar was holding her hand, at church, on Sunday, whilst she was wearing no panties. She began to feel that dizzy, fluttery, thrill again, she was sure that her vagina was quite moist. The over-anxious and timorous lady was struck by a startling, if unrealistic, thought. Oh my lord... what if he can smell my... sex! Suddenly, Linda began to feel overwhelmed by a totally unfounded panic, she had to get away.

"Oh, well, I... er, thank you... Ian... I'm so pleased that you approve"

"Yes, yes indeed I..."

Linda gently prised her hand free.

"Mustn't neglect your other parishioners Ian... er, Mrs Booth is coming..."

"Yes... Yes, of course... right... I'll see you after the service then Linda...?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes..."

Linda returned, distractedly over her shoulder, as she entered the building and prepared herself for the ordeal. The church was cool and dark, even though it was a warm sunny morning. Linda had managed to smile and nod her way past a few acquaintances on the way in, but remained anxious and withdrawn. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom inside, she finally made out two figures lounging on on very back pew. To Linda's mind they seemed to be reminiscent of two relaxing hyenas. It was them. Linda felt her stomach flip. Looking around at the other nice, Sunday morning, church goers filing in, she was quite surprised to see that they all appeared to be totally oblivious to her plight. Equally, no one seemed to be in the slightest way suspicious of the two young strangers, slouching in the back of the church. They both grinned broadly, when they saw her and the black lad patted the pew seat in between them, in open invitation.

Linda looked around again nervously before, slowly, making her way over to them. As she walked towards them, dressed in all her refined, elegance, both Lloyd and Robbie were silently impressed, but neither showed it. Linda's lips, however, were pursed in an unconscious expression of disapproval as she arrived, high heels clacking on the stone floor. She perched herself, warily, on the end of their pew, nearest the aisle. Both lads pretended to look disappointed, before pushing further apart and, again, patting the seat space between them insistently.

"C'mon Mrs Jones... we saved you a good seat, the show's gonna start in a minute!"

Linda hesitated, she felt very shaky, now that she was so close to them and felt, ready to flee. Calming herself and trying not to show how frightened she really was, she made a show of smoothing and arranging her dress, as if she hadn't heard him. Her mouth was so dry and her throat felt tight, truthfully she couldn't really manage form a coherent answer. Even just seeing their faces and hearing them speak, was bringing back jarring memories of their vile attack. The older woman looked around again, almost all of the others had sat towards the front and centre, to hear the sermon. It was a big, old church and the congregation wasn't large, so the nearest person was about 10 to 15 yards away. She finally forced herself to look around, nervously, at the two young men, both were grinning initially. Then the black lad's face dropped the grin like it was a mask and he spoke to her seriously, whilst indicating the seat between them.

"Remember why you're here Mrs Jones... we don't want any unpleasantness in your church, do we?"

The threat was implied, but very real. Linda looked around again for some kind of help or guidance, but now saw only the backs of everyone else in the congregation turned towards her. Hesitantly, she stood up and edged carefully along the pew towards them and sat down where she was told to. Both of them, immediately, shuffled in uncomfortably, close beside her. She wanted to scream, feeling their claustrophobic closeness, but willed herself to remain calm and look forward.

Robbie couldn't take his eyes off Linda. She looked so lovely, smart and ladylike, in her church dress, hat and heels, exactly as he had told her, exactly as he had imagined her... no much better! Her silk dress and nylons rustled softly as she sat down, uneasily, between them and her subtle, flowery perfume enveloped them. She acted almost like she was sitting alone, staring straight ahead, as if oblivious to their uncomfortably close proximity. Although she didn't speak or even acknowledge them, Robbie couldn't help but look at her pink, lipsticked mouth, her prissy, pursed lips and marvel at the fact that his cock had been between them. He felt his semi-erect penis lurch in his jeans with the thought.

Lloyd too was impressed with the way Linda looked. However, when he looked at her, he saw a rich, stuck-up, white bitch, who despised him. The haughty expression of distaste on her beautifully made up face and the fact that she didn't even want to look at them, said it all. Well, that didn't matter, because he had fucked her, whether she liked it or not and truthfully, it was much better for him that she didn't like it. He had fucked the snooty, bitch hard, and filled her fucking upper class cunt with his spunk. Linda was aware of their eyes on her, but she would have been mortified if she had been privy to the crude, depraved thoughts that were behind them. The situation felt unbearably tense and Linda's sense of fearful, excitement began to mount, she shifted her bottom on the hard wooden pew. The overwrought woman, again had the foolish thought that, being so close, might enable them to smell the musky arousal of her naked pussy. She clenched her nylon knees tightly together defencively.

