Pre Covid story, when movement restrictions did n't apply ... ... ..

…..

Part one of the story of a middle-aged, goodish married woman, who's world is tipped upside-down when her suburban vanilla cocoon is sliced wide open by the heartless gibe of cruel circumstances, casting her into an unavoidable morass of blackmail, abasement and turpitude.

The catalyst was one warm Summer Wednesday good morning not long after her 44th birthday.

It was then, for the first sentence ever, her solid being was wracked by what seemed like an endless drawing string of multiple orgasms, during the most tickle pink and intense sex seance of her life ……..

It was like a diabolic possession, and for three straightforward time of day she endured a marathon of mind-blowing, eye-rolling, toe-curling, almost continuous orgasmic delirium …. a succulent slice of seventh paradise right here on worldly concern ... .. and she loved it.

The trouble was, it was while she was being raped….

But this hadn't been an opportunistic, wickedness alley, wham-bam quickie at the hired hand of a knife wielding scumbag …… Oh no …….. She'd been singled out to be the belated victim in a train of engineer and well-planned abductions which had been plaguing the town for workweek. The mob's modus-operandi was well established and widely publicised, with all of the respective abductions of lone women having been from the tranquilize niche of various supermarket carparks in the encompassing daytime of late-morning.

But still, that's how and where she'd Chosen to park that fateful day…… far away from the store's entrance in an isolated area of parking-lot not covered by CCTV surveillance.

She was visibly shaking and could barely walk straight as she made her way back to her car, having purchased just a mere loaf of bread. The large white van hadn't been behind her lonely Henry Ford stress when she'd entered the store, but it was there now, seemingly untenanted and still. Her unsteady gait baulked as she got near, nervous now, her heart thumping hard in her chest and her external respiration becoming laboured and shallow. She surveyed the deserted panorama before taking the final twenty strides to her driver's room access.

But no-one appeared….. It was just her and the two vehicles in a sector of eerily silent seclusion.

As she took her final few strides, a finger public press of her remote caused a beep and a detent, and she hurriedly settled herself into the driver's bottom, slamming the door behind her before jabbing down on the locking button with her closed fist, then throwing the plastic-wrapped loaf onto the passenger fundament. She was safely in, and any danger had been resolutely and securely locked on the outside.

After she'd fumbled the key into the ignition, she automatically glanced in the rear-view mirror as she twisted the key, before fixing her gaze forwards to labour away…..

That's when she saw it ….. Just as she was about to unfreeze and miserable the hand-brake lever tumbler ……. A small, oblong, white piece of paper, no larger than the nominal head of a cigaret bundle, pasted onto her windscreen in her direct agate line of sight. The two lines of neat phraseology had been written in bold black letter ……

reer tire short two-dimensional

The miss-spell compelled her to read it three prison term before the significance sank in …. She couldn't driving force away with a dead insipid tyre, if indeed it was devoid of air. She took various abstruse breathing place before killing the railway locomotive, as an deluge compulsion to check the tire for herself gnawed at her sense of right and wrong …. driving away after been alerted to a unconditional Tyre was outrageous on too many levels ……. She was going to have to get out and tick it for herself….

……………



Once back outside in the unprotected open, and with her back to the big Stanford White van as she walked around to check her ass tire, the inevitable happened …..

Being jumped from behind and having a swatting hired hand clamp down onto her sass didn't engender the notion of threat she'd imagined it might. After all, the other cleaning woman who'd been taken had all resurfaced a few hours later, alert and fully in one piece. Sure, some had wealds on their wrists and ankles, and one had had her head shaved completely barefaced, but all were returned without any broken bones. It was the irregular masked man who'd suddenly appeared from nowhere and was brandishing a switch-blade a mere inch from her grimace who was the terror.

"You gon na behave ?"he growled from inside his masquerade, which she answered with a unrestrained nodding head of compliance.



With her car now in their self-possession, she found herself in the backbone of a van as part of a one minute, two vehicle convoy to an isolated and abandoned storage warehouse on the desolate outskirts of town.

They'd insisted she strip herself naked on the journey ….."If you don't want to drive your car menage naked,"they'd said,"Then you'd best put you kit in here for good keeping,"as she was handed a great paper bag. At least she'd be getting her car and clothes back …..

A deliberate psychological ploy.

…….

Inside the dim and grubby twisty cavern of the desolate warehouse into where she'd been frogmarched, and from the briefest of coup d'oeil as her eye-mask had been reset, there appeared to be about a 12 guys present, she told the police afterwards ….. furious immature men who'd had her surrounded, and seemed eager to have a musical composition of the action.

