The Day of the Attack

Maggie sat on the floor at my right side. She had this pretty, shaky, dimpled, nervous smile. It felt strange that this was really the first time we'd ever talked.

I started with my brilliant standard opener. "Hey."

"Hey." She looked fantastic in this silhouetted profile. It was still dark, but there was little denying her warm, comfortable beauty. Her hair was strawberry blonde, cut straight and falling just below the shoulder. She looked down at her lap for a few moments then back over to me. Those eyes were so vivid green. She started to speak, but seemed to choke up a little, so she carefully exhaled, as if nervously rethinking what she wanted to say.

I saved her the trouble. "So, I guess you're my new boss?"

She laughed, thank god. "No, no. I don't think so. Although..."

I looked at her, curious. She took my right hand in both of hers. Then she nestled her head on my shoulder and neck, and looked forward. "Although, I do think you deserve a raise."

We sat there for a while, probably two or three minutes, until I noticed her eyes were shut. I can only say that at that moment I felt some sort of simple bliss. It probably had something to do with going through this day of fear and adrenalin and pain -- and still being in the middle of it -- but somewhere finding a moment of contentment of a beautiful girl you barely know but already shares some unspoken intimacy. It also could have been the Vicodin.

Thinking Maggie asleep, I shifted my right arm around her a bit and leaned back to doze off again myself. As I did so, she kissed a spot just beneath my jaw. "Are you in any pain?"

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm feeling wonderful, in fact."

She smiled sleepily. "Would you tell me if I do anything that hurts you, or anything you don't feel up to?" I nodded and whispered okay.

She rolled over on her side so her right leg lay over my own., then slowly, carefully unbuttoned my shirt. She carefully looked over the superficial cuts, and began to slowly trace around them with the tip of her tongue.

My dick pulsed. Good thing to know the drugs weren't hindering me there. She lifted off her blouse unceremoniously, before I even noticed that it was gone. She had a flat, even tummy. Her breasts were smooth and pale, the simple white bra she was wearing was probably a large B or a C cup, and they suited her body well. She wrapped her arm around and squeezed against me, avoiding my injuries, but hugging tight enough to shift her bra askew so they uncovered her taut breasts altogether.

She cuddled up against me again, the crotch of her jeans rubbing up against the side of my hip. Her right thigh made wonderful stroke up against my cock, and with that, I became possibly as erect as I have ever been. Because my pants made this extraordinarily uncomfortable, I moved to take my right hand out from behind Maggie to try to readjust myself, but she caught me to the punch. She saw the look on my face, and reached down to correct which way the length of my member had shifted. After a moment of grasping, her solution, of course, was to drop my pants and underwear down completely. My cock stood rigid up against my belly.

Maggie paused, enthralled. She reached her hand up and wiggled my shaft a bit, playing around with how it pulsed at her touch and would spring back into position. As thrilling as our relaxed exploration had been, this sort of play was almost too much to take. I grinned and grabbed her left hand with my right, then rolled over atop her. I straddled her torso, by cock jutting forward between her breasts.

She gasped happily. "You're not so hurt after all, are you?"

Keeping my eyes met with hers, I reached back behind myself with my right hand and unbuttoned her jeans blindly. She shuddered with expectation, closed her eyes, then opened them again to stare at the cock pointing at her face. As I reached my right hand down into her panties, Maggie's hands worked the pre-cum off my tip and rubbed it all around the head. I moved my hips up and down a bit as I straddled her belly, and with my right hand behind me taking hold of her wet, bucking crotch, and my left hand held high in the air, I felt a bit like a rodeo rider.

Her head tilted forward, lips opened, and tongue stuck out a bit, brazenly inviting me in. Her dimples disappeared as she opened wide and guided my hips forward. My right middle and ring finger probed inside her as my palm pushed and rubbed down on the fleshy area of her clit. My hand was drenched and I felt the vertical walls pressing back hard, pushing the two probing fingers together. As her heat rose, I added the index finger and thrust harder and faster.

My legs shifted forward so I was holding myself lightly atop Maggie's soft breasts. On the back of my thighs I felt her sharp, erect nipples. I had to lean back a bit to keep my right hand down her panties. My cock entered her waiting mouth about two inches-- it was dizzying. One of her hands held my hip as the other held firm the base of my cock, urging it back and forth at a rate matching my hand's strokes into her pussy.

