The girl stepped back, her eyes saucered, breasts heaving wildly. She was excited and frightened at the same time. He had only meant to scare her, but she had been teasing him . . . taunting him. Now the anger and frustration, combined with the sight of her, surged in him. He felt a desire so strong it was painful. His bowel twisted, and the sweat stood out on his forehead. He walked toward her. Her eyes widened and she backed away, trying desperately to escape. She tried to get past him, but he stepped to the right and blocked her.
She was crying now, her make-up running down her cheeks. Her breasts were pitching in and out with every sob. All he could see was the way her tits stood out. She obviously wore no bra. The thought made his prick stand up straight and hard.
He pinned her in the corner. She tried to push him away but she might as well push the wall down. He set his feet wide and made a grab for her sweater. The material gave and he could see her skin - pink, firm and enticing. He tore the sweater all the way to her waist.
She tried to scream but his other hand gripped her mouth. She was terrified. Her eyes begged him, but he pushed her head against the wall hard enough to make her dizzy and scare her more.
"I don't want any noise out of you, understand?" he growled.
She shrank from him and tried to hunch down as far back in the corner as she could.
He pulled the zipper of her skirt down, and she heard the tear of fabric.
She screamed -a high-pitched tearing sound that seemed to echo and bounce through the room. He belted her in the stomach with a blow hard enough to drive the wind out of her and bend her double.
She was beyond offering any resistance to him now, and he pulled the skirt down past her hips. As it fell to her ankles, he tore her panties away with an impatient jerk. Losing her balance, she fell to the floor.
He opened the front of his pants and dropped them to the floor, and then ripped away his shorts. She sickened with terror at the sight of him. His cock was stiff and hard . . . and so immense!
He came down to her and brutally jerked her thighs apart with his hands. She tried to close them, but he raised his hand and slapped her across the face. She whimpered and stopped resisting.
For a moment he hesitated, appalled at what he was about to do, and the consequence that would follow. Then his overwhelming desire crowded out all logical thought, and he moved over her body to cover her. She let out a scream. He put his hand over her mouth, menacingly.
He pinned her with his weight. She was writhing in panic under him. He jabbed his hand between his legs and took his cock in his hand. It was hot and slippery to his touch. Centering it on her slit, he pushed, forcing it part way in. She lay paralyzed and still, waiting for his next move. Her eyes were glazed with shock and pain.
"No ... no ... no ... no ..." she moaned.
He ignored her plea. His body had taken possession of his mind and he was beyond everything except his own need, his own burning hunger.
Her nails dug into the floor. Her lips whimpered of pain. Close to passing out, she caught herself and started to scream again.
He grabbed her hair and rammed her head against the floor hard enough to stun her. It choked off her scream and she lay quiet.
He worked his hips up and down quickly - savagely, then pumped ruthlessly in and out of her. He was moaning - grunting like an animal. Then with a shudder of release, he shot his cum deep into her ravished gut.
He was breathing a heavy sigh of relief when he heard a pounding at the door. He looked up with a sudden surge of fear. His mind had begun to clear and he was sick with fright. He jumped away, threw on his clothes and made a dash for the window. He was out and running desperately, frantically. Behind him he could hear her screaming, "He attacked me! He raped me! RAPE!"
CHAPTER ONE
There is a story which has been told for many years about a man who was charged with rape. He denied the charge, but the prosecution put the allegedly raped woman on the stand. She swore that the defendant did, in fact, rape her. His lawyer approached the judge and handed him a piece of thread. He held up a large needle - one with an eye big enough for many pieces of thread to pass through - and asked the judge to insert the thread.
Each time the judge tried, though, the lawyer would move the needle a little bit, just enough to cause the judge to miss the eye. This
supposedly proved that no woman could be raped against her will. The judge supposedly dismissed the charges against the defendant.
Interesting as this story might be, it simply has no basis in fact. Given a determined man, and a woman who is anything less than a lady wrestler or weightlifter, rape is not only possible, but usually quite easy. It can be accomplished through the application of brute strength; it can be accomplished by a man taking advantage of the hysterical shock that the idea of rape often causes in women; and, as a last resort, rape can be accomplished by the simple expedient of rendering the woman unconscious.
Prostitution has often been called the "oldest profession," and if it is, then surely rape must be the "oldest consequence." Throughout history, man has engaged in the "sport" he calls war: between nations, between clans, between cities, between tribes, and even between families.
The rape of the women of the defeated by the conquerors has been an accepted practice. And, some historians and anthropologists think, one with a sound biological and sociological reason.
The prime reason for almost all war has been the acquisition of territory, and what better way to secure and hold territory than to impregnate the females of that territory with the seed of the conquerors? The casualties of war are almost always the young men who would, in the normal course of events, produce the next generation. The rape of the females insures, therefore, that there will be another generation, and since nature apparently assists in eliminating the effects of war by making multiple births much more common in the two or three generations immediately following a natural disaster or war, it is not unusual to find that within two or three generations the population has returned to or exceeded prewar or disaster numbers.
Rape is, of course, not a pastime limited to victorious soldiers. In any society - war or peace - men rape women, and the reasons for rape are numerous. Until recently the principal reason for rape was the desire by a man for a specific woman, one who had rejected his advances. If the desire was strong enough, and the fear of punishment for his act light enough, the man would take what he wanted, whether the woman concerned was willing or not. In many societies this sort of event was considered to be a matter to be settled, should settlement be desired, between the man and the family of the raped female. It was not considered to be a matter affecting the entire social body unless the woman was married. In later years, however, and continuing to the present, there has been a steady increase of rapes for psychological reasons - rape committed by men who are defective mentally in the area of sexual balance.
Generally, rape currently falls into eight broad categories. There is, of course, some overlapping, and some cases which fall into none of the groupings, even some which fall into more than one category. But most cases can be classified into one or another of the following categories.
Spoils-of-war. This does not necessarily require a war, merely the psychological climate thereof. A man who has defeated another man, whether in physical combat or perhaps even the combat of business operations, will often desire to rape the woman of the man he has defeated as an expression of his complete domination over the loser.
Thrill. This is often a group affair, engaged in by men who are, under normal circumstances, well-balanced sexually. The "gang-bangs" of hoodlum groups and rape of girls found alone by very young men fall into this category, and indeed, most reported rapes of this type are committed by very young men.
Pathological. This is the form of rape that most often makes newspaper headlines. The rapist is sexually unbalanced mentally, either constitutionally unable to have normal sexual relations with a woman, or able to enjoy the sex act only when it is committed without the consent of the woman and accompanied by the use of force. The rapist actively seeks out a victim, any victim.
Passion. Rape for passionate reasons is, as mentioned earlier, the rape of a woman by a man who desires her and only her, but who has been rejected by the woman.
Momentary urge. In this form of rape it has often been found that the woman who has been raped is at least partially responsible. The man is usually well-balanced sexually, and under normal circumstances would never consider taking a woman against her will, but the woman will lead him on, never intending to follow through, and take him to the breaking point. This is commonly termed "Prick Teasing" and he has to complete the act even though she resists. This form of rape often happens when the man is under the strong influence of alcohol.
Subconscious desire by the woman. Properly, this should not be termed rape, since the woman actively desires sexual intercourse, but, many women are, for psychological reasons, unable to accept the sex act unless they are "forced," and some feel afterwards, that they must report the act to authorities as a rape.
Punishment. This form of rape is seldom, but not always, completely unpremeditated. For one reason or another the man involved is punishing the woman through the application of physical violence. This type of violence has a strong sexual excitement, which leads to a rape of the woman.
Statutory. Like rape through the subconscious desire of the woman involved, statutory rape is not properly rape at all. It's simply a legal violation, even when the woman fully cooperates in the sex act. The only factor which determines the difference between sexual intercourse and statutory rape is the age of the female involved.
Because of the stigma attached to rape, many assaults are never reported to the authorities, therefore it is impossible to determine accurately just how prevalent rape is in contemporary society. After interviewing hundreds of rapists and rape victims, however, we have come to the conclusion that it is much more common than is generally thought. In the following chapters we have presented a cross-section of the case histories in our files, and it is hoped that, after studying them, the reader will have a fuller understanding of both the psychological and physical aspects of the rape as a means of sexual gratification.
CHAPTER TWO
Case History No. 1
Our first case history is about Sammy "the Sticker." He is presently incarcerated in a mental institution. But, fortunately, we were able to interview him during one of his more rational moments.
Sammy, the girl involved, and the group that administered his punishment for his act were all members of a West Coast motorcycle gang.
Sammy's case history fits into the "Spoils of War" grouping, but there are strong pathological overtones.
"This whole bunch of shit started one night when someone tried to rip off Johnny's bike. Johnny, in case you don't know already, is our Prez, and without his scoot he's nothing.
"Johnny had a bunch of alarms set up in his garage, so he knew what was happening as soon as the garage door was busted open. Then he pulled a stupid. He went charging out to the garage. Of course, they were waiting for him. Someone bopped him on the head. He was out of it for almost half-an-hour.
"Johnny had more than one alarm rigged, though, and the last one was a bell that you could hear two blocks away. When it went off I guess the cats that were trying to rip off the scoot panicked, 'cause they spilled some gas out of the cans that Johnny had in the garage and someone dropped a match. Guess they realized that they weren't going to be able to get away with the bike, and they wanted to get rid of any fingerprints before they split.
"Luckily, the fire department was on the ball. The garage was saved, but Johnny's bike was a total loss. What a bummer! Johnny put out the word that he wanted to know who had tried to pull the rip off. It had to be people, bikers, that is. Citizens wouldn't have known how to go after the bike, where it was kept, or anything like that. It had to be people from another club.
"Sure enough, we got the word that it was the Rebels, from across the bay, who had tried to pull the job. They'd been envious of our rep for a long time, and I guess they were tryin' to build a rep of their own by rippin' off Johnny's bike. Like, they was tryin' to prove that they were so bad they could walk right into our territory and take the bike away from our prez. That woulda been a put-down that woulda ruined us. Every biker in the state woulda laughed at us. We had to do something about it. That something was war.
"Johnny called a meeting. He was really steaming when he got the whole club together. He laid down the word, hard and heavy. By the time he finished talking we all knew that we had a total war on our hands.
"He split us up into two groups, one to hit the bar where the Rebels hung out, and one to hit their clubhouse. He figured to hit them right then, that night, before they would be expecting us.
Johnny pulled me aside. He told me that he had a special job for me to do. He wanted me to hit Chino's pad. Chino was the president of the Rebels, the man who had given the order to rip off Johnny's bike, and the man that Johnny wanted to get in the worst way. He told me to hit the place. If Chino was there I was to head back right away and let him know. If Chino wasn't there I was to rip off his old lady and take her to my pad, then sit tight till I heard from him.
"I really had to move, 'cause I had to take my bike home and get my car. I had to get over to Chino's pad before the night's action ended and, before all the Rebels started meetin' there to plan a return attack. I took a couple of short cuts, ran a few red lights, and got there just in time to see a bike leaving, most likely Chino's. Taking a big chance, I walked right in the door without ringing the bell, and there was the chick, layin' on the couch watchin' the tube. Man, she was a real knockout. Long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a body I coulda eaten like a candy bar.
" 'Come on, cunt. Let's get going,' I ordered. I was in a real hurry 'cause at any time, a bunch of Rebels might show up.
"She started fighting me. 'What? Who are you? Let go of me! I'm not going anywhere with you!' She tried to hold back, dragging her feet, but I just kept pulling her toward the door.
" 'Chick, you ain't got no choice,' I told her, and I let her look at my blade, an old Army carbine bayonet. Her eyes got wide and, man, she stopped all her arguing and fighting then.
"We just barely made it out in time. I got her in the car, and when I turned the corner at the end of the block I saw a bunch of scooters sliding to a stop at the curb in front of Chino's pad. I really hustled that car across the bay, and in fifteen minutes we were safe in my pad. I dropped the chick on my couch, checked to make sure all the shades were down tight and both doors locked, then I opened a can of suds.
"I offered the chick some suds, but she just shook her head and sort of glared at me. She was smart enough to keep her mouth shut. I ignored her, turned on the tube, and settled down to wait for Johnny to show.
"Pretty soon I began to get a little sleepy. I wasn't worried about not hearing Johnny when he showed up 'cause he had a key to my pad. I was worried about dozing off and letting the chick get away. I used some clothesline to tie her to the couch, and then I did doze off.
"I woke up quick, though, when I felt my bayonet sliding out of my belt. Somehow she had gotten one hand free, and she snatched the blade away before I could grab it. I lunged at her, trying to pin that free arm, but I was still sort of fuzzy-headed, and I missed. When I fell across her the knife flashed down, and, Oh, God, the pain! It brought me wide awake. She laid my face open, a long cut that ran from my forehead to my chin. I tried to get away from her when she raised that damn knife again, but I just wasn't fast enough. I ducked, but I felt the sharp edge burning as it sliced off my ear, and then cut into my shoulder.
"I yelled with rage and pain, and I grabbed at her again. I got her arm and brought it up and then down across my knee. I could hear her arm snap. She started moaning and crying. Her fingers opened and the knife fell to the floor. I scooped up the knife from the rug and stood in front of her.
"I felt the slash on my face, and then the stump where my ear had been. All across my shoulder there was a dull, throbbing ache. Blood was running down my arm and dripping off my hand. I guess my anger took over my pain and I went completely mad.
"With strength I didn't know I had, I ripped her blouse open, and cut the straps of her bra with the razor-sharp edge of the bayonet. When the straps fell away from those big, juicy tits I sliced a neat "X", about a quarter-inch deep, right in the center of each nipple. That would teach the bitch to be more careful who she was cutting!
"She started screaming, so I slapped her. Not hard enough to knock her out, but hard enough to stop that damn noise. When she quieted down, I began thinking . . . and it hit me! This was Chino's chick, the cunt that belonged to the Rebel president, and I had ripped her off. Me, Sammy the Sticker, and I had her all to myself!
"The sight of her big lacerated tits, with the blood running from them down across her belly, really gave me a hard-on. I had to have her! I sliced away her skirt and panties. I guess I cut her across the stomach and thighs, but I didn't care what I was doing to her. I just wanted to strip her and get her completely in my power.
"She was moaning, sobbing, twisting around, and fighting the ropes. Her eyes almost bugged from her head as she watched me pop open the buttons on my tight Levi's and let my hard cock spring out.
"I dropped down over her. I felt the sweat and blood on my body mix with the hot, wet blood on hers. It made a slippery mixture that helped slide my prick right over her slit. I shoved my cock into her - deep, hard, and fast. I really wanted to hurt her.
"Her whole body tightened under me, then she began to squirm against the ropes, fighting to get away from my driving cock. I pumped my cock in and out - full force. I still had my bayonet in my hand. As I pumped into her, I lifted it and pressed the edge against her throat. I only pushed a little, just enough to break the skin. I could see a few drops of blood along the edge of the blade. Her eyes flew open, and I saw the stark fear and horror in them . . . the fear of death.
I had a feeling of power in my mind and body that surged from my head right down to my driving cock . . . mixing with the heat that was building there. With a final plunge I shot my wad into her gut.
"I don't remember too clear, but I guess when I went off I drew the blade slowly across her throat. I opened a second redly smiling mouth, and a gush of hot blood shot up into my face.
"It was fantastic. My body responded to everything. I kept coming and coming, again and again, as she died beneath me.
"After what seemed like hours, it was over. I pulled my cock out of her dead pussy and stood up and stepped away. Just then the door opened, and Johnny stood there."
At this point in the interview, Sammy became confused and started looking blankly around, mumbling, "Where is it . . . ? I gotta find it . . . Man, I need it." Then, slowly, his eyes focused again and he realized I was waiting for him to continue his narrative.
"Johnny took one look at the scene, and signaled in several of my buddies. Guys I had been riding with for years. They took my blade away from me. Then they tied me to a chair. I couldn't understand what was happening . . . why they were tying me up. Johnny didn't say a word . . . nobody did. Then I saw Chino in the doorway. He looked at his dead chick, then came at me. Johnny stopped him, though, and pretty soon he quieted Chino down. I still couldn't understand why they had tied me, but I figured that everything would be okay. Then they gave Chino my knife. But, why? Why did they want Chino to kill me? Why? Maybe I shouldn't have snuffed the chick, but, shit, it was war. They tried to rip off Johnny's bike, didn't they?
"Another Rebel came in, and Chino said something to him. The guy came over to me, then pulled my Levi's down. Chino stepped up, and with one terrible slice of the knife he cut off my cock. Oh, God. The pain was horrible! It was like someone had set off a bomb between my legs. I guess I was lucky, 'cause I passed out after a couple of minutes.
"I remember waking up a couple of times after that, but everything was hazy. The next thing I remember clearly was waking up here, in this nut-house. They asked me a lot of questions about who had done it, and all that, but, of course I wouldn't tell them. What I can't understand is why they won't let me out, though. I mean, I've got to get back to my pad and find my cock. I need it, man. I need it bad!"
In Sammy's case we have an excellent example of something that we have found to be quite prevalent in rape cases. The fact that he is puzzled in regard to his punishment. He has justified his actions to himself, and convinced himself that either he had every right to commit the attack, or that the girl involved did, in fact, desire the attack. He cannot understand why others do not see this justification. This strongly indicates that punishment is not a deterrent to rape, and is an effective argument for those who would treat the rapist as a sick person, rather than as a criminal.
It is also interesting to note that the particular subsection of society to which Sammy belonged inflicted their own form of punishment for his act. The act that so obviously put Sammy outside the pale of even their own liberal rules of proper conduct. They decreed a punishment far more severe than anything the courts might have imposed. A punishment so severe that it did lasting damage to Sammy's mind. It is doubtful if he will ever be released from the mental institution.
