For Dinah this idea was quite natural – to celebrate her husband’s return from a business trip with a special treat: pancakes with caviar. It was the very beginning of Shrovetide, besides, Andrey adored her pancakes – thin, crisp, a little crunchy at the sides. It was her grandmother’s traditional recipe, one of those that are passed down from one woman to another, those where everything depends on getting every little thing right.
It was Saturday, Dinah relaxed and thus slept in; once she opened her eyes and glanced at the clock, she cursed. She still had some time, but she needed to hurry, especially since she still wanted to stop at the hairdresser’s – they had invented a swell new hairdo for her. Thus her plan was to jump out of bed, to make herself presentable, to grab a bite, to prepare the dough for the pancakes, to rush to Svetlana the hairdresser’s and then home to quickly make the pancakes in time for the arrival of her dear husband. Once she had completed the first stage, all that she needed was to stick to the rest of the plan…
“Damn it!” she swore. “How can you be so disorganized, girl?” There was no caviar in the fridge. “Imagine, you’ve bought everything except the main ingredient! It is actually Svetlana’s fault, she called me at the most inappropriate moment. I did mean to pick up a tin at the check-out counter, and she got me distracted. A new hairdo, my foot! Why can she never make a decision? And she is supposed to, for she is a professional!” Dinah was really frustrated. “So, what am I to do now?” She glanced at her watch. “I guess, I will have to rush. Serving my hubby pancakes with jam, on the day of his arrival, is not such a great idea.” She hurried to get dressed for her shopping. She grabbed a selection of random clothes, donned a short jacket on top, snatched a bag off the hook and rushed to the store. “Well, at least I had time to apply my makeup, otherwise people would probably take me for a deranged witch,” she grunted, noticing her reflection in the mirror in the lobby. “That’s what dressing in a rush does to your appearance! I look like a gypsy, or a hippie, or an overgrown teenager. Should I change into another skirt? This one is way too long. No, I don’t really have any time to do that; suppose I put on a leather jacket instead of the coat, it would look better.”
The grocery store was quite close. After walking vigorously for ten minutes – her long and loose skirt flapping like a sail – she reached the store. Thank God, it was almost deserted on a Saturday.
“I suggest that you leave your bag in storage, lady,” said a security guard, blocking her way. He did not look particularly friendly, most probably an ex-cop or a retired military guy. He was obviously bored, and thus acted extra alert.
“Why on earth?” she asked, pausing in amazement. No one had ever asked for it in that store.
“There’s too much shoplifting these days. We ask all the customers to leave their bags in storage,” explained the security guard, preventing her from coming in.
“It is not much of a bag. Forget it,” Dinah snorted arrogantly, trying to pass by. “Don’t you have any better things to do? I don’t want to waste my time.”
“It is a regulation!” he persisted, squinting and acting the part of a watchful guard. “It is big enough to tuck something into it.”
“Don’t you see that it is very small? Come on! There’s hardly enough space for my keys, my lipstick and my wallet. Where would I “tuck” anything? Besides, don’t you see that I am not a shoplifter?”
“Appearance is deceptive. I never go by it,” he said with a nasty scowl. “And if you want to steal, you’ll find what to steal.”
“Hey, don’t you boss me around,” said Dinah, irritated. “I can see that you are new here, while I have been coming to this store for ages. Stop this nonsense! I have no time for checking in my bag,” she kept persisting. “And even less time for arguing with you… You’d better keep an eye on the street kids.”
“I have my instructions,” grinned the security guard, eyeing her impudently, holding her elbow and obviously showing off his importance. “And I have to stick to them even in front of such nice-looking and pushy ladies.” Apparently he liked to play the part of a watchful guard; both were trying to assert themselves.
“I can’t care a damn for your instructions. Are you flirting with me or what? And keep your hands off me. If you want to flirt, find a young girl; why don’t you go for one of the shop assistants?” said Dinah with brusque arrogance. “Don’t forget your place. I wish you’d remember my social status and yours. They are quite different. And if you want to look through my bag on my way out, I won’t mind at all.” She gave him a condescending glance, elbowed him off her way, grabbed a shopping basket and walked confidently inside. “I wish they would not employ cads who upset the customers. This geezer dared touch me on top of everything else! I’ll definitely tell my husband, and this young loser will be in a big trouble before he knows it,” she muttered in indignation, heading for the fish section.
She opened the fridge, placed a tin of red caviar into her basket, picked up a bottle of olive oil on the way and headed for the cashier. There were just a couple of people waiting in line.
