I've worked in retail ever since I left school. My mother gave me a recommendation to a friend of hers who runs a rather classy boutique and she hired and subsequently trained me. I'm quite a good salesgirl now.
I've just turned twenty and I'm still working in that boutique. I enjoy the job and I get a good commission. I find it rewarding to be able to advise people on what things they should get, letting them know what things suit them and, more importantly, what things don't.
I had one customer come in and try on a nice tan outfit. It was a classy and expensive outfit and on the right person it would look sensational. She wasn't the right person and it made her look a frump. I advised her not to get the outfit and she didn't, finally leaving without getting anything. No commission for me. Still, I suspected that she'd be back so I went looking for the right outfit for her.
She did return, probably because we were the best place in the mall and she wanted to say she brought from us. I greeted her when she came in and told her I had just the outfit for her. She tried it on and it suited her to perfection. She finished up buying it (hullo commission) and she's been a steady customer ever since, always making sure that I serve her. (More commissions for me.)
There are bad days, of course, and bad customers. We had one today. A real pig of a woman. She got shuffled over to me and I put up with her abuse and eventually sold her a dress that made her look like a washed out hag. I honestly advised against it but she wasn't taking any advice from a girl barely out of school.
(There was a funny side to that sale. A few days later another customer came in and wanted the same outfit. Her, it suited very nicely, and I told her so. We got talking and she mentioned that it was her dress for her daughter's wedding. I mentioned the other woman who'd brought the same outfit for a wedding and it turned out she knew her and it was for the same wedding. There was no love lost between the two women, that was plain to see.
I asked if she wanted to change the outfit and she said no, but she would buy another outfit, which she did. I heard later that she wore the first outfit to the wedding rehearsal, a rehearsal that Mrs Nasty also attended. This left Mrs Nasty in the unenviable position of having to frantically run around for a new outfit only a day or so before the wedding or to wear the outfit she already had and have people comment that Mrs Nice wore that exact same dress to the rehearsal. Karma is a wonderful thing.)
Anyway, I was talking about my current bad day. When it was time for me to take a break I decided to go to the local coffee shop for my drink. I wasn't staying in the shop where I could be dragged out to serve someone.
So there I was, tucked up in a booth at the back of the place when I heard my named mentioned. Well, I assumed it was my name, so I naturally listened.
"What do you think of Susanna?" asked voice one.
"Which one? I know two," replied voice two.
"The one that works in Bev's Boutique," came the clarification, and yes, that was me.
"Very beddable," was voice two's opinion.
Flattering, I suppose, but I'd rather they didn't discuss me in that fashion.
"I think so, too," agreed voice one. "I've decided to do something about it."
"Dream on. What makes you think that she'd look at you?"
Dream on, was right. I'd only had a couple of intimate boyfriends and reserved the right to be rather choosey.
"It's not a case of dreaming but a case of taking direct action. Did you hear about old man Jenkins?"
"What about old man Jenkins. I heard he died, if that's what you mean."
"It is, and his heirs are all arguing about the estate. Until it's settled the place is sitting empty. The lawyers hired me to keep the lawns mowed and the gardens in order. I have the run of the place. Very quiet those back gardens."
"That's nice but what's that got to do with the price of fish or Susanna?"
"Nothing to do with the price of fish but Susanna walks down the lane behind the place each night when she goes home from work. Time it right and we can hustle her into the back yard before she knows what's going on. Once that's accomplished it's get closer acquainted time."
"And if she complains to the cops? We'd be in deep shit."
"Oh, come on. She's not going to admit that a couple of boys jumped her and had some fun. She'll keep quiet and as long as we stay out of her road she won't inflict any bodily harm on us?"
"Come again?"
"Didn't you hear about her encounter with Mick? He tried to strong arm her while on a date. She got away but the next day she walked up to him and kicked him in the balls. Like I said, we stay out of her way until she cools down."
I smiled remembering Mick's reaction. He stayed well away from me after that. I quietly seethed over these two morons, however making a mental note to be careful passing the Jenkins' place.
A few minutes later the boys got up to leave and I risked a quick peek to see who they were. Brendan and Roger, both boys I'd never dated. Not that there was anything wrong with them. I was just that they weren't really my type. They were both ex-football players, big strong young men who had, it seemed, a predilection for rape.
Back in the boutique I got on with my day while musing over what I'd heard. One thing was for sure. Before I went traipsing down the back lane on the way home I'd be checking to make sure those two creeps weren't around. If I spotted them in the lane or even somewhere in my vicinity I'd take the longer way home.
The irritating thing about the whole deal was that I found myself wondering what if they did catch me unawares. Would they be rough? Gentle? Gag me? Keep me silent how if not gagging? Would they tie me up? Strip me completely or just take off my panties? How would they want to do it? Would it only be one of them or both, once each? Or possibly a couple of times by both of them? My mind was running in little circles as different possibilities came to me.
Not that I wanted any of these possibilities. It was just that I had an over-active imagination and those two idiots had triggered it.
I didn't even bother about taking the short way home that evening, just taking the long way and grumping about idiots with hot pants. I did the same for the next couple of days but finally said the hell with it and took the short cut. That didn't mean I didn't take precautions. I checked that the lane was clear and the boys weren't around, and then walked briskly home with no problems, making sure I walked on the side away from the Jenkins' place. I was working on the assumption that if I saw the Jenkins' gate open I could take of running and they'd be struggling to catch me quietly.
There was just one little detail that I didn't take into account, mainly because I didn't know it. Brendan's place was on the opposite side of the lane to the Jenkins' place, which was probably part of the reason he got the gardening gig. So there I was a few days later, walking briskly down the lane and keeping one eye on the Jenkins' gate, when a gate opened right next to me and I was grabbed and hustled the few paces to the Jenkins' place and pushed through the gate.
I opened my mouth to scream and one of them poked me in the ribs, causing me to gasp and lose my breath. I wasn't punched, just poked in that ticklish spot at the base of the ribs and that was it as far as screaming went.
