Rescued?

Karen Lindly sighed as she leaned back in her chair. She crossed her leg to rest her right ankle on her left knee, slipped the heeled shoe from her foot and began to rub it as she closed her eyes. She'd been working inhuman hours doing legal research for an upcoming case, and at 28 years old, was unable to pull the long hours with little or no sleep like she used to.

Karen exhaled deeply, lowering her foot back to the floor and smoothing her skirt out over her thighs. She looked around the brightly-lit floor. The law offices and cubicles of Ridley, Scott, and Brewster empty save for her. She began to gather her things, packing her expandable briefcase with papers, briefs and court documents. She glanced at her gold wristwatch and frowned when she noticed that time had once again slipped away from her. There was no way that she was going to the gym this late at night. Eleven thirty was too late to be running and doing even light sets of weights.

Karen shook her head as she hoisted the long briefcase strap over her shoulder. She had only started helping with the research in order to impress the junior and senior partners, show them what a valuable team player she could be. Somehow she had gotten stuck with doing the majority of the grunt work.

Karen stretched her back as she double-checked her desk and made sure she was not forgetting anything. Karen ran her hands down over her jacket, smiling as the fabric was pressed smooth against her body. At least missing her workouts hadn't begun to effect her yet. Her stomach was still flat, contrasting deliciously with the swelling of her breasts and the curves of her hips. Walking and running thirty minutes a day saw to it that her legs were still well toned as well.

All in all, she thought as she strode towards the door, she was pleased with her body still. She reached up with her left hand, flicking the light switch down to kill the lights. She smiled as her wedding band and diamond glinted in the light and then disappeared along with her reflection in the window. For a second she didn't recognize herself. She found herself admiring the image of the woman in the window. Light brown curly hair that seemed to flow down to her shoulder blades. Her suit jacket accentuating her natural curves, showing the generous swelling of her breasts underneath as it flared down to her hips. Her skirt hugging her hips tightly, showing the outline of her ass, the curve of her thighs as it extending down to just above her knees. The beige pantyhose underneath doing their best to massage her legs with energy, she was able to feel her thighs as the muscles tensed underneath the thin fabric, her calves as she moved her feet.

She knew her husband was still pleased with her body. He proved it every chance he could get, and he had lately been dropping hints about having a child. Karen really wanted to make junior partner first, before the added responsibility of children was added to her load. Hopefully after this case, about six more months.

Karen shifted her feet as she waited for the elevator. She got on and pressed the button to take her to the top level of the parking garage. Since I'm not working out today, she thought, at least I can walk down the two flights of stairs to my level. Her hand unconsciously went to the top of her briefcase, to the zipper pocket that contained her cell phone and the can of mace. Her fingers rested lightly on the can of mace as the elevator doors opened. Karen glanced out, then walking to the enclosed staircase. Though she wasn't really worried, she had heard enough stories that she preferred to be cautious.

She approached the staircase door, the small wire mesh window in the center of the door was dark, but Karen didn't notice that as she glanced at a nearby shadowed alcove. Walking quickly, she opened the door and stepped through, her right heel clicking on the concrete.

Karen gasped lightly as she felt a hand close tightly over her right wrist, pulling it away from her briefcase and her further through the door and onto the landing at the top of the stairwell. The hand kept a grip of her wrist, turning her around, twisting her right arm behind her back. She opened her mouth to yell, to shout for help, when she felt a rough hand clamp over her mouth. She was pulled back against an obviously male body, her arm across his stomach and her back against his chest, as it registered to her that this level of the stairwell was pitch black.

The man behind her shifted his weight, his foot moving to push the stairwell door closed, extinguishing the last beam of light into the stairwell.

Karen felt the man behind her, pushing her forward, walking her forward with his body against hers, until she felt the iron bars of the protective railing pressing against her, the uppermost one against her stomach.

Karen's mind was in a haze of urgency and panic. Who was this! Omigod, what were they doing!

As she felt the cool bars of the railing pressed against her stomach, waist and thighs, her instincts began to respond. She wanted to rake his shin with her foot, spear the top of his foot with her heel…but her ankle was pinned by his foot and one of the vertical bars of the railing. Bite! she thought.

