LUNCH TIME by Noillyrag

[esercito sconfitto]

NB The reader may find the following information useful. This story is based on events which took place somewhere in the United Kingdom during the mid-1970s. The details were described to me by a former bank employee who knew some of the people involved. Names and places have been changed.


LUNCH BREAK


“Hi!” Shirley greeted her two friends as she sat down to join them for the lunch break.
Carol and Christine smiled in response. “Hi! Did you hear about the excitement yesterday, the heist at the Southland branch?” Carol asked.
“Yes, I noticed a report in today’s post” replied Shirley. “Quite dramatic by all accounts; poor girls, must have been scary”
“I heard they were made to strip” claimed Christine.
“That’ll get the boys excited” said Carol, taking another sip of coffee.
The three secretaries were on their midday break and as usual had met up in the staff restaurant at the headquarters of the Grindley’s Bank to exchange gossip. Today’s hot topic was obviously going to be yesterday’s raid on the branch at Southland; an event which was largely kept out of the tabloids to curtail would be imitators.
“What did the report say, Shirley?” asked Christine in a low voice “you must have read it.”
“Well I had a glance at it. Seems the robbers were waiting for the staff as they arrived in the morning. They were then overpowered and tied up. Two of the younger tellers were forced to strip to their bra and knickers, probably for no other reason than to amuse the robbers” Shirley replied.
“Oh, how awful!” exclaimed Christine They must have felt terribly embarrassed taking their clothes off, especially in front of their colleagues.”
“It’s not much fun” replied Shirley “but I must say it does turn you on. After it happened to me I had a really lovely time with my boyfriend.”
“You mean you were actually stripped in a hold up?” exclaimed Christine in excitement “What happened? Do tell us.”
“Well, a couple of years ago my boss sent me to visit the branch at Shelton to discuss security with the local manager. Shelton is a small town as you know and the bank had about ten staff at the time. It managed the payroll for the nearby factories, so on Fridays there was a lot of cash on the premises, something the robbers were obviously aware of.”
“Shelton? I believe there was something in the national press about it. I remember the cheeky headline: ‘Police Hunt Zipper Gang’ said Carol “Did they catch the people responsible?”
“No” replied Shirley “and the Southland job probably means they are still active.”
“You believe it is the same gang then?” asked Carol
“I’m sure of it. Same MO” Shirley replied.
“So what happened then?” asked Christine eagerly “tell us all the juicy bits.”
“Well, as I remember it was about half past two and I was in the manager’s office discussing security issues and taking notes when we heard a commotion outside. Then suddenly the door of the office burst open and a man in a mask appeared brandishing a sawn off shotgun. He grabbed the manager by the scruff of his neck and forcibly yanked him out of his chair and hurled him across the desk onto the floor. Stunned, the manager lay helpless to receive a kick from the bandit.
“Get up! Get out there” he ordered, throwing him through the doorway “take your trousers off and lie over there” he pointed to the rear of the bank where other male members of staff were stripping to their underpants.
“You!” he shouted at me “Get out here!” I stood up and ran towards him, placing my hands behind my head as I did so. The robber hadn’t told me to do so but I suppose I had been watching too many bank heist films and that’s what seemed to happen. “Stand over there.” He pointed towards a group of secretaries and female tellers who were standing together in a scene of utter compliance, completely terrified and subdued with their hands behind their heads.
Suddenly, the security door to the tellers’ cash area was pulled open from within. “Right, you: get over there!” The shouted command came from behind the counter where the robbers had been forcing the tellers to empty their cash drawers. One of the tellers – a small pretty blonde girl whom everyone liked – emerged from behind the counter with her hands firmly clasped behind her head. She was red faced and flustered with humiliation as she followed the pointed finger to join our group. She was obviously terribly embarrassed because the robbers had made the tellers behind the counter remove their shoes and their smart uniform skirts. The hapless teller ran towards us in her stockinged feet with her lacy white mini slip prominently on display. The other two tellers were now made to run towards the vault to retrieve the cash holdings. We could see them filling the robbers’ bags with bundles of notes and receiving an occasional playful slap on their bottoms to speed them up. My stomach churned as I knew it was only a question of time before the gunmen realised we were still fully dressed and I started to squirm as the gunman guarding us began to eye us up and down.
“What were you wearing at the time by the way, can you remember?” asked Carol excitedly.
“I was wearing a smart business suit which I had bought only the week before; it was very similar to the uniforms which the tellers wear. I was rather proud of it- it was sober grey with a slim line skirt which finished above the knee. It looked rather sexy – or so my boss was always telling me! The two ladies with me- one was the office manageress – were wearing dresses. The tellers wore the bank’s uniform of dark blue jacket and skirt with a white blouse. They were very smart – designed by a famous French couturier, or so I was told.
“Go on! So there you were, standing with your hands behind your head…” Christine cried excitedly.
