Chapter 1

"It's a fucking rust bucket," snarled Eddie. "How do you expect us to go on vacation in this heap of tin?"

"Vans are harder to steal these days," muttered Brian, Eddie's follower and partner in crime. "You said we had to have a van. This is a fucking van."

The old Volkswagen Camper Wagon wheezed to a halt in the parking lot behind the sign which read, "Lookout". The platform overlooked the town. At night the town lights gave the false illusion that the rural backwater was a bigger and brighter than it really was. The venue was one usually favored by courting couples but not tonight. Tonight it was raining. Thin, constant, drought-breaking rain. Brian, the driver, turned off the VW's lights. The only other vehicle parked in the lot was a late model six cylinder Ford panel van. The dark blue metallic paint made the Ford difficult to see in the shadows where it was parked.

The two predators watched the blue van for a long time without saying a word before Eddie broke the silence.

"That's what I call a fucking van," said Eddie. "I'll bet the guy who drives it has got a mattress in the back and is busy nailing some chick right now."

"Don't see no movement," said Brian. He peered at the blue van. "You'd expect to see it bounce a bit. Them Fords have got real soft suspension."

Eddie grunted.

"Are we gonna take it?" said Brian.

"You want to?"

"Yeah. Beats this heap of shit."

"Okay. I'll take the driver's side, you take the passenger's side. If the doors are locked I smash the window and ask for the key."

"Right," said Brian.

"If the doors aren't locked, I'll take the driver you take the passenger."

"Sure, Eddie."

"And if there is a chick in there, just grab her and keep her quiet until I've sorted things out. You don't start fucking her brains out until I say so. Not like you did to that red-headed bitch last month."

"Right, Eddie," Brian grumbled.

He remembered the redhead. When she got out of her sports car she flashed white cotton panties and her tits bounced unfettered beneath a thin cotton top. She had only just started to ask how she and her boyfriend could help when Brian had grabbed her. She was momentarily shocked into silence when she was thrown onto the hood of her sports car. The redhead started to scream when Brian, a six foot three athlete, ripped the clothes off her back and forced his engorged cock into her tight, dry, pussy.

The redhead had thought the two young men were in trouble and needed help. The stolen Toyota Crown the thieves were driving at the time had its hood up and Eddie was waving a rag to attract attention as the redhead and her boyfriend drove past the rest-stop. Eddie, a small blonde fresh-faced young man, could look pathetic when he tried. She'd insisted to her boyfriend they pull over and offer assistance. Within seconds Brian had her top, skirt and pants in tatters. The redhead was naked and screaming, "No, no, no...", as he rammed his cock into her. This was before Eddie had finished taping her boyfriend to a tree with a roll of duct tape.

The boyfriend went mad seeing the couples' good intentions turn to shit and his do-gooder chick used like a truck-stop whore. He could see her legs flailing the air as the big man drove in and out of her like a demented dog. He got so mad that Eddie had to hit him with a rock to quieten him down.

So Eddie said. Brian was too busy panel beating with the girl to notice.

They'd got a few hundred dollars for the sports car and less for the Honda. After they had enjoyed her company for a couple of days, Eddie sold the redhead to a truck driver who was heading east. But, best of all, there was a small fortune in used bills in the redhead's brief case destined for a "Save the Whales" charity. That was when Eddie decided they should take a vacation. Get a van and head for the west coast he'd told Brian. They needed a change of scenery. And maybe a change of MO. The boyfriend was still in a coma but likely to come round any day soon and the redhead, if she escaped her truck driving master, would be after their blood.

Now Eddie reached back and picked up a roll of duct tape and a short metal bar with a chisel blade at one end and a claw and hook on the other from the floor of the rust-bucket. He stuffed the duct tape into a pocket of his jacket. He opened his door quietly and slipped out of the VW. Brian joined him and the pair moved silently through the shadows to the rear of their target. They were dressed alike in jeans and black leather jackets. Brian was a head and shoulders taller than his leader, but he moved quietly, with athletic grace. Eddie reached into his pocket, found his knitted ski mask with red rings around the eye holes and pulled it over his blonde head.

"Ooh, ooh, ooh," whispered Brian waving his hands in mock terror. "That's scary!"

"Don't fuck about," breathed Eddie. He hefted the short jemmy in his left hand. "Ready?"

Brian nodded. They were behind the van now, almost touching the shiny wet metal. They could hear music. Some classical shit, thought Eddie. He held up three fingers, gave three beats with his right hand. On the third beat he and Brian launched their attack.

"Oh, Martin," said Mary Anne, "Is that what I think it is?" She giggled.

He kissed her again. The latest i phone was softly playing Vivaldi's "Four Seasons". The rain pattered against the windscreen of Martin's recently acquired van. It was warm and cosy on the front bench seat.

Martin felt his Mary Anne's small hand squeeze the swelling in his jeans and begin to rub it softly in the ritual she had established when they started to date, six weeks ago. He had one hand around her waist and the other cupped one of Mary Anne's full, round, breasts. She was proud of her breasts. As big and bouncy as any of the other girls in the cheer-leader's squad, without being gross, she thought. She liked him to play with her small pale pink nipples. But that was the limit. Martin had undone her front-fastening bra but Mary Anne's white fine woolen top, with its red college logo, remained in place as did her pleated skirt and white cotton pants.