CHAPTER THREE
Case History No. 2
Again we find ourselves involved in the investigation of a rape committed by members of a motorcycle gang, this one falling into the "Thrill Rape" category. Several members of the gang were involved in the crime, and crime it was, without justification and with the added ingredient of pure sadism. The fact that a murder was committed by the rapists during the course of their outrage made the crime double reprehensible.
"Our summer vacation at the lake had been fun, but, to be completely honest, I was glad that we were finally on our way back home. We left the cabin well before dawn hoping that we would beat the worst of the weekend traffic coming back into the city. When Jack, my husband, had gotten sleepy right after we stopped for lunch I took over the driving chores. He curled up in the back seat for a little nap.
"The cabin was - well - off the beaten track. The two-lane highway that leads up through the mountains to it doesn't carry much traffic. I guess that's why I was so startled when suddenly, roaring by on both sides of the car, were a big bunch of very loud motorcycles. Those evil-looking, low-slung kind of motorcycles that are in all those bike-gang pictures that play as second features. They were ridden by dirty, mean-looking men, who looked like they had all just escaped from a prison or mental institution somewhere. They were riding like they had every policeman in three states chasing them.
"It took only seconds for the last of them to get past the car, leaving behind only a ringing in my ears and a haze of blue smoke from their engines. Jack grunted and shifted position on the back seat, but even all that noise didn't wake him up. When Jack goes to sleep it's almost like he dies. He doesn't hear anything.
"My nerves slowly settled down to normal again. I noticed that I had allowed the car's speed to drop clear down to thirty-five when the bikes went by. I guess they had really shaken me.
"I stepped down on the gas and eased the car back up to sixty-five. I leaned forward on the seat to switch on the radio, searching around the dial for a music station. Jack and I had a thing about never listening to the radio while we're away on vacation. Reception was lousy up there in the mountains, though, and after a few minutes of searching I gave up and turned the radio back to OFF.
"Almost imperceptively at first, and then with more and more force, the steering wheel pulled to the right. When the car seemed to skate sideways as I rounded a corner I realized that a tire was slowly going flat.
"The road straightened out for a little ways, and soon I saw a flat turn-out area up ahead, big enough to get the car completely off the road and well shaded by big oak trees. I eased on the brakes, not sure how far down the tire was or how the car would react to braking, then I pulled off the road onto the flat area.
"I slid the shift lever into PARK, set the handbrake, and shut the engine off. Then I climbed out of the car, stopping for a long minute to stretch some of the cramps out of my muscles before walking around the car to find out just which tire was causing the trouble.
"It turned out to be the right-rear. When I started to walk around the car again to wake up Jack to fix it, I was suddenly frozen in my tracks by the sound of a low laugh behind me. Filled with fear, I whirled around. There, in the shaded dimness at the base of one of the trees, I made out the shape of several parked motorcycles. As my eyes slowly adapted to the shade and shadows under the trees, I could see the forms of five or six men, sitting on the ground, staring at me. Two of them were talking as they watched me, but speaking so softly that I couldn't understand what they were saying. Then the larger of the two laughed. He got to his feet, and started towards me. Two others got up and followed him. I was frozen to the spot with fear.
" 'Got a problem, lady?' he laughed. He was built like a bear, and towered over me. Black shoulder-length hair framed his face, and it looked like it hadn't been washed in months. A matted black beard seemed to blend right in with the thick, curly black hair on his chest. His ragged Levi's were matted and shiny with years-old grease, and were held up by a heavy chain around his waist. As he came closer to me I could smell a terrible odor that could only have been made by a long-unwashed mixture of rank male-sweat, old grease, and urine. It was a smell so terrible that it almost made me gag.
" 'It seems that I have a tire going flat,' I answered, unable to hide the shaking fear in my voice. 'My husband can change it without any trouble, though."
" 'Hell, it's only flat on one side,' he said with a smile. Then, without any warning, he reached forward and grabbed my arm. 'Lots of time to fix the tire later, lady. Why don't ya come on over and be sociable for a while first?' he asked with a laugh. 'We won't bite ya. Not very hard, anyway.' He laughed again, and began to pull me towards his smelly body. I tried to pull away, but his hand only gripped me tighter, wrapping painfully around my wrist. I screamed from pure panic. I heard the car door open, and in seconds Jack was standing next to me.
" 'Hey! What the holy hell do you think you're doing with my wife? Get your rotten hands off her!' He was angry, and I prayed that he wouldn't try anything violent with the beasts.
"The animal that had grabbed my arm suddenly released me. But he turned towards Jack, a big smile on his face, a smile that made my blood run cold. I tried to cry out a warning, but I was frozen, unable to move or make a sound. I watched as one of the other bikers circled around behind Jack, moving with the silence of a wild animal stalking its prey. When he was behind Jack he quietly released a heavy chain from around his thick waist With the full power of his heavily muscled arm he swung the chain in an arc, and the links and heavy lock on the end hit with a meaty thud against the flesh of Jack's back.
"Jack's eyes glazed over with pain. A gasp of pure agony came from his throat as he fell to his knees in the dirt. Then the man who had been holding me stepped forward, and swung his heavy, black boot up into Jack's unprotected face, crushing his nose and splitting his lips. Jack fell on the ground and bright red blood sprayed across the black leather of the boot and splashed on the front of his white sport-shirt As he flipped over on his back the men circled him and kicked him, again and again. Their boots landed with soggy, wet crunching thuds that could only mean broken ribs, torn muscles and crushed cartilage.
"Jack screamed like a wounded animal, trying to roll away from those crushing boots, but they followed him. They kicked and stomped like madmen until his shirt was soaked with blood, both arms broken and lying at twisted angles. His face became a mask of raw, bleeding flesh, and was no longer recognizable as the man I loved. Finally, mercifully, he lost consciousness, but even that didn't stop the beating.
"The grip of terror that held me finally broke. I tried to run to him, but once again the leader grabbed me. He pulled me back and forced me to my knees. The small rocks and dirt cut into my flesh. As he looked down at me, I saw the light of animal passion in his eyes. I screamed . . . again and again. I tried to pull away from his grasp. He only laughed at my screams. Each explosion of sound seemed to excite him even more.
"He swung his big greasy hand at me, and the back of it slammed against my mouth. I fell backwards, and I could taste the hot blood in my mouth . . . feel the small chunks of broken teeth. In a daze I felt his hands tearing at my shorts and panties . . . tearing my flesh as he ripped them from my body. Then he pinned me to the ground beneath his massive body. His rank beard rubbed against my face. His sour breath was in my nostrils . . . his legs pressed between mine, spreading them open. Then, with a pain that seemed to tear me in half, he shoved his rock-hard penis into me. When he entered me, little clumps of my crotch hair were torn out by the roots. I could feel the hot stickiness of blood running down my legs. He slammed his body up and down, grunting and growling like an animal . . . crushing me with his weight. It seemed like forever before I felt the hot, horrible flood of his climax pouring into me. Then, thank God, he lay still on top of me, every muscle in his body tensed as his penis jerked deep inside my body . . . emptying his flood of inhuman semen into my womb.
"He got to his feet, and wiped off the end of his tool with a bit of nylon torn from my panties. A big smile of satisfaction was on his face. I lay there, crying silently, too dazed and hurt to move. I just thanked God that it was finally over.
"I had given thanks too soon, though. Another of the bearded, filthy hoodlums dropped down over me. His pants were down and his hard tool was exposed. I couldn't even cry out as he forced that filthy thing into my battered body. I could hardly feel it when it went in, there was so much pain. I couldn't help but feel him grinding away at me, though, sliding ... in and out . . . through the slush that the first man had shot into me. He, too, eventually finished his act, and released his passion into my body. Then there was another, and another, a seemingly unending stream of men. They all forced their manhood into my abused body, and took everything they wanted from me.
"I don't really remember everything that happened. A red haze seemed to drop over my mind, and for this I will be forever thankful. I do remember coming back to a clear understanding of what was happening when one of them shoved his massive, slimy penis into my mouth. It was wet with the semen of his own ejaculation and the many other men who had pumped their slime into my body. The haze dropped over my mind again when he began pounding at my face with his fists after I bit him. I bit him in pure reflex as that big piece of hot flesh slammed all the way back into my throat, choking me. More teeth broke as he pounded at me. Then he slid his penis into my bleeding mouth again. I felt the hot flood of his cum gushing down my throat. I choked and gagged, and vomit poured up around his throbbing penis.
"I was bleeding from a dozen places, and the area between my legs was a mass of burning pain. Then someone rolled me over, and pressed my face into the dirt. A stiffened penis slammed down and forced entrance through my anus . . . jamming deep into me . . . pouring still another load of hot wetness into my body. A tremendous flash of pain exploded across my mind.
"After that everything went black for a while. The next sound I" heard was the roaring of motorcycle engines. I struggled back to consciousness, only to find that the animal leader of the madmen was leaning over me, grinning.
" 'You were pretty good, lady. So good, in fact, that I think I'll take along a little souvenir to remember you by.' I saw the flash of a knife in his hand, but before I could even begin to react he bent over me. The knife came slashing down, and my body convulsed with a ripping, searing pain ... a pain that was greater than all the combined pains they had already inflicted. He cut off my right breast and stuffed the bleeding lump of flesh into his pocket. Through a haze of pain, I saw him grin down at me once more. Then he turned and walked away, and, at last, darkness closed over my mind.
"I woke up once, in the ambulance, on the way to the hospital. I was screaming with pain, then I blanked out again, into a merciful darkness where I felt nothing. Now I feel no more pain, only a numbness inside. A deadness as final as the horrible death that took Jack away from me. What is there for me in this life now that Jack is gone? What reason is there for me to go on? All I want now is the peacefulness of death, but I can't have it. The doctors did their work too well. All I have left to me is the small death of sleep. Please, please go away. Stop asking all your questions. Let me die!"
Most rape cases leave only emotional damage within the victim. Here, unfortunately, we have a case where both mental and physical damage was inflicted, as well as the murder of the husband of the victim. It is doubtful that this woman will ever fully recover, emotionally, from the vicious attack. For the rest of her life she will bear horrible scars upon her body from the events of that late-summer afternoon. Those scars will never let her forget. With such remembrances in her mind, how will this poor woman ever again be able to lead a normal life?
Unhappily, we must report that the hoodlums who so savagely attacked this young woman have not been apprehended, despite a state-wide search for them. We can only hope that someday they will be brought before the bar of justice to answer for their horrendous crimes, and that society will take the full revenge allowed by the law.
CHAPTER FOUR
Case History No. 3
Many rapes of the pathological type are committed by older men, often against juvenile females. It seems as though, once a man gets well into his middle-age, he begins to develop doubts concerning his continued virility and stamina. An emotionally balanced person would accept that he is simply getting old, and cannot perform as he did when he was younger. If he has to prove otherwise to himself, will seek out a girl friend, however temporary, or a prostitute.
Some less well-balanced personalities, however, can be driven to rape by this fear of the loss of their manhood.
They will try to prove that they aren't really getting old and losing their powers, and they will attempt to find, as a victim, the youngest possible girl. Such was the case of John F.
"I've seen a lot of these kids lately, standing there on the freeway on-ramps, hitching rides all over the country, but I'd never before taken a chance on picking any of them up until I saw this sharp-looking young girl.
"When I turned my car onto the ramp I saw this pretty, well-built young girl standing there with her thumb sticking out. For some reason that I still don't understand I decided to pick her up. I eased the brakes on, and pulled off to the right. I almost had the car stopped when I saw that she had a long-haired guy with her, half-hidden behind the bushes lining the ramp. A motorist wouldn't be able to see him until he had already stopped.
"I stepped down hard on the gas, and changed my mind about picking her up. A bit further up the ramp I spotted another girl with her thumb out. She was alone and there was no concealment for a hidden boy friend. I pulled the car to a stop. I don't think that I was actually, consciously, looking for a young girl by herself, at least not right at that time. I hadn't really thought out what I was doing. It was just that I felt the need for company. I didn't want to take any chances on having a strange, muscular young man in the car with me. I always carry pretty large amounts of cash with me, since I hate credit cards, and I wanted to make sure I kept it.
"The girl came running up to the car, looked in through the window, and then opened the door and slid onto the seat. I guess that fast look through the window was to see if I looked trustworthy or something.
"She seemed to be very young. Later I found out that she was only sixteen. She was extremely pretty, and was skimpily dressed in a pair of skin-tight jeans and one of those short, bare-midriff blouses. The nylon or whatever it was made out of was awfully thin, and the way it clung to her made it obvious that she wasn't wearing a bra.
"'Thanks for stopping for me, Mister. Are you going very far?'
"'That all depends on what you mean by very far. How far do you want to go?'
"'San Francisco.' She gave me a sharp look to make sure there wasn't a double meaning in my question.
"'Whew! That is a bit of a distance, especially for a girl hitchhiking. Almost four-hundred miles. Actually, I'm afraid it's a little too far. I'm only planning on driving as far as San Luis Obispo today.'
"'Well, hey, that's a pretty good ride. If I can find one more person like you I should be able to make it all the way into Frisco by tomorrow morning.' She settled back in the seat with a relaxed sigh.
"'Is that your home? San Francisco?' I was curious about what a girl her age would be doing hitchhiking across that kind of distance all by herself.
"'Oh, no. Actually, I'm from back east, Philadelphia, originally. Some friends of mine moved up to San Francisco a little while back, though. I was sitting in LA with nothing to do, and I've never been to Frisco, so I decided to go up and visit with them for a little while, just as a break.'
"'I hope you won't mind me speaking frankly, Miss, but you certainly don't look like you're old enough to be out on your own, and wandering all around the country. Hitchhiking, at that.'
"'Well, my identification says that I'm twenty-one." She smiled when she told me that. 'It's pretty good ID, too. Legitimate.'
" 'If you say so. Please excuse me, though, if I don't believe you.' "
"She smiled over at me again, then I had to give my entire attention to the freeway. I don't know if you've driven much on the southern California freeways, but they've been described as an eighty-mile-an-hour traffic jam. In California the speed limit is seventy, but I was doing seventy-five and the other cars were still shooting past me. It made for some pretty nervous driving, especially since I don't like driving in even slow-moving heavy traffic. I prefer an open road. It's a lot more relaxing.
"It took a long twenty minutes for us to get out of the most heavily built-up part of the city, and out of that heavy traffic. Once the cars had thinned out somewhat, though, I was able to relax a little. We started to talk again, with her doing most of the talking.
"She started off by telling me all about all of her friends scattered around the country, mostly people that she had met while hitchhiking. Then she got to talking her own personal philosophy. It seemed to be based entirely upon a belief that she should be allowed to do anything she wanted, as long as she didn't hurt or interfere with anyone else, and that other people should be granted the same right and freedoms. There's no way such a life-style can work, but I have to admit that it sure did sound good.
"By the time we got into Santa Barbara it was getting pretty late in the afternoon. I was getting hungry, so I stopped and bought both of us dinner. She had been quite reticent about what she had been doing during her stay in Los Angeles. Just that she had been staying there for a while with some friends. It quickly became apparent, though, that the one thing she hadn't been doing, at least not very regularly, was eating. I urged her to order anything she wanted, and she took me at my word. She put away a big steak, French fried potatoes, a chocolate milkshake, and then followed the meal with a big slice of pie and a scoop of ice cream. She didn't waste a thing, either. Not even the broccoli.
"When we had finished eating and I had stopped to fill the gas tank we got the car out on the road again. She gave me a quick kiss of thanks, on the cheek for the meal. That kiss, I'll have to admit, excited me strangely, and worried me as well. What on earth was a man my age, and in my position, doing becoming sexually excited by a girl young enough to be my daughter? I told myself to start acting my age, but a strong stirring in my loins and a strange bunch of intrusive thoughts which I couldn't control ignored my advice.
"The sun was below the horizon before we got into San Luis Obispo. The girl was beginning to yawn and doze. I briefly considered asking her if she wanted to stop at a motel for the night, and then continue along with me in the morning. I rejected the idea, realizing that I didn't really mean for her to sleep alone if she did spend the night here.
" 'Are you going to stop here for the night, Mister?'
" 'Yes, I am. I'll go on in the morning, but tonight I'm too tired to drive any farther.' " 'Oh. " 'Look. If you want, you can spend the night here, and then I'll take you on in the morning. I mean . . . ah, you can stay with me ... no strings attached. Just so you won't have to take a chance on hitching a ride at night' I don't know what made me say it, since I had already decided not to, but the words just seemed to come out.
"She gave me a long, searching look, as if she was trying to make up her mind whether I was on the level. The funny thing was, I didn't know myself.
" 'Okay. Thanks. I'd like that.'
"I couldn't say anything, so I just nodded my head. My mouth and throat were suddenly very dry. I couldn't control the sudden flush of excitement "I picked a small motel on the outskirts of town where I had never stayed before. I parked the car, and went in to register for the two of us. I signed us in as man and wife. It was dark enough that I was sure the desk clerk couldn't see how young she was.
"I got my suitcase and her small bag from the car. As an afterthought, but really quite without thinking, I took my pistol from the glove compartment. I carry the gun because of the large amounts of cash I sometimes have with me. I opened the door to the room, then followed her inside, and set the bags down by the door.
"I watched her swaying little ass as she walked across the room. She fell onto the bed, bouncing. She had a big smile on her face as she got up and turned around towards me. That smile slowly faded as she saw the small gun in my hand.
" 'What's the gun for, Mister?'
" 'Can't you guess? You and I are going to have a little fun.'
My mouth was saying those words, but my mind was twisting in revolt against them. It was as if some hidden animal inside me had taken over, and was directing my every action and word. If you don't give me any trouble, everything will be okay. If you do, you're liable to get hurt, bad. Understand?'
"She nodded that she understood. I could see the fright in her eyes.
