Chapter 1

Sharon swore under her breath, brushing off the dirt from her white shorts and noting the green grass stain. Twenty-two year old Sharon couldn't think why for the life of her she had agreed to Lindsey accompanying her on the hike in the first place. Where Sharon was exhilarated by the outdoors, found peace and tranquillity in woodland, Lindsey was a city dweller whose idea of the outdoors amounted to little more than trudging around the fashion shops on a Saturday afternoon.

The ever fashion conscious Lindsey had actually put make-up on that morning before leaving for the hike. Her tight jeans, skimpy top and pink trainers more suited to a shopping trip than a day's hiking. In particular her pink trainers stood out in marked contrast to Sharon's strong walking boots.

Since setting out on the hike Lindsey had done little more than complain. First it had been too hot, then, once they reached the cool shade of the forest, it had been the bugs. As the morning passed into midday, Lindsey's constant grumbling was starting to wear thin. The more Lindsey complained about the pointlessness of the hike because there was nothing to see, except trees, the more determined Sharon became that they shouldn't turn back and just go home. Although Sharon had to concede, the hike had become pointless. With the constant racket Lindsey was making any chance of seeing any kind of wildlife was lost.

Then Lindsey went and turned her ankle. It wasn't bad; practically nothing in fact, but it looked like that was the end of their day out. With the fuss Lindsey was making, you would have been forgiven for thinking she had broken her ankle. Sharon suggested she bathe her foot in the small stream down in the deep cutting below. She didn't feel charitable enough to accompany Lindsey down to the stream; she was silently fuming with anger and instead made the excuse of staying up top with their two small backpacks while Lindsey tended her own ankle.

Lindsey had been gone no more than five minutes before she started wailing for Sharon to come down. With one pack on her back and the other in her hand, Sharon slipped as she picked her way down, landing firmly on her bottom. She inspected the green stain once more before calling down to Lindsey to come out. She couldn't understand why Lindsey was hiding out of sight.

"Where are you?" She called down.

"I-I'm down here!" Lindsey answered shakily.

"Well come out where I can see you."

"I can't," Lindsey wailed.

Sharon took a deep breath, holding her tongue as she carefully picked her way down the incline. A stone slipped under her foot and Sharon instinctively leaned back, bracing herself for the slide. She recovered from both the fright and the slip unscathed, managing to remain upright this time. Lindsey had made the journey down on her behind and Sharon followed her example, lowering herself down and stretching her long slender legs out in front of her. She manoeuvred herself downward; calling out to Lindsey again as she gingerly picked her way down the slope.

Lindsey responded, she sounded scared and still remained out of sight. Sharon judged her friend to be hidden behind a stony outcrop and angled her journey to cut out the obstruction. Nearing the bottom, the angle of the outcrop became less acute and as Sharon turned her attention from the path to survey the newly revealed area she was immediately confronted by a most startling and terrifying scene.

Lindsey stood bolt upright, beneath her dark hair her big brown eyes bulged wide with fear. Across her mouth was a hand, a dirty hand that pressed her back to the tall body of the man behind her. Sharon took in the sight of the wicked looking knife he held at her throat, his ill-kept greasy long hair falling limp around his shoulders. He grinned back at her with a smile that was full of malicious intent. Before Sharon could think or speak, a small cascade of loose stones and dirt rolled down the path behind her. She turned to look up and found herself staring up at two men picking their way down toward her. A loud whoop reverberated around the gully as Sharon looked up at them.

Two men, one heavier set than his friend, climbed tentatively down behind her. The slimmer of the two was nearest her. He had close cropped fair hair and an unshaven face. A gold ring pierced through the side of his nose glinted in the sunlight, but it was the twin track of scar tissue running down the side of his face that caught her attention. Two parallel lines of white that stretched from the top of his ear to the side of his chin, lending him a mean and formidable look. Sharon backed away.

Her immediate reaction was to take flight. And as Sharon swung her head around quickly, looking for options, she found herself looking at yet a fourth man, downstream of her current position, with a big drooping moustache running down either side of his mouth, wearing filthy denim jeans and heavy boots. His big muscular arms were covered in tattoo's and Sharon's heart sank as she realised escape was impossible. Her eyes nervously cycled between the three groups of men. As those behind her were nearest, she continued down to the bottom of the gully.

