A World For the Taking
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Please do not read if under 18 years of age or offended by sexually explicit stories and situations.
(c) 2003 Couture
I watched my mother rub the fuzzy fabric between her fingers. Not looking at the cashmere sweater, just feeling it. Her eyes were directed elsewhere. At someone I didn’t want them directed at.
“You want me to distract the saleslady?” I asked, trying to get her mind on her ‘shopping’.
“No,” she said, still looking out of the corner of her eye.
I knew who she was looking at without even turning my head. I had noticed the group of girls earlier, the way they looked around to see if anyone was watching, but not even noticing Mother or me . . . amateurs. They whispered to their small friend with glasses. They were trying to get her to take something. She was obviously scared, and didn’t want to do it, but it was obvious her resolve was weakening. The worst part was, judging from the look of the other girls, they probably wouldn’t even let her keep it.
“You want her?” mother asked.
“Maybe I should take her then?”
“Mother. . .” I let it hang. She could be so exasperating sometimes – downright embarrassing.
Her nostrils flared. I looked over and watched the girl put a brightly colored blouse in an empty shopping bag. My mom went around the other side of the clothing rack stalking the poor girl.
“Come on Mom, why are you even bothering with her?” I caught her by her sleeve. “She’s nothing – not even enough to take.”
I was scared. Not of the girl getting taken, but scared because the girls went to school with me at community college. What in the world would I do if they found out what kind of person mother really was?
“You know when I was your age, I had taken dozens,” mother said.
“But Mom,” I said. “That was a long time ago and things have changed. Besides, I’m going to school so I can have a real job.”
Mother ran her fingers through my hair and looked down at me with a disappointed glare. “I see that I’ve done a ‘real job’ of spoiling you. Do you think we could afford the lifestyle we lead, without mummy’s work?”
“I know that’s what you do mom, and there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just that maybe I don’t want to do it. I’m not like you.”
“You’re more like me than you know.” That damned knowing smirk again.
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are.”
“Okay sweetie, let’s not argue,” Mother said, as she reached over and rolled a silk blouse through her fingers. “And they call this silk? This is crap. I’m going to go see if I can find a store that doesn’t have seconds.”
“The shirt is fine Mother.”
“Maybe for you,” she said patronizingly. “Surely they have something of quality in this mall. Really, I wouldn’t even come in here if it wasn’t for THEM. Tell you what, I’ll meet you in the food court in an hour. “
To tell the truth, I was glad to leave her. It wasn’t the clothes that she didn’t like. Mother liked clothes. But there was one thing she loved more than clothes and that was taking. It was obvious what her mind was on today. She would probably take someone today and I didn’t want to be around when she did it.
I shopped for awhile and tried on a new pair of shoes. The saleswoman wasn’t very helpful or attentive, so I put my old shoes back in the box and left. An hour later I met mom at the food court. We ordered sushi and sat down to eat at one of the small tables with an umbrella on top. Why people put umbrellas on tables that are indoors, I’ll never know.
“You Take?” Mother asked.
“Just a pair of shoes.” I showed them to her and she was her usual critical self.
“Want to see what I took?” she asked, beaming proudly.
She showed me the contents of her bag, a very young looking brightly colored shirt. Not mother’s style at all, but the look in her eyes said she was pleased as a peach. She was smiling like the cat that ate the canary.
I thought it was for me at first, but then my stomach lurched as I recognized where I had last seen the blouse. “Mother, you didn’t.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Oh but I did. I’m sorry sweetie, but I couldn’t resist. She was just too easy. It was like finding fifty dollars on the ground and no one was looking. Oh, and you were right, she does go to your little college. Isn’t that nice?”
Damn, it was all my fault. I should have never left Mother alone. Not when she had that look in her eye. Now, what was I going to do? Yes, get out of there as quickly as possible. “That’s it then mother. Okay, we’re leaving right now. Quick, before she sees us together. I don’t want to have to move again.”
Mothers smile grew wider. Sometimes I hated her. She could be so infuriating.
“Oh, I don’t think she’d like that very much sweetie,” she said.
“This is serious mother. I have to go to school with these people. It’s bad enough I’ve had to move around all my life. But this, this is totally and completely unforgivable,” I said, being as forceful as I dared without being Ataşehir Escort noticed by the other diners. “Tell me what you did.”
“I did the old undercover security officer routine. I gave her a good searching and then I took everything. I’ve put all the new purchases I bought with her credit card and checks in the car already.”
