by Serefina

Part 1

Click - slap, Click - slap, Click - slap, Click - slap.

The distinctive sound of the hard tip on the heel, then the soft slap of the leather sole on the concrete sidewalk as a long-legged woman in a short skirt and corseted dress shirt made her way from a large car with blacked out windows up to the entrance of an apartment building. Her pumps were tall enough to be suggestive, but not tacky, and her clothes bordered on that grey area between well-disguised-super-hero and stuck-in-the-eighties-style.

Needless to say, she attracted attention.

Perhaps not as much as the girls she accompanied. But her position of bodyguard to private 'entertainers' meant she was always surrounded by women more than willing to make the short walk from their limo to the front doors of the converted-warehouse apartment building barely dressed at all.

A moment of inward reflection made Taryn wonder why girls like these had their own special 'style' that made it obvious that they were available for money, but that most of those who saw them pass would know they could never afford them. It might have been the nearly see-through or metallic material of their short slip dresses, or the particular style of platform heels, or maybe the way they breezed past the studs most girls would fawn over, with no indication of ever even seeing the boys slouching at the doorways. Whatever it was, they had it and she didn't, but that didn't matter to her.

Once inside the apartment building she escorted her current pair of charges up to the client, and after her security sweep was done she accepted an envelope full of cash to pay for the time the client had booked She walked back outside to the escort service's car, handing the envelope to the driver and double checking the pick-up time before he pulled away from the kerb.

Turning her back to the street, Taryn headed back inside, retiring to the lobby area where the client’s security agents were waiting while their charges enjoyed themselves. A few dry smiles and professional pleasantries were exchanged before Taryn fed a newspaper dispenser with a dollar coin and sat down to read the days news while the 'girls' fucked the brains out of another bored rich man.

'Ruby-Jade Cat-Burglar Strikes Again" screamed the front page, followed by the 'Five robberies in four weeks' subheading. The story went on to say the local police had asked for federal assistance in apprehending the brazen professional thief, who had been stealing red and green gem stones. The truth was that the thief had been taking ruby, jade, and sapphire, but the police had decided that the last of the precious stones would be their way to identify the real thief from the cranks that wrote in claiming responsibility. Apart from the officers assigned directly to the case, not even the rest of the police force knew about the sapphires. The insurance companies and the victims had been willing to keep the details quiet, leaving only one other person who knew of every detail of the crimes. And according to the news report, that person wasn't telling. At least, it hadn't been leaked yet.

Folding her paper and looking at the time on her cell phone's display, Taryn shifted herself in the soft lounge chair, smiling dryly when one of her counterparts spoke up suggestively.

"They'll be busy for a while yet."

His fellows sniggered, making Taryn feel just a little uncomfortable, like she'd just been privy to a trio of jocks' locker room conversation. More grossed out then offended. She wouldn't feel too bad about getting pass these oafs and lifting some of the jewelry she'd seen during her security sweep. 'It's been the perfect cover' she mused silently. Deliver high class prostitutes to client, do security sweep, looking out for the safes, security systems and personnel for herself, then coming back and robbing them blind at a date just later enough to avoid the girls being linked to her own after hours activity.

'Let's see if they've let out any of the other details' Taryn thought, opening the paper back out. Reading on she saw the same comments as every other story so far, lack of evidence, professional entry and exit, no finger prints and not enough DNA for identification yet. The only unusual detail that had been let slip had referred to the unusual traces of paint found on some surfaces. 'Wonder when they'll figure that out?' Taryn thought.

At just after 2am, Taryn made her way across the roof of the building next door to the former warehouse she'd waited in earlier that night. She'd only just had enough time after dropping her charges off to get home, kit up and get back to her target.

She’d decided it was time to risk association between the robberies and the girls, just so that if anyone had linked the two, tonight’s little caper would upset any profile being written. "God, thought I'd get arrested just getting here" she whispered to herself.

Taryn had done the first of these burglaries on a whim, and found that not only was she good at it, but it had fulfilled a need she'd been trying to deal with for years.

It had started when she'd been dared to crowd-surf naked across the mosh pit at a concert. As an adventurous and very drunk nineteen year old she hadn't thought of the consequences, and had stripped off and allowed her friends to lift her up on to the waiting sea of hands.