" 'You just do what I tell you. I know damn well you aren't a virgin, especially after hitchhiking all over the country by yourself. This won't be anything new to you. Just remember, do a good job, and do it right, or I might get really mad. And you wouldn't want that, would you?'
"She shook her head, still not saying anything.
" 'I'm glad we understand each other. Now, take those clothes off My voice got harsh and demanding, that wild animal inside of me now completely in charge of my actions.
"She began to remove her clothes, and my body began to respond. My eyes feasted on her firm, pointed young breasts. I moved towards the bed, pulling my clothes off. I watched her pull her jeans and panties down over her slim hips, bringing into view a curly patch of fine, blonde hair, then two beautifully-formed slender legs.
" 'That's right, baby. Cooperation won't cost you a thing. Just remember, if you want to keep me happy, and yourself healthy, you'd better make it good.'
"I reached out and took her in my arms. I was careful to keep a firm grip on the gun. I pressed my lips to hers. She pulled her head back, turning her face up to look at me.
" 'You'd better know, Mister, that I'm on my period. That might change a few of your plans.'
I didn't say a word. I was past the point where I could even think of words. I just pulled her close again, bringing our lips back together. I pressed the muzzle of the gun against the side of her neck. Her tongue probed into my mouth as she fitted her body tight against mine. My throbbing prick pressed against her wonderfully rounded little belly. We held the kiss for several minutes, then she broke away, and we moved back towards the bed. I sat down on the edge of it and pulled her down until she was kneeling on the floor in front of me. Then I pushed her head downward.
She got the idea. She dropped her head, and began nibbling the inside of my thigh. Her tongue left little spots of wetness on my skin as she moved her lips upwards on my leg. She pushed out her tongue, and licked the skin around my balls. I spread my legs apart, then she sucked my nuts into her mouth, squeezing them with her tongue and biting at them with her small, white teeth. She started to bite down, but I pressed the gun harder against her neck, and the bite never became anything more than a nibble.
She stayed there for a few minutes, then she started moving her mouth again, her lips brushing up and down the length of my prick. I trembled with shivers of sexual excitement, shivers I hadn't felt in years.
"Her lips came up to the head of my prick, and then she took it in her mouth, her tongue licking at it. She moved her head down slowly, taking all of my prick into her mouth and into her throat. She began sucking and sucking . . . long hard draws. At the same time she was stroking and tickling my balls with her finger. Before I knew it, I felt my balls tighten up. And suddenly I was jerking forward, pumping a load of cum into her hungry mouth.
"She kept sucking and drawing every drop of cum out of me. I groaned with pure pleasure and then fell back on the bed, exhausted.
She was lapping, tonguing, cleaning my prick. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was getting hard again! It had been years since I had been able to get more than one erection in a night.
"I pulled her onto the bed, and pressed the gun against her ribs. Then I rolled her over on her stomach. She raised up to let me slide a pillow under her, and then she spread her legs.
My cock was still wet from her saliva and my cum. I climbed up on top of her backside. As gentle as I could, I began to press and push my prick against her anus. She must have wanted me to get it over with, though, because she suddenly lifted up off the pillow, and pushed her ass back against my prick. Suddenly it slid through the tightness of her constricting anus and on into her asshole.
"She wriggled and squirmed around under me, moaning softly and thrashing her body. I began to pump hard and fast. I lasted long enough for her to come, despite the fact that I guess, technically, she was being raped. Her whole body shook and shuddered as she came. I pumped another hot load into her, then drew back, and rolled off her. I lay back, let the blackness of sleep close over my mind. I was so exhausted that I didn't even notice the gun drop from my relaxing fingers.
"The next thing I knew someone was shaking me. I opened my eyes to see a man standing over me, a gun in his hand and a badge pinned to his uniform shirt. I guess that's the kind of thanks you get for giving someone a ride. Just goes to prove that you just can't trust kids these days."
CHAPTER FIVE
Case History No. 4
Our fourth case history is one of the few we found in our investigations that ended happily. While this may sound strange, it is a recorded feet The rape was of the "Passion" type. The rapist was driven to his attack by an overpowering sexual desire for a very close acquaintance. Despite the rape, the protagonists are now quite close friends, seeing each other at irregular intervals. While neither person specifically mentioned it during the interview, we are of the opinion that they are enjoying an intermittent sexual relationship at the current time.
"Janey did two nice things for me, although one of them was intended.
"The first was right after I met her, when I was still trying to get something going. I was trying my damndest to get her into bed, but with absolutely no luck. She had made up her mind that she wanted us to be friends, and that was all.
"I've met a lot of girls before Janey that just wanted to be friends not lovers. After a week or so of trying to put the make on them, I'd simply give up. I'd look for someone who was a little more cooperative.
"I tried the same thing with Janey, but it just didn't work with her. I wouldn't see her for a couple of days, and find myself a new chick. A gal that would be a little more willing to take part in bedroom sports. But I always thought about Janey. Finally I'd call her and ask for another date. Don't ask me why, because I don't know. I just couldn't get her out of my system.
"Anyway, that first nice thing she did for me was to introduce me to her favorite hobby, scuba diving. Swimming around under water in the ocean, with a tank of compressed air on my back.
"I didn't have a great passion for swimming. The whole idea did absolutely nothing for me.
Because she wanted me to, I took lessons from a licensed instructor. The first time she took me down in the ocean it was off Catalina Island. We went down to the beautiful coral and jungle like waving fronds of seaweed, and down among all those darting multicolored fish. I fell in love with scuba diving. I wished that there was some way for us to carry even more air with us, so that we could stay down for hours at a time in that peaceful beauty.
"Of course, just because I had suddenly found enchantment under the waves didn't mean that I forgot about wanting to get Janey into bed. As a matter of feet, I spent even more time and effort trying to score with her. But I had no more luck than I had experienced before. It got to where the sight of her long-limbed-lush-body, slightly covered by the smallest of bikinis, drove me right out of my mind. I often had to turn away in embarrassment as a hard bulge grew in the front of my trunks. It was really getting bad.
"Thinking back on it, I'm surprised that I didn't just grab her right there on the beach, or in the boat, and take her. Then again, I'm not sure I could have done it, right out in the open. Not that I wouldn't have, but Janey's a big girl, and very strong. There's a good chance that if I'd have tried to touch her when she didn't want to be touched, I'd have drawn back a bloody stump instead of a hand. Janey isn't one of those sugar-and-spice little girls. She can take care of herself.
"As the days went by, I grew more and more proficient with my scuba gear. We spent more and more time together under water. All day Saturday and Sunday, every holiday, and whenever I could get an afternoon off we were out exploring. We would dart through the deep green water, playing like a couple of dolphins, and occasionally shooting fish with our spear guns to cook for supper. It was like being in paradise. The only thing that was missing was a willing Eve, a lack that I continued to work on.
"Janey was smart, too. She never said no to any of my advances. She never let me get that far, so she never had to put me down. I guess she realized that a man who has tried and been told no would leave and seek his pleasure elsewhere, if only to protect his ego and his pride.
"Finally vacation time came along, two whole weeks free. We headed out for new territory, down along the wild coastline of Baja in the Mexican waters. There were white sandy beaches that weren't visited by human beings more than once or twice a year, if that often. We dove in sheltered coves where the water was a deep emerald green and in wide bays where we watched whales playing and making love.
"We slept in the same cabin on the boat (it only had one cabin, and I wasn't about to sleep on deck), but in separate bunks. That was her idea, of course, and as each night passed I grew more and more frustrated. My mind was so filled with thoughts of Janets beautiful body that I could think of nothing else.
"Those constant thoughts about her almost killed me. One day I neglected to check my scuba tank regulator, and it jammed on me under water, cutting off my air supply fifty feet down. I just barely got back to the surface, and my lungs felt like they would burst any minute. My vision filled with exploding red and white stars. That close call taught me a valuable lesson. I paid more attention to what I was doing, and deliberately forced my thoughts away from Janey's body when I was getting ready to dive. The rest of the time she was constantly in my thoughts, though. There was no way that I could muster enough will power to get Janey and sex out of my mind for more than just a couple of minutes.
"Then, one beautifully sunny day, we dove down to a reef. The living coral flashed with multicolored sparkles of reflected light, rising like fairy tale towers in some miniature wonderland, and black holes of caves dotted the side of the reef. We explored several of them as we worked our way along the reef face, and followed the curve that eventually led to a merger with the shore.
"We were only about a hundred feet from the breaking surf, at a point where the water was barely twenty feet deep, when Janey swam into a small cave. She disappeared for a moment, and then swam out of it again, waving to catch my attention. I broke off the game I was playing with an ugly, curious grouper, and swam over to her. She headed into the cave again, and I followed wondering what she had found. The passage was barely big enough for my body to fit through. It was a couple of feet long, and opened up into a large chamber that seemed to have a mirror for a ceiling. It wasn't until Janey broke through that mirror that I realized that, by some miracle, the cave held a pocket of air and was only half-full of water.
"I angled upwards, my head breaking through the surface. I was just in time to see the shadowy form of Janey climbing out onto a little stretch of white sand next to the pool of water. Enough of the bright sunlight outside reflected through the entrance to illuminate the cave dimly. I saw that the arc of white sand lay almost halfway around the water. Cautiously I removed my mouthpiece and took a breath of air. It was fresh, sweet and cool. Somehow, there must have been a connection between the cave and the surface, perhaps a small tunnel leading through the reef to the shore.
"Whatever the explanation, the fresh air tasted good. I climbed out onto the beach, took off my tanks, and shut off my regulator valve. Janey already had her tanks off and was stretched out on the cool sand. I walked over and sat down next to her. When our wet thighs brushed against each other I bent over, completely on impulse, and kissed her.
"She immediately began to fight against me, but I pinned her to the sand. I didn't give her time or room to find the leverage she needed to throw me off. Her lips felt like they were on fire. I pulled her tight against me and I could feel her body responding, despite the feet that she was still struggling and fighting me. I forced her lips open with my tongue, darting mine in and out of her mouth. With one hand I released the tie on her brief bikini-top, and her magnificent breasts were free. They were beautiful.
"I was careful to keep her pinned on the sand and I let one hand slide down over her stomach. I stopped to untie one side of her bikini bottom. My fingers then traced lightly through the hair between her legs, brushing at the quivering wet lips of her pussy.
"She wasn't fighting nearly as hard now. Her breath was coming in short gasps. She gave a little moan of pleasure as my fingers brushed lightly over her clitoris. Then she gasped as I slid a searching finger deep inside of her pussy. I stroked back and forth gently against the heated walls of her cove.
"I thought that she was really getting with it, so I relaxed my pressure against her a little. In a flash she was halfway out from under me, and pushing me away with all her strength. I managed to hold onto her slippery body, though. In seconds I had her pinned again on the sand. My hands were tightly locked around her wrists, holding her arms immobilized.
"I dropped one hand to one of her breasts, then followed with my head. I began running the tip of my tongue over her nipple, and I could feel it harden. Kissing and sucking at it lightly, I rose up slightly, and pulled my trunks off.
"I settled down between her spread legs. She really began to fight me, twisting back and forth. It was only luck that caused her to twist just the right way, bringing the head of my cock right between the lips of her pussy. My lips clamped down on hers again, and when I slowly slid my rod into her she moaned softly and her teeth bit down on my lower lip, but not very hard.
"We lay there like that, with my body holding hers flat against the sand, locked together. I began to move up and down, my rod sliding in and out of her, for several wonderful minutes. Then, when I felt my climax coming close, I began to pump faster and faster, and soon her hips were jerking and thrusting under mine in perfect rhythm. With a crashing like the wild surf pounding against the shore I came. Her body was shaking in the spasm of her own climax as her legs went up to lock around my waist and hold me deep inside of her. My rod jerked and pumped with a life of its own. I emptied everything I had been storing up for months into her steaming pussy. Her heel beat against my butt, as she took it all.
"When it was all over I was exhausted, and I just lay there, my rod still deep inside of her, trying to catch my breath. Then, with a sudden shock of electric terror I realized that something was holding onto my foot. Something cold and wet and clammy.
"I pushed away from her, and twisted around on the sand. There, holding tightly onto my foot with six tentacles, was a baby squid. Janey started to laugh. Sheepishly I joined her, and the cave echoed with our hilarity. I peeled the baby squid off my foot, and then stood up. Janey was still laughing. She was still laughing, too, as she stood up. Then, with a full swing of her fist, she broke my jaw."
Is rape actually rape if it is not reported to the authorities? Is rape a legal as well as a moral matter, or is it strictly a legal question? If the latter is the case, then the foregoing case history is not rape, since the parties involved managed to resolve it between themselves.
We are pleased to report that the event did have a happy ending, in that a more natural relationship was eventually established between the parties concerned.
CHAPTER SIX
Case History No. 5
As far as we can judge from the many reports we received, Betty Lou had just two major problems, both of which contributed to what was to happen to her.
She was young and innocent, and she was a black girl from relatively-integrated California going to a college in a border-southern state where segregation existed in everything except name. Her acceptance at the college was simply a matter of the college having to accept some blacks, so they accepted only those they thought would cause no trouble. In other words, no militants, which Betty Lou certainly wasn't.
Being young and innocent, in the classical sense of the words, she didn't get into too much trouble, segregation-wise, for the simple reason that she was too shy to push herself into groups unless she was invited, and she didn't spend a whole lot of time off-campus. But, being young and innocent, she also made a mistake. The tragic mistake of falling into what she thought was love with the wrong man, George Brentwood, star halfback of the college football team.
The great majority of the students at the college were "progressive," meaning that they went out of their way to show Betty Lou that they weren't prejudiced, and, being completely unsophisticated in the ways of southern style segregation, she accepted their friendliness without question. Her parents had been relatively well-to-do, so she had never experienced even the problems of being raised in a black ghetto. The many stories she had read in newspapers and magazines about racial prejudice merely puzzled her, since she had no referents in her past sheltered life to relate them to.
One weekend, along with the other girls she had become friends with, she received a surprise invitation to a dance and party at one of the fraternity houses. The fraternity that George Brentwood belonged to. All day Saturday she rushed around in an agony of impatience, waiting for the evening and planning how she would manage to get George to notice her, among all the other beautiful girls who would be there. It never even occurred to her that he couldn't help but notice her, since she would be the only black girl at the dance.
Betty Lou was a beautiful young woman, with none of the "negroid" features and a light, coffee-colored complexion. If it had not been for her black, kinky hair, done in the latest Afro-style, she could easily have passed for a Cuban or Puerto Rican, but, of course, the thought had never even entered her mind that she might want to have her hair style changed so that she might "pass."
That evening she took special care with her appearance, getting her hair just right, wearing just a touch of pale-purple eye make-up, and wrapping her body in a very expensive white cocktail dress, cut low in front and lower in back, skin-tight from her full breasts to her flaring hips, the curve of fabric perfectly following the lines of her slim waist, then flaring out into a skirt that ended a discrete two inches above her knees. The dress had been a present from her parents, and this was only the second time she had worn it, the first time being to her going-away party before leaving for college.
As expected, she had no trouble attracting George's attention at the party. When she walked in the door every eye in the room locked on her, male eyes looking with appreciation, female eyes with scarcely disguised jealousy. The president of the fraternity, who knew her slightly from one of the classes they shared, headed straight for her, but George got there first, holding out his well-muscled arm and asking Betty Lou if she would honor him with a dance.
Betty Lou felt like she was in the best of all possible heavens as she snuggled into George's arms, gliding smoothly across the dance floor. When she looked up into his face at his smiling lips, sparkling blue eyes and wavy blond hair she knew, without question or reservations, that she was hopelessly in love with him.
They finished that dance, a slow one, and then a fast set. Then George adroitly headed off his fraternity brothers, who he knew would be trying to cut in at the end of the dance, by leading Betty Lou over to the punch bowl at the side of the room. He poured her a glass, poured another for himself, then silently raised his glass in a toast to her. He drank half his drink, then put it down on the table with a slight grimace of distaste.
"Tastes terrible that way, doesn't it? It's supposed to have some rum in it, but the rules say no alcohol allowed in the frat house, so no rum in the rum-punch. Of course, rules like that are just made to be broken. I've got some rum in my room, and I'm going to get a shot. Want some?" He looked at Betty Lou with raised eyebrows, and when she nodded in reply he took her by the arm, led her out of the crowded room, and up the stairs.
When they got to the room that George shared with a fraternity brother, who happened to be out-of-town that weekend, he held the door open for Betty Lou, then followed her in, locking the door behind him and pocketing the key.
"Can't have the house-master breaking in on us while we're having our drink, can we?" George stood there, leaning back against the door, looking at Betty Loud. His eyes stared at her ankles, then slowly moved up her body. It was a gaze so frankly sexual that Betty Lou began to blush.
"Baby, you've just gotta be the finest piece of black pussy I've ever seen, and believe me, I've seen some. I'll bet you fuck like a wild mink, don't you? All you black chicks do. I guess it's 'cause you start so young, screwin' your brothers and fathers. Guess there's just no substitute for experience, is there, baby?"
Betty Lou couldn't believe what she was hearing. Couldn't believe that George, the man she loved, could be talking that way to her. It couldn't be real, she reasoned to herself. Then, becoming afraid, she began to back away into the room as George, still grinning, stripped off his jacket and shirt.
"No, no. Please, take me back downstairs."
'You've got to be kidding, baby. We ain't going back downstairs until we've had ourselves a little ball up here. Until we've done what we came up here to do. You know you want it. I've seen you watching me all the time, dreaming about my white cock inside that little black cunt of yours. Come on, baby. Get that dress off. We don't have all that much time before they begin to miss us downstairs."
Betty Lou darted around him, trying to get to the door, only to hear his laugh as she pulled on the knob without results. She turned to face him again, only to see him drop his pants, his hard-on pushing out at the fabric of his shorts. He started towards her, but she managed to evade his advance, by running to the other side of the room. George followed her closely, a big grin on his face.
