Chapter 2
Hand in hand they walked down the street, their hearts young and full of life. Even New Yorkers, who never look at one another as they pass on the sidewalks, turned to stare at the bright and youthful pair, so obviously excited and loving and eager. Oblivious of the rest of the world, Amber and Scott went their way, heads close as they chattered to one another, both of them looking up occasionally at the tall buildings which rose like canyon walls on both sides of the street. If it marked them for out-of-towners, they didn't mind. Not in the least. Their minds were on a pleasure yet to come, the moment when both of them would experience the totality of sex for the first time.
"Oh, God," Amber sighed, "I don't think I can wait, Scott, my deafest darling, I want to do it right here. Throw me down on the sidewalk and climb on me. Fuck me while the rest of the world walks by." She spoke in a light soft insistent voice, aimed for and received by his ears alone, and they were both red-faced with excitement and anticipation.
Right now the rest of the touring group was on a subway headed north. Radio City was the group's destination, now that lunch was out of the way, but Scott and Amber had no intention of sitting in a theater watching the Rockettes perform. And best of all, Mrs. Palmer wouldn't even be aware of their absence until she called the roll in the lobby at Radio City. By which time it would be too, too late.
"Oh, my God," Amber said, stopping short. Scott whirled and bounced back to where she stood on the sidewalk, an island in the sea of human traffic around them. "I almost forgot," she whispered into his ear. "Do you have anything, you know?"
"Like a rubber?" he whispered back, blushing. "No. My God, I forgot, too!"
"You'll have to get some," Amber said. "Look. There's a drugstore. Go in and buy a pack. Oh, don't be so embarrassed! We have to use something. I don't want to get knocked up."
"Okay," he said. "Are you coining with me?"
Amber shook her head. She was staring at a window display, plaster mannequins modeling some of the most beautiful lingerie she'd ever seen. She looked up at the store name, above the window. "Oh, I've heard of them," she said. "Listen, you go get the-you-and I'll run in her for a minute. Maybe I'll buy something very special. For us."
"I'll wait for you outside," he volunteered, then leaned down and kissed her. It was the first time she'd ever been kissed in broad daylight, on a very busy public street, and she wrapped her arm around his neck, gluing her mouth to his for a long time. It felt very exciting to kiss him here, with all these people walking and she could feel the hum of his lips, the rap-tap-tap of his heart which assured her that Scott was excited too. Oh, God, it was going to be so beautiful, she told herself. And it would be happening so soon.
The salesgirl was helpful, even if her nasal New York accent sounded funny to Amber's ears. "I'll try these on," Amber said, selecting three gowns which struck her as particularly luscious and sexy. There was no sense going into her first fuck as if it were something animalistic and crude. She would dress for beauty as well as pleasure.
She entered a small cubicle for changing and quickly took off her dress. She tried on all three gowns, removing her underwear before she put on the last one, a delicious negligee of black chiffon, sheer and wispy and wicked, in a delightful way. It felt like a cool breeze on her bare body and she gloated on her mirror image. The way her breasts showed in the transparent bodice, the way the chiffon bunched and spread, now showing, now hiding her legs, the patch of dark-gold hair in the cleft of her thighs. God, wouldn't Scott go crazy if he saw her in this? She was almost crazy with desire, seeing herself in it now. She had to have it.
Amber looked at the price tag and her heart almost stopped. A hundred and thirty dollars for something that amounted to little more than a gown of black tissue paper? Her heart sank. She couldn't afford it. No way. She looked up again, saw herself in the negligee, and she wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything material.
"I must," she told the mirror image. "It isn't right, but I simply must. For Scott and for me." She removed the gown and stood naked but for shoes and stocking, eyeing herself and the precious, expensive garment draped across her hands. "There's no other way," she said.
Amber rolled the black negligee into as small and tight a ball as she could manage and she stuffed it into her purse. Then she put on her bra and panties and dress and went outside, the other gowns in her hand. "I'm sorry," she told the salesgirl. "I really don't care for any of them."
"Uh-huh," the girl replied, gum snapping in her mouth. Amber smiled and turned, walking toward the door with as much presence of mind as she could manage. She'd never stolen anything before in her life, but it had to be done.