The constant groping from the fans had sobered her up, making her suddenly realise how vulnerable she was. Being dumped back down to the ground on the far side of the mosh pit, away from both her friends and her clothes, had only made things worse. Grabbed and fondled, she was a nervous wreck when she got back to her friends, who all acted as if the whole thing was a big laugh.

In her bed that night, and for many nights since, she'd dreamed of being caught out in the world naked again, often waking up to find the fingers of one hand half inside herself, and on the brink of orgasm. For a long time she'd thought she was mad, not believing she was getting off on dreams of being forced to be naked in public.

Now that she was older, nearly twenty nine, and a lot more sure of herself and who she was as a person, she felt comfortable in exploring the deeper desires she'd harbored. That confidence, along with several years of psychotherapy, and her martial arts and security service training, had given her the will power to try more adventurous activities, such as her current pursuit. Being seen in the company of the girls she escorted, and having a healthy love of her own body, Taryn worked hard to keep in shape. She was slightly above average height, but not tall enough to be a model. She'd been blessed with reasonably long legs, and a nicely rounded ass, but had never been happy with her less than b-cup breasts.

She'd balanced out her figure with a pair of firm d-cups when she was twenty four, once she could finally afford the quality of surgery she desired, and had taken out membership at a gym that was close to her work. Many hours had been spent in the gym and with her martial arts trainer, keeping her toned and ready for action, both physical activities helping her to quickly adjust her body's movements and adapt to her new center of balance.

Taryn liked to think while she worked out at the gym. It was during one of her longer sessions sweating on the running machine that she'd wondered what it would be like to jog naked, feeling the air cool her as she worked off the calories. It probably didn't help that the AC had been on the fritz in the gym that day, leaving her T-shirt sweat soaked and clinging to her skin.

During the middle of one hot sleepless night two years ago she'd found herself out running along the bike paths and jogging tracks that weaved in and around the outer fringe suburb she called home, and she had realised she could satisfy her curiosity there and then. She'd freed her full breasts to bounce about, peeling her tight runner's bra over her head as she slowed. A few hopping steps as she danced about and she'd pushed the bike shorts she ran in down her legs and over her shoes, with both garments quickly shoved under the first convenient bush and left behind. After a few minutes of running Taryn had realised she was far more uncomfortable with the way her breasts bounced about than she was about being naked as she ran through the tree lined pathways and parks of her town. Several minutes of varying her stride helped her find a gait that minimised the uncomfortable part of her breast's bounce as much as practical and still carried her along at a good pace.

Now the soft mounds could swing up and about, still moving a lot, but with out any of the harsh jarring as her skin stretched towards its limits at the end of each stride. She found herself running on her toes, the heels of her jogging shoes not really touching the ground, each long stride made with a gentle roll of her shapely hips above the well toned legs that carried her along for nearly an hour on her favorite route that circled the suburb rather than cutting through or doubling back.

When she finally got home she'd ended up giggling as she pulled her house key from inside the sock on her right foot, and realised she'd forgotten to go back to the place where she'd stopped to strip to pick up her running gear. "Oh well, just have to go get them tomorrow night."

That week's heatwave had left the night air warm enough for her to risk slipping out of her home late the next night, this time leaving her house naked and running her route backwards, stopping to pull the two items of clothing out from where they were still hidden, and then making her way home with them carried in her hands. She hadn't felt the slightest urge to put them on.

So had begun her first tentative naked field trips. Soon she wasn't bothering to dress at all at home, and quickly got in to a regular pattern of nude jogging more often than in her running clothes, usually heading out along her favorite route for the best part of an hour, starting at 2 or 3 am. She was glad she was assigned to a nearly permanent afternoon shift, protecting the working girls of one of the most exclusive services in the country.

Soon though, the naked runs weren't exciting enough alone. When she'd first started jogging, she'd quickly learnt that anything you carry soon becomes a nuisance, so by the time she started leaving the house without her running clothes every time, she'd only ever carry her cell phone and spare house key. And those two items began to irritate her once she was comfortable with the clothing-less state of her health regimen.

The cell phone was the first thing she left behind, the next was her jewelry. Then she started locking her house and carrying the key tucked in her sock and then in her mouth, before deciding that would be bad if she was ever tackled by anyone.

