I've never considered myself a fitness freak but at the end of the working day there's nothing I enjoy more than going out for a run around our local park and trails, setting myself distance goals and generally convincing myself that getting hot and sweaty in this way is keeping me in shape. There is the other reason that I go and that is I find that concentrating on the target focuses my mind and makes me forget all the other crappy things that's going on in my life.
My biggest problem is my husband, he's a businessman but that's mostly all he does for alongside his dedication to the business he is also a prude, mean with his money and a control-freak. He has some funny ideas about sex and is a firm believer that having sexual intercourse is just about making babies, should only be between a married man and his wife and, this is the hard part for me, should not be done too frequently.
If he knew what I had done, he would have no hesitation in throwing me out and, frankly, I don't like that idea as I have nowhere to go.
His business is very much a specialist and niche affair making safety equipment for aircraft maintenance workers, mostly made-to-measure harnesses for when engineers have to work high up on the wings, tailplanes and fins of big jets. The product is exclusively defence-related and dependent on government contracts and although my husband isn't entirely comfortable with the idea, I work on administration and managing the finance side of the business, doing payroll for our employees, that kind of stuff which is kind of funny as he has some very old-fashioned ideas about a woman's place being in the home. I guess the bottom line is that me working for him means he doesn't have to employ and pay someone else which is typical of his mind-set. The only thing that he has done that seems to be out of character is that he has registered the company in my honour (he says!) using my name. I suspect that the real reason is to do with some tax loophole but, whatever, 'Brianna Holdings Inc.' it is.
Working for the government requires jumping through a load of procedural hoops mainly to do with security (even though our product was hardly hi-tech) and there were very strict conditions imposed if the contract was to be signed and maintained. Some of those conditions related to advertising and product promotion, other rules are to do with propriety and I guess that's where my problems stemmed from ... but I'm getting ahead of myself.
It was a few months ago that hubby went away on a business trip to some Air Force facility. He is forever chasing new contracts and deals and these away trips was something that happened from time-to-time. I was always pleased when it occurred for his absence would give me a bit of relief from his dominating ways for a few days and, as usual, I 'celebrated' his departure as I always did by going out for an extended run when I wouldn't be time-limited and to have to get back home by a certain time and to have him questioning where I had been and who I might have seen.
The evening's weather was warm enough for me to wear shorts - just the right conditions for running - so I drove to the nearby state national park to take myself on a run through the woodlands. There was only one other vehicle, a van, in the parking lot which suited me fine as it indicated that I would not be bothered by too many other folks as I ran along the trails. It was a new route for me but I have a good sense of direction and had no hesitation in jogging along the unfamiliar paths as I figured out a circling route to take me back to the car park.
The light was fading fast and I was almost at the end of my route when with the car park in sight I came into a picnic area set with tables and benches. Leaning against one of the tables was this big black guy who head bowed down and wearing a sweaty tee-shirt, looked as if he was trying to catch his breath after doing what I was doing, running. I was a little irritated to see someone else when I was out running for it usually meant that acknowledgements had to be exchanged and that for me meant breaking my concentration on reaching my target. However, here I was, getting to the end of my run, I had reached my target and I thought maybe it was a good point to do likewise and to slow down and take a breather. As I approached he lifted his head and I vaguely recognised him to be one of the workers in our industrial unit where we make the harnesses. He didn't give me any kind of acknowledgement, not even a 'Hi, how ya doing' kind of greeting, but I nodded in his direction before going to one of the tables where I began to do my end-of-run stretching, warm-down exercises. I grabbed the edge of the table and began working out and doing my deep-breathing exercises.
I didn't hear either the door of the van slide open or the approach behind me of the 'somebodies' who grabbed me. I did see as I lifted my head the black guy get up from his bench and say, "tie the snotty bitch's hands and get her back to the van."
From that point on it all became a bit of a blur. My arms were roughly pulled behind my back and I felt cord or rope or something strapping my wrists together. I went to cry out but before I could even open my mouth to speak a bag like a pillowcase was put over my head and I was effectively gagged and could see nothing. I guess I must have then been dragged along the short track to the car park for the next thing I knew was hearing the sliding door of the van being opened and my captors roughly shoving me inside. The van started up and began to move and with me blindly struggling to sit up I became aware that I was sandwiched on the back seat between two persons. I did the only thing possible, I screamed!
My cries didn't have the hoped-for effect of being released, the only reaction was to hear the laughter of my captors who I realised must have numbered four or more. One of them said, "Shut the fuck up, t'ain't gonna do ya no good yellin'"
That bought on another round of laughter followed by the comment from one of them of, "Lemme see what we've got here ..." as I felt a hand grab and pull it up my crop-top vest. The bag that was still tightly pulled around my head didn't prevent me from knowing that my tits were now fully exposed.
Another voice from the front of the van , "Wow, nice .. can't wait to get my mouth 'round them .." caused more laughter and another voice to make a similar crude remark as fingers touched me and stroked over my tit, "Heh heh, they feel nice too .." and, damn it, I knew that my nipples must have stiffened as they always did when anyone did that.