"What do you want?" She said at last, with more confidence than she actually felt.

"What do we want?" Scar-face climbing down behind her shouted with laughter. "She wants to know what we want — we've got what we want — you!"

The three men closed in on Sharon as though she were a dangerous animal, carefully picking their way towards her, watching her warily in case she should suddenly try to bolt. Indeed Sharon watched for just such an opportunity, knowing in advance that it wouldn't present itself. Scar-face reached her first and grabbed her by the arm.

"Don't touch me!" She yelled, wrenching her arm free.

"Oh I'll do more than touch you if you don't behave yourself." He said, lunging for her again.

"What do you want with us — let us go!" Sharon shouted, twisting herself around in an attempt to free herself as his hand closed painfully around her slim arm. "My friend's been hurt, she needs a doctor."

"I'll be all the doctor she needs." Replied the heavier set man, his baldhead revealed a big roll of fat at the base of his neck and Sharon watched in disgust as he grasped the front of his trousers and jerked his groin. "Know what I mean? Now you just follow my friend down there and don't try anything clever."

"Where are you taking us — what do you want with us?" Lindsey wailed as the knifeman pushed her forward.

"You'll find out soon enough, now get a move on."

As Sharon turned to follow the lead of the great hulk of a man downstream; Scar-face beside her sidestepped and Sharon suddenly swung the backpack in a wide arc. The bag hit him, catching him off guard and Sharon was already running, dodging his bald companion as she tried to scramble back up the path that would take her to the top of the gully.

A strong hand suddenly grasped the back of her shorts. With a cry of frustrated disappointment, Sharon was hauled back down. The big man stood beside her, gripping her arm painfully.

"Okay, you've had your chance!"

"Don't mess with her!" Both Sharon and her bald-headed assailant turned to look at the heavily tattooed man leading the way. "Save the fun and games till we get back — unless you want to fuck with me."

Sharon's eyes rolled to the man whose thick stubby fingers held her wrist fast. He swore under his breath, giving Sharon's wrist an extra hard squeeze. "Well we can't let her be — she'll be gone the first chance she gets."

"Bind her arms to a branch — she won't get far then."

Scar-face found a stout looking stick and called to Greasy Hair for his knife. The blade spun slowly through the air and Scar-face caught it deftly by the handle. Picking up Lindsey's bag, the one Sharon had swung at him, he cut the straps off. Baldhead laid the stout branch across Sharon's neck and pulled her arms outwards along the length of the stick. When Scar-face had finished binding her arms with the two backpack straps, Sharon looked like she was bound for crucifixion with her arms spread wide from her body.

"The next stunt you pull will bring you a beating." The tattooed leader told Sharon, pointing a warning finger directly at her.

He moved off and Scar-face stepped after him. Baldhead stood directly in front of Sharon, looking her hard in the eyes. Suddenly he leaned forward and ran his tongue up the side of her face. As Sharon recoiled, his hands closed over her breasts and gave a squeeze.

"Nice titties them!" He told her, "You want to keep them that way; you just see that you look after me later on..."

Sharon stood before him frightened and helpless, arms spread wide as he groped her. He nodded his head, motioning her to follow Scar-face. She moved awkwardly as she stepped around him, carefully trying to balance and pick her way over the rocks along the gully floor without the use of her hands. Lindsey hobbled along behind Baldhead with the help of Greasy Hair.

They hadn't gone very far before Baldhead called out to Scar-face and told him to wait. Their leader glanced back as he walked on and Sharon followed, passing Scar-face as he waited for Baldhead to catch-up. "Look at her cute little ass in those shorts." Baldhead laughed, "It's like watching two pistons."

Sharon felt her face colouring up as she quickly pressed on while the two men chortled behind her. She could hear them muttering in lowered tones and felt the hair on the back of her neck rise when the two of them closed in on her from either side. They each took hold of an end of the stout stick and forced her to stop. "Don't make a sound." Scar-face cautioned as Baldhead waved Lindsey and Greasy Hair past.