“Damn!” came her stifled voice again, second time this morning. It was obviously not her day. She could not find her wallet. In her rush she had clean forgotten that she had taken it out of her bag the night before, while searching for a friend’s business card.
Frustrated, Dinah stepped to the side. Shaking her head and swearing inwardly, she walked back in complete confusion, intending to put the items back on the shelf. It was a most ridiculous situation, something that had never happened to her before, something that did not need in the least. She placed the olive oil back on the shelf, walked up to the fridge with the fish delicacies. Inwardly, she was mad at herself.
“You are as stupid as they make them! The night before you’ve forgotten the caviar, today you’ve left the money at home.” She almost spat on the floor in frustration. “And what am I to do now? Should I rush home to pick up my wallet and come here again? That would take at least half an hour. I will definitely have no time left for the hairdresser. And I do want my husband to see my new hairdo when he gets home. I guess, taking the caviar and paying for it tomorrow is out of the question. Even though it would be so convenient to bring the money later… Could I leave them my watch as a guarantee? I don’t think so; it is not a market, it is a respectable shop. I wish I saw someone I knew.” She looked around. “No, the place is deserted.” Still thinking, she turned the tin in her hands. “Maybe, I have some money in one of the pockets?” She was still reluctant to give up. She put the empty basket on the floor, pressed her bag to her belly and emptied it with her left hand, still holding the tin in the right one. “Not a coin, drat it, even though I need it desperately!” Her hands were shaking, and all of a sudden the tin slipped out of her moist fingers and fell inside her bag. Dinah gave a violent start and, instinctively, looked around. There was no one there to see, her fidgeting by the freezer went completely unnoticed.
“I might bring the money tomorrow.” This crazy idea flashed through her mind, scaring her out of her wits. “Still, it would mean that today I would steal it.” She froze in fear. “Even if I bring the money tomorrow, today it will be shoplifting. That’s crazy! Looks like I am loosing my mind.” She was appalled by the whole idea. And yet, a strange devil was now awake deep inside her, and it was tempting her even further. “It is not really shoplifting, for I will pay up tomorrow. It will be more like a loan. And what’s wrong with it? I am a decent woman, and I will just take a loan. Suppose a friend of mine was working as cashier here, or suppose I personally knew the store manager, would they refuse me this loan?” Her hands, as if by their own accord, zipped up the bag with the tin inside. “Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I will come and pay. I will buy something else, and I will say that I’d forgotten to pay for the caviar.” She took another quick look around. There was no one there still. Her head was swimming, the palms of her hands were even more moist than before. “Oh my God, am I out of my mind?” she recoiled all of a sudden. “It is shoplifting! How can I even think about it? Go put it back, this very minute!” She reached to unzip the bag, but at that moment another female customer appeared from behind a shelf. Browsing through the shelves, she was gradually approaching. Dinah, in mild frustration, stepped back from the freezer. It would look suspicious if she took the caviar out of her bag and placed it inside the fridge in front of another customer.
Dinah pretended that she was browsing too, stepped aside and decided to wait for the lady to leave. The lady was taking her time, though, still searching for something. She did not manage to find whatever she needed, and asked a shop assistant who was passing by to help her. The shop assistant left to fetch her something, and the lady stayed to wait, yawning. It was already eleven a.m., the shop was becoming busier. Another customer approached the fish delicacies counter, one more came from around the corner. It would now be hard to replace the tin. Dinah’s other option was to discard it someplace else, so she started strolling between the counters, looking for a deserted place.
No luck – all the sections were now busy and swarming with people. Dinah glanced at her watch. She had lost almost half an hour trying to get rid of the tin, just the time she would have needed to run home and fetch the money. And now she was desperately late, and had to make a final decision. Either get the caviar out of her bag and risk being spotted, or to try to somehow walk out and pay tomorrow.
Before she knew it, she was back at the check-out. Right in front of her, a guy with an attaché case and an empty basket walked right by the teller and a paying customer, and the cashier just gave him a nonchalant look. The guy placed his basket into a stack and headed for the door; her head swimming, Dinah almost involuntarily followed in his tracks, as if someone was pushing her from behind. The cashier cast the same nonchalant glance at her empty basket and went on attending to the paying customer. Dinah discarded her basket and walked to the door, feeling that a heavy load had lifted off her shoulders; she was again breathing freely. The twitching of her fingers turned into a pleasant tingle, her dizziness was quickly subsiding.
She licked her parched lips and, exhaling with relief, was about to push the door of the store, when she felt a firm grip on her elbow.
