The Snob: Chapter 3

Unthinkably, Rosie had been kidnapped….


For about ten seconds, nobody spoke. There was the sound of panting, and a smell of young masculine  sweat. Rosie heard a voice say:

 

“Dominic…she’s stopped struggling. She’s given up. We’ve won!”

 

There was a deafening cheer from six young male throats. Bound hand and foot, a boy kneeling either side of her, arms wrapped round her legs, two more boys holding her arms, Rosie could only snarl impotent defiance.

 

Her underwear had been chosen for comfort and coolness under the uniform. The black brassiere and panties were too small to be anything but mere skin-tight ornaments, no more concealing than a bangle or bracelet would have been. Her uniform had not flattered her; in it, she had looked almost squat. In fact her legs were short and muscular, but shapely. A slim waist emphasised jutting breasts that rose and fell as she panted, as if making their own bid to escape the capturing, cupping brassiere.

 

The pale skin of her body, glistening with perspiration, was  a startling contrast to a face red with effort and fury and embarrassment. She still wore her heavy black work shoes and thick black knee length socks that, like a lot of nurses, she preferred to tights. The solid feel of her footwear made her feel a little less vulnerable. But not for long; a grinning blond boy was kneeling, tugging at her shoelaces… Rosie tried to stamp on his hand, but restrained as she was, it was hopeless. Her shoes went the way of her uniform, and then he managed to pull off her socks from under the ties without freeing her ankles. The soles of her slender feet tingled on the stone floor.

 

“Nice one, Steve,” Dominic said.

 

Barefoot, close to nudity, she looked much more vulnerable, yet also somehow transformed and – for fleeting moments – empowered. She was a goddess, sacrilegiously captured, who could slay with bolts of blue lightning from her eyes. Even Dominic faltered.

 

She sensed their indecision. “All right,” she said, trying to sound calm, in control, “let me go – now! – and I’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

 

“Dominic,” said the boy holding her right arm, “maybe we ought to…”

 

“Shut it, Chris!” But the assurance had gone from Dominic’s voice. She knew if she could build on his doubt, she was free.

 

“I swear, if you let me go now, I won’t –“

 

Wait! There were six of them. Four held her; Dominic stood in front of her. Where was the other one, the blond one called Steve who had stripped her of her footwear? He had to be behind her. What was he doing?

 

Then a hand was resting on her bottom. Once, on a ward, a junior doctor had reached under her dress and done the same thing; her back-elbow had winded him. But now she could only yell and swear, knowing her chance had gone, while Steve kept his hand there, defying her to do anything about it.

 

“Damn you. Damn you, you bastard!”

 

Dominic moved to stand right in front of her. He took a big Swiss army knife from his pocket, opened out the blade. He’s going to stab me, Rosie thought. She felt no fear, only a rage that she could not die fighting. She glared defiantly at him.

 

Instead of stabbing her, he lifted a shoulder strap of her bra and cut through it. He did the same again, and now there was only the horizontal strap to hold it in place. He threw the blade aside,  reached around behind her and put his hands on the clip.

 

“If you don’t keep quiet, and do as I say, I’ll undo this. I mean it.”

 

Any doubt had gone from his eyes.

 

  Rosie kept quiet. The mood had changed again; the boys were exultant. The situation had slipped away from her. The boy holding her right leg  moved a hand, casually, to the top of her inner thigh.

 

·                         *            *

 

 Paul glanced at the clock. Where was Rosie? By now she should have been home. He wanted her, he could feel the heat in himself. He grinned. When she got in, he would make love to her before she had even had time for a bath.

 

This relationship was so good! Life was opening up; the music, Rosie, everything falling into place. He couldn’t wait. Impatiently, he picked up his mobile phone.

 

·                         *                            *

 

 

When Rosie’s mobile rang, Dominic walked across and took it from the pocket of her uniform. Her hospital ID badge fell out of the pocket and he picked it up.

 

“Our guest is Staff Nurse Rosemary Jane Harvey.” Then he looked at the phone. “Somebody called Paul,” he said. He didn’t answer the call. It felt strange and wrong to hear him speak the name of her boyfriend.  

 

 “That’s the guy I am with. He’s a man, he is big and he is mean. Let me go now and I won’t tell him about this.”

 

““Let’s send this hard man a message to keep him quiet,” Dominic said. He was busy with the key pad of the phone. “How does this sound? Detained. Cant talk now, explain later. Xx. It’s on its way.” He looked at the list of messages. “You and this Paul text each other a lot, don’t you? Anything spicy, I wonder?”

 

“That phone is private! Leave it!” She wished fervently that she had deleted the messages she and Paul had exchanged, but it was too late now. Dominic read out the intimate things that she and her lover had texted, while the others whooped and laughed and Rosie thought she must die of embarrassment.

 

 “Seems lover boy has left a message,” Dominic said at last. He pushed buttons, and Paul’s recorded voice sounded. “Rosie, where are you? I feel as horny as hell! Get home now!”

 

 “Is that the hard man?” Dominic said. “He sounds like a jerk.” He imitated Paul’s working-class accent. “I feel as ‘orny as ‘ell! Get ‘ome now!” Rosie acknowledged inwardly that Dominic’s dismissal of Paul was justified; her boyfriend was in fact slender, aesthetic-looking, no way was he a fighter. She struggled again, hopeless as it was, intensely aware that outrage was making her body incredibly sensitive. The hands on her thigh and bum were causing an unwanted thrill of murky excitement as well as fury.

 

“He’s a lucky bastard though, isn’t he?” said another boy. The swearword sounded contrived spoken by his plummy accent. “He gets her every night!”

 

“No, he’s unlucky,” Dominic answered. “We’ve got her, he’s lost her, and he doesn’t even know it.” He dropped the phone carelessly and walked back to the group of figures. “Steve, get your phone out. Our trespasser here is going to be a media star! The whole world is going to see what happens to bolshy girls who think they can use our grounds as a cycle track!”

 

“They’re not your grounds! None of you kids belong in this town!”

 

Dominic put his hands on her waist. “They are ours. And so are you.”

 

 

 

 

© Hoodedpoet 2017
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2 Comments on "The Snob: Chapter 3"

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E-Griff
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There’s little I want to say after my comment on the earlier part, but I am reading them. 🙂

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