"Leah?" asked the voice from the front of the car.

I mumbled a reply, and he glanced around. A smile full of promise eased onto his lips, I smiled in return, relieved. Stretched across the leather, with my skirt hiked up to flash the band of my underwear and my top and bra stuffed hastily under the seat, I'd hoped it would be an obvious invitation. He slid the passenger seat forward, and climbed through the gap. He stopped in the space the seat had left, rocking back on his heels; his eyes took in every inch of me. I could feel myself squirming under his scrutiny, reaching out; I grasped at his hand and brought it back to me. Placing it on my throat, I guided it down. "Cal", I murmured, "Your move".

He pushed up from his crouch and leaned into me, his hands running behind my back, raising my face to his. He breathed down my neck, and I turned my head away. Tears stinging in my eyes. Kissing down my chest, then stomach he reached the band of my pants, biting the fabric, he eased them down with his teeth. His head separated my legs, and his tongue found its way home. I moved my hand up and through his hair, it was like feathers and silk, but even that did not comfort me. My body was tense, tight and tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision and bringing a lump to my throat.

I wouldn't call myself a romantic. But somehow, I never pictured it this way, I never would have thought I'd have acted so much like a cheap whore either, spread like a dog in heat across the back of a car, with some guy pawing all over me. Cal was different though, he brought out the best in me, and he brought out the worst. I'd decided to give him my purity, my virginity on his terms, and like millions of teenagers before me, I'd cross that boundary with my bare flesh stuck to the hot leather of some clapped out car, driven and parked in the middle of nowhere.

I hadn't even done it yet, and already I felt used. I heard him fumbling with a packet, and he had moved back so he could see what he was doing. It was apparent how much this turned him on, and I knew he didn't realise how much it turned me off. I wanted to gaze at the stars while I screamed his name, I didn't want to gaze at steamed windows, suffocating on the smell of sweat, blood and tears. Maybe I wasn't ready yet, but then, naked and spread, awaiting, I couldn't say no. It seemed wrong. It seemed a good way to invite rape. Don't get me wrong. I love Cal, but he's a guy, and I don't trust guys, and girls don't turn me on enough to turn lesbian. So I lay back, fighting the tears, and telling myself, it only hurts the first time.

He whispered sweet nothings under his breath as he pushed into me, I rolled my head back and clenched my teeth while he groped all over me and I lay there unmoving, feeling as if I was being split in two by my own tension - not his sexual prowess. I opened my eyes to look at the window and shrieked at the face that leered down at me. Cal, being an ignorant red-blooded male on the job, whispered, "So you like it like that?" I pushed at him and shrieked again, as a flaming torch lit up the window. He glared at me for pushing them, and I stared as his eyes tracked upto the toothless grin and beady eyes that watched us, he scuttled back to the other window, his back pressed against it. I gulped audibly as it was lit up with another leering smile.

"Doors Cal!" I screamed.

He nodded and his hand slammed down on the central locking system. I turned and wiped my hand over the window, clearing the steam so I could see what was happening outside the car. Despite being reasonably conservative in public, I wasn't bothered I was flashing them all; most of them had already caught the beginning of the live show. Surrounding the car was a group of men, all in their late fifties to sixties and all carrying flaming torches and brandishing farmyard equipment. The man at my window stood leaning on a pitchfork. I blinked and looked again, checking that maybe my first foray into sexual relations hadn't made me start to hallucinate. They were still there.

When I turned back, Cal had dressed himself and was climbing back into the front seat. I glanced around the back seat and tried to locate my clothes. Not an easy thing to do in the dark, I managed to get everything except my underwear. I don't know what Cal done with them, hell; maybe in his hurry to get dressed, he was wearing them. Regardless of my lost knickers, I clambered into the passenger seat via Cal's lap. He growled at me as I got in his way and I just muttered at him, ten minutes ago, he'd have begged for a lap dance.

I sat silently while he started the car. It choked, it coughed and spluttered, but eventually it roared to life. The farmers remained unmoved. He flicked the lights on; we were parked with the car's nose to a gate, jammed up some inhospitable dirt track. He was staring angrily in his mirror and I glanced quickly behind us. Dragged across the path behind us was a heavy-duty trailer. I remembered seeing it when we pulled up; when it had been just on the break of night and everything was silhouetted against the darkening sky. It had seemed beautiful then, now it seemed like hell. He flicked the headlights onto full beam, and we both stared at the gate.

It seemed sturdy enough - but it looked old, and it was wooden. It led into a field that went on into some woods. It wasn't an escape route, but it appeared to be the only route we had. Either that or wait them out, I didn't think they'd let us wait them out. Cal revved the engine, but stayed stationary. Glancing at me, I nodded. We had to go through the gate.