Martin nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear and breathed in the clean scent of Mary Anne's shiny ash blonde hair. She slowly stroked his denim covered, tumescent, cock. She could feel it grow. She knew he was getting aroused because his jeans felt sticky when she pressed where the tip of his cock should be. Another ten minutes, at most, and he'd come. she thought. He'd 'cream his jeans', as her best friend Eloise Jones so crudely put it. He'd done it before. Then he'd take her home to where her anxious mother waited up for her. He'd be too embarrassed by the stain around his crotch to come in to the house. Mary Anne giggled.

Martin was now working on the waist band of her short pleated skirt. He fumbled with the unfamiliar buttons and small metal clasp. He usually stroked her pussy by going under her skirt and pushing aside the elastic lace that fringed her cotton panties. It was as far as Mary Anne was prepared to let him go. Tonight was going to be different, he'd resolved. Tonight he had the new van with its fitted, vinyl-covered foam-rubber mattress in the back. Tonight Martin was going to get the short skirt off her, and then her panties. Then he was going to invite Mary Anne to climb over the back of the seat and into the dark cavern of the van. Then ... who knows what might follow. He even had a dozen condoms in the glove box.

"It's like a baton,"she teased as she sometimes did on the nights he picked her up from the gym where she, and ten other athletic young women, trained earnestly to be cheerleaders. "So big and hard."

"Why don't you take it out and twirl it?" Martin suggested hopefully.

"It's too sticky," she declared.

"Then why don't I?" he said, unexpectedly, and unzipped his fly. Martin's cock, released from the tight denim constraints, flopped out and up. He grabbed Mary Anne's wrist and slapped her hand onto his swollen member. Mary Anne squeaked in surprise. Martin had never done anything like this before. Her hand closed around his shaft. By the dim dash board light she could see the sticky fluid drip onto her pleated skirt.

"No! Martin, my skirt..." she began but at that moment both doors burst open and their nightmare began.

Eddie jerked open the driver's door. He grabbed the driver, a slightly built young man of average height with short curly hair, by the scruff of his tee shirt and hauled him out of the van and onto the wet black tarmac of the car park. Eddie noticed his victim's fly was undone and his cock was poking out of his jeans. Eddie smiled then smacked the driver on the head with his jemmy as the frightened youth tried to get to his feet. Martin went down and stayed down.

Brian ripped open the passenger's door, and pushed his way onto the bench seat. He wrapped one arm around the cheer leader's neck and the other around her waist. He hoisted the terrified young woman onto his lap, released her neck but slapped a callused hand across her generous mouth. "One peep outta you, Blondie, and I'll break your fucking neck! D'ya unnerstand?" he growled.

Mary Anne nodded. She was numb with shock. Her eyes were wide with fear.

Eddie dragged Martin's limp body to the back of the van and opened the back doors. He heaved Martin onto the pristine mattress and climbed into the van before closing the doors behind him. Eddie switched on the roof light on so he could see to fasten Martin's hands behind his back with duct tape. Martin was wet and dirty but the blow to his head was bleeding only a little. He groaned but did not then fully recover consciousness. Eddie taped Martin's ankles then offered the roll of tape to Brian but the big man shook his head.

"No need. She don't wanna be tied up. She's gonna be a good girl and do 'zactly what she's told. Ain'tcha, Blondie?"

Mary Anne shivered in fright but nodded. The hooded apparition crouching over Martin's body filled her with terror. She sat on Brian's lap and could feel his pulsing cock through the thin cotton of her panties. She tried to shift her weight off the erectile flesh. He grinned at her.

"Feels good, don't it?" he said, and adjusted her so his erection fitted between her cotton covered ass cheeks. "My cock between your buns."

Eddie turned out Martin's pockets. There was a wallet, a bunch of house keys—the car keys were in the ignition—a Swiss army knife and a handful of small change. Eddie took off his ski mask and began to examine the contents of the wallet.

Brian said to Mary Anne, "Now I'm gonna take my hand off your mouth, so's you can breathe easier. Don't you say a word, unnerstand?"

Mary Anne nodded again. Brian removed his rough paw from her face.

"Please..." she whispered and turned her head to look at her captor.

She saw a big man with close-cropped brown hair. He was in his early twenties with a round, sunburned, face and broken nose. Brian's thick lips were parted to reveal even teeth bared in a smile that was not reflected in his hard, hungry, green eyes. Hungry and slightly mad.

"Sh!" Brian said to the trembling girl. He slid a hand up inside her light woolen jumper and stroked the silky skin of her breasts. Her little nipples were hard as stone. He felt the loose bra. He jerked his head towards the back of the van where Martin lay. "He was playing with your titties, was he, Blondie? Before we rescued you?"

She nodded. She felt the big man's horny palm caress each breast and his coarse-skinned fingers tweak each stiff little nipple.

"You like that, don't cha?" Mary Anne nodded, and whimpered because she was frightened and it was true. "You got nice big titties, kid. Take your top off and show me and Eddie just how big, eh?"

Mary Anne hesitated. Brian's hand clamped, like a steel claw, around the breast he was stroking so gently a moment before. "Do it," he growled.

Mary Anne started to sob but she did as she was told and pulled the white and red top over her head, and then slipped out of her bra. Brian released his grip. The young woman's shapely breasts joggled softly as she dropped the top onto the seat where Martin had been sitting a scant five minutes earlier. She tried to cover her exposed breasts with her small hands.