“I am sorry, you are going the wrong way.” The loud voice made her start. It sounded in her brain as a ‘Stop!” signal; Dinah froze. She was still trying to entertain some illusions, while in fact she was caught.
“What is it?” She turned round, feeling her legs go limp and her face turning red. The security guard was staring at her. His eyes had the evil twinkle of a jackal that had caught a desirable prey; Dinah realized it and felt a growing lump of ice inside her chest.
“It seems to me, you’ve forgotten to pay for one item, madam.” It sounded like an on-the-spot execution, and she was twitching with every word, as if he was firing at her. “Please step over here.”
Dinah’s mind went blank, she felt like a desperate fawn that had fallen into a deadly trap.
“Where? Why?” she muttered, hardly able to part her white lips.
“To conduct an examination. We need to make sure you have not taken any items out of the store without paying.”
“I… don’t want…” she said, blushing even more desperately.
“What do you mean – you don’t want? Do you want me to force you, or should I call the police?” he asked mercilessly, piercing her with his gaze.
“No… not really…” stammered Dinah, pinned by his ruthless, icy stare. She knew that she needed, at all cost, to regain her composure, and yet she could not. She was immobilized by an animal fear; it deprived her of her ability to resist. It was way too unexpected.
“Then come over. It’s your best option. Do not try to protest. We have seen everything you were doing inside the store. We have cameras everywhere. It is all recorded.” Still holding her elbow, he led her into a room for personal examination. Her legs were numb with desperation, and she strode obediently next to him, unable to protest or to argue.
The room was empty. It was a blank enclosure, no windows, painted walls, a small table and two chairs; it looked like a prison cell, and thus seemed even more menacing. Dinah began to shake inwardly. Her eyesight dimmed, her head swimming, she felt waves of heat and cold running down her back. The color on her cheeks subsided into paleness. It was like a nightmare.
“Take a seat.” The security guard pushed a chair into the middle of the room and took position in front of it, his hands crossed, as if she was being interrogated by Gestapo. “I will start with questioning you. Then we might have to write a statement or to call the police.”
Dinah’s legs became liquid and she sank on the chair. The bag almost dropped on the floor, having slipped out of her perspiring hand, as if there was a heavy dumb-bell, not a tiny tin, inside.
“I do not, as yet, accuse you of shoplifting, and yet, my instructions prescribe that I subject you to a personal examination.” The word “shoplifting” was like a slap in the face, and Dinah gave a violent start, while the grinning guard went on accusing her. “I have good reasons for that. And you know why. And now you don’t really look as self-assured.” Then he added, with an evil smile. “Only an hour ago someone was behaving in a most arrogant way.”
“I did not really mean to be rude,” whined Dinah. She felt absolutely helpless in the terrible torture room.
“You did not mean it?” the guard grinned arrogantly, obviously enjoying the fact that she was at his mercy. “And yet, you made it quite clear that you feel superior.”
“No-no, I am sorry, I did not really mean it,” Dinah mumbled pitifully, as if begging a sadist to take mercy.
“Such a well-groomed, high-society lady who was looking down at me… making me feel like a servant,” he went on cynically, his eyes full of hatred.
“It was just… please don’t take it personally… just…” Dinah’s lips were shaking, her eyes filled with tears; she felt like a doomed victim, and that made her whole body sticky with sweat. She could not collect her thoughts, for he had completely demoralized her.
“And now that you have stolen a tin of caviar, you are whimpering like a miserable doggy,” added the guard, snarling lustily, frankly enjoying her humiliation.
“I… did not… steal anything…” whispered poor Dinah, trying to bite back her tears.
“That’s what we are going to check now. I intend to find the tin you have hidden. I have seen on the monitor how you were fingering it.”
He walked to the door and locked it from the inside. The click of the lock made Dinah gasp, yet at the same time a tiny ray of hope flickered in her feverish mind. Maybe, they have not seen me put it inside my bag… I might still have a chance… It is not as desperate as it might seem… These thoughts were rushing through her head, snapping off like old threads; in a convulsive move, she pushed the bag deeper under the table. The security guard turned around abruptly, he seemed to have noticed. A mean smile lingered at the corners of his mouth, and he pierced her with a predatory glare.
“Stand up, I will search you.”
“What… do you mean… search me?” asked Dinah in a faltering voice, and yet stood up meekly, not daring to protest. “Do you intend… to search me? Please, don’t… there’s nothing…” Her voice trailed away.
“Would you rather have me call the police? Then the cops will search you. They will enjoy it, I am sure. But, of course, they will search you at the station, not here. In a cell full of urchins and whores.”