On the TV it always looks so easy, crashing through gates. But then again, they at least have a run upto it, we were only metres away from it, and still hoped to tear it from its hinges. He revved the car horribly, and pushed it into second gear. Releasing the handbrake, he shoved his foot to the floor and the car lurched forward, his hand whipped up through the gears and I threw my arm over my face as we crashed through the gate, the car struggled but eventually we flew out over the grass, he veered the car to loose the gate and then he stopped again. We both looked back.

The farmers were moving now, and a harmless old tractor that had been lying on the inside of the field had suddenly sputtered to life. I groaned, and we both watched spellbound for a minute as they approached, the flames flickering and dancing, seemingly laughing at our impending doom. I found myself taking in all their weapons, and remarking dryly, "You know, they've got every tool imaginable except a hoe…"

Cal gave me a fleeting look and replied, "That would be you". I cowered lower into my seat and pulled the belt across. The car sprang to life again as we skidded across the field, it was quite boggy and as we got closer to the woods the car became more and more entrenched in the mud. Progress became slower, until finally, the car shuddered to a halt. Cal pressed the pedal to the metal, and the wheels spun out. Our eyes met, and they mirrored despair.

I un-clicked my belt, and my hand groped into the glove box. I knew there was a knife in there, emergency knife for cutting the seat belt if you ever happened to be trapped. My finger found the uncovered edge and I swore as blood rose on the cut. My hand grasped the handle and I yanked it out from under the junk. I slipped the knife down the side of my skirt and shivered as the cool metal lay against my skin.

"Well?" I asked, while I anxiously watched their slow approach. They weren't in a rush. But then again, where were we going to go? Cal mulled it over; I could virtually see the cogs turning in his head. "We run", he whispered, flipping the locks open. I watched as he flung his door open and ran on the course the car had been taking, without even so much as a glance back for me. Well, fuck you too my mind screamed angrily at him, while a quieter inner voice murmured, wasn't that what got us in this problem in the first place?

I hushed it and unsteadily left the car. Placing a hand on my hip to hold the knife in place, I started to run after Cal. Hindered by the stupid fashion shoes I'd choose to wear, I stumbled, tumbled and ended up soaking wet from the night time dew, and plastered in mud. The night was not looking up. I wasn't gaining on Cal, but the farmers were gaining on me. So I stopped, and strangely, they stopped too. Maybe it wasn't so much fun if the prey just gave up.

They seemed to gather together, maybe discussing this strange occurrence, while I stood with my hands on my hips. I kicked the shoes off into the grass. They were ruined by now, and if I had to run again, I would probably manage better in my bare feet.

The man with the pitchfork, who I'd now decided to be their leader, motioned them all to keep coming, so I stood my ground and waited for them to reach me. My throat began to feel dry, as my vision picked out the gleam of recently sharpened tools in the torchlight, my imagination working overtime to find uses for each and every implement. But I had to remain calm, a plan was slowly forming in my head, I glanced over the field, Cal was gone. My eyes moved back to the farmers, they appeared to have hastened their pace, with the tractor bringing up the rear.

It took them a few minutes to reach me, and as their leader went to place a grubby hand on my shoulder, I ran. I cut around the car and tried to back track on the way we'd came. I heard their confusion, and I pushed myself as hard as I could, my breath coming in ragged spurts. Then I fell. At first I couldn't work out why I was suddenly lying on the ground, it took a few minutes for my brain to catch up that I'd been tackled and was now lying pinned under some unpleasant smelling brute who ran his rough fingertips along the curve of my face. He leaned into me, and forced his tongue into my mouth, I bit down as hard as I could, until I felt the dull metallic taste of his blood in my mouth, he jumped back and backhanded me across the jaw. Stars floated into my vision.

I fought futilely against his weight, kicking and screaming, like any damsel in distress should. Then I remembered the knife, I knew already it wasn't going to be much use, the minute they ran their callused hands over me they'd find it. My hand still lay on its hilt, I smiled at him and he moved closer again. I flipped the hilt back and felt it graze across his clothes, I held it poised, pointing at his gut, he edged that bit closer and I drove it with all the strength I had up into his stomach. Rolling off me, he lay gasping in the grass. I got shakily to my feet and started to run again.

I made it less than ten metres when I felt it hit me, it took me on my upper arm, and I stopped and stared at it. The dart protruded from my flesh, and I could feel the drug worming its way into my system. I cursed them, and my legs buckled from exhaustion. I didn't feel the need to run anymore, I only had five to ten minutes before the drug hit me, why bother fighting the inevitable?

They surrounded me in a circle, mumbling and grunting to each other, I pondered if they actually spoke English as the leader once again approached me. He climbed onto me, clawing the clothes from my body, as I lay there frozen. I could feel the effects of the drug start to wash over me; sleep snatched at the edges of my world, and the last thing I remember is he, plunging himself deep inside me. The final thought that drifted through my head was, are you sure it only hurts the first time?

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