Five Bright Smiles - Conclusion

Chapter 6

"Paige, really! Was that necessary," her mother remonstrated with little conviction in her voice.

Paige ignored her mother. She looked instead at the man at her feet. Thought he was barely conscious, he groaned slightly. "Don't you ever think of touching a girl without asking permission," she hissed. "If you move from there before I tell you to, that thing of yours will never get hard again."

He looked up at her. They both knew he understood. They also both knew he would not move until she told him he could.

She continued to glare at him, and made ready to leave. It had been an interview for her upcoming appearance in a beauty pageant his firm sponsored each year. They had gotten through evaluating her in a general interview which showed her to be bright and articulate. She had changed in an ante room into an outfit the firm used for promotion. It consisted of a much too short skirt and a much too tight top. She passed without question.

Finally he had asked to see her in a bathing suit. It was another of his firm's outfits. The tiny halter showed all of her breasts with the exception of tiny coverage for her nipples. The bottom was so tight that if she hadn't shaved herself completely even her pussy curls would have shown through the thin material. As it was the material completely outlined her pussy lips in what he felt was a very appealing fashion.

"This hardly covers anything. Let's see what you look like without it," he had said reaching for the tiny halter. An audible gasp came from her mother. It wasn't for fear of her daughter's modesty. It was for fear of the man's overall health.

As his hand touched her breast reaching for the halter strap, Paige leaned into his motion with a slight crouch. He never quite understood what happened next. He remembered only the feeling of an airborne cartwheel and the painful landing on his back.

She continued to look down. Her frightful expression of anger was now only a malevolent smile. The noise of his landing brought no assistance. The office was closed for the week. It was the time when he interviewed pageant hopefuls. A time when he felt soft, feminine flesh. A time when successful hopefuls frequently ended on their backs or at least on their knees. A time after which he went home in a light mood knowing that as expertly as this one had brought him to a climax, there were others who would try at least as hard. And hard was what this was all about.

Now he lay fearing his back was broken. He broke eye contact with the bitch and stared at the ceiling in pain.

She moved into his vision leaning slightly over him. She was still smiling. He looked at her, then away. He became aware of her motion and realized that she was removing the bottoms of her suit. It was so tight, it resisted, but as she pulled on it, she showed him that pussy he had been drooling over.

She dropped the flimsy material on his chest and stood over him, near his feet, but not too close. She was taunting him with a startling view. She spread her legs slightly. The malevolent smile never changed.

Even through the pain, his cock began to harden.

She took the strap of the halter top in the manner he had attempted and pulled it free of her breasts. They swayed with their release. She brought her hands from her waist upward and cupped her breasts for him to view. Then putting her hands on her hips, arms akimbo she gave him her Wonder Woman look.

It was a brief look. She turned and walked slowly to the ante room where her street clothes waited. He watched her hips sway as she left the room. He was hard, but the pain didn't permit him to move. Nor did his good sense.

She returned in moments with her street clothes. Facing him again, she slipped on an unremarkable pair of white panties and drew her fingers along the now hidden slit.

A t-shirt, no bra. The shirt was emblazoned "Bengal Taekwondo" in a semicircle over the head of a Bengal tiger with the words Black Belt beneath. A pair of designer jeans and sandals completed the outfit.

"When the door closes, you can get up," she told him as she and her mother left. The door closed. He didn't move. His cock was no longer hard.

Stefanie looked at her daughter and sighed, "We probably would have won. I wonder if he broke his back. Did you get all your clothes?"

"Mom," Paige was a bit exasperated with her mom's constant lack of focus. She was also running high on the adrenaline from the encounter. "One thing at a time. First, yes, I probably would have won, but it barely paid expenses and I don't need another win on my resume. Second, there are several others in about a week that we can think about entering. Don't worry about that." She let her breath out noisily. "Yes, I did get my clothes." She had seen her mom looking at her chest. She boosted her breasts with her free hand. "I didn't wear a bra over there. It's not that I forgot it. I just didn't feel like a bra this morning."

"You know, honey, they'll . . . ."