Karen opened her mouth, prepared to feel his fingers – and hopefully blood - between her teeth, when she suddenly felt his breath in her ear, and heard him whispering softly to her.

"Stop struggling, we can't afford to make any noise. We're not alone here….listen." The man's voice in her ear then fell silent.

His quiet words stopped her for several seconds. Enough time for Karen to realize that something was very wrong this evening.

The stairwell extended below her into the lowest level of the parking garage, eight flights down. Karen was slow to realize through her initial panic that most of the lights in the stairwell were out, except for the lights on what looked to be about the fourth floor. The light was bleeding up from that level as Karen's eyes slowly began to adjust. She was blinded, though, to the levels below the fourth floor, as anyone below the fourth floor would be blinded to the levels above the fourth floor.

And there was someone down there.

Karen could hear it now, sounds that she couldn't make out before due to the pounding of her heart in her ears. But the sounds….what?

The man kept her pressed against the railing for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality less than a minute, as Karen slowly began to recognize the sounds. As she did, she thought of her cell phone and mace in her purse which was not trapped by her right arm.

The sounds that drifted up from below, from what seemed like the lower-most level, were haunting. She could hear the heavy breathing of exertion mixed with the deep voiced orders being given by different male voices. But the most haunting sounds were female.

It sounded like two different women. Two different voices whimpering, pleading with the males to be left alone. A shrill, panicked voice asking "Why, why?" And then the disturbing sounds of a body being pushed, the smack of an open hand landing on bare skin, a muffled shriek and groan as the pleading was cut off in mid sentence.

Karen then heard the voice whispering in her ear again.

"I noticed them earlier. I don't know how many there are. Looked like gangbangers. I think this is their initiation. Be very, very quiet."

Karen felt her heart lurch. Maybe she wasn't being attacked, she was being saved! This man was keeping her from being raped by the gang below, from becoming part of their initiation ceremony. Hope began to grow, filling her. This man would let her call the police, they could get help for those poor women below.

The hope Karen felt began to crystallize into energy, the desire to do something to help. That desire intensified when she heard a plaintive wail from below… "Noooo." Followed by the sound of clothes ripping and crude male laughter.

Karen then heard the man's voice back in her ear….."Lucky thing you came in at my level. I think you'll like me much better than that gang of animals. If you cooperate with me, you'll walk out of here, healthy and unhurt. If you fight me or make too much noise…." Karen's hope shattered. It transformed suddenly into the weight of cold lead, threatening to bring her to tears as it sunk from her throat to the pit of her belly.

Her attention was brought back to the man behind her. She could feel his body pressed against the length of her, pressing her against the bars. My god….he was hard. This man was only rescuing her from the gang, so he could use her instead. Karen's mind raced in desperation, unable to come up with a solution as the man pressed against her, his bulging erection against her ass.

The man let go of her right arm, keeping it pinned across her back with his body weight. He reached up and moved the strap of her purse down off her shoulder, leaning back and loosing the pressure on her arm as he pulled the purse swiftly down. Karen didn't think it was possible, but her heart sank another notch. He had taken her purse – her last chance of safety – from her. The man lowered it to the floor and kicked it back behind him, sliding it across the floor out of her reach.

Karen tried not to groan as she felt the blood rush back to her arm. She gripped the top vertical rail with her hands, thinking frantically of a way out of this.

The man took his hand from her mouth….whispered "Ssshhh" in her ear as his hands moved down over the lapels of her jacket, finding the two buttons, popping them loose and letting her jacket hang open.

As if to make it clear to her that her choices were limited, sounds began to again drift up from below. The sound of flesh making contact with the concrete – a woman being forced to her knees hard – a sharp smack, like a gunshot in the darkness. Laughter from the men. Comments began to drift up as the activity downstairs picked up in pace.

"Yeah, spank that bitch's ass, make her cry, turn that lily white ass all red."

"I've always wanted to cum on a Spanish chick, I want that one first."

