When she came to London years ago, Emma was a good-looking girl, plenty of boyfriends until she met Paulo 20 years ago. He was good-looking, always smartly dressed, kind to his mother and had a cat. A perfect partner. He loved her curvy figure and was entranced by her eyes and full-lipped mouth and perfect white teeth. He had been a salesman for a computer company back then before he started his own business, travelling frequently. It soon started paying well. He was always generous with his money, buying her lots of lovely things from his trips away. Paolo was a passionate lover in bed and as far as she could tell, he never had affairs other women, at least not when he was at home in London. They had a spacious house near Windsor, with a company office in West London. His business took him all over Europe and the Middle East.
For years Emma was convinced he was dealing software and data worldwide. He was frequently away from home working. Sometimes he would bring business associates and clients home for dinner or drinks. Always men, often from abroad. Then she discovered by accident that his business was nothing to do with computing. Paolo was dealing in weapons; guns, explosives, ammunition and military equipment to criminals, drug dealers and gangs. Emma became anxious about Paulo's dealings with the crooked, ruthless and desperate characters. She could tell Paulo was uneasy about some of his clients. A routine call one morning from the Metropolitan Police Anti-Terrorist branch made her feel very unsettled. Only days later a brush with one of Paulo's customers, a gang of drug dealers, plus some veiled threats left her trembling. she couldn't take any more. After a blazing row with Paolo she'd had enough and left him.
At 51 she had fleshed out a bit, buxom with broad hips but still a small waist from working out at the gym. Her hair had developed flecks of grey which she hid with a dark auburn tint. Natural curls and waves created a youthful look around her mainly unlined face. Slight bags under the eyes, fine lines at the corners, and little jowls on her jawline told of her true half-century age. She was still a good-looking woman. She had separated from Paulo just a couple of months ago after a rocky couple of decades. He paid the rent on her new flat in a very smart part of Highgate, a refurbished 1930s block of luxury apartments and was still generous with her allowance. Dressed for a shopping trip to town that morning, Emma had put on a white blouse and a blue pinstripe suit skirt. She rarely wore stockings or tights. She was standing at the kitchen sink looking out over the tiny park across the road when the doorbell rang. She put down the cafetiere she was washing, wiped her hands on the little blue towel, and went to the door. Three young men stood outside, one stepped forward saying, "Hello, Mrs Matzucci, we've come from Andy".
Andy had been her special man friend since she walked out on Paulo. He was sweet and caring, a proper businessman with a proper business fitting designer kitchens.
"I'm Gerry. We've come about the kitchen".
Only the previous night Andy and Emma had discussed him giving her a new fitted kitchen with the latest appliances. Emma hadn't expected him to act so quickly. She smiled, flushing slightly, remembering the things they had done to each other in her bedroom last night.
"Come on in. The kitchen's this way". Gerry and the three young men followed along the carpeted corridor. In the kitchen she turned to face them, waving around at the slightly dated white units. "I want glossy white everywhere, white sintered work tops, built-in appliances, Qwooker tap, American fridge, SMEG range, espresso, dishwasher, recycling bins, breakfast bar and better lighting. What can you do for me?"
Gerry stepped to face her as she leant against the counter top looking around looking as if he were measuring it.
He raised his right hand out and placed it on her right breast and squeezed.
Shocked, she slapped his hand off and stepped away. "What do you think you're doing?"
As she moved backwards she felt her upper arms grabbed and held behind her by the other two men. Gerry took a pace forwards and put both his hands on her breasts, hooked his fingers under the top button of her blouse and tore it open, the buttons flew across the kitchen. Emma gasped in shock, eyes wide, unbelieving. Pulling the blouse down over her shoulders he revealed her white Bravissimo bra. Emma opened her mouth to scream in anger and fear. Instantly a hard palm slapped across it and shut off the sound.
Gerry pulled the straps of the bra right down over her shoulders, trapping her arms. The bra cups flipped one after the other across her nipples. She writhed and kicked out, her Repetto city pumps connecting with a tall stool and Gerry's shin.
"Get her legs, get her shoes off", he yelled swinging a sharp smack across her face, Surprised and scared she could only stammer, "Stop, please, stop! No! Let me go! What are you doing?"
"Hold her!" Gerry told Tommy and Flynn. Between them they had her wrists and elbows locked, pulled away from her sides. Gerry moved between the men, behind the sobbing woman, whimpering in fear and pain from the slap, the wrist-locks, the shock, humiliation and cold fear. Pressing against her buttocks he reached round and pulled down the torn blouse and the bra from behind her. Without the bra's support her breasts drooped slightly
and he grabbed and squeezed them, kneading, pressing, rolling the soft, heavy flesh. He pinched both nipples in his roving hands. Emma was gasping and sobbing as her nipples stiffened under Gerry's hands.
Holding, pulling, rubbing and fondling her left breast he reached down with his right hand, past her buttocks, up under the hem of her skirt onto her white M&S panties, squeezing, sliding his palm round and down He pushed his hand back and forth forwards between her thighs over the fabric, pressing her vulva, clitoris and anus. His fingers brushed the hairs beside her pantie gusset. With their free hands, Tommy and Flynn lifted her skirt to watch Gerry's fingers circling her clitoris from behind. Tommy reached under the skirt across the gentle swell of her belly to fondle her fleshy mons through the panties, sliding fingers over and over again across the white cotton that covered the slit.
Gerry moved his hand up the panties, up over her back and hips then down over the warm buttocks to slide inside the waistband. He squeezed her soft round fleshy buttocks again and then moved down the smooth warm valley between them, reaching forward and down to the soft, loose lips of her vulva. His fingers brushed over and past her little anus and found the lip of her vagina's opening. He needed to bend further to get fingers inside her and left her breasts to Fynn and Tommy. They continued mauling her, the breasts, nipples, neck, mouth, hair, and belly, jiggling and squeezing the helpless woman's body. Gerry had two fingers inside her now, her panties pulled half way down her thighs. He could feel the lubrication Emma was powerless to stop.
Then his moistened middle finger moved back to gently circle and press her anus passing slowly and firmly into her. She gasped, stiffening her body as Gerry fingered knuckle-deep into her anus. His thumb slid into her vagina and he played her back and forth while the others worked on her upper body. "Bedroom", said Gerry. Flynn pulled off her skirt and panties and threw them to the floor to join her shoes. The three heaved and dragged the helpless wretched woman down the corridor and threw her on the king size bed. Flynn and Tommy seized her legs holding them to her shoulders. She was completely exposed. Gerry held her down, both her arms outstretched. Tommy fingered her anus, Charlie pushed three fingers into her vagina. They pushed fingers furiously in and out of the spread woman. Emma panted, gasped, moaned, sobbed and wept, begging them to stop. The three, still fully dressed, opened their flies to expose their erections.
Gerry left off mauling her breasts, took a reel of duct tape from his jacket pocket. Emma watched her eyes wide in panic as he pulled a foot long strip and bound her left wrist to the other. Another strip, longer this time, taped her wrists and arms to the fancy brass bedhead.
