Toll

Just after I turned eighteen I decided I was going to hike across the country, from the East coast, where I lived, to the West coast, where a cousin of mine lived. There was a long break between the end of the school year and the start of college so I had plenty of time.

I suppose I should mention I had plenty of time if I didn't actually hike all the way. Hitch-hiking would get me there a lot faster and with less wear and tear on my feet. For returning home I'd already decided that a bus would be a fine thing.

I'd like to point out that I was very careful about who I accepted lifts from. Couples were the go, preferably older couples. I'd also take a shot of the car and number plate and message it to my parents so they'd know who I was last with. I was also sticking to main roads. If anyone wanted to detour down a dirt track it would be without me.

I'd been hiking for a couple of hours in the hot sun when this car pulled up and I was offered a lift. The occupants were an older couple who looked me over carefully before offering. While chatting to them before accepting the ride I said I was just heading generally West at this point. I'd refine my potential lifts when I was a lot closer to the West coast.

I accepted the ride and we chatted as we drove, just discussing life generally. I was tired from that couple of hours hiking and the sun was warm and I drifted off to sleep.

It was still broad daylight when the woman nudged me awake.

"We're turning South here, dear," she told. "We thought you'd probably want to continue on your westward way."

I thanked them and piled out of the car and the situation I was in dawned on me. I was in the mountains, standing on a dirt track. I was looking around, confused, when the woman spoke up.

"Don't go panicking, dearie," she said. "Everything's fine. You just need to stroll down that road there and it finishes at Worthingville. The main road runs through Worthingville and you can continue West along it. From here to Worthingville is what? About a mile?"

She was looking at her husband when she asked those last two questions.

He grunted and nodded, saying, "Just under. Take you ten, fifteen minutes at the most."

I very politely thanked them for the ride and hitched up my backpack as they drove off. A mile wasn't too bad. Like he said, fifteen minutes would do it and it was still the middle of the day.

I set off, walking smartly along. I'd gone about half a mile when two men stepped onto the road from a side track and started heading along towards Worthingville. They were around twenty yards in front of.

There was nothing special about the two men. They were big and rather beefy, dressed in t-shirts and jeans. Just a couple of farm-hands heading towards their next job, was my guess. They also had nice bums, not that I noticed, being too lady-like to notice that sort of thing.

It turned out that they also had keen hearing. I accidentally kicked a small pebble and it made a rattling sound. Both men heard it and turned their heads to look back, saw me, seemed to go into shock, and halted, waiting until I drew closer.

I don't know what they found so surprising. I was what I considered reasonably pretty, with good hair, a damned decent figure, even if I do say so myself, and dressed in shorts and t-shirt for hiking. It was a warm day, after all.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing on our road?" was the first question that came my way.

"I'm Anise, I'm walking to the West coast, and what do you mean, your road?"

"West coast? Bit off the track aren't you? This," the man gestured at the road, "is the Worthingham Drive. We're Worthinghams. That makes it our drive."

"If you say so," I said, deciding not to argue the point. If an idiot decides something let him keep his delusions. It saves a lot of breath.

"We do say so," said the other man. "Let me introduce ourselves. I'm James Cutler Worthingham, the Third, and this is James Cutler Worthingham, the Fourth."

I looked from one to the other. If there was a year's difference between them I'd eat the extra.

"Kind of young to be his father, aren't you?" I gently suggested.

"Brother," he replied. "Our father is James Cutler Worthingham, the First."

Right. Clear as mud.

"Am I right in assuming that you have an older brother who is James Cutler Worthingham, the Second?"

"No. Sister. An unusual name for a girl but not unheard of."

"Up until now it was unheard of by me," I muttered, but that sharp hearing caught me out again.

"Maybe," said James the third, "but our younger sisters seem to think the name's reasonable."

"Are you saying all your brothers and sisters have the same name except for the number?"

"Why not? When the old man screaming for one of us we generally know who he means and they do a runner until he calms down. It works."

It was official. I was walking past the local asylum and a couple of inmates had escaped.

"Well, it's been, ah, nice to meet you but I need to get on my way. I have to get to Worthingville so I can head on West."

"OK, but before you go there's the matter of your being on our road. You did admit it was our road, didn't you?"

"I guess," I said cautiously.

"Then obviously you will understand that we need to charge a toll."

I sighed. A simple shakedown. I was irritated about it but if it was only the price of a drink for them I might cough it up just to avoid a hassle. Not that I wouldn't argue.

"You can't charge a toll on a road unless the road is posted clearly stating it's a toll road," I pointed out, hoping that that was correct.

"True," agreed James whatever. "Fortunately our road is posted at either end with just such notices. Didn't you see it when you passed? No? Not our fault. The toll still applies."

I was prepared to swear there'd been no such sign but I couldn't be sure.

"And just how much is this toll?" I demanded, really irritated now.

"Money? Are you suggesting that we would accept money? Really, what do you think we are? Bandits?"