Karen gasped. One reason was because the man behind her had cupped her breasts. His hands had moved underneath her jacket to find her breasts. He cupped them, squeezed them as he felt her nipples poking out hard from the fear and adrenaline she had been experiencing. The other reason – those voices! Karen knew those women downstairs. The sounds of their voices as they pled for mercy, as they cried out in shock. She recognized them. The 'white' woman was Stacy, a secretary at another law office on the fifth floor that Karen dealt with frequently. Karen's heart broke for her. Stacy was 24, very pretty, married and four months pregnant. To hear her being used this way….tore her heart apart, and at the same time, made her experience a heaviness deep in her belly. A heaviness surrounded by heat, that seemed to spread and radiate deeper, lower into her body. The other woman she thought, was Mya. She didn't know her as well, but had seen her working in an Investment brokerage on the seventh floor.

Karen's face burned with shame as the man found her nipples and began rolling them between his fingers. Karen was forced to listen to the women's violation, even as her body was violated.

The man moved his hands down from her breasts and over her flat stomach, much as hers had done earlier in the evening. Over her hips, down over her thighs, feeling her muscles clench in protest. A mewling sound rose almost inaudibly from her throat as she felt the man's hands moving up, raising her skirt as he did so. The man didn't stop until her skirt had been raised above her waist, bunched around the tails of her white dress shirt, the man's knuckles moving over her slick pantyhose as he raised her skirt.

The man's hands moved down over Karen's waist, and over the curve of her hips. His hands moved around the outside of her thighs to the rear of her legs, his hands eventually moved to where he could feel the swelling of her buttocks.

Karen grasped the railing tighter, her knuckles turning white. She could feel the man's fingers, pinching her as he attempted to grab hold of her pantyhose. He finally succeeded, tenting a bit of the fabric. The man paused, and then she could hear the tiny pop, her pantyhose parting as the man tore a small hole in them, his fingers moving through. She could feel his finger against her ass, another finger as he widened the hole. A soft whisper of a tear as he moved both hands under her pantyhose. Parting them in a wide rift, until there was a hole that extended from the waistband of her pantyhose, near the small of her back, down to her inner thighs.

Karen stifled a gasp as she felt an inrush of the cooler air in the stairwell against her skin. She cursed silently as the sensation of the air, the man's fingers against her skin as he widened the opening for his purposes, and the sounds from below, began to work on her. The heavy, hot feeling in the pit of her stomach had spread. It felt like a thick puddle that had settled just below her breasts and which extended down, down past her navel….Karen refused to acknowledge it further.

Karen bit her lip as the man's fingers curled underneath the fabric of her panties. His fingers sliding underneath the elastic, the back of his fingers grazing across her ass….and deeper, lower. Karen tensed the muscles of her thighs, her buttocks tightening as well, trying to deny the man any touch of what was between her legs.

She swallowed a whimper when she was unsuccessful. The man slid his fingers down underneath the crotch of her panties, his fingertips moved over the lips of her pussy as he pulled her panties away from her skin. The touch of his fingers caused that heavy, hot feeling to move a bit lower in her body. Karen tried to shut off her mind from the experience as the sensation settled just over her mons.

Karen's attention was suddenly transferred from her own predicament, as she heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being lowered. It took her a second to realize that the man's hands were still on her body, and that the sound must have carried up from downstairs. The sound of laughter followed, and a soft, smacking sound that she did not recognize. It was made evident to her shortly by the crude comments that followed.

"Yuppie bitch, you've never been dick smacked before have you? Hold her head still as I slap her with my cock. Open up wide, bitch."

A wail, "nooo" , cut off sharply and turned into a muffled groan, followed by a wet, gagging sound several seconds later.

"Not used to that much cock are you? Haven't had the cock of a real man. Too bad you can't have a real man's baby, but maybe we can help your friend out with that."

A frantic wail and the sounds of scrabbling, as if someone had tried to get away. The thud of a body being forced to the ground. The sharp sound of a slap. A hard grunt of pain and denial as the softer sound of a man's body on top of a female's, the softer slap of skin against skin.

Karen drew her attention back to herself. She realized in a start of fear that the man had worked her panties down inside her pantyhose. The hose ripped open down to her knees, her panties lowered to the middle of her thighs.

