Martin's Game

"Certainly sir... may I ask... what particular items you...?"

"I want a bra and pantie set, in silk or satin, oh and very importantly suspenders... what do you recommend Marilyn, do you have any suggestions?"

The manageress glanced up at him. He was studying her with those unnerving blue eyes, still smiling.

"Yes... yes quite sir... well we have several options to...."

"Let's start with you showing me the most expensive underwear in the whole shop shall we Marilyn. Because you see, money really is no object!"

Marilyn, ignored his 'joke' and busied herself collecting items from the prestige lingerie collection, but her hands were shaking noticeably. Just hold it together for a little longer girl, give this creep what he wants and get out of here. She laid the delicate items on the counter top, it was the most expensive. It consisted of a bra, French knickers and a deep suspender belt, made from fine, white, silk and trimmed with soft lace. It was beautiful and was a popular bridal buy.

"Is this the type of lingerie you are looking for... Sir?".

Marilyn didn't look at him.

"Oh yes Marilyn. They are perfect.. don't you think?"

She remained silent. So Martin reached out and touched the panties, he began to gently, deliberately stroke the silk between his fingertips. Marilyn watched his fingers moving over the silk.

"I asked you a question Marilyn, do you like them?"

"Well... they are... the very best quality..."

"Marilyn! His voice cut through her mumbled reply.

"Do you like this lingerie, you personally?"

"Yes, of course.... Please just take whatever you want and go..."

He moved so quickly and unexpectedly that the older woman barely saw it happening. Marilyn let out a yelp and staggered a little, as his hand grabbed around her neck and pulled her face down onto the garments on the counter. She was more shocked and frightened than hurt, surprised by his strength, she remained very still and did not resist.

"Can you feel how fine and soft they are...?"

He pressed her cheek into the French knickers and used his other hand to rub them over her face. Marilyn remained still and passive, but her heart hammered in her chest.

"... so silky, smooth and classy... an elegant lady like you, must wear these things all the time... don't you?"

The manageress tried to answer from her awkward, bent over position.

"Well they... they are lovely...but I wouldn't... I mean, they are far too expensive for me to...

"Now I'm going to ask you again Marilyn, and I'm expecting a positive answer... Do you like this underwear?"

Marilyn had never actually experienced real violence or aggression before in her entire well brought up, comfortable life. It was something shocking, that happened to other people, which one read about in newspapers. Feeling very frightened and vulnerable, bent forcibly over the counter, Marilyn told her young tormentor what she thought he wanted to hear.

"Yes! I do like the underwear!"

"Well I should think so because it's outrageously expensive... Would you wear it Marilyn?"

When at first, she didn't answer, Martin tightened his grip on her neck.

"Ahhh!..please...!"

"I have had to speak to you before about your attitude Marilyn, you must be more customer oriented, a little more positivity please!"

His voice, although outwardly lighthearted, carried the hint of menace.

Marilyn, tears starting in her eyes, capitulated.

"Yes, yes!... I do like the underwear...yes I would love to wear it!"

"Oh, well this is your lucky day Cinderella.. because your wish is about come true!"

Martin maintained his grip on the unfortunate manageress and his voice was low, threatening and had a hard edge.

"Now, you are no longer queen bitch here, so be a good obedient girl. That means that you're going to do everything I tell you, isn't that right?"

Marilyn nodded, too frightened to speak coherently. Martin lowered his face down so that his lips brushed against the older woman's ear, causing her to shudder involuntarily.

"You're not playing my game properly, answer me politely Marilyn, after all, I am a customer, so I would very much appreciate your complete cooperation... and call me sir... I like that!"

Marilyn had money and a comfortable lifestyle, she couldn't believe that this was happening, she believed that she could be murdered here, now in her own shop and no one would be able to stop this lunatic. She was aware of being totally alone with him, beyond the help the police, her husband or anyone else. There were no other options, she knew that she would have to comply with whatever twisted game he wanted to play.

"Yes Sir...of course, I am here to help you... In any way I can

The words were a parody of her professional sales speak, but the voice lacked Marilyn's well modulated confidence, it was thin and tremulous.

Sensing the change, he released the frightened older woman.