Horrified, Dinah realized that he was right, that her best tactic would be to show obedience. She was so scared that it never occurred to her to demand to be searched by a female agent, or to request the presence of a manager; she was too shocked.
“And there you will get it all,” he said, starting to grope her. “I believe that you know the cop’s ways. Well, what do we have here in the pockets?” His hands were squeezing her breasts. “Well, well, we need to check it thoroughly.” He was obviously getting sexed up.
“Please… not like that…” Dinah winced pitifully, shaking all over, her remaining strength seeping out of her, for he had dominated her completely.
“Like what? Do you really want to go to the cops? The minute they get hold of a lovely thing like you… Hey, why don’t you remove your jacket, we’ll go on without it.” Dinah, shaking even more vigorously, meekly allowed him to remove her jacket. She was now absolutely helpless.
“Now stand here.” He turned her, making her face the table, pulled the chair to the side and placed the bag on it. Again Dinah started involuntarily when he picked it up, and again the guard chuckled, pretending not to notice her reaction. He went on with the search, standing behind her and openly enjoying his domination.
“Have you ever been inside a police station?” he asked in a hoarse, mean voice, his lips close to her ear. She shuddered again, freezing even further. The guard’s hands began to crawl all over her body. “I think you should try to stay away from it. Later, you won’t be able to prove anything. There’s nothing they like better than an arrogant bitch like you.” His hands were getting bolder and bolder, once again he was squeezing her breasts.
“Hey! What are you doing?” she cried involuntarily, grabbing his hands.
“What’s that? Put your hands down, please. I am an ex-cop myself. I know what I am saying and what I am doing. Let me go!” he roared. Sobbing, Dinah brought her shaking hands down obediently.
“That’s better,” grinned the security guard. “Now step closer to the table and place your hands on it.” He pushed her towards the table.
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she felt the whole horror of her helpless situation, the horror of being at the mercy of this brute.
“And how would you like me to search you? It is a tiny tin, you could have placed it anywhere.” He was deliberately molesting her. “Like, inside your bra. As for the folds of your skirt, I bet there are some hidden pockets inside. That’s the way the gypsies do. I noticed your skirt the moment you walked in. And now I have to check everywhere. I have my instructions, and this is my job. By the way, someone spoke arrogantly about my instructions.” His hands crawled inside her décolleté. “You were saying that you could not care less for them. And now I am going to prove that they are actually quite important.” His sweaty paw squeezed inside her bra, pushing it down. Dinah again tried to protest, but choked on a lump of air that got stuck in her throat, while the guard began to avidly squeeze the soft flesh of her breast, breathing hoarsely behind her back.
“Well, looks like there’s nothing here.” His voice was hoarse, she could feel his mounting arousal. Dinah, totally demoralized, was shaking all over, still unable to utter a single word. “Let’s keep looking,” went on the security guard, “for that’s what my instructions prescribe that I do. We will check it all. Absolutely everything.” His hands reached under the hem of her blouse, rested on her bare belly, her waist, slipped under the belt of her skirt, traveled slowly up and down her buttocks, trying to push even lower down her body. He was openly enjoying his domination, prolonging the pleasure he derived from molesting her.
“Stop it! What are you doing?” finally stammered Dinah, shaking even more violently. “What is it?” She grabbed his hands again.
“Hey, let me go! Do you hear me? Just stand still, you!” The roar that came from behind was almost beastly. It turned her numb, as if she was banged on the head. “It is up to me, to check or not to check your bag. Stand still, you bitch, unless you want to end up in jail. I will have you behind bars for shoplifting, do you hear me?” Dinah went numb with ice-cold fear. She was cornered.
…The hands behind her were taking more and more liberties, in a more and more crude way, the guard’s hoarse breath was now like an animal snuffle, and she was immobilized by shock, perspiring more and more, shivering all over. First he was just fingering her thighs and her buttocks, then his paws crawled under her skirt; gulping loudly, he pushed it up and started squeezing her buttocks, breathing hoarsely, his fingers getting closer and closer to her groin.
“Oh, my God! What… are… you doing?” She could hardly speak and had to force the words out of her mouth.
“How do I know you have not hidden it there? Eh? You might have it there, you bitch. I have to examine you all over, you thief. All over, do you hear me? All over…” Dinah could almost feel the saliva drip from his snarling mouth, as if he was ready to devour her alive; dazed with horror, she still knew that she was fully in the power of the deranged maniac. Protesting was out of the question; Dinah had a feeling that if she tried, he would just tear out her throat, like a wild animal. She bit her lip and sobbed.