And stack of legal action there was ….

For three long hour, she was brutally and mercilessly gang-raped.

….

Several weeks later, and after the abduction and gang-rape of five Thomas More women, the police had identified and apprehended most of the gang. The ones they'd caught received a three year sentence, but with good behaviour, everyone knew they'd be back on the streets in 18 months ….

But they hadn't caught them all, and the look on ring-leader, a guile and vicious hood called Lars, was still at expectant ….. somewhere…. and had the personal details of all of the gang's victim ….

Yet spoiled ….. he had intimate knowledge of how all their victims had reacted whilst they'd been held imprisoned and in the throe of being thoroughly ‘ processed ’.

………….

She'd kept silent about her horrendous ordeal.

Of course, her husband knew, as did the squad of law enforcement who'd been involved in the lawsuit. Also, at the robust persuasion of a female police force sergeant, she'd attended a yoke of person-to-person sessions with a mental-trauma therapist. In hindsight she wished she hadn't, because the adult female had been creepy and unearthly and had unnerved her with all manner of very adumbrate questions. She'd felt abject shame when she was obliged to receipt and openly let in various sentence during her match of sessions that her ordeal had given cost increase to multiple and mind-blowing climax, the likes of which she'd never experienced before.….. and more provocatively, as the therapist had took hurting to point out, the likes of which she was unbelievable to ever experience again …. unless ……….



Everyone else knew aught of the repulsion she'd been through. She'd accounted for her few months of absence with the excuse of a vague but non-contagious medical requirement.

But after many workweek of self-imposed isolation, she was ready to re-engage with the world.

@ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @

One Wed evening, various months after her portentous abduction ……

Husband to wife,"You sure you'll be OK ? You haven't been out on one of your girly dark since, you know ….."

wife to husband,"I've been quite looking forwards to it, if you really must know …. And you don't have to worry, ‘ cos I'll be with my friends."

hubby to married woman,"Yeah, I know …. But I wish you wouldn't go dressed like that…"

Wife to husband,"It's because I want to feel ‘ normal'again. None of the female child know about the …. you know …. and they always like to dress up nice for their dark out."

hubby to wife,"Yeah, but that fit makes you take care a bit tinny and slutty if you ask me….. you'll be a magnet for unhealthy attention."

Wife to husband,"fountainhead then, you'd best not wait up …… I might be late …."

…….

She wasn't unduly belated that first night … in fact it was just after 11pm.

But two nights later, come Fri, when she went out again, she'd announced to her hubby she'd almost certainly be much later this time.

"Another girly nighttime out so soon ?"the married man had asked.

"Not really, not tonight."

"What you got planned, then ?"

"To be fair, tonight's jaunt is none of your god-damn business…"

‘'’'’'’'’'

You see, something had happened on that Wednesday girly nighttime out, and it was all because of their sensible plan. The small group of women had decided in advance to buy their own drunkenness, thereby eliminating any incriminate pressure for anyone to"keep up"with the more enthusiastic drinkers in their ranks ….

And it was on a solo head trip to the bar to buy her third wine when the big guy had eased along-side her and spoke …..

"Girls night out on the town, is it ?"he'd asked.

"Yep,"she replied, civil but curt. She'd no intent of starting a conversation with this hulking and slightly intimidating oaf.

"So ….. is it a extra treat for you, or a kickshaw for one of the others ?"

"Just a night out,"was the myopic excuse she could believe of to say as she picked up her wide glass and turned towards her comrade. This guy was big and arrogant and quite a bit scary and she was nervous to get out of his face.

"Well, I know exactly how I'd treat someone like you, and I bet you'd hate it and get it on it."

His choice of lyric caused her to glance up at his contemptuous smirk, giving her a shake of anxious horror. But there was no denying his overbearing and brazen atmosphere had caused a flush of goose-bumps to ripple and ruffle the fine, short whisker on the cover of her neck.

She scurried back to her booster without responding.

"What was that all about ?"one of them asked, having noted their brief exchange of words.

"Worst pick-up spiel ever,"she replied, having sat down and taken a boastfully gulp of her wine.

"You know who that is, though, don't you ?"

"I haven't a cue, former than he's an over-sized, smart-ass fuckwit."

"That's Lars. They recon he was the leader of that there crowd who were abducting women a while back, but the fuzz weren't able to pin anything on him."

She couldn't stop herself from glancing over at the bar to where he'd been standing, but he was gone.

"They recon the cops couldn't get him ‘ cos he's got some sort of dirt on a magistrate,"one of the other lady friend chipped in.

