Jenny's Wrong Turn

This is definitely not for everyone. It's a dark story containing kidnapping, forceable confinement, physical violence and forced sexual activities of all sorts. If you might find any of that offensive or if you cannot accept what follows as the fantasy that it is, please look elsewhere; there are so many other good choices.

The lady in question would appreciate seeing any comments, so please post them here as opposed to sending feedback directly to the author.

We hope you enjoy yourself!

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Where in hell did this rain come from? Jenny wondered to herself.

The downpour outside her car was beyond belief. Even at high speed, her wipers still weren't taking the water off her windshield and she could barely see beyond the hood of her car.

That it was pitch black outside just added to her problems and the petite young woman muttered to herself as she was again forced to slow down.

The rutted gravel road wasn't doing her car's underside any favors, either. From time to time, Jenny winced at the sound of her baby being dragged over yet another protruding rock.

And where in the hell am I? she asked herself for about the 14th time that night. Allison's directions had been totally vague to start off with and Jenny's GPS seemed to be sending her around in circles - it had been an hours since she had last seen a town and she was sure she'd seen that tree at least twice before.

Common sense would have any normal person pull over and wait - wait until daylight if need be. Jenny however was not quite normal. Feisty, sure of herself, utterly confident, pulling over was not on her list.

The passenger side dipped suddenly as the wheels hit a deep, sludge-filled pothole. A wave of liquid mud splashed up over her windshield, only grudgingly allowing itself to be scraped off by the frantic wipers.

Swearing a most unladylike oath, Jenny wrenched at the wheel and kept going.

This place Allison had chosen for the Girls' Away weekend had better be pretty special! she mused. Getting there has not been half the fun.

She swore as the car started to slide to one side, cursed as she lost control of it and screamed briefly as it slid off the slippery road into the ditch.

The vehicle was tilted well to one side and it was obvious that driving out was not an option.

Jenny fumbled for her purse and finally found it by her feet. An inspection of her smart phone made things worse, for there was obviously no coverage here - wherever 'here' was.

She was about to break into tears when she noticed a dim light ahead of her, down the road. Staying where she was didn't seem to be a good option and, gritting her teeth, she wrenched at the door, pushed it up and away from her.

The door's weight made getting out difficult and the girl was in any case thoroughly drenched before she managed to clamber out onto the muddy road.

Why in hell hadn't she brought a proper rain coat?

Cursing, beginning to shiver, she trudged down the road. There were no still bars showing on her phone, but even in the torrential downpour, the pale cone of light from the device's flashlight was enough to keep her from breaking an ankle in the rutted mud.

It seemed an eternity before she arrived at the driveway. She spent another eternity trying to figure out how to open the latch on the gate.

Fuck it, she thought to herself. This outfit has just about had it anyway. Hiking her short skirt even higher, she began to climb over the gate.

She had a very bad moment when one of her heels caught in the wire, leaving her swinging back and forth. A mighty wrench pulled her boot loose and she would have to wait until morning to see what it had done to the heel.

Staggering up onto the porch, she shuddered with the cold, but it was so good to be out of the hammering rain.

Limping, she made her way to the door. An initial knock with her knuckles brought no response. Realizing the sheets of rain probably made a simple knock inaudible, the girl pounded on the door with her fist.

Please, oh please, let there be somebody home!

The door suddenly opened and a man's voice boomed out, "Took ya long enough, Unc..."

Thin lips snapped shut when the speaker saw the shivering and drenched Asian woman in front of him.

"Who in hell are you?" he asked, not moving.

"P-p-please," Jenny asked, her teeth chattering, "May I come in out of the rain, please? My car's stuck down the road."

The man looked out past her into the monsoon beyond before stepping aside. Gratefully, the girl plunged past him, heedless of the sound of the door closing firmly behind her.

The room as certainly warm enough, although it desperately needed both a major redecoration and a major cleaning.

"Get the gal something to drink, Booby," said the man who had let her in. Of medium height, he was skinny rather than thin. Long stringy brown hair came down to his shoulders, matched by a scraggly beard without any hint of a moustache. Dressed only in a pair of denim bib overalls and a worn Lakers ball cap, his dark eyes might have put a more cautious woman on her guard, but Jenny was too cold to notice.