Karen looked around in a burst of fear and panic. Her phone and mace in her purse just feet away from her….but might as well have been a mile. The light from a few floors down beckoned with the empty promise of a safe haven.

Breath in her ear and a last whisper, "Remember, be very quiet."

Karen then felt the man's body behind her, pressed against her, moving.

Down?

What? Yes, she could feel his body as it slid down over hers. He kept a hold of her hips, movement down the backs of her thighs as the man sunk to a crouching position behind her. His hands moved to cup her ass, and squeezed. His thumbs between her legs, he pulled her lips apart, spread her as he squeezed her ass.

Karen's mind raced in confusion. What was he doing?

Her body jumped with tension as she felt warm breath, the same breath that had been near her ear, playing over her pussy, now spread open wide by the man's hands.

The man reached up with one hand, moved it over the top of Karen's as she gripped the railing. He loosened her fingers, and then drew her hand down to the middle bar of the railing, causing Karen to bend over the railing to grasp the bar. He then switched hands, moving his left back to spread her, and his right up to repeat the movement with her other hand. Karen could feel the cool metal of the top bar through her shirt as she was forced to bend over the railing. Her hands grasping the middle bar as she was forced to rise up onto her tiptoes. Her head hanging out over the railing, staring down into the mass of light and darkness beyond.

Karen immediately realized her vulnerability. Shamed to admit her helplessness, as well as a deeper shame building within her, one she would not admit yet.

Karen suddenly grasped the bar with enough force that her fingers cramped. Her entire body tensed, her muscles tightened as she felt a stab of pleasure, surprising her with its intensity. Her reaction caused by the soft, wet touch of the man's tongue as it slid against her, slid over her pussy as she was bent over the railing. The man had her ass and pussy spread wide with his strong hands as her began to work his tongue over her pussy. He licked her, tasted her, as his tongue probed inside her, then began to move over her again in long strokes. She could feel the man's head against her thighs as he turned, repositioned so as to sink a little lower. His tongue moving down, teasing, finally gliding over her clit.

Karen jerked as if electrified. Shame spread a blush across her face and chest. This is not, cannot, be happening she thought. She tried to force the sensations, her body's reactions, away from her. She tried desperately to deny them existence by refusing to acknowledge them.

And then several things fell into place, all at the same time:

From below: the sounds of skin smacking against wet skin, the muffled crying and pleading of the two women as they were used by the men. "Oh gawd, I never knew a pregnant bitch would have a pussy so tight. I'm gonna give you twins baby."

From the man: his hands spread her ass and pussy, his thumbs pulled her lips apart before slowly pushing into her. His tongue having served to start her juices flowing, his thumbs wet as they pushed their way in. The feel of the man's tongue as he pushed more forcefully against her clit, licked around it in circles, then over it, flicked it with his tongue before he once again settled his tongue directly on it to stimulate her.

From Karen: that heavy, hot feeling had spread and was perfectly centered in her pussy. Her clit throbbed, her thighs grow warm with the heat and the realization. Gawd, I cannot be turned on by this she thought. Karen then realized that she had involuntarily lifted up on her toes and spread her legs even more wide, granting the man greater access to her pussy. Her hands white knuckled on the railing as she put more of her weight there, she transferred her weight from her feet to her hands and her body on the top bar.

A blush of shame and ….acceptance….swept over Karen. Her breathing had grown quicker, more shallow. There was a fine line of sweat on her upper lip and brow. Karen knew her pussy was wet, she could feel her juices slide slowly down her inner thigh. The heavy, hot feeling grew. It wasn't spreading anymore, it just grew, concentrated near her pussy and clit as the man's mouth and fingers worked over her.

Karen was enjoying this. Her reluctance, her denial and self-restraint snapped as she admitted it to herself and what had caused her arousal. The whole situation working in an impossible manner to excite her and bring her to a state of frenzied lust. What kind of woman am I? To be getting off on having a total stranger use me while listening to the rape of two other women….friends of mine? Oh gawd, it's so goood, though. Karen's thoughts ran rampant as her mind began to respond along with her body.