"That's what I like, baby. I dig a little fight in a chick."
Again Betty Lou managed to get around him, but this time her escape was stopped by the bed. Before she could get around its bulk, George was at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her around to face him, his hands locked tightly into her flesh.
His face came down to hers, and their lips pressed together. When he forced her lips apart with his tongue she bit him. At the same time she hit him as hard in the ribs as she could.
George staggered back a couple of steps, mingled pain and anger flashing across his face. Then his arm came up, and with his tightly closed fist he swung and hit her on the side of the head, almost knocking her out. Betty Lou fell back onto the bed, stunned from the blow. Through a red haze of pain she saw and felt George pulling at her clothes. At the same time he was pulling his shorts down, exposing his organ, that was standing out in front of him like some obscene torpedo ready for firing.
Betty Lou tried to roll off the bed and get away from him, but she was still too groggy from the blow. Then George was on top of her, and his strongly muscled forearm slammed across her throat, pinning her to the bed and cutting off her scream before it had a chance to get started. With his other hand he yanked at the top of her dress. Ripping the thin fabric away, he frantically pulled it down and exposed her firmly pointed breasts.
The light of unreasoning, logic-blotting passion began to burn redly in his eyes as he bent to kiss her swelling breasts. As he did so he slightly eased the pressure on Betty Lou's throat. Again she tried to get away from him. One clawed hand came up to rake her sharp nails across George's face, and tear bloody grooves in his white skin.
With a grunt of pain George again brought his clenched fist smashing against the side of her head, still enough in control to avoid marking her face. Again she collapsed under him, lying fiat on the bed, almost unconscious.
Through a haze of pain she felt his hand back at her dress, pulling at the cloth, bunching it up around her hips, and she squeezed her legs together as tightly as she could. But despite using every bit of strength in her fit, young body she was unable to resist the superior muscles that George applied. He grabbed the elastic band of her panties, white lace against the light brown of her skin, and ripped them completely off of her.
Betty Lou tried to fight him off, but his hands now had her arms pinned over her head. Using all his weight George forced one of his knees between her legs, spreading them slightly, breaking the muscle-lock she had been using to keep them together. His other knee followed into the opening, and then he spread her wide under him and brought his body down over hers.
His blood-stiff organ pressed against her, but it wasn't in quite the right spot. He eased the pressure, let his prod slide down a little, and pressed again. But still, he couldn't find the entrance to her pussy. Finally, almost in desperation, he grasped both her wrists in one hand and brought the other hand down, his finger searching for the way into her.
He found it, and his finger slid in. Betty Lou gasped with shock. He slid his finger slowly out as his organ followed it down, pressing against her virgin tightness. Betty Lou again tried to scream, but George clapped his free hand over her mouth, arid cut off the sound before it could escape. Without finesse George slammed his body down on hers, and Betty Lou almost passed out from the pain as flesh tore and her hymen broke. His big organ jammed all the way into her. She could feel the hot wetness of blood on her legs, but even that terrible sensation was soon blocked out by the mounting waves of tearing pain as George pumped ruthlessly up and down on her, grinding away at her body until, in only a few minutes, the harsh grunt of satisfaction escaped from his lips and his body-muscles spasmed tight as he shot his juices into her.
Finished, he pulled his organ out of her lacerated opening and collapsed on the bed next to her, not even noticing the blood that was staining the tan spread under them.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it, baby? I'm really pretty good, huh?"
Betty Lou didn't and couldn't answer. She staggered to her feet and stumbled across the room and into the small bathroom. In the medicine cabinet she found a razor blade. For long, long minutes she stood holding it in her shaking fingers, and looked at her wrists. Then, with a shake of her head, she turned and walked out of the bathroom.
George was still lying on the bed, exhausted from his climax. She walked up to him and put her hand on his organ that was now soft and shrunken. George looked up at her, smiling sleepily.
"You really dig that thing, don't you, baby?"
Betty Lou smiled back at him. Then, with one swift flash of the razor blade, she cut off his shriveled weapon.
The foregoing is a case of the pure pathological type of rape, and we were fortunate in being able to interview both the rapist and his victim. The girl required extensive psychological treatment after the incident, but, we are happy to report, she eventually recovered completely, and is currently leading a normal life with only bad memories as scars of her experience.
The rapist was not so fortunate. At the time of the rape there was nothing evident in his behavior to lead the girl to suspect his mental imbalance, nor did any of his many acquaintances suspect anything abnormal. After the incident he was found to be insane by the courts, and is now confined to a maximum-security mental institution.
In terms of Old Testament morality, the case of George Brentwood and Betty Lou ended perfectly. Unfortunately, under our currently more lenient laws, the ending was somewhat less than perfect On the legal technicality that Betty Lou's attack came after, rather than during, the rape, I she was charged with assault with a deadly weapon, a charge to which she pled guilty on the advice of her attorney. The judge, fully cognizant of the facts of the case, sentenced her to serve one year on probation. Later, after he I had received from his wound, George was sentenced, by the same judge, to prison for a term of from fifty years to life, the maximum sentence he could be given. His real sentence had been passed by Betty Lou, though, before the police were even aware that a crime had been committed.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Case History No. 6
The "Spur-of-the-Moment" type of rape is often very close to the "passion" category in that neither are premeditated. Both types are usually spurred through the introduction of uncontrollable passion on the part of the man, with non-acceptance or reciprocation of this passion by the woman.
Case history No. 6 is an excellent example of how the two forms of rape often overlap. We have a situation involving a woman who, for reasons of her own, does not wish to get involved in a sexual situation, but who allows a man to get so sexually excited that he is forced to rape her to find an outlet for that excitement. The only factor which places this in the "Spur-of-the-Moment" category rather than the "Passion" category is that of time. Desire is increased in the male during the course of an (veiling with the woman, and the rejection and subsequent rape comes that same evening. With the "Passion" type the rejection by the woman is repeated and spread over a period of time, and the sexual desire grows day by day in the man until rape is the only outlet left to him.
"Tom is one of the salesmen in the office where I work as a secretary. He seemed to be a real nice guy, and different from the others. One day, he stopped at my desk to talk for a few minutes. It seemed as though he actually wanted to talk to me, not just score points, hoping to get me into bed. I guess girls, most girls at least, like playing those little games with men. They're flattered when a man tries to get her into the sack, whether she's planning on cooperating or not, but I'm just not that way. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I was still a virgin at twenty-three. My plans were that when my husband took me to bed for the first time he was going to take a virgin. Like I said, maybe it was old-fashioned and square and out-of-step with the women's lib movement and all that, but it was something I had decided on a long time ago.
"Because of that decision I didn't have a whole lot of dates with men from the office. Oh, some of them had taken me out once, and maybe twice. One guy took me out seven times. When they found out that I meant it when I said no, they usually turned their attentions elsewhere.
"I've heard that salesmen, as a class, are notoriously anti-marriage. If the salesmen who worked in my office were any indication, what I'd heard was absolutely true and deserved. Say the word marriage, and most of them would turn positively white, ready to take off running right then.
"Tom seemed to be different, though. Sometimes we had lunch together, and when we talked, it was about serious things. Never the little jokes and insinuations that most boy-girl conversation seems to be made up of. And Tom never even made a hint of a pass at me. I guess I was really beginning to like him. I was so thrilled when he finally asked me to go out with him.
"We started off with delicious, rare steaks at a first-rate little restaurant that Tom knew about, along with three or four good drinks. We both just rambled on through dinner, talking mostly about the big news stories of the day, but really not saying much of anything. Just comfortable small talk.
"After dinner we went to a show. I can't really say that I care for it. It was one of those new-wave films, rated "X" - who was going to go to bed with whom, and what they were going to do when they got there - it was nothing. The dialogue, if you could call it that, contained more four-letter words than I had heard around the office in a year. It was really terrible. I was glad the darkness inside the theater hid my blushes from Tom.
"The drinks, the happiness I felt being out with Tom, and the gentle way he held my hand through the movie, relaxed me. I finally began to let my guard down, sure that I could trust Tom not to try to take advantage of me. He seemed like just too nice a guy to try anything. Besides, I was beginning to think of him in terms of a prospective husband. That's why, when we left the theater, I agreed when he suggested that we go up to his place to listen to some of his classical records. I really did want to hear them, and perhaps we could have another drink or two. It seemed safe at the time.
"Tom's apartment was really fabulous. It was furnished with quiet good taste, with a big plate-glass window looking out over the lake. It must have cost him a fortune.
"Tom mixed a couple of drinks. We drank them while looking through his collection of records; some of them were really valuable. After he put some discs on the stereo set that completely covered one wall of the apartment, he mixed us fresh drinks, and turned the lights down low with a rheostat control. We went over to sit on the big couch in front of the window.
"Tom relaxed with a soft sigh, his arm draped lightly around my shoulders. We sat quietly listening to the music, sipping our drinks, and watching the light from a full moon reflect off the waters of the lake.
"It was so peaceful that I almost fell asleep. I didn't even notice when the next record fell and the muted speakers that were scattered through the room began to throb with the insistent, climbing beat of Ravel's Bolero. I didn't notice when Tom's arm slowly began to tighten around me. Without thinking my body moved closer to his. His hand tenderly touched my cheek, turning my face towards his. My lips parted as his mouth met mine in a kiss as light as a feather's touch.
"My eyes were closed and my mind was drifting in a limbo of pleasure. His hand dropped to my breast, and caressed it through the thin fabric of my blouse. His lips pressed harder against mine. His tongue was seeking. My body turned to meet his, warm with the long-suppressed fires of desire.
"His fingers were busy at the buttons of my blouse. Soon, he pulled it away from the confines of my skirt. I turned my shoulders to help him as he released the snap on my bra. His hot, dry, smooth palm moved slowly across my belly, then upwards to cup one of my breasts. Thrills and ripples of excitement coursed through my body. I felt the nipple hardening under his touch. I pressed against his palm to tell him of the desire my body was feeling.
"Bending me backwards on the couch, his head dropped down to my neck and his lips caressed my neck. His tongue probed gently at the hollow of my throat. His hands gently supported my back as his head dipped lower still. His lips nibbled on my breast. The warm wetness of his tongue flicked against the sensitive tenderness of my nipple. His teeth sent small shocks like an electric current through my body as he sucked my nipple into his mouth. His hands dropped to my hips and lifted me up.
"Further and further downward his head moved. His tongue left little streaks of hot and cold across my ribs, and stabbed gently at my navel. His cheek rubbed the skin of my stomach, and stroked the fire that was building inside of me. His hands were working at the cloth of my skirt, bunching it up about my hips, and finally coming to rest between me and the couch. His palms cupped the heated backs of my thighs in their gentle grasp.
"With a sudden move his head was lower still, and then his hot breath brushed against my thighs. His lips gently caressed and nibbled the inside of my legs. As if from a great distance I could feel my body twisting and turning, and my legs spreading slightly, as if begging for the touch of his kiss. Then his fingers hooked in the elastic of my panties and pulled them slowly downwards. I felt his warm, moist tongue following the line of elastic as it dropped lower and lower . . . moving slowly along the tender skin . . . then into my pussy hair. My panties suddenly dropped down around my knees and were pulled completely off as he once again began kissing the inside of my legs. I spread them apart. They seemed to quiver with a life of their own that was growing, out of control, as he caressed my body.
"At that moment nothing seemed as important to me as the touch of his lips on my body. I arched back on the couch, and my eyes filled with the soft white glow of the moon. My hips moved in small jerks as the ball of passion that he was kindling built inside of me.
"Tenderly his hands spread my legs still further apart, and lifted them slightly. His breath seemed to be scalding hot as his face moved down between them. His lips kissed softly, and his tongue brushed back and forth at my most tender spot. He spread the lips slightly with each pass of his tongue, seeking that small bump of love.
A flash of intense passion coursed through my body that stiffened my every muscle for an instant. Only the need to support myself on the couch kept my hands from the hair on the back of his head, from pressing his face tight against me . . . from begging him to go further and further . . . until my body and mind were completely free and completely his ... to do with as he wished. . . to do what I secretly wanted him to do ... what I couldn't even admit to myself.
"Faster and faster his tongue moved, spreading my pussy lips further and further apart. Then he darted a deep, soft tender lance of love into me, searching for the very core of my being. His nose pressed deep into my flesh as his tongue sought deeper and deeper. It was flashing in and out, and tearing my emotions apart. He was setting me on fire.
"My flesh was turned into heated jelly and my willpower into pure submissiveness. The passion that filled my body was ready to burst.
"Then he was moving quickly upwards again. His arms crushed my body to his and his legs were between mine. One hand dropped from my back, and I heard the soft sliding sound of his zipper. Then I felt the unbelievable heat and hardness of him pressing against my leg. A small spot of oily moisture rubbed off and onto my thigh, leaving a burning path behind. He moved further forward. At the same time he pulled me towards him, and his hips arched upwards. I could feel the velvet softness of the head of his organ burning with passion. It was pressing urgently against me, and seeking entrance.
"His hands sought my hips and pulled me closer and tighter against him. I could feel that rounded hot head spreading the lips between my legs, and sliding over my pussy hair and onto my hot inner flesh. It was ready to plunge deep into its target. A small, detached part of my mind told me that he was being gentle, and slow. He was trying to bring me to a fever pitch before entering my body. Suddenly something snapped in my mind. Before entering my body!
"No, Tom! Stop! Please stop! I can't do it! I twisted and turned under him. My hands pushed him away, but my emotions were still trying to press my body even tighter against his.
" 'What the hell do you mean, stop, We can't stop now.'
" 'I must, Tom. I'm still a virgin, and I've got to stay that way.' The only answer he gave me was a short laugh and the beautiful feeling of his finger sliding slowly into me.
"Then, Tom was moving, and supporting my body. Suddenly, we were both lying on the floor, and his finger was still sliding in and out of me, adding even more to the fire that was smoldering along my nerves.
" 'Okay, if you want to stay a virgin, you will. But we're still going to get what we both want.'
"I had to fight against both of us, against my mind, which wanted him to finish what he had started, and against his superior male muscles, the muscles that were forcing me down flat onto the floor. The battle against my own mind I could have won, but, no matter how hard I struggled, I couldn't defeat Tom's strength.
"When he had me pinned to the floor he rolled me over onto my stomach, and his hand was pinned under me as he continued to caress my inner flesh with his fingers. His legs went between mine, and spread them. A sharp pain drew a line of exploding fire across my mind as he quickly and forcefully drove his organ into my anus. He pumped hard and fast. Despite the pain, his finger, which was still deep in my vagina, brought the fire in my body to the point of explosion.
"It seemed like only seconds before I felt an injection of unbelievable heat inside of me, right near the head of his pumping organ. That injection of scalding heat set off an explosion in me that took me right out of this world. I never imagined that anything could feel that wonderful.
"When Tom was finished he climbed to his feet, and without saying anything I rose and pulled my clothes on. He reached out to take my hand, but my mind revolted at what he had done, and I ran out of the apartment. From the phone booth on the corner I called a taxi, and took it home.
"I called in sick the next day. It was almost two weeks before I went back into the office. I didn't know what to do about what had happened, but I knew that I had to stay away from Tom.
"Then, one afternoon, there was a knock on the door. When I opened it Tom was standing there in the hallway. Neither of us said a word for long seconds, then he took me in his arms and kissed me.
"I've never forgiven him for forcing himself on me that night, but now I see him almost every night, and every night we make love, beautiful, passionate love. And, technically at least, I'm still a virgin. Who says you can't have your cake and eat it too?"
Was this actually a rape? We think so, in that Tom forced the subject into sexual intercourse against her will. Even though the intercourse was not through the normal channel, and she later decided to engage in further episodes of intercourse with the "rapist," the case still qualifies in our files as a rape. We must admit, though, that a case involving a woman who has been raped, but who is still a virgin, is highly unusual to say the least.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Case History No. 7
Here we have a simple situation that, other than legally, is not rape at all, at least in a moral sense. The woman involved - or, in this particular instance, women - actually wishes to engage in a sexual episode with the man. However, for psychological reasons, she is unable to admit this. Subconsciously, she wants and needs to be raped. She enjoys the rape both physically and mentally as it is actually happening, but afterwards she has to report it as "rape" to preserve her own mental balance.
"I'm not going to try to justify what I did, simply because I don't think it needs any justification. I hope the jury will agree with me, but I do want to explain about it.
"You see, some people seem to be lucky in everything they do, and some people are just naturally unlucky. Some people seem to have a natural talent for some things, and some people have no talent at all for anything.
"By saying this I'm not trying to make some sort of deep philosophical statement, or anything. I'm just leading up to the "why" of my particular situation. Some things happen to some people, over and over again, for no known reason. They just happen. With me, it's that every chick I meet is weird.
"I'll walk into a bar, and there will be twenty chicks sitting there. Nineteen of them are normal, healthy women with normal, healthy desires and appetites. But one of them will really be strange. Guess which one I'll end up talking to . . . and probably taking home? Right! The weirdo!
"While this can sometimes lead to some pretty fun-type evenings, it can get to be a drag after a while. I mean, after ending up in bed with chicks who dig only oral sex, or a chick who only gets turned on if you suck her big toe for ten minutes. One chick had to read comic books while she was screwing or she couldn't climax, and so on. I began to get really hungry for a ; normal chick who was looking for some normal sex.
"That's why, that night, I decided to try something different. I headed for my favorite bar, just like any other night, but I didn't plan to pick up a chick. I was just going to go in, order: a drink, and sit there. Maybe a chick would come after me, and maybe not. But, hopefully, if one did, since she would be picking me, instead of me picking her, she'd be a little less strange. "Let me tell you, it was really different!
Actually enjoyable. Just sitting there, sipping my; drink and listening to music without working my balls off trying to score. No tensions, no hassles, no put-downs. It looked like the start of a real nice evening, even though there was a chance I might have to go home alone.