A moment later, there was a gentle touch on her shoulder. Turning, she found herself staring at the chest of a massive man holding out a plain water glass half-filled with a clear liquid.

The girl stepped back, crooked her neck to stare upwards. The man was as black as any she had ever met and towered two full heads' height over her. Wearing a tattered set of grey sweats with a stencilled ARMY still barely visible, the man had a gentle expression on his face. He had a short beard but his head was shaved. There was a spiderweb of scars on his scalp, white against his dark skin.

The man smiled at her, again proffered the glass.

He has a nice smile, Jenny thought.

"Thank you," she said, raising it to her nose.

It was alcohol of some sort, that was for certain, but nothing she was familiar with. Its smell seared her nostrils, but she needed warmth it would bring and took a gulp, only to choke and cough at its fiery vapors.

"I think she likes it, Bobby," the thin man chuckled.

"Yes, Danny." The big man's voice was surprisingly soft. Looking up at his brown eyes, Jenny was suddenly puzzled by a certain lack of... what? Awareness? Liveliness? Free will?

She took another drink, smaller, more careful this time and felt the illusion of warmth sweep though her body.

"She does like it, Bobby! We'll have to tell Uncle Dayce he got the recipe just right this time."

"Yes, Danny."

Jenny shivered again, sagging a little under the weight of her coat. The downpour had soaked the brown shearling coat and it must have weighed 25 pounds all by itself.

Danny produced an old blanket, held it out to her. "Here," he said. "Trade you. That coat's gotta be hung up near the fire to dry out."

Wordlessly, she shrugged out of the dripping coat and wrapped herself in the blanket.

With returning warmth came a returning sense of caution. "May I use your telephone, please? I need to get a tow truck or something."

The thin man smiled at her. "Where's your car again?"

"Just down the road, in the ditch," Jenny said, still choking a little at the raw fumes. "Down the hill. It's not far."

His eyes swung to the black man. "Go check it out, Bobby."

"Yes, Danny."

The big man stepped to the door, opened it. Outside, the storm had if anything increased.

"Wait," Danny said. "It's pouring out there and them's your last clean clothes. Leave 'em here - ain't nobody going to see you."

"Yes, Danny."

The towering man stripped off his sweats in swift, efficient motions.

"Don't forget your shoes, Bobby," Danny said. "It's muddy out there."

"Yes, Danny." He turned back to look for his footwear and the small woman gasped.

Bobby was huge, massive in every way - enormous shoulder, rippling abs, biceps like melons, thighs thicker than Jenny's waist.

And a cock to go with it.

This was not something to be minimized by the use of proper, prissy terms such as 'penis'. This was a cock in every sense of the word, one as long as Jenny's foot, even flaccid.

Jenny stared at it in disbelief. The big man gave no sign of embarrassment. Instead, he pulled worn boots over his feet and without a glance backward, simply strode out into the rain.

Danny closed the door behind him and motioned her to a chair near a fire burning in an open fireplace.

"Sit," he said. "Get warm. Bobby'll be back in a few minutes. There's never been one for moving at night like Bobby."

"Your friends will be waiting for you, I expect," he asked.

Shivering, the girl replied, "In this weather, they won't be surprised if I'm not on time. Maybe I could use your phone, please, to call them? I've got no coverage here on mine."

"Phone's down," he said, flatly. "Must be the storm."

"Oh, crap!" the woman moaned. "Now what am I going to do?"

"Where were you heading to?"

"Just a weekend at a resort with some friends. I told them I'd try to make it if I could, but I got lost in this storm."

"They'll be worried over you, I guess," Danny said.

"Well, probably not. Like I said, it wasn't for certain that I was coming. But I haven't seen some of them in a long time."

She thought, then added, "Where are we, anyway?

Danny ignored the question. Instead, he rose and went into the kitchen, poured himself a drink. "Hungry?" she heard him ask.

"No. Thanks, but I'm OK." She paused, then added, "Um, Danny? May I ask a question?"

"Sure thing."

"Bobby. He seems really nice, but what happened to his head?"

"Oh, them scars? It's a long story, but let's just say him and me were best buddies in Iraq. There never was a better soldier than Bobby and he kept me alive a bunch of times. Then sniper took him down one day - perfect head-shot. The K-Pot saved his life, but he's never been the same. Honest, friendly as hell, but simple, if you get my drift."

Jenny nodded.

