Bruce and Sarah
by obohobo
Chapter 1 The Burglar
"Clink." The almost inaudible sound woke Bruce. He listened in the darkness.
Light footsteps. Moving toward the studio. A door quietly opened. "Burglars."
Silently he rose from the bed without bothering to cover his naked frame and
crept to the already half open door. Peering through the gap he saw the glimmers
from a flashlight being used in the opposite room. There only seemed to be one.
Listening intently, he heard the gentle hiss of drawers being slowly opened.
"Still sounds as if there is only one of them," thought Bruce. Stealthily he
went to the bedroom window and peered at the road bathed in the orange glow of
the street lamps. No getaway car. Only a deserted street with a cat leisurely
crossing.
Returning to the door he opened it an inch or two more. Soft sounds still
emanated from the studio. Creeping and listening he made his way to the room. In
the weak light torchlight reflections he saw a small figure bent over his desk
rifling through some pots on the desk top. One contained a few coins. The
contents were removed to a bag. Bruce decided to risk a confrontation and
swiftly switched the light on.
"Fuck!" The voice was female, "Thought you were away." Bruce found himself
staring at the horrified face of a youngish girl. She stared, frozen at the
sight of the huge, naked man blocking the doorway. Chills ran down her spine.
How could she get away? Momentarily, she was too petrified to do anything,
suddenly her adrenaline kicked in. Turning on him she screamed, "Get out of the
way bastard! If you so much as touch me I'll sue you for assault! I'll have my
brief take you to the cleaners."
"Ha, ha, ha. What have we here then?" Bruce laughed at her without moving from
his position. "You ready to try and escape?"
"I'll scream 'rape' and they'll put you away for years." Eying the semi-flaccid
large cock hanging at the top of his legs she added, "I'll get away with it too
seeing how you are dressed. Now move. Get out of the way."
"No way. Not until I get all my stuff and have you ready to go to the police
station. Now are you going to call it a day - or rather a night and come
quietly?"
"No! Fuck off!"
Bruce moved to one side of the door and nearer to the thief. As he moved one
way, she moved the other. The doorway was clear. A quick dash and she would be
through and away. Or so she thought. Little did she know Bruce was an amateur
wrestler. He had given her the opportunity to run knowing she would never get
through. As she ran for freedom his foot tripped her and before she knew what
was happening her face was lying flat down on the carpet. She felt herself being
lifted and held face down horizontally across his chest. Held baby-like in his
strong arms.
"Put me down bastard!" Despite her struggles she was unable to free herself.
"Ha, ha, ha. What have we here now. Still want to sue me for assault? Well in
for a penny, in for a pound." Tossing the girl in the air just as fond parents
do a young child, the girl found herself heading for the ceiling and then being
caught again. Fortunately the old Georgian house built in the 1830's on the
outskirts of London had high ceilings. Five times he threw and caught the small
framed girl. Each time he laughed good humouredly at her predicament. The more
he laughed the angrier the girl became but she couldn't do anything to vent it
on him. Up she went yet again but this time he caught her under the armpits,
chucked her over one shoulder and carted her into the bedroom.
"Well let's see who we have here." Bruce unbuttoned the toggles on the girl's
hooded duffle coat. Thinking he might really rape her, she started struggling
again and verbally aimed as many insults at him as she could think of. It didn't
make very much difference. Bruce removed the coat as easily as a father would
remove it from a child in a tantrum. Still he continued to laugh and poke fun at
her.
Looking at the small, childlike girl lying face up on the bed he realised she
was older than her size indicated. Even in her Tee shirt and jeans he could see
she was well developed. However he didn't have long to contemplate. A booted
foot headed for his groin. Fortunately his wrestling training promoted a fast
reaction and the boot spent itself harmlessly hitting air. He caught the foot,
spun the girl over and planted two very heavy slaps on her arse, causing her to
cry out in pain.
Flipping her on to her back again he smiled as he said, "If you want to try
those tricks, expect to receive more punishment. What's your name?"
Sullenly the girl looked at him but kept her mouth shut.
"I asked a question." There was more menace in his tone this time.
Thweet! A gob of spit hit his face.
"So that's the way you want it girlie. Let's see what happens when your arse is
warmer." His voice lost it's good humour. Before she could react she found
herself draped over his thighs, with her jeans covered arse well exposed.
"Whop! Whop!" Bruce's hard hand fell with considerable force on the girl's rear.
"Stop! Stop! I'm Sarah Jacobson."
"Well Sarah Jacobson I'm Bruce Masterton and I think perhaps a good hiding might
be more beneficial than calling the police so I am going to give you what I
think you deserve. Sarah wriggled on his lap but his left hand held her firmly
while his right continued its painful collision courses with the seat of her
pants. Her wriggling had another effect though and one which she could feel
through even her clothing. Bruce had a growing erection. He tried to ignore it.
If she did complain to the authorities they might look favourably on him giving
her a hiding but not to rape. She however, could not ignore it. But the pain
overcame any other thoughts and soon she broke down into a crying, hysterical,
pleading bundle of humanity.
Bruce stopped. Gently he picked Sarah off his lap and sat her on the bed
alongside him. Through the tears streaming from her eyes she could see his cock.
It stood proudly, large and hard. Larger than any she had seen or had before.
Bruce reached into the drawer of a bedside cabinet, pulled out a handkerchief
and dried her eyes. He held her close and, while she was still wracked with
sobs, said and did nothing.
"What are you going to do with me?" Sarah asked when the crying had ceased. Then
added, "bastard," as an act of defiance.
"Nothing. You are free to go when you are ready." The statement surprised Sarah
but she wasn't about to hang around for him to change his mind. Jumping up and
then wincing as the muscles in her buttocks cried out with the pain from the
smacking, she gathered up her coat on fled from the room. Seconds later Bruce
heard the outer door lock click as she departed into the night.