Paige interrupted impatiently, "I know, I know. When I'm your age, they'll be hanging to my knees. Right now let the boys look. I like the stares. I absolutely love it when they can't look me in the eye and they get this bulge in their pants."

"Well . . . ," her mother began again.

"And, lastly, about Mr. Can't Keep His Hands to Himself's back, fuck him." The bright pageant smile had returned.

"Alright, if you say dear," her mother sighed again and focused on finding their car in the parking garage.

Paige drove. The smile was back to a smirk. The attendant taking payment as they left the garage had been a middle aged male. As Paige handed him the ticket and a five dollar bill, he fumbled the exchange. His seat left him on a level with Paige's chest as she sat in the driver's seat of the SUV.

He was unable to read the t-shirt, but light passing through the material provided a vivid view.

He made change and handed the money back. Several coins fell onto the pavement. He hurried from his booth and was soon in the narrow space between Paige and his booth. Luckily he made no overt move to touch her though his face was almost inside the window as he handed the fallen coins.

Paige thanked him with one of the bright smiles making sure to hold his hand briefly as she took the coins.

Once on the street Stefanie observed, "You made his day." Paige smiled though it was now the smirk.  

*

Chapter 7

Paige and Stefanie looked through brochures, invitations, and on the web for several days trying to find the next pageant. The search process was fairly simple. The pageant had to pay well. If it was out of town, it had to be somewhere interesting. It should look good on her resume if she won. And, a key ingredient was the ability of taking her mother along. Mom was good at negotiating with the sponsors. Generally with mom along Paige knew she could focus on looking good rather than having to worry about dealing with pageant details.

Mom was also quite good looking which helped with sponsors as well. Funny, she thought not letting the irony escape her, pageants were almost always run by men.

It being Spring, they settled on a pageant in New Orleans. The flowers would be beautiful and the local contestants would probably be so stuck on themselves, a girl with sweet, natural beauty (Paige, of course) would have a good chance. Paige also knew how to handle the judges and sponsors should she have to.

Her entry was accepted and they were off to explore the Big Easy. They drove. It was an overnight trip, but neither minded. They enjoyed travel and enjoyed traveling together. The SUV was quite comfortable and its size made it much easier to carry all the necessary belongings. Besides, what else did they have to do anyway.

They took turns driving. Chatting, dozing, reading, listening to books or music occupied them well. Both women were well received at gas stations and rest stops. Even the highway patrol waved back when they flirted with them between their cars in passing on the roadway.

Night fell. They stopped for dinner at what looked to be a pleasant restaurant. They didn't intend to travel much further so they allowed themselves wine with dinner.

Their dinner finished they left headed again for the Big Easy. Actually dinner had taken longer than they had realized and they drank more wine than they intended, but they were both in a good mood and quite chatty. Traffic was exceptionally light in this corner of Tennessee where the population density was also very low.

Their chatting was suddenly interrupted by the car's gentle reminder that their fuel supply needed to be replenished. They fiddled with the GPS and located a station not too far. Unerringly the device led them to it. At one in the morning, however, the station was long since closed.

They selected another and continued down the road. Both began to feel a bit of apprehension, but neither said anything about it.

The second station was closed as well. A third station appeared to be just down the country two lane they had just exited onto. With Paige driving they headed toward this station. Apprehension was growing. "What if they're not open," wondered Stefanie. Paige didn't answer.

As they neared the designated spot the voice of the GPS informed them that the station was right around the corner. It was. And it was closed.

Paige stopped at one of the two pumps. "Maybe we can drain some gas from the hoses into the car," she said hopefully.

Alighting from the car she removed the cap from their tank and, taking the hose from the pump, placed the nozzle in the filler neck. She pulled up on the hose release handle and tried to manipulate it to drain whatever gas was in the hose into their tank. Though she had no idea if she'd been successful, she replaced it and tried the other one to add whatever gas it might hold.

Suddenly a bass voice came from the darkness. "Put the hose up and raise your hands."

Paige startled and dropped the hose. She screamed and backed as if to get back into the car. "Stop or I'll shoot," the voice was now strident.

Paige stopped and tentatively put her hands up. "We just wanted to see if we could get a little gas . . . ," she began in a voice just short of hysteria.

