"Spending so much time on the beach, I was bound to meet new people, and I did. There were these guys who used to surf in our section of the beach where the waves were good, and I got to know them somewhat, little by little. There were three of them at first; then a few others joined them now and then. They'd hang out around my beach blanket, kidding me about what a nice bod I had. They wouldn't believe I was only fifteen, and I kind of forgot it myself.
"There was this guy Ernie, a mean-faced sort who always wore boxer trunks to the beach. This one morning he showed up in a launch. That's how it all started. He anchored it offshore and I swam in. I was on my blanket talking with some of the others when he showed up.
"Johnny, a short guy with glasses (he had a big bulge in his crotch, incidentally, that I thought had to be padding-how wrong I was!), asked Ernie about the boat. Ernie said he'd borrowed it for the day, and how would we all like to take a boat ride?
"I said sure. They all sort of laughed at my eagerness, but the upshot was that we all swam out to the boat. It was a lot of fun for a while; I took the wheel a couple of times, and it was exciting but scary. There were five guys in the boat and I was the only girl. And I was stupid enough to like those odds.
"We all took the boat way the hell up the coast until we finally stopped in a cove. Ernie said that a friend of his owned the house on the beach and we could go in and visit and he'd see if we could promote some breakfast. That sounded all right, so we all dove off the boat and began swimming.
"There was no one in the house, we learned when we got there. It was a nice place, well furnished and we settled in the kitchen and Ernie made us a pot of coffee. Then Ernie told the guys to sit down at the table and he would get the deck of cards. I wondered why they would want to play cards so early in the morning. They weren't going to play cards. They were cutting the cards.
"For me. Only I didn't know it at the time.
"They each took a card and put it facedown on the table, then they turned them over. Kenny, a skinny guy with a funny looking twist to his face all the time had an ace. Ernie, the guy with the boat, had a jack. He grinned when he saw that. Johnny, the little guy with the glasses and the big crotch bunch, had a ten. Sam, a skinny little creep who was very quiet and awfully intense about everything, had a nine, and Ronnie, a big guy with muscles bulging out everywhere, had a six. They were all laughing and joking and then Ernie said, 'Let's get started,' and he stood up.
"I was sitting at the table watching it all, and when Ernie put his hand on my wrist I stared at him like he was out of his skull. Like who the hell did he think he was handling?
"He pulled me up onto my feet and Kenny was standing up, too, his twisty face wearing a grin that was lopsided and sort of mean. Ernie was holding my wrist like it was in a vise, and he was hurting me.
"Come on, baby,' he said. 'You got some work to do in the bedroom. Kenny has the hots for you. He's going to fuck you, and then the other guys are, too. You know, that's what it was all about the cards. You get me after Kenny. Now come along and don't give us any trouble. '
"It took a minute for me to realize that Ernie meant what he said. I was standing there in a swimsuit that hid nothing, and when Ronnie reached out and tore my halter off, my tits jumped out like they were eager to be used. Ronnie's big hands tore my bikini pants off and I was standing there, stark naked, and they were all looking at me and I knew that I was going to die.
"Ernie pulled me along with him and I tried to hold back. I lost my head and began to scream and somebody hit me in the face and somebody else yelled out that they should hit me in the belly if they wanted to hurt me; it wouldn't show there.
"They picked me up and carried me into the bedroom and there was a four-poster bed and one guy tied one ankle to a post, another guy tied another ankle to a post and as soon as that was done, the creep Kenny, put his face between my legs and began licking me, and I started writhing and sobbing and moaning. Then they tied my wrists to the other posts, and I lay there spread-eagled on the bed, at their mercy like a trussed-up duck.
"Somebody said something to Kenny and he took his mouth off of my clit and he just laughed. He shucked his pants off and I could see he was built big where it counted. I was sopping wet down below already, and that was a good thing. Kenny climbed onto the bed and he shoved his cock into me and I was weeping and sobbing and yelling and he was shoving himself into me like a machine. He started to gasp; then he was shaking and whinnying like a horse, and then he started coming, and it felt like he was never going to stop spurting in me. He was slowing down and he finally pulled his cock out and I was supposed to be in agony, maybe-but I wasn't. Not at all.
"Ernie stood beside the bed and he had his boxer shorts off and his cock was stiff and ready. He was looking at my cute little biscuit and he was not happy.
"Damn you, Kenny,' he complained, 'you made a hell of a mess. I ain't going to put my cock into your mess. I don't like slop. '
"Johnny said, 'Don't Terry have anything we can rinse her twat out with?'
"I didn't know who the hell Terry was, but I could understand the problem. Ernie went off to the bathroom next to the room I was in and he came back with a vaginal syringe, the bulb kind. He got a washbasin and they lifted my hips up so that it was under me, then they put the nozzle of the syringe into me and washed me out. Then Ernie got on and screwed me, too. It was decided that each man would clean up his own mess. One by one they took their turn at me. Johnny was third, and when he took his trunks off, I could see he was not at all padded. He was a little guy, but he was built like a bull, and I was sure that he was going to tear me all to hell with his enormous rod. But he didn't. It was fine with him.
"Sam, the weirdo with the intense, brooding look in his eyes, climbed on top of me and I knew right away that he was the one to watch. He was crazy. He got his cock into me and he started moving back and forth and he was having a good time. The others went out into the kitchen to have some coffee and they had already had their turn, except for Ronnie, the mastodon. They didn't enjoy watching it all that much, I guess. Anyway, Sam started fucking like crazy and he was slobbering all over my boobs and he got the nipple into his mouth and he bit down and I let out a scream that could have been heard in Brooklyn, N. Y. That was what he was after, and as soon as I yelled in pain, he started coming, and he really poured the juice into me.
"When I screamed, the guys in the kitchen laughed. I heard somebody saying that Sam was having him a time. When Sam finally finished up, he got the basin and the syringe and he rinsed me out. His leer as he went off with the basin made me glad that the other guys were there.
"I was scared, and I was sure that they were going to have fun with me until they got tired of it, then kill me, and my folks would never know what had happened to me.
"Ronnie came into the bedroom to take his turn, and I worried about him too. He was a big man, tall, heavy, bulging with muscles, but he had a little boy's cock between his legs. It was hard and about as big as my finger. He climbed on top of me and started screwing me, but it was a big nothing and he couldn't get it off. He finally pulled it out of me and climbed up so that he was astride my boobs and he shoved into my mouth.
"Suck,' he said.
"I didn't argue. I did what he told me to do, and that did it for him. He popped, and he damn dear drowned me. He wasn't very big in the cock department, but once he started coming he really poured. . . and I had to cope with it somehow.
"He finally got off of me and I laid on the bed, crying and wishing that I was already dead. Ronnie went back into the kitchen.
"What do we do about seconds?' Sam asked. I could tell his squeaky voice easily.
"Ernie answered him. 'You ready for seconds, help yourself. That's what she's here for. '
"Ronnie stuck his head back in the room then. 'You want to take it a little easy man. You don't want to hurt her. '
"Sam gave him a disgusted snort; then he said something that scared me, and that brought Ronnie back into the room in a hurry. 'What's the dif? Were gonna croak her when were done anyway, so what's the difference?'
"Ronnie shook his head like he would love to belt Sam.
"She ain't going to die; what the hell is the matter with you? She ain't gonna holler cops. We got five guys that will say she offered. Go ahead and enjoy, but get rid of them crazy ideas. '
"I felt a thousand times better after that. I was so sure that they would dump me into the sea when they were tired of me. After all, they had kidnapped me, and they had raped me forcibly, and it was the kind of a situation that usually wound up with the girl getting killed. I was hoping that there would be a way out of this. There had to be.
"Sam was kind of gentle, for him, and he didn't last any time at all. I was glad of that. But I was having problems. I had to piss, and I knew that I couldn't take any more of them on without making things messy.
"When Sam was rinsing me out, I told him that I had to go to the bathroom. That was the wrong thing to say to him. He just smiled and said that I could just let it go, he would hold the basin and empty it for me. That was the best offer I could get and he put his face down there so he could look right into the hole as I emptied my bladder. He carried it off to the bathroom, and then I was alone again.
"And then somebody else arrived at the house and I heard female voices and I wondered what was going on. I found out in a hurry. Two very pretty young girls, not much older than I, came into the bedroom. They stood and stared at me, wide-eyed. They were very pretty girls, but their eyes were cold and cruel, and when they stood and smiled at me I felt like I was going to die for sure.
"One of them was a blonde, with very light, curly hair, cut short, and a very good figure. She was wearing shorts and a pullover shirt and her boobs were practically visible. No bra, just nice big tits and sleek young legs and a cute round behind. Her eyes were blue and they were like ice. Her name was Terry, but I found that out later.
"The other girl was a little taller. Her name was Cathy, and she was a brunette with small boobs and nice legs and a bright, twinkling smile. She looked at me and her eyes went right to my slit and I was sure that she was just dying to get at it. The other one too. Ernie wandered into the bedroom and he put his arm around the blonde's shoulder and I got the idea that she was his girl. The other went with Johnny, and I found that out later, too.
"You guys have got to be crazy,' Terry said, finally. 'I will admit that she is a gorgeous little item but she can get us all arrested and put away forever. This is forcible rape, and lots of other things. You have got us into a real mess. '
"Cathy, the brunette, was still looking at my crotch and she touched my breasts and I could tell that she was strongly lez. Maybe she would go both ways, but her best times would be with another girl. I sensed that, somehow.
"The guys came in from the kitchen, and the bedroom got to be awful crowded. One of the guys put his hand on my clit and he rubbed it a little.
"We just wanted to have some fun,' Ernie said, 'We been seeing her on the beach all the time and she was practically asking for a gang bang, so we decided we would obliged her. '
"Cathy smiled at him. 'We might as well have some fun and worry about it later. Why don't one of you big jocks fill up that cute little hole for one of us?'
"Those two girls peeled out of the clothes they were wearing and they got onto the bed with me. They had real pretty bodies, and when Cathy sat on my face she gave me the choice of eating her or smothering. I began to eat her, and she squirmed around, and while I was doing what she wanted me to do one of the guys was sliding his dick into me and I was thrashing around like an animal, and they all thought it was real cute the way I could turn on.
"I guess that I spent an hour with Cathy's crotch in my face and then the guys lined up on me, and they didn't need the syringe or the basin anymore. Cathy finally got off my face, and Terry took a crack on it. She bent over and I found out that someone had screwed her and I had to cope with that, too, but it all went all right. Cathy and Terry wound up on the floor, and one of the guys screwed each of them. Then they started a sixty-nine that was pure bliss for them.
"After a long while, Ronnie suggested that they untie me. I wasn't going to go anywhere and they could use me as they saw fit and I would do as I was told to do or else. Ronnie came over so that he could look down into my face.
"You promise to be a good girl if we untie you?' he asked. I nodded my head. My mouth was dry, my throat was dry, and I was sure that I could not have spoken if my life depended on it, but nobody cared. Cathy and Terry were free and standing up for the first time being and they untied me and helped me to get up onto my feet. They took me into the bathroom and they waited while I took a shower and got some circulation back into my arms and legs.
"Honey,' Terry said, 'we are going to have lots of fun with you today. We may have to hurt you a little, but that's only if you try to make trouble. These guys will kill you and think nothing of it, if they have to do it. But let's not give them any reason for that kind of trouble, okay?'
"We can take some pictures before we turn her loose,' Cathy said, smiling. 'I don't think she is going to want to tell anybody about any of this. '"Rape is a violent crime in which an adult male or males make sexual contact with a female or females, using force or threat to facilitate the contact with the unwilling female. It is essentially an act of aggressive assault and the fact that it is a sexual assault is really secondary to it's nature as a criminally aggressive act. However, the very fact that it is sexual has tended so greatly to obfuscate the circumstances surrounding the act of rape that it becomes difficult to sort out and categorize the essential factors that define it and it's significance as a manifestation of hostility.
One factor which must be present in order for a sexual contact to be truly recognized as rape is the use of force or threat of force. This can be in the form of physical brutality, such as slapping or hitting the victim and overcoming defensive struggles through superior strength, or it can be an implied threat such as the use of a gun or other weapon, which may or may not actually be used, but which is sufficiently threatening to subdue the victim by it's presence.
In this, rape bears a significant relationship with other violent crimes characterized by similar uses of force or threat of force, and these violent crimes in general are definitely increasing in our cities and suburbs. David Loth in Crimes in the Suburbs states the situation succinctly:The apparent increase in suburban armed robberies, vicious assaults, muggings, rape and even murder keeps pace with the city and rural trends, and seems to stem from the same causes. These should be mentioned in the plural, for no single one explains why material progress and lengthened schooling do not produce more peaceful citizens.
Since it must be included in a category of crime that includes other kinds of assault that can lead to murder, rape must be considered with gravity as a serious threat to the well being of the population as a whole. Some authorities believe that rape and other violent crimes are increasing because of an increasing incidence of portrayal of violent crimes by the mass communications media. The emphasis on violence in movies, popular fiction, and particularly in television programming, has been cited as a cause of imitative action on the part of the public.
However, the mass media are in fact a reflection of trends already existing within the population and cannot seriously be considered as a true causative factor. If a criminal imitates the style of a crime he has seen on television, he has perhaps technically been influenced by the media. But had that particular style not been suggested to him, he would have found another style or mode through which to commit his crime. Criminal acts stem from deeply rooted personal and emotional motivations which can be influenced only peripherally by outside stimuli.
In order to understand why rape occurs, and in particular why groups of men sometimes gang together to victimize women, one must examine the situations themselves and the personalities involved. In attempting to do this, there are a great many difficulties that confuse the issue and that have made rape one of the most hard to define legal issues of our time.
G. D. Shultz, in How Many more Victims: Society and the Sex Criminal, describes some of the difficulties encountered in trying to define and understand the act of rape:Statistics on sex crimes are misleading. Lack of understanding of the problem renders those regarding forcible rape, for instance, practically meaningless. In many instances no differentiation is made between forcible rape, where a man overpowers a completely willing subject, and statutory rape, which is intercourse with a girl past the age of puberty and under the age of consent. . . A girl in the "jail-bait" age range may have lied about her age, may be a professional prostitute, but it is still called rape if the man yields to her seductions.
But what throws off statistics even more, for all types of sex crimes, are the rather prevalent customs of not convicting men and boys charged with sex offenses and of permitting men charged with serious sex offenses to plead guilty to a lesser, non-sex offense, so that many of the convictions obtained are on charges not ostensibly connected with sex. Thus it is almost impossible to determine how many men who are arrested for forcible rape are, in fact, convicted and sentenced for that crime. It is almost impossible to determine the circumstances of the alleged "crime" which may, in many instances, have become a crime only after the fact in the guilty conscience of the semi-willing female.
It is apparent, then, that many men are victimized by current rape laws, unjustly accused of forcible rape when that is not what has taken place. An additional group of victimized men deserves mention, and this group is described by Kinsey, Pomeroy and Martin in Sexual Behavior in the Human Male:A problem which deserves noting is that of the old men who are apprehended and sentenced to penal institutions as sex offenders. These are men usually charged with contributing to delinquency by fondling minor girls or boys; often they are charged with attempted rape. Among the older sex offenders who have given histories for the present study, a considerable number insist that they are impotent, and many of them give a history of long-standing impotence. Thus the futile and misguided attempts of many men to find affection are labeled rape, and these men are also victimized by the inability of the law to clearly understand and define forcible rape and sexual aggression.
There are additional vague areas in which the sexual contact has in fact taken place, but the circumstances are cloudy and it is difficult to determine whether or not the act was accompanied by actual force or threat of force. One problem, of course, is that in some instances women have, in fact cooperated and then subsequently been unable to accept the responsibility of having done so. These women then accuse their partners of rape in an effort to preserve their own ideas of personal virtue.
These causes are particularly destructive, both to the confused and mystified accused men, and to the cause of the many women who are actually victimized. Because this behavior on the part of some women is widely recognized and acknowledged, many policemen fail to take seriously any complaint from a woman regarding forcible rape. In addition, many judges caution juries to hear the woman's testimony with reserve, realizing how difficult the charge is to prove. This in turn leads to the victimization and exploitation of women on a level which is at least equal to the victimization of men by false accusation.
Another factor which confuses the issues is the fact that violent physical resistance can in many cases actually prevent rape, and in it's absence the woman's acquiescence is taken for cooperation. However this fails to take into account the fact that a woman, if threatened with a weapon or even with verbal violence, may acquiesce in an attempt to prevent physical injury, preferring unwanted intercourse to physical aggression. In cases such as these, the woman's apparent cooperation mitigates against her charge of forcible rape.
All these factors make it extremely difficult to distinguish between unequivocated, aggressive sexual assault and a myriad of other sexual situations in which the question of force is hard to determine and even harder to prove. For this reason, many women who are truly the victims of rapists do not report the incidents, because they are aware beforehand of the possible ensuing difficulties and prefer to try to forget the incident as well as they can.
In spite of the fact that many situations cannot be technically defined as criminal, forcible rape, there are many instances where this does in fact, occur that it is important to try to understand the qualities of the true rapist and of the true victim, as distinct from those many confused men and confused women who confuse definitions by their behavior.
Paul Gebhard, et al, in Sexual Offenders, provide a fairly complete definition of the true rapist:Lastly of course, some aggressors vs. adults admitted without equivocation that they forced sexual relationship and were under no delusions about their victim's response. We have the impression that many of these men had a curiously impersonal, almost mechanistic, attitude toward their activity: they needed a woman so they got one, willing or not. Her age and physical attributes seem to have been of secondary importance; she was female, and that was sufficient. Often in their eyes the compulsive need was great enough to justify their behavior. . . There are intimations that such men consider women's main role in life is to provide sexual pleasure for men, and think a refusal to do so is a feminine perversity that deserves to be overridden if a man is in real need. Sadistic aggressors vs. adults to whom violence and pain are consciously desirable ingredients of a sexual relationship and who require contrived sadistic preliminaries, are rare: we found only a few of these. However, unnecessary (and probably unconsciously motivated) brutality was common. Here in this portrait of the rapist, we find some extremely important factors which must be kept in mind in evaluating individual instances of possible rape. The rapist has no comprehension of the woman as a person in her own right. His behavior is specifically enacted in order to satisfy a need of his own which for him, has precedence over the possible needs of any other person. He is not necessarily overtly sadistic, but his act is often accompanied by unnecessary physical brutality.
All three of these factors provide some insight into the kind of person who commits forcible rape. He is a person for whom the rights and needs of others, in particular female others, have little reality and for whom his own needs always take precedence. One could expect that for such a person this attitude would extend into many other activities. He is also a person for whom physical brutality is a fairly natural expression of what can only be considered as an overwhelming inner hostility that finds it's expression both in physical brutality and also in the refusal to consider the rights of others if they interfere with the rapist's own desires
To a certain extent, inner hostility must be considered the key factor in the formation of a personality for whom forcible rape is a possibility. This is particularly important in evaluating the circumstances in a gang rape or group rape. When this occurs, there is almost always one member of the group who takes the lead, instigates the proceedings and incites his companions to follow his example. In cases such as these, one might be tempted to hold the accomplices less responsible than the leader, because in most cases, without that blatantly hostile leader, the secondary rapists would not behave in such a manner.
However, in order for those secondary rapists to respond to the behavior of the leader they must, to some extent, possess within themselves those same qualities of hostility and contempt for others. Possibly the hostility and contempt in the accomplices is not strong enough to lead them to forcible rape on their own, but it must be present in order for them to respond and participate in the victimization of women. For this reason, no member of a group of rapists can really be held to be less responsible than any other.
Often in fact, if only one member of the group made some effort to countermand the behavior of the leader, the group would fall apart. The fact is that in most group rape situations, no one makes that effort. Each one of the participants is reinforced in his own hostility by the combined hostility of the others. And the group behavior emphasizes and maximizes those qualities of hostility, hate and contempt which make the sexual aggression possible in the first place.
Another factor which characterizes group rape situations is that they are most often spontaneous, rather than planned beforehand and are frequently the result of an increase in the part of one group member which is expanded and amplified by the other members until the group behavior becomes uncontrollable.
This is the pattern in the most typical cases of group rape. There are other instances in which the crime is planned carefully, but in most cases there are usually some motives to be found which are in addition to the basic hostility and sexual need which motivates most simple cases of forcible rape.
