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“Don’t turn around. Just hand me the money and I won’t have to hurt you.” Nick spoke calmly and quietly, pressing the muzzle of a revolver into the small of the woman’s back to make his point.

She froze. They always froze. “Hurry up,” Nick commanded, snapping his victim out of her shock. His carefully laid plans allowed for only a few minutes to get the money and get the hell out of there without getting caught. A police siren wailed in the distance and even though he knew they weren’t coming for him this time, his tension level rose perceptively. He forced himself to concentrate on his breathing and staying relaxed and focused. The cops weren’t going to arrest him just because he lost his shit at every little noise. He dug the gun harder into her back, and with a whimper she took the bills out of the ATM and held them up with shaking hands. He grabbed the cash and said, “The bag, too,” pulling her purse off of her shoulder. “Now you just keep standing right there and count to a hundred,” he ordered.

“One, two, three,” she began in a shaky voice. Nick tore out of there, shoving the gun and the twenty-dollar bills into his pocket as he ran. He rounded the corner into an alley, then slipped through an opening in the chain-link fence that surrounded the loading dock of an abandoned warehouse. He crouched down behind the crumbling concrete wall, hidden by darkness and debris, and listened for the sound of footsteps or voices. When he heard none, he took a deep breath and quickly unzipped his sweatshirt. Moving fast, he pulled a black backpack from behind a pile of rubble and quickly stuffed his hoodie into it. He shoved the purse into the backpack as well, and running his fingers through his hair, he put the backpack on and slipped through the shadows out a second opening in the fence.

Half a block to the west, the bars and clubs were packed and the night life was in full swing. Nick walked calmly and with purpose toward the music and the lights. In five minutes he had melted into the city’s sea of humanity, while less than two blocks east an angry blonde tried to give his description to the police, but had to admit that she “didn’t get a good look at the guy.”

Nick knew there were easier ways to make a few bucks, but few were as satisfying or half as exciting. Nothing got the adrenaline flowing like picking a victim, helping yourself to their stuff, all the while knowing you could get caught at any time. The first time he realized that he was in the clear, that he’d committed armed robbery and got away with it, he was both startled and amused to realize he was half-hard from the excitement of it all, a reaction he hadn’t expected but had come to crave. It wasn’t even about the money anymore.

The best nights were when, after disappearing into the crowd, he’d see a handful of uniformed cops walking around asking people if they’d seen a guy in a hooded sweatshirt come running through with a woman’s purse. Of course, no one had, but he had to hand it to them for at least trying. It was after his second or third robbery that one of the cops had approached him. His heart pounded and his mouth went dry as he was questioned and he imagined he could feel the stolen purse in his backpack burning him between his shoulder blades.

The officer’s blue eyes bored through his own and looked into his thoughts, but he didn’t look away. Without blinking, he replied, “I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary tonight,” which was only a half-lie. The officer thanked him and moved on, repeating his questions to a couple nearby. His erection strained against his jeans and he shuddered as the thrill coursed through him. He ducked into an alley and hid in the shadows behind a dumpster. He pulled out his cock and stroked it furiously until he came, leaning against the building with one arm and splattering his seed all over the dirty bricks.

No police were on the scene tonight, so he milled around in the crowd looking in store windows for awhile, letting the ebb and flow of the foot traffic carry him along. He brushed past people, bumping them slightly and smiling in apology. “Sorry,” he’d say, and a charge would course through him as he’d be forgiven time after time. The physical contact acted on him like a drug, sharpening his senses and making his nerve endings tingle. He never failed to get aroused by the post-robbery social interaction, and the more people he could pull unwittingly into his game, the hotter it made him. He walked around until he could stand it no more; only when he was fully erect and the need for release reached the point of pain would he slip into the subway and make his way home.

Nick let himself into the empty apartment and locked the door behind him. He crossed the small studio space and pulled the backpack open, dumping the contents onto the bed. He pulled everything out of the purse and emptied the wallet. Glassy-eyed, he ran his hands through the lot of it, arranging and rearranging the driver license, credit cards, and pictures of families and pets on top of the comforter. He picked up her hairbrush and pressed it to his lips, inhaling her scent. He rubbed it against his erection through his pants before placing it back on the bed.

Finally, when he had touched everything he had stolen and had it arranged the way he wanted it, he stripped slowly and seductively, dragging out his pleasure. He lay down on the bed and stretched naked in the middle of the night’s take. He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around his cock and replayed the images in his mind.

Give me the money…I don’t want to hurt you…count to a hundred…

He recalled how they always shuddered with his gun pressed into their backs. The women–always young, pretty women with expensive shoes and expensive bags. Women with shiny hair and slender waists, and manicured hands that trembled as they gave him what he wanted. Women with soft voices that whimpered as they surrendered to him and quivered with fear when they begged him not to hurt them.

Nick stroked his cock slowly, feeling strong and powerful as it pulsed hard and hot in his hand. He thought about how he was taking more than some cash or a few personal items. He took their security. They were going to think of him when they asked their building managers to change their locks and cut new keys for them. They were going to think of him when they called to cancel their credit cards. And they were going to think of him every time they walked past a cash machine.

He moaned as he milked the precum from his cock and used it to lube his fist. His excitement grew as he pictured a beautiful blonde with a smart, new bag approaching a well-lit ATM and shaking as she punched in her new PIN code. She’d tremble all over again as she took the cash, and then she’d look over her shoulder, feeling his presence and reliving the fear.

He could see her scared expression in his mind’s eye, as real as if she was in the room. He came with a grunt, shooting hot gobs of cum onto his smooth, bare chest, thinking of the sadness in her eyes as she walked away, willing her hands to shop shaking and her breathing to return to normal.