A figure emerged from the darkness. As he moved into the sliver of moonlight lighting the station driveway Paige could see it was an older man dressed in denim overalls and a faded flannel shirt. In the low light she was unable to discern its color. A baseball cap of the type farmers usually wore covered his head and threw a shadow on his eyes.

Most importantly he was pointing a double barreled shotgun at her. The shotgun did not waver. "Move away from the car," he growled motioning with the barrel of the shotgun.

She backed away from tripping over the concrete island. She maintained her balance, but feared for her life as her hands jerked this way and that in the effort. He made no comment, but as he passed the open driver's door, he glanced in. Seeing Stefanie, he snarled at her to get out as well.

Stefanie opened her door and stepped out. She moved to join her daughter. Her mouth moved occasionally, but nothing came out. She, too, had her hands raised in surrender. They stood together terrified facing a man with shotgun apparently intent on doing them harm. They huddled, arms in the air, saying nothing.

He found an electrical box on the island. He fumbled with the cover for a few seconds and light flooded the drive.

The lights were bright and gathered brightness as they warmed up. Finally Paige was able to speak. "We were running out of gas and nothing was open. We just wanted to get what might be in the hoses," she pleaded for understanding. "We'll be happy to pay you," she added hopefully.

He looked steadily at them pursing his lips. "Raise your arms higher," he said in a level voice.

They did. Paige was struck by the cool night air on her belly. Oh my god, she thought, that's what he wants. She was not wearing a bra, but no matter how high she raised her hands, she was sure her breasts would remain covered. She waited for his next move.

"Go on over to the store and lean your hands up against the window," he said indicating the entryway to the convenience store with the shotgun.

They turned and crossed the drive to the doorway of the store. There they stopped and leaned against the window. Inside the store was dark, but they could see Pepsi and Coke stacked high along the aisles. Candy and coffee, bags of snacks and toys for the kids in the car made the store look very normal. Signs on the windows screamed for them to take advantage of great savings and to buy snacks and hot foods for the journey.

He produced a key chain with so many keys it resembled a porcupine. He didn't fumble. One handed he went straight to the door key. He inserted it in the lock, turned it and pulled the door open. "Inside," he said motioning with the shotgun.

They stepped inside taking care to avoid the menacing barrel of the gun as they passed him. They stopped near the register, arms still raised and turned to face him. Light streamed in from the lighted drive casting deep shadows inside the store.

The store itself was old and not very clean. "Move," he said motioning them with the gun to walk into the shadows toward a door in the corner.

"We've got money. We can pay you," Stefanie offered.

"Move," he repeated. Without further comment they moved toward the interior door. They stopped at the door. "Open the door," he said.

Paige opened the door warily. The room beyond was dark and smelled of cardboard and oil. Inside she could see cases of product stretching into the blackness. On the wall were electrical conduit pipes neatly organized emanating from several large wall boxes.

"Open that box nearest you," he directed.

Lights, she figured.

"Flip the," he hesitated, "try the fifth breaker down. I can't see real well from here."

Paige threw the breaker switch. Lights came on behind them in the store. "Try the next one," he instructed.

She did and the room in which they stood was lighted harshly.

"Now, turn the other one off."

She did. The retail area of the store returned to its darkened state.

"See that light switch next to the big box . . . ."

Paige put her hand on a switch.

"Throw it."

She did and the drive went dark. The only light was now in the storage room in which they stood.

He closed the door. "That's better," he said more to himself than them. The women faced him silently, knees shaking, fearfully waiting his next move.

"See that cord?"

"Yes," Paige said with growing wariness.

"Tie her hands in front of her. Do it right and no one gets hurt. Fuck with me and you're dead."

Paige did as he directed and stepped back. "Pull her hands up on that hook facing the wall." It was a utility hook. He had guessed well. The hook was just about right to make her stand on tiptoes.

He wants me, Paige thought. Better me that mom, came to her forlornly.

"Pull her sandals off," again he motioned with the gun.

It left her mom standing on her toes to avoid having the rope bite into her wrists.

"Now the shorts. Pull 'em down to her knees."