"Nice to see you again Mrs Jones, you're looking real good! "

Said Robbie, like they were old friends. Linda remained silent, staring straight ahead, trying not to give away how frightened she was.

"Yeah, but she don't look very happy to see us, does she?"

Linda glanced at Lloyd incredulously, her tightly stretched emotions suddenly spilled over.

"How could you possibly say that after you... what you both... did!"

The sombre surroundings and low organ music, required that she keep her voice low. Linda was trembling and it made her voice quaver, she was frightened by being this close to her attackers, but angry enough to challenge them. Robbie continued to grin, at the way this nice, middle-class lady, avoided actually saying nasty words like Rape! Lloyd, however was more business like.

"Give me the money!"

Linda stared straight ahead again.

"I... I haven't... You... You should be in prison for what you did to me....!"

Linda wasn't sure where this was coming from. She hadn't realised the strength of her own anger at these young thugs and it just came out. However, she continued to keep her voice low enough not to attract attention. Lloyd cut her short by quietly producing something from inside his jacket. He threw it, carelessly, onto Linda's lap, it was a still photograph of her, with her hands wrapped around the two youth's hard members. The quality wasn't good, but it was good enough to identify her. Linda let out a stifled yelp, which made two people look around briefly. Linda attempted a smile in their direction.

"Oh my god!"

Despite her fright, she hissed the words so as not to draw attention. She didn't really look at the photograph, but tried to cover it, both hands clutching frantically. The same two elderly ladies turned around again and a gentleman who had just waked in, glanced over. Linda attempted another reassuring smile, then whispered.

"You sick perverts... what are you thinking of... this is a church!"

Lloyd laughed, drawing a few curious glances again.

"How About we come early next week and leave a nice selection of these interesting pictures of you on all of the pews? Maybe under the cushions or tuck one in the vicar's hymn book? I'll bet that would make them look at you a bit differently eh?"

Robbie voiced his thoughts on the subject.

"Do you think the Rev would throw it away Mrs Jones, or maybe keep it, to wank to after every Sunday, when he saw you in church? "

Linda looked around the church in alarm, they had been here before her, they could have... Lloyd and Robbie enjoyed her middle-class, moral panic at the prospect of being publicly shamed in church.

"Please... you haven't... I... You are a monsters...!"

Linda crumpled the picture tightly in her hands.

"That's not very nice Linda!"

Lloyd pulled another photograph from a zip bag he had beside him, holding it just outside of her reaching fingers.

"I know you've got it, give us the money you stupid bitch.. Now!"

In a flurry of desperate activity, she opened her white, leather handbag quickly and gave him the envelope containing the cash. Lloyd ripped it open and glanced at the contents, before stuffing it in his bag, with the photograph. Meanwhile the rest of the congregation had risen to begin singing the first hymn. Linda also. stood up, she had given them the money, now she needed to get away from them and back to the security of the other parishioners. They both grabbed her wrists pulling her back down and their little group remained seated, unseen behind the others. Robbie seemed very excited by the developments.

"I think Mrs Jones needs a bit of a reminder who is in charge Mr Black"

Holding her wrist he prised the screwed up photo from her fingers. As she tried to stop him, Lloyd held her other wrist.

"No stop... Ugh.. give it to me...!"

The beginning of the hymn singing drown out her hissed and panicky outburst. First Robbie, looped her arm over his head and pulled it behind him, then he sat back and trapped her arm against the high backed, wooden pew. Lloyd followed suit and their seated, inner arms draped over her shoulders, as they squeezed in tighter. Linda squirmed unhappily, but was unable to free herself without attracting more unwanted attention.

"Let me g... mmmmpphh!"

Robbie pushed the tightly screwed up ball of a photograph into Linda's protesting mouth and Lloyd grabbed her jaw, turning her face towards his, only inches away.

"You screwed my picture up, that wasn't nice! Now, you chew it bitch... and if it comes out of your mouth before I say, me and my mate will start handing out photos around the church... understand?"