"Not that I'd go home alone if I didn't want to. There must have been at least fifteen broads in. the place, all by themselves, and only six or seven I single men. If I'd wanted to try I wouldn't have had any trouble scoring. None at all. Of course, I knew what kind of chick I'd have scored. Probably some ding-a-ling who dug screwing only while standing on her head in the shower with the cold water running.
"After I'd been there about an hour, along came a really sharp one. Blonde hair, blue eyes, nice shape, and on the right side of thirty. She came over to where I was sitting, and I knew that it was time for my luck to change. Time to speak, Rover.
" 'Hi. Can I buy you a drink?' Wow! Up close she looked even better. If those weren't real diamonds I'd have eaten them, one carat at a time.
" 'Sure. Thank you. I'm Janice.' Her voice was pure sex. The smile she gave me with that thank you was bright enough to light up the whole room.
" 'You're welcome. My name's Don. I haven't seen you in here before. Do you live around here?'
" 'Not far. This is the first time I've been in here, though. I was on my way home, and felt like a drink, so I thought I'd stop. I've seen the sign plenty of times, but just never got around to coming in.'
"The bartender delivered our drinks, and we touched glasses before tasting them. We sipped at our drinks and continued the small talk, getting friendlier with each passing second. By the time the glasses were empty, we were laughing and joking with each other like we had been friends for years. I began to get that feeling that this was IT. I started to order another round, but she put her hand on my arm to stop me before I could get the words out.
" 'Thanks, Don, but I'd better get along. I wasn't planning on staying this long.'
"Oh, no! She couldn't do this to me!
" 'Aw, come on. Surely you have time for just one more. Unless you have a husband waiting at home, or something . . .?' I gave her my best little-boy smile. "
I'm sorry, but I really have to get going. I've been on the run since early this morning. I simply have to get home and get out of these clothes.'
"I tried to look as unhappy as I felt. I guess I must have succeeded.
" 'I don't want to spoil your evening, though.
If you want, why don't you come over to my, place, and I'll buy you a drink?"
"Oh, yeah! Baby, you'd better believe that's what I want. I was almost drooling at the prospect.
"I picked up a couple of bills I had laying on the bar. I got up, took her arm, and led her out the door. Once outside she started leading me, first to a Caddy convert parked at the curb, then, after a short drive, into a very expensive-looking house.
" 'You'll find everything you need for drinks over there at the bar. Excuse me for a minute while I get these sweaty clothes off."
"I mixed us each drinks, a strong one for me and a somewhat milder one for her, then sat down to wait. After a few minutes I became impatient, though, and walked over to the big stereo at one side of the room. I picked out some soft and romantic music, and put it on the turntable.
By the time I had the records playing I had finished my drink. I mixed myself another one and sat down to wait some more. Five endless minutes went by with still no sign of her, so I decided to go looking. I remember one chick who'd asked to be excused for a minute, then she came back half-an-hour later, madder than hell. She'd been waiting for me to take the hint, and follow her - to bed. Oh, well!
"A hallway led off the living room. I couldn't hear anything, so I walked back along the hallway. Finally, I saw one door slightly open, with a small amount of light spilling out through the crack. I pushed it open a little bit to look in, and when I did she looked up at me.
" 'Come on in and relax. I'll be through in a minute.'
"She was sitting, no, by God, standing, in the | biggest bathtub I had ever seen. It was more like an indoor pool. A good fifteen-feet long by ten-feet wide. Judging from the amount of her showing above the surface, it was between four and five feet deep.
"Her body, at least what I could see of it, was magnificent, and created an instant hard-on. f Without waiting for an invitation, I quickly stripped off my clothes and slid into the tub, which was filled with warm-but not hot water.
" 'No, Don. I invited you over here for a drink. Nothing else."
"Bullshit! I reached for her. Her hand went below the surface and began immediately to stroke my hot cock. I bent my head to lick the glistening drops of water off those lovely tits. We were both hot and ready. I wondered if she would stay hot all the way to the bedroom. I needn't have bothered wondering. It soon became evident that she wanted it right there, in that big tub of water.
"She pushed me back towards the edge, and I found that there were steps leading down into the tub. I sat down on the middle step. She quickly dipped her head under water to kiss the head of my prick, running her tongue all over it. At the same time she was tickling my balls with her fingertips. She came up for a quick breath of air, then went right back down again. She wrapped her lips around my cock and took it all the way into her mouth. She was really getting to me. Then she did it! She began blowing bubbles. The tickling sensation running up the length of my cock nearly drove me right out of that tub.
"She came up for air again. I grabbed her, and pulled her tight against me. Kissed her long and hard while my hands roamed over her body. I was still sitting on that damn step. I lifted her over until she was sitting on one of my legs. Her legs wrapped around mine and her hairy crotch pressed against my knee. I could see that the feel of the stiff hairs on my leg, as they brushed against the lips of her cunt, was really getting to her.
"I slid down to the bottom step, bringing the water level up to the middle of my chest. She spread her legs and wrapped them around my waist, half-floating. The hair between her legs brushed against the head of my cock, and brought me to the point where I had to get it on with her.
"I grabbed her hips and pulled her down over me. I slid my prick deep into her hot and wet cunt. Much to my surprise she began fighting me, and pounding on my chest with her fists. I pinned her arms to her sides by wrapping my arms around her. Her legs tightened around my waist, and we just sat there for a minute as I savored the sensation of our hot bodies being locked together in the cooling water. Then she released a little of her leg pressure, and floated upward. The friction of my cock inside her tight pussy was the only thing that kept her from floating completely away from me.
"I pulled her down again, and when I released her she floated upwards again. It was a great way to ball, despite the fact that she wasn't helping me at all. She just sat there like she was out cold. The pressures and needs that were filling me couldn't continue to accept that slow-motion action, though. I began to pull and push at her with my arms, which were still locked around her, holding her arms pinned. Soon she was bouncing up and down on me, and my hips began to jerk in time with her movements.
"Sweat poured off both of us as we fucked away, half-in and half-out of the tub. It was only minutes before her moans and shudders told me that she was ready to come, despite the fact that she was still pretending to be unconscious. My own climax was churning in my balls. When I felt her cunt contracting and shuddering around my prick, I let myself fire. I drifted up with my hips so hard that I came off the step, and we floated out into the tube. My cock was still locked deep inside of her, jerking and straining as I pumped hot cum into her.
"We went completely under the surface, and the shock of that cool water closing over our sweating upper bodies caused both of us to climax all over again. We came up sputtering and coughing. I slowly pulled my cock out of her and I almost cried out from pleasure and pain as the cold water hit it.
"We got out of the tub and began drying off with large towels that were hanging on hooks at the side of the room. She finished before I did. Without saying a word she took off down the hall. I watched her and saw which room she went into. When I finished drying myself I followed her. I couldn't get in, though, because she had the door locked. No matter how hard I pounded on it, she wouldn't open it up. Finally I put my clothes on and left in disgust. We were just getting started, just going good, and she stopped everything. What a bummer!
"I walked back to the bar to get my car, then I just went home. I was pretty pissed, not only because she had locked me out, but also because it seemed that even when I let a chick pick me up, I still got the weird ones.
"At that time I didn't realize just how weird this latest one had been. I didn't realize it until I got back to the bar the next night, only to find a couple cops waiting for me. It seems that she had called them, then sworn out a rape complaint against me. How do you figure a chick like that?"
The unfortunate example cited above shows just how the cry rape can be used by a woman to punish a man for something he didn't actually do. While the woman did put up a token resistance, it was obvious that she did not intend for the resistance to succeed. She wanted the sexual release that the man offered, but, for psychological reasons, she had to justify her participation in the affair by telling herself and others, including the police, that the entire incident happened against her will.
In our next case history, another of the "subconscious desire" types, we find a slightly different situation. The women involved actually did not have a choice, although the result would have been the same even if they had. The men involved were already being sought for other crimes, which made the additional charge of rape immaterial.
Case History No.8
"Getting out really wasn't much of a problem. Just a matter of knocking the right guard on the head at the right time, then walking slowly and casually away, attracting no attention. Staying out, though, proved to be more difficult. Within minutes the alarm was out, and now every cop in the county was looking for us.
"Mike, my partner, wanted to grab a car and run for it, as fast and as far as possible, hoping to get out of the area before the roadblocks went up. I gave this plan a fast no, and Mike had learned to go along with me. I figured that, even if we got enough of a lead to beat the roadblocks, we'd probably end up getting chased for speeding or something. The end result would have been the same - capture. We were both facing life sentences, since that damn fool bank guard had decided to chase us and had dropped dead of a heart attack. Technically, the charge was murder. I figured we'd probably never get another chance to make a break. We were to have been shipped from the county jail to the nearest federal prison that afternoon. When they took us out of our cells and downstairs to sign for our property we made our break.
"Knowing that we had only minutes before the alarm would be out, I didn't even consider grabbing a car for transportation. Instead, moving at a fast walk, Mike and I moved a short three blocks from the jail, and headed for an area full of apartment houses. We turned into the first apartment building we came to. Once off the street I breathed a sigh of relief. A little more luck, and we just might make it.
"Our luck seemed to be holding in the little things, too. In addition to numbers and buttons to push, each apartment door had a name-tag on it. As we went down the hallway I checked them out, looking for one that didn't say Afr. and Mrs. We needed an apartment with a single person living in it. My plan was to move into the apartment for a day or two, long enough for the heat to die down and the search to move elsewhere. It would be a lot easier to keep an eye on one person than two.
"The sixth apartment we passed had just one name on it, Linda Samuels.. I almost passed it by, hoping to find one with just a man in it, but the sound of a siren on the street panicked me for a minute. I stopped and pressed the doorbell button.
"She must have been near the door, because it swung open before I even got my finger off the bell. I didn't wait for her to get the door all the way open. I slammed my shoulder against it, and shoved it all the way open. Mike and I moved inside quickly, easing the door closed. No sense having the neighbors wondering who was slamming doors, and why.
"The chick had been pushed back against the wall when I opened the door. She opened her mouth, to speak or to scream. I didn't care which. I stepped forward and grabbed her, and clapped my hand over her mouth. She tried to bite me. Then she kicked back with her foot, but I held on tight, and put more pressure on to quiet her down. I looked over at Mike, then nodded my head towards the inside of the apartment. He moved out right away, and checked the doors.
" 'Hey, Jimmy. We've got a problem.' My blood froze for a minute as I saw visions of cops. I moved into the living room, dragging the girl with me. Mike was standing by an open door that lead into a bedroom. There was another girl inside, sitting on the bed. Her eyes were wide as she looked from Mike to me to the girl.
"There was a small bar near one wall of the living room, and I quickly stepped over to it. I grabbed up a small knife that I guess they used to slice lemons with, or something. When I had it in my hand I released the girl.
" 'Listen, you two. If you'll just behave yourselves, everything will be okay. Start yelling, though, and I'll make sure you never yell again. Understand?'
Both girls nodded, and Mike signaled for the other girl to come out into the living room. I had both of them sit down on the couch. I kept an eye on them while Mike quickly and efficiently searched the apartment. He came up with a little 25 caliber automatic. He handed it to me. After checking to make sure that the gun was loaded, I slipped the knife into my pocket. I felt a lot better with that gun in my hand. Knives have never been my style. Too messy.
"I explained to the girls that we were going to be staying for a few days. I made it clear to them that we were both convicted murderers, who would have no compunctions about killing them if they gave us any trouble. I gave them a choice. They could behave themselves, staying in our sight at all times, and I would leave them loose. Or, if they wanted to do it the hard way, we could keep them tied up until we left. Wisely, they decided to cooperate.
"Our first night in the apartment was sort of rough. I kept the radio tuned to an all-news station, and followed the progress of the search for us, while Mike and the girls watched TV. None of us got any sleep. Mike and I were nervous about the cops, and the two girls were nervous above Mike and I.
"One of them started to give me a little static about not wanting to leave the bathroom door open, but when I had Mike get some heavy twine from the kitchen she shut up quick.
"The next day Mike got a few hours sleep while I watched the girls, who had fallen asleep on the couch. Then he took over, and I slept for a while.
"I got up about four in the afternoon, and was scrounging through the refrigerator for something to eat. One of the girls, the blonde who had opened the front door for us, came into the kitchen. I asked her if there was any mustard around. She opened one of the cupboards, stretching to reach up to the top shelf. The opportunity was too much to resist.
"I walked up behind her, put my arms around her, cupping her breasts through her thin blouse, and kissed the back of her neck. To my surprise she didn't freeze up or try to get away. Instead, she pressed back against me, and wriggled her ass a little where it was tight against my body, and tilted her head to the side so I could run my tongue into her ear.
"I stepped back a little. She turned and came into the circle of my arms, and lifted her face to mine for a kiss. Our lips parted and our tongues met as she pressed tight against me. Then, breaking the kiss, I stepped back a bit. I checked to make sure the gun was still secure in my pocket, then I took her hand, and led her out of the kitchen.
" 'Where are you taking me?' she asked.
" 'Into the bedroom. And, if you're smart, you'll just continue to cooperate like a good little girl.' I saw a brief flash of fright in her eyes. I knew that I wouldn't have any trouble with her.
"Mike and the redhead were sitting on the couch, watching TV again. They both looked up as I led the blonde through the living room and into the bedroom. We both quickly stripped off our clothes, and got on the bed. I looked over and saw Mike and the redhead standing in the doorway, watching us.
" 'You can join us, if you wish.' Surprisingly, it was the blonde who had spoken. When I turned to her I saw Mike and the redhead step into the room and begin pulling off their clothes.
"I began by kissing the rosy nipples of the blonde, then I had a sudden thought. I broke away from her, and reached over the edge of the bed to my piled-up clothes. I got the gun, and slid it under the pillow. The blonde smiled, but didn't say anything.
"She reached down, and took my stiff cock in her hand. Pulling me towards her she made room on the bed for the other two. It had been a long time. I was ready. I climbed up on top of the blonde, and she wrapped her legs around me. I slid my cock into her hot cunt.
"She was tight. Her fingernails bit into my back as I pressed down, and sinking into her cunt all the way. Then I began pumping away. Next to me I could see Mike, pumping away at the redhead, dog-fashion. She was kneeling on the bed, and her tight-looking little ass was pressed hotly against him. I didn't have time to watch him get with it, though. I was too busy humping the blonde, and it was a job that required all my concentration.
"She was really good. Her stroking hips matched my beat perfectly. Her lips rained little kisses all over my face, and her hands and nails were pulling and scratching at my back. She began to move her ass in little circles under me, twisting my cock as I pumped. Several beautiful minutes later, my nuts seemed to pop. My cock drove deep and hard into her, and I pumped out a load of hot cum. Her legs clamped tight around my waist and she lifted up off the bed, moaning and groaning, as she came with me.
"Satisfied for the moment, I rolled off her. I saw that Mike had also finished taking care of his business. He was sitting at the foot of the bed, his legs crossed in front of him. His girl, the redhead, was laying curled up next to me. I looked over at her, and she smiled at me. Then she wriggled around on the bed until her head was near my waist.
"Despite my recent explosion into the blonde my cock was still hard. The redhead bent over it, and began kissing and licking the head of it. Then she slid her lips down over it, and started sucking, sucking so strong that the heat started building up in my body all over again.
"I laid back on the bed and let her suck away. I noticed that Mike was busy chewing on the blonde's box. The redhead brought me up to a fever pitch. But just when I was getting ready to come again, she stopped sucking, and climbed up on top of me. She sat down over my hips. Her warm, wet hot pussy slid slowly down and engulfed my cock. She put her hands on each side of me, and rested her weight on them. She began to move her hips up and down, sliding on my cock, slowly at first, then faster and faster. With jerking spasms that squeezed my cock hard inside of her she came. I was only seconds behind her, arching up off the bed to drive my cock all the way into her steaming cunt.
"The four of us spent the next two days in that bed. We swapped around, and tried every possible position . . . even some that weren't possible. It was fun, but there were still cops out there looking for Mike and I. I figured it was time for us to get out of town. During a four-way cigarette break, I told Mike that we'd better get going. For a minute I thought he was going to give me an argument. But his good sense won out, though. We got out of bed, and dressed quickly. We tied the girls up with twine despite the fact that they promised us they wouldn't call the cops. Then we left. I've got to say, though, that I would rather have stayed. It was really something."
This case had a rather unusual ending. The two escaped prisoners had kept Linda and her girlfriend, who had just come over for a brief visit, in the apartment for three days and four nights. When they stepped outside the apartment building they were immediately spotted and recognized by a policeman, who had stopped to write an overtime parking ticket for the redhead's car.
CHAPTER NINE
Case History No. 9
Punishment is often a major factor in rape cases. From research done by many psychologists, it appears that the administration of punishment, and the involvement in a violent situation, has a profound sexual affect on the male.
It is because of this strong sexual affect from violence that many near begin by administering physical punishment to a woman, and end with rape. Unfortunately, the combination of punishment and rape often ends in a situation much more violent than was originally intended.
"You know what all this peace and love crap that all the kids today are putting out is? It's a bunch of shit! Pure, unadulterated shit. You can tell just by taking a look at the creeps who are spreading all that 'Get Out Of Vietnam' and 'Peace Now' and 'Love The Niggers' bullshit. A bunch of bearded, long-haired degenerate faggots. That's what they are. Degenerate faggots who ain't got the guts to stand up for what's right and good and strong.
"For Christ's sake, they ain't even got guts enough to stand up for all that shit they're talkin' all the time. That's all they are. Talk! No guts at all! I know what I'm talkin' about, too. Let me tell ya, I ain't blowin' no smoke up your ass about them not havin' guts enough to back up their mouthin' off. They're all a bunch of stinkin' cowards. I can prove it.