Maggie's body was flush and slick with sweat. Her hair seemed darker and wet, a few random soaked strands of hair splayed across her face as my cock thrust into her mouth deeper with each stroke. A minute in, her tongue pressed up hard against the bottom of my shaft and she sucked in hard. For the briefest moment I worried that something was wrong, but then felt her pussy throb and shake with intensity, squeezing and releasing my fingers tightly five or six times. The sensation against my cock along with the realization that this beautiful creature was currently having an orgasm almost brought me to the edge too, but Maggie pushed me out of her mouth and onto my side at the last moment and dragged herself to her knees exhaustedly, trying to regain her composure.

She finally removed her bra completely -- the top of her jeans and panties still rested halfway down her thighs as she stared at me intensely, her wet strawberry hair falling down across her face. We both caught our breath for about five tense seconds before Maggie energetically wiggled out of the rest of her clothes and pounced. She pushed me onto my back against the floor, now completely oblivious to her earlier worries about hurting me, and wasted no time positioning herself directly atop my rigid dick, grinding it between my belly and her mound for just a couple of seconds, then sliding it inside her. Maggie took only a few impatient bounces on top of me to guide it three inches in, then four, then five, then six, until she was bouncing hard against my hips, thrusting my cock fully inside her with each delicious bound of her breasts. The look on her face seemed at first quite like sadness or pain as she stared into my eyes, but I knew better as her heavy breath became ragged. Maintaining her pace on and off my cock, she leaned forward and kissed my mouth deeply.

I had trouble thinking straight. Maggie's voice was weak and pleading, "Oh god. Please cum, Ryan. Please cum. Please cum. Please cum. Please cum." Her hands pressed hard against my chest and she thrashed and shook as her pussy muscles gripped me tensely, weakened for a moment, then gripped me even tighter. It was over. I lost the ability to breathe in while burst after burst of cum surged out and into her throbbing pussy, its grip on the base of my cock controlling the pulses of ejaculation.

Maggie came to rest atop me, spent. Her head relaxed against my chest and she closed her eyes. A thin line of spit ran unnoticed from the edge of her lips to my sternum. My penis stayed inside her until it limply fell out minutes later, dripping with our juices.

Later, there was a knock at the office door. Maggie was already dressed and at her desk, collecting a few random things like pencils and perfume. She nudged me to put on my clothes, and opened the door when she saw I was covered.

It was Ben, he looked tired. "Hey kids. I needed to ask... I think that maybe Adam should stay with Jillian and me in the office for a while."

I stood up. "The room? Sure, of course. But why, what's up?"

"Our guest is awake. And I don't think the boy needs to be around what's next."

Maggie and I walked back into the storage room where Vick was shining a flashlight in the eyes of the gunman we had brought back and taped into a chair. The captive's chair faced a corner -- his back was to us and he could only see Vick. I noticed his rifle over near Amanda and Corellia, somewhat hidden behind a box of clothing. Our captive seemed to curse from beneath his taped mouth. Jillian and Ben hustled Adam into the manager's office and closed the door. Noticing Adam's exit, Vick took the boxcutter from his pocket.

"Okay, you're going to have to answer some questions now. It's been all day, and for some reason this isn't over yet. I'm going to take the tape off your mouth, so you can tell us who you are and what this is all about." Vick hesitated a moment, looked over at the rest of us then carefully removed the tape over the gunman's mouth. "Fuck you," he spat.

Vick shook his head. "So, what is it, this is like a terrorist thing, right?" Our guest looked to have possibly been Middle Eastern, but it wasn't obvious. For some reason, my first impression was that he could be a French Canadian lumberjack, with his dark beard, heavy shoulders, green work clothes, and undistinguishable accent.

"Fuck. You."

Vick frowned, "No, man, fuck you. I'm serious. We need to know what's happening here. We're just people who want out of this shit, so you've got to tell us." Vick showed the gunman the boxcutter and clicked the blade into view. "All you've got to do is tell us."

My heart began to pound. I moved forward to talk to Vick but Maggie gripped my good hand to keep me back. I heard Amanda and Corellia murmur to each other in worry.

The captive laughed. "Little man, you do not threaten me. I hope you enjoy your last day."

Vick was frustrated. He brandished the blade. "Well, I hope you enjoyed having all your fingers, you piece of shit, because that's not going to last long." Vick hesitated, looking into his opponent's eyes, hoping to see a little fear, a little sympathy, anything. "I'm serious, you have five seconds before I start my first fingerectomy." Vick tried for menacing, "It'll be fun, maybe a little trial and error. On the job training."