She opened the door and stepped onto the street. She looked up, then down, and saw Scott standing at a news vendor's stand. He was holding a copy of Screw, leafing through it with a started expression on his face. Amber took a step in his direction, and something heavy came down on her shoulder. Her heart descended to her feet and she gave one little cut-off cry before she found herself being roughly hauled back into the store.
"Let go of me!" she cried feebly, kicking, trying to resist. She looked up at the man who gripped her left arm with a fist of iron. He was a big man, cold-faced and beefy, a good foot taller than Amber's five-three, and he outweighed her by at least seventy pounds. He looked like a burly football player. There was contempt in his eyes as he stared down at her. "Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"To the security office. That's where we deal with your kind."
He led her to the rear of the store, opened a door, and pushed her inside. There was desk in the room, and another door at the far wall. A man rose from the desk as Amber entered. "Well," he said, coming around it, "you didn't get very far, did you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said in a small tight voice, clutching her purse. The man from the desk grabbed, jerking the purse from her in a quick rough motion. She tried to shout in protest but he was already opening her bag, removing, the stolen garment. "I, I-" she stammered.
"You don't know how it got there?" he asked sardonically. The other man closed the door with a loud noise. Amber looked back, then forward. The man holding the negligee was tall and slender, narrow of shoulders and hips. He had an almost feminine cast to his features, a softness she didn't like at all. His hair was long and wavy and he wore a flowered shirt with hip-hugger bells. "I'll tell you how it got there. You stole it. And you're in a lot of trouble, bitch." He went to the interior door and opened it. "Come with me."
Amber hesitated. The man who'd apprehended Amber on the street gave the girl a push from behind, and she went stumbling forward, through the door.
She found herself in a long, narrow chamber. On one wall, three overhead cameras angled slightly downward. On the other wall she was horrified to see three windows, each of them looking into one of the store's dressing cubicles. Oh, my God, she thought. There weren't any windows-it must be the mirror.
"See?" the slender man said. "When someone enters a changing room, a little buzzer rings at my desk and the camera clicks on. See for yourself."
One camera suddenly sported a glowing red light and Amber looked into the corresponding window. A woman, in her late twenties apparently, was entering the changing room on the other side of the wall. She was a cool-faced woman, with sharp rather attractive features, wearing a jumpsuit that fit tightly around her large breasts. In her hand were a pair of sweaters.
She put down her purse and the sweaters, then unzipped the front of her jumpsuit and stepped out of it. She wasn't wearing anything under the suit. Her tits were large and full and firm, with enormous brown nipples capping them, and her pubic hair was neatly shaven on the edges, so that only a dark hedge surrounded the line of her gash. She looked at herself in the mirror.
"Look at those jugs," said the football player type. "I'd like to get my hands on those tits."
"Maybe she'll steal something," the other man suggested.
"I fuckin' hope so," the first man leered. "Look at her tickling her titties, making those nipples stick out. She wants to see how they'll look in the sweaters. Mmm, baby-if you need any help, I'll suck 'em for a while."
Amber felt sick. Had these men been watching her, too? Oh, God, they must have, if they knew she'd taken the negligee. Had they made lewd remarks when she was naked in the changing room? So sick!
The woman slipped one of the sweaters down over her shoulders and smoothed it down her body. Her tits were loose and eye catching in the sweater, and her nipples did indeed punch out the clingy fabric. She wasn't satisfied. She cupped her breasts and made her fingers little pincers on the stiff teats until they were really erect. That was better, her smile seemed to say. Beaver showing below the hem of the sweater, she did a few model poses, then removed the sweater and tried on the other.
"Steal 'em, please!" the big man moaned. She put on her jumpsuit, zipped it up to her neck, then reconsidered. She slid the zipper down, midway into her cleavage, smiled, and went out, holding the sweaters in her hand.
"Can't win them all," the slender man observed. He turned to Amber. "We have you," he said. "I'm an eyewitness and we also have a video tape of you stealing the gown. Your next stop is jail, honey."
"Oh, no," Amber moaned. "You can't-my parents-my friends-"
"You're an out-of-towner," the slender man said. "I can tell by the way you talk. You sound like a fucking hillbilly. Waynesburg, Pennsylvania? Where the fuck is that? Do you know how much trouble it can be for an out-of-towner to get bail? How long it will be till your trial comes up? How much it's going to cost you for this little rip off? Ooohh, baby, you're in big trouble."
"She doesn't have to be," the other man put in. "She could make it up, couldn't she?"