"She's new, James," said James. "She doesn't understand the local bartering system."

"True, now that you mention it. She does have a nice bedroll tied to her backpack, though."

"What? I'm not giving you my sleeping bag. I need that," I protested.

"And we wouldn't take it," replied James. "We're just going to use it for a short while."

I gave him a look that probably shouted 'what the hell are you talking about', because he explained further.

"We just need to roll the sleeping bag out for a short while. Once it's rolled out we'll lay you on it, collect our toll, and then you can roll it up and be on your way."

It only took me a second to guess his meaning but that was a second too long. I was prepared to make a run for it but one of them already had hold of my arm. Before I could pull from his grip (if it was at all possible to do so) the second James had hold of my other arm.

"Feel free to scream and struggle, Anise," said one of them quite cheerfully. "There's no-one around to hear you. Now if you'll excuse us."

Oh, how wonderful. I had permission to struggle and scream. Big fat hairy deal. My struggling and screaming didn't stop them from working in unison to undo my shorts and pull them down, together with my panties. That done they helped me off with my backpack and set it down. They also had no trouble peeling off my t-shirt and bra, at no stage actually losing their respective grips on my arms. I don't think it even took them a minute to have me effectively naked. (I say effectively as my shorts and panties were bunched around my ankles, so I suppose you could say I still had them on.)

One of them took hold of both my wrists while the other unrolled my sleeping bag and laid it by the side of the road. That James nodded to the James holding me and he tried to walk me over to the sleeping bag but I was damned I was going to go. I dug in my heels and resisted just as hard as I could, swearing something chronic.

Sleeping bag James laughed at the man holding me and sauntered over to us. "Arms," he said, and my arms were released and James arms slipped under my arms and wrapped around me. I let out a shriek of indignation as his hands happened to finish up on my breasts.

I promptly found out the reason he'd done this as the other James bent down and hooked my legs out from under me. I tried to kick (hard to do when a man's holding your legs) and swore a great deal, which quite shocked me. I hadn't known I knew so many swear words. Oh, and I was now officially naked as James casually pulled my shorts and panties over my feet and tossed them to one side.

The pair of them laid me down on the sleeping-bag, with James also settling onto it between my legs. "Hold her arms high, won't you," he told the other James. "Have you looked at the nails on her? They could do you a significant injury."

With my arms pinned above my head and James between my thighs I naturally thought he'd just drop his trousers and start in on me. What he did was worse. He started playing with me, fondling my breasts, rubbing my mons, slipping his hand between my legs and rubbing me very intimately, and the doing the same in reverse, moving back to my mons and then my breasts.

Positioned the way he was I couldn't even struggle properly. If I'd tried to kick him he'd have probably laughed as I wouldn't be able to put any force into the kick. All I could do was suffer in silence. (Mainly because I'd been wearing my throat out with all carrying on I'd been doing.)

What he was doing to me was reprehensible, not because he was being rude and crude but because he was being thoughtful and careful, deliberately rousing me. I rather bitterly pointed out that he didn't need to do this and he could just get on with it. The swine actually managed to look shocked.

"What, just pounce like some rabid animal in heat?" he gasped. "I couldn't. I truly couldn't."

Maybe not but he could do all sorts of other things to my body. He'd graduated to stirring me up internally and I gave a genuine shriek of fright when he started stroking next to my clitoris. That was just too much.

He straightened up a little and now he started undoing his trousers. I just watched in horror as he undid them and pushed his things down and his erection was on display. I promptly looked anywhere but at that thing. The momentary glimpse I'd had of it was enough to make me want to panic.

I could feel him fumbling around down there and then, oh my god, I could feel his cock pressing against me, into me. I started going, "No, no, no," and I could hear him going, "Yes, yes, yes," with a laugh in his voice.

As you can guess, the yeses won. Inch by inch he sank his cock into me, making it fit where I'd have sworn there wasn't room. All his blasted teasing had aroused me and left me wet, and as far as he was concerned he was sliding along a nicely greased passage that was welcoming him, no matter what I might have been saying.

He half lay on me, cock fully inside me, resting his weight against me, his hands back to playing with my breasts. Me, all I could do was lie there, pinned down by his cock while his brother pinned my hands above my head. Defenceless and helpless, naked and vulnerable, and he wasn't doing anything.

"Well?" I demanded after about a minute.

"Well what?" he casually replied.

"Aren't you going to do anything?" (Not that I wanted him to, but neither did I want to spend the rest of the day lying here with a cock up me.)

"Of course. I just need you to start moving so that I know you're ready."

My mind just went blank at that point. I mean, I was the victim here. The victim doesn't take the initiative. The victim is just, well, victimised.

Not having any real choice in the matter I gave a tentative push up with my hips to find James immediately willing to match me. I repeated the push and James did the same. Bit by bit we started up, finishing up with James pounding into me in quite an eager fashion.

