Chapter 3: Rising Action
Hassan asked for Fatimah full name and her position.
"Fatimah Al-Jabbar, Bank Manager," She replied with her head held high.
"Well, Fatimah Al-Jabbar, Bank Manager, how about we make this a little more... interesting?" Hassan's voice was smooth, but his eyes were cold and calculating. He turned to Omar, "She's not budging. Let's see if she changes her mind after a little... persuasion."
Fatimah's breath hitched as she realized what he meant. Her eyes darted to Omar, who nodded, a malicious smile spreading across his face.
Hassan starts asking Fatimah a sexual question.
Hassan: "You're a married woman, aren't you, Fatimah?" He smirked, his eyes gleaming with a sick pleasure. "Ever had a man other than your husband?"
Fatima's cheeks flamed, but she held his gaze, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "No, I haven't."
Hassan laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the cold, stark room.
"Shame," he taunted, his gaze raking over her body. "Because I'm about to give you a taste of what you've been missing."
He reached out, his gloved hand grasping the edge of her hijab. Fatima's heart pounded in her chest as she clutched at the fabric, trying to stop him. "Don't," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
"Now describe to me about your body and what are you using underneath in detail" Hassan said with a wicked grin.
"A pencil skirt, a silk blouse, and a matching bra and panties," she replied, her voice steady but her heart pounding in her chest.
"Mmm, nice," Hassan said, his voice dripping with lust. "Now, give me more detail.
Tell me about the color, the fabric, everything," Hassan demanded, his voice a low growl.
Fatima hesitated, her cheeks burning with humiliation. But she knew better than to defy him further. "The blouse is a soft cream silk, the skirt is a deep navy wool blend, and the lingerie is a matching set of ivory lace."
"Now describe your bra and panties , Fatimah," Hassan insisted, his voice a low growl as he stepped closer, his breath hot on her neck.
Fatima's heart was pounding, her body trembling with a mix of fear and humiliation. She knew she had to comply, but her voice caught in her throat. "The bra is... it's a balconette style, the cups are lined with silk, and the straps are adjustable. The panties are high-waisted, with a lace trim around the legs."
Hassan chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down Fatima's spine.
"How about your tits, describe it in detail" Hassan asked, his eyes locked on hers, daring her to refuse.
Fatima's cheeks flamed red, her breath hitching as she hesitated. "They're... full," she managed to say, her voice barely audible.
Hassan smirked, "Full? Is that all you got, sweetheart? Come on, I want details."
Fatima's lips tightened, her hands clenching into fists. She knew she had to give him what he wanted, but the thought of describing her body in such a way made her want to vomit.
"They're... they're a D cup, I think.
They're soft and full, with dark nipples that turn hard when I'm cold or... aroused," Fatima said, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, the humiliation of the situation making her heart pound in her chest.
Hassan's eyes widened, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Fuck, that's hot. Now, tell me about your pussy. What's it like?"
Fatima's breath hitched, her body tensing at the vulgarity of his question. She could feel the tears stinging her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Instead, she drew in a deep breath, her voice steady as she forced the words out. "It's... it's shaved clean. It's smooth and soft, the lips full and... and pink."
Hassan's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a sick satisfaction. I can just imagine running my fingers over those smooth lips, feeling how wet you are. You're wet right now, aren't you, Fatimah?"
She shook her head, trying to deny it, but her body betrayed her.
Hassan asked another sexual question . " Ever been fucked by two men at once, Fatimah?"
Fatima's eyes widened in shock, her cheeks flaming with humiliation. "Wh-what? No, of course not," she stammered.
Hassan chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?" He turned to Omar, who had been watching the exchange with a smirk. "Hey, Omar, why don't you join us? Make it a party."
Omar's grin widened, and he stepped closer, his hands already unbuckling his belt.