"Last week I was up in the hills for an afternoon, and sightin' in my new rifle before deer season opened. I spotted a couple of them comin' down by Martin's Creek. A young punk kid and a girl, hardly older than my own daughter. They had one of them kraut busses with them peace symbols - American chicken tracks, I call 'em - painted all over it with spray paint.
"The punk, I guess he was about eighteen or nineteen, and probably a draft-dodger, looked like all the rest of them degenerate hippies. Know what I mean? Looked like he hadn't had a haircut or a bath in a year, and probably had a pocketful of marijuana. I could tell from the way he looked that he was some kinda dope fiend.
"That young swish that was with him wasn't much better. She looked to be about sixteen, so young that she should have been whipped good then sent away to juvenile hall for a month or two to straighten her out. She had one of them awful frizzed-up hair-dos that the niggers are wearing, and she didn't have enough clothes on to look decent even at a beach. One of them thin bikini tops and a pair of shorts so tight they looked like someone musta put 'em on with a spray gun.
"Let me tell ya, it made me sick to see those two dope-smokin' degenerate perverts walkin' around free down there, like they didn't have a care in the world, while good red-blooded American boys are fightin' and dyin' in Vietnam. If them rotten kids had their way them slant-eye bastard chinks would be over here runnin' the country, and they'd probably cheer the dirty commies on.
"I fixed 'em, though. Fixed 'em good. They won't be burnin' any more draft cards or American flags, or marchin' in any more of them parades with a bunch of faggot appeasers and uppity niggers. No, sir!
"Hey, ya keep what I'm tellin' ya to yourself now, ya hear? This is just 'tween you 'n me. I don't want it broadcast all over town. Some of them bleedin' heart pinko liberals might try an' raise a stink about if it'n they heard about what happened up there.
Anyway, the longer I stood there watchin' them, the madder I got. Finally I just got so pissed that I walked right down into their camp. I was gonna tell 'em just what I thought of 'em. Really give 'em a piece of my mind. I did, too, but then that young punk started laughin' at me. Them kids ain't got no respect for their elders at all anymore. Well, what the hell could I do?
"I jest saw red when he started laughin' at me, sittin' there leanin' against the wheel of that mobile whorehouse they was driving. I slapped him alongside the head with my rifle butt. That shut up his laughin' quick!
"He shook his head a couple of times. Then he got up, and I'll be damned if he didn't take out this little bitty pocket knife. He opened it up, and started towards me. Let me tell ya, it was my turn to laugh then. I was laughin' so hard I thought I'd bust a gut. You shoulda seen the look on his hairy face when I jacked a cartridge into my rifle.
"I wasn't pointin' it at him, or nothin' like that, ya understand. I just jacked a round into the chamber, and I'll be damned if he didn't drop the knife and take of runnin' like a scared rabbit.
"He kept lookin' back over his shoulder to see what I was doing, so I decided to speed him up a little by puttin' a couple of shots around his 120 feet. I musta been laughin' too hard, though, 'cause I hit him. Cut his spine right in two. It was just like shootin' runnin' krauts back in the war. Of course, that started the girl to screamin' and yellin'. I had to shut her up.
"She tried to run, but I grabbed her by the arm and slapped her one to shut her up, but she just started screamin' louder, so I really belted her. Knocked her out for a few minutes.
"With her screamin' shut off I began to think. I realized that I'd probably get a whole lot of static from Sheriff Lawson if he found out about what happened. Swear to God, I sure never woulda voted for him if I'd known he was gonna turn out to be soft on all them commies and niggers and hippies and perverts that been showin' up around here lately. Goes to show, you can never tell about a person.
"Well, shit, I got to thinkin' that, even when someone finally noticed that bus, nobody'd spend any time lookin' for a couple of missin' degenerates, so all I had to do was bury 'em up in the gully and nobody'd be any the wiser.
"Just about then the girl started to come around. Right away she started screamin' again, so I slapped her upside the head. Didn't do any more good than it had the first time, though. I was just about to give her another belt when I heard a car comin' up the road.
"I didn't want her attractin' a bunch of attention with all that screaming, so I clamped my hand over her mouth, and I'll be damned if the little bitch didn't bite me. Surprised she didn't give me rabies or something.
"Anyway, I hit her again to shut her up, and the car went right on by without even slowin' down. When I looked down at her I saw that the skinny top she was wearin' had come loose, and one of her titties was hangin' out. Let me tell ya, it was a good-lookin' one, too. I gave it a little feel, and it sure was nice and firm. Guess ya just can't beat that young stuff.
"She came to again, and started tryin' to wiggle away from me. She didn't do no screamin' this time, though. Guess she'd learned a lesson. I grabbed her to keep her from takin' off running, and then I got to thinking.
"What the hell! I was gonna have to kill her to keep her from raisin' all kinds of hell about her punk boy friend, but she was a pretty fine-lookin' little piece of tail. There wasn't no sense in wastin it. Shit! I figured, since she was gonna have to go, she might as well go happy. Besides, she'd probably never been screwed by a real man before. Ya know what I mean? Hell, what can one of them long-haired faggots do for a woman? They probably can't even get it up most of the time.
"Well, to make a long story short, I ripped them tight-ass shorts right off her. Took a little skin along with 'em, too. She started fightin' again. She tried to kick me in the balls while I was unzippin' my pants to get my dong out, so I gave her a couple more good slaps. Musta dazed her a little. Leastwise her eyes didn't seem to be focusin' too good. 'Course, she mighta been loaded on dope or something. Probably was, come to think about it. Them pervert kids is always loaded on dope.
"Even so, I had to use both hands to pry the little bitch's legs apart. Soon as I got down on top of her she started twistin' around again and tryin' to scratch my face.
"It took a little doing, but I got her wrists pinned in one hand without lettin' her get her legs back together. I used my other hand to get my dong started into her pussy, then I really shoved it to her.
"She was dry as a bone down there, and I really had to shove hard to get it in. She was pretty tight, too. When I shoved it into her she let out another scream, almost like I was hurtin' her or something. It musta been a scream of pleasure, though. She'd probably never felt anything as good as that dong of mine before. Let me tell ya, once I got inside of her she learned what a real man was like. Yes, sir!
"Well, I started pumpin' away at her, and she kept squirmin' around under me and tryin' to get her hands loose. That made it just that much better. It wasn't long before I was really gettin' hotted up. I knew it wouldn't be long before I shot my load into her. I knew that if I timed it just right, I could make it really good. I did, too.
"I laid my free arm across her neck, and when I knew I was about ready I just leaned my weight on it. Her face turned red, then sort of black as her eyes bugged out and her tongue stuck out 'tween her lips. She was really beginnin' to buck and kick then, but it didn't last long. She gave out with that last dyin' quiver, makin' her pussy shake like one of them scalp vibrators down at Joe's barber shop just as I got my rocks off.
"Let me tell ya, buddy, there ain't nothin' like gettin' your rocks just as she gives that last dyin' quiver. That's the second time I've had it that way, so I know. The first time was some Frenchie I found in a bombed-out farmhouse, but she was old enough to be someone's grandmother, and loose as hell between the legs. The quiver that young chick gave me was really something, though. Let me tell ya!"
The above case history was related to us by a slightly drunk man in his middle fifties who we happened to run into in a bar where we stopped for a drink.
At first we were inclined to dismiss the whole thing as being pure fabrication, but the more we thought about it, the more concerned we became.
Finally, worried that he might have been telling the truth, we reported the incident to the local police. Upon investigation, they found the bodies of a young man and girl buried right where the subject said he had buried them.
The subject was arrested, and tried for two counts of murder and one count of rape. Our testimony was the substantiating element for the district attorney's case. The subject was convicted, and sentenced to death for his crimes.
CHAPTER TEN
Case History No. 10
In this chapter we will study a form of rape that is by legal definition only. What has been come to be called "Statutory Rape," the sexual violation, with or without her consent, of a female below the established "age of consent."
In many cases statutory rape involves juveniles exclusively, in that both partners are under the "age of consent," which varies from state to state. In some states, this age is as low as eight, and in others as high as twenty-one.
"You know what? I'm probably going to go to jail for ballin' this chick. The law says she was too young, but I sorta think it was worth it. It had to be one of the best balls I've ever had, and I've had a few.
"It all started when this family moved in next door to me. They had a daughter that was really sharp, even though she was a bit young. Now, for some reason, people trust me. It didn't take me long to make friends with them, and with their daughter. She was a real fox. Long, naturally red hair, slightly slanted green eyes, heart-shaped face, outstanding (pun intended) breasts, tiny waist, and long, long legs, but she was only fourteen years old. Her name was Ruth.
"My place has a pool, and it wasn't long before she was coming over in the afternoons, after she got out of school.
We spent a lot of time just sitting around talking, and getting a tan. During one of those talks I casually mentioned how much fun I had had flying up to Lake Tahoe in my new plane the previous weekend. When she expressed an interest in my flying abilities I brushed it off with a show of modesty, and changed the subject. Just as she was getting ready to go home for supper, she asked me if I would take her flying some day.
"I'd been waiting for just that question. When it came I made arrangements with her to take her up after she got out of school the next day. I warned her not to mention it to her folks, though, since they might not approve.
"When we got to the airport the next afternoon the gas crew already had my plane, a Cessna 182, out on the line. It was fueled and ready to go. I took Ruth along with me as I made my pre-flight inspection. I explained to her just what I was doing, and why. I've found that this greatly eases any nervousness a passenger might feel.
"I helped her into the right seat. I showed her where to step and where to hold on. As she swung herself into the seat, I copped a little feel of her butt. A feel that she was well aware of. Then I walked around and climbed into the left seat.
"I had to lean across to help her fasten her seat belt. I gave her a quick kiss on the lips as I did so. Then I concentrated on getting the engine started and the plane ready to go. Once the engine was running and warmed a little I taxied down to the end of the ramp and got clearance from the ground controller to enter the taxi way. Then I headed for the end of the runway, explaining the controls and some of the simpler instruments to Ruth as we bounced along.
"Both mags checked. The altimeter was set, and we got clearance from the tower. Minutes later we were in the air, climbing through some slight turbulence from rising hot air from the city. Then we were out over the ocean. I pointed the nose north, trimming for a 300-foot-per minute climb until we reached five-thousand, then we leveled out.
"I spent the next half-hour letting Ruth follow through with me on the controls. I did some gentle banks and turns, slight glides with the engine just ticking over, then climbs to regain the lost altitude. Then I turned the controls over to her. I winced inside as she horsed the plane all over the sky, skidding turns when she remembered to use the rudder but not the ailerons. Hundreds of feet were lost in each turn. We almost stalled as she tried to get it back up by pulling back on the wheel without advancing the throttle.
"Finally I took the controls back from her, then I gave her a bit of a ride. I eased back on the wheel without touching the throttle. The nose climbed high above the horizon. In seconds I began to get that sloppy feeling in the controls that said we were on the verge of a stall. The warning horn came on ac the wings started to buffet, then the nose snapped down as the wings stalled out, and pulled us up against out seat-belts.
"The left wing dropped, and the plane began to spin slowly. I let it go through three complete revolutions before feeding in the throttle and opposite rudder, and straightening out in a shallow dive.
"I took her right down on the deck, fifty feet above the waves and a hundred feet from the beach, and held her there. Ruth got a good look at the people on the beach and in the water. She was getting the feel of how fast the plane seems to move when you're right down near the ground.
"I held the plane there for above five minutes, until I saw the masts of a sailboat ahead of us. Just before we reached the boat, Ruth's eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of her head. I pulled the nose up hard, and slammed on full throttle. Soon we were again leveled off at five-thousand.
"Ruth's eyes were closed, but her body was relaxed in the seat. I set the simple-minded autopilot, released my seatbelt, and reached for her. I unsnapped her seatbelt. She came into my arms, and our lips locked together in a deep, searching tongue kiss. She may have been young, but she obviously wasn't inexperienced!
"I carefully raised up, slid between the seats and got into the back seat. Then pulled her after me. I had to let go of her for a minute to lean forward and reset the trim to compensate for the changed center of gravity of the airplane, then I settled back again with my arms around her.
"Our lips locked together again. I released the buttons of her blouse and the snap of her brassiere. With my left hand I traced the outline of her nipple on first one breast, then the other, and squeezed them gently between my fingers. Then I dropped my hand to the zipper on her hot-pants. I pulled it down without breaking the kiss. She lifted her hips so I could pull her hot pants and panties off.
"I broke away from her for a few seconds to strip off my own clothes, seconds which she used to pull off her open blouse and bra. I started to kiss and play with her body again. I mumbled little things about how beautiful she was and how much I loved her wonderful breasts, but she was in a hurry, and told me so.
"She wrapped her hand around my cock, and, urged me over on top of her. My legs were soon between hers, and my cock was pressing against | the red crotch hair between her legs. Her hand guided my cock into her. Then she pulled me down tight. Her fingernails were digging into my back. She started to moan loudly and telling me I how good my cock felt inside of her.
"I began to pump up and down, and in minutes she was squirming underneath me. Soon she was squealing and moaning, louder and louder. She was ecstatic at what I was doing to her, and soon both of us were nearing a climax.
"Her legs wrapped around mine, and her feet locked inside my ankles. We slammed together again and again. I drove the full length of my cock into her sweet little cunt with each downward thrust. Then I drew back until I was almost completely out of her. And then I slammed downward again at the urging of her sharp nails.
"We were both only seconds away from a mutual climax when the plane suddenly ran into some turbulence. In the next few seconds we must have lost two-thousand feet. Like the drop of an elevator which leaves you feeling light, but much stronger. The plane was falling away from under us, leaving our intertwined bodies floating in midair, still pumping away. Then, before my mind had a chance to react, the stupid autopilot leveled the plane out. We slammed back into the seat, and both of us were screaming from the sharp shock of hitting the seat, and from the tremendous explosion of the mutual climax we had just achieved.
"It was the greatest orgasm I'd ever experienced. Later she told me that when my cock drove deep into her, it was like nothing she'd ever before experienced or imagined. In a word, it was out-of-sight!
"When my cock stopped jerking and my heart came down out of my mouth. I scrambled back up to the controls and got the plane back up to five-thousand. Then I turned it around, and headed back towards the airport. She joined me back in the front seats, and we began the squirming around that was necessary for us to get our clothes on. I didn't even notice that her brassiere had been holding down the transmit button on the microphone. I found out all about it when we got back to the airport, though. Representatives of both the FA A and the police were waiting, and wanted to talk to me about broadcasting obscene programs. When the police found out how old Ruth was, though, the charges became a lot more serious.
"You know what, though? I don't really care. No matter what they do, it was worth it."
Case History No. 11
In our next case history, another Statutory Rape, we once again find ourselves studying the actions of a motorcyclist. He was involved with two young women, neither of whom had yet reached the legal age of consent even though they were living alone and sharing an apartment.
"Riding a bike can really be a gas, especially a chopper. The freedom and sense of power that a chopper rider feels every time he kicks his machine to life is like nothing else in the world.
"Of course, there are several other side-benefits to riding that make it even more enjoyable. Like the undisguised envy that every young guy who sees you feels, and the fear that most older people feel when you're around. Best of all, though, is the sight and sound of that big bike, and the to-hell-with-it attitude that a chopper automatically has that turns on the chicks.
"Not just the young chicks, either. Women in their forties as well as the teeny boppers. Housewives and hippie chicks. They seem to be fascinated by guys who ride choppers. When you get them on the bike with you they seem to blend that six-hundred pounds of steel and aluminum alloy between your legs, and with whatever nature hung there. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred you'll end up in bed with the chick.
"The weekend that caused all the hassle between me and the law is a good example. It was last weekend, as a matter of fact. I was just cruising around, not going anywhere in particular, just getting out to get some fresh air in my armpits. After riding aimlessly for an hour or so I pointed the bike towards the park, where a couple of the local rock bands were giving a free concert.
"When I got there I chained the bike to a light pole. I tried to walk over to where the concert was going on, but the crowd was so thick that I couldn't get any closer to the bands than a hundred feet. After pushing and shoving for a while I decided to give up and head back for the bike. Besides not being able to hear the music, I get awfully nervous when my bike's out of sight. Chains can, and have, been cut.
"When I got back I climbed on the bike. I left it down on the sidestand. I put my feet up on the bars, and leaned back against the sissy bar, completely relaxed. I worked a butt out of the pocket of my cut-offs, lit it, then I looked around to see what was happening in the parking lot.
"There were a lot of kids sitting around. Longhaired guys and surfer-looking chicks, all with long, blonde hair and great big eyes. At least, that's the way it looked.
"Two of them, the chicks that is, were looking my way. When I looked over at them I gave them a big smile. Next thing I knew they were standing next to the bike.
" 'Man, you sure have an out-of-sight copper. What kind is it?'
" 'The only kind, doll. A Harley Seventy-four.'
" 'Oh, wow! That's the same kind Peter Fonda had in Easy Rider, isn't it?'
" 'Yeah.'
"Her eyes got bigger and bigger. For some reason it looked as though she couldn't stand still. Maybe she had ants in her pants.
" 'Did you build it yourself?'
" 'Yeah.'
" 'Would you take me for a ride? Please?'
"I almost had to laugh at the pleading tone in her voice, but I managed to hold it in. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, or, more important, scare her away.
" 'What about your girlfriend?'
" 'She can go after we get back.'
"She had obviously misunderstood my question, figuring that if I took her for a ride, I'd follow it up by taking her girlfriend for a ride. Only I hadn't been figuring on coming back real soon. She looked good, even if she was a little young.
"I wasn't particularly horny right at that time, so I decided to go along with the program. I unchained the bike, fired it up, put the passenger pegs down, and she climbed on.
