It was going to be a very hot day at the races. Temperatures were predicted for the 90s and Traci's family had seats in the uncovered grandstands. Knowing that infield parking would be full when they arrived, Traci's father decided to pull into one of the many houses surrounding the track that offered cheap parking in the yard. A muscular man in his early 30s told him to pull around behind the house. The car followed the driveway until a second, younger man directed Traci's father to pull off into the back yard.
Traci, her 20-year-old brother Joe, her mother, Carol, and her father, John, piled out into the heat. They all wore shorts and t-shirts except for Traci, who preferred showing off her 18-year-old body in a tank top. The younger man approached the family and Traci's father pulled out his wallet. The man stood directly in front of John and said, "You won't need that."
John looked down to see a small, silver handgun pointed at his stomach. The other members of the family were near the trunk removing two coolers. Carol was the first to see the gun and let out a loud gasp. She instinctively held Traci's arm and pulled her closer.
"Don't anyone scream or he's dead," the man said. "Close the trunk, grab the coolers and follow me into the house."
The older man had joined them now and followed the procession inside the back door. They passed through a kitchen and moved into a spacious living room. The house was old, but the rooms were large and bright with dark wood paneling highlighting painted walls.
Traci and Joe were told to place the coolers by the wall. Joe looked quickly around the room for anything that might serve as a weapon if the opportunity arose, but it appeared to him the room had been purposely stripped of any large objects. Two couches, two overstuffed chairs, a high back wood chair and a large wood coffee table filled the room. The drapes were pulled tight, but there was plenty of light.
"Nice of you to pull in," the older man said. "Brian, here, has put out the 'full' sign, so we shouldn't be disturbed. You can call me Pete. You'll be calling me worse than that before the day's done."
Brian laughed as he bent down to open one of the coolers.
"We didn't expect a car with two lovely ladies in it quite this early," Pete continued. "Must be our lucky day. And yours, cuz we aim to please."
Brian pulled a beer from a cooler and untwisted the cap. He threw the cap into the kitchen and took a long drink.
"That's not a good sign," Pete said, frowning. "Brian gets kind 'a wild when he drinks. We better get started."
Pete pointed the gun at Traci's father and told him to take off his t-shirt. When that was off, he made John sit in the high back chair and, pulling a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket, handcuffed the man's hands behind the chair's wooden back.
"No, please," Carol pleaded.
"Shut up," Brian yelled. "We'll tell you when to talk."
While her father was being cuffed to the chair, Traci was considering escape possibilities. She knew the front door would take too long to open, so she settled on a route through the kitchen to the back door. Brian had moved several feet away from the opening separating the kitchen from the living room. Traci and Brian were probably equal distance from the door, but she'd have the advantage of a head start, she concluded.
As the cuffs snapped closed around her father's wrists and with both of their captors concentrating on John, Traci took off.
"Hey, stop," Brian shouted.
"Traci," Carol screamed.
The young girl was in the kitchen. She threw a chair down behind her as she passed the table and continued running for the door. She heard the man close behind her and the sound of the chair being kicked aside. Traci reached for the knob on the back door, turned it and flung the door open. As she pushed the storm door open, a hand grabbed her shirt from behind.
The shirt pulled tight against her bare breasts. She tried to step through the open door, but a second hand tugged at the top of her shirt behind her neck. The tank top rose and pressed hard against her throat. She heard ripping fabric as she was pulled backward into the house. The shirt tore open at one shoulder and she lurched forward again.
However, the other arm was still inside the tank top and with one great yank, she was hauled into the kitchen. Traci spun around with the force of the tug and the man pushed her toward the table. She stumbled over the fallen chair and put her hands out to stop her fall before smashing into the table. Brian was behind her now, and put his full weight against her.
Traci was doubled over the table with her attacker pressed against her butt. A sudden, violent jerk removed her tank top completely. She could hear his heavy breathing. One hand pressed against her left shoulder, while the other groped at her right breast. He squeezed it viciously and she shrieked in pain. She could feel his hard cock push against her ass through their clothes.
"Brian, bring her in here," she heard the older man yell from the living room.
"We're coming," Brian yelled back.
He pulled Traci up from the table, holding her arm tightly. He leaned back and pushed the back door closed again, then guided Traci toward the living room. When they entered the room, all eyes were on Traci's bare chest.
She had full breasts that didn't need a bra for support. The red imprints of Brian's fingers were still fading.
"Holy shit, look at this," Pete exclaimed. "That's as fine a pair of tits as I've seen in ages. Come here, sweetie."
Brian let the girl go, but stayed between her and the kitchen. Traci folded her arms in front of her and walked over to the older man.
"Drop your arms," Pete ordered.
She obeyed and watched him leer at each tit repeatedly.
"Turn around," he said.
The man pulled a second set of handcuffs from the drawer of a nearby desk. He pulled Traci's arms behind her and fastened the cuffs
around her wrists.
"We have plans for you. We can't have you disappearing on us again," Pete said. "Now, lets get started. Mom, why don't you come over here and remove your husband's shorts."
Carol was shaking as she moved towards her bound husband. She hesitated and said in a cracking voice, "Please don't make..."