Roadtrip Ch. 01

The road is dark and her car has rolled to a stop on the gravel shoulder. She switches on her hazard lights and walks around to open the trunk where her roadside emergency kit is stored. Just as she turns the key, a pair of headlights rise over the nearest hill and approach, slowing gradually until she can see into the open passenger window. The driver is a man, but he is looking at her car, not at her. He doesn't seem entirely creepy, and she has no idea what comes after the flares, so she waits nervously for him to park and walk to her trunk. He is more handsome than she had realized at first glance. And he also seems genuinely intent on resolving her automotive dilema. Polite, even.

She feels greatly comforted by his presence and soon they are chatting like old friends while he "guards" her until the arrival of the tow truck he insists on calling. The chill of the night breeze cuts through her skirt and she opens a suitcase in her trunk to dig out a sweater. "Wow, you came prepared!" he teases, gawking at her luggage. She laughs and explains that she's beginning a roadtrip. "All by yourself?" His question makes her laugh, "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She turns away as if that settles it. But he catches her from behind, pulling her waist toward him with one hand and grabbing a handfull of hair at the base of her neck with the other. She yelps in surprise. When she arches her back to escape, he pulls her further off balance. She grabs hold of the only thing in reach and keeps herself upright by clinging to the edge of her trunk. He presses her forward until she is trapped against the vehicle, thwarting her last bit of leverage.

For several moments, he holds her there. She is confused and afraid. Then the heat of his body is replaced by the chill of the evening as he steps back and looks her over, keeping a firm hand on the back of her head. She is dressed comfortably but attractively. The short skirt is light enough to rise tauntingly in the mild breeze. That is only one of his myriad reasons for doing this to her.

She feels his hand on the inside of her thigh and feels a sudden thrill mixed with a darker breed of fantasy closer to nightmares. His fingers brush her skin in feather-soft caresses, each climbing higher in an unhurried succession that could only end in one place. She feels a flush of anger at this stranger for using her, but she cannot stop her breath from becoming quick and ragged. She even moans when he finally glides a finger from the front of her thong to the back. He lifts her skirt and she tenses fearfully. His hand on the back of her neck begins kneading her shoulders and he speaks gently, "You were doing good there. Now, don't make me have to punish you." His hand slaps jarringly on her ass cheek. She shrieks in pain and tries to scramble away, but he grabs her by the hair again and she becomes compliant.

Now he sits on the edge of her open trunk. He pulls her to his chest, between his bent knees, and his touch is gentle again. Despite the lingering burn of his hand on her raw ass, she finds herself relaxing a little. With his arm around her tight, her face is pressed close to his shoulder and she can hear his heart pounding madly. He looks over her shoulder from above as he lifts the back of her skirt again. "Be good this time," he warns. She waits motionless as he inspects her posterior.

A new set of headlights crest the hill and he quickly releases his hold on her. The skirt falls back into place and she jumps back a step instinctively. She glances from him to the approaching tow truck. As it nears, she waves and runs to greet the driver. The truck halts and she climbs in the passenger door. She shouts at the two men inside for a few moments. They pull their vehicle alongside the man who assaulted her. He walks coolly toward the tow truck and opens the passenger door. The truck driver's young assistant clasps a hand over her mouth. The cloth he holds smells sweet and makes her dizzy. She loses conciousness...