No, this story is not about groupie sticking plaster casters at a glam rock concert getting the peter and testicle in plaster of Paris of a rock star they fucked. Nor is it about going backstage at a theatrical performance of a highly sexual play, although elements of such drama are in this story.

It was a simple house in the forest,"wing Pass ”. I had cycled to the end of a woodland trail, an old railing bed, and found a gate blocking the lead, presumably erected there by a property proprietor jealous of his concealment. The gate was flanked by barb telegram fencing that stretched away into the mixed hardwood George Herbert Walker Bush on both sides as far as the eye could see.

However, off to the right wing of the gate, nailed to a sapling, was the planetary house :"backstage walk ”. Intriguing. Mysterious. Beside the sapling was a trail : narrow, overgrown, and covered with autumn leaf, but a observable trail. Was this another way into the private property of the gate owner, a privileged opening night into a exceptional world buried oceanic abyss in the rolling hardwood vale ? Was the"whirl"like a mountain pass, a gap in the ridge of land covered with forest that ran away from the wheel lead on both sides, a whirl that led to something magical ?

It was too much for my rum nature. I mounted my wheel and set off on the trail through the forest. For a way, it ran parallel to the barbed conducting wire fencing along the valley. But the land began to rise, and I was forced off the bike and into a steep walk up the winding itinerary, slipping on the wet leaves, around tree and through gaps and over rock 'n' roll covered with moss.

A convoluted fall to the vale floor led me back to the fence again, and there on the other incline was a clench of footling buildings. Two cabins of rough planks, one larger than the other, faced each other at angle across a vapid open space. Behind the buildings were two earth-closet, also of raspy board. Set in the hill behind the construction were large-minded wooden planks that served as seats. It was a minuscule theatre in the woods.

Intrigued, I leaned my cycle against a tree and took picture of the buildings beyond the fencing with my cell phone. Then I heard the voices.

I froze, listening. Men's spokesperson, coming from up on the ridgepole beyond the buildings, getting louder. If I retreated up the ridge behind me, they would surely blemish me. I grabbed the bike and wheeled it into a cedarwood thicket near the fencing, laying it flatcar in the still needle on the soil. Crouching behind an old oak at the edge of the cedar copse, I could see the little edifice clearly.

Into the clearing came two men carrying between them a canvas bedding material like the ones used for wild rescue when somebody has broken a leg and needs to be carried out to safety. Strapped to the bedding material was a girl of about 18 with farseeing brownish wavy hair and dressed in a navy profane rails suit. She was asleep, or unconscious, intemperate to say which. She certainly was not moving, eyes closed, but I heard the occasional moan so I knew she was alive.

"Let's get her interior and stripped,"one said."I want to do her at to the lowest degree twice before the sun goes down and we have to take her backbone and dump her."

"Yeah, expert plan,"agreed the early one."We won't even wait for Bill to get back."He guffawed and started to unbrace the strap that held the girl to the litter.

I had just started to process the fact that there was another man out there, Bill, when a sprig snapped behind me. I whirled around to regain the gag of an automatic pistol pointed at my face. Behind the gun was the grizzle aspect of a man about my age, sixtyish, tall, well built and well dressed in outdoor habiliment, but serious in demeanour.

"Who are you and what are you doing here ?"he said calmly but loudly enough that the others heard. They set down the bedding material and walked toward the fence.

"Who's there, account ?"the one asked who wasn't going to wait for Bill.

"A snooper,"said Bill shortly and waved the gun barrelful at me, indicating I was to get up and go toward the fence where the others waited.

When I got there, I found the former two also had weapon pointed at me."Okay,"said Bill."starting talking. Who are you and why are you here ? ”.

I was scared and could see no point in trying to make up a story to bluff my way out."I'm a cyclist, out for some exercise, that's all,"I said, making eye contact with note so he could see how solemn I was."I saw that signal,"offstage Pass ”, and took the trail just to see where it led. I didn't mean to intrude. I was just scared when I heard you coming so I took cover."

"Why didn't you just keep riding when you heard us ?"one asked roughly.

It was a good head, and again I felt that silver dollar was the only way I was going to get out of this. I dug deep into my brain, took a breathing spell, and said,"Out here in the woods, away from prying eyes, I get turned on. My libido goes into overdrive. I have all these depraved and bacchanalian sex illusion about what I would do to a woman in a minuscule cabin like that."I nodded to the cabin across the fence.

Bill stared at me for a long mo, then lowered his artillery as he raised his eyebrow."Really ? ”, he said."And what, exactly, would you do to her ?"

I knew then that I was on the right track, so I kept on being reliable."Oh, anything I wanted, I guess. I'd tie her up and fuck her, then whip her tit and snatch, then fuck her again. I'd take mass of television so I could take in lot of good wanks when I got home."

"Why don't you do that, then ?"he asked.

"Practical problem,"I answered."I don't know anyone who would help me abduct her and I don't know what I would do with her afterward. I wouldn't want to kill her to keep out her up. It would be nice if she liked it and wanted to keep doing it, a variety of Mother Nature fuck bunny, but women aren't built like that these days. Feminism and all that crap."

The man who was going to hold back for Bill guffawed at that and tucked his weapon into his scoop. He was of medium height, 65 I'd conjecture, and somewhat fleshy. His bespectacled face below a bald pate was jowly and his paunch hung over his whack a bit. I learned later his name was Harold."A Mother Nature fuck bunny,"he repeated."I like that, pecker. I think this guy is OK."

The other man, slight of build and also balding with a gray trimmed beard, picked up on this."I don't know, Harold. Can we entrust this guy ? What do you conceive, Bill ?"

Bill looked at me carefully again."What's your figure ?"he asked.

"It's Phillip,"I said."I live over in Lyndhurst, and I'm a strike out college professor. I go out on the bike around the county because I have a philia precondition and have to exercise."I scuffed in the leaf a bit."Besides, I like riding the bike and I like to explore new places, hidden places, only this time I got myself in a jam."I looked up at billhook."What are you going to do with me ?"

Bill looked over at the other two. Harold nodded, a leer on his face. The other one with the face fungus frowned and shook his fountainhead slightly."Can we believe him ?"he asked.

Bill looked at me and back to Slim."I don't know,"he said slowly,"but he sounds like he could be one of us. But there's an easy way to get hold out. We have a gem here now, so let's get Phillip on camera doing her, fucking her and beating her tits. Then he can't go the bull without implicating himself, can he ?"

I found later they liked calling the girls they abducted"muffins ”. The muffin on the bedding started to moan and drift her eyes under the palpebra."She's coming out of the anaesthetic agent. We have to rush,"said Slim, whose name I found later was Alastair.

Bill turned to me."Are you in ?"he asked shortly with a direct stare.

"And if I don't do this ?"I asked, not really wanting to sleep with the answer.

"We'll have to deal with you, won't we ?"said Bill.

Harold on the former side of the fence scuffed the ground with his toe and said,"We've had to do it before, but it's no fun."Looking at me, he said,"If you really desire to do dirty stuff in the woods, show us. Now."

I nodded. I had all the answers and all the motif I needed .