Marilyn remained in position, as if still pinned to the counter with her eyes closed for a few seconds before slowly rising. Martin thought he would test whether or not the older woman was telling the truth and would cause him no trouble. He addressed her sharply.

"Take off your that suit jacket"

Marilyn stared at him for a second or two, but he said nothing else by way of explanation and just stared back with those unfathomable, blue eyes. Slowly she complied with his order, the suit jacket wasn't buttoned and after, reluctantly, shrugging out of it, she carefully folded it and stood, holding it in front of her. Marilyn's tormentor allowed himself a hint of a smile and held out his hand.

"Almost perfect, but you forgot the 'Yes Sir'... hand it over!"

"Look you have the money, please let me g..."

"Hand it over!"

His harsh bark made the frightened woman visibly flinch and immediately extend the jacket shakily towards him.

"Are you deliberately trying to piss me off, you stupid fucking tart?"

His eyes blazed wildly.

" No, no...Aaah!"

Marilyn cried out in alarm as he snatched the jacket and flung it into the dim recesses if the half lit shop and grabbed the bow at the neck of her blouse. Using it almost as a leash he walked around the counter, dragging the reluctant lady with him, into the back room, as quickly as her tight skirt and heels would allow.

"Oh God, no please, I'm sorry... I'll do what you want, I'm sorry...!"

Once inside with his struggling victim, he hesitated for second, looking around. Over to the left there was a small sink unit with tea and coffee making facilities. Pulling her over to it with her now bedraggled, bow, which had become unravelled, he pulled her head down and knotted the two loose ends tightly to one of the taps. Marilyn was tied, with her own expensive, silky blouse, bent over, in a most undignified manner, wit her face almost in the sink. Fearing that he might drown her to shut her up, she stopped herself from screaming.

"Oh please, please, I promise I'll do what you want... I promise... Don't be angry... Anything.... Pleeaasse!"

Her last word was a plaintive, frightened plea for mercy. She couldn't see him, he was somewhere directly behind her. It was now quiet except for the older woman's heavy, panicked breathing. Seconds ticked by, and then a sharp, unexpected smack on Marilyn's upturned bottom made her start upwards, only to be jerked to a halt by her tied neck.

"Oowww!"

It wasn't so much pain at first, as shock, which made her cry out. She instinctively moved her hands to the tie to release herself, but it had been knotted securely and her sudden pull on it, had tightened it beyond the ability of her frantic fingers.

Smack!

"" Ahhhh!... stop it...!"

Smack!

She tried to shift her feet and turn away from the blows, but was restricted by her position.

Smack!

"" Ohhh!"

Smack!

"Stop! Please stop!..."

Regardless of the humiliation, the force of his heavy, stinging slaps, even through the older lady's skirt, tights and panties, had increased rapidly. Marilyn pleaded.

"... I'm sorry... Sir, please.... I will do as you ask, sob! please, I promise..."

The next blow never came.

Martin heard her pathetic sniffling in the silent back room and he now felt totally in control of this woman, whom one hour ago he had never met.

He let a few more seconds tick by, before reaching out to gently stroke the upturned curve of Marilyn's arse. She flinched and whimpered, even though a soft caress had replaced a harsh smack.

"You made me angry Marilyn. If I decide to give you one more chance, you better not fuck up or you will regret it, I promise! Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, I understand you... P-please don't hit me again... Sir... I will do what you want"

Her formerly, clear, controlled voice, quivered with emotion and she was acutely aware that, from her vaguely ridiculous, but vulnerable, position, she was unable to see her captor clearly.

"Well let's see shall we..."

She felt his hand, which had remained lightly resting on her still smarting rump, begin to move.

"Do not move or speak unless I tell you to..."

Marilyn, eyes closed, remained obediently still.

The hand impudently caressing her behind was joined by another and after a moment, they crept up to the waistband fastening of her smart skirt. Marilyn gripped the sink unit tightly and bit her lip, in an effort not to move or cry out, as she felt the tug of the fastener and heard her skirt being unzipped. It slithered down over her hips to pool around her ankles. There were a few long seconds before she felt the hands running over her nylon tights, moving up without hesitation, under her loose blouse, they grasped the waistband and yanked them down to her knees. Even after everything that she had endured, the older woman instinctively squirmed a little and clasped her knees together. For which, she immediately suffered a loud, stinging smack on her throbbing and now unprotected behind.

