Amy Watson was twenty-two and drop-dead gorgeous. She was tall and slim, exceedingly long legs, and with a set of proud 34D breasts on top, she was nearly everyone's wet dream. She had a younger brother, Callum, who was only eighteen, and had just left Robert Gordon's and would start University in September, and he thought so too, although he would never tell anyone.
Amy was not as bright as Callum, and although she could have got into university as well, as her parents had wished, she had decided to go to college instead and completed an HND in Beauty Therapy. It had got her a job in one of the top Beauty Salons in Aberdeen, catering for the rich oil workers wives, just like her mother. Between that, and some modelling on the side, she was more than happy.
In the middle of summer, a group of girls from the Salon had decided to go out clubbing after work. It was sort of a leaving 'do' for Claire, who was leaving to move down to Dundee the following week. The girls had got changed in the Salon after work, short cropped tight t-shirts and short elasticated skirts, showing off acres of flesh, and with their expertise in applying make-up, seven highly attractive women headed to Luigi's for some pasta before hitting the clubs.
It was still early, nearly eleven-thirty when they hit the club, but they knew they would be able to get a booth to sit in and look after their drinks, they didn't want anyone getting slipped a 'mickey'.
It wasn't quiet for long, and by twelve-thirty the place was heaving, and the drinks and dancing were in full swing. Out on the dance floor, Amy found herself being touched up by both males and females, which wasn't unusual, and Amy was comfortable with either sex. Unfortunately, and to Amy's frustration, no-one seemed willing to go any further. This was also not uncommon, and Amy often felt that it was her 'excessive' beauty that scared many of her potential sexual partners off. It led to many a frustrating night.
By two-thirty, the girls were starting to head home, so Amy did too. It had been a beautiful warm June evening, and already the sun was starting to think about rising again, so Amy, Julie and Chloe decided to walk home as they all lived in the same general direction. From the centre of town, they dropped down onto the Deeside Way, a derelict railway line, that used to wind its way out towards Braemar, but had been turned into a cycleway.
It was a great way to get out of town towards Cults where Amy lived, although it was a good three-mile walk. She had done it many a time, and in a lot more awful weather conditions than this balmy evening. Even though, she slipped on her denim jacket, if only to hide her prominent nipples as they poked through her thin t-shirt, the result of having been touched up and stepping out into the fresh air.
She soon said her goodbyes to her colleagues, as they peeled off towards their houses, and she continued along the well-paved track. The track was normally busy with walkers, joggers and cyclists, but at this time of the morning it was deserted and Amy walked along at a good pace still feeling the buzz of the drink, the dancing and the touching up she had received.
The track actually bordered the back of the garden of Amy's parent's house. It was a large, detached house with over an acre of gardens, so the house was nearly a hundred yards away from the track and still very private. The fence at the bottom of the garden contained a gate that gave easy access to the gardens, and this was where Amy was aiming for. Amy regularly used to come home through the backdoor, especially if she wished to avoid a confrontation with her mother when she staggered in drunk in the small hours.
It took Amy almost another thirty minutes to walk along the track until she recognised the section that her house was on. Another five minutes and she was standing at the gate, cursing and swearing as she found she was unable to open it. Unknown to her, her father had only recently had a lock fitted to the gate after they found a couple of trespassers wandering around the garden.
Amy was unwilling to walk back to where she could take a small avenue that would lead onto the road along the front of this avenue of houses. It would only have taken her ten minutes, but in her frustration, she decided just to climb over the short fence that separated the garden from the path.
The fence was only about chest height on Amy, and she had regularly climbed over it just a few years earlier, she was sure she could do it now, especially in her alcohol fuelled condition. She may not have been wearing the most appropriate of clothing, but just so she didn't hurt herself, she fastened her denim jacket.
Then she discovered that as well as a lock on the gate, her father had had two strands of barbed wire run along the top of the fence, one about sixteen inches above the top of the fence, the other a further twelve inches above that. Amy cursed again, she couldn't believe how stupid her father had been, or that she was unaware that this had happened.
Still, she couldn't be bothered to go the long way round.
Carefully, she looked at the gap between the top of the fence and the lower strand of barbed wire. It was a big gap. Amy was positive that her slim body would easily be able to slip through the gap, and having her denim jacket on would make it even easier.
Amy eased her head and shoulders easily though the gap and grinned to herself, no problem!
Then she reached her arms outwards to start to lift and ease the rest of her body through. That was when disaster struck. Never having been terribly sporty, Amy didn't have a lot of strength in her arms, especially in such a confined space or controlled situation. Suddenly, her left arm gave way, and she felt the elbow of her jacket hit, and become caught on the barbed wire. This unbalancing caused her right arm to buckle, and as she tried to catch herself, her right elbow also hit the barbed wire becoming snagged.
Although only an inch or two off the ground, as she dropped this short distance back onto the ground, she straightened her body, resulting in the barbed wire biting into her denim jacket along her shoulders. She was effectively pinned up on the fence, rather like a scarecrow.
Amy groaned at her own stupidity, and then had a little laugh at herself. What an idiot she had been, she would just disentangle herself then do the sensible thing and walk round to the front of the house.
However, that was when realisation suddenly struck home, Amy was stuck! Well and truly stuck!
The way the barbs had caught onto the jacket meant that Amy would have to lift herself up and off the spikes, either that or unbutton the jacket and slide out of it, but with her elbows caught on the barbed wire as well she couldn't get her hands free to unbutton the garment. She really was stuck and would need assistance.
Amy still struggled for about another five minutes until she resigned herself to having to wait for help. It had to be after four a.m. by now and even though it was a Sunday morning somebody would be along soon. Surely?
***
It was sooner than she thought.
No more than ten minutes later Amy heard some voices and in relief, she called out for help.
"Please!.... Please help me!.... I'm stuck!" she pleaded.
"Fuck!... Who's that?" came a gruff male voice.
"Over here!" Amy responded, still unaware of the danger she may be getting herself into.
Amy heard the approach of her saviour through the shrubs.
"Oh, thank goodness!" she gushed, "I got caught on the wire trying to climb over the fence, can you help me please?"
In this position, Amy could barely turn her head to see her saviours.
"Fuckin' Hell!" came the stunned cry from one male voice, as a second one let out a slow wolf whistle at the sight that greeted them.
Unbeknown to Amy, as she had slid back down onto the ground her short elasticated skirt had become even shorter and over half of her bum was exposed for her rescuers to see.
"Well, Sweet Cheeks, you seem to have got yourself in a bit of a pickle!" came the same gruff voice, only closer this time.
Amy was about to reply when she gasped in shock, as a cool hand swept up the outside of her right leg, across her exposed bum cheeks and down between her legs.
"Oh my God!" gasped Amy, "What are you doing?"
"Admiring the view, Beautiful," came the cocky response from the second man.
Two hands were now stroking Amy's arse, and she squirmed as she tried, impossibly, to get away from them. One of the hands took a firm hold of one of her cheeks and squeezed it hard, digging their nails in. The other hand was sliding its way back and forward between her legs, over her labia, pushing the thin strip of material between her lips.
"Please don't.." whimpered Amy, pleading, as she suddenly realised there was nothing she could do about it.
"Why not, Sweet Cheeks?" asked the first voice again, "We're your Knights in shining armour!"
