Before starting it is important to note that many of the names used by this author are the same from story to story. This does not mean that they are the continuation of another story. It is just easier for me to type certain words. Jenny, Jenn, Joe, Stephanie, Steph, etc. are just easier for me to type than others. That is why so many of these stories are using the same names. Read the blog and you may also understand why many of my descriptions of "Jenny" are the same. She is somewhat of my fantasy recently.
Jenny was somewhat excited and somewhat fearful; thankful of finally being able to talk the family into a much needed vacation away from their busy life, and somewhat fearful or anxious about being in another unusual place. A few years ago, they had taken a trip through Europe, staying at the Hostels in France, Spain, Italy and Portugal. It was nice for their daughter Stephanie, because she made lots of friends. She and her husband, Joe, had met some fascinating people from around the world.
Somebody had recommended a primitive setting in Canada. They had never been camping there before, and the Peace River, McKenzie River, and the Great Slave Lake had been recommended.
Jenny had Goggled the area looking for more information. She had found a bush pilot that would fly them into a remote area, leave them there for a couple of weeks, and fly them back out at a prearranged time. Their fourteen-year-old daughter, Stephanie, was not excited about it. She would be away from all her friends for a whole week. There was questionable television reception, cell phone coverage and no teenage entertainment.
Jenny felt this would be an ideal situation. She and her daughter could go out on longer jogs a couple of times a day. Stephanie would not be losing out on her time away from the cross country team summer voluntary workouts. Jenny ran that much anyway, and it would be nice to do it with her daughter.
The small single engine plane drifted down out of the clouds. Suddenly they were above the lake, and the pontoons on the plane smacked and bounced a couple of times before gliding across the mirrored surface. The pilot turned and headed towards the shore. They stopped in a few feet of water, and were forced to wade through the ice-cold water with their supplies.
The cabin was exquisite. It was a cedar log cabin about 24 feet on a side with about twelve feet to the eave. There was a large front porch. Once inside, Stephanie squealed and almost ran up the ladder. The main floor had a long double height living and dining area. Behind the living area, were the bath, kitchen and main bedroom. Above the kitchen/bath/bed area was a loft with a ladder to it. Stephanie had her own special bedroom overlooking the living area. She could peek over the edge and see the television, and had a great view through the two-story window out onto the lake and mountains beyond. Maybe the week wouldn't be so bad after all. They had their own canoe to go out on the lake or up and down the adjoining river.
Some distance away from the main cabin, was another smaller building up on stilts. The legs were actually aluminum poles. The main structure of the building was sawn cedar shingle siding and roof. The roof was a 12/12 pitch, with small windows. There was a thin rope ladder going up through a hole in the floor. The strategy here was for a safe spot from the bears. In a life or death situation, the family could get up the ladder into the building that had a ladder that would not support the bears, and an opening that they could not pass through. This was the normal place to keep all food; away from the bears. But, if needed, it was also a place of refuge.
After a brief conversation with the pilot, he roared off, leaving them marooned for the next week. Everybody spent the rest of the day getting firewood and making plans. Jenny and Stephanie took off on a short jog of a couple of miles to scout the surrounding lake and edge of the river. Each had a small can of Bear rated pepper spray.
Both Jenny and her daughter had lumberjack boots that came up to just below their knees, with lumberjack socks that folded down over the tops. Both were wearing cut-off Levis. Jenny's was cut about mid thigh and not hemmed at the edge. Stephie's was cut to the crotch and the pockets had to be clipped to keep from hanging below the edge.
Both women had long reddish brown hair tied up behind them, freckled, but also tanned completions and the muscle tone of seasoned distance runners. Stephanie had not yet been ordered to wear a bra, and was somewhat oblivious of her jiggling at a slow jog. Her mother wore a thin, transparent bra made of the same nude stretch fabric that panty hose is made of. Both women had low cut snug fitting t-shirts.
They jogged lazily around the edge of the large lake, curious where it went. There were a couple more cabins like theirs spaced out around the lake. Soon, another small plane floated noiselessly out of the clouds and skimmed across the mirrored water. Neither of them could see around the trees where it stopped.
The summer sun started down behind the distant mountains, so Jenny felt it was time to start back. It took about an hour to get back to their campground. They walked the last few yards to cool off. Neither woman was exhausted, but they were both covered in a slight film of perspiration. Their thin t-shirts did nothing to conceal the contours or coloring of their long stemmed pink nipples that jiggled beneath their tight wet shirts. Jenny thought that her husband might still be out collecting firewood, and they could get changed before he got back.
Stephanie got to the door first, and opened it for her mother. Jenny went in, not expecting anybody to be there. When she got in and adjusted to the light, she could see that her husband was gagged and bound against the center column. His eyes were as big as saucers. He knew they were coming back, but was unable to warn them.
The small plane had landed and let out three huge black men and all of their hunting gear. Joe thought the men had landed in front of the wrong cabin, and had gone out to greet their new neighbors. The men waded ashore with their gear and guns. Once they landed, they pulled their guns and pushed Joe inside, where they lashed him to the center column. Once he was tied, they duct-taped his mouth shut.
Once Jenny walked into the room and saw her husband bound, she spun around and grabbed her daughter to run, but a huge black man with a shotgun appeared from outside to block their escape.
"What do you want with us?" Jenny stammered. Without answering, they were separated and bound with duct tape. Jenny was duct taped with her hands together above her head to another wood column in the living room facing her husband. Stephie was bound in the same position against the ladder to the loft.
"Well, guys, this hunting expedition looks like the best one yet!" the tallest, biggest one said. "You're right, Sammy. This time, for the same price, we got two women. This is much better than last time. That bush pilot and his hunting company are the best." One of the others said.
"Sammy." The look was familiar. The speech was familiar. His movement was familiar. Now she knew. Sammy was the small forward on their college basketball team. Did he recognize her? Should she say she knew him? Of course, they were all older, but he was just as athletic as ever; maybe even more. Would he remember that they had dated? Would he remember ... the other stuff... ?
Sammy, the apparent leader, smiled and rubbed his unshaven chin. "We come up here every so often on a hunting expedition; only we didn't come up here looking for animals. We pay quite a bit more looking for women. You two are the best ones we have run into yet, and we have the better part of the week before the pilot comes back. You two will get to paddle out of here on a canoe. It is hundreds of miles to the closest village. By then, we will be long gone. I'm afraid your husband probably won't make it; hunting accident, you know."
With that, he stood up and walked over to Stephanie. Sammy laid down his sawed-off shotgun on the table, and reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a 12" long ivory handled switch blade. When he pressed the button, the 12" blade, it took a nanosecond to click open and lock. The sound of the blade locking open reverberated off of the lacquered pine logs like a bal peen hammer on an anvil. He slid the gleaming point slowly between Stephanie's legs. Stephanie shut her eyes and groaned as her head twisted from side to side in terror. He turned the blade with the dull side against her and ran it slowly, exploringly up her torso. He used it to fondle one nipple. He flipped her nipple back and forth with the back of the blade several times. Steph had her eyes closed and was sobbing uncontrollably. She tried not to move, not realizing the sharp side of the blade was not against her.
Sammy turned the blade, and used it to pull her almost transparent shirt up away from her, and twisted; cutting a 2" slash in it. He pulled away and the shirt snapped back, leaving her left nipple protruding through the cut. Stephanie groaned again in humiliation, knowing that her father, mother, and several strange men would see her exposed.
Sammy reached out with his left hand and grab bed the fabric around her right nipple, pulled it away from her, and sliced about a 2" circle of fabric from the shirt before letting go. She was now exposed with both long stemmed pink nipples showing.
.... There is more of this story ...