In these cases where there are additional motives, the particular circumstances must be carefully examined in order to Discover The True Significance Of The Act.
Chapter One
Punishment"Somebody once said that conscience makes cowards of us all, but it wasn't that way with me. The conscience came afterward. Because I didn't have a conscience, I became a coward and because I was a coward, I'll have to live with my conscience the rest of my life.
"I hope it's short, too, because what I have to live with tears my thoughts apart every minute of the day and when I do sleep it's only in fits.
"Maybe I could have done at least something. Any little move would have been better than nothing. Now of course, it's too late. Maybe, just maybe, by telling the whole story -of the rotten, and yes, some of the beautiful parts - I can get some of it off my chest and drive away the agony I live with every moment of my life.
"The whole thing seems like it happened centuries ago and then, like some sort of a silent explosion, happens again every day right now. I was tending bar in - I won't name the place because that's the best way I know of getting wasted - it was in Chicago. I'd been there for about a year. You know, doing my job and not knowing much of anything. That's the smart way.
"I learned a long time ago in New York to keep the old eyes open and the lip shut. You survive that way and in the final checkout it's number one who counts. Anyway, it was a first class club, bar and restaurant, good address, polite clientele. . . and for anyone who just happened to have a drink there or stay for a meal, it was probably just like a hundred thousand other bar-restaurants in any big city in any country in the world.
"I'm not sure yet who the owner was and I don't want to know. My boss was the manager. It's not his real name, but I'll call him Morie.
"Morie was a short sort of fat little guy who looked like he loved people and jokes and having a good time. He had a real gift of gab and a way of making anyone feel easy around him. But like I said, I'd been around for a long time and I could tell when I first met him that Morie was the kind of smiling guy you just don't ever cross - more than once.
"He'd been a bantamweight boxer at one time and I could tell right when I met him that, behind all the friendliness and smiles, Morie had a cast iron soul.
"At first, I took the job for what it was - or rather for what it seemed to be. I started out on the day shift, opened up the bar at ten in the mornings, cut the lemons and got the mix ready, you know, the whole set up business. Then I operated service bar for the luncheon trade and maybe caught a few live ones after the offices began to close. But the shift changed at five o'clock, and for the first year my tips were next to nothing.
"Like I said, it seemed like an ordinary job. I didn't have nothing better to do and, what with no family, the money was alright. I still didn't see anything off with the whole thing. The customers were well-heeled and if there were a lot more men than women, well, men drink more, that's all.
It was after that first year when the old bartender quit that I began to get an idea of what was really going on. Again, it's not his name, but I'll call him Burt. Burt was a fairly old guy. He'd been around for a lot of years, had seen about every part of life a guy could, and was taking it all philosophically and in stride.
"In the year we knew one another, we'd maybe talk for five minutes or so when the shift changed - you know, while checking out the well or clearing the register - but I got to know a little about him anyway. It seems he'd been on the bottle pretty heavily himself at one time, and because of it got into bartending. He hadn't had a belt for almost twenty years when I knew him, but he was the cynic to end all cynics. Somehow he got away with it because no one took him seriously. But I prefer to smile to a customer who calls me an S. O. B. Hell, maybe he'll buy another drink and tip big when he changes his mind.
"Not Burt. He knew how to throw words around and if anyone got out of line, he'd tell the guy off very soft and slow and there wouldn't be a customer any more. I guess Morie liked it, and none of the customers minded. Least they didn't seem to. And I got to really like the old guy.
"In those short little five o'clock exchanges over the year, Burt began to share a thought or two with me. Like how he drank himself out of a good teaching job and then hit the skids. How he liked tending bar because he could be on one side looking out at all the dumb drunks on the other, and a little bit of his philosophy, like 'Only your friends rape you. Remember that. You don't let your enemies close enough to open their flies. ' So by the end of the first year we were pretty close, all things considered, even though we never met outside of work. Maybe Burt stayed to himself a lot, I don't know. But I do know that for some reason, he trusted me.
"About a week before he left, he told me he had a daughter. She was married and living someplace in California.
"Then the next night he was clearing the tape on the register when he sort of brushed his hand against mine and I found I was holding a crumpled bit of paper.
"Don't look at that now,' he said.
"And then while we were double-counting the cash received he'd sort of slip in a word or two here and there like:
"That's one hundred and four, one hundred and five. . . my daughter's address. And then in change we've got fifteen-fifty in quarters. . . keep it. . . and let's see, ten-twenty in dimes. . . write her in a week. . . and two-fifteen in nickels. . . if you don't hear. . . the pennies are okay, you count them yourself. '
"Well, I put the paper in my pocket and left it in my apartment and then a couple of nights later the same sort of thing happened. We were clearing the register again and without turning to me he said, 'My last night, don't forget to write. '
"That's the whole thing. I never saw him again.
"The next day Morie came over all smiles and happiness as usual and told me Burt had quit. He asked if I could work through the whole night shift and then told me he was bumping me to nights. He'd get another man for the days. Then right after lunch before the offices began to break out, Morie called me to the end of the bar and I noticed his smiles were all gone.
"You'll be making a lot more salary at nights,' he began, 'and you know the tips are better. The thing is, we need the right man. Tell you the truth, I'm not too worried about old Burt walking out like that. He was too much of a goodie-goodie. Know what I mean?'
"I didn't really, but I nodded anyway.
"You're going to learn a lot more about life on the night shift,' Morie told me. 'And you know I've always believed that a good man is a very dumb guy. You know what I mean?"
"Now I knew what he was talking about.
"I hardly know you,' I said.
"Believe me, you don't know me at all. ' This time there was no smile on his round face at all.
"Well I got the message loud and clear. Something was going on, and believe me, I didn't want to know, and then a week later when I read in the papers about Burt, I began to know even less. The old guy had been shot, not once or twice, but six times right in the back of the head. The Chicago press is something else; they called it a 'gangland killing reminiscent of the Capone days. ' All I know was that they said old Burt had been found down by the lake, his body was covered with cigarette burns, a lot of them on his testicles. His eyes had been burned out and his tongue cut off. He'd been shot in the back of the head six times.
"I didn't want to know anything. I didn't even want to write that letter to his daughter, but somehow I did, then I tore up the little slip of paper Burt had given me and forgot the whole thing. I never signed my name to it - just told her, her old man was dead and the police would know about it, and I mailed it from Evanston. After that, I was clean. I worked my shift, tried to forget everything I saw and heard and planned to get out as soon as I could.
"I didn't count on love walking into the picture. That was Caroline.
"Caroline came to work there about two weeks after Burt left. She was beautiful and young and innocent and I fell in love. I mean, it wasn't any slow, long thing. It was just there, right at the beginning. I had never met a girl like her. I'd been tending bar almost all my life, meeting waitresses and whores and people like that, and here was a girl who was something really fine.
"We got to talking and she told me she was working to get enough money to go to school and that being a waitress seemed the best way to do it, and then we got closer and I took her out a couple of afternoons and then we'd go to my apartment after closing and talk until dawn.
"You know with other girls I might have made a pass or something, but Caroline was so innocent, that I never laid a hand on her. Oh I loved her and I wanted her, but maybe I'm old-fashioned. I knew no one had ever touched her before, I mean not that way, and I wanted it right with a ring and marriage and all that vine-covered cottage stuff.
"Also, I was getting more and more worried about what was going on in the club, because here and there I began to find out more things I didn't really like too much. You know, you get shifted from the main bar to a smaller one upstairs and mum's the word.
"What the setup turned out to be was one of the fanciest operations I've ever heard of. It was really nothing more than a fancy private whorehouse. Morie of course, was a front man or fall guy or whatever, and the restaurant and bar downstairs was just to make everything look more legitimate.
"Also, if you know Chicago at all, you know it's not too difficult to do what you want if there is a little grease put in the right places.
"The operation was really high class. There were some permanent girls who worked there, but the guys who came and bought them were sort of what you would call swingers. They'd have big parties in some of the upstairs rooms and I'd be up there doing my thing, I mean mixing drinks and playing blind as a bat while they were doing their things.
"Believe me, I learned a lot working there - you know, about people and animals and people and machines and people with all sorts of hang-ups, but I'd gotten the message from Morie I never said a word about anything. Not even to Caroline.
"Maybe I was just dumb. I thought the girls who waited on the tables downstairs were square and that was it. I thought the girls from upstairs came from other places. Boy, was I stupid.
"So I didn't tell Caroline about the upstairs, and I kept on saving my money and planning to ask her to marry me and then hoping we'd just leave together and maybe go someplace else and forget the whole business.
"We'd talk of love and marriage and it was pretty much of a sure thing, and then something happened I didn't like, but couldn't do anything about. Morie transferred Caroline to days so I couldn't see her that much. When she was working I was free and when I was hung up at the bar she was on her own.
"You know I hate the guy, but I still can't help but admiring the way Morie operated the whole thing. First he transferred Caroline to the daytime and then he started in on her with his friendship and his smiles and Mr. Nice Guy routine.
"Sure he was manager and had a lot of money, while I was only a bartender, and he had a big gift of gab like I never had and - well, he stole my girl.
"At first I was just too hurt and angry to do anything. You know how it is. You feel it's done. How can a guy get a girl back if she doesn't want him? How can you compete with a guy like Morie with all the smooth talk and the money and the tickets to big shows and all?
"So she left me and became Morie's girl, and I just sort of stood back chewing on a broken heart and let it go. Well, that went on for about a couple of months until one day she called me at home.
"She had to see me, she said, and she begged me for old time's sake to meet her.
"Well, part of me wanted to tell her off, but another part still had all the old love and I couldn't do anything about that half. I told her she could come over the next day, and when she came I saw right away that something was wrong - I mean really bad wrong.
"She looked like she'd been run over by a bulldozer. She'd lost about ten pounds and her eyes were all bloodshot and blue underneath, and I knew she had been crying her soul out.
"She sat down on the couch beside me and sort of just stared at the wall for a long time before she started to talk. When she did, the story that came out was sort of a classic bit of na�ve young girl done wrong.
"She'd fallen for Morie, she told me, and then she started to cry again. She'd been lonely without me. We never got a chance to see each other with the separate shifts and Morie had been kind and understanding at first - you know, sort of friendly and all that. He told her he wasn't really the owner of the club and he couldn't change the schedules around, but he was nice. A little gift here and maybe she'd like to go out someplace else for dinner and maybe she'd like him to listen to her stories, and then somewhere along the line she got the idea he was Mr. Kind-and-Nice himself and that he loved her.
"Boy, the idea that Morie could ever love anything or anybody but himself almost made me flip out, but I sat there trying to be decent while I was torn apart with jealousy and a lover's hate.
"Anyway, she went on, Morie was so understanding and then he said he'd been in love with her for a long time and that he really wanted to marry her, and she fell for it. Only then he went on and told her they'd have to wait for awhile. He'd gotten into some trouble gambling and owed a lot of money to some big people, but as soon as that was clear they could make it to the altar.
"God, she was so upset she could hardly tell the story. I guess she was upset at herself, because she knew she had been taken. She didn't know then, though. That's when Morie asked her to come live with him in his place, and he conned her into it. They set up in his apartment and he was the first one with her.
"God, did I feel like a chump. Here I'd treated her like Snow White, wanting the marriage and the right old-fashioned way, and then a guy like Morie comes along and with a few bucks and a smooth line gets her into his bed, conning her into a marriage that's nothing but a dream.
"But then she began to sob even more because the next little kicker is that he tells her he's having trouble with the man he owes the money to, and the guy has seen Caroline. If she will only do it with him - just once - it will save Morie from getting beaten up or shot or something like that.
"Well, at first, according to her story, she didn't like the idea at all, but Morie never let up and finally she figured just once and it would all be over, so she went ahead with it.
"And now she was crying buckets of tears.
"You've got to help me,' she begged. 'Please. . . '
"Help her, I'm thinking. Here's a girl I love with every bit of emotion I had in me. She was different and nice, and then she dumps me for another guy and he peddles her out to somebody else, and I'm supposed to help her. I didn't say anything, but I'll tell you, I was angry. Why should I help her? She doesn't care for me. She's just putty in the hands of any smooth-talking jerk who comes along.
"Then, through tears, she tells me that Morie got her doing it with not only the one guy but with a couple more and now he's making her work at the upstairs parties.
"I hate it, I hate it,' she sobbed. 'Oh, I've got to get out. '
"Yeah, I thought, and you want me, this guy you dumped, to help pull you out of the mess.
"Well, I'd been silent for too long and finally it just got to me, I blew my top. I chewed her out from the top to the bottom, told her she was six different kinds of whore and told her I wouldn't lift a finger.
"Hell, what had she done for me, except lead me on to think she was a nice young kid who might want some of the things I had in mind - dumb stuff like a home and kids and square stuff - and now, after putting out to every big-money jerk upstairs in the club, she comes back to good old Mister Sugar and begs for help?
"I told her I wouldn't touch her and told her to get out.
"She got up real slow from the couch and stood facing the door of my small apartment. 'I don't blame you,' she said, 'I really don't. I treated you very bad, but you've got to believe I didn't mean to. I got trapped, that's all, and it's you I love. I hate this life. I hate the trap I got into and there's no way out. We can't leave you know. If you won't help, I've only got one choice. I'll have to go to someone who will. '
"Then she walked to the door and turned around. Her eyes were full of tears as she reached out and laid one tiny hand on my wrist. 'I do love you,' she said, and then, 'Goodbye. ' That was the last word she spoke to me.
"She opened the door and walked out.
"I slammed it behind her thinking what a chump she had tried to make of me. Hell, how could I help her anyway? She was one of Morie's girls. I just hoped I never had to watch her in the act like I sometimes had to on those special parties upstairs when all the big wheels came around and had their fun. Sometimes, sure there were guys who liked it private, but some of them liked a little wilder stuff. One guy I remember, had about six girls around him while he was eating dinner; they were all naked and scrambling around playing with themselves and him while I was mixing drinks at a little portable bar.
"I don't remember the day of the week when she walked out of my apartment, but I sure do remember the following Wednesday. The club closed for the night as usual and I cleaned out the register and was ready to go, when Morie came over to the bar.
"Want you up to the Green Room,' he said.
"Now the Green Room was one of the upstairs rooms reserved for private little parties, but I knew there was nothing scheduled for that night. I figured it was just some sort of little meeting about the club policy or something because I knew Morie had asked a couple of the waitresses and all the waiters and I could see him running around telling everyone to get up to the Green Room.
"Well, in about twenty minutes everybody got closed for the night and came up to the Green Room. Nobody seemed to know why we were all there and we just sort of waited around, smoking cigarettes and talking small talk, which is the only kind in a place like that.
"It took a few minutes before Morie came in followed by a couple of bigger guys - and I could see right away they had souls of cast iron that made his look like marshmallow.
"There was no smile on Morie's face this time. He walked to one side of the room and leaned on the bar there.
"Everybody here knows what kind of operation this is,' he said, 'and everybody here has been doing his job - so far. You know every now and then, though, somebody gets some wise guy notion that they can play the game alone.
"Don't get the idea you can play out alone. We got a case here tonight of somebody who wanted to play out alone. We had a bartender a couple of years ago who did that, but I guess the lesson didn't stick. This time, it's going to stick.
"I'm going to show every single one of you what happens to anybody - get that - anybody - who tries to play it alone. '
"He motioned to one of the big guys beside him, and the gorilla opened the door.
"Two other big guys led Caroline into the room. She was dressed in street clothing. She seemed healthy and unharmed, but very scared.
"See this little lady,' Morie said. 'Take a good look at her because she's a little lesson for all of you. She got the wild notion she could go to the cops. Now I'm going to show you just what happens to smart little chicks who think they can go anywhere. '
"When they led that girl through that door, I really couldn't have any idea what was going to happen. I mean, I just don't have any imagination like that. Maybe, I thought they were going to chew her out a little in front of everyone and let it go at that, but I never had any idea what was really going to happen and I suppose when it started I was just too damn stunned and shocked to do anything.
"Like I said before, after Caroline left my apartment that last time, she never said a word to me. I've got to say, she was the bravest person I ever saw in my entire life, but God, how would anyone know how brave she would have to be.
"Morie just had her stand sort of to the right of him with the two guys beside him and the other two holding her, one by each arm. 'This little broad,' he started to tell us, 'got a wild notion that this is a sort of country club here and that if you decide you don't want to put out anymore, all you have to do is quit and walk off. You all better get the idea that you don't quit on Morie or anyone else around here. And when you're supposed to put out, you damned well put out.
"Another little things is you don't ever - I mean never - go running down trying to tell any fancy stories to the cops because, girls and guys, that's a no-no. '
"He may have been trying to talk funny and make us laugh a little, but it didn't work. I was listening to him, but looking at Caroline. At that point she seemed stiff-lipped and silent. She never looked at me, just straight ahead as if she couldn't see anything and as if her lips were glued together.
"I guess then I was probably thinking whatever they were going to do to her would serve her right. After all, she'd dumped me and become Morie's girl and then he had gotten her into the racket. She was doing all right I figured. I know something about what kind of money was being passed around for what kind of tricks in the upstairs rooms of the club. So they were going to have a little fun with her. What was wrong with that? I figured. It would teach her a lesson.
"The two big guys on either side of her held her by the arms as Morie reached out between Caroline's breasts and pulled at her dress. The material didn't rip right away, and he had to pull on it a couple of times before it tore apart and sort of puddled down around her hips.
"She had beautiful breasts, sort of young and upthrust, but then I was thinking about how many other guys had pawed them and maybe kissed them and, like I said, I figured whatever was going to happen would serve her right.
"The little lady here thinks she's something special,' Morie said to us all. 'She's got the wild notion that she can walk out if she likes, and if she doesn't, she doesn't have to do little things she thinks are not right in her special little book. Got a special little thing about broads, don't you Caroline?'
"She didn't answer him, just sort of stood there stony-eyed watching the wall in front of her. Looking back, it was like she knew what was going to happen, only I didn't. God, I've got to live with it, but I thought right then, they were just going to have a few kicks with her and let it go at that.
"Morie looked over all the people crowded into his room and didn't say anything, just sort of motioned to one of the girls standing near me. She was a great big one I remembered having seen her a couple of times. Just to make things clear, I'll call her Billie. She'd do almost anything when she was on call for the parties upstairs, but her main specialty - I guess it was the one she really got her kicks from - was doing shows with other girls.
"With men and animals I guess she considered the whole thing just business, but women turned her on - I mean really, and I could see by the look in her eyes that she was turned on now.
"Morie sort of beckoned her over and told her to take Caroline's breasts any way she liked.
"Well like I said, I was still thinking the whole thing was some sort of a bad joke, but I was bitter and figured Caroline was getting whatever was coming to her. If she had to go through a lesbian feeling her breasts and licking the nipples, well, she would survive to come back another day - only it wouldn't be me she was coming back to, because she'd already deserted me. I wanted no part of her.
"So Billie walked up there and started playing around with Caroline's breasts with her hands and then she sort of lowered her head to one of them, saying loud enough so that we all could hear it that Caroline would never have them felt so good before or after and then she just started to nuzzle slow and easy.
"You'd think something like that would do something to a girl, only Caroline's face never changed it's expression. She still looked half dead in the eyes and her mouth stayed firm. I mean, what difference could it have made, really. Sensation is sensation, and even if she didn't like the idea of a girl licking her like that, the feeling itself must have been good. She was being humiliated, that's all.
"And frankly, I hate myself for it, but I wanted her humiliated. I'm sorry for that now, but I couldn't help feeling it then.
"Morie let her keep on that way for awhile before he pushed Billie aside and then ripped Caroline's dress all the way down. She stood there like a statue, dressed only in her panties for a moment until Morie ripped them off too, and then, because she wouldn't move her legs - just sort of stood there waiting for whatever was going to happen - he ripped the elastic and then the smaller bands of elastic around each leg until she had nothing on but her shoes and the stone-eyed expression.
"I could tell that Morie was getting even madder by the minute because Caroline wasn't doing anything. She was just standing there waiting for whatever they were going to do to her and not giving anyone the satisfaction of knowing she was not enjoying much of it.
"I suppose it bugged Morie because, after ripping off her panties, he turned to us and said, 'She thinks she don't have to put out for the club. Got the wild idea she's Miss Somebody and can run off and try to sing to the cops. '
"He reached over then and grabbed a couple of her pubic hairs and just pulled them out.