"Aaggghhh!"

Again, her body jerked upwards due to the pain and shock, again only to be arrested by her tightly tied neck.

"Don't close your legs bitch... You only move when I tell you to!"

Marilyn complied hesitantly with a groan.

Unseen behind her, Martin grinned, this was what he wanted, submission. He was a little disappointed however by her functional, nondescript, white panties.

"With so much to choose from in this shop, I expected something a little more classy, or adventurous, in the way of underwear from a lady like you Marilyn! These will have to go!"

"No please...!"

Although she uttered a token protest, the frightened woman was careful not to move. Then it was too late. Martin stretched out the side and snicked through them with his knife, stripping the tattered remnants away. Marilyn let out a little squeak, but remained as still as her shaky legs allowed. Silent seconds dragged by as Marilyn waited in her helpless position, tied down, tights around her knees, with her naked bum and quim exposed to the young thief. She was sure that she would now be assaulted, raped and god knows what else, her mouth was dry and her heart hammered, but nothing happened.

His sardonic, disembodied voice was quiet, but quite clear from somewhere close behind her, it raised goosebumps on her skin.

"I could do anything I want, to you and you couldn't stop me. How does that make a well bred lady like you feel Marilyn?"

"Please... I just want to go home..."

He laughed, but there was no humour in his voice.

"Home? To hubby and tea and TV? Oh no, no, that wouldn't do at all... we have a game to finish."

"Please untie me... Sir.... please let me go!"

"We haven't finished playing our game Marilyn!"

He sounded menacing again.

The older woman's Brain was racing trying to keep this dangerous young man appeased. Someone must come soon. The desperate woman summoned all her self control to keep him engaged and distracted.

"I... I promise that I will play your game sir... if you promise to let me go"

Her words and the way she spoke them under duress, seemed to have an effect on him.

"Hmmm. Well perhaps I did lose control a while ago. That spanking must have hurt... I'm sorry that I acted in temper...".

His hand lightly touched her reddened rear making her flinch again.

"... OK Marilyn, if you really want to play the last part of the game, I will let you go... But you must be a very good, obedient girl... Understand?"

"Yes, yes of course sir! Could you untie me please?"

By way of reply, Martin simply sliced through the tightly knotted silk with his knife and Marilyn was free to stand up.

Although, she felt utterly humiliated by her rough treatment and the state of undress. The bottom of her ruined, silky blouse barely covered her intimate areas, and her nylon tights were still bunched uncomfortably around her knees.

" Thank you so much Sir. May I be allowed to get dressed now please? "

Marilyn stood before the strange, young man, with her hands clasped modestly over her exposed quim, unable to meet his frank gaze.

"Yes you can get dressed now Marilyn..."

Gratefully, the manageress moved to retrieve her skirt, but then she heard him continue.

"... I want you to get out of that boring work outfit and put on this very expensive dress that I've picked out for you!"

"B-but I...."

"Oh no need to thank me... and of course the beautiful underwear that you so admired"

Marilyn was flustered, after having been through so much and then thinking that the ordeal might be coming to an end, now this!

"Oh no, please I couldn't..."

"Oh, but you will, because you promised to finish the game... and this game is dress up!"

His smile and glittering, blue eyes, betrayed his excitement and he was toying, threateningly with that tip of the blade.

"It's not difficult. You are going to do a little modelling for me... I would like you to pretend to be one of those well dressed mannequins in your shop window. My life sized Barbie doll! Do you think that you could do that little thing for me Marilyn?"

Marilyn didn't know what this young maniac wanted from her and she was trying very hard not to guess. She did know that he was violent and unpredictable, playing along was still her best option.

"Yes sir".

Her quivering voice carried a note of resignation.

"Good girl!"

The older woman looked him questioningly and waited to be told what he wanted her to do.

"Now pick up the lingerie and dress and pop over to the cubicle and get changed for me, there's a good girl"

She was on her own, facing a dangerous, young man, with only her wits to keep her safe. Without a word, the attractive, manageress picked up all the filmy items and the dress and walked into the changing cubicle.