“Damn it mother,” I said. “She was just a girl. *I* could have taken her. Why couldn’t you have taken someone else? Someone more worthwhile.”
“Like who?” Mother smirked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. It was so exasperating talking to her sometimes. The point wasn’t, who it was, just that she shouldn’t cause me problems by picking people I might know. “Someone like that woman there,” I said, nodding at a young woman passing by. Mother would never have chosen someone like her though. The woman obviously had money, judging from the clothes she was wearing, but she had an aloofness that suggested she was better than everyone else. It’s hard to take from someone who won’t even look at you.
“Take her then,” mother said.
“No!” I wasn’t taking anyone. “We’re leaving.”
“If not for yourself or for me, then do it for Penny.”
“Your little friend from college,” she said. “I didn’t just Take her money. . . I Took *everything*. She’s in a restroom stall, naked as the day she was born. I told her I would send someone back later with her clothes.”
“Where is she?” I demanded. “We’re giving them back — right now.”
“I’m not telling,” she said smugly. “I’m not telling unless you Take . . . her.” She nodded at the retreating from of the woman I had noticed earlier.
Damn it – damn it – what was I going to do? “Someone else mother. Someone easy.” Why did I pick her anyway? Why couldn’t I have chosen a young boy or an old man.
She just smiled and shook her head. The bitch!
“What do I do?” I asked.
“Figure it out.”
“Fine,” I said as I got up. I refused to let mother know she had gotten the better of me.
“You’re really going to do it?” Mother asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Do I have a choice.”
“I was just teasing you honey,” she said. “Sit back down and finish your drink. Then we can go home or maybe Take someone together. Someone easy.”
“But, what about Penny?”
“Fuck Penny,” she said. “What’s she to *us*?”
“She goes to my school,” I said. “But I’m not just doing this for Penny . . .I’m going to take that woman, because you don’t think I can.”
“Sit down Lisa,” she said. “Think it over. You know better.”
“I’m Taking her.” I knew I was being stupidly prideful, but I couldn’t help it. Mother thought she was better than me because I went to school and had bigger plans in live. . She thought I would end up just like her . . .a Taker, lifting things here and there and hustling people to make a living.
“Do it then,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ll be waiting in the car and ready to go in an instant. Do you remember where we parked?”
“Then do it. Take her.”
“Fine.” I was already beginning to regret my decision. Why hadn’t I agreed with her and just went home? Now she was safely in the car and I had to try to Take that rich woman. Well, I would show her. I got up, taking my diet Pepsi with me, and casually followed the woman. I still had no idea what to do. How to Take her? The shoplifting trick wouldn’t work, not for someone like her, not even if I could plant something on her. No, she would just buy her way out of it with a laugh. I followed her to a few stores, watching, but not letting anyone know I was watching, from a safe distance.
Mother would probably have known what to do, but I didn’t have a clue. Maybe I could pretend to be a salesgirl and offer her a real good deal — cash money for whatever she wanted. Nah, she’d never go for it. What I needed, was to get inside the woman’s mind. What made Miss Stuckup tick?
It was amusing to watch the sales woman fell all over herself to help Miss Stuckup. But finally, Miss Stuckup found something she liked and went to the dressing room. This was my big chance; it was now or never. I picked up a shirt I didn’t even like and followed her.
I was still clueless on how I was going to Take her. While she had her pants down, I could easily snatch her purse and run. Only problem was, security would be after me and I couldn’t give Penny her clothes afterwards. That damned stupid girl! I wouldn’t even be doing this if it wasn’t for that fucking Penny, who just had to go and shoplift in front of my mother. I pictured Penny naked, nervous, alone, and waiting for someone to bring her some clothes. I must admit the thought of her – naked and alone – aroused me. It also gave me an idea. I went to the next dressing room over from Miss Stuckup and quickly shed my clothes. I was naked as Penny, but I wasn’t Penny. I was smarter – a Taker. My heart sped and I prayed my plan would work, but was what I was doing right? It didn’t matter. I had to do it to help my classmate and Ataşehir Escort Bayan to teach my mother a lesson. But, this wasn’t like taking a pair of shoes from a company that pays its executive millions of dollars a year. This was a living breathing person.
I imagined Miss Stuckup vainly preening in front of the mirror. I imagined her being cruel to the people who waited on her. The people she treated like dirt. Yes, Miss Stuckup deserved it. She deserved to be Taken. It was only fair. I was doing the world a favor.