She even tried wrapping the key in a fresh condom and slipping it inside herself, only to find that it either dug into her sex or she'd get too excited and it would fall out along the run. Finally, she settled on hiding the key in her garden. That lasted about two weeks, until she accidentally prickled herself on a branch collecting the key one night. During those two weeks, she'd bought a new pair of lightweight running shoes, and had consigned her running socks to the washing hamper, where they had stayed. Ultimately she decided, 'Stuff it, I'll just leave the back door unlocked'.

So now she ran as nude as she could be. No clothes to cover her, no cell phone to call for help, no jewelry to lose if she got mugged, and no I.D. If she was attacked and left for dead the authorities could deal with it.

She even tried running barefoot, completely, utterly naked. That lasted only one night, her feet suffering for it. She'd known it might hurt, and would have regretted not trying, but now she had accepted that for exercise the shoes were necessary, and the hair-tie holding her locks out of her eyes was convenient.

So she had developed a routine, integrating her runs in to her weekly routine. As the weather chilled into Autumn she felt the cool air enjoyable, nearly as much as the first time it had rained while she ran, sluicing away the sweat of her exertion. Once or twice when it had been raining she tried running without her shoes again, this time finding that while the ground was softer under her bare toes along the dirt and grass sections of the local running paths, wherever she ran on tarmac or concrete the skin of her feet would chafe.

Running in the drizzle or light rain had been enjoyable, her skin had felt alive with sensations as the wind and water had moved across her body. When she thought about it after the fact, running naked during the storms of winter and spring may not have been the best of ideas.

Her first raging storm of winter had been a real suprise. Taryn had gotten home from work a little after 2 am, with large droplets of rain from the coming storm strumming the roof of her battered old Dodge pick-up truck like a blend of marching and jazz beats on a snare drum. The wind had whipped about her legs and fluttered her business skirt, opening up the pleat at the rear that would allow her freedom of movement if she needed to muscle the girls out of any situation.

Her fitted shirt quickly got covered in a pattern of wet splotches as she hurried from the truck to her front door. She'd only turned on the hall lights as she walked to her laundry and stripped of her work clothes and underthings, momentarily enjoying striding around her home in nothing more than high heels and lace top stockings.

In the time it took her to strip down, wander over and slide open the doors to her covered rear deck, and then to make herself a warm cup of soup to sip while sitting out on the deck, the main body of the storm had moved in, dark clouds and heavy rain dimming the moonlight and cutting down the usual night time reflection of the street lamps off the clouds.

Taryn considered not going for the run she'd planned for that night, the chilly air had raised goosebumps across her skin, and left her nipples hard, in equal measures from the cold as from the excitement at running through the stormy weather.

Once she'd finished the soup, Taryn had lifted one leg up at a time to slip off her heels and carefully peeled her stockings off, the sticky inner surface under the lace tops leaving little marks around her legs for a few minutes as she began to stretch out the day's tension.

The cold air and dark sky had made her think of skipping that nights run until the first bright flash of lightning and distant roll of thunder had charged her with excitement. She'd been wondering for a while what running through a real storm would be like. She had almost run through her house, putting her heels away, turning off the lights, and had dashed out across the decking, leaving the sliding doors wide open, and only remembering her running shoes when her bare feet touched the stone path in her yard and she slipped a little as she reached the side gate.

“Stuff it!” she'd muttered decisively. The rain had already begun to coat her skin and matte down her hair. Droplets of rain were already flowing down her shoulders and dripping from the underside of her nipples and breasts as she used the gate and walked the length of her driveway to her street.

Another distant lightning flash lit her and the street up, and she was off and running before the air rumbled with the thunder that followed. Bare feet striding across the grassy nature strip between the street and path, leaving little impressions that the rain soon washed away.

Taryn had had to blink regularly to wash the rain out of her eyes, and had to try not to giggle from the sensations of the storm over her exposed skin, but several minutes and half a mile later, she was into her routine. The effort of running warmed her from inside and got her blood flowing, the rain and sweat evaporating from her body, leaving a few wisps of steamy vapour following her and dripping from her hair as her long blonde locks darkened from the rain and bounced about with each stride or gust of wind.

She nearly stumbled several times on slippery sections of the paths, each time recovering with a giggle and flush of excitement. Then, in the distance, she heard the siren of a police car and the chill that ran through her had nothing to do with the cold wet weather. She listened as she ran, trying to figure out if the car was heading her way, relief flooding though her as the siren seemed to get quieter with the car heading away from her running path until it disappeared completely.