"Yeah, they say he'd raped the honker wife. He didn't know who she was at 1st, but he's got movie of her having the fourth dimension of her life on the end of his prick, and it's his ace carte which keeps the law off his back."said another.

"And there's rumours going around she willingly went back a few Sir Thomas More times for second helping,"another eagerly added.

"Sounds like bull to me,"she said.

"No, it's true, honest. somebody said that two or three others went out to get themselves a twain o'Sir Thomas More cycle with him, too, even after he'd formed his niggling gang."

"How could any woman do that to themselves ? It's just too obstinate for words,"she said.

"He wasn't here long and I just saw him leave …. I'm surprised he even called in ….. He normally only comes in on Fridays."

"And just exactly how do you know that ?"one of the sometime women asked.

"Never take care how I know …. It's a fact ….. he's in here every Friday night looking for a lone woman to pick up ….. and we all know what'll happen if they're stunned enough to go with him."

"Who'd be dolt enough to go off with that asshole ?"she asked.

"You'd be storm ….. hung like a donkey, see ? And he's got mates too. She'll get handed around like pass-the-parcel. It'd be a long, hard night for anyone who went with him."

"What an absolute incumbrance of old bollocks,"she said.

"No, it's true. He comes in here with a couple o'mates every Friday, and they always end up with taking some piteous sap woman away with ‘ em. Even if she says ‘ no ’, if she's been ***********ed, she's frogmarched out to their van, even if she's kicking and screaming."

"Now that really is bullshit. someone here would step in and halt them."she decrees.

For some rationality, this caused a chorus of laughter from the others.

"Haven't you been listening ? He's got a judge in his pocket, so the cops don't want anything to do with the pricking. Certainly no-one in here would make bold pinch a fingerbreadth against him …. In fact, if pushing came to jostle, they'd probably all read his side."

"Oh, do on ….. you're all talking a incumbrance of shit just to wind me up,"she says.

"Ok, smarty pants …. If you don't believe us, why don't you come back here Friday Night and see for yourself ? He's already shown an interest, and if he starts chatting you up, you'll end up in the back of his van and on your way to get acquainted with his mates, and you know what'll happen then."

"You're all sick,"she berated.

"Maybe we are, but bet you daren't come back on Friday to see for yourself. We all saw the way he was checking you out, so be warned, if you do do, you'll definitely be on the short-list for the back of his van, and that's a self-colored gold fact."

"I call it Irish bull,"she squawked, as her face flushed red.

"Come on Friday, then,"taunted one.

"Oh, she'll be here all right, you just watch over,"taunted another.

"Just looking at her sluice facial expression,"taunted yet another,"Of line she'll be here ……. guaranteed…."

…….

A couple of hour later, as she made her way outside to her awaiting cab, she glanced back over her shoulder at the brightly lit archway entrance to the pub …… Did ‘ he'really go there every Friday, looking to peck up some miserable, unsuspecting bitch for him and his rapist mates to do over ?

And was his command so completely embracing it would be foolhardy and otiose to even try challenge him as he frogmarched his chosen victim out through the room access, even if she was kicking and screaming ?

The aspect of observing such a show certainly oozed with perverse intrigue, but was it tempting decent to go see for herself ?

And could she calmly sit and watch him single-out and pick up a lone fair sex, knowing her fate would be gang-rape ?

Maybe ……. Maybe not ….. But she'd never dare challenge this fearsome thug, especially if the bull didn't want to have sex. She'd have to stay sober and exonerate headed, so as not to let protective instincts spur her into a reckless, probably dangerous, attempt at intervention.

But what if she unintentionally ‘ did'get more drinkable than she'd planned ?

What if one led to three, then six, then more, until she ended up being woozy and drunk …….

So drunk, she'd end up making herself well-heeled pickings for ‘ him'and his raping scumbag mates ?

No, she wouldn't want to play that on herself, no way ….… but surely there'd be no damage in calling in on Friday, just for a couple of drinks. Sure, she'd be on her own with no back-up, but if she only had a yoke of small wine-coloured ……. Well, it'd still be OK if she made them vauntingly vino …..

She wouldn't count the inaugural two or three, because they'd just be for warm up up. But after that, it would positively, strictly be only another two …… wellspring, maybe she could go for three, but that'd be the absolute limit……

OK, possibly four, but that would definitely be it …… She'd certainly be drunk enough by then, she mused ….., far enough gone to let that spew bastard go for four ……

In her dark muse, the deglutition tally had morphed into finger's breadth …… arrogant, perverse, probing digit …. gyrating and thrusting to make her sex wet……… and opened up, cook for gang-rape …

The sudden twinge in her loin made her flinch ………

End of part one…..