Oh, god, I've got to expose mom! Nonetheless, she positioned them where he told her to.

"Those other things too, you moron," he exploded as Paige had carefully left Stefanie's panties in place.

"Please," Paige pleaded, "don't do that."

He raised the gun butt in a mock, but angry swing. "Do it," he bellowed.

She hastily brought the panties into position with the shorts and stood back trembling.

Motioning Paige away, he stepped closer to Stefanie and rubbed her ass with one hand. "Nice ass," he murmured.

A puzzled look crossed his face followed by one of understanding. "Let me see your butt, honey," he said to Paige motioning again with the gun.

Without a word, but with growing fear making it hard to breathe, she lowered her shorts and placed them on a nearby carton, then, without waiting to be told, she pulled off her panties. She stood facing him her shaven slit his only interest. "Turn around," he told her.

As she did, he said, "You two have got to be related."

"That's my mother," Paige confessed.

"Well, you two have a pair of fine behinds," he noted.

Paige turned back. "Please don't hurt us. Just let us pay you and leave."

"Put your hands back up," he said, "and peel that shirt off over your head when you do."

Paige burst into tears. "Please let us go."

"Do it," he shouted.

Reluctantly Paige raised her hands again peeling the shirt off her chest as she did. Her breasts caught in the shirt as she pulled it upward, then fell bouncing appealingly. She let the shirt fall from her raised hands.

"Nice tits," he said. "Bet your mom has nice tits, too."

"No," Paige was becoming adamant. "Leave her alone." She was shaking with rage and fear. "Would you like a blow job," the voice was small and almost childish. "I'm been told I'm pretty good at that. Then you could put it inside me if you want."

She looked coyly at him. "Let me get those overalls off you so I can suck you." The sultry, youthful voice and a twitch of her hips quieted him.

"I ain't never had a blow job."

"I'm real good at it." She knelt keeping her arms in the air. Throwing her shoulders back brought her breasts in position for his hands, his fingers.

"Would you touch my tits. I'm getting real horny thinking about that cock of yours."

He stepped forward and reached down with one hand to touch her breast. She didn't move. He touched it and ran his hand across it. She could see the bulge in his pants. She licked her lips. "Touch the other one, too," she said.

He reset the safety on the shotgun and laid it aside on a stack of Slim Jim cartons. Leaning forward he had both hands on her breasts.

"Can I see your cock? I really want it in my mouth," she licked her lips again.

His breathing was deeper as he unhooked the bib of his overalls. It fell. Paige took hold of it on either side and released the side buttons. She pulled them down to his knees.

"Can I pull your underwear off? Looks like you have a really big cock in there." She licked her lips.

"Sure," he was barely breathing.

As she pulled on his underwear, his cock sprang out. She took hold of it and stroked it gently.

"Are you ready for me to put it in my mouth and suck on it," she asked looking straight ahead into his crotch. She flicked the tip of his cock with her tongue as she stroked it with her hand.

"God, . . . ," was all he could get out.

In a blur her free hand hammered his balls several times before she pulled him forward by his cock. She was barely able to move out of the way as he crashed against the stacks of boxes, hitting his head as he fell. She kneed him several times in the ribs but was unable to get a full swing in the confined space.

Leaning across him she grabbed the shotgun by the barrel and slammed the butt against the back of his neck.

"Don't you move, you motherfucker, or I'll splatter you all over this room." What little fight there still was left him. He moaned loudly. "Shut the fuck up or I'll blow your balls off." She had managed to maneuver the barrel of the gun so it rested sharply, painfully against his balls.

He was pretty sure this lovely girl would do just what she was threatening so he quieted.

"I didn't miss the gun you have in your pants pocket. Pull it out and push it away. Then empty all your pockets," she told him.

Every movement was painful for him as a result of her blows and the barrel of the gun on his balls, but he managed to do as she directed him.

The pistol turned out to be a small Smith & Wesson .45 caliber one of the types her self-defense instructors had schooled her in handling. She had no trouble finding the safety. She quietly set the shotgun down and chambered a round. "Lay still, motherfucker, or they'll find you here without your balls," she warned him as she trained the pistol on him while releasing her mother.