"I took off real easy. I wanted to see how she would react when I leaned the bike over in a turn before I really turned it on. She stayed right behind me, keeping the sissy bar right in the middle of her back. Then I really took her for a ride. I scraped the legs in the corners and pulled the front wheel off the ground on acceleration. We got back in about fifteen minutes. I repeated the whole thing with her girl friend.
" 'Hey, man, that was really groovy. I really dug it.' She was all smiles and shivers. 'You hungry?'
" 'Huh? Oh, yeah. A little bit.' It had been a long time since breakfast. I'd been thinking of stopping for a hamburger on the way home.
" 'Why don't we go up to our place, and I'll fix us something? Mary can drive the car, and you can ride me up. Okay?'
" 'Sure. Sounds good.' I was thinking that maybe I'd get a little action out of her, yet. Even if I didn't, though, at least I'd get a free feed.
"I fired the bike again. Irene, that was the chick's name, climbed on the back, and pointed to where a beat-up VW was pulling out of the lot with the other chick at the wheel. Irene told me to follow her. I did, but it wasn't easy. Either that VW was super-slow, or Mary was a super-cautious driver. For the roughly three miles from the park to their apartment I never got out of second gear, and at that I almost ran over the VW a couple of times.
"Mary parked the car and went into the apartment while I chained the bike up where I could see it from one of their windows.
"I held the door open for Irene, then followed her in. Right away I got a funny feeling, like someone was standing behind me. Before I had a chance to turn around a pair of arms went around my waist. A hand started rubbing at my crotch. I twisted around to look behind me, and it was Mary, bare-ass naked! I turned back to Irene. She was taking her clothes off. What a grabber this was going to be!
"Whatever was going on, I certainly wasn't about to fight it, so I cooperated by starting to undress, too. Irene was down to bare, beautifully tanned skin before I even had my shirt off. Then she and Mary decided to help me. They started pulling buttons loose, opening my belt buckle, and unbuttoning my Levi's. The last was accomplished with many assorted rubs against the bulge that was growing in the front of my pants.
"Irene took me by one hand, and Mary by the other. They led me into the bedroom. Nobody said a word. To be honest, there wasn't much that needed to be said. They led me over to the bed. I was very cooperative. I climbed into the middle of it and lay down on my back. The girls got in on opposite sides of the bed. Mary just sat there while Irene gave me a long, deep, tongue-searching kiss.
"When we broke for air, Irene sat up straight. Then it was Mary's turn to swap a little spit with me. I decided that it was time for me to try a little action of my own. I reached up with one hand and caressed one of Irene's tits. I rubbed my other hand gently back and forth on Mary's thigh. I was getting completely cross-eyed trying to watch both of them at the same time.
"I touched Irene's tit and she arched her back, almost like a cat being petted. I expected her to start purring at any moment. She didn't, though. Instead she looked down, and gave me a big smile. Then she lifted her leg up and over me, and straddled my chest. Her cunt was only inches from my eyes.
"The invitation was too much to resist. I bent my head forward and kissed those juicy lips. I curved my tongue and slid the tip of it in and out of those hot pussylips.
"I felt Mary shift her position on the bed. I was just beginning to explore Mary's furry patch with my fingers, when I felt her lips, slowly and hotly wrapping around the head of my cock.
"As I spread Mary's cunt lips wide with my fingers, I searched deeper and deeper into Irene's pussy with my tongue. Mary stroked and nibbled away on my cock. After a few minutes of my tongue-probing, Irene grabbed my hair with both hands and pulled my face tight up against her cunt. I shot my tongue into her as deep as it would go, wriggling it around inside before pulling it out, and then sliding it in again.
"Mary stopped sucking on my cock, and I felt the bed move as she again shifted her position. I felt the soft scratchiness of pussy hair rubbing against the sensitive head of my cock, then the hot wetness of a tight cunt as Mary lowered herself over me. My cock slid into her straight and true.
"She began to bounce up and down on me, hard and fast. Her hands squeezed the flesh at my waist. Her nails bit into my skin. As the passion built up inside of me I shot my tongue faster and faster in and out of Irene's cunt. With perfect timing, we all came at the same time, Irene's love juice flooded into my mouth. Mary came down so hard on my cock and groin that I knew I'd have bruises the next day. My thrusting cock exploded in a white-hot blaze of cum that seemed to never stop.
"We just laid there for a while. Irene began licking the salty sweat off my chest and Mary licked the cum off my cock and balls. Then, when we had all caught our breath, the girls switched positions and we went through the whole thing again.
"Later they found even more variations and different positions, just to keep things from getting boring. By the time we finally got out of that bed it was totally dark outside. I was still hungry, so Irene and I decided to run down to the local hamburger stand to get some food to go. That was a mistake!
"We didn't get more than six blocks before there was a flashing red gumball machine behind me. The cops! I figured it was just one of those checks that they like to pull on chopper riders, but I forgot about Irene's age. In a word, she wasn't old enough.
They took us both down to headquarters. The police doctor certified that we had both been involved in sexual intercourse. So, here I am, in the slammer. I don't know where Irene is, except that she's sure to be behind bars, too. What a waste. She's got a pussy that's just too fine to be locked up."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Occasionally the mental condition which leads to rape can also manifest itself in other sexual peculiarities and perversions.
Accepting the standard definitions of rape, that it is the commission of sexual intercourse with a female against her will or consent, can lead to the classification of some rather unusual cases as rape. Our next case history deals with such a situation.
Case History No. 12
Eloise R. is a young girl of twenty, the daughter of a woman (divorced) who has established herself as a very successful Hollywood film star. It has been determined through interviews with people connected with the case that Eloise was an unwanted child. Her mother was certain that Eloise would interfere with her career. Therefore the child was raised by her grandparents. It was only when they died, that her mother again took any interest in her. Eloise was fifteen years old at that time. Her mother's interest was very short-lived, however, and ended after three months. Eloise was enrolled in a very exclusive private girls-school. We will let Eloise describe, in her own words, what happened to her at that school.
"My first year at the school was basically a happy one. I was younger than most of the girls there (it was more a college prep for problem girls than simply a boarding school), and because of my late physical development I looked even younger. Even so, I got along well with my teachers. They helped me a lot outside of class, and I was very grateful. I tried to show my appreciation for their favors, and that's where things started to go wrong.
"I started off by trying to become friends with all the other girls, but it was almost like trying to get into some private club. The door to their confidence was tightly closed. There was a reason that I vaguely realized existed, but though I had no idea what it actually was.
"I did everything I could to try to break through that barrier. I didn't realize that the barrier was a planned added attraction, and designed to make me more pliable for what was to come.
"The group that I spent most of my class and free time with seemed to be "in" with the head of the math department. She was a woman about thirty years old. I was just beginning to blossom physically. It was probably because of this that Georgia, the math teacher, began taking an interest in me. She would often come and visit with me at night after everyone else was in bed. She would sit next to me and we would talk about many things. It seemed to me that she was a paragon of wisdom and virtue. I would gladly have walked behind her into hell. She was the only person in my life who was being halfway kind or friendly. I was very, very lonely.
"The first few nights we just sat there, talking calmly. After a couple of weeks, though, she began to pat me on my back or head. Sometimes kiss me goodnight before leaving my room. One night her hand passed over one of my still-budding and quite tender breasts. The feeling her hand gave me was lovely. A small tide of pleasure washed over me, and I remember that I blushed.
"Evidently that was the reaction she was looking for. The next night there was no mistaking her intention. Her hand stretched out for my breasts as surely as if I had taken it and put it there myself. This didn't bother me a bit. In fact, it made me quite happy. She let her hand remain there, cupped around my breast, for several minutes before she left.
"Like I said, I was a late bloomer, and I hadn't allowed any of the boys I had known to do any more than kiss me. My figure wasn't much to look at back in those days, so it wasn't really surprising that they hadn't tried very hard to do anything else. Because of this late development, though, I think that the feeling I got from Georgia's touch was a normal reaction. If I had still been in school outside, it would have been a boy's or a man's touch that was turning me on for the first time, not the touch of a woman.
"The changes that came over my body during this stage of my development didn't need much urging to develop into full-fledged sexual desire. Whether the hand that brings pleasure is male or female doesn't really seem to matter that much, as long as you get that feeling.
"The next night, and the nights that followed, will stay in my memory for a long, long time. I had never before, and have never since, for that matter, felt such happiness. I'll probably never be that happy again. Innocent as I was then, I simply had no frame of reference for what was happening to me. Every time Georgia laid her hands on me she seemed to find a new spot of tenderness and excitement to touch. I even got to the point where I was praying constantly that my breasts would grow more and more so that Georgia would have more tender skin to touch.
"What she was doing filled me with such happiness that I became almost like a slave to her. I followed her around the school like a puppy, eager for a kind word or a pat on the head. For a while I was worried that I was making a spectacle of myself. But, I later learned that this behavior was normal for the school. No one paid any particular attention to what was happening except Georgia herself, who used her hold on me to bend me to her will.
"Each of the girls in the school at my stage of development had been "staked-out" by one or another of the teachers, and all were being brought along as I was. We were all so wrapped up in what was happening to each of us, individually, that we had no thoughts for what was going on around us.
"It was a very clever campaign that had been well thought out to seduce us with our willing cooperation. Eager as we were to please our teachers we would have done anything they asked. If we had only known then what was going on I'm sure that the majority of us would have either screamed to our parents or run away. Maybe even committed suicide, to prevent what was later to happen.
"One night, after about three weeks of my sessions, Georgia took my hand and put it inside her blouse, placing it on one of her breasts. It made me proud when I realized that, slow as I had been to develop, I was already larger there than she was. I can't say that her breasts were tiny, but they were quite small, and had quite a droop to them.
"To touch them, as Georgia was touching mine, was a thrill I had not expected. She gasped and I knew by the flush on her face that she was as excited as I was. I didn't know just what I should do, so I just began rubbing her breasts and flicking my fingers across and around her nipples. At the same time, she was fondling my breasts and pulling on the nipples. I felt a tingling that shot throughout my body. It was the most exciting sensation I had ever felt. Georgia's hands were sort of rough and calloused. The friction and pull of those calloused hands passing over my soft, tender skin was simply wonderful. Suddenly she stopped fondling my breasts and told me to follow her to her room.
"I had no idea why she wanted me to leave the partitioned dormitory, but, naturally, I did as she asked. Once in her room she directed me to the bed. She went to a small case on her dresser, and then to the sink and filled a glass with water. She returned to the bed and handed me the glass of water, and small pink pill. Fool that I was, I took it without question. You may not believe this, but what happened after she gave me that pill would never have happened if I hadn't taken it. I may have been starved for love, and willing to do almost anything for Georgia, but I never would have done what she wanted me to do, what I actually did, that night, if it hadn't been for that pill - that dope.
"Anyway, she sat down on the edge of the bed next to me. She didn't put her hand on my breast, as I had expected. Instead she rubbed back and forth across the skin of my stomach. Each time her hand passed back and forth it crept a little lower, and finally it penetrated under the elastic band of my panties. Then she brushed it back and forth through the soft hairs which had just recently begun to sprout there.
"All the time she was doing this a strange sort of curtain came over my mind. It was a fog of many colors and thicknesses. Along with that fog came a sharpening of all my senses, especially my sense of feeling. Her fingers pulled lightly at the soft fuzz of my hair and sent little sparkles of red and yellow pleasure through my system.
"Her hand was moving lower, to the inside of my thigh. Those little flashes of red and yellow light became a wash of red light that filled my vision. It combined with a deep formless music that seemed to build in waves. I knew where the final destination of Georgia's hand was, but I no longer cared. In fact, no matter how much I squirmed or moved about on the bed, trying to hurry her, she continued her slow exploration of my thighs. She refused to be rushed, and moved along at a slow, maddening pace.
"Each time her hand moved to the top of my thigh I ground down hard on it. I was hungry to have her finger inside of me. The hairs of my pussylips stood straight up and screamed with an agony of longing. I could feel a lake of moisture forming within my vagina.
"It seemed to last for hours. My mind became detached from anything except the sensation of what was happening to my body. Finally the end of one of her fingers found the little stub of my sensitive clitoris. It was at that point that I ceased being a girl, and became a woman.
"Before I could comprehend what was happening, I reached my first climax. It almost shook me off the bed. My whole body seemed to be on fire. I was flying . . . soaring. My pelvis jerked and thrashed about as I instinctively reacted to that inner release. A roaring fireworks display exploded just behind my eyes, and seemed to go on and on and on.
"Georgia didn't stop there, however. I couldn't let her stop even if she had wanted to because of that drug she had given me. Her finger tickled and rubbed lightly on my clitoris. I felt her finger move into the orifice between the lips. She worked it in and out gradually, gently. There was little pain. She whispered to me that my hymen would be torn if she forced the entry.
I seemed to be coming apart. The desire to have her finger deep inside of me was overwhelming. But she again cautioned me that if I forced her to hurry I might hurt myself. I almost did it anyway.
"Her finger felt so good, that I actually prayed that whatever it was she was waiting for would yield soon to her touch. Her finger finally broached that thin membrane and she was freely probing in and out of my vagina. There are just no words for me to tell you how sweet and warm that felt. It was like having some small, warm animal taking up residence inside of me, and I never wanted it to leave. My vagina was, of course, still very tight, and it gripped her finger strongly. With each movement she made the walls quiver and contract, sending cascades of pleasure washing over me.
"I felt as though I was standing under an incredibly warm and soft waterfall, a waterfall made up equally of water and flashing lights. When the feeling got so intense and I thought I could stand it no longer, I reached my hand up to her neck and pulled her down over me. My lips met hers in a passionate embrace that I cannot describe for its great emotional strength.
"All through that long kiss her finger kept probing in and out of me. When it finally ended her body began to move downwards on mine. Her lips kissed first my neck, and then my breasts. One of her breasts slid into the valley between my legs, and her tongue left a trail of thrillingly cold dampness across my stomach. She stopped there, and spread quick hot kisses all over my tummy. Her tongue darted into and out of the depression of my navel. Then her hands came down under my hips, and she slid further down on the bed. Her nose pressed into my hair and her tongue slid out and licked softly at the tender lips of my vagina.
"At first I let my fingers play in the hair of her head, but in minutes a tide of surging passion took hold of my body and mind and I had to reach up above me, to the iron rails of the old-fashioned bedstead, and grab them with all my might to keep myself from leaping right off the bed. I wasn't at all prepared for the transcendental feeling that her tongue gave me.
"The burning fire of her breath passing through the hairs and across the tender skin between my legs, the flashing heat of her tongue as it turned and twisted inside of me, one minute licking lightly at my clitoris, the next minute hardening and plunging deep inside of me, the tickling chill where her hot breath passed across the wetness left by her tongue - all caught me up in spasms of pleasure that brought me to climax after climax. Each one pushed on the heels of its shuddering predecessor, until I actually screamed from the exquisite feelings of passion and pleasure that were filling my entire being.
"I didn't know how long I could keep on with those repeated orgasms, but I knew that it wouldn't be much longer before I simply passed out. Then, suddenly and without explanation, Georgia rose from the bed, and left me lying there so tied in knots of passion that I couldn't move. She went over to the dresser. I thought at first she was going to bring back some more of that devilish drug. Instead she opened one of the lower drawers in the dresser and pulled out a cardboard box. When she opened it I saw a white plastic rod-like object, some straps, and a small jar. She took the rod out of the box, affixed the straps about her waist, and suddenly she had a penis, just like a man. The jar evidently contained a lubricant of some kind, which she spread thinly across the tip of the rod.
"When she had completed her preparations she once again came to the bed and lay down next to me. A small part of my mind was telling me that this was all wrong, but my desire, both natural and that induced by the drug, stopped these fears, and demanded that she put that penis inside of me. Once again she fondled my breasts and kissed me. She put her tongue deep into my mouth and then nibbled my face and kissed the inside of my ear. My emotions, which had begun to unwind while she was getting that thing and putting it on, knotted up with desire. Once again I could feel those rivers of fire running through my body.
"Her knee slipped between my legs, and her thigh rubbed against that excited spot between my legs. Then she shifted her body up on top of mine, her arms taking her weight, and her legs spread mine apart. Thanks to that lubricant she had used, and my own wetness, I hardly felt it when the head of that plastic penis spread my lips, but when she began to push it deeper I felt as though I was being split in two. I felt every fraction of an inch as it slid into me. As the ridge behind the head of that penis pushed into my vagina, I got such a searing, hot feeling that I thought I was going to come again right then.
"Finally she had it all the way inside of me. She began to pump up and down, slowly, sliding that plastic tool in and out of me. I felt sensations from the walls of my vagina that not even her tongue had been able to produce. Once again my body was wracked by shuddering spasms as I had climax after climax, following each other by only seconds. When one final, great spasm went through me like a bolt of lightning, like ten climaxes all wrapped up in one, I felt her body shuddering on top of mine. A hot sticky wetness dripping from her trembling body told me that she, too, had reached an explosive climax.
"From that night on we were together every night. Eventually I even tried strapping the penis on myself and using it on Georgia, but she never seemed to get as much pleasure from this as she did from using it on me. I hardly ever reached a climax while I was doing it to her, so we didn't do it that way very often.
"I know that you're probably wondering why I kept doing these things with her, despite the fact that she didn't use the drug on me any more. Well, I thought at first of committing suicide. I thought about it hard the morning after all that happened, but then I realized that, although I knew it was wrong, I liked it. I wanted more. So, I had more. It was really a shame when the principal caught us one night. I was so scared that I told him everything that happened, then I had to tell it all to the District Attorney. They ended up sending poor Georgia to prison. I didn't really mind, though, because by then I had met Roberta."
Is this really rape? Can one woman rape another? We think you will agree with us, that, within the technical definition of rape, this case qualifies.
CHAPTER TWELVE
In our last chapter we will deal briefly with two cases that are quite unusual. The female is the aggressor; the male, the victim.