"Maybe. You wanna make it up, kid? How old are you? Sixteen. Mmmmm. You look sixteen. All cute and innocent and blossomy. Like a little flower. Pretty little tits under those clothes. Furry twat. You're a natural blonde, too. I liked that. Take off your clothes."
"My-my clothes-"
"Take off your goddamn clothes," the big man said. He grabbed Amber from behind, seizing the collar of her dress. His fingers were strong, and he ripped downward, tearing the fabric. Amber screamed in a soft, lost voice as her dress tore and fell to the floor. She crouched, shamed to be here, wearing only her undies, in the presence of these awful, nasty men. The big man grabbed her again, pulling her erect. The slender man came close, his lips spread back to show a lot of pearly teeth.
"Nice," he said. "But these are in the way." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade knife. He flipped it, and the blade flew out, long and gleaming. "Hold still. I don't want to cut your tits off."
He worked the knife blade under the nylon of Amber's bra, the little strip that held the cups together, and he made a quick darting slash. The nylon sliced in two and the cups fell from her tits. They were bare, but only for a moment His hands replaced the bra and he squeezed her boobs viciously, twisting the tender flesh until the young girl screamed again. Her scream died when he cuffed her sharply on the cheek. "Knock it off," he commanded. "It hurts my ears. Listen, cunt-you don't have much choice. Either you go to jail, or you-" His voice dropped suggestively. "Or you don't go to jail. It's easy." He hummed, twisted her tits again. When his hands came away, the nipples were sore and stiff and there were awful, red pressure streaks on the soft white flesh of Amber's titties.
"Please," she whispered, "don't do anything to me."
"Shut up," the man behind her suggested. He grabbed her arms and backed her up against him. "Do it," he said. "The panties now. Cut the panties off her."
"Sure." And the switchblade did a little more work, slicing Amber's panties in two. She felt the tip of the knife for a moment, sharp and dangerous, on the smooth flesh at her hipbone, and she felt her stomach churning. That knife could cut her, as well as her clothing. Oh, God, she was gonna be sick, right here, right now. The ripped panties slid down her legs and she was naked except for shoes and stockings.
"What are you going to do? Please, no, don't! Don't do that! Oh, God, don't touch me there!"
The slender man looked up, grinning evilly. His finger was poised, its tip no more than an inch from Amber's twitching pussy. "Touch you where?" he asked. "Tell me where you don't want to be touched."
"My-my vagina."
He grabbed her chin and turned her face upward. His fingers were stiff and strong on her skin, and when he leaned in close, breathing in Amber's face, she wondered how she could ever have thought his features feminine. "Your cunt, cunt! Say cunt. Tell me not touch your fucking cunt."
"D-don't touch m-m-my cunt," Amber whispered. "Please."
"Fuck you. I'll touch any goddamned thing I want to touch. Like this." He grabbed her pussy and squeezed it, the same way he'd squeezed her breasts. Amber screamed helplessly and twisted in pain. Tears filled her eyes and there was a catch in her throat. She couldn't breathe, could only hack and cough and stand there, enduring it. The big man held her erect, her body braced against his. She lifted onto tiptoes as the agonizing pressure on her twat continued and seemed to increase. And then suddenly it was gone and she was settling back onto her flat feet. She breathed again, but she hurt. Everywhere.
Oh, God, how long had she been here? It seemed like an eternity, an eternity of nightmare and shame, but, she realized, it couldn't be more than twenty minutes at most. Where was Scott, Oh, if he were here, he wouldn't let them abuse her! He'd make them stop, he'd-
He'd play hell trying. The man who held her, the big one, was a hundred and eighty pounds of muscle, from crown to toes. He'd pound Scott into the ground with one hand. Scott would have more luck taking on a tank. And she had been caught stealing. What defense did she have? Oh, God, they could do anything they wanted and they would.
The slender man stepped back. He reached up the wall and turned one of the video tape cameras, angling it so that its lens was aimed at Amber instead of the two-way mirror. He flipped a button on the side of the camera and the red light flashed on. "I like to record these," he said lewdly. "They're more fun to watch than a late movie. Smile, cunt. You're on Candid Camera." And with that he unzipped his pants, dramatically. "I hope you're worth all the trouble you've put us to."
