She told this tale to ej, who told it to me. Now I share it with you.
I had just started work at the small branch office of a large bank in this southern city. Nancy, a friend of the family, had helped me get the job. She was 59 and at the time was about ready to retire. It was late on a Friday, and it was just minutes before closing time. The only people in the bank were Maria, the retired policewoman who worked as a security guard, Nancy, the manager, and myself. All women, as luck would have it. Nancy and I, the tellers, were doing our end of day count. The manager stood up from her desk and was headed to the door to lock up. She had the keys in her hand.
The three masked figures ran inside the bank and pushed the manager before them. One of them pointed a shotgun squarely at Maria's Face. Maria got caught with her right hand halfway to her holster and immediately raised both hands in surrender. The second bandit pointed a shotgun at Nancy and me and growled,
"STAND BACK! ASS AGAINST THE WALL, BITCHES!"
The third one had a shotgun to the manager's head. There were two alarm systems. Each teller had a foot-operated button in her enclosure. But the robbers had made us back away from them. The manager had a similar button that she could operate with her knee. But it was back at her desk, in the inner left panel. The robbers were all dressed in black. They wore wide coats and their faces were covered by ski masks. They wore another mask with a human face on top of the ski masks, so Maria had not noticed them until it was too late. All three bandits wore black gloves. They spoke in hoarse voices muffled by their ski masks. To this day I cannot say whether they were three average-built young men or three husky women.
The one aiming at Maria said,
"You, cop girl, undo your gun belt let it fall to the floor. Come over here."
Maria had a lot of experience in law enforcement and these people looked like professional bank robbers. She did as she was told. They made her lie on the floor face down, with her hands behind her head. The bandit kept aiming at her all the time. They must have thought she was the most dangerous to them. The other bandit made Nancy and I come around and lie on the floor face down at different angles from Maria.
Meanwhile, the third bandit grabbed the manager by her jacket collar and pointing the shotgun to her head, took her to the front door and made her lock it. Now we were trapped with these three! Not even a month ago, the bank executives had the bright idea of saving on cooling costs by having a reflective coating applied to all exterior glass surfaces. Although this helped cool down the bank, it also kept anyone on the outside from being able to look in. All they would see was a mirror surface. The manager ended up with us on the floor. Nancy was trembling and close to hysterics. One of the bandits spray-painted the lenses of the surveillance cameras, then systematically ripped off all the alarm wires at the manager's desk and teller stations, as well as the telephones and computer connections.
"Ladies," the one who seemed to be the leader said, "we are going to get more comfortable, cooperate and no one gets hurt." While that one covered us three, the other two devoted their attention to Maria. One aimed at her head while the other frisked her. The frisk turned up Marias hideaway gun in an ankle holster and the one frisking her whacked her in the head with her own hideaway gun.
"Up to tricks, cop girl?" He said. "Stand against the wall."
Maria stood up, holding her head, and did as she was told. We feared they would kill her for having kept the gun hidden.
"Now, take off the uniform!" she was ordered. Maria pretended she had not understood. The bandit simply aimed at her head and said, "Do it."
Maria slowly stepped out of her shoes, undid and dropped her pants, her clip-on tie, and then her shirt. She was wearing a bulletproof vest. "The vest, too." She undid the Velcro snaps and dropped it. "Now all the rest." The bandit said. "Come on, we want to see your olive-skin and your bush."
Maria took off the ribbed T-shirt, then she undid the front snap of her bra and took it off. She hesitated for a moment and stood there in white socks and panties, cupping her hands over her large breasts.
"I said all." The bandit said.