Marilyn's mind was racing as she gratefully drew the heavy curtain and hid from his intent gaze. If she tried to run he would certainly catch her. Fighting was useless, she had already had a taste of how strong and aggressive he could be and it frightened her. She considered screaming or throwing something at the shop window to break it and attract attention, but the risk was that he would become enraged and he could easily hurt her badly, or even kill her before help arrived. Her one chance was to keep stalling him, humor him and wait for an opportunity to make a break. As she unbuttoned her blouse, the curtain was snatched aside, making her squeal and instinctively clutch the blouse back together. He was grinning.

"I hope that you're not going to be this shy when you model for me Marilyn! However, I must say that I do find your middle class, modesty makes this game much more interesting."

Slowly extending his index finger, he parted her blouse enough to see her cleavage and part of her bra. His eyes then flicked back to hers.

"Let go of the blouse or I will cut every shred of clothing off your body!"

His eyes were cold and hard. The manageress's fingers became loose as she gazed downwards, and her arms fell to her sides in capitulation. His fingers moved inside the silk blouse, lightly tracing around her milky orbs, over the top of her lacy bra.

"All that matronly modesty trying to conceal these beautifully preserved breasts...".

Marilyn's eyes remained closed, but she felt her nipples begin to stiffen automatically and his roving fingers found one and pinched it. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend, perhaps to herself, that she felt nothing.

"Hmm! It would be so easy to get carried away... "

His voice was a little tight and strained.

The older, married lady felt her face flush crimson at the humiliation of being forced to allow a stranger to intimately caress her.

"Please... don't!"

His intrusive fingers, which had slipped around, cupping and fondling, her sensitive breast stopped and reluctantly lifted away.

"I apologise... I am getting ahead of myself Marilyn..."

His other hand was holding something.

"I have brought you something else to wear with your outfit..."

He had obviously been seeking certain items while she had been in the cubicle, which he handed her. She took them with numb fingers, but the manageress's part of her mind, couldn't help but note that there was a satin and lace slip from the bridal collection and a packet of cream, luxury, seamed stockings.

"...now you have exactly five minutes to dress and I don't like to be kept waiting!"

His voice, for one so young, was authoritarian and confident.

The curtain was swept back across.

Marilyn 's fear and panic began to close down the middle aged woman's ability to think and reason. She had reviewed her options over and over... She had no choice but to try to appease him. It felt so wrong to be stripping off her own clothes in the shop in which she had worked for so long. Having stripped totally, the remainder of her work clothes and underwear lay in a heap on the changing room floor. The lingerie was beautiful and under different circumstances, Marilyn might have enjoyed the luxurious feeling of satin a soft lace on her skin., but now she trembled with the thought of how vulnerable it made her feel and what might happen to her. Even so habit made her careful not to tear the fine stockings as she rolled them up.

"I'm waiting Marilyn!"

The voice, still confident, had goading, mocking tone.

"Yes, yes... Please wait!"

Her fingers shook, but she eventually completed the most difficult task of attaching the suspenders to the stockings. Marilyn had stepped into the glossy, French knickers and clipped on the matching satin bra fairly quickly. She didn't want to anger him, so she dressed as quickly as possible.

"I'm losing patience...,!"

"No... Please... I'm almost ready!"

Marilyn was now standing nervously, in the luxurious slip. The dress buttoned entirely up the front with neat little silk covered buttons and zipped at the side. Marilyn knew that, given his aggressive impatience, he might become violent, if he was made to wait any longer. Using her experience, she undid some buttons at the neck and pulled it over her head, it slithered perfectly down into place over the slip. The manageress then buttoned up the cuffs of the billowy, silk sleeves and the neckline all the way up to the the conservatively high, ruffled collar and finally the zip. There was the finished article, straight out of her own shop window. The fit was perfect, the fine, semi-transparent nature of the ivory silk was given an elegant modesty by the slip underneath. Marilyn caught sight of her image in the mirror, she looked, pale, frightened... elegantly flustered, rather than sexually provocative. If not slutty, or sexually provocative what was he was after! What did he want from her? Was he going to rape her, or kill her? But after touching her he had apologised and stepped away! Was he just a mentally ill boy, with some sort of mother fixation? What did want? The screen curtain was snatched open and her heart thumped. He took a step back, staring at her, he didn't speak immediately.