After the movie, Jolene’s boyfriend Ham takes her up in the mountains in his borrowed car. They park and look down to where their town is all lighted up. Boys know this place. It’s far enough away that a girl can’t reach home on foot, at least not without getting 50,000 mosquito bites, so she either has to submit, fight back, or negotiate. Jolene agrees to get in the back seat, expecting only a few hugs and kisses before her curfew kicks in and he takes her home.

Ham wants to pull her jeans and panties down and stick his fat pecker in good and deep. Jolene begins to lose the wrestling match. Out of desperation, she offers him a deal. She says she’ll let him feel her up for 5 minutes, whatever he wants, if he takes her home right afterwards, but she won’t take off any of her clothes.

He agrees, but there’s an unfortunate misunderstanding. Jolene means he can touch her only over her clothes. So when Ham starts caressing her tits on top of her sweater, that’s OK. But somehow he gets his other hand under the top of her jeans, inside her panties even, and one finger snakes down and parts her slit. She’s too scared to pull away. Success makes him bold. He pulls out his prick and makes her stroke it a few times before he spurts his dirty stuff right on her best sweater.

When they pull up in front of her house, she tells him she doesn’t want to see him anymore, and he says that’s fine because she’s just a cock tease and he can get what he needs from plenty of other girls.

When she goes in, she’s crying and not in the mood to hear what comes next, which is her father yakking on about her being an hour past her curfew and how he was, like, real worried, and it’s like, totally bogus and unfair, it’s not her fault she’s late, she’s not a little girl any more, lots of girls her age have later curfews or none at all. And he says she’s grounded for two weeks, and she says why don’t you totally ruin my life and make it four, and he says OK, and she runs in her bedroom and shuts the door and flops face down on the bed crying.

When she’s sure her father has gone to bed she goes into the bathroom and tries to fix her face and get the stain out of her sweater. She washes out her panties where

Ham got her wet. She gets in the shower, shampoos, soaps off the dried sweat, goes back to her room, hauls out her secret $197.00 stash, packs a small bag, writes a farewell note, sets the alarm early, and gets a little rest.

At 6AM she’s got her thumb up in the State College area where lots of kids hitch, along comes this cute VW bug, on the side is a decal of flowers and above it is says “Peace” and below it says “Love”, all in that groovy lettering she’s seen on TV, very cool. Well, it’s 1965, she knows to be careful, she’d never get in a car with a hippie or more than one man, but when she pops the door, there’s just one clean cut guy about 20 smiling at her, she’s 16 and knows all about men, she’s got a vibe he’s OK, so she hops in. His name is Ted.

He asks where she’s going, the road runs west so that’s what she says. He sees her puffy eyes and her case. He says he’s going to L.A., she gets excited and asks if he’ll take her with, he says OK. But already she’s wondering about the sleeping arrangements. He’s more handsome than Ham, more mature.

Fifteen minutes later they’re tooling along, not much traffic this time of day, when suddenly he reaches over and grabs her left wrist with one hand and with the other pulls out a handcuff from under a pile of trash between the seats and snaps it on, all in 5 seconds so they don’t crash. And she yells and jerks away, but the other half of the cuff is locked through the floor where he’s drilled a couple holes, so she’s caught good. She gets mad and starts calling him names. He balls up his hand and punches her hard on her left cheek. She starts crying, a trickle of blood coming out of the corner of her mouth. After a while she asks him what he wants.

“What color are your nipples?”

She blushes and won’t answer. He asks again, and again, and again. He grabs her bruised cheek and pinches.

“Pink.”

“Prove it.”

“If I do, will you pull over and let me out, I won’t tell anyone, I know you’re just fooling, OK?”

He says OK, so she lifts up her sweater and unbuttons her blouse, pulls it open, lifts up each cup separately and holds the bra up to her neck so he can see. He says she looks very nice. He says it makes him horny.

Now he’s supposed to be slowing down to let her out, but he isn’t, not at first. Then he does, and she catches her breath. Maybe he’s really going to let her go, maybe he’s basically harmless, maybe she was right from the start.

Maybe he won’t even want to do as much as Ham did, but he’s got her so spooked that if he told her to rub him a little down there she’d do it. She’s afraid to cover up. It might make him angry. If he wants to feel her bare breasts a little bit before he lets her go, well, no harm done. In fact, she’d do just about anything to get away from this creep.

But he’s just slowing to turn on a country road, and pretty soon he’s off that, too, bouncing slowly along on what looks like an old logging trail, not too good for a bug, but as soon as they are in the woods he stops. It is isolated. He grabs her hair and forces her to kiss him while he plays with her nipples. She gives him the tongue he wants.

He gets out of the car and comes around to her side, opens the door. He starts pulling down her jeans and panties too, and she can’t fight him off very good one-handed. When they’re all around her ankles she keeps her legs closed real tight so he can’t, like, see her vagina or anything. He gets right down and takes a good look at her tightly closed slit, then reaches behind her seat and pulls out a couple of army blankets and walks off into the woods.

When he comes back he pulls off her shoes, socks, jeans, and panties. He gets a short rope out of the glove compartment and ties her ankles together. He takes out another set of handcuffs and cuffs her free hand to her imprisoned one, then opens up the old cuff. He puts his hands under her arms and drags her out of the car and into the woods. He lays her down on the blankets and sits across her hips facing her feet so she can’t get away while he unties her ankles and fixes one foot to a sapling. He pulls out another piece of rope from his pocket and ties the other foot to another tree. Now she’s spread good and wide. He uncuffs her and pulls off the rest of her clothes. A few minutes later she’s completely naked and spread-eagled, restrained at all four points. He starts running his hands over her body. Her breasts are kind of flattened from being on her back but he doesn’t seem to mind. He spends most of the time below her waist, anyway.

“I, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t hurt me.”  She’s  shaking. He says nothing, just stares at her face, watching her reaction as he undresses. She closes her eyes when he slides down his boxers, but only after she sees he’s completely ready.

He climbs aboard and she feels something like a giant thumb pressing between her legs, followed by a sharp pain, and she can feel he’s already in. It’s not too bad now, kind of uncomfortable but OK.  He’s thrusting up and down vigorously.

Suddenly his hands are around her throat, pressing down hard. She starts tossing her head from side to side, unsuccessfully trying to break his grip. She’s going under.

He releases his hands and she draws in a sharp sweet breath.

“Listen, bitch, I want you to give me a little hip action while we fuck. I like a girl who bears down on my cock and twists around like she really enjoys it. And talk dirty while you’re fucking me.”

She’s terrified now. She tries to do everything he asks.

She starts moaning, moving her butt, squeezing down. “Oh, fuck me, fuck me hard, stick it in all the way, fuck, fuck, yes.”  Unconvincingly. He frowns. She’s afraid if she doesn’t please him he’s going to kill her. She redoubles her efforts. Suddenly she has a crazy thought. She doesn’t want to die without knowing…

“What’s your name?”

A bad mistake. He doesn’t answer, but his hands are once more around her throat. Now she’s really fighting for her life, tossing her hips from side to side trying to throw him off, giving him a real thrill. But her vision is failing. A thought comes to her.

“He’s still going to be fucking me after I’m dead.”

The last thing she hears, as if from far away, is his voice. “I’m Bundy, Ted Bundy.”

Then all is dark.