It was terrible, not because I hated it, but because I didn't. I could feel his cock plunging into me and it seemed to stir me up right through my entire body. I was burning up, having full body hot flashes, and they were getting fuller and hotter the longer he went, and he was going on for quite a while by my book.

(I couldn't help but wonder afterwards if he had really gone on for a long time or was it a case that my ex-boyfriend had gone on for a short time or did being forced just make it seem like a long time? I had to consider it afterwards because while it was happening about all I could think of was, "His cock. So big. So hard. Oh god.")

He kept going until I found myself climaxing, which came as another shock. I'd always thought that if you were being forced you just naturally wouldn't climax. Mine hit me like a train, with my scream providing the train's whistle, loud and clear. James started bouncing urgently at that point and he fired off just as I was coming down. I remembered thinking that I'd hoped I'd spoiled it for him.

James rolled off me and scrambled to his feet while the other James released my hands and knelt next to me. I just looked at him blankly, still feeling delicious ripples coursing through me.

"Hands and knees," James was saying and I was just looking at him and going, "What?"

"Roll over, damn it," he snapped, lifting against my side and I found myself rolling over so I was lying face down.

"Finally," he said. "Now get up on your hands and knees."

I just said, "What?" and he smacked my bottom and I screamed.

"If I now have your attention," James said, "will you please kneel on all fours. Hands and knees, in other words."

I gave him a very put upon look, wondering what the hell he was up to, but did as he told me. He moved around behind me and I turned to look at him just as he dropped his trousers and I got an eyeful. I hastily looked elsewhere once more, still wondering what the hell, when I felt him behind me and what the hell dawned on me. My ex and I might have had sex (not much, but some) but we certainly hadn't done any real experimentation. It suddenly registered with me that with me on all fours like this and him coming in from behind I was about to learn what doggy-style meant.

The first thing I learnt was that if you'd just had one ride then ride number two will assume that you don't need any foreplay. This whacking great cock came charging into me, with me shrieking, "Wo...oh" with surprise.

James arms reached around me and he clutched hold of my breasts quite tightly and his cock got down to working double time. I caught on pretty fast that the reason he was holding my breasts was to hold me in place, otherwise he'd have been driving me across the road he was jolting me so hard.

I was squealing and my hips were working double time just to keep up with him. I knew this wasn't going to last long but it was going to be hectic while it did.

Then he slowed right down.

"Right," he said. "That should have warmed you up. Now let's see how we go."

Warmed me up? What the hell did he think the first James did? Leave me frigid as an icicle in winter? Didn't matter. James the Turd was taking his time from this point on.

He stroked my breasts while his cock slid in and out, no hurry, take your time, I've got all fucking day. Oh god, don't think that even in jest or they might keep me here fucking all day. Anyway, you get the picture. We'd started at a gallop and now we were down to a gentle amble through the park, with James highly appreciative of his relaxing hobby.

Me, I wasn't quite so appreciative. I wanted him to finish. To do this he'd have to go faster so I wanted him to go faster. Um, I should point out it wasn't because I wanted him to do this or because I was all aroused, but I just felt he should do the proper thing and finish.

His cock would slide into me with me pushing back to take it. Then he'd be pulling back, nice and slow, only to slide back in, still nice and slow. I was ready to start screaming. Those hot body flushes were back, hotter and flushier than ever, and I don't care if flushier is a real word or not. That's how I felt and it was getting worse with every casual stroke. Damn it, how could a man fuck you casually? I'd have sworn it couldn't be done.

Mother Nature is a good friend of mine. She ruled so far and no further. James gave me one thrust too many and I climaxed, once again letting rip with a scream. James said something very rude and he got going in earnest. Bit late, I thought.

Not too late, it turned out. He came hammering in hard and fast and my senses were running out of control again. My climax barely had time to die down when James suddenly energetic burst spurred it back to life, a climax jump start, I guess. This time I didn't scream, too surprised to even do that, while James groaned and thoroughly squirted inside me.

One James hauled me to my feet and then expertly rolled up my sleeping bag and reattached it to my backpack.

"Better get dressed," the other James advised. "You don't want to be flaunting your charms if our father turns up. Very susceptible to feminine charms, is our father."

I just gave him a look and hastily scrambled into my clothes. Like the gentlemen they weren't the boys helped me put my backpack on. They also insisted on escorting me down the road until we reach a crossroad from where I was in sight of the village.

Looking at the roadsigns on the crossroad I pointed out that the road we had come down was Waddell Drive. The two James looked at the sign.

"She's right, you know," said one. "Come to think of it, isn't Worthingham Drive the road on the other side of the property?"

"You're right," said the second James, nodding in agreement. "Well, our apologies. We've done gone and charged you a toll you didn't need to pay. Tell you what. If we ever catch you on our road we'll let you skip the toll."

I gave them a speaking look and they retreated, laughing. Fine for them. I headed into town. I was so going to get a lift and head on West just as fast as I could. More out of curiosity than anything else I googled Worthingham Drive. It was there all right. It was the main road leading West out of Worthingville.