"I got my discharge a year later and tracked him down through VA. They were just going to turn him out on the street with nothing but a metal plate under his scalp, so instead I took him in.

"He ain't much for talking or thinking things through, but he's a good friend and he works hard. He earns his keep, for sure, and he's better off than he would have been elsewise."

"Oh," Jenny said. That was really nice of you."

"Like I said, he was my best friend over there. Come to think of it, he still is. Best friend I ever had."

Jenny gasped as the door burst open behind her. Turning in her chair, she saw an older man, well into his sixties. Stomping into the warmth of the room, he was swearing nonstop about the rain.

He had pulled off his coat and was combing water out of a long white beard with his fingers before he noticed Jenny's head over the chair back.

His eyes opened wide behind round glasses.

"Who's this?"

Ignoring the question, Danny grinned at the girl. "This is my Uncle Dayce. I thought it was him when you knocked."

Turning to the older man, he said, "Uncle Dayce, this here's..."

He turned back to her. "You know, I never did get your name, sweety."

Sweety! she bristled, then realized she was in no position to object.

"Jenny," she said. "Jenny Liu." Feeling warmer, she rose, leaving the blanket on the chair.

The older man smiled in appreciation at the sight. While just over five feet tall, Jenny had an hourglass figure, with both hips and breasts oversize for her height. She was obviously well-dressed, with a dark skirt over thigh-high black boots. A simple rose-colored, deep-cut crew neck blouse showed off truly admirable cleavage.

"How old are you, darlin'?" Dayce asked.

Jenny was again irked both by tone and by the question itself, but again reminded herself that he was her host, sort of.

"I'm 22. Why?"

Any possible answer was cut off by the door banging open again. Bobby re-entered, water running down over his perfect body. He caught the towel Danny threw at him and began to dry himself. Again, he showed no sign of embarrassment at his nakedness.

"It's about three hundred metres down the road, Danny, towards the old turnoff. Bottomed out into the ditch, from what I could see."

"Figures. Thanks, Bobby."

"OK, Danny." Reclaiming his sweats from where he had left them on the floor, he began to clothe himself again.

The skinny man turned to Jenny with a smile. "Y'see, sweety, it's your lucky day. Uncle Dayce drives his own tow truck and I figure he can get you out of there in no time."

Dayce nodded. "If it ain't in too deep, sure. Otherwise, Danny, I'll need Bobby to help again."

Bobby merely nodded in acknowledgement of his name being mentioned.

Dayce and Danny exchanged a brief glance, their expressions enigmatic, before turning back to the dripping girl.

"I could do with a jar of that," the old man said, pointing to the glass still in Jenny's hand.

"I figure you might," the thin man replied. He poured a generous helping into another glass before passing it to his uncle.

Dayce took a deep gulp.

How does he do that? Jenny wondered. It darned near took the skin off my throat!

"Maybe," Dayce said, as if pondering his options, "I should take a look at it right now before somebody hits it in the dark."

He looked at the young woman. "Got the keys?"

Jenny found her purse, fumbled with the silver YSL catch on it. As she turned it sideways to look inside, yet another trickle of water ran out.

"I'm sorry about your floor," she said automatically. Danny laughed. It was obviously not an issue in this house.

She handed the keys to Dayce, who stood examining them.

"Mercedes, eh? What model?"

Like, how many cars are you going to find stuck on that fucking piece-of-shit road? she wondered.

"It's a white E350 coupe."

"Gotcha." The man held the keys in his hand. He gave a quick glance over her shoulder, then a barely-perceptible smile.

"Bobby," said Danny from behind her in the kitchen. "C'mere. I need a hand."

"Yes, Danny." The big man slipped by Jenny, his movements sinuous as a cat's.

Dayce swung the keys as if he were trying to ring a bell; Jenny stared at him. Taking advantage of her distraction, Danny stepped to just behind her and seized her by the upper arms.

Jenny screamed in surprise and tried to wiggle out of his arms. Skinny though he was, Danny was strong enough to hold her.

"Bobby, c'mere. Hold her. Be gentle, but don't let her go."

Jenny felt the black man's massive hands close on her arms with a grip of steel.

"What the fuck?" she cried, trying to kick out.

Wordlessly, Danny dodged before sliding his hands up under her skirt, seizing her panties and pulling them down over her legs. They pooled around her ankles, pretty well ruling out kicking as an option.