Greasy Hair gave his two friends a knowing smile as he helped Lindsey over the stones. She looked at Sharon, her eyes full of concern as she made her way after the leader.

"Are you a natural blonde?" Baldhead suddenly asked her.

Sharon nodded her head, uncertain of where this was heading.

"So your pussy hairs match those on yer 'ed?"

She glanced nervously from one to the other.

"What do you say we take a look — make sure she's not lying to us?" Baldhead addressed Scar-face.

"Hey!" The man in charge suddenly shouted. "Quit fuckin' around and bring her on."

Sharon moved forward, anxious to escape the two men.

"Oh we'll bring her on..." Baldhead grumbled quietly to Scar-face. "I'll bet you he's planning on keeping the blonde bitch for himself and leaving us with the cripple."

"Stop y'bitchin." Scar-face told him, "You'll get your turn just like the rest of us."

"I fucking hope so — just look at that ass!"

The remainder of the march was slow and tedious, and for the main part was completed in silence. The small valley was long behind them when they eventually picked up a worn dirt track. At length they emerged from the trees to be confronted by a low ramshackle house of sorts. They passed in single file through a rickety old gate that hung by one hinge and through a long forgotten overgrown garden.

The door opened before they were halfway along the path leading to a house. A loud youth whooped and bounced about outside the door as the women were led to the house. The gang's leader stopped short of the doorway and pulled Sharon to one side as Lindsey was helped inside. He brushed her hair off her shoulder and let it fall down her back. His finger lifted her chin, turning her blue eyes to his face.

"You're a pretty little thing." He told her not unpleasantly. His tattooed arm dropped to her breast, his finger lingering before sweeping her blonde tresses aside. "Just do as you're told in there and I'll look after you — do you understand what I'm saying?"

Sharon nodded her head nervously, feeling his hand slowly close over her breast to cup it. He released her and quickly set about untying the straps binding her arms. As she stood waiting to be freed, the bouncing youth suddenly leapt off the porch.

"She got nice titties boss — let me 'ave a feel?" He wet his lips apprehensively, eyeing the leader keenly.

The man looked at Sharon, a small smile on his face as he nodded his head once, keeping his eyes locked on Sharon's. The youth snaked out a quick hand and grasped Sharon's breast hard. She stepped back, hissing with pain. "Get away from me you pervert!" She hollered.

"Nice titties." He grinned at her; and then slapped her hard across the face as his other hand shot forward to squeeze her other breast. Her senses reeled under the blow as she staggered back a step. Boss cuffed the youth across the head, kicking him hard as he tried to scramble into the house. He turned to Sharon... "Remember what I said and I'll see to it that you don't get treated too rough."

He freed her arms and ushered her ahead of him into the dim interior of the house where he herded her along a narrow hallway to a small room where Lindsey sat on a rickety old sofa. The door closed and they heard it lock as they were left alone. Lindsey started crying almost immediately. Ignoring her, Sharon headed straight for the boarded up window. The glass was still in place, behind it, on the outside, several planks had been nailed across the window. It was just possible to see through the few gaps between the boards. All that could be seen was overgrown garden and the trees beyond. She tried to open the window, but it was either stuck fast through age, or had been secured closed.

"What are you doing?" Lindsey whined.

"Shhh! I'm trying to find a way out of here." Sharon answered, moving quietly toward the door.

She pressed her ear to the door and heard voices beyond, they sounded excited. She grasped the handle firmly and slowly turned it as far as it would go before pulling the door. It didn't budge. Swearing under her breath, she turned back to the room, her eyes surveying the walls and ceiling for any possibilities. She swore again.

"What are they going to do with us?" Lindsey snivelled.

"I don't know." She lied. Lindsey knew, just as Sharon did, but it was better not to discuss it. "Whatever happens we must try to remain calm. Let them think we will go along with anything they want — if the opportunity arrives we have to be ready for it."

"What do you mean?"

"Run! The first chance you get. If it happens for you, don't think about me, just run like hell and get some help."