Maria lowered her panties, got them off one foot and then the other, and dropped them with the rest of her uniform. Then she pulled off one sock and dropped it on the pile of clothes. Then the other. She stood naked in front of the wall. An olive-skinned woman of some years over forty, going on plump, with large breasts about size 42, with large nipples, and large hips. Her black hair with white strands was done in a braid down to her lower back, and the tuft of black hair between her legs was laced with silver. She tried to cover her breasts with her left arm and the hair between her legs with her right hand. She looked smaller naked. Maybe because she was not wearing the armored vest. The bandit ordered her to the center of the room and had her squat, then kneel on the floor. Then they made her spread her legs until she was almost resting flat on the inside of her thighs, and they handcuffed her with her own cuffs. They made her put her face and breasts on the floor. It was an uncomfortable position out of which she could not stand up quickly. I also thought that she'd soon be getting cramps, all stretched out like that. I hoped they only wanted to humiliate her for not giving up the gun and she'd be the only one they'd make take her clothes off, but I was wrong.
ONE BY ONE,
THEY MADE ALL US GIRLS STAND,
IN FRONT OF THE WALL,
AND STRIP NAKED.
First the manager, then me, then Nancy. The manager, a woman who seemed to think herself superior because of her education and position, looked truly angry and mortified. She removed her high-heeled shoes, her jacket and her skirt. The so-called power suit of female executives. Then her smart white blouse. Then her black lace bra and pantyhose. She wore no panties. She stood there in her tanned, athletic, yuppie-ish body. They ordered her to take a kneeling, spread-legged position on the floor, but they did not tie her hands. Instead, the head bandit ordered,
"Grab your cheeks and spread them, boss lady."
Even in this dangerous situation, I could not help smiling to myself at the obvious mortification and humiliation of the manager. But then it was my turn. I have always liked to hurry a bad situation along, so I just stood in front of the wall and added my shoes, dress, brassiere, pantyhose, and panties to the growing pile of clothes. They even told me to slow down when I was too quick to take off my bra. They put me on the floor with the others but did not tie my hands, either. So now it was my turn to spread my cheeks. The place was beginning to smell of woman's vaginas and anuses spread open. Sort of like a girl's locker room without the smell of deodorant and soap. One bandit said,
"Don't you ladies wash? Smells like a fish market in here!" Which only added to our humiliation. Poor Nancy was the last one. She was now trembling and crying and carrying on saying,
"NO! No! I refuse! I won't do it! Take the money and go away! Go away!"
The bandits were losing patience because she would not undress. So I said, "Let me help her." And the head bandit replied,
"Ok, little girl, you too, boss girl, get grandma naked."
We had to calm Nancy down and with more or less force take off her blouse and bra. At this she started crying louder and trying to cover her large, droopy breasts, and we used the chance to get her skirt and slip down around her ankles. She began to grind her thighs together and we almost had to peel the panties off her, leaving her large hips and her gray-covered mound exposed. Then we just eased her out of her shoes and removed her girdle, stockings and garter belt. She was an attractive woman for 59, but bare naked, she looked vulnerable and embarrassed. With her drooping, stretch marked abdomen and wide hips full of rolls and dimples. Maybe it was because of the contrast with the lithe, trim, athletic body of the manager. Who nevertheless was as terrified as we all were. Me? I have always been Plain Jane next door. Although I am described as 'Cute.' We helped Nancy as gently as we could to the floor. The bandits had us make her kneel and then spread her legs. And put her face and breasts against the floor, just like Maria. They tied her hands behind her back with one of those plastic closure strips that do not open again when you lock them but have to be cut.
Then Nancy said "Let me use the bathroom, please." The bandits laughed,
"Uh, oh. Grandma's got to go." Nancy insisted, "Please, I am going to pee myself." She pleaded. It isn't my rug." One bandit said. The other just put a foot on the top of her ample behind, rocked her back and forth, and said, mocking like,
"Well you just go right there if you have to, beautiful. No one will mind."
The leader said to me, "you little girl, on the floor, grab and spread your butt, you know the exercise." I did as I was told.
(to be continued)
Last edited by Bare-Belly
on Thu Oct 24, 2013 7:04 pm, edited 6 times in total.