Feisty though she might be, Jenny wasn't going anywhere.

Not tonight, anyway.

Dayce grinned, waving the keys in front of her like a trophy.

"What the fuck?" she cried again. "Let me go, you shits!"

Danny came around to stand in front of her. His expression changed not at all as he calmly back-handed her across her face.

"Nobody likes a potty-mouth bitch," he said.

"Fuck you!" Jenny spat at him.

Again without changing his expression, Danny calmly punched her in the solar plexus.

Jenny's world came to an end for a minute as she gagged and gasped for breath. As she was slowly recovering, she felt Danny's hand lift her head up by her long, dark hair. Standing beside him was his uncle, a four-inch strip of silvery duct tape in his hand. He slapped it over her mouth in a firm gesture, rubbed it to ensure it would stick.

Her ordeal was just beginning. Grinning, Dayce reached behind the girl, snapped a pair of handcuffs on her hands. The ratcheting sound as they closed on her wrists was the saddest, the most final thing the girl had ever heard.

Enraged, Jenny struggled against the hands and bonds holding her, but she might as well have had her arms set in concrete. The immense man behind her hadn't let her move an inch. Her curses now were contained inside the tape and she shortly gave up trying.

The thin man stepped up to stand in front of her again. Jenny's skin crawled as his hands ran over her body, lingering on her full breasts.

Dayce's voice interrupted her focused anger. "How long before somebody comes looking for this one, Danny?"

"No time soon, she says."

"OK."

"Nice threads," Danny reflected as he fingered the cloth of her blouse. "Hey, Dayce, would any of your lady friends like them?"

Jenny's blood ran cold at the implications of that question.

"Nope. Little bitsy thing like her? You know my taste in girls, boy. This one's cute, but I like 'em with more meat on the bone. Besides, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, then you know that these things are going to have to be burned. The state police has a pretty good sniffer for things, right?"

"Yeah. You're right, Uncle Dayce."

"S'OK, boy. I told your daddy, God rest his soul, that I'd look after you. Now how about you stop screwin' around and unwrap this little Christmas present for your old uncle?"

Jenny was horrified at the way things had gone sour, but she had no options left.

From out of nowhere, Danny produced a large folding knife, flicking it open with a flip of his wrist. "Guess there's no point in trying to ease these things off her, is there then? Too bad, 'cause they're real pretty."

His fingered the thin fabric of the girl's blouse, again ran his free hand down over one breast and squeezed before continuing down the blouse's bottom hem. His hand retraced its path, fingers lingering over the girl's body before it grabbed the garment's deep-cut neckline.

Jenny's eyes almost popped out of her head as the knife came towards her throat. Instead of cutting her however, Danny used its razor-sharp edge to make a small, almost surgical cut in the thicker fabric at the neckline.

He closed the knife with one hand and looked at the terrified girl, first in the eyes, then down to her ample cleavage.

"I always like this part," he snickered, taking a grip on either side of the cut with his hands. He gave a lunge and the shirt tore from top to bottom, leaving its tattered remnants hanging from Jenny's arms and exposing a black, lacy brassiere.

"Sweet!" Danny muttered.

"Bobby, can you reach the hooks back there?"

The black man shifted his grips to her wrists, holding both of them in a hand the size of a dinner plate. With the other, he fumbled for the catch. After a while, he stopped.

"Sorry, Danny, I can't. Not with one hand."

"S'OK, Bobby. You just hold her."

As huge hands shifted from Jenny's wrist back to her biceps, Danny's knife was again produced. The Asian girl's eyes were wide in fright as the knifepoint wavered back and forth in front of her torso. Finally, the white man seemed to decide. First one shoulder strap was severed, then the second.

"Hold her arms back, Bobby."

"Yes, Danny." Jenny felt Bobby's strength pull her upper arms back. Inevitably, her breasts were pushed forward, made more prominent.

Danny slid the blade sideways between the side of her chest and one wing or side-strap. Jenny shivered, both from fright and from the feeling of the cold metal of the flat of the blade against her tender flesh.

The man snorted. "You're right, Uncle Dayce, this is kind of like unwrapping a Christmas present!"

Danny gave a turn of his wrist and a slight tug. Jenny felt the elastic part. The bra remained in place only because of its cups hugging her breasts.