The gunman gave him nothing, and taunted, "Five seconds is up. Why is the little man not using the little knife?" I could see Vick getting angry, and his grip on the boxcutter tighten.

Just then, Corellia put a shirt over the captive's head to block his vision, then took Vick by the hand and led him back, away to talk with the rest of us in hushed voices.

Corellia was adamant, "No, no Victor. You cannot, you cannot cut the finger off of this bad man. I will not let you, I will leave out the door."

Vick shook his head. "Jesus, are you kidding? I don't want to torture anyone. I thought he'd talk already."

Corellia hugged him, and Maggie held his hand. "We can just let him sit there til this is over, there's no real need to get him to talk is there?"

Vick frowned, "There is, guys. I mean, we really need to know what the hell's going on. We've been stuck here with no communication for hours, and it seems like we may stay that way until someone comes to get us. I'd say it's pretty damn important that we find out whether the person who eventually finds us is more likely to be police, or another psycho in a gas mask."

I looked down at my left hand. I had to admit it was tempting. I could do it, couldn't I? This guy had tried to kill me. Hurting this animal would kind of be like justice. But the more honest I was with myself, the more it felt like revenge.

"I.. I could do it." I whispered.

"No." All four replied simultaneously. Amanda put her hand on my back, "It misses the point. We're going to get out of this, as better people than him."

"Then how do we get him to talk?"

Corellia looked at Vick with a sly side glance. "I think I can catch fly with honey and not vinegar."

Vick didn't like this. "What? No, no, you should have nothing do with that... murderer."

Corellia kissed Vick. "You trust me. He is murderer, but he is a man too. Do not worry for me, he is all tied down of tape. I think you boys like to see this too maybe?"

Corellia stood near the corner of the room, and removed the shirt from our captive's face. The bound man growled something angrily, but stopped short as he looked up. The flashlight had been turned to shine on Corellia, who had changed into an outfit there in storage: a black silk tummy-baring camisole, a tight, short skirt, and black heels. Her nipples showed through as obvious bumps in her top, and so much of her tan, flawless skin was showing that the imagination could not help but fill in every tiny blank. She was a vision of nubile sexuality, and played innocence to perfection.

"Hello there mister, am I a girl you would like to talk to?"

The man looked like he was trying to collect his thoughts. "Wh... What?"

Amanda, Vick, Maggie, and myself were all standing just a few feet behind our captive. Vick had the rifle in hand.

"I am Miss C. I work here in the building you are in. I hope you would tell me who you are and why you are here."

He seemed to be caught unguarded, "I am Remal."

"And why are you here, Remal?"

He paused. There was a long moment of silence, then Remal seemed to steel himself. The initial shock of her beauty had worn off, but he still could not look away. "Fuck you."

"I do not usually say fuck you to people like you do Remal. Even when I want them to fuck me." Corellia brought a hand up to touch her breast over her camisole. "Do you not want to talk to me?"

Remal was speechless.

"I am just a girl who would like to know about you, and why you are here. Is it okay if I stay here and talk to you?" Corellia stepped forward slowly. I saw her hike up her skirt a bit, just enough for me to see the tiniest bit of blue panties. I imagine the view was even better for Remal.

"I suppose that is fine, but I will not talk to you."

"That is a shame. I understand there are things you do not want to say. But I will ask you things, maybe some of them are okay for you to say to me. I do not want to make you unhappy." Then Corellia fully sat on Remal's lap, and let one shoulder strap of her camisole fall down from her shoulder.

"Yes, Miss C. I... Yes, you may ask, but do not expect many answers."

Corellia smiled, then pressed her palm against the crotch of his jumpsuit. "Where are you from, Remal?"

He choked out, "I am Qumari... I am from Adden, Qumar."

This surprised me. Qumar was a North African country currently in the news for undergoing a government-instituted genocide. The place was violent and unstable, but terrorism against western countries wasn't generally their thing. If anything, Qumari natives tended to seek sanctuary here.

"How many of your friends are here with you, Remal?" He did not reply. Corellia hiked her skirt up fully so that it revealed her bright blue satin bikini panties completely, then gently sat back down on his lap. "Tell me, what is it you want from us?" No reply. "Is there something you want from me?" she teased.