I summoned up my nerve, pushed my purse underneath the small space beneath the dressing room stall and the floor, and then rolled under myself.
Miss Stuckup sputtered and spat, her eyes wide at the sight of my naked body. “Wh-what- get out – oh my god – get out.”
I put my hand over her mouth. “If someone comes in, I’ll say you tried to rape me. Do you want that to happen?” I said it all serious like, no smile or giggle – one hundred percent pure business. I was no longer a college senior but a full fledged Taker.
Her face grew pale. She closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Good, cause I’m only fourteen,” I lied. I’m eighteen, but what was she gonna do, check my license? “And if you get caught with me, then that would make you one of them – like – sex offenders or something wouldn’t it? You know, even when you get out of prison, they are gonna make you register with your state and the city you live in.” Miss Stuckup looked like she was going to faint and I warmed to the role and the power I felt. “Not to mention the women in prison. I think they would be hard on a someone who messed with a child, much less a rich bitch like you, ya know?”
Tears streamed from her eyes as she nodded her head. She was mine. I had Taken her. Sure as shit, I had Taken her. Now, I only had to keep her off balance and not let her think.
“Did you just look at me, like you think you’re better than me, stuck up bitch?” I asked angrily. She didn’t, but that wasn’t the point. She shook her head.
“You think your clothes make you better than me, Miss Stuckup?”
“no,” she managed to squeak.
“Then take ’em off. Hurry,” I urged. “I’m not fucking playing. Do I look like I’m playing?”
“No,” she said, her eyes pleading. Her top was off already, and soon her skirt lay in a puddle at her feet.
She stood in front of me blushing and I stared at her in disbelief. She was wearing garters and stockings, panties on outside the garters. I knew in that instant it was her husband who had the money.
I fingered one of her garters, sweat had broken out on her brow, as she vainly tried move away from me. “Are you some kind of whore Miss Stuckup?”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m ahh- married . . . and my husband.”
“Likes you to slut for him?”
“Please,” she begged. “What do you want?”
“I want you to take off your bra and panties bitch. Now do it, or I’ll scream rape, I swear it!”
She took off her bra first. Her breasts were large, but fake. A nice Beverly Hills job though. She slid her panties off, and hid her sex behind her hand.
“Not so much better than me now, are you Miss Fake Boobies?”
She shook her head again. “Please what do you want?” she begged, her cheeks burned a bright crimson, as tears welled in her eyes.
Instead of feeling guilty, I honestly felt like laughing and had to do my best to give her a mean angry look. “Move your hand. What are you hiding, you don’t think I haven’t seen a pussy before?”
She moved her hand and I was momentarily speechless. Her sex was a smooth as silk. Damn, what women will do to keep a rich husband.
“Wow, it’s smooth,” I said in awe. “I reached down to touch her, to see if it was really as smooth and soft as it looked. She moved to stop me.
“You know better,” I warned and she withdrew her hand. I touched her and met no resistance. Her pussy was amazingly soft, without a hint of stubble. I also discovered that she was also . . . growing quite wet.
“Amazing,” I said, still rubbing her. “Do you wax it?”
“No, oh, I ah – it was ah – laser.”
“I’m turning you on, huh? You fuck an old guy I bet, but you like girls, don’t you? Huh, Miss Stuck-up, you like girls?”
“No-ah!” she gasped.
“Little girls? Is that it, you like young girls?”
“No, oh God, please stop,” she begged. Though she shook her head no, her she opened her legs wider. Her pussy was positively gushing and her nipples grew erect.
I heard the outside door to the dressing room open and there was a knock on the door to our stall. “Is everything okay?” the saleswoman asked.
I could feel Miss Stuckup tense in my hands. I could smell her arousal and I could almost hear her thinking. This could be her last chance for help, but what could she do, with me behind her, my finger delving into her sex. How could she explain it?
“No,” Miss Stuckup said. “I’m fine. I ah I ah need to ugh- be left alone ah – while I’m changing if you don’t mind.”
As soon as Escort Ataşehir the door closed again, my fingers sped. Her pussy made wet smacking sounds as I fucked three fingers into her sex, rubbing her clit with my thumb. “Please stop- ah- oh -please don’t do this,” she gasped. And yet, she spread her legs, making herself all the more available to me, bracing herself on the wall with her hands for support.
“Now let’s get back to business,” I said, as I pushed a finger in her ass. “Do you like young girls, baby, is that it?” I had my hands full now, filling her from the front and back.