It was several minutes later, when she turned a corner of the path that led from the green space along a creek into a street she used to bridge into the next park and track, that Taryn came to a sudden stop, flinching and ducking behind a tree as the street lit up with the blue and red flashing lights of the police cruiser parked outside a house.

Taryn's large breasts had risen and fallen as she sucked in several quick breaths, hoping her pale skin hadn't been spotted through the rain by the pair of officers knocking on the door to a house. She'd been luckier than she ever known, because while the tree hid most of her body, if the officers had looked her way in the dark, the occasional lighting flashes would easily have shown them where her butt stuck out past the tree on one side, and breasts on the other, along with the cloud of vapour each time she exhaled.

Her skin had also been lit up when the porch light came on over the officers, but their attention was on the occupant, and not the naked woman in the street several doors down. The moment they went inside Taryn had run back the way she'd came, the adrenalin at the risk of being caught changing to exhilaration.

A few minutes later and she'd jogged her way around through a few of the streets she usually avoided, mainly because of a small group of shops and a set of traffic lights. The only other time she'd nearly been caught out running around her town naked was when she'd used these same streets and had stopped to wait for the lights to change, only to end up diving for cover in a shop doorway as a truck had rumbled up and through the intersection.

This time though, she'd just checked for traffic and dashed across the intersection, and was soon back on her regular path and heading back towards her own home. Between her and it there were still several winding paths, including one fairly steep hill, and it was this that had really gotten her in to trouble during this stormy night.

Taryn had reached the top of the hill using the well-worn dirt running track without incident, but when she started down the other side she found the driving rain coming almost straight at her and this made it even harder to see. She'd yelped in surprise when her feet had slipped out from under her on a patch of grass, she landed square on her butt in a large muddy puddle, and then continued slipping and sliding straight down the mud and grass of the hillside towards the road that wound around the hill.

She was bruised but not injured as she slid to a stop a few meters back from the usually well traveled road, and lay there on her back for a moment to catch her breath again, hoping that no one had heard her squeals and yelps as she'd bounced down the slippery ground. The rain washed over her outstretched body, cleaning some of the mud off of her, before she sat up, looked up at the hill, laughed at her own stupidity, and got back on her feet.

Taryn had walked for a minute or so while her muscles recovered, intending to walk the rest of the way home. She had begun to carefully jog the last half mile or so when the storm suddenly turned much heavier and the wind had picked up, blowing the rain hard against her skin. She was laughing in the face of it's harshness when she finally made it home and walked down her driveway, closed her gate behind her, left the sliding doors to the deck wide open to enjoy the sound of the storm, and barely glanced at the clock on her microwave as she passed the kitchen on her way to shower to clean the last of the mud off and wash the leaves and sticks from her hair.

Her normal run had taken nearly twice as long as usual. She'd expected to get home just before 4 am, but it was now already half past four, and a sudden sense of relief at not being caught by the first of the early morning workers heading out had swept through her.

Taryn remembered that morning fondly, both for the run through the storm, as well as the orgasm she given herself under the hot shower.

It was during another storm run, after a day when she'd had to deal with an aggressive customer who had injured one of the girls, that she came up with the idea of teaching him a lesson by stealing the collection of expensive stones he'd had on display in his apartment.

First doing the break-ins naked, and then later covered in stealth-shaded body-paint, well, that had just added to the thrill.

Coming back to now, looking down at herself, Taryn was proud of the condition and shape of her body. Given she was approaching thirty, she felt being able to run for anything up to two hours a night, and work out three times a week, and repeatedly being asked to consider moving over to the other side of her employer's company, was probably a complement to her health and figure.

"If only my boss could see me now" she thought aloud. Tying off one end of her grappling rope, she stood and faced the night, ready to risk everything for another thrilling sexual high. After leaving the girls at work and racing home, she'd showered and exfoliated before spraying her naked body with the dark, camouflage coloured body paints she used on nights like this. The only clothes she wore now were a pair of mountain climber's shoes, and a hair clip, the same as she worn as she'd driven across the city in her beat up old pickup that was nondescript enough to go unnoticed in the streets below.

Not only was Taryn the 'Ruby Jade Cat-burglar', she was the 'Nude Ruby Jade Cat-burglar'.

End of part 1.