"You'd think a girl would scream when something like that happened, only Caroline didn't make a sound. She winced a little, but that was all, and I suppose that really drove Morie up the wall.
"God damn it!' he screamed. 'You show the little songbird what she's supposed to do. '
"He turned to one of the gorillas standing beside him and nudged him in the ribs.
"The big guy looked at Caroline and sort of smiled. A couple of his front teeth were out and he looked like he needed a shave, so he wasn't the best-looking fellow in the world. I mean, he never would have gotten a job as star of anything except maybe King Kong.
"But the big jerk knew where his bread was buttered, so he sort of slow and easy peeled out of his coat and unbuckled his trousers and let his pants and underwear slide on down to the floor.
"But you know, for all his slob appearance and all the matted hair on his legs, he must have been a neat guy because he was very careful about those clothes. He folded them just as neat as you please and put them on the bar behind him and then got out of his necktie and shirt, and there he was, as naked as the day he was born - only it's sort of hard to think of anything like that ever being born in the first place.
"He was about six foot three and two-fifty if he weighed a pound, and he had big clumps of hair all over him and I've never seen a guy hung like that - I mean ever.
"I suppose he wanted to get on with it, but he must have been sort of sensitive because his member wasn't working the way he wanted it to. He played with it a little bit and then a couple of the girls in the room started to tease him about it. Finally one of them, a real bitch named Sue, just sort of ambled over to him smiling just as big as you please and reached out her own hand.
"It didn't take long after that. He rose up to his full length, and Sue was still playing with him when Morie pushed her away and nudged the big guy toward Caroline.
"Still she never looked to the right or left. She just kept standing there staring at the wall as if she was about to get shot. I suppose this annoyed Morie more than anything else. He shoved the big guy again and the big guy must not have had any brains at all because he just walked over to where she was standing and right there, without putting her down on the floor or anything else, just sort of squatted until he could fit where he wanted to and then gave a big shove and lifted her clean off the floor.
"She gasped once and it sounded a lot more like pain than pleasure, and her mouth opened and then I saw her clamp her teeth and shut her mouth. After that, except for little sounds she just couldn't help making, she never let anyone know anything was happening to her.
"Only it was. That big guy wasn't thinking of love or tenderness or anything else along those lines. He was like an animal, just rutting and rutting. He had her feet off the ground and her back against the bar, and he was shoving and grunting and slamming her back hard against the wood.
"Still she didn't make any sound except when the air was slammed out of her. I still figured she was getting what was coming to her. So what? She'd done the same thing maybe a hundred times before with anyone who paid for it. What was so bad about a big ape giving her a little extra?
"Then he gave a great big shuddering grunt and sort of hung in there for a second or two before he pulled away, none too gently.
"At first I thought Caroline was going to drop right on down to the floor. She sort of stumbled and staggered. I could see she'd been shook up a little and was maybe not feeling the best for it, but she stayed standing, still staring at the far wall.
"Morie, I could see, was getting real annoyed by this time. He nudged the second guy who had been with him and had him strip down and then the same thing happened again. Only this guy was more with it. He didn't have any trouble getting ready to do it. He was right up almost right from the beginning.
"He did it standing up, too, slamming her hard as hell against the bar, and I thought it was getting a little rough, only by that time it wasn't that I didn't care anymore. I was scared.
"I suddenly began to realize that these guys meant a hell of a lot more business than having a little fun with one of their whores who happened to get a little out of line.
"After that second guy finished, Caroline's mouth started to drop open. I could see it took a lot of effort to hold her teeth shut, but somehow she managed. Only after the third one, she didn't manage to stand up anymore. They were just knocking everything out of her like they were going to war instead of making something close to love.
"She sort of crumpled to the floor of the room and Morie stood over her laughing. That was when he motioned to the fourth great big guy to pile on her, only he must have had some sort of hang-up or had something wrong with him because he didn't take off his clothes. He just up and went down on her with his mouth.
"And you know, I thought she'd sort of enjoy the break, only I couldn't see what was happening for awhile. Then I really began to get scared because I first saw a little bit of blood trickle from the corner of her mouth. I could see she was biting her lip and she was biting it clean through. I guess to keep from screaming. And only after a few minutes could I understand why, because this last guy was not just licking. He was chewing on her! When he finished, his face was colored with blood and I could see she was bleeding bad between the legs.
"Right then a couple of the people in the crowd began to make sort of uneasy murmurs, but Morie stood right over Caroline. 'You don't like it?' he demanded. 'I don't care a damn if you don't like it. You got weak stomachs, you better start thinking of yourselves and what's going to happen if you think you're not going to put out for the club.
"Now every guy in this room is going to have some of this, and I don't care if there's anything left. '
"And that's just what happened. Now, some of the guys in there didn't care, but by that time I was frightened as hell and I tried to get into the background, crawl into the woodwork and not get seen, but I couldn't make it.
"Look, I figured, so it's not going to be too good for her, but it's just really a humiliation and nothing more. So the guy bit her a few times where it hurts. So what if I couldn't get in a position to do anything. Morie got that fixed by Sue only her hand wasn't enough. Sue had to put me in her mouth and after that I couldn't stop it working.
"I guess the only decent part of what I did then was try to be gentle and close my eyes. I couldn't look at her anymore. I'm glad I couldn't too because when I got up I saw I was all covered with blood and that her eyes were sort of glassed over. She was alive and all that. It's just that something of her spirit was gone.
"Well five more guys went at it one after the other. A couple of them decided to get fancy and turned her over, and believe me, neither of them was what you'd like to call gentle. Then one of those tried to get her to take him in the mouth, only she wouldn't move. He just turned her over again and rutted into her.
"By that time, her head was hanging down, blood was all over her groin and coming out of her mouth too, only she still wasn't screaming. I guess I knew then they were going to kill her one way or another, and I was scared half to death.
"I was getting sick and I didn't know what to do. I'm no hero, and I've got to live with it the rest of my life, but I just stood there empty and ashamed and watched the whole thing until everyone was finished and she was lying there, more dead than alive. And then everyone sort of drew back and Morie stepped near her again. He looked at all of us, each one separately, and his little chubby round face broke into a big smile.
"Everybody's had a nice look and some have had a little bit of fun right? And this little songbird lying here has had a whole lot of fun, haven't you, honey?'
"She didn't answer, so he kicked her as hard as he could right between the legs. The air came out of her and a half scream, but again I could see she was biting her lip, holding back the sobs of pain that tried to come forth.
"Yeah,' he said, 'she's having fun. Maybe not as much as she would have had if she hadn't decided to run on down to the fuzz, but she's having fun. Aren't you honey?'
"Still she didn't answer and again he kicked her, this time in the ribs. Again she uttered a little half scream and bit her lips. He must have kicked her hard because I could see little bubbles of air in the blood that was now coming out of her mouth.
"Little bitch!' Morie was screaming now. 'I am going to show every last one of you what happens to somebody who squeals on this outfit or tries to get out and sing to the cops. '
"The room was very silent for what seemed like a couple of years while Morie turned away from Caroline on the floor and walked behind the bar. He leaned over there for a minute and then came around again carrying a regular baseball bat.
"This little bitch had her chance, he told everyone. 'She could have been turning happy little tricks around here instead of trying to squeal. Now she'll never turn another trick and, believe me, she'll never squeal to anyone. ' "He stood down by her legs and raised the bat over his head. The big friendly smile was still on his face as he suddenly seemed to let go all at once. The bat crashed down on her right calf and I knew the minute it had hit that he'd broken her leg.
"The blood was still coming from her mouth. Now I could see her lower lip was almost bitten through, but she still refused to scream.
"I could see that Morie was getting almost out of hand. It was like he would do anything to make her scream. He broke her other leg the way he had her first, and then moved up and broke her right and then her left thigh, and then it looked like he was going to bash in her head.
"No,' he said. 'I've got something better for the little bitch and I want every single one of you little girls in here to pay the best attention to this little number, because it's what you're going to get yourselves if any one of you get out of line. '
"He turned around and whispered something to one of the gorillas who had come in with him. The big guy left the room and we all waited for about five minutes until he came back. He had a beer bottle in his hand.
"Morie took the bottle. 'Little squealing bitch thinks she's not going to scream. She'll scream,' he said. 'You're going to hear what it feels like to get out of line, every one of you. '
"He took the beer bottle and broke the top of the neck off on the edge of the bar.
"One of the girls beside me gasped.
"Yeah,' Morie said, 'your getting the idea. ' And then he went over to where Caroline was lying on the floor.
"At first I thought I saw some fear in her eyes, but then there was just resignation and contempt for him. And the S. O. B. saw it.
"I think that last little bit of scorn was what made him do it. Morie took that broken beer bottle and put it between her legs and then pushed as hard as he could with his hand before he got up and kicked it farther in with his foot.
"She screamed then! God, the echo of it still rings in my ears! She screamed then for every bit of pain and anguish every human being has ever suffered since the world began. It climbed the walls of the room and hung high and sour in the air as if it was one siren sound dripping, clawing at our ears and it was like it would never stop, as if all the breath of the world's pain was in one great big bag of her lung and being pumped out at one time.
"Then - I turned away. I couldn't watch. There was a soft wet sound and the screams were gone.
"It was like the room was empty. Morie had taken the baseball bat and given her the final blow, smashing in her brains to end the punishment.
"We all stood as if each of us had been hit by the bat and then Morie said, 'Get out. Get out, the lot of you. '
"I guess him and his gorillas cleaned her up and got rid of her. I don't know. I was so scared I hardly knew what to do. I got back to my apartment somehow and managed to pack a bag. I got out of town that night.
"I'm not telling you where I went, but I'll tell you this. I don't tend bar anymore. All I do now is try to live with myself, knowing that I had a girl once and that she might have been young and na�ve but that she did love me, and I turned her down. I could have saved her and I didn't.
"That one endless scream is still ringing in my ears and in a way I hope they do find me and kill me. It's better than having to live with what I live with.
"Yeah, conscience makes cowards of us all. But what happens to a coward who had no conscience and then finds it like that?
"You tell me. "The subject in this case is explicit in describing his present mental anguish; however, he is perhaps less than accurate in his perception of it's cause. His failure to take any action in opposition to the monstrous Morie comes at the end of a long history of intimidation, and by the time he is confronted with the torture and execution of his former girlfriend, he has long since capitulated to that intimidation and it's consequent fear. His behavior on the night of Caroline's murder must be seen in the context of the fact that he has been involved in Morie's activities for a long time and has never done anything to stop the growing mania of his boss.
When his friend Burt is tortured and killed, he refuses to allow himself to recognize Burt's murderers, thereby retaining his job and position at the bar, despite the fact that he knows subconsciously that his boss is a murderer. When Caroline comes to him and asks for help, he again refuses to recognize reality, deceiving himself as to his motives. Throughout his employment at the bar he has been practicing the philosophy he says he learned in the streets of New York, of keeping his eyes open and his mouth shut. He is obviously afraid for himself, and he avoids any involvement with less fortunate victims of Morie's intimidation, obviously because of his fear for himself. His inability to admit that fear, and the necessity to cover it up with various other explanations, all of which are spurious, have ultimately led him to participate in the murder of Caroline and degenerate into a hunted, haunted fugitive himself.
The fact that Caroline was unable to get help from the police is not surprising, since women who complain of sexual exploitation are often victimized by a law enforcement system which is far from efficient in the prosecution of sex crimes. Linda Buisson, in "Nice Girls Do Get Raped," from the Los Angeles Free Press, reports on a recent meeting of the Criminal Justice Committee that heard testimony from women who had reported attempted rape, and from rape victims. From the testimony, Miss Buisson sums up:Committee Chairman Alan Sieroty expressed unequivocal concern for rape victims and called for investigation and revision of California's rape laws. Restating victim's testimony to the press, Sieroty said, "Women are intimidated, treated with disrespect, as a piece of evidence when they choose to report the rape and when they try to help in the prosecution of the defendant. Procedures are not explained, prosecutors don't help them prepare for the bitter cross-examination, and their entire sexual history is delved into. . . "Thus it is apparent that there would be little help forthcoming for Caroline in reporting her plight to the police. Also, in the subject's consistent refusal to recognize reality when it frightens him, it is apparent that he would be unable to make a choice to defy the boss who successfully intimidated him along with all the rest of the bar employees with threats of violence if they refuse to cooperate. Regardless of what the subject says about his own motives, he must be considered to be the victim of intimidation and fear as well as a master at self-deception.
In the behavior of Morie we find a combination of motivations that suggest two things: first, he is primarily interested in power, and is using sexual exploitation and threats of violence to accomplish that end; second, he is probably deeply and irrevocably sadistic, and experiences genuine pleasure in the torture and murder of his victims. This mingling of pain and pleasure is explained by Leon J. Saul in The Hostile Mind:In sadism, some individuals gain their chief pleasure out of torturing others. There are people who only reach sexual orgasm through inflicting pain on another in lesser or greater degree. Here there is actual sexualization of the hostility. . . Some murderers experience multiple orgasms during the deed. . . Because of this pervasiveness of the sexual feelings, hostility can become mixed with them so that hostile aggression is part of the sex drive, and so that sexual feelings accompany aggression. Undoubtedly, the murder of Caroline accomplishes two simultaneous purposes for Morie - the further intimidation of his employees and the gratification of his own sadistic desires. To a certain extent, some of the employees themselves, including the subject, demonstrate some responsiveness to sadistic stimulation, in that they become aroused by the spectacle of Caroline's humiliation. However, for Morie the demonstration is a multipurpose moment in satisfaction and more than achieves it's purposes.
Richard von Krafft-Ebing in Psychopathia Sexualis makes some illuminating comments on the relationship between lust and power:. . . When homicidal mania has been excited, lust often follows. Lombroso alludes to the fact mentioned by Mategazza, that to the terrors of spoliation and plunder bandits generally are added those of brutal lust and rape. . . The examples of the degenerate Caesars (Nero, Tiberius) are also instructive. They took delight in having youths and maidens slaughtered before their eyes. Here we have an exactly parallel situation, in which a ruler displays his own power of life and death over his subjects, insures their further subjugation through intimidation, and gratifies his own sadistic desires. For the subject, Morie's tactics are all too effective. However, in his present guilt and shame, he continues to deceive himself. His failure to interfere in Caroline's murder is not the failure of his conscience. It is the inevitable result of his much earlier capitulation to Morie's rule. His earlier choices had placed him in a position from which it became increasingly difficult to back down. The final confrontation was with the consequences of his own behavior more than it was with the truth about Morie. If the subject had been honest with himself in the years he worked for Morie, he would surely have seen that truth long before.
There is however, not much hope for rehabilitation of the subject. This is primarily because he is still failing to recognize his real problem, and continues to wallow in the misery and horror of his betrayal of Caroline. Of more importance to his personal growth is the recognition of his betrayal to himself, and at this point he is so overwhelmed with the events of Caroline's murder and his own part in it that he is unable to see clearly his own role and his own responsibility.
Chapter Two
The Six-Day Lark"The six day hunting trip started with five total strangers getting together to have a beer. We had all answered an ad placed in a sporting magazine by one of the five. We were meeting to discuss the trip.
"Joe was the one who was organizing the trip and we met at his house. I had never met him, only written him and talked to him on the phone. He sounded like an all-right guy on the phone; in person he struck me immediately as being an asshole.
"But you'll put up with a lot for six days of elk hunting in Wyoming, especially at the low price Joe had managed to arrange for us.
"Let's set the record straight, though. Joe wasn't a professional tour guide or anything, he had just made arrangements and got us other guys together by placing an ad. After meeting him, I figured he was just desperate for somebody to go hunting with. That's why he went to all the trouble he did.
"Joe's wife was out, so the five of us had the house to ourselves. There was a guy named Ken, who lived only a couple of miles from my own house, although I'd never seen him before in my life. And then another Joe, who was a bachelor from out near Lancaster. Then Bill who'd been married four times and did nothing but moan about child support. Then the host, Joe, and me. My name of course is Artie.
"Joe asked us all what we wanted to drink; then when he had the orders, he came back in with a tray of beers. He got a big charge out of that; I mean, we all thought we'd get the things we ordered, like scotch on the rocks and things like that. But all he had was beer. He thought that was real funny. He was a weird asshole.
"It took us about an hour to get the arrangements established, like what time and where we'd meet. Both Ken and Joe - ah, hell, I'd better call this Joe, not the host, Smitty; that'll be less confusing - had campers. It was decided that I'd go with Smitty and the other two would go with Ken, who's camper was a little bigger. Man, this is boring.
"Anyway, after things were arranged, Joe went into the kitchen and came back with some more beer, and some news. 'I've got a surprise for you guys,' he said with a big grin on his face.
"We all sort of halfheartedly asked what it was.
"He walked to a closet in the living room and opened the door. The thing was jammed with movie equipment. 'I've got some home movies for you,' he said, and after letting us groan a little, he added, 'I promise you've never seen movies like these before. '
"We all heard what he said, but none of us believed him. Until, that is, he had the camera and screen set up and started the first reel.
"It started off with the picture being totally dark, then as the camera pulled back, we began to see what looked like hairs. And as he pulled farther back, we knew damned well they were hairs, because we could see that they were attached to what we'll call a very intimate part of the woman's anatomy.
"Suddenly we had a full view. It was a decent-looking woman, nothing more and nothing less, stretched out naked on a bed. She had her legs wide open and she was spread to the world. You could just about see up to her tonsils.
She had her hand down in her pubic hair and it looked like any second about four or five fingers were going to disappear. Sure enough, they did, and that lady got a look on her face that told the whole story. She enjoyed what she was doing.
"That's my wife,' Joe said, and he sounded so damned proud of the fact that I almost dropped my eyeteeth.
"Now Joe might have thought his old lady was the greatest thing in the world to watch, but if you want to know the truth, she wasn't anything special. About thirty-five, a little overweight, not-ugly-not-pretty, breasts a little saggy, ass a little wrinkled. She was a woman you knew from looking at that she'd had a hard life. Man, she had been used.
"On the screen the action hadn't progressed any further until from behind the camera came this tall, skinny guy. Looked like he'd just walked out of hillbilly heaven. Sunburned from the neck up and from the biceps down, but otherwise so white you had to think he'd never seen the sun.
"Joe continued the running commentary. 'That's a guy I work with,' he said. 'And wait until you see the fucking prick on him,'
"This wasn't the most fun way of spending an evening, and already I was starting to regret that I'd already put my money down for the hunting trip.
"The action on the screen did get a little hotter, though. The hillbilly did have a cock that would have put a mule to shame and he certainly did know how to use it.
"First, Joe's wife scrambled up on her knees and crawled across the bed where the dude was standing with his hands on his hips, waiting for her. His cock was half hard, hanging down damned near past mid-thigh. Mrs. Joe didn't waste a second. She started gobbling on that length of hose. I think the guy liked what she was doing, because that thing he was sporting got even longer, and when it was all the way hard, it was all the lady could do to take a third of it.
"The guy seemed to have only one thing on his mind, namely to get that thing of his in a hole. He pushed her mouth away from him and got her on the bed. She spread again and it was like looking down a well.
"As soon as she was in position the hillbilly climbed on top of her and without any preliminaries he stuck that thing deep inside her. All the way in, in two shoves. Even I cringed, and I was only watching the movie.
"But that lady took it like the pro she must be. She just got her legs up on his shoulders and let him use her, and she sure did enjoy it. The look on her face was proof of that.
"I figured that was it. I mean, it was a fuck film right? A guy and a girl. Granted, the guy was huge, but so what?
"And then, surprise of surprise, what should come into range of the camera but Joe himself. And I'd thought all along that he'd been taking the film. Obviously he wasn't.
"Joe walked up to his beloved wife and stuck himself in her face. She gobbled on that. Joe grabbed her head and really started to pound it to her. It was a nice family-action shot.
"Again I thought that was it. A husband getting his jollies from using his wife's mouth and seeing her take it from a talking mule. But damn, if I wasn't wrong again.
"On the screen, Joe made a gesture with his hand, like he was beckoning somebody else into the scene.
"And sure enough, who to the wondering eyes should appear, but a second broad. Naturally.
"That's my friend's wife,' Joe announced. We all took the news in stride.