His ruthless fingers pushed her panties to the side and reached for her groin. They checked out her labia, slid up her pubis, scratched through her pubic hair, and then the nasty claw traveled back down. Dinah was on the verge of fainting, her head was foggy, and she was suffocating.
“Hey, flex your back a little. Keep your hands on the table. And keep them straight. Straight, I said!” His croaking made her colder and colder. His hand firmly placed on her groin, the guard pressed her back down with his other hand, making her flex it, and she obeyed, for all her remaining strength was gone.
“Don’t… I beg you… don’t” she whined through her tears, moving her sweaty hands down the dirty table top and getting into the mating position.
“Wow, you have a swell bum!” He did not seem to listen to her any longer. “A well-groomed, juicy one… Hey, push it a little higher.” He was greedily squeezing her buttocks, pushing her skirt even higher, and pulling her panties down to her knees. “What was it you were saying about your social status? You will now get a fucking status, just you wait. You will never look down on me again, you thief.” He spit on his hand and lubricated his fully erect penis; spit one more time and moistened her orifice, and then began to hurriedly take aim. He was obviously eager to fuck her. He was shaking all over in his beastly lust, and her whining seemed to provoke him even further.
Dinah was rigid with fear, she felt that she might loose it and wet her pants. Her throat contracted to the extent that she could not speak, her breathing was labored; a streak of cold sweat was running down her back, her legs were limp. She was on the point of fainting. It was akin to the feelings of a doomed prisoner seconds before the knife of the guillotine falls on his neck.
Bang! his belly slapped against Dinah’s buttocks, and his penis plunged deep inside her; she felt impaled. Her body wreathed convulsively, a hot lump of air got stuck in the middle of her chest, and, in a flash, the examination room turned into limbo. Bang, bang, bang… her buttocks were shaking with his violent thrusts. The security guard was roaring as a wild beast as he fucked her mercilessly.
He was ruthless and insatiable, a starved animal that had finally got its prey; clawing her dangling breasts, restraining her from falling on the table, he was pulling her closer with every thrust, each time plunging even deeper… His croaking behind her was becoming more and more muffled, he was panting and drooling, he was wailing and sweating, he was wriggling convulsively like a street mongrel that had straddled a careless lap dog; he was just insane. He paused for a second to snatch off her panties and to push his pants out of the way, and then, roaring, attacked her again, to fuck further and further.
Dinah felt like a trapped doe, a slaughtered animal, a molested slave… As if in a nightmare, she realized that she was being devoured by the beast, that she was a prey… She tried to relax, to be submissive, to prevent him from hurting her, so she flexed her back even further to let his penis glide in and out smoothly, she tried to chase away her panic, so that her natural secretion would help her, since she wanted him to come as soon as possible and thus to stop the torture. She whined, and gasped, and sobbed, she convulsed with every thrust, she felt the ganch of his penis burn her, as it was becoming harder and harder.
Finally his rhythm accelerated even further, his thrusts became even more abrupt. His breathing was raspy, as if he was about to die, his hands clutched her breasts painfully, he dug his teeth into her neck, gasped and, convulsing in agony, began to come. With his torture instrument all the way down her vagina, he pressed his pubis to her buttocks and froze, wriggling convulsively inside her, as if about to be destroyed by his own madness. The cad had not bothered to put on a condom, and now Dinah felt his hot semen erupting inside her, the tip of his penis almost touching her womb. She felt that she, too, was about to die from this crazed storm.
…Her legs shaking, Dinah walked through the doors of the store. Her head was swimming, her eyesight was still dim. She was totally confused; everything looked vague and abstract, and she was not even sure as to which way to go or what to do next. She took a dozen steps and leaned helplessly against a tree. She felt that she was about to lose her balance, that she would slip down the trunk and collapse on the ground. Dinah closed her eyes and dropped her bag; then she began to inhale slowly and deeply, trying to regain her composure.
She was taken out of this swoon by an unpleasant feeling that something nasty was trickling down her leg. She gasped and raised her skirt in disgust. The semen was oozing out of her vagina and running down her inner thigh. When the cad finally released her from the torture chamber, she had clean forgotten about her panties still lying on the floor.
It was at that moment that she finally realized what had happened. She needed to rush to the drugstore and get some Miramistine. Her only hope was to disinfect herself as fast as possible…
A small tin of caviar was still lying deep inside her bag. It had indeed been shoplifted. Dinah never went to that store again.
This story is a part of Looking Through the Curtains Collection of erotic short stories that you can find on Amazon.com. The series of these Collections includes 200 stories, none of them for the minors.