"Oh, my God, no, you can't-you can't-you don't know-I-I-" Amber struggled for words, and she struggled in the grip of the big man. Both battles were hopeless. His arms bound her where she stood, and her throat went bone dry when the slender man hauled out of his pants a long, thin cock. It looked like a snake, an incredibly long snake. All it lacked was a forked tongue flicking out.
"Like it?" he asked, stroking himself. His dick took shape as he fondled it, and he was hard within moments, long thin tool jutting out from his undone fly. She tried to guess its length. Nine inches? Ten inches? Nearly a foot of prick thrusting at her like a weapon. She felt revulsion boiling in her guts and it seemed to back up her gullet. There was a nasty taste at the top of her throat. She thought she was going to be sick, like she'd done the time Scott's cum oozed down her throat.
"Spread 'em, bitch." She dared not. The man karate chopped her pussy and she almost doubled up with pain. He worked his foot into the space between her legs and shoved one of her feet to the side. She grunted in resistance. He did the same to her other foot, and she stood in a spraddle, held up only by the strong grip of the big man, behind her. If not for him, she'd have fallen. She was off balance, her head spinning, her brain going alternately hot and cold, her heart skipping beats, her tummy full of butterflies and panic.
He leaned in, and the big man pulled on her. Amber felt herself being lifted slightly, her pussy rising toward the tip of the long pole that aimed itself in her direction. The slender man caught her by the hips and rubbed himself against her. His cock was hot and it felt fiery touching her belly. Oh, now she knew she was going to be sick!
"You ever see one this long before, little girl? It's twelve and a half inches from nuts to prong. I could be making porno films, with a dick like this one, but I don't wanna do that. I have more fun catching cute little shoplifters and teaching them that it's not nice to steal. The way I'm gonna teach you, now. Oh, baby, when I stick this up your pussy, the head of its gonna come out your mouth. That's how long I am, that's how long I'm gonna feel in your twat. Get ready, bitch, because you're gonna get it. Right NOW!"
And he steered his cock down, pushed it into Amber's dark-gold triangle of pubic hair. She screamed when it touched her cunt but she couldn't dance backward, out of its reach. The big man was blocking her from the real, his body an immovable barrier behind Amber. "Hold still," the slender man warned, "or I'll beat the living shit out of you."
She moaned and all the resistance left her. She hung limp in the big man's arms and she couldn't even cry out when the other guy worked the tip of his rod into her agonizingly tight cunt. I'm going to be raped, she thought. He's going to bust my cherry with his horrible cock. He's going to steal the gift I was saving for the man I love. Oh, God, if you really are up there in heaven, don't let him do it. Strike him dead before he rapes me. Help me, please, just this one time. I'll never ask for anything else. Ever again. Oh, help me, she prayed.
"Tight," the slender man said, working his knob in the dry flesh at the mouth of her tube. "But it's gonna be sweet." He fiddled some more. Amber almost wretched, but lacked the strength even to be sick. "Got it," the slender man grinned, and he thrust. With all his strength.
"AAAAIHEEE!"
Amber's scream was shrill and hideous. The slender man stopped in mid-fuck. "Oh, shit," he said to the other guy, "this one is a fucking cherry."
"You mean, she was a fucking cherry."
"Right on, brother," he agreed, and the stiff spear of his cock plunged into Amber's tender, violated pussy. She bucked as he stabbed past the rupture of her hymen, and then he was in her, deep, oh, God, deep, so deep, she'd never imagined that anything could get into her so deeply, not even when she'd been fantasizing about how it would feel to fuck Scott-she knew that cocks slipped into cunts, but she didn't know they slipped in so far.
Pain-she closed her eyes and still she could see stars exploding-it was a pain centered in her raped cunt, but it was spreading to every part of her body.
He slammed into her a little further, and the point of him tapped the mouth of her womb. Amber's eyes bulged and she felt suddenly cold all over.
Wetness in her pussy-blood? Virgins bled when they were busted. That pain could have been nothing else except the breaking of her cherry. God, so much wetness, as if he'd punctured a major artery with his cock.
Oh, God, she'd planned to lose her virginity in New York, but she hadn't planned to lose it like this! Blood dribbled from her ravished twat, his prick stabbed in. She couldn't handle the pain and the humiliation and the horror.
Amber sighed once and then she slumped heavily in the big man's arms. For the first time in her life she had passed out. Completely out. Her mind was numb and blank and her body beyond feeling.