"I can't run with my ankle like this!" Lindsey protested.

"If you have the chance then you must — it's our only hope."

They heard the door being unlocked and both turned to look at it with varying degrees of fear on their faces. The door opened and Greasy Hair entered with two cups. He kicked the door shut behind him and walked across with the steaming cups, offering them each a cup.

"What is it?" Sharon asked suspiciously.

"Tea — thought you could use a drink, that's all."

"How do I know it's only tea?" Sharon retorted.

He took her cup back and slurped from it. "There — see, no poison. Not much point in bringing you back here just to poison you."

"But you could have drugged it!"

"Why?"

"Well..." Sharon shifted uncomfortably, glancing sideways at Lindsey, "To make us more compliant." She answered awkwardly without looking at him.

"Please..." Lindsey whined, "I want to go home."

"No fun in it if you're stoned." He replied, a gloating twinkle in his eye. His eyes travelled down from Sharon's face and she folded her arms defensively. "Why are you doing this to us — we haven't done you any harm?"

"Nope!" He agreed. "We just saw you out and thought we'd have a bit of fun, that's all."

"Well you've had your fun." Lindsey retorted, "Now let us go."

"But the fun hasn't started yet."

"Why — what are you going to do with us?"

A smile was his only answer as he headed for the door. Despite hearing the door lock, Sharon took it upon herself to check anyway. The door held fast, just as she knew it would. Keeping her ear pressed to the door, Lindsey stared as a frown creased Sharon's forehead.

"What is it?"

"Shhh!" Sharon waved at her.

Through the door she could hear what sounded like furniture being moved. She could also hear their voices, though it was impossible to pick out what was being said. She gave up and headed across to the old beaten up sofa on which Lindsey was perched resting her ankle.

"What's happening?" Lindsey's tone sounded more worried than the panicky wails she had been using before.

"I don't know — it sounds like they are moving furniture around."

"They're going to do things to us aren't they?" She said quietly, eyeing the cup in her hand.

Sharon nodded her head. By 'things' they both understood what was meant and Sharon saw no point in ducking from the truth, or building Lindsey's hopes up. She picked up her mug and drank deeply. If it was drugged, it might be a blessing. But she knew it wasn't, just like he said, they would make much better sport sober than they would doped.

She couldn't stop her mind from dwelling on what they would do. Would they simply come in and take turns at them, both of them? She couldn't see them taking her to another room where they would come in on her one at a time, while others took turns at Lindsey. It just didn't seem sordid enough somehow. Whatever it was that they were planning, she felt there was more thought to it than that. She tried to push the thoughts away from her mind as she sat, feeling her nerves tensing as the minutes passed by.

They heard feet trooping down the narrow hall outside and knew the time had come. Sharon squeezed Lindsey's hand. She didn't know how things were going to happen, just that they were about to commence; the excited tones outside bore testament to that. Lindsey started weeping and Sharon braced herself as the door opened.

"Out you come." Baldhead jerked his head through the door.

"Where are we going?" Sharon asked shakily without rising to her feet.

"Next door."

"We're happy where we are." Her voice was tight in her throat.

"And we'll be much happier when you're next door. Now get up or we'll help you up."

Reluctantly Sharon rose to her feet and helped Lindsey to stand. Without looking at either of the two men standing in the doorway, she assisted Lindsey to limp across to the door and out into the hall beyond. They were guided into another, much larger room. The curtains, such as they were, had been closed and room was lit by oil lamps. In the middle of the room stood two tall pairs of stepladders, a plank of wood bridged between the top of the two.

Lindsey's eyes flicked nervously from the ladders to the big old table with a dirty mattress resting on its top. The significance of the pair of 'A-frame' ladders was lost to her, but the mattress covered table held massive connotations to her. She stopped when they were told, leaning heavily on Sharon as they stood in the middle of the room. Her ankle was aching, but it was a minor distraction to all that was happening. Ahead of her, Boss lounged back in an old sofa, beside him sat Greasy Hair looking at the two of them with an intense gaze, whilst the youth bobbed about behind them like some erratic and over excited monkey.