“No- ugh – no, oh God,” she gasped. “Please stop.”
So I did, but I kept my fingers inside her to keep her manageable, but I didn’t move them. Then inspiration hit. “You don’t like young girls, you want to *be* a young girl, don’t you? That’s why you have a bald puss, isn’t it?”
She shook her head, tossing tears left and right.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Diana – ahhhh- Diana.”
“Well, Daina-ahh Diana, that’s an awfully big name for such a little girl, I think I’m gonna call you Dee-Dee for short, is that okay with you?”
“Yes – ugh,” she whimpered.
“Yes, Miss Lisa,” I corrected.
“Ahh, yes Miss Lisahhh,”
“Dee-Dee, what are you doing out here in this big-ol’ mall all by your lonesome?”
“Ah, I ah don’t know.” She moved back against my fingers.
“Poor Dee-Dee, alone in such a big mall all by her little self. Did mommy leave you? Are you lost? Do you want Miss Lisa to take care of you little girl?”
“Yes, Miss,” she said in the cutest little voice you could imagine.
“Good girl,” I cooed. “Okay Dee-Dee, do you want to play a game? I know, let’s play the horsy game. Do you want to play the horsy game?”
She nodded her head, actively moving up and down on my fingers – riding me. It was what gave me the idea in the first place.
“Good girl, it looks like you already know how to play. Go on girl, ride the horsy.”
Her hips moved up and down faster and faster. Her moisture was soaking my whole had and I could feel my own puddling beneath me on the hard seat. It wasn’t a young girl’s ass bobbing up and down on my arm, but a woman’s ass. Full and thick, bucking and thrusting with years of experience. It she was doing it because I was making her. Fuck if I wasn’t getting turned on.
“Ah-ah-ah,” Diane cried a little too loudly.
“Shush,” I urged. “Be a good girl.”
“B-but-ugh- my ass is burning.”
“So?” What? Like it was my problem or something. “You want to ride or not Dee-Dee?”
She gave a plaintive whine, her hips bucked faster.
“Look in the mirror,” I ordered. “Look at yourself.”
She looked at herself in the mirror and gave a long moan. It set her off, and her body shook when she orgasmed. When she stopped, her body squeaked as she slid down the mirror, until she sat next to me.
I wiped my hand clean on her clothes and rummaged through her purse while she recovered.
“What are you doing?” she asked, but the fight had long since gone out of her.
“Getting a few things, Dee-Dee” I replied.
I held up a few of her credit cards. “Which has the smallest limit?”
Puzzled, she pointed to her Discover card. I took her money, the discover credit card, and her license. “Which is the key to your house?”
She hesitated and then pointed.
“I don’t think you will like what happens if I find you’ve lied. I’ve got your license, so I know where you live.”
Tears welled and she pointed to another key. The little bitch had lied to me.
“That’s a good girl, Dee-Dee,” I said, patting her knee. “Now tell Miss Lisa what you will do to keep this quiet.”
“Anything,” the tears were flowing now, and if I wasn’t feeling so horny, I probably would have felt a little guilty.
“How much is it worth?”
“It’s not my money, it’s my husband’s.”
“Ten thousand.” She saw my look and quickly amended. “Okay, maybe fifteen, but I don’t even know how I’ll get it without him getting suspicious.”
I reached between her legs and stroked her sex. She made no effort to stop me. “It’s okay Dee-Dee, I don’t want you to get in trouble,” I said. “Now think real hard and tell Miss Lisa how much you think you can get each month without getting caught.”
“Ah, two hundred,” she said. She was responding to my fingers again. I had her right where I wanted her.
“Miss Lisa.” I corrected.
“Two hundred Miss Lisa.”
I diddled her clit, and the poor thing was gushing again. What a pervert. “Only two hundred Dee-Dee? A pretty and smart girl like you is only worth two hundred dollars?”
“Four hundred. I think I can get four hundred Miss Lisa.”
“I want you to think real hard Dee-Dee. Maybe we could even play little girl games again. And I’m not going to be able to play little girl games if you are in prison. I think when they see your pretty boobies and bald little girly puss, those hard prison women are gonna want to play big girl games — *rough games*. So tell me Dee, how much is it worth hmmm? Hhow much to play little girl games.”
“A thousand, Miss Lisa” she gasped.
She gasped even louder when I stuck my wet finger in her ass. “That sounds like a very good number from a very smart and pretty little girl. Now here’s what I want you to do. . .”
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