Chapter 1

As she came to, the first thing she noticed was that she couldn’t see and panic began to set in. Her wrists were bound behind her and there was a black burlap bag over her head. The floor beneath her rocked a little bit and she realized she was in the back of a moving vehicle. She opened her mouth to scream out but her mouth was also taped shut so all she managed was a muffled shriek.

“Guess she’s awake.”

“You think?”

Two male voices from the front of the van. She struggled with her bonds and kept screaming into her gag, trying to remember how she got here. She recalled her birthday party the day before, going to school today and starting her walk home. Her name was Jennifer Furly and she had just turned fifteen years old. She was the middle of three children and her parents had decided that she was old enough to make the walk from her middle school at the end of their rather urban street to home unsupervised.

It just so happened that the first day that school let out that Chris Jenkins, twenty one year old, rich aristocratic son and closet sexual predator, was driving down the street with his friend of the same age, Mark Shaker, whom shared his interest in girls of the underage persuasion. A life of luxury and zero accountability left him to have a corrupt mind, if not also overly gentlemanly. In his own narcissistic way he considered himself a true gentleman, but also one who should be able to have anything his heart desired. After all, he figured, what on this planet doesn’t have a price?

In any case, they scoped out, watched, waited, and finally pounced on the girl. A quick sliding of the van door, grabbing the girl and knocking her out with some chloroform was almost as easy as they had seen in the movies. As far as they could assume it was a clean get- away. Christ was certain not to speed away or any such theatrical escape while Mark tied her up. As long as they played it safe, there would be no worries.

She felt the vehicle come to a stop after what seemed like an eternity, and the two men shut off the van and exited. She hear the side door slide open and hands grabbed her roughly to pick her up. She wasn’t so naive as to not guess what was in store for her. Her body was only just starting to go through puberty and she’d had “the talk” with her parents. She wanted to scrape and cuss at them but her hands were still tied behind her back and she was still gagged.

She fell hard on a softish mattress and the burlap bag was ripped off her head, the light of the room they were in blinded her for a minute. The first of the two men she saw was rather hunky. King of a Titanic-era Leonardo DiCaprio. Skinny, but toned with short blonde hair and bangs just long enough to be bothersome, and an infectious, if not overconfident, grin.

She seemed to stare for a moment before looking at the other guy, also skinny but not as handsome, and a nose slightly too big for his face. Her panicky eyes shifted quickly between the two of them before the handsome one leaned forward to grab her attention, her body stiffening in response to his proximity.

He spoke softly, the calming gentleman, “Hello. I’d like to welcome you to your new home. My name is Chris and this is my partner Mark. I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here.”

He let that linger for a moment and smiled confidently, continue, “We’re going to rape you. Now- shh shh.” He tried to calm her as she panicked and again tried fighting against her bonds. This was quickly put to rest with a quick but vicious jab to the gut from Mark who stepped back as Jennifer keeled forward into Chris’ arms.

“Now listen, because this is very important. We try to be nice guys, but Mark here has a bit of a mean streak. I consider myself to be far more patient and considerate then him.” He sat her up and held a hand to his chest “Make Chris happy...” he gestured to Mark “ ... makes Mark happy. Understand?”

She coughed rather unsuccessfully behind the duct tape as she tried to get her diaphragm working again, but she nodded to Chris’ question. Chris smiled at her cooperation and reached up to dig a nail under the duct tape, “I’m going to take this off, okay? Now if you scream, or shout, or try to get away,” he pursed his lips as if only now considering a punishment, “we’re gonna hafta kill you.”