To our surprise, he grinned and blushed shyly. "We are not here because of you, Miss C."

She laughed. "That is too bad. So why are you here? What is going on?" Almost as an afterthought, she dropped her camisole down around her waist. One of Corellia's firm, naked breasts pressed up against Remal's chest and her hand wandered down again toward the bulge in his jumpsuit.

He gasped. "I ... I, I cannot tell you. I am sorry, Miss C."

"Am I not a girl you would like to talk to, Remal?" Corellia rubbed her crotch against his leg, up and down rhythmically.

God damn. I thought back to earlier this evening when I had become so uncomfortable for about five seconds from having an erection with my pants still on. This man was tightly taped down all over his body, and still fully dressed. Staring at Corellia, I managed to feel bad for the guy who earlier today had shot and stabbed me. I even heard Maggie and Amanda gasp a little.

Remal began to sweat profusely. "We are from the Qumari government!"

They were? That didn't make much sense to me, but I let her keep working her magic. Besides, I was becoming a little uncomfortable again, in a pants-related way, and was trying to discreetly adjust myself. Maggie noticed, and gave me a little knowing smile.

"And what is the big plan, Remal? You can tell me. Please?"

"I am sorry, I am very sorry, Miss C."

"So I'm not a girl you would like to talk to after all?" Corellia stood from his lap, acting hurt, and put her hands on her hips. Despite herself, it looked like Corellia's panties had formed a noticeable wet spot.

"No! No, it is not you Miss C."

She removed the camisole and skirt that were not really covering her at all any more anyway. She stepped toward us, in heels and blue panties, out of Remal's view. Corellia took Amanda by the hand and talked to her quietly as Remal struggled in frustration.

"Miss C? You do not have to go, I am sorry that I cannot say that. We can talk about other things, Miss C."

Corellia led Amanda by the hand into Remal's view in the corner of the room. Standing in front of the flashlight, it was the first time I got a good look at Amanda. First and foremost she looked petrified. Every muscle stood rigid in her little 5'3" body and her eyes were locked wide open, looking at the captive man in the chair before her. Secondly, she was as cute as a button made of kittens. Her slim form held up a slightly round face with large, hopeful eyes behind a pair of Buddy Holly glasses. She wore a tight pink baby T shirt under a thin yellow cotton shirt with shoulder straps, a pair of tiny corduroy shorts and flat canvas shoes. Her dark hair was tied up in a little bob in the back, with a pencil running through it. Her breasts seemed like they were B cups, but it was hard to tell under the second t shirt.

Corellia stood Amanda directly in front of herself, both the girls facing Remal. Corellia placed her chin on Amanda's shoulder. "Remal, this is my assistant, Miss A." From behind, Corellia moved her hands to cup Amanda's breasts. "Remal, is Miss A a girl you would like to talk to, since you do not want to talk to me?"

Remal's head rolled a bit, as he was hopelessly trying to fathom his situation. "No! Yes! I mean, it is not that, Miss C."

Still directly behind Amanda, with one hand Corellia continued rubbing one of Amanda's breasts, but with the other hand she began to rub Amanda's crotch over her shorts. "I cannot imagine a man who would not want to talk to Miss A, Remal. I want to talk to Miss A you see?."

Amanda tilted her head to the side toward Corellia and smiled a bit. Amanda began to lean back and relax against Corellia's nearly naked body.

"Oh fuck." I heard Maggie whisper under her breath.

Remal was enraptured and miserable. "I am Qumari. Uh thiteen, thirteen, there are thirteen of us here. We are from the Qumari government."

Corellia reached her right hand up under Amanda's shirt and removed her bra, then continued to pull up her shirt just enough to rub a nipple. As the bra fell, I noticed that it seemed padded, or perhaps a water bra. Her breasts really couldn't have been more than been A cups. Corellia's left hand then slipped into Amanda's shorts, and the little school girl gave a squeak of pleasure.

"Why is the Qumari government doing this, Remal?" Corellia was insistent.

Remal shifted repeatedly in his chair, trying hopelessly to rub himself off for some sort of release. It didn't work. I wondered if he would have preferred getting his fingers cut off as torture. I could sympathize; I had adjusted so my own dick was sitting straight up, making an unusual visit hanging out partially above the waistband of my pants but under my shirt. As I looked down Maggie stepped forward in front of me and rested back against me, much like Amanda was pressed against Corellia.