~While I struggled to control my urges towards my gorgeous future stepsister, Raven was engaged in a little project of her own. Here's part of the letter Cindy eventually got that explained it...~
Dear Gang,
Hey bitches, how they hanging? Miss my big strap-on dick yet? Guess it's my turn to fill out one of these stupid letters, but you all know how much I hate writing, so let me keep it simple. While you all went off to such exotic locations as Greece and California, I'm still stuck here in this dump of a town. But it's not all bad. I found something to keep me occupied. Or should I say someone.
As you know, I got a job at Sale-Mart to earn some cash for the summer. That video equipment to shoot my first porno with won't grow on trees. I'm working in the women's clothing department. The job sucks, but that goes without saying. However, I did manage to squeeze some fringe benefits out of it.
I fitted an old purse of mine up so my camcorder would fit inside and cut a hole for the lens to stick out. Then I wedged it under the bench in the changing room. The purse is black, so you can't see it from the entrance when you come in, but it shoots anything that goes on in there perfectly. Needless to say, I've been getting some very hot footage of young ladies dressing and undressing. I figured if I could get an hour or two of that, I could sell it on the Net, not to mention feed my endless desire for hot pussy to jill off to.
The plan was going gangbusters for two days until that girl walked into my life. More specifically, she walked into my department. I noticed her the minute she crossed the aisle into my section. I'd guess she was a year or two younger than me, wearing a black T-shirt, black over-sized pants, and black boots. Her scalp showed through a crewcut that made her pale face stand out even more. She had heavy mascara around her piercing blue eyes and a ring in her left nostril. In other words, she looked a lot like me on my bad days. But I have bigger tits. Seriously, this girl was stacked like an ironing board. But she caught my eyes, because when she bent over to look at a dress, I could see a red spider tattooed on the small of her back. You know what back tattoos do to me.
I was supposed to be re-stocking the plaid skirts, but as she walked by, I called out, "Nice tat."
The girl looked at me with those big blue eyes and said, "I didn't ask."
My boss wasn't around, so I just shrugged and said, "Well, fuck you, too."
"I'd need a few drinks in me first, bitch." She walked away, her hips swaying and giving me a nice view of her ass.
I think you know me well enough that I don't have to tell you what that little exchange did for me. I almost dropped my pants and finger-fucked myself right there. But I decided to wait, because she picked up a pair of jeans and headed into the changing room.
I busied myself arranging the skirts, all the while thinking about that girl stripping in that little room, and my camcorder catching every bit of it on tape. I couldn't wait to see what other tattoos lay hidden under those clothes.
But less than a minute later, the curtain of the changing room slid open and the girl leaned out. "Excuse me, could you help me with something?"
I rolled my eyes and walked as slowly as I could to her. After the grief she put me through, I didn't want to look too eager. The girl had a pile of clothes on the bench inside the room, and I was about to ask if she needed help. But my tone changed when I saw what was in her hand. It was my purse with the camcorder in it. She held it far enough back so only I could see it, and took a step back when I approached.
"Please, step inside. I think this will take a while."
I frowned. "What is this? Where did that come from?"
"I think you know. Now get in here. Or I'll take this to your supervisor, instead."
I don't like being ordered around. I prefer doing the ordering. But we both knew she had the upper hand, so I just said, "Certainly, ma'am" and stepped inside.
The girl drew the curtain shut and held the camcorder up higher. "I assume this is yours?"
"Never seen it before," I said. "Did you bring it in here?"
"Don't give me that, bitch. Unless you want me to CSI this motherfucker and get your fingerprints all over it."
I folded my arms and leaned against the wall of the change room. "Fine. What if I say it is mine? Go ahead. Tell my boss. I didn't want this stupid job in the first place."
The girl pushed the button that ejected the tape. She held it between thumb and forefinger and waved it in front of my face. "And what if I take this to the cops instead? You think the ladies on this tape won't mind? You know how many laws you broke? Unless the idea of getting gangbanged in a prison cell for the next six months doesn't bother you. I'm guessing you'd probably like it."
I could see I wasn't going to bluff my way out of this, so I just rolled my eyes. "Fine. You got me. I'm scared. Get to the point. Whadda you want?"
She set the camcorder down in a corner of the change room. "Get up on that bench."
"What?"
"You heard me. I said, get up here on that bench." She was adjusting the camcorder so it aimed at the bench you set your clothes on in the room. "You wanted to tape something. I'll give you something better than girls stripping off their undies."
I held up my hands. "Look, I don't know what kinda--"
The girl reached out and grabbed a tuft of my red-and-pink streaked hair. She yanked me over to the bench with it, almost knocking me over. "I said, get over there, bitch. Stand on the bench and take off that top. Now."
I don't know why I didn't haul off and rip that bitch a new hole right then and there. Oh, yes, I do. I liked it. For some reason, the way she treated me made me wet between my legs. Instead of punching her, I found myself standing up on the bench and facing her while I unbuttoned the green Sale-Mart jacket and dropped it on the floor.
The girl looked up at me with her arms folded on her chest. "All of it. I wanna see tits in ten seconds."
I unbuttoned my store-issued green shirt as fast as I could, thankful that I hadn't worn a bra that day, figuring my jacket would cover my hard nipples. And they were hard.
I opened my shirt to show off my breasts, the girl nodded. "Nice. I like your tats, too."
"Thanks."
She glared up at me. "I didn't say you could speak, bitch."
The girl had me at her mercy, and she knew it. She leaned forward and cupped one of my boobs in each hand, bouncing them up and down. Watching and feeling them jiggle sent shivers down my body into my panties.
She took hold of my nipple rings and pulled them out so hard and far that I almost fell over. The pain made me squeak with pain and pleasure.
"Nice," the girl said. "I would've gone with gold rings myself, though."
She let go of one nipple to pick up a pants hanger, one of those that have the clips on the bottom. She hooked one nipple-ring onto one of the hooks and tugged. It got another squeak out of me, but I cut it short that time to keep from giving her the satisfaction. When she hooked the other nipple-ring onto the second hook and pulled it tight, I tried to stifle the grunt of pain, but it came out as a moan. She raised the hanger and hung it from a hook on the wall, leaving me standing awkwardly on the bench with my boobs dangling from the hanger like a leash.
"Now for the pants. Hurry it up. Let's see that cunt."
I unbuckled my pants and let them slide down to my ankles. Unfortunately, I had worn panties. I had to strip them down so she could see my pussy. I knew she couldn't help noticing the sheen of wetness on the red-haired lips. The air filled with the musk of my lust, and the smell of it turned me on even more.
"You really should shave." The girl reached up to push my legs open wider. With my thighs open, she jammed two fingers up between my legs. I groaned, clamped my thighs together, and almost fell off the bench. I reached out to brace my hands on the walls. The girl kept fucking me with her index and middle fingers as she glared up at me.
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