Under most circumstances, it is almost impossible for a man to be raped by a woman. However, there are methods by which this can be accomplished.
In the first case, the female involved is able to offset the male's physical strength by the use of blackmail. This is the most common method by which a woman can force herself on a man. In the second case, the woman involved utilized a weapon. Specifically, a gun. In both cases the final result was the same. The rape of a man by a woman.
Case History No. 13
"When I got home from work I was beat, not so much physically as mentally. I kicked off my shoes, mixed a stiff drink, and collapsed into an easy chair. It was great just to sit there and relax, thinking about nothing, and doing nothing. The whole thing fell apart, though, when the doorbell rang.
"At first I tried to ignore it, hoping that whoever it was would go away, but they didn't. Finally I had to get up and answer the door.
"I yanked the door open. I was ready to growl at whoever it was, but the growl died before it was born. My visitor was Jeanne, the kid from next door, and her little sister, Marie. Both of them are really nice kids, quiet and neat. I really liked them. At least I liked them as much as any confirmed bachelor can like any kids.
"Of course, Jeanne was well on her way to not being a kid anymore. She must have been about fifteen, and was already well filled out. She had long soft-brown hair, big blue eyes, and lips that seemed to be set in a perpetual love-pout, even when she was smiling, which was most of the time. She wasn't smiling when I opened the door, though, and neither was her sister, a ten-year-old prototype of Jeanne.
" 'Sorry to bother you, Mr. Martin,' Jeanne said, 'but we have to talk to you. It's kind of important.'
" 'Sure, kids. Come on in. What can I do for you?' I led them into the living room and sat them down on the couch, and sat in the chair opposite them.
" 'Well, we have favor to ask. You know Bobby, my brother?' I nodded.
" 'Well, he brings home these magazines, the ones with the pictures of girls without any clothes on, and he hides them where he thinks nobody will find them. I know where they are, though, and Marie and I have read all the stories in them, all the stuff about sex. It really sounds like fun. We want to try it, but the only man we know that we can try it with, and trust not to tell everyone about it, is you. So, will you show us how it's done, Mr. Martin? Please say you will.'
"For a minute I was too dumbfounded to speak. At first I was mad, but I quickly cooled off and tried to speak calmly to the kids.
" 'Look, Jeanne, you don't know what you're saying. I couldn't do anything like that. To start with, you're both too young, and besides, it's against the law.'
" 'Please, Mr. Martin? We don't know who else to ask. We've thought it over very carefully. We really want to.'
" 'I'm sorry, kids, but the answer is no. Why don't you just forget all about it? In a couple of years you'll be old enough, then you can find out all about it from boys your own age.'
" 'I'm sorry you said no, Mr. Martin," Jeanne said, 'because I didn't want to have to do this. One of the stories told how to make a man go to bed with you. If you won't do it, if you won't fuck us, I'll tear my dress and then start screaming and when someone comes I'll swear you tried to rape me.'
"I couldn't believe my ears. I took a big gulp of my drink, hoping that the whole thing would turn out to be a figment of my imagination. It wasn't, though. When I saw the determination in Jeanne's face I realized that I was going to have to do what she asked. As the only bachelor in the apartment building, I had a lot of enemies, men who thought I was scheming on their wives. Men who would be ready to believe anything Jeanne said.
" 'Okay, but first you've got to promise me you'll never tell anyone, and I mean no one.'
"They both agreed. I got up and led them into the bedroom. I told both of them to take off their clothes. I sat down on the edge of the bed while they stripped. When they were both naked I had them turn slowly around in front of me, so I could look them over. I saw that Jeanne might be old enough after all. She was well filled out, and her firm young body looked to be ripe for plucking. Marie, of course, was much too young.
"I had them lay down on the bed while I stripped off my clothes. Then I lay down between them, and instructed them in what I wanted them to do. I told them that there was no way I could do anything with Marie, but she could take part in the preliminaries, and watch and learn while Jeanne and I finished things up. I started things off by kissing Jeanne. I showed her how to spread her lips and work with her tongue. At the same time Marie was playing with my cock until it got hard. Then I had her suck on it. Her mouth was so small that she could hardly get her lips around it, and she could only take in a couple of inches, but it sure did feel good. Knowing that this was the first time for both of them added a lot to the feeling.
"I broke the kiss with Jeanne. Just for kicks I shifted around on the bed and planted a kiss on Marie's hairless little twat. It was so tight that I couldn't even get my tongue into her slit. I transferred my attentions back to Jeanne. I spread her legs and slid my tongue into her tight little pussy. She didn't react at all, so I started working my tongue in and out, slowly tickling the inside of her tight little tunnel with the tip of my tongue. A few minutes later I felt a hot wetness begin to form in there, and I knew for sure that she was old enough.
"Following my instructions, Marie slid under me, her head at my crotch. While I continued to lick and nibble on Jeanne's pussy, I sank my cock down into Marie's waiting mouth. It felt so damn good. I started pumping up and down in short strokes so as not to gag her. Soon Jeanne began to roll and twist around on the bed. Then she started moaning and whimpering and I knew that it was time to get my cock into her.
"I had her lift her hips while I slid a pillow under them. I thought for a minute about going into the bathroom for some Vaseline, but I decided that the wetness my tongue had caused would be lubrication enough. I eased my cock out of Marie's busily sucking mouth and moved up on the bed. I crawled between Jeanne's legs. Slowly, I started brushing my lips over her young breasts. When I kissed her lips, she knew what to do, and she put a lot of effort into it. I kept my lips locked on hers as I lined up my cock with her cunt, and slid the head of it between her pussy lips. I stopped for a few minutes to let her get used to the feel of it. I could feel her body shaking under mine as her passion mounted. She was lucky. It looked like she was going to have an orgasm the first time - a good one, something that I understand not all virgins are capable of. I guess most of them are too scared, but not Jeanne. This was what she wanted, and I was going to give it to her. I was going to make it as easy for her as I could, but not so easy that I wouldn't enjoy it. After all, I was being blackmailed, so it was only right that I should get something out of it.
"Her moans and twisting seemed to reach a peak, and her tongue flashed around inside my mouth with deep urgency. I pressed down with my cock harder and harder. Soon she was trying to pull her lips away from mine as the pain began to get to her, but I kept our lips locked together. Then, with an almost audible pop, her hymen gave way and my cock sank deep into her.
"She did break the kiss then. She cried out, but the cry seemed to have as much pleasure in it as pain. I could feel the flow of warm blood around my cock as I started a slow pumping. In minutes her lips again sought mine. The kiss broke seconds later as her breath came hard and fast. Then, accompanied by a scream, every muscle in her body seemed to lock up tight for a second, then she started vibrating like she was having an epileptic seizure. I let myself go, and fired off a load of hot cum into her bleeding, spasming cunt.
"When we both finished I pulled slowly out of her. I saw the dark-red stains on the pillow under her ass. I rolled over onto my back, completely exhausted. I watched, too tired to speak, as she slowly got up. She winced as she brought her legs together, then she smiled as she looked down at me. The two of them put their clothes on and started for the door. When they got there Jeanne turned and looked back at me.
" 'Thanks a lot, Mr. Martin. That was really fun. If we can ever do any favors for you, just ask.'
"She didn't know it, but she already did me a favor of sorts. One I would rather not have had. She was building a baby. When her parents found out about it, several months later, she got scared and told them who had helped her start it. My next visit, as you might have expected, was from the police. The charge? Statutory rape!"
Case History No. 14
"Being a musician is a groovy way to make a living, but, like anything else, it has both good and bad points. The main good points are the bread, and doing just what I want to do. Not being stuck to a nine-to-five routine. The bad points are the long out-of-town tours, the long hours, not being free on weekends, and constantly being recognized.
"The worst part of that recognition jazz is with the chicks. Now, don't get me wrong. I dig chicks, just like any other normal guy. It's just that I like to pick the chick I'm going to make it with, not some young teenybopper who thinks she's in love with me.
"There are a regular bunch of those chicks, loosely known as groupies, who always follow me when I'm on tour. At the odd times when I get a week or so at home, they're right outside waiting for me.
"There have been lots of them over the past five years, since I hit the top, but there's one that I'll never forget. Mary. She wasn't any better-looking than the others, but she turned out to be a lot more determined. And, I guess, a lot smarter. She managed to get what she wanted, despite all our security precautions.
"I never will know how she managed to find out where I was staying. When I'm on tour the name of my hotel is the most closely guarded of secrets, and usually only my manager and the head of the local police security detail know where it is.
"The night Mary found me was a normal night, security-wise. My flight in landed a little after midnight. I waited for ten minutes for the last of the passengers to leave, and then I was taken out a side gate to a waiting car. My manager had the room all setup at the hotel, so we took the freight elevator up. He checked the room, and then left for his own room. I had gotten several hours sleep on the plane, so I wasn't really tired, although I knew that I had to get some rest. I tried reading for a while, but that didn't work. The only thing on TV was a movie that was older than I was. The longer I sat there the more restless I got. Finally I decided to call room service for some food. I ordered some bacon, eggs, and a glass of milk. They said that they'd send it right up.
"Five minutes later there was a knock at the door. I opened it a crack, without taking the chain off the security latch. I checked the corridor, and then let the bellhop in with the wheeled table. I carefully closed the door behind him so nobody could slip in while he was setting it up. I walked over to the bed to get the paper I had been reading. I got the shock of my life when I turned around. The bellhop was taking her clothes off. She dropped the white jacket to the floor. She didn't have a thing on except a really magnificent pair of tits. She looked me right in the eyes, smiling. She started to unbuckle the belt that was holding up her much-too-large pair of trousers.
" 'Oh, no, you don't. Sorry, baby, it was a good try, but now just get your sweet ass out that door before I call the desk.' I started towards her, intending to lead her back out into the hallway, but I stopped dead when she reached down onto the breakfast table and picked up a small, deadly-looking gun.
" 'NO! You aren't going to stop me now. Not after all the years I've waited. Not after all the planning and the chances I took tonight' There was panic in her eyes. I was afraid that if I moved she might actually use that gun.
" 'Take off your clothes. I'll probably go to jail for what I've done tonight, but I'm going to have something to remember while I'm in a cell. Something to remember for the rest of my life. I love you, and tonight you're going to be mine.' The panic began to fade from her eyes and was replaced by steely determination. The gun didn't waver an inch as she finished unfastening the belt that held up her pants.
"They fell to the floor around her ankles. She stepped out of them, and moved towards me.
" 'I said get your clothes off. I know you won't love me, not the way I love you, but, by God, you're going to ball me, or I'll kill both of us.'
"She meant it, which didn't leave me a lot of choice. I slipped off my bathrobe, and was clad only in my shorts. She closed the distance between us quickly. I felt the cold muzzle of the gun press against my stomach as her hand slid inside the front of my shorts, and grabbed my prick. I guess it was the shock, but nothing happened, which surprised me as much as it did her.
"She pushed me back towards the bed, never letting up on the pressure of her gun against my skin. When my legs were against the edge of the bed she pushed my shorts down. Then she used her free hand to pull my face to hers. I felt a stirring in my loins as her tongue probed through my lips and against my clamped-shut teeth. She pushed me back. As we fell across the bed a flood of adrenalin poured through my system as my mind braced itself for the shock of the bullet that I knew would tear into my body if our fall set the gun off.
"It didn't go off, though, although it didn't move an inch from the hole the barrel dug into my stomach.
"She motioned me to move up on the bed until I was stretched full length. She sat on the edge next to me. Her hand went back to my prick and wrapped around its limp length. She dropped her head and kissed the head of it, and ran her tongue around and over it until I felt my prick begin to lengthen and harden.
"As soon as it was all the way up she stopped kissing it and moved over on top of me. She still didn't relax the pressure of the gun against me, and I still hadn't touched her. Her mental condition must have excited her body, because as she spread her legs above me, the head of my prick brushed through the hair between her legs and I felt the wetness from her pussy that said she was ready.
"Her hand set my cock between the lips of her cunt, then she slowly lowered herself down over me. She was fantastically hot, almost burning, which turned up the excitement in me.
With my prick filling her, she just lay there for a few seconds, and looked at me. Then shocking thrills ran through my body as she started a rhythmic massage of my prick with her cunt. She tightened and squeezed her cunt muscles. She really turned me on with those grasping muscles that were absolutely artistic in their effectiveness.
"I couldn't stop my hands from going around her. I grabbed her by the ass and my hips arched up as I ground my crotch into hers. I pushed myself into her as far as I could. She smiled, and then began to pump slowly up and down. At the same time she moved in tight little circles and continued that maddening internal massage.
"Heat flooded through my body and I knew I was going to come any second. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. She slammed down on me, taking my prick all the way inside her again. Those cunt muscles actually pulled my prick another half an inch into her. Then, with a scream, she locked those beautifully trained internal muscles, and she came. I fired my load of scalding cum into her at the same time. I pumped everything I had into her. She sucked out even more with those squeezing milking ripples. Then she collapsed over me with a deep sob of satisfaction.
"I love you. I've always loved you. Please remember that I'll love you forever and ever." With those words she lifted the gun to her still smiling mouth and shot herself, splattering her brains all over the ceiling."
SUMMATION
As we have seen, what is generally considered to be a simple act of rape, is actually quite complex, and within that act there can be many variations. Some of them, if the pertinent facts are not pointed out, might not even be taken as rape upon first perusal.
In the first case history, the one involving the motorcycle gang war in which the rape victim ended up being killed, we find the attempt at mental justification on the part of the rapist that is so common in these cases. What he did was not a crime, but merely an act justified by the circumstances, those circumstances being a "state of war" between his gang and a rival group of motorcyclists, a rival group to which the rape victim was attached. The attack upon the girl became, in his mind, merely an extension of the attack upon the rival group. Afterwards he cannot understand why others cannot accept this justification, why they consider his rape of the girl a crime. This is a common trait in rape cases, and is the single strongest argument against those who consider rape to be simply a crime, and therefore something that can be deterred by harsh criminal penalties. In fact, the rapist is a sick person, in need of both incarceration and treatment. If an individual does not consider his act at the time he is committing it, to be a crime the thought of punishment will not even occur to him, and therefore such punishment cannot be a deterrent. Only a punishment, after the fact of rape.
The second category of rape, the "thrill rape," is almost always committed by groups, rather than by individuals. The individuals involved would seldom consider raping a woman if they were by themselves. Studies of those involved in group rapes show that, generally, they have satisfactory sex lives. It is only when they are in a group, with each egging the other on, either directly or through their actions, that they become involved in a rape situation. It is unfortunate that, since rape, per se, is not the aim of the group, other actions are usually taken, actions which result in injury and even death for the victims or bystanders. Sadism can as easily enter into this search of thrills as can rape.
One thing which is often forgotten when studying rape cases, and which should always be kept in mind, is that the crime does not end with the end of the rape, or with the capture and punishment of the rapist. The rape victim, especially the young or the victim who suffers physical damage during the course of the rape, often bears the scars of the rape on both her mind and body for the rest of her life, and those scars will often never let her forget what happened. With such memories haunting her for the rest of her life, how can any woman ever again be able to lead a normal life?
Pathological rapes are, in many ways, the easiest to understand of the many forms of rape. A person who is mentally unbalanced, and who actively seeks out a woman for the express purpose of raping her is a demonstrably sick person, and should be treated as such. The primary cause behind such rapes seem to fall into two categories. Older men who, fearing the loss of their manhood through age, seek out and rape a young woman to prove their continued virility to themselves; and young men, who, for some reason, usually connected with their physical appearance, cannot establish a normal relationship with a girl, and therefore seek out a girl or woman to rape, simply to relieve biological and mental frustration.
The "passion" type of rape, while rape within the letter of the law, is often an event for which the blame must rest as heavily upon the victim as the attacker. Most rapes of this type come as the result of the victim leading the rapist on, then attempting to stop him short of the actual sexual act. It is not surprising that some men, strongly excited by the woman and the "petting" that they had been partaking in, find themselves unable to stop. They continue on to the inevitable conclusion, with or without the consent of the woman involved. In a surprising number of cases the charges are dismissed because the woman decides not to press charges or refuses to testify against the man, usually someone she has known for quite some time. Indeed, in many cases the parties involved end up having a closer relationship after the whole affair is over.
In some cases we have found, usually by accident, the rape is not even reported to the authorities. Here the question arises as to whether rape is a moral crime as well as a criminal crime, or if it is simply a criminal matter. We are inclined to go along with the standard judgment that it is both in most cases, excepting most of the passion types of rapes and, of course, statutory rape.
Statutory rape and a rape committed upon a woman who desires to be raped are, in our opinion, rape in a legal sense only. Morally no crime has been committed, with one exception. Where a statutory rape occurs with the victim being a mere child. If the victim is old enough to participate in the sex act, and receive enjoyment from it, and does so of her own free will, then there' can be no moral objection. The "age of consent" is simply a legalism, that has been established by society.
There are relatively few aggressive and dangerous sex offenders in our population. Only two varieties of rapists may be called rapists in every sense of the word. One is the man who is loaded with hatred of women and acts out his hatred by an assault on a woman. Normally, he works alone, is rough with his victim, and may threaten her with a weapon. He thinks only of his own sexual gratification. The second type, the sadistic rapist, is a person who finds greatest satisfaction when he can inflict pain. It excites him to strike, injure, or perhaps to even murder his victim.
Man's behavior is believed to be guided by what brings him pleasure. He will normally turn away from the things which bring him pain and punishment. One readily recognizes that our modern criminal law is based on the presumption that man has the power to choose between right and wrong. Thusly, there should be a careful distinction between the rapist who is a sexual psychopath and the many persons charged with rape under our statutes.
We have presented the foregoing case histories in an attempt to enlighten the readers, and hopefully give a better understanding of the many varying degrees of the cry, "RAPE!"