"The second lady immediately pushed Joe away from his favorite position and sat down on Joe's wife's face. Simple as that. She was facing towards her husband, and suddenly Joe was standing between the two of them. Now he was using his friend's wife's mouth. This was all getting confusing.
"That went on for a short while, until Joe decided that he wanted his marital rights, so he encouraged his buddy to vacate.
"The hillbilly pulled out without a thought about the void he was creating, but we couldn't see Joe's wife's face to see if she was disappointed or not.
"Joe took the hillbilly's place, parking his Volkswagen in his wife's three-car garage, and then, damn, after a bit of rolling around and fuzzy photography, they ended up with Joe on his back on the bed, his wife straddling him, with him imbedded in her, and her still doing whatever she was doing to the friend's wife who was now standing up and jutting herself out.
"Now came the piece de resistance. Joe's friend of the obscenely large endowment imbedded himself with little thought for comfort in Joe's wife' back door. She took it, there too, like a pro.
"The movie ended with everybody silently moaning and groaning and twisting around. A round of applause greeted the flap, flap of the spent film reel, not so much for the quality of the film as for the fact that the damned thing was finally over.
"Joe had more, but we all politely excused ourselves and beat a hasty exit. I returned to the hearth and my favorite wife and faithful dog, grateful that I wasn't a film freak.
"The following Saturday, as planned, we all met again at Joe's house. The only difference this time was that it was morning instead of night, and Joe's wife was home.
"I couldn't bring myself to look her in the eye, and I thought for sure that she wasn't aware that Joe had shown us the films, but just a few minutes after the five of us were gathered around the kitchen table having coffee, the wife comes out with a question. 'Did you enjoy the films?' she asked. We all choked on her coffee.
"The drive from Los Angeles to Wyoming, point of arrival Jackson Hole, was long, boring and disasterless. We drove, talked, slept, ate, spent the night in Ogden, and arrived in Jackson Hole about ten o'clock in the morning. We were in elk country and you could smell the elk.
"We had a small drive yet, up to a corner of private Wyoming tucked in between Grand Teton and Yellowstone parks. The land is owned by a nationally known politician whose name I can't give because he doesn't want anybody to know he's rich enough to own anything.
"I don't know why he's so shy. Everybody knows politicians are the richest people around. They get the dough somehow. I'm never able to figure out how.
"We got to the cabin Joe had arranged to rent, arriving about five o'clock in the afternoon, just in time to have a few stiff drinks and start bullshitting about the great hunting we were going to have.
"The trouble we eventually got into got started that same night.
"We thought we were totally isolated up there, but it turned out differently. It was about ten o'clock that night and we had just finished off a good meal after spending most of the time since five getting drunk. All of us were in pretty bad, or good, shape.
"All of a sudden there was a knock on the door. I was sitting closest to the door and I'll admit that the knock scared the hell out of me. Things that I don't expect always scare me.
"As soon as I got over my surprise, I stood up to answer the door. I think I made some crack as I was heading there to the effect that the 'broads were here. ' I was kidding, but when I opened the door I was partially right.
"Outside the door were two kids, and honest to God for a few seconds I thought they were Adam and Eve. One male and one female, they were both good-looking kids. The girl had this sort of wraparound thing on that did nothing to hide her considerable talents.
"The boy had hair as long as the girl's and a full beard, and all he was wearing was what looked like an old pair of jeans that had been cut off to make shorts. Both were barefoot.
"Now I don't want to give the impression that the two kids looked dirty. They didn't. In fact, if anything they were spotlessly clean, and they had an odor about them that Johnson & Johnson would have loved to get inside a deodorant can. They smelled like good health and the outdoors, which isn't a bad combination.
"What the hell. . . !' I said, completely stymied about how they got where they were and what the hell they might be doing there.
"Sorry to disturb you,' the boy said, very politely, 'but we saw the lights and we wondered if you could do us a favor. '
"I backed up from the door and gestured them to come inside. 'Hey look,' I said to the rest of the guys, 'we've got honest-to-God visitors. '
"That fact was greeted with a lot of drunken cheers, and when they caught sight of the face and body on the girl, the cheers took on an edge of out-and-out admiration and lust.
"Both of the kids took it good-naturedly. They laughed and joked with us awhile, telling us how in the hell they happened to be up there, and why the strange garb.
"Their names were Steve and Debbie and they were from Ohio. Cincinnati, Ohio. They'd been attending the University of Cincinnati, living together, and two months earlier had decided to come to Wyoming for a hiking vacation. They found the spot we all were in and fell in love with it immediately. They stayed, living like a present-day Adam and Eve.
"The favor they wanted of us was, when we got back to civilization, to mail a letter they'd written to each of their parents, telling them not to worry. They'd been expected back at school a week earlier.
"I took their letters, putting them in my suitcase and invited the two of them to sit down. I offered them a drink, which they refused, but they did take a cup of coffee.
"I was drunk enough myself to sit there and openly admire Debbie. She was a gorgeous kid. A soft, slightly rounded face, with an expression so innocent that you automatically wanted to offer to protect her for the rest of your life. The face was a child's, but the body was a woman's. Full and ripe, but yet firm. In actuality, she had a body that would have tempted an honest monk.
"The guys continued drinking the hard stuff while we talked with the kids. Some of the comments started to get a little rough. I think Joe was the one who started that shit. Who else?
"What do you do up there in the mountains?' he asked. 'I guess you just go around getting nuts to eat, then you go back to the fire and fuck. Right?'
"Steve and Debbie smiled uneasily. 'There are a million things to do,' Steve said. 'Just getting in with nature takes most of our time. Were learning to live with it. '
"That all sounded damned romantic and great for those two kids, but Joe didn't understand what they were talking about. He'd been away from his freaky wife only one or two days and already he was horny.
"But you fuck each other a lot, don't you?' he asked. We all knew he'd stay on the subject until he got his answer.
"Steve nodded and grinned. 'Yeah,' he said. 'We do that a lot. '
"Is he a good fucker?' Joe asked the girl. She shrugged and obviously would have liked to change the subject.
"I guess if one of us guys had stepped in right there and squelched the whole bit, none of what happened later would have happened at all, but none of us did. I guess we were enjoying the scene too much, especially the kids' discomfort. I don't think any of us realized what trouble it would lead us into.
"When Debbie didn't answer Joe's question, he repeated it. 'I asked if the punk is a good fucker,' he said, sounding halfway nasty.
"There are some things we don't like to talk about,' Steve said, giving what I thought was a good answer. He didn't act or sound smart-assed, he was just answering the question.
"Despite that, Joe got pissed. "'Goddamned hippies,' he said and stood up and walked over to where the booze was kept. He poured himself another healthy portion. He sat over by the window sulking like a kid. I told you he was a winner.
"The rest of us kept on talking to the kids. They were both interesting as hell. And then, I think it was Ken asked them if they wanted anything to eat. The eyes on both of them lit up. 'You had bacon and eggs for dinner, didn't you?' Steve asked. 'We could smell it for miles. Maybe if you had some extra. . . ' Ken got up and started fixing them a bacon-and-egg meal.
"While they were eating, Joe got the broomstick out of his ass and came back over. He sat down with the rest of us, watching the kids eat.
"You kids ever been in any movies?' he asked after a few minutes.
"Debbie looked up from the plate of food she was devouring. She shook her head.
"I like to make movies,' Joe added. 'Would you be interested in being in one of them?'
"Joe of course had brought his camera along.
"Steve shrugged. 'I don't know,' he said. 'What kind of movies are they?' he asked.
"Joe wasn't coy. 'Fuck movies,' he said, 'and I sure would like to get you two making the scene on film. Maybe even some of us could join in. '
"Joe was as subtle as a lighted-up billboard. Steve just grinned and looked at Debbie. You could tell he loved her. 'Nah, I don't think so,' he said. 'We kind of like to keep things like that private. '
"I'll pay you,' Joe said. His voice was thick and his words were slurred.
"Money's no good to us,' Steve said. 'There's nothing to buy up here. Thanks but no thanks. ' It was a polite response but firm. The kids definitely didn't want to be in Joe's fuck films.
"Joe wouldn't give up. 'I'll bet that little girl of yours could take cock all night and still want some more,' he said. He got up from his chair and looked like he was going straight for the girl. I think I was the one who pulled him back into his chair.
"The kids finished their meals quickly and stood up. They thanked us. I think they were in a big hurry to get away from Joe.
"I showed them to the door. 'Come on back sometime,' I said, meaning it. They were good kids. 'Joe's not like that when he's sober. We'll be here until next Saturday. '
"Both of the kids nodded and thanked us again. They sure had enjoyed those eggs and bacon. I watched as they walked off into the darkness. They seemed to know right where they were going. And they must have been healthy as hell, because they didn't seem cold at all and, believe me, it was more than a little chilly up there at night at that time of year.
"When I got back to the table, Joe was still sounding off. 'Did you see her looking around at us?' he asked. Somebody said they hadn't noticed. 'She sure was, he continued. 'Hell, I can tell when a pussy wants a good fuck. I guess that kid she's with just ain't a good fucker. She kept looking at me like she wanted some. And man, I mean to get me some of that. . . '
". . . We all got our quota of elk in three days. Do you believe that? Those damned things seemed to walk right up to all of us and just beg to be turned into steaks.
"So there we were, stuck in the middle of nowhere with three days left on the rental and nothing to shoot at. We sure as hell weren't going to shoot more elk. No use shooting anything just for the fun of killing right?
That first morning, the cards were pulled out and about eleven o'clock the booze followed. We'd brought enough booze to fix up a million snake bites.
"By noon we were all feeling no pain. By one o'clock you could have put any of us through a Chinese water torture and we would have laughed through the whole thing.
"About that time, Joe lurched to his feet.
"Fuck cards,' he said. 'I'm gonna do myself some hunting. '
"Ken asked him what he was going to hunt. Elk was the only thing open.
"Joe looked at him and sneered. 'I'm gonna hunt us up some of that pussy we saw a couple of days back. Hell, she must be really hard up for a good fuck by this time. '
"I think somebody at that point said something about leaving the kids alone, but there wasn't any force behind the statement, and Joe ignored it. He picked up his gun and stumbled out of the door. We all were so drunk we didn't even bother to think how dangerous it was to have that idiot roaming around the country with a loaded gun. He also took his camera with him. And a pint bottle.
"All I remember doing that afternoon was playing cards and drinking until I couldn't see the cards anymore, then I begged off and hit the sack for a nap. Man, was I loaded.
"A couple of hours later I woke up and damned if I didn't start drinking again. But I guess all guys make fools of themselves when they're away from their wives and families.
"I guess it was about five o'clock when we heard noise outside. It sounded like somebody shouting. Smitty got up and went to the door. Staggered to the door would be more accurate. He looked out and then looked back into the room. 'Goddamn,' he said, 'it's Joe, and he's leading those two kids back with a gun on them. '
"Smitty kept the door opened until the two kids were escorted in. The boy had a deep gash on his forehead that looked like he's been hit with a gun butt. And he was mad.
"Tell this son of a bitch to leave us alone,' he said, 'or so help me, I'll kill him. '
"That statement should have sobered us up, but it didn't. Maybe if we had tried to put an end to all that nonsense right then and there, it would have stopped. But none of us tried. I guess it was the booze working. And boredom.
"Joe was in the cabin by that time and he kept his rifle aimed at the boy's chest. He was tanked to the gills and looked more than capable of using the rifle if he didn't get his way.
"I brought 'em back with me,' he said triumphantly. 'I thought I'd let my buddies join in the fun. '
"He got the camera from around his neck and lay it on the table, all the while keeping the gun trained on Steve.
"Okay kiddies,' he said. 'It's movie time. Strip off them duds your wearing. '
"Steve was ready to put up a fight, but Debbie took his arm. 'Do what he says,' she said. 'Maybe they'll sober up, get some sense, and let us go. '
"You hear that?' Joe shouted, even more triumphant. 'You hear what the little girl just said? She wants cock so bad her mouth is watering. '
"Joe lurched to a chair and sat down heavily. The rifle stayed on Steve. 'I told you to strip down,' he said.
"I think it was at this point that my conscience got the better of me. I'd been turned on by this scene, but it was getting a little too serious. Sure I was horny from not getting any, but I sure as hell didn't want to force anything on anybody. And I guess too, that the booze had me uninhibited. But anyway, I made some comment to Joe about his stopping the kidding now. We'd all seen the joke.
"I ain't kidding,' he said, and from the tone of his voice we all knew, even the kids, that he was serious.
"Take them pants off, kid,' Joe said, gesturing with the rifle butt at Steve. 'Let's see that measly little thing you got hangin' between your legs that you can't satisfy this pretty little piece of pussy with. '
"Again Steve was ready to head right for Joe and slaughter him, but again Debbie held him back. 'Do what he says, honey,' she said. 'Then they'll leave us alone. '
"Steve looked at her, and I think more as a protection for her than anything else, he reluctantly reached up and undid the button at his waistband. The zipper was next and his pants dropped to the floor. They were the only piece of clothing he was wearing.
"Christ, look at that little dick,' Joe said, laughing uproariously. 'No wonder that little snatch is drooling at the first real thing in pants walks by. '
"Now to tell the truth the kid was a little small, but it was adequate. No monster, but I'm sure he was able to keep his girl friend happy.
"Now you cunt,' Joe said, pointing the rifle at Debbie.
"I don't know what was the matter with the rest of us. I admit that we just stood around and stared. But like I said, I guess it was the booze and the fact that we were all horny. I know that's no reason to let all that stuff happen, but it's the only reason I can think of.
"Debbie reached up and behind her and undid the snap on the halter she was wearing. She undid it, but kept her hands in front of her.
"Take your fuckin' hands down,' Joe shouted. 'I want to see your tits. '
"Slowly, reluctantly, Debbie let her hands slide down to her sides. Christ, she did have a gorgeous set of tits on her. Big and firm, and the damned things stood up all by themselves.
"I admit that my mouth started to water and I felt a funny feeling in my pants. I would have liked to get a piece of that beautiful girl, too, but. . .
"Anyway, Joe was still having his field day. 'Now get those pants off,' he told the girl. 'I want to see that slimy pussy. '
"Both of the kids, and especially Debbie, were very frightened by that time. I think they realized finally that Joe was serious and also that none of the rest of us was going to do anything to stop him.
"God, I'm ashamed of this whole damned thing.
"Debbie opened her pants and let them drop to the floor. She, too, was now totally naked. And like I said, she wasn't bad to look at. In fact, she was about the best thing I'd ever seen in person. She had one great little body.
"I was hard as a rock by that time, and I figured all the rest of the guys were equally turned on, because nobody made an effort to put a stop to anything.
"Joe again gestured with his rifle and got the kids to move over towards the nearest bunk. 'Pull that blanket down,' he ordered and Debbie reached down and did as she was told.
"Get on that bed, cunt,' Joe said. His voice was getting heavier and nastier every minute.
"Steve, what should I do?' Debbie asked. She was scared to death, and by all rights I should have felt sorry for her. But I didn't. All I wanted was for her to get up on the bed.
"Do what he says, baby,' Steve said. I don't think he answered that way from cowardice; I think he realized if that if they didn't do what Joe wanted, the idiot was capable of killing them. I think he was right.
"At Steve's bidding, Debbie got on the bed on her back. God she looked so damned tempting there on that bed that I damned near shot off in my pants. I was as bad as Joe. She lay there board-stiff.
"Okay, kid,' Joe said. 'Get that little prick of yours hard. You're gonna fuck her while I take some pictures. And maybe I can give you some pointers, so she ain't sniffin' around for more cock. '
"Anger flushed into Steve's face for a second but he controlled himself. He stood there, still not moving.
"Joe, at that point, wasn't above threatening anybody. For a second he aimed the rifle at Ken, who was standing closest to him, and told him to pick up the camera and start filming. Ken, too, did what he was told.
"Okay kid,' Joe said, turning the rifle back on Steve, 'I told you what to do. Do it. ' Joe then picked up a bottle of whiskey that was on the table and took a deep drink.
"Steve moved to the bed and got in next to Debbie. The way they were lying there, Steve was protecting her body.
"Get on top of her, I said,' Joe shouted. Steve moved to the top of Debbie's body.
"Under the circumstances, I don't know how he did it, but after a few seconds, at Joe's orders, of rubbing against her, Steve got hard.
He had to boost himself up to show Joe that it was hard. Ken was getting the whole thing on film.
"Okay, boy, Joe said, 'now stick it in her and fuck her. '
"Steve looked wildly around the room. 'Why don't you guys do something?' he said. He sounded frantic. I'm embarrassed to say that none of us said or did anything at all.
"Joe repeated his order, and when Steve saw that he wasn't going to get any help, he moved between Debbie's legs.
"Lift up those legs to your shoulders,' Joe ordered. 'We want to see you stick it in her,'
"Steve did as he was told. He got Debbie's legs up on his shoulders. I heard him say to her quietly, 'I'm sorry baby. '
"Now stick it in her cunt,' Joe said. I looked at his face. For the moment he was insane.
"Steve moved up towards her and we all stared as he disappeared into her. He had gotten to a more than respectable size when he was hard. It slid in, all the way. Debbie didn't make a sound.
"Fuck her, asshole,' Joe shouted, and Steve started moving against her. I have to admit that it was a beautiful sight, and a real turn-on.
"Long-dick her,' Joe shouted, 'Pull it almost all the way out and then ram it inside her. '
"Steve looked at Joe. I've never seen so much hate and disgust on anybody's face. But to be honest, I didn't give a damn. I just wanted this show to continue. This whole thing had turned us all into animals.
"Maul her tits a little when you fuck her,' Joe said. 'Broads like to have their tits mauled. And I want to hear a little noise out of you little girl. Enjoy this damned thing. '
"I don't know if what Joe had said made the girl start to respond or whether it was what her boyfriend was doing to her, but Debbie started to moan a little. Then she started to move against Steve, pressing up against him every time he lunged against her.
"Her low moans turned to deep groans as Steve began to really pound into her. He leaned down over her, pulling her up to him until the two of them were as close together as they could have possibly been.
"He moved into her with strong but short strokes. Now I knew she wasn't acting; she was enjoying the sex. She moved her body like she'd been born to the bed.
"I was completely turned on. I was hard as a rock inside my pants, and it got to the point where I had to get some relief. I pulled myself out. That was all the urging the rest of the guys needed. In seconds, all except Ken, who was too busy filming, and Joe had exposed themselves and were working away.
"Get her on her knees,' Joe shouted. 'Get her on her knees and fuck her like a goddamned dog. '
"I honest to God think the kids were turned on then by the scene. Steve pulled out of her for a second, and he was hard as stone. He helped her move around until she was on her knees, with her rear end stuck up in the air, open to the world. God she looked sexy.
"Steve got on the floor and, in full view of all of us, he pressed hard against her from the back. He took hold of her hips and lunged against her. Debbie let out a groan of pleasure.
"It was no holds barred from then on. Steve didn't need any more directions. He probably wouldn't have been able to hear them if they'd been given. Debbie was making too much noise.
"The scene lasted maybe ten minutes, which, considering the circumstances, was pretty good. Finally Steve groaned extra load and pressed himself deep inside her. He hesitated, breaking the rhythm of his strokes. Then he pounded at her with frantic strokes.
"From the moving she was doing and the sounds she was making, Debbie got off, too. It was probably the wildest thing I'd ever seen in my life. And a complete turn-on. I was so hot by the time they finished, I think I would have fallen in love with a hole in a tree.
"I guess we all figured it was over. Joe, and us too, had, had our jollies. We expected Joe to let the kids go. But he had more and different ideas.
"He looked at me. 'I saw a piece of rope in the camper,' he said. 'Go get it. '
"I think I made some sort of protest, but when he aimed the rifle at me, I chickened out and went outside and got the rope. Discretion took the total place of valor.
"I brought the rope in. Joe looked at me and laughed. He sounded nutty as a fruitcake and he was still drinking from the bottle. He had to pass out soon.
"Tie him to a chair,' Joe said to me. He nodded at Steve.
"What for?' I remember asking.
"Don't ask questions,' Joe said sharply. 'Just do it. '
"I did it.
"I tied Steve's hands together behind his back then stretched the rope down and tied his ankles. Then I got him into a chair and tied him to that.
"Face him towards the bed,' Joe said.
"I moved the chair.