“I was absolutely petrified” Shirley explained “The gunman who was guarding us was staring at the skirtless teller who had joined us after clearing her till. She was lying face down on the floor with her hands behind her head; her slip had ridden up to expose her stocking tops. The robber reached down and lifted the edge of her slip to expose the poor girl’s knickers. Just then the two flustered tellers who had been emptying the vault ran over to join their colleague on the floor where the gunman adjusted their clothing so that the three tellers were left lying face down on the floor with their knickers on display.
“Oh, how awful” exclaimed Carol “especially for you watching all this, wondering when your turn would come.”
“Yes, I was wondering what was going to happen next. I do know I was about to pee my pants.” replied Shirley “Then the robber came over to me. He stared right into my eyes. It was strangely a very sexy moment. He then ran his gloved finger around inside the waistband of my skirt, pausing to twang the elastic of my knickers. I could swear he was smiling at me behind his mask. Then he moved away to study the two office staff and the tellers who had been on coffee break when the holdup started. He stepped behind them and slid down the zip at the back of their dresses and the zips on the tellers’ skirts. He then whispered ‘Take them off’ or something like that so the office manageress and her secretary stepped out of their dresses and the tellers removed their skirts, to join the tellers already on the floor of the bank. He then turned back to me and began to whisper in my ear.”
“What was he saying?” asked Carol, leaning forward eagerly.
“Well, you can guess. He wanted to know what colour knickers I was wearing.”
“And did you tell him?”
“I really didn’t have much choice, did I? So I told him.”
“What did he do then?”
“He said he liked white knickers and asked if he could have them.”
“You’re joking!” Carol was growing quite excited.
“No, that was exactly what happened. I was very frightened but also very aroused by this time. Standing helpless with your hands behind your head telling a robber the colour of your knickers is a real turn on, I can assure you, especially as the robber was running his fingers around inside my skirt again while he was talking to me. It was also very embarrassing knowing my colleagues were watching this sod humiliate me.”
“Go on, what happened next?” panted Carol.
“I was hoping that the gang would hurry up and leave, but they were too busy stacking their bags with the loot. Anyway, the robber was now moving his hand gently over my boobs, then down around my bum, tracing the line of my knickers. Christ, it was a turn on! Then I felt him slowly pull down the zip at the back of my skirt and unhook the catch at the top. I could feel my skirt loose on my hips as he continued to run his fingers around the waistband and eventually it dropped around my ankles and I was left in my mini slip.
“Oh My God!” gasped Christine.
“Quite. Brother, was I embarrassed.”
“Bet you were”
“Then I felt his warm breath on my ear as he whispered ‘Take off your tights!””
Christine took a sharp breath “Oooo!”
“So I hiked up my slip and thumbed the waist band of my tights and pushed them down to my ankles. I stepped out of my shoes and pulled the tights free and left them in a pile on the floor with my skirt. The robber whispered ‘Hands back behind your head’ so I resumed the ‘teller in peril’ pose. My bare feet making me feel even more vulnerable. Then the robber knelt on his knee in front of me, placing his gun on the ground. He began to finger the lace of my slip, and then moved his hands up and down my bare legs. It slowly dawned on me what he intended to do. I had been puzzled why he had ordered me to remove my tights instead of my knickers: after all, if he had told me to take my knickers off I would have had to remove my tights anyway. I now realised he wanted to take my knickers off. I suppose that must have been his ‘thing’: taking a pretty girl’s knickers down in front of her colleagues. Anyway, to continue the story, he then moved his hands gently further up my legs until I could feel his fingers touching the fabric of my underwear which was pretty damp by now. Slowly, very slowly, he began to pull them down, finally lifting each leg in turn so he could remove my knickers completely.”
Carol broke the silence “That sounded really- you know- kinky!”
“It was. I re-enacted the scene later with my boyfriend and as I said we had a really lovely time.
“What did he do next?” asked Carol.
“Well, nothing really. As the gunman was putting my knickers in his pocket, the gang leader shouted that it was time to leave and they all disappeared, leaving us to sort ourselves out. We called the police and got dressed before they arrived on the scene. The interviews afterwards were a bit embarrassing going into all the details of what happened. But we were all given special leave and a bonus so that was something, I guess. But that wasn’t the end of it. A week or so later I received a package which had been sent to me via the Shelton branch. I opened it and found a freshly purchased pack of three white cotton knickers from my favourite shop and a red rose together with a card with the single word Thanks! written on it. The knickers were exactly the same type and size I was wearing the day of the robbery. So I can guess who sent them to me!”
“Did you show them to the police?”
“No, I didn’t. If I had they would have kept them as evidence. No, they were a present from my robber who gave me a very exciting time. So, whenever I put on a pair I can think of him. In fact, I am wearing a pair right now.”
“Coooool…” whispered Christine.
“Right. And sometimes, when I am alone in bed at night, I relive the moment when he gently lifted my feet to retrieve my knickers and I think to myself “just imagine, there’s a guy out there somewhere who is probably thinking of me and playing with a pair of my stolen knickers right now. I find it really sexy to think about that.”

After lunch, Shirley read the report of the Southland heist again. She particularly liked the section where one of the young tellers described how her knickers were removed by one of the gunmen. I wonder if she will receive a package shortly, Shirley mused. Perhaps I shall ask her: we can compared notes