There was no doubt in Gina’s mind. They were following her. She was used to young
testosterone charged men following behind, giving her appreciative wolf-whistles and
declaring their endless love for her. This after all was Rio de Janeiro, the place of sun,
sea and passion. This was the game played every day. The young bucks jostled for
permission, displaying their talents in the hope that the female would grant them her time
and give them what every young man wants. Pussy is all any man wants. Of course, the
mating rituals are complicated and necessary. It gave choice, and in the city of passion,
there were more than six million choices.
These guys though, were farther behind than usual and they were not trying to gain
her attention. They were big and packed with bulging muscles. Every time Gina turned to
look at them, they looked away. All three of them were dressed in black leather jackets,
turned up collars and drainpipe trousers. They didn’t look local. Gina was sure they were
the same three that followed her home in the early hours of the morning. It was still dark
when she left the club, so she couldn’t be sure. Gina’s sixth sense told her to be very
careful.
Gina turned left off Farme de Amoedo road onto Visc de Piraja. The pavement was
wider here. She quickened her pace. Eyes scanned in front, looking for the safety of
people. People would help her feel a little safer. Hit by a pang of panic, Gina could see
no one. At daybreak, there were precious few people around.
Just two blocks and she would come to Viera Souto Avenue, the main southern through
fair that skirted Ipanema Beach. This was one of the busiest roads in Rio. A kilometre to
the East and a short cut down Gomes Carneivo Outo takes you to Atlantica Avenue and
Copacabana. Like Cristo Redentor and Sugar Loaf Mountain, Copacabana is an icon for Rio,
but like all icon’s, it bustled with tourists. Tourists meant cheaply made trinkets,
street artists and organised crime. Local’s stayed away. Ipanema is where any
self-respecting young local went and that is where Gina went every morning after work.
There, she would find people opening their beachfront businesses and lovers making their
way homeward after a serious night’s romance on the best beach in the world.
At just nineteen, Gina had already made a name for herself amongst the Latino
nightclubs. There she sang and danced in outrageous costumes. Last night was a huge hit.
She performed naked, except for a skimpy white g-string and a pair of white angel’s wings.
In Brazil and especially in Rio, bare breasts were an everyday and accepted part of life.
At Carnival, in nightclubs or on the beach, nakedness and wobbling bum cheeks made for
good entertainment. Gina’s little black book was full of telephone numbers from admirers.
Although she refused every offer of a relationship, she never went a week without fucking
someone new, and like most girls in the twenty-first century, she enjoyed a little
girl-on-girl from time to time.
Glancing over her shoulder, Gina’s heart skipped, they were still following and
getting much closer. Just one more block to go. She could see traffic shooting down Viera
Souto. None turned into Visc de Piraja.
Everyone in Rio was on edge, as reports of kidnappings continued. The police
admitted the cases were baffling. Especially, as the frequency of missing young girls had
increased in recent weeks. Gina pulled a face. Everyone knew why they were baffled. They
were too stupid and too lazy to do anything. Rumours were ripe that police officers were
on the take and that the kidnappings were just the latest, in a long line of lucrative
moneymaking scams. The word everywhere was don’t go out alone!
Gina breathed in deeply. They were close, but Vieira Souto was even closer. Up
ahead, she noticed a young man leaning against a wall. He wore black ‘winkle-pickers’,
black drainpipe trousers and a black, skintight T-shirt. His arm muscle clenched and
bulged as he lifted a hand to his mouth, pulling a cigarette and flinging into the road.
His hair, long, swept back and shinning in the morning sun, enveloped in swirling smoke.
As it cleared, his other hand forced fingers through his jet-black hair. Their eyes met.
He smiled acknowledgement at her, even though Gina did not recognise him. It didn’t
matter, he was people and this strangely out of place guy looked friendly and able to take
care of himself.
Gina hurried her pace. Weighed down with her day sack, large towel for lying on,
small towel for drying, hair brush, sun oil, sun glasses, spare bikini, spare shorts,
spare T-shirt, i-pod, ear phones, make-up, lipstick, fresh breath mints, purse, mobile
phone, sexy fiction novel, the latest copy of Vogue, cigarettes, lighter, spare lighter
and a hat, made her a little out of breath.
‘Mobile phone!’
She could call someone, but who? Who could get here quickly and anyway everyone she
knew would still be in bed. She could call the police, but they would be useless, besides,
trying to locate her phone in the bottom of her sack would slow her down.
Looking at her watch, Gina felt a little sigh of relief. If she could get this guy
between her and the ones following, that might slow them down enough for her to quickly
cross the Vieira Souto. At a little after six, there would definitely be enough people on
the beach to make her feel safe. There might even be a police car. They often spent their
on-duty time, ogling the mostly-naked, local girls stretched out on the golden sands. If
she found a spot in front of them, she would definitely be safe.
Yelping in surprise, Gina realised that they had closed in on her rapidly. They
were a mere ten meters away.
‘Help me!’
Gina pleaded. Her eyes begged the guy with long shining black hair to help her. His
response was immediate. Taking a step forward, he grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her
back and threw her up against a parked van.
‘Please no!’
Gina’s cry fell on deaf, uncaring ears. Blackness descended, as a sack, hurriedly
forced over her head, made her scream. The sound of worn out plastic runners sliding over
weary metal, preceded a pull and then a hefty push and Gina found herself inside the van.
The sliding door closed with a slam.
‘Be quiet little girl or I will slit your throat open!’
His accent wasn’t local. Gina couldn’t place it, Central America?
She struggled. She tried desperately to break free, but forceful hands held her
down.
‘I said be quiet!’
A sharp smack to the face is all it took. Gina whimpered as she cried. She shook
from head to toe as endless frenzied hands tore at her clothing. Her T-shirt fell away,
ripped into a dozen pieces. At the same time, she felt hauled into mid air. Aggressive
hands pulled violently at her denim shorts. She felt the tight waistband come loose, as
her belt, button and zip came undone. Suddenly they were around her knees, her ankles and
then gone. Her almost none existent bikini lasted only a second, both ripped away from her
amazingly slim and youthful body.
Naked, they hoisted her up onto tiptoe. Cold steel snapped around her wrists and
ankles. Gina struggled to maintain her balance as the van swung violently around corners.
Their callous laughter seemed to surround her. Their conversation, turned into her
worst nightmare.
‘This one’s got a really cute ass!’
Gina felt a hand grip one of her cheeks firmly and shake it back and fore.
‘Yeah, her pussy looks good too. Why don’t we have some fun and keep this one for
ourselves?’
‘Don’t be a fool. This one’s a singer as well as a dancer. Carlos will pay a good
price for her.’
‘Oh man, she’s driving me crazy. Look at her; her body is sweating. I tell you man,
she really wants it. I bet her pussy is wet!’
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