"Now he's gonna watch his girl friend really get fucked,' Joe said. He was in seventh heaven.
"There was a muffled protest from the bed when Debbie caught the implication of what Joe was saying, but that was all the fuss she made. I don't know what her motivation was, but she didn't try to get up and run away or anything. She just lay there like a corpse.
"Joe looked lazily around the room. His vision fell and stayed on Ken. 'Put that stupid shit camera down,' Joe said, 'and get over there and fuck her. '
"Ken was silent for a few seconds. 'Ah, no Joe,' he said finally. 'I never did like sloppy seconds. '
"FUCK HER!' Joe shouted, and he meant it.
"Ken got out of his clothes in record time. He was stiff. He walked to the girl and stood over her, looking down. She turned her head away from him.
"I'll kill you if you do it,' Steve shouted from the chair.
"Put a gag on that asshole,' Joe ordered. I got up and did as he said. Damn, this is all hard to talk about. So goddamned shameful.
"You would have to be a dead man not to be turned on by Debbie, and Ken wasn't a dead man. He got on top of her and put himself in her. He told her to wrap her legs around his waist. When she didn't move, he reached down and slapped her. I didn't believe he would do that, but he did. It was really rape now.
"He must have hurt her, because she started to cry. But she also did what she was told and wrapped her legs around Ken. He started to move against her, really hard and wild.
"Debbie was making no noise at all, and Steve was going through agony. I saw him at one point close his eyes, to try to blot the sight out, but he couldn't keep them closed long.
"Ken finished up in just a minute or two. I admit that I was next in line, and I'll also admit that at that time I was anxious to get my share. I was so damned horny, and when a person's horny he'll do things he ordinarily wouldn't do. I realize that's no excuse though.
"I got up on the bed between her legs. 'Fuck her good Artie,' I heard a voice say behind me. But it wasn't Joe, it was Smitty. He had got into the spirit of the rape.
"Just touching her was like touching fire. She was that hot. I looked down at her. She wouldn't look at me. I reached down and moved her face until she either had to look at me or else close her eyes. She looked at me. 'Please stop,' she said. It only made me hotter.
"All of us had her that afternoon. All of us that is, except Joe. He was so tanked he couldn't have gotten hard if somebody had put a thousand dollar bill in front of his face.
"When the first round was over, we broke out more booze and started another party. Steve was kept tied to the chair. Debbie was kept for our future pleasure.
"It turned out that Joe didn't have to use his rifle anymore. He didn't have to give orders. We all agreed that we'd use the girl as long as we were up there.
"We kept her busy for the last three days of the trip. Guys would get up in the middle of the night and go to where we now had her tied. They'd take the ropes off and just get on top of her, or get her to get on her knees and then just use her. It was strictly animalistic.
"She soon gave up trying to get any of us to help her. She knew that she and her boyfriend were at our mercy until we either got tired of them or left.
"We left both of them tied when we took off. I know they got loose. They had to. But I've been worried ever since, and every time the doorbell rings, or the phone, I'm sure it'll be Steve, either with a gun or the police. "
Artie's behavior illustrates a factor that is present very frequently in situations where a group commits the act of rape: there is almost always a leader whose actions arouse and incite the others to behave similarly. The secondary participants would not normally commit rape, but under the special circumstances of the group situation, where the leader establishes some kind of dominance over the other participants, their normal behavioral standards fail to prevail.
It is not necessary for the other members of the group to like or respect the leader, and indeed, in Artie's case, he openly and frankly despises Joe. However, Joe's behavior, as a kind of simulacrum for Artie and the others, gives them all a chance to let go of ordinary inhibitions without taking full responsibility for their actions. In a great many group rape situations, that failure to take personal responsibility is the key factor in the behavior of most of the participants.
Obviously, for Joe, his own personality provides him with an attitude towards others which can be defined as "criminal," and which can be examined in the light of his behavior as "criminally motivated. " A precise definition of "crime" is given by Leon J. Saul in The Hostile Mind:As for what crime is, throughout or discussion, we treat crime in the biological sense of injury to life and the living, particularly human life and human living. By injury, we mean not only bodily damage, mild or murderous, but anything which impairs development and adjustment, individual liberty and happiness. An injury is thus considered criminal if widespread perpetration of it would threaten the foundations and functions of society. Obviously the behavior of the men in the hunting party is criminal, in that the young victimized couple are held prisoner against their will and forced into acts which violate their privacy, threaten their liberty, and impair their development as individuals. If this practice were widespread, obviously the entire foundation of society would be intolerably undermined, and therefore Joe can be termed a criminal.
There are some additional qualities of the rapists' acts which need to be examined in order to determine their responsibility. Saul in The Hostile Mind provides us with additional material which can be used to examine Joe and his confederates:Of course, the quantitative factor is of great importance here. Not every inconvenience which someone imposes upon us need be called a crime; essentially we are seeking for the quality which can be isolated and properly described as criminal. This quality seems to be an inner, psychological one, a mechanism which conceivably can and perhaps does exist in quantitatively different degrees in everyone. Its essence is an individual's acceptance in his ego of sufficient hostility for him to act it out with relative freedom against other human beings for selfish personal purposes. In acting out his own hostilities, Joe is the most apparently criminal of the group. However, it is important to realize that this quality of hostility must be present in each of the men in order for each individual to participate in the rape and exploitation of the young couple without seriously balking. It is the presence of hostility in each of them that allows the situation to develop.
Artie blames it on various things, such as booze, boredom, and sexual deprivation, all of which are entirely spurious failures to recognize the truth of the situation. If Artie himself had not been sufficiently hostile to have responded in the first place to the sight of a young girl being victimized, he would not have allowed the situation to get out of control. This is true for each of the participants, despite what their individual denials may be. It is all the more true for Artie, since he shows some tendency to introspection and analysis, and yet fails to go far enough in his self-examination to uncover this aspect of his own personality.
This is another factor which is often present in these situations: the failure of the secondary rapists to see that their own hostility has allowed them to respond to the situation their leader created. Recognizing that Joe's initial act of aggression was responsible for setting up the situation is not enough. If it had not been for the aggressive hostility present in each man, the situation would never have continued. They are all responsible, and Artie realizes this, although he does not seem to realize why.
The presence of hostility as a motivation for rape is substantiated by the comments of Gladys Denny Shultz in How Many More VictimsThe illness of the otherwise normal men who force sex relations on women unknown to them and maul - sometimes kill - is a sickness of hate - hate of the female. Their sex instincts have become twisted and perverted by this hatred to such a degree that the protectiveness toward the self-respecting female which is inherent in decent, civilized men has turned to a desire to ravish and degrade, not for the sake of sex gratification - many derive no sex satisfaction from these forced relations - but from a desire to avenge themselves on the female sex. For Joe, the leader, this is particularly obvious in his exploitive, twisted relationship with his wife, and Artie is aware of this aspect of Joe's personality even before they leave on the hunting trip. For the others, hatred of the female is less apparent, and hostility is a less all-encompassing motive. However, its existence to some degree in each of them cannot be denied.
Artie's remorse over his own behavior indicates that for him, hostility is perhaps a minor factor in his makeup. He is able to recognize that their treatment of the young couple was wrong, and he is able to admit his own partial responsibility for the episode. However, the situation might have been an opportunity for Artie to understand an aspect of his own personality that he is now not able to understand due to his failure to recognize what importance his own hostility played in his going along with the situation engineered by Joe.
For Artie, it does not appear that a recurrence of this kind of behavior is too likely. Although he enjoyed it, it seems to be fairly removed from his normal mode of sexual expression and not likely to become a pattern.
Chapter Three
Beach Party"Growing up in the country is supposed to be very different from growing up in the city, but I don't think it's all that different. People are people, after all.
"It might be easier to make friends in the country. Maybe there's the difference. You're thrown together with other kids on the school bus, and you get involved with others through church and Sunday school, and you can't help making friends with a few people, I guess.
"With me, I guess, it had something to do with being pretty. At least, I was always told I was. On the one hand it made people notice me. On the other it kind of made some people, some boys, I mean, stand off from me when I would have liked to have got to know them better. That cleared the way for the guys who weren't so shy. And that led to my getting to know about sex a lot earlier in life than I should have.
"For one thing, it made me stand for a lot that I shouldn't have permitted. Some people got away with murder, but I let them because, pretty as I seemed to be, I was lonely. Another thing I'd had to learn was how to be self-sufficient, spending as much time alone as I did. And when I did finally get together with boys, I did as much as I pleased. Nobody cared, you see. Nobody noticed. Mind you, I may have been kind of dumb about it. I mean, to me it all seemed kind of tame, but I'm sure it wouldn't have sounded that way if I'd tried to tell people about it.
"I got started off by the two kids next door. Lynn was a year older than I was and her brother Tommy was a year older than she was. She was the real influence. You couldn't help noticing her. She was a cute little blonde with long straight hair and big blue eyes. She had a smarty-pants bitchy sort of smile that stuck in your memory, like she knew something nobody else knew, and it made everybody - teachers, boys, other girls like me - pay attention to her. And believe me, she didn't mind that any.
"Tommy? He was nice enough, so far as I knew, but was real quiet, and he seemed to be kind of passive around his sister. I mean, she bossed him around a lot and he didn't seem to mind. In fact, I think he enjoyed it.
"They lived next door, though - on the next farm is what I mean, and that's a lot more distance than 'next door' would mean in to a city kid - for quite awhile before I met them. I had plenty of time to myself before that, and I made the most of it in my solitary way.
"My father worked long, hard hours, and always came home tired; but he always had time for me. Too much to please my mother, once I'd started sprouting a bit. He'd grab me, whenever he got the chance, and hug me and squeeze me and say funny little things to me about how pretty I was getting to be, and my mother would give him a funny look and say, 'She's growing up Frank,' and raise one eyebrow. It took him awhile to get the message; then he stopped being so affectionate. I didn't notice anything but the loss of affection. I was a little dumb about that, too, I guess.
"I wasn't dumb, though, about that little button between my legs, and I was already doing a lot of fooling around with it. Some girls I later learned, don't make much juice down there. I sure did. I'd go ape when I came, and I'd make buckets of juice. I learned not to do it in the bedroom unless I had a thick towel under me and plenty of time and privacy. For that the best place was the shower. I'd really let go there.
"This was in rural Pennsylvania, now. Work was long and hard, and sometimes the bills would get out of hand and my mother would get a job in town for a while. That - combined with the fact that my father would often take his lunchbox and eat in the fields to keep from losing any valuable work time - left me alone a lot.
"And I didn't have that much to do: clean up a bit, dust some, and that was it. I'd get up early and get everyone off to work, summers, and then the day would be mine. I'd look forward to it, and I'd already be thinking sexy thoughts by the time they were going out the door.
"Then I'd take off all my clothes and go into the shower and start playing with my little clam. I'd pretend that my hand was the hand of a nice looking rich guy who was crazy about me and wanted to marry me and make me happy, like that. Then I'd rub my clit like crazy and push my finger inside and finger myself like mad until I would start in with the big, convulsive orgasms, and I'd be wet and dripping by the time I got the fires out. Then I'd get myself cleaned up in the crotch and do some work and I'd start thinking about boys. And some of them in school were real cute, and thinking about that would turn me on all over again. And I'd do more.
"So, maybe you'd say I was ripe when I started fooling around with Lynn and Tommy. We would talk and kid around on the school bus because we were the last ones on the bus. The driver would let us out, the other kids first, then me, and that was the end of the run for the driver.
"Lynn invited me to come over and visit with them whenever I could. She said that we could have lots of fun. They had horses that were work horses, but they were fine for riding, too.
"Tommy is crazy about you, Sheila,' Lynn said, her big blue eyes teasing me. 'He thinks you are so pretty. He's always telling me about it. '
"Tommy was right beside her when she said that; we were walking the short road we had to hike after the bus let us out, and I looked at Tommy and his face got red.
"I like Tommy too,' I said. That made it all right, I thought. Lynn looked at me with a funny, sort of schemy look, and she grinned at me.
"That's just great,' she said. 'We'll have to do something about that. '
"I went home after that and got to thinking about Tommy and how nice he was, how good looking, and that got me turned on and I went into the bathroom and started putting my fires out.
"Lynn asked me to come over on Saturday if I could get away. She wanted to have a picnic. We would take horses and ride out into the woods to a special place they had, a cave, really, beside a brook and we would have our picnic and have some fun. That was fine with me.
"My parents were glad that I had some nice friends and they were happy for me to go on the picnic. So, on Saturday morning I got into an old pair of jeans and a blouse and I was ready. I didn't wear a bra, and my boobs stuck out like they were bullets, ready to shoot somebody down. I was proud of my boobs and I had real pretties on my chest. Maybe I had it in mind to turn Tommy on a little, I don't know; but it sure worked out that way.
"The horses were saddled and ready for us by the time I got to Lynn's place. I had my lunch box and they had theirs and we got up onto the horses and started out. Kids in the country ride horses like they grew on them, so we just took it nice and easy. Lynn wore a loose skirt and boots and I watched her the way she was sitting in the saddle and Tommy noticed that I was watching her. He rode beside me and he grinned as we both watched Lynn riding ahead of us a little.
"She's rubbing her clit that way and she gets a lot of fun out of it. Don't you do the same thing?' He smiled at me.
"I know I got red in the face and I didn't answer him. He was looking at me with that funny little grin on his face and I wished that he would stop looking at me and go on about his business. He didn't, but after awhile the woods got thick and we had to ride single file, so I didn't have to face his grin.
"We rode for a long time but we finally came out of the woods, and there was a clearing, with all kinds of shade trees and a brook, and beyond the brook there was a big hill and a cave had been dug out beneath it.
"We tethered the horses in a nice shady spot and they were close to the brook so they could drink whenever they wanted to and after that was attended to I helped Lynn unwrap the pack-roll she had brought. She had everything in her saddlebags, a portable radio and cigarettes and a hairbrush, and junk like that. She even brought a box of tissues. Tommy helped us and we sat down in the shade and Lynn got out the cigarettes and offered one to me. Tommy helped himself. We rested and smoked and Lynn kept looking at me in that funny way I mentioned before and I noticed that Tommy was staring at my chest and I suddenly wished that I hadn't been so damned smart. I wished that I had worn a bra.
"Lynn finished her cigarette after awhile and tossed the butt into a little branch of the brook. She looked at me and she got up onto her knees. Tommy was watching us and I was not at all prepared for what she did.
"You should have worn a bra, Sheila,' she said.
"She put her hands on the bottom of my shirt and she lifted it right up and then she and Tommy were staring at my bare breasts and I was so shocked, I just didn't do anything. Then I pushed my shirt down again and she laughed at me.
"You have beautiful tits, Sheila,' she said. 'Tommy and I are going to have lots of fun with them today. You do want Tommy to play with your tits, don't you?'
"I guess I just stared at her with a dumb look on my face and she seemed to think that it was very funny. She put her hands on my breasts and I liked her touch and I hated it. She was looking right into my eyes, sort of daring me to object. I was sitting up with my back against the tree's trunk and the way she was in front of me there was no place for me to go. She lifted my shirt up again and her hands cupped my breasts, and I wanted to stop her; but I was just staring at Tommy with a dumb look on my face and when she bent so that she could kiss each of my nipples. I shivered and I started getting wet downstairs. She seemed to know that I was turning on, and turned so that she could look at Tommy.
"He came over to kneel down in front of me, too, and he was shaking a little.
"Go ahead,' Lynn told him. 'You have been dying to play with her tits. I told you all you had to do was ask. '
"Tommy was grinning at me, and he was very nervous; but he put his hands on my breasts and began caressing them and really having a good time for himself. Lynn watched him for a moment and she was smiling; I could see that she really liked Tommy in spite of the fact that he was her brother. I watched her begin to open his pants, and he just let her do whatever she wanted to do. She unbuckled his belt, and then she was inside, and his big stiff dick was standing straight up and she was handling it just like she knew what she was doing.
"I could see that he had been circumcised, and he was dribbling, and when she wrapped her fist around him and began moving her hand up and down, I creamed my jeans right then and there. Lynn grinned at me as she saw it happen. She didn't have to guess. All she had to do was watch me shiver and shake as my head went haywire. He was still handling my boobs, and I heard Lynn telling him that he could suck my tits for awhile and she would help him. She bent down and took his organ into her mouth and started sliding him in and out, with her cheeks all sucked in and her hands cupping his balls. I noticed then that she had long sharp fingernails and they were clawing at his rod. I could tell he didn't mind.
"I felt his wet mouth on my breasts; then he was sucking one of my nipples and I was freaked out. I kept watching Lynn and then Tommy was shaking violently and he was biting my nipple and I liked it. Then I saw that he was coming, and Lynn was swallowing his juice like she was starving for it. One of her hands was clutching his rod with her fingertips and she was milking him, making sure she got it all. She slid him out of her mouth after awhile and she smiled at me with a happy, dreamy look.
"She took my hand and put it on Tommy's big dick and I liked holding it. I began moving my hand up and down on it automatically, and he was whimpering and groaning and kissing and licking my tits, and it was getting more and more exciting by the minute.
"Let's go inside the cave,' Lynn said. 'Then we can really have some fun. '
"Tommy stopped licking and sucking my titties and she took my hand off of him and I hated to have him let go. She just laughed and told me that I would get lots of cock once we got inside the cave. Just wait, she said.
"We got our stuff together and picked up the blanket and extras, and we carried it all into the cave. There was a big open area in there and while the opening was screened off, it was as bright inside the cave as outside.
"Tommy was grinning like a happy idiot as we spread the blanket and put our stuff down on it. Lynn got the radio going and the music was nice. She smiled at me as we put our butts down onto the blanket. Tommy was staring at me and I was staring at him.
"Take your things off, Tommy,' Lynn said. It was a direct command, and he obeyed her. She gave me a cigarette and we both lit up. She kept on looking at me and I was looking at Tommy as he took his clothes off. He was just wearing a pullover shirt and jeans and sandals. No underwear, no socks. He took his pants off and we both looked at his big stiff cock standing up tight against his belly. His balls were hanging down and Lynn got onto her knees and she cupped his balls in the palm of her right hand and she told him to sit down so that we could handle his stuff as much as we wanted to. She turned to smile at me.
"I'll bet you never had the chance to play with a lovely cock before did you?' she asked.
"I was just too turned on to answer her. I shook my head and she giggled.
"Tommy wants to play with you,' she said. 'Did you ever have a boy eat you?'
"I shook my head again. I was shivering, just thinking about the things that she was saying. The idea of Tommy licking me between my legs was just too much, and I popped again. It seemed to me that the pops just kept coming, one right after the other.
"Sheila, honey,' Lynn said, 'do you want to have some fun?'
"I nodded my head. There wasn't anything else for me to do. I was seething and coming, and I knew I was sopping between my legs, and I wondered if I could get a chance to clean myself up before Tommy put his mouth down there.
"Lynn began helping me to slide out of my jeans and it shocked me when she started playing with my clit. She seemed surprised to discover how wet I was.
"Sheila darling,' she said, 'you are a mess down there, let me clean you up dear. '
"Somehow I was on my back on the blanket and Tommy was pushing his cock into my mouth and Lynn was beginning to lick my thighs and crotch. Then she slipped her tongue into my bunghole and that made me come, and when I was really putting out and going out of my skull with a wild orgasm, she suddenly slid her tongue up and teased my clit and then I started a convulsion that was wilder and nicer than anything I had ever known. She was feasting on my juices, and I could feel her hungry mouth sucking savagely at my flesh and it was real crazy. Tommy was sliding his cock in and out and then pushed it halfway down my throat and he was erupting, pouring his honey into my throat, and I just feasted upon him while Lynn made me come again and again. It just got to be too much, and my head went into limbo or something and I guess I flaked out.
"After a while I got my brains back and I sat up and Tommy and Lynn were sitting on the blanket, smoking cigarettes and having hot coffee from the thermos that Lynn had brought. She smiled at me when she saw that I was back among the living. She poured some coffee for me and handed the cup to me. I took it and sipped it. She was smiling and I could see that she liked me, and that was very important to me. I wanted them both to like me.
"You had yourself a hell of a time honey,' Lynn said. 'I guess we don't have to ask you anything do we?'
"My face was scarlet but she just laughed at me.
"Tommy and I started fooling around a long time ago,' she said. 'Lots of kids are doing it. I found that I like sex, no matter what. Anything. '
"She even likes to jerk off Rex,' Tommy said, smiling.
"That's right,' Lynn said, 'like I said, anything. But, Tommy likes everything too. Shall we really have some fun?'
"I was ready and she laughed at me. She still had her clothes on and Tommy and I were naked. She had her purse on the blanket beside her and she took out a small flat box and opened it. There were a lot of rubbers in the box. She took one out and put it on the tip of Tommy's cock. She rolled it down and I watched it all fascinated.
"Ol' John, the field hand, got the rubbers for her,' Tommy said. 'She used to let him take her into the barn and fuck her and she'd let me watch it all from the haymow. '
"It was the only way I could get these little babies. Lie down, Sheila, and let Tommy fuck you while I get undressed. Then he can do me. '
"Tommy was sure eager to have me, and I was eager for it too. He knelt and pushed me down onto my back. I was panting and squirming and bouncing around on the blanket. I don't know how he ever got it into me, but he did. He was my first, and I was so afraid that it would hurt; but he put the head of it against my hole and he began to ease himself into me. I had long ago busted my cherry with carrots and the handle of my favorite hairbrush, though, and when I felt him beginning to get inside me, I moved my hips and damn near swallowed him, balls and all. And then we really went ape. I started bucking and writhing and screeching and my legs were wrapped around his middle, and it was really heavy for a while.
"Lynn was just as gooney about sex as I was, apparently. I knew that I was very wet down there. We were screwing like a couple of excited minks. But Sheila had her mouth down under Tommy's balls and her tongue was licking my asshole and the area between that and Tommy's dick, and she was licking my cunny too. Her hands and nails were all over. . . and then I was coming again, heaving about like a frightened steer, and then Tommy was coming, too, and we went out of our skulls with bliss. At least, I know I did.
"Tommy clung to me and I clung to him, and after a while Lynn stopped licking me down there; I realized that Tommy had gotten out of me and she had him and the rubber and all in her mouth and she was really half out of her skull with erotic excitement. She was very straightforward about sex and she enjoyed it all, and when she finally let go of Tommy's dick I could see that she had torn the rubber to shreds.
"We took a rest and Lynn got up onto her feet so that she could get out of her clothes. She had a gorgeous body and she knew it. Her boobs were much larger than mine and when I admired them she laughed and said that she was always nursing on Tommy and that made her boobs grow. She was convinced that the male product was very good for young girls, and I wasn't about to argue with her. I knew that I liked nursing on Tommy, too.
"I had never seen another girl's privates before, so when Lynn sat down and opened her legs and started playing with Tommy, I looked at her to my heart's content. She was made little between her legs: tiny little pink lips and a puckered little rosebud between them. Her clit looked like a little round nipple from a girl's tit, only it was swollen and red, and she would rub it a little every once in a while. Then, when she told Tommy to eat her for a while, he spent a lot of time rubbing her clit with his tongue. She liked that kind of fooling around, believe me. And I did, too. Tommy was really good when it came to eating a girl, and he took turns delighting both of us.
"We kept trying one thing after another on that day and we spent the whole day inside the cave, fooling around. Tommy got on top of Lynn and he screwed the ears off of her and then he did it to me, too. Lynn was always eating me or eating Tommy and she asked me if I would sixty-nine, but I just couldn't go that. She didn't mind too much because Tommy loved having sixty-nines with her.
"I liked it, too, when he would let me sit on his face and he would slide his tongue way up in me. I have to admit that we had a grand time that day, and when we finally went home you might say we were pretty well acquainted with each other. We were exhausted, too; Tommy and Lynn believed in getting in all the sex you could.
"We kept it up later. I was kind of getting jealous of Lynn for a while because she and Tommy were so close. But she finally found a guy in school who knew how to turn her on, and she let him. Lots. That left Tommy and me to ourselves, and we were always at each other.
"All that ended after about a year, though, because my folks got tired of fighting the soil and wanted a new start. My mother wanted to move to California, and that's what we did.
"I'll never forget my last day in the woods with Tommy. I mean we did everything. Everything we could think of, anyhow. And maybe all the experience I'd had that year made it easier for me to live through what happened later, on the Coast. . .
"After a lot of haggling, though, my folks finally sold the farm, and the haggling must have done some good because we got a good price, more money than we'd ever had at one time in our lives.
"Moving was a wrench, and it was only fun for a week or so living out of a suitcase. It took us a while to settle, but when we did we sort of knew it was a change for the better. My father found work up near Ventura, and that allowed us to settle near the beaches and soak up some of that nice sun. We found a place between Oxnard and Malibu, not too long a drive from where my father worked.
"So, wow! I became a real beach bunny that first summer, with all that time on my hands. I'd spend days and days soaking up the sun and swimming, and I got a real nice tan from it and if I do say so myself I really got my body in nice shape.
"Spending so much time on the beach, I was bound to meet new people, and I did. There were these guys who used to surf in our section of the beach where the waves were good, and I got to know them somewhat, little by little. There were three of them at first; then a few others joined them now and then. They'd hang out around my beach blanket, kidding me about what a nice bod I had. They wouldn't believe I was only fifteen, and I kind of forgot it myself.
"There was this guy Ernie, a mean-faced sort who always wore boxer trunks to the beach. This one morning he showed up in a launch. That's how it all started. He anchored it offshore and I swam in. I was on my blanket talking with some of the others when he showed up.
"Johnny, a short guy with glasses (he had a big bulge in his crotch, incidentally, that I thought had to be padding-how wrong I was!), asked Ernie about the boat. Ernie said he'd borrowed it for the day, and how would we all like to take a boat ride?
"I said sure. They all sort of laughed at my eagerness, but the upshot was that we all swam out to the boat. It was a lot of fun for a while; I took the wheel a couple of times, and it was exciting but scary. There were five guys in the boat and I was the only girl. And I was stupid enough to like those odds.
"We all took the boat way the hell up the coast until we finally stopped in a cove. Ernie said that a friend of his owned the house on the beach and we could go in and visit and he'd see if we could promote some breakfast. That sounded all right, so we all dove off the boat and began swimming.
"There was no one in the house, we learned when we got there. It was a nice place, well furnished and we settled in the kitchen and Ernie made us a pot of coffee. Then Ernie told the guys to sit down at the table and he would get the deck of cards. I wondered why they would want to play cards so early in the morning. They weren't going to play cards. They were cutting the cards.
"For me. Only I didn't know it at the time.
"They each took a card and put it facedown on the table, then they turned them over. Kenny, a skinny guy with a funny looking twist to his face all the time had an ace. Ernie, the guy with the boat, had a jack. He grinned when he saw that. Johnny, the little guy with the glasses and the big crotch bunch, had a ten. Sam, a skinny little creep who was very quiet and awfully intense about everything, had a nine, and Ronnie, a big guy with muscles bulging out everywhere, had a six. They were all laughing and joking and then Ernie said, 'Let's get started,' and he stood up.
"I was sitting at the table watching it all, and when Ernie put his hand on my wrist I stared at him like he was out of his skull. Like who the hell did he think he was handling?
"He pulled me up onto my feet and Kenny was standing up, too, his twisty face wearing a grin that was lopsided and sort of mean. Ernie was holding my wrist like it was in a vise, and he was hurting me.
"Come on, baby,' he said. 'You got some work to do in the bedroom. Kenny has the hots for you. He's going to fuck you, and then the other guys are, too. You know, that's what it was all about the cards. You get me after Kenny. Now come along and don't give us any trouble. '
"It took a minute for me to realize that Ernie meant what he said. I was standing there in a swimsuit that hid nothing, and when Ronnie reached out and tore my halter off, my tits jumped out like they were eager to be used. Ronnie's big hands tore my bikini pants off and I was standing there, stark naked, and they were all looking at me and I knew that I was going to die.
"Ernie pulled me along with him and I tried to hold back. I lost my head and began to scream and somebody hit me in the face and somebody else yelled out that they should hit me in the belly if they wanted to hurt me; it wouldn't show there.
"They picked me up and carried me into the bedroom and there was a four-poster bed and one guy tied one ankle to a post, another guy tied another ankle to a post and as soon as that was done, the creep Kenny, put his face between my legs and began licking me, and I started writhing and sobbing and moaning. Then they tied my wrists to the other posts, and I lay there spread-eagled on the bed, at their mercy like a trussed-up duck.
"Somebody said something to Kenny and he took his mouth off of my clit and he just laughed. He shucked his pants off and I could see he was built big where it counted. I was sopping wet down below already, and that was a good thing. Kenny climbed onto the bed and he shoved his cock into me and I was weeping and sobbing and yelling and he was shoving himself into me like a machine. He started to gasp; then he was shaking and whinnying like a horse, and then he started coming, and it felt like he was never going to stop spurting in me. He was slowing down and he finally pulled his cock out and I was supposed to be in agony, maybe-but I wasn't. Not at all.
"Ernie stood beside the bed and he had his boxer shorts off and his cock was stiff and ready. He was looking at my cute little biscuit and he was not happy.
"Damn you, Kenny,' he complained, 'you made a hell of a mess. I ain't going to put my cock into your mess. I don't like slop. '
"Johnny said, 'Don't Terry have anything we can rinse her twat out with?'
"I didn't know who the hell Terry was, but I could understand the problem. Ernie went off to the bathroom next to the room I was in and he came back with a vaginal syringe, the bulb kind. He got a washbasin and they lifted my hips up so that it was under me, then they put the nozzle of the syringe into me and washed me out. Then Ernie got on and screwed me, too. It was decided that each man would clean up his own mess. One by one they took their turn at me. Johnny was third, and when he took his trunks off, I could see he was not at all padded. He was a little guy, but he was built like a bull, and I was sure that he was going to tear me all to hell with his enormous rod. But he didn't. It was fine with him.
"Sam, the weirdo with the intense, brooding look in his eyes, climbed on top of me and I knew right away that he was the one to watch. He was crazy. He got his cock into me and he started moving back and forth and he was having a good time. The others went out into the kitchen to have some coffee and they had already had their turn, except for Ronnie, the mastodon. They didn't enjoy watching it all that much, I guess. Anyway, Sam started fucking like crazy and he was slobbering all over my boobs and he got the nipple into his mouth and he bit down and I let out a scream that could have been heard in Brooklyn, N. Y. That was what he was after, and as soon as I yelled in pain, he started coming, and he really poured the juice into me.
"When I screamed, the guys in the kitchen laughed. I heard somebody saying that Sam was having him a time. When Sam finally finished up, he got the basin and the syringe and he rinsed me out. His leer as he went off with the basin made me glad that the other guys were there.
"I was scared, and I was sure that they were going to have fun with me until they got tired of it, then kill me, and my folks would never know what had happened to me.
"Ronnie came into the bedroom to take his turn, and I worried about him too. He was a big man, tall, heavy, bulging with muscles, but he had a little boy's cock between his legs. It was hard and about as big as my finger. He climbed on top of me and started screwing me, but it was a big nothing and he couldn't get it off. He finally pulled it out of me and climbed up so that he was astride my boobs and he shoved into my mouth.
"Suck,' he said.
"I didn't argue. I did what he told me to do, and that did it for him. He popped, and he damn dear drowned me. He wasn't very big in the cock department, but once he started coming he really poured. . . and I had to cope with it somehow.
"He finally got off of me and I laid on the bed, crying and wishing that I was already dead. Ronnie went back into the kitchen.
"What do we do about seconds?' Sam asked. I could tell his squeaky voice easily.
"Ernie answered him. 'You ready for seconds, help yourself. That's what she's here for. '
"Ronnie stuck his head back in the room then. 'You want to take it a little easy man. You don't want to hurt her. '
"Sam gave him a disgusted snort; then he said something that scared me, and that brought Ronnie back into the room in a hurry. 'What's the dif? Were gonna croak her when were done anyway, so what's the difference?'
"Ronnie shook his head like he would love to belt Sam.
"She ain't going to die; what the hell is the matter with you? She ain't gonna holler cops. We got five guys that will say she offered. Go ahead and enjoy, but get rid of them crazy ideas. '
"I felt a thousand times better after that. I was so sure that they would dump me into the sea when they were tired of me. After all, they had kidnapped me, and they had raped me forcibly, and it was the kind of a situation that usually wound up with the girl getting killed. I was hoping that there would be a way out of this. There had to be.
"Sam was kind of gentle, for him, and he didn't last any time at all. I was glad of that. But I was having problems. I had to piss, and I knew that I couldn't take any more of them on without making things messy.
"When Sam was rinsing me out, I told him that I had to go to the bathroom. That was the wrong thing to say to him. He just smiled and said that I could just let it go, he would hold the basin and empty it for me. That was the best offer I could get and he put his face down there so he could look right into the hole as I emptied my bladder. He carried it off to the bathroom, and then I was alone again.
"And then somebody else arrived at the house and I heard female voices and I wondered what was going on. I found out in a hurry. Two very pretty young girls, not much older than I, came into the bedroom. They stood and stared at me, wide-eyed. They were very pretty girls, but their eyes were cold and cruel, and when they stood and smiled at me I felt like I was going to die for sure.
"One of them was a blonde, with very light, curly hair, cut short, and a very good figure. She was wearing shorts and a pullover shirt and her boobs were practically visible. No bra, just nice big tits and sleek young legs and a cute round behind. Her eyes were blue and they were like ice. Her name was Terry, but I found that out later.
"The other girl was a little taller. Her name was Cathy, and she was a brunette with small boobs and nice legs and a bright, twinkling smile. She looked at me and her eyes went right to my slit and I was sure that she was just dying to get at it. The other one too. Ernie wandered into the bedroom and he put his arm around the blonde's shoulder and I got the idea that she was his girl. The other went with Johnny, and I found that out later, too.
"You guys have got to be crazy,' Terry said, finally. 'I will admit that she is a gorgeous little item but she can get us all arrested and put away forever. This is forcible rape, and lots of other things. You have got us into a real mess. '
"Cathy, the brunette, was still looking at my crotch and she touched my breasts and I could tell that she was strongly lez. Maybe she would go both ways, but her best times would be with another girl. I sensed that, somehow.
"The guys came in from the kitchen, and the bedroom got to be awful crowded. One of the guys put his hand on my clit and he rubbed it a little.
"We just wanted to have some fun,' Ernie said, 'We been seeing her on the beach all the time and she was practically asking for a gang bang, so we decided we would obliged her. '
"Cathy smiled at him. 'We might as well have some fun and worry about it later. Why don't one of you big jocks fill up that cute little hole for one of us?'
"Those two girls peeled out of the clothes they were wearing and they got onto the bed with me. They had real pretty bodies, and when Cathy sat on my face she gave me the choice of eating her or smothering. I began to eat her, and she squirmed around, and while I was doing what she wanted me to do one of the guys was sliding his dick into me and I was thrashing around like an animal, and they all thought it was real cute the way I could turn on.
"I guess that I spent an hour with Cathy's crotch in my face and then the guys lined up on me, and they didn't need the syringe or the basin anymore. Cathy finally got off my face, and Terry took a crack on it. She bent over and I found out that someone had screwed her and I had to cope with that, too, but it all went all right. Cathy and Terry wound up on the floor, and one of the guys screwed each of them. Then they started a sixty-nine that was pure bliss for them.
"After a long while, Ronnie suggested that they untie me. I wasn't going to go anywhere and they could use me as they saw fit and I would do as I was told to do or else. Ronnie came over so that he could look down into my face.
"You promise to be a good girl if we untie you?' he asked. I nodded my head. My mouth was dry, my throat was dry, and I was sure that I could not have spoken if my life depended on it, but nobody cared. Cathy and Terry were free and standing up for the first time being and they untied me and helped me to get up onto my feet. They took me into the bathroom and they waited while I took a shower and got some circulation back into my arms and legs.
"Honey,' Terry said, 'we are going to have lots of fun with you today. We may have to hurt you a little, but that's only if you try to make trouble. These guys will kill you and think nothing of it, if they have to do it. But let's not give them any reason for that kind of trouble, okay?'
"We can take some pictures before we turn her loose,' Cathy said, smiling. 'I don't think she is going to want to tell anybody about any of this. '"
"I promised I would never mention anything to anybody about my ordeal in the bedroom or the fact that I had been kidnapped and gang raped and they believed me. Cathy sat down on the toilet and smiled at me. She said that we were going to have some lunch and then she and Terry would teach me how to really make love to a girl. I started to tell them that I wouldn't do that, but Terry put her hands on my breasts and backed me up against the wall. Her bright red nails dug sharply into my breasts and I nearly fainted from the pain. She laughed at me when she saw what the pain did to me.
"Cathy finished peeing and she tore off a piece of tissue and wiped herself down there. She was watching me and Terry and she was amused by my reaction to Terry's fingernails in my soft flesh.
"You just be a good obedient kid,' Cathy said, 'and you can come out of this alive. But keep in mind. There is no real need for these guys to keep you alive. You do whatever you are told to do, and we will see to it that you go free. '
"Oh I will,' I said, nervously. They knew that I was scared to death and they laughed at me.
"We went back into the bedroom and the guys were eager for new activity. They were going to take turns again and I was going to have to blow each one of them. I know it's an awful thing to say, but I began to enjoy the whole business. Once I knew that I was not going to be killed, I was able to enjoy doing the things that they made me do, and the quality of cruelty and brutality that they showed me, made it even more enjoyable.
"When everybody was sated for the time being, the girls made me help them in the kitchen fixing some lunch and I began to find out a bit about the gang. Terry and Cathy lived in the bungalow we were in, but they were moving soon. They were going to school up north and the guys would be going that way, too.
It may sound funny, but I was as hungry as anybody else, and I ate, knowing that I was going to have a very busy time of it once we were finished eating.
"I was sure right about that. The girls were just as bad as any of the guys and I remember Cathy saying, 'I just can't wait to watch what she does when Johnny rams that big dick of his into her rear end. Man, she'll claw the walls out. She has a very strenuous afternoon ahead of her. '
"Ernie laughed. 'We won't get another chance like this for a while, maybe. We'd better enjoy it while we got this cute little thing here. '
"The afternoon and most of the evening is a blur, but there are parts of it that stick out in my memory. I know that some of the sensations were fun, but most of it was pain and hurt and humiliating things that they made me do. That seemed to be a big part of it for them. I mean, I think that's why they would abduct a girl and rape her and hurt her, and I am lucky that I didn't have to die to furnish them with the ultimate thrill. I'm sure that I would be dead if the girls hadn't shown up.
"They were just as bad as the guys when it came to sex and what they liked to watch, but they wouldn't stand for murder. Rape and kidnapping and forced sexual humiliations, all of that they thought was good clean fun - but murder, no.
"And I'm glad they felt that way.
"They made me get back up onto the bed again and there were things I had to do. The girls wanted to see me totally occupied, they said. You know what that turned out to be? That turned out to be a dick in every opening.
"First I had to straddle Johnny while he rammed his big prong up inside me. Then I laid down on his belly and that put my bunghole up into the air and Kenny started easing his dick into that. He hurt me, but he just went ahead and did it. Then while those two guys were moving inside my body, they made me go down on Ernie's big dick. That, they said, was being totally occupied, and they were sure right about that.
"They went for the same kind of a deal later on, and I found out that such a trip could be lots of fun. There wasn't anything that we didn't get around to trying, and when the guys were exhausted and incapable of doing anything for awhile, I had to make love to Cathy first, and then Terry, and that took a long time. And by the time they would let me rest, the guys had their steam up and it was just more of the same all over again.
"They kept up with the orgy until darkness came, and still it went on, because just when I was sure that no one could summon any more strength, one of the guys would show up with an erection and something would have to be done about that.
"I was dazed, I know, just worn out and thinned out, practically dehydrated, I guess, and when they finally called a halt, I was so relieved I was nearly sick.
"The girls became interested in what they were going to do about me. Sam offered to take me out to sea in the boat and slip me in the ocean. No one would buy that.
"Ronnie said, 'Fix up her bathing suit and give it back to her. I'll take her on the boat and put her into the sea close to where she lives. Then I'll be back. You guys get ready to pack everything up and get out of here. She won't say anything to anybody about any of this. She knows that she would have real trouble on her hands if she were to holler cops. '
"They bought that. But Ronnie wasn't all that sweet about things. When we swam out to the boat and got underway, he made me blow him all the while we were at sea. He told me that some of the guys would really kill me if I tried to do anything about the horrid experiences I had, had, and I believed him.
"I promised him that I wouldn't blow the whistle on anybody. I just wanted to get home and get into my own bed and sleep forever. I had aches and pains in places I hadn't even known I had, and I just wanted to rest forever.
"When the boat got offshore from my part of the coast, Ronnie gave me a big smile and then he just pushed me over the side.
"Go home and keep your mouth shut,' he said.
"I took his advice. I swam in to shore and I was dead by the time I got there. I laid down on the beach and fell asleep. When I woke up I went home, and no one asked me anything. And I never told anyone. Until now. . . "There are some elements in the subject's background which indicates that the gang rape situation in which she was victimized may have serious negative consequences for her. She has begun to experiment with sex quite early in life, in a particularly uninhibited fashion. She is an only child, and feels a certain amount of isolation unless she has a great many friends. She apparently does not receive much love and emotional support from her parents. At the time of the rape she has moved with her family to a new area in which she has not yet made any friends and contacts. All these factors make her particularly vulnerable to the possibility of neurotic sexual patterns later in her life.
This combination of factors is described and discussed by Gladys Denny Shultz in How Many More Victims?:Dr. Halleck believes that with girls, as with boys, the amount and permanence of damage done depends upon the child's previous personality development and the family situation at the time of the sexual violation was experienced. In working with large populations of promiscuous, adolescent girls, it is possible to trace back histories of sexual seduction during latency or puberty. Most of these girls come from seriously disturbed homes. . . a surprisingly large number have had pre-pubertal sexual experiences. If the sexual event takes place at a time in the child's life when she is deprived, isolated or upset, it may take on a particular significance. Promiscuity may then appear as a neurotic compulsion. One of the indications that promiscuity may appear, at least partially as a result of this experience, is the fact that the subject has not talked about it with anyone in her family, thereby denying herself the opportunity to ventilate some of her feelings about it and, hopefully, come to terms with the experience. There are several aspects of her own behavior which indicate that she may be suffering from a great deal of negative feeling internally, and not allowing herself the relief of relieving these feelings. One of these aspects is the fact that she is at least partly responsible herself for the event having occurred.
She admits that her presence on the beach is an attempt to attract male attention in the first place, and one of her assailants accuses her of "asking for it," which may not be far from the truth. She is in need of attention and emotional gratification, and in her lack of experience has chosen to attract male attention in the hopes of fulfilling these essential needs.
This she shares with other victims of rape in her age range, who are described by Paul H. Gebhard, et al, in Sex Offenders: An Analysis of Types:In some ways the twelve - to fifteen-year old girl is peculiarly liable to force or threat. She is old enough to be physically attractive and yet not old enough to have learned to avoid or escape potentially dangerous situations. Whereas an older woman has learned to regard all men with some suspicion and to recognize quickly when a situation is developing sexual overtones, the twelve - to fifteen-year-old is usually na�ve. In her conscious or unconscious mimicry of the behaviorisms of adult females, the young girl often is more sexually provocative than she realizes. . . the twelve- to fifteen-year-old girl frequently wishes to give the impression that she is older and more sophisticated than she actually is. . . A part of masculine folklore is the concept that a female who promises but does not fulfill her promise deserves to be forced; a curiously righteous note prevails to the effect that a "teaser" should be "taught a lesson" as punishment. It is all too possible that, in this case, the subject may be all too aware herself of her own provocative behavior and appearance, and may feel to some extent that she did, in fact, "deserve" what she got. If this feeling is unchecked, it will inevitably lead to profound guilt feelings which can give rise to various neurotic patterns.
In addition, the subject realizes that she actually enjoyed a great deal of the brutality and humiliation, a circumstance which is not too unusual. For those with a negative self-image, masochism frequently appears, reinforcing the "rightness" of whatever situations occur in which the masochist is somehow "punished. " This additional factor can add considerably to the subject's burden of guilt.
Still another negative consequence of this experience, for the subject, is the potential fear she may feel with regard to establishing new relationships with people. She states that she needs many friends in order to feel good; however, she may find more difficulty than before in taking the risks necessary to establish friendship in a new place, due to the way this particular incident concluded.
One thing which might help the subject overcome many of these feelings and consequences would be the process of openly examining her feelings, talking them out, and coming to a new understanding of herself which takes place in a therapeutic situation. However, she has not even revealed the incident to anyone who might be able to guide her toward that therapy which is definitely indicated. Thus, it does not appear that she will be able to master these events and overcome the trauma.
The various factors which contribute to her own feelings of guilt, inadequacy and shame undoubtedly make it all the more likely that she will keep the incident concealed within her emotional makeup, where it can eventually flower into a skewed personality that can seriously hamper her ability to form relationships that will meet her emotional needs.
Although the rapists threaten the subject with violence if she does not cooperate, it does not appear that her life was truly in serious danger. The group of people who kidnapped her seems to have incorporated at least some members with a sense of responsibility as to how far they can go, for their own protection. However, although she did not lose, and probably would not under any circumstances have lost, her life, she has suffered an experience which will have a profound effect on her subsequent personality development.
The subject is badly in the need of psychiatric help to enable her both to understand her own role in bringing about the rape itself and to accept and minimize the negative consequences of the experience.
Chapter Four
Tony Was Chubby"Some people would say a girl like me deserves to be raped. So when I tell you about what happened to me and my two girl friends, those people just won't have any sympathy. That's all right; I guess that's just the way it's got to be. I've accepted the fact that being a sex-flick actress brings out the self-righteousness in 'better people. '
"Anyway, no matter how I may appear morally to other people, I still like to have the right to pick and choose my own sex partners. I don't like being forced into things, and I don't like rough stuff.
"That's the main thing I have against what happened to me - getting raped. But not the sex part of it. I love sex, and I must admit I enjoyed some of the sex that night I was raped, along with my girl friends Jill and Monica, by three guys. And I must also admit that I think the experience was valuable for me, since I learned something more about human nature - about the motivations behind what was being forced upon me.
"But before I go into the details of that, perhaps I'd better tell you a few things about myself.
"My name is Toni Schiffer, and I'm eighteen years old. I'm certainly not the best-looking chick working in sex flicks - nowhere near as cutesy as Jill or as strikingly beautiful as Monica - but all the same I'm considered something of a superstar in my field, the reasons for which I'll go into in a moment.
"I'd better confess my chief physical fault right off the bat: I'm chubby. Not super-fat, but what people in their kinder moments call pleasingly plump. At least the fat is mostly in the right places. I have the kind of butt men can't resist pinching when it's clothed and grasping passionately when it's not, and Monica has called my breasts 'the eighth and ninth wonders of the world. ' They are, to put it succinctly, gigantic.
"Yet, knock on wood, they don't follow the laws of gravity. I know they'll sag terribly someday - that's inevitable. But right now they stick out, in all their glory, and even curve upward a bit for a ski-jump effect. I have absolutely no need for a bra, though Jill says I should wear one, or at least band aids at the tips, out of mercy to men, since the nipples have a way of enticing stares and worse, the way they poke out of my T-shirts and blouses. My reddish-pink nipples, set in silver dollar-sized areolas, are forever plump and erect, though they get even more so when teased and caressed. And, as I said, they top off some tremendous soft mountains - size 44s to be exact.
"Well, I guess I've stressed the best attributes of my plumpness. I'd also better say, to be fair, that my tummy bulges more than it should and my thighs are meatier than I would desire. Also, my face would be more attractive if it were less round. But I can't help it - I love eating, and all my attempts at dieting have gone to naught. In any case, I've accepted that I am what I am, and I like myself just as I am. I really wouldn't change a thing.
"A few more details of myself, and then I'll tell you why I'm considered a star in my films. I have blue eyes, a fair complexion that blushes easily, and a naturally blonde hair that I streak with darker shades. I'm five feet five inches tall.
"I'm a star in sex flicks, and rapidly became one, because I'm very talented. Not that I can act all that well - I'm no Katherine Hepburn. My talents are more specialized and unusual. I think the whole thing will become clear when I say I learned them by reading about Linda Lovelace.
"Right. I can do what she does. It wasn't easy, but I forced myself to learn those zany techniques. It takes a lot of discipline to learn how to stretch your ass and open your throat that way, and that's why there are so few sex actresses around who can do it. Let me tell you, though, it's worth the trouble, and once you've got the knack you've got it for good.
"The guys who raped me and my two girl friends knew nothing about my peculiar abilities, but they knew that I and Jill and Monica were sex film actresses. I don't know exactly how they found out, but apparently they knew that the place we regularly entered to go work was a sex-film studio, and they just put two and two together. Also, they might have seen one of us or more in a movie, and then spotted us on the street. Anyway, the fact that we earned our living as we did seemed to be the thing that incited the rape itself. Or that's what they made us think by what they said to us.
"Well, the way I look at it now, now that it's all over and done, is that perhaps it's better that it was us than maybe some innocent little girl or something like that. I mean, no one likes to be raped, but there's no denying that it is more of a shock for some women than for others.
"Jill, Monica, and I all have pretty good heads on our shoulders, and we think that we look at life pretty realistically. So we go through it prepared to meet the bad as well as the good. I've known the both of them for about six months. We met working in a film called Sex School Kittens. We've been close friends ever since.
"Jill is a petite boyish brunette, who has a slim little body and stands five feet exactly. She wears her hair closely cropped, but it looks way stylish around her pretty, pixieish face. Monica is utterly beautiful. She's a statuesque redhead, about five feet seven, with freckles over most of her body. And that body is just out of this world - perfectly proportioned all the way down the line.
"I've watched Jill and Monica in action in film after film and I know that, though they don't have my special skills, they're everything a man could desire when it comes to loving. And I know more than that about them. Since almost all the films we've made together call for scenes with some lesbian action in them. I know firsthand that these girls really knew how to arouse someone. Eventually, we moved in together, and we make love sometimes there, though our jobs absorb most of our sexual energies. All three of us, I'd better explain, like men best, but we're all ready for any kind of excitement.
"But we weren't too crazy about what happened that Friday evening, when we walked out of the doors of the studio and headed toward the back of the building, where our car was parked. The studio is located on the edge of town, in an industrial section where there is little traffic after the workers in the area have gone home. It was right around six thirty, and the sky was halfway between crimson twilight and night.
"We girls were chatting merrily about this new guy who'd been hired to act a part in the film we'd been making. We were supposed to have filmed this scene, ironically, where he was supposed to have locked us in his dungeon, chained to a wall, and he was going to have his sadistic way with us. But the scene got cut short when that age old problem occurred - failure to rise. The guy, a handsome young dude, was not accustomed to the lights and the camera and the people watching, and though he seemed to have the right equipment, he just couldn't get it enthused. We tried everything to get him into gear, but no matter what we did or what the director suggested, he just couldn't get in the mood. We tried over and over again, but finally the director said we'd start over the next day. We girls were a bit frustrated, wanting to rub up against this good-looking new fella, but we couldn't help but giggle over his predicament. We were talking so much and laughing so hard that we didn't even notice the '57 Chevy until it had pulled up next to us.
"Hey girls,' came a voice from the car, 'look over here. Look what I got. '
"It was a young, blonde guy with long hair and a beard. And he was pointing a pistol right at us.
"Monica let out a sharp little shriek. 'Shut up,' said the guy, 'and get your asses in here. Climb into the back seat with my friend here, and be quick about it. '
"There were two other guys in the car - a driver, and someone in the back seat. For a moment we hesitated, neither complying with him or trying to run away. We looked around for help but there were no other people or cars in sight.
"Don't even think about trying to run away,' said the longhair. 'If you think this is a toy, or you think I won't put a bullet in each of your lovely bodies, you'd better think again. Now move!' His tone of voice made believers out of us. We opened the back door and got inside.
"The guy in the back seat was black, and he was a very big guy. He had no gun - apparently the blonde was the only one with a gun - but he didn't really need one. He looked like a football player or wrestler. The guy in front had long, greasy hair, and he looked at us with hungry, crazy eyes. We learned that he was a Mexican-American when he talked - making obscene comments about us as we huddled, frightened to death, in the back seat.
"Never mind,' said the blonde to his Mexican companion, 'let's get out of here. Head for the house. ' He seemed to be the leader of the three. He turned to us as the car sped down the street. 'Now just remember girls - if any one of you tries to bolt out of this car, she'll get shot right then and there. And even if she gets away, then her two girl friends are gonna get it. I don't think you want to get anyone killed, now do you? So just sit still, enjoy the ride, and be quiet. We'll be at the house soon. '
"We girls looked at each other frantically, not daring to talk. Poor little Jill had climbed into the back seat first, and was sitting next to the big black guy, pressed up against him. He soon pulled her up into his lap, handling her like a little doll, with his hands - giant mitts - under her arms and on her small, but upthrusting breasts. She started to struggle against him, but he wasn't about to stand for that in the least.
"Now don't give me no trouble,' he said in a soft but menacing tone. "I'm gonna do what I want with you, or you'll get it. ' Even when he had her on his lap, he didn't take his hands from her chest, but instead began to move them all around that area, Jill writhed and tried to pull his big hands off with her little ones.
"The long-hair blonde had been watching this from the front. He quickly, like a snake striking, reached across the seat and slapped Jill's little face once, twice, and then again, hard, viciously.
"Leave her alone,' I shouted, and before the words were barely out of my mouth, the long-hair clutched my throat in his big hand. I couldn't breathe. Then he pushed me back roughly against the seat, letting go of his hold.
"You'd better cooperate!' he shouted. 'You'd better get smart, or it's gonna be bad, real bad for you. '
To emphasize what he said, he slapped Monica across the face, though she hadn't been doing a thing. All three of us were crying by now. The big black guy continued to maul Jill's body, his breath coming louder and louder.
"We eventually entered a residential area, where we were told to get down on the floor-board and not look up, or we'd be killed right then and there. We did as we were told. The car obviously pulled into the driveway and into a garage, whose door was shut behind it. Then we were allowed to get back up, though we were once again told to keep our mouths shut.
"There was a light on in the garage, but it had no windows, so we couldn't see out and couldn't be seen from outside. We were led through a door into a kitchen and from there into a spacious bedroom. The house evidently belonged to one of the three men, and just as evidently he had some wealth.
"We were told to sit on a couch in the middle of the room while the three guys huddled together in a corner, talking so we couldn't hear them. It gave me a chance to get a good look at them for the first time. Both the blonde longhair and the black guy were tall, though the white guy was skinny while the other was husky and muscled, and they were both dressed pretty sloppily - the white guy in jeans and a white T-shirt, the black guy in old, faded black pants with a flower-print shirt hanging out.
"Beside them, the Mexican guy stood out. He was a lot shorter, maybe five foot six or so, and he was dressed much neater, though informally.
"They walked over to us. The blonde still had the gun in his hand. The Mexican looked at us intensely. 'Open your mouths,' he ordered.
"What?' questioned Monica.
"You heard me. Open your mouths and hold them open. '
"We looked at the blonde, who'd raised the gun so that it was pointed at us, and we obeyed.
"The Mexican popped a couple of pills into each of our mouths. We had no idea what kind of pills they were. We were ordered to swallow them.
"At least give us a glass of water, you creeps,' said spunky little Jill, and got a hand across her face as a reward. We swallowed the pills as we'd been told.
"Then the blonde guy made an announcement.
"I want you girls to listen to me very closely. We haven't picked you up and brought you over here to play Monopoly. Were going to have our fun with you tonight, whether you like it or not. ' He paced back and forth nervously as he talked to us, always holding a tight grip on the pistol. 'The best thing that you can do, not only for us, but for yourselves, is to do exactly what we tell you to do, and right when we tell you to do it. Otherwise you'll get hit. Or worse. You understand what I'm saying so far?'
"We nodded our heads in fright.
"Okay. Now the object of our little game here, in case you haven't guessed it yet, is sex. We three are going to get our rocks off, and you'd be better off helping us than fighting us. That way you'll get out of here faster. '
I couldn't help sighing in relief when I heard that he planned to let us go eventually.
"The longhair noticed my reaction. 'That's right,' he said, 'we're going to free you - if you do what we want and if you promise not to go to the police. But that means you gotta do everything any of us tells you to do. Got that straight?'
"This time we nodded with more emphasis.
"Their first order was a test of whether we would go through with this agreement right off. He ordered Monica to lie on the floor between the couch and an extremely heavy cabinet full of books. He told her that the black guy was going to tie her down - tie her so that she would hardly be able to move. Monica gulped, but didn't dare to object. She moved over to the part of the thick carpet he had specified and lay down, trembling but submissive.
"Oh yeah,' said the blonde. 'One more thing before he puts the ropes on you. And this goes for you two other girls too. Take every bit of your clothes off. '
"We obeyed. We knew we had to. And we knew that we were only at the beginning of our nightmare. These guys were going to have their way with us. It was either that that or be killed, I realized at that moment. So I pledged to myself that I'd cooperate with them as much as possible, to get things over with as quickly as we could.
"When Monica lay back down on the carpet she did so completely naked. I saw the eyes of the Mexican almost bug out of his head when he saw the way her reasonably large, freckled breasts jiggled, but didn't flatten out in the least when she lay on her back. His eyes, as well as those of the other two rapists moved over her entire body, drinking in the beautiful sight of her indrawn waist, her supple thighs, and the enticing patch of red hair in the vee between them. I have to confess that my eyes were on her, too, even though I'd seen that classic beauty of hers so many times before.
"Wow, we struck gold here, man,' said the black.
"Yeah. It sure looks good. I can hardly wait, echoed the Mexican, now moving his gaze over all three of our unclothed bodies, evidently trying to decide which he wanted to get his hands on first. The extent of his excitement was obvious at the crotch of his trousers, where a sizable bulge was forming.
"Okay,' said the blonde longhair gruffly, 'quit gawking and get the rope. Tie that redhead, and tie her down tight. Then you can gawk, and get a handful as well. '
"The black and the Mexican quickly complied, going into the garage, and emerging with several lengths of cord. With this they fastened Monica's wrists and ankles firmly to the legs of the heavy couch and cabinet. We watched helplessly, wondering if there was more rope for us. But the attention of the men, for the time being, was fixed on the fascinating beauty of the shapely redhead. I couldn't blame them. I had kissed those taut, pink little nipples and those puffy red lips often myself, and put my head between those silky thighs. I knew how she could drive you crazy. But my lovemaking with the redheaded beauty had always been gentle, truly loving. These animals were crueler.
"They proved that their natures were warped immediately by pulling out, of all things, a feather. The Mexican began to trail it up and down Monica's body - along her neck, collarbone, between her breasts, up to the nipples, dallying there, then on down her stomach to where her pubic hair began. All the time the poor girl whimpered and writhed and pleaded with them to stop. She begged for a while and then she called them the worst names she could think of, and then she began to beg again. The way the ropes were tied, her legs were spread open, and it was impossible for her to shut them, no matter how hard she tried when the feather approached the private spot between them.
"The Mexican, laughing and commenting all the while, went straight for the clitoris with his little delicate instrument of torture. He flicked the soft sides of the feather against the little bud first, causing her to writhe even more frantically than before, and then the beast used the point of the thing directly on her sensitive button, cruelly flicking it back and forth, again and again.
"Oooooooh. Aaaaaaaah, Oooooooh, God, no,' Monica moaned. 'I can't stand. . . aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrgggghhhh!' She was screaming now, and the black covered her mouth with one of his big hands. Muffled groanings continued to come from the poor, tortured girl.
"After running the feather up and down the girl's moistening vaginal lips with similar sadistic glee, the Mexican finally set it aside. He stepped into another room and came back with something that caused Jill and me, who saw it before Monica, to gasp aloud together. It was a whip. He walked straight over to the tied down girl and cracked it against her defenseless stomach.
"Aaaaaaaeeeeeeiiiiii!' my friend screeched, the black having pulled his hand from her mouth. He immediately slapped her face and then covered her lips again.
"The whip came down again and again, leaving red welts on her breasts, stomach and thighs. Eventually, the Mexican tired, and started to hand the whip to the blonde, but he shook his head.
"We've got two other girls here, you know,' he said, sending a chill down my back.
"You want me to whip them too?' Asked the Mexican.
"No,' answered the longhair, 'I have something better in mind. '
"He started to unbuckle the belt on his old jeans, and told the other men to do likewise. In an instant, all three had dropped their pants and climbed out of them.
"I stared unblinkingly at them. The Mexican's manhood stood up fully erect at an angle from his body. It seemed to be about average size. But the black guy's, even though it hung down, not nearly all the way erect, was much larger. I couldn't believe the size of it. The blonde's equipment, though also not as rampant as the Mexican's, was seemingly larger than the norm too.
"Come over here, the blonde commanded, pointing a finger at Jill. She rose and walked over beside him. 'Kneel down. ' Jill knew what he wanted, and didn't wait for the next order. She took him in her small hand, and drew two inches into her thin lips. The blonde sighed and the other two men laughed.
"Ain't that somethin'' said the black. 'We gonna get some of that too?' he asked his friend, watching Jill's mouth move up and down slowly with envy.
"Sure,' said the blonde, and pulled Jill's head off of himself with an audible plop. 'Now do my friends. First him,' he said, pointing to the Mexican.
"Now Jill had something hard to work with, instead of the soft tool she'd just been mouthing. She went about it dutifully, even arduously, as I could see from the movements of her short-haired head and the look on the Mexican's face.
"The black was next, and he'd become much larger since watching Jill at work on his two friends, so that Jill had to open her mouth wide to accommodate him. She could only get about one-fourth of him into her mouth, though she sucked him in deeply.
"Back and forth she went. They stood in a circle around her, each waiting his turn, all erect now under her skillful ministrations. But they didn't want to ejaculate yet, so they finally stopped her and sent her back to the couch. As one of them said, 'The evening's still young. We haven't even started yet. '
"We three girls looked into their faces, wondering where their imagination and desire would lead us next. Already they'd hurt us and humiliated us. What else would they do? I knew the hopes running through my head were the same running through the minds of my two friends - that they wouldn't hurt us too badly, that they'd soon be satisfied, and that they'd free us.
"But one thing was for certain - what they'd just said was very, very, true. The evening was still young. . .
". . . The three young men who had kidnapped Monica, Jill and me had already made use of my two friends. Now it was my turn to be abused. The order, as usual, came from the blonde, long haired leader.
"You!' he barked at me. 'Off the couch. Come here. ' I walked over to him and he ran a hand over my body, my breasts mainly - which he seemed fascinated with, the way his eyes glimmered. He was mostly gentle, though once he squeezed one of my huge, upright breasts roughly, causing the flesh to bulge from between his fingers like dough. Then he turned to the other two men.
"Untie the redhead,' he said.
"After Monica had been released, she was placed on the couch, next to petite Jill.
"Spread your legs wide,' the blonde told them, 'and keep them that way. '
"After he was sure the girls had obeyed, he grabbed me by the arm. "Walk over there to the couch, kneel down, and put your head between the redhead's thighs,' he ordered.
"I did as he commanded, using my lips and tongue on Monica's sex, which was still moist from the excitement she'd felt, despite herself, from her ordeal with the feather and the whip. When she began to whimper and moan with delight, the blonde had me shift over to Jill's open thighs, where I went to work in similar fashion on her, running my teasing tongue up and down her sensitive groove, often concentrating on the seat of her desire, her clitoris, which was unusually large and, I knew from experience, was also unusually responsive. Before long, what I was doing got to Jill, and she put her hands on the back of my head, pulling it closer to her.
"Will ya look at that,' said the giant black, his sex still as erect as ever, though it had never attained it's full size, 'they really like it. They's a couple of lezzies. '
"The Mexican nodded his head in agreement, but when he saw me looking at him (he was masturbating himself) he angrily barked at me to get back to what I was doing.
"Jill, by her little cries and yells, was obviously approaching climax, and the men, not wanting to give us too much pleasure, stopped me from bringing her to orgasm. Instead, they had her and me get onto the carpet in front of the couch and assume a sixty-nine position, with me on top. Jill buried her face between my thighs, while once again I set about working her toward her release. Above us I could hear the three men commenting and chortling.
"As I tongued Jill and she tongued me, I felt sexual tremors move through me from what she was doing to my clitoris and vagina - but I felt something in addition to that. My whole body glowed with a feeling I had never felt before. My head swam. Everything felt so. . . sexy. . . and full of. . . energy. Finally, through this encroaching fog, I realized that whatever drugs these guys had fed us earlier was beginning to take effect on me, and probably on my two friends as well. I had no idea what I had been given, and I still don't know to this day, but whatever it was, it was making me feel extremely horny. Jill's tongue felt absolutely wild as it trailed crazily around my vaginal area. And I, in turn, went after her with a new enthusiasm.
"Above Jill's moans and my own, and the slurping sounds we were unavoidably making, I heard other female noises, and I rose my head to look around and see what was happening.
"Monica had been dragged down to the carpet herself, and the Mexican had his stiff rod deeply planted in her vagina, while the blonde leader was forcing her to give him head, holding her long, red hair in one of his hands while she moved her lips up and down his throbbing shaft. Then the blonde looked over and saw me staring, and he told me to get my face back down into Jill's pubes.
"Jill and I worked ourselves up to writhing, simultaneous climaxes, but we weren't allowed to collapse on the carpet and rest. The black guy made sure of that, even going so far as to hold my head in place. He ran his huge hands over my plump body and Jill's slim one, time and again, murmuring things about how nice we felt.
"Soon that wasn't enough for him. He came around to me and told me to hold me to look up. I did, and I was confronted with the biggest erect penis I had ever seen in my short but very experienced life. It was gigantic, unbelievably so. It must have been two full inches in diameter and ten, maybe more, inches in length. It was coal black.
"Kiss it,' he said. I did. 'Again,' he ordered, and this time, despite the difficulty, I pulled about three inches of his stiff rod into my warm mouth and ran my tongue around it.
"Oh,' he groaned above me. 'You know how to do that thing, um-um. Gimme lots of tongue action, oh yeah. '
"But he abruptly pulled out of my mouth and moved over behind me. I had to face it - he was going to put that log inside me. But I was ready for it, I was sure. I'd easily taken dildos as large as that up me since I'd learned how to flex my vaginal muscles to accommodate any size, though I'd never had an actual man of that size. Not one I could recall, anyway.
"Sure enough, he rammed it into me. It filled me pretty good, better than I thought I'd ever be filled by a man. He moved it in and out slowly. Jill continued to lick at my clitoris, and evidently she was licking him too, when he emerged from me. I started to use one of my special tricks - squeezing on his rod with my vaginal muscles. This is something prostitutes do to speed up their customers, but I'm better at it than any whore. He felt it, all right. He began to push and pull faster, and little cries came from his throat.
"Feel so good. Oh yeah,' he stammered. 'It's all right. ' With my muscles working on him and Jill's tongue adding to his pleasure, the black guy didn't know whether he was coming or going. Soon he was pumping into me as fast and hard as he was able, and then, with a great roar, he climaxed deep within me.
"But after a minute, he recuperated, and had Jill and me trade places, with me now on the bottom. Then he had Jill in the anus. The poor little chick howled as he entered. Fortunately, he was still wet and slick from being in me, which cut down some on the friction. All the same, it was painful for the girl's narrow channel. I was forced to lick her vagina, which meant that I had to watch him go in and out of her at close range. Jill's own head between my thighs was getting me excited again, though, and I began to watch the action in earnest. Soon, all three of us came to a shaking orgasm, and we collapsed on the carpet.
"Nearby, the blonde and the Mexican were enjoying Monica's body together, the blonde making the redheaded girl crouch over him, with his white penis lodged deeply in her, while the smaller man took her from behind. I watched them until they, too, all climaxed and fell in a sweaty heap.
"We all laid around for a while, breathing hard, unable to say a thing. Finally, after we'd rested for about five minutes, the Mexican fella propped himself up on his elbows and made a suggestion.
"Hey, who wants a shower?' he asked. Now that he had, had a sexual release, he seemed friendlier and less imposing. 'Let's take the girls into the shower, man,' he said to the blonde and the black.
"The blonde longhair was still exhausted, or so he seemed, shaking his head without raising it. But the black guy was ready. 'Come on, girls,' he shouted.
"Okay, go ahead,' said the blonde guy. 'But not her,' he added, pointing to me. This puzzled me, but I didn't object. The other four people - the black, the Mexican, Jill and Monica - left the room, leaving me and the third guy alone.
"Why didn't you want me to go, too,' I asked.
"None of your business,' he said gruffly. 'Just lay back and shut up. '
"But I wanted to know one more thing. I wanted to hear his answer to this question and see if I could believe his tone of voice. 'Will you let us go now?'
"No,' he answered, chilling me with terror. But he added, 'Later. We'll let you go later if you do what I told you. But not now. Just lay back and relax, cause I'm not through with you yet. '
"Still I refused to stop questioning him. He interested me. 'Why are you doing this?' I asked him hesitantly, and when he didn't bark at me I added, 'Why do you have to rape girls? You're good-looking enough. Why don't you just get a date?'
"He just laughed softly.
"Encouraged by his lack of anger for the moment, I prodded him. 'Why,' I repeated, 'do you have to rape. . . '
"He cut me short. 'I don't have to do anything,' he said. 'Besides, you girls deserve to be raped. '
"Deserve!' I nearly screamed. 'And why in the world do we deserve to be raped, may I ask?'
"Because you're sluts!' he said, raising up. 'You make dirty movies, don't you? You're not going to deny that all three of you are sluttish whores who show off your bodies and do the dirtiest things you can think up in front of cameras are you?'
"It's dirty only if you consider sex dirty,' I countered. 'Is that what you think?'
"Sex is dirty when you do it that way, sure. '
"Oh nonsense. '
"You're dirty sluts who deserve everything you get. '
"How about rapists. Do they deserve everything they get - like the gas chamber?'
"Now he looked at me suspiciously and angrily. 'You going to tell on us then?' he asked in a menacing voice.
"I realized that I'd made a mistake. 'No. ' I said, 'that's not what I meant at all. I'm just trying to find out what this attitude of yours is. It sounds pretty crazy, putting down somebody who just makes sex movies, but not putting down someone who forces people to do what they don't want to do. Am I right or am I wrong?'
"You're not doing anything here you don't want do,' he said. 'You do these things all the time for those movies. '
"Yes, but I do them out of my own free choice, and I get paid for them. I don't suppose you plan to pay us, do you?'
"No,' he said, not being able to suppress a small grin. He seemed to relax now, and I felt relaxed myself. I'd let all thoughts of when he was holding a gun on me slip from my mind.
"You shouldn't feel that way about us,' I told him. 'And you shouldn't feel that way about sex. You think sex is dirty only because someone ground it into your mind, some poor person who had it ground into his mind when he was young. So you try to repress it, and you start to hate places where it isn't repressed at all, like sex movies, and the people who act in them. '"Oh yeah,' he said, 'what do you know?'
"I know a lot,' I told him, 'because I've left my mind open about life. I haven't ever been afraid to experiment. And by experimenting, I've found out for myself what's good for me and what's not. And one of the things I've found out is that sex is all right - and it doesn't matter whether you're getting it on in private, with one person, or in front of a camera with ten. What matters is that everyone involved is doing what he or she really wants to do. '
"I looked at him intently. He was listening to me without interrupting, and I was surprised.
"Of course, I guess I was lucky,' I observed. 'My parents were pretty liberal. They didn't try to teach me that a natural body function is dirty. '
"I don't want to talk about parents,' he said glowering. 'Go ahead and talk, but not about parents. '
"I suddenly felt very sorry for him. He sounded like a hurt, terrified little boy.
"What's your name?' I asked him.
"None of your business,' he said. 'Think I'm gonna tell you my name so you can go running to the police with it?'
"I just meant your first name,' I said. I got up, walked over, and crouched beside him. I looked into his blue eyes. 'Don't you believe me?' I asked.
He looked back at me for long seconds. Then his face broke out into a smile. 'Sure,' he said. 'My name is David. What's yours?'
"Toni,' I said. We kissed, and he hugged me to him.
"When we finally broke the caress, I said, 'I'd like to show you something. '
"What's that?' he asked.
"Just lay back and relax. '
"As soon as he had lain back, I took his limp penis into my hand and began to stroke it lightly. I cupped it in my hand and warmed it. It started to stir a little. I tugged on it carefully and twisted it just slightly. Then I stroked it some more. Next, I lowered my head until my lips were just a couple of inches away, and I blew air softly all over the penis' soft skin, up and down.
"I looked up briefly at David's eyes and saw him staring back with interest, curiosity and growing passion. I rewarded him by finally touching my lips to the head of his ever-growing shaft. I kissed it chastely with my lips, then drew back just a fraction of an inch and let my tongue snake out. I laved him lovingly, slowly, starting with the head and working down the sides.
"After spending a full three minutes at this, I took his whole rod, which was by now about three-quarters erect and already larger than the average man's fully erect penis, into the warm, wet cavern of my mouth.
"I just let it lay there for a moment, without causing any friction, enjoying the feeling of it there and knowing that it felt even more wonderful for him. It's really something to feel one of those things miraculously increase in size within you, whether it's in your mouth or in your vagina.
"But I wanted to get his thing up to it's full, most bursting size for the special treat I had in mind for him, and so I started a slow up-and-down movement, holding my lips firmly around the circumference of his widening shaft, and rose and fell all the way from the tip to the base and back again. On top of this, I gradually increased the vacuum in my mouth, letting my cheeks slowly pucker in more and more. And then I lazily ran my tongue in circles around and around the sides, top and bottom of the rod.
"It didn't take long.
"Wow!' he said simply, and reached down to run some of the strands of my blonde hair between his fingers as he watched me work with increasing ardor on him.
"He probably thought this is what I meant by 'showing him something,' so for a moment, I lifted my mouth off him and said, 'You ain't seen nothing yet. '
"By this time, when his penis re-entered my mouth, he was so full and erect that only half of his shaft could fit into my cavern until the head bumped against the opening to my throat. He was an extremely well-endowed man - which was just what I needed for the little act I was about to perform.
"I rose up carefully on my knees so that I could get my upper body in the right angle, then, with him still in my mouth, I raised my chin so that part of my neck directly beneath it was almost parallel to the bottom part of my neck. I let all but the last inch of him ooze out of my mouth slowly, looked up at his wondering face, then I did it - with one fell swoop I moved my lips all the way down to where they were smashed flat against his pubic hair, ensheathing his stiff, huge rod in my throat.
"He yelled, 'Oh my God!' but it was more the sound of an animal than a man. I knew from previous experience the reaction this talent of mine caused in men, especially men like this David - those who weren't expecting it at all. I just let it stay there for a few seconds, tightening my throat muscles around him tensely, not wanting him to come right away, which was the main danger in this sort of surprise. Luckily, he hadn't been so close, and he held his hard-on.
"Am I dreaming or do you actually have that thing in your throat?' he asked breathlessly.
"I just went 'ummmmmm,' knowing that the vibration this caused would be answer enough for him. And it was - a very similar sound came from his throat at the sensation this caused. Then I began to move, very slowly, releasing him a bit from my unusual hold.
"Oh baby,' he whispered as he felt what I was doing.
"Slowly, maddeningly, I pulled him completely from my throat. Once again I set my tongue and lips on him, but with care, not wanting his pleasure to end this soon.
"Before long I plunged down again on his great rod, sending it to the bottom, but this time I worked it in and out, and I knew that for him it was like having intercourse with the tightest virgin, but better, since not only could I open my throat to allow him to enter, but I could control the contractions of my throat, pumping him at will, which was enough to send any man up the wall.
"But he hadn't had the full treatment. I pulled my mouth off him suddenly and told him that there was more in store for him. I looked away from him, bending over, with my butt way up in the air. I told him where to put his hard penis, and I told him in no uncertain terms. He smiled at my bluntness and moved quickly to comply.
"He was probably surprised right off the bat, when he put the head of his huge plunger against my puckered anus and found that it slipped in quite easily, without the usual difficulty caused by anal intercourse.
"His rod moved all the way within my bowels with ease. Then, once it was in, I tightened down. Before, to allow him to enter, I'd relaxed my muscles - the same way I'd learned to relax my throat muscles. Now I contracted them, and I could feel every square inch of his rod along my passage.
"I let him pull and push as he normally would, but I continually contracted and released, and it wasn't long before he exploded within me, howling out his feelings.
"When the other guys came back in, I gave them some samples of my talents as well, and since the other girls, fresh from the shower, were much more relaxed too, we all cavorted around the living room, doing everything our imaginations could think of, until we were exhausted.
"They let us go as they promised, and they never bothered us again. I thought David would use force or threats to get me again, but I guess he was still a little afraid of me going to the police, so I never saw him again.
"Though the rape had it's ugly aspects, I don't totally regret the experience. You learn from everything, I suppose. If I do have any regret over it, it's like I told Tom our director, the day after it happened: it was too bad that he wasn't there to film it all. "
Toni is an interesting subject because she is one of a very small group of rape victims who not only have managed to have handled the experience without serious damage to her emotional, but have also managed to transform the experience itself to the point where it is difficult to determine whether she has even, in fact, been entirely victimized. She is, probably justifiably, proud of her abilities as a sexual partner, and sincerely enjoys giving sexual pleasure to men. In addition, she is proud of her body and reasonably confident of her attractiveness. All these factors give her, and her friends, a measure of internal security which is important in making them less vulnerable than many women who are sexually assaulted.
In addition, although they are forcibly abducted at gunpoint and made to go with their attackers against their will, once they arrive at the scene, they begin to be aroused and to cooperate. Because of this, most of the sexual intercourse that takes place cannot be considered a true sexual assault. The situation is potentially violent, and violent means are used to intimidate the girls and implement the kidnapping, but there is little violence in the actual sexual acts. Because of this, the situation is transformed into a true encounter, in which a relationship is established between Toni and her captor which would not have been possible had her behavior been different.
The circumstances in this case may resemble the circumstances in many cases of forcible abduction that do not get reported to the police. Gladys Denny Schultz in How Many More Victims? Discusses the fact that only a small proportion of rape incidents are reported: Many authorities state that only a small proportion of rape attacks and child molestations are made known to the police. Some say only one fourth are reported, while Dr. Karl M. Bowman, of the Langley Porter Clinic in San Francisco, reporting on the California Sexual Deviation Research Project, put the proportion as low as one fifth. The very first finding of the staff which carried out the first New York State study of sexual offenders in Sin Sing was: 'The problem is much more complex than had been thought. The spectacular cases which arouse so much public concern are numerically only a small part of the problem of sex crime. It involves not only thousands who are convicted but other thousands never discovered except by social acquaintance who never complain. . . . Toni's case is obviously one of those many thousands which is never reported to the police. This is partly because no damage has actually been done, partly because Toni herself generally enjoyed the experience, as did her friends, and partly because her attitude toward sexual encounters is broad enough to encompass even this highly unusual and somewhat offensive approach technique. It is significant that in this case the use of a gun to kidnap the girls becomes an "approach technique" rather than a true criminal act. This is entirely due to the response of the girls involved.
Although Toni definitely does not enjoy the intimidating aspects of the experience, she does somewhat enjoy the mild brutality that accompanies the initial stages of the sexual situation. In this case, and in her acceptance of the sex itself, she is not as unusual as she might seem. Paul Gebhard, et al, in Sex Offenders, discusses these aspects of the experience of sexual aggression for many women:The phenomenon of force or threat in sexual relationships between adults is beclouded by various things. In the first place, there may be the ambivalence of the female who is sexually aroused but who for moral or other reasons does not wish to have coitus. She is struggling not only against the male but against herself, and in retrospect it is exceedingly easy to convince herself she yielded to force rather than persuasion. . . Secondly, there is a certain masochistic streak in many women: they occasionally desire to be overpowered and treated a little roughly. It is, after all, very ego-satisfying for a female to feel she is so sexually attractive that the male cannot maintain social restraints and reverts to "caveman" tactics. These factors are partly responsible for the public and judicial skepticism with which complaints about rape are frequently received. In Toni's case, these factors are largely applicable. Unfortunately, for many victims of rape and group rape, they are not applicable, and women who are truly victimized by sexual aggressors meet with less sympathy and credibility than is proper and just.
One interesting aspect of Toni's case is the stated motive on the part of her abductors that she deserves to be punished for her profession. That is fairly common as a stated motivating factor among sexual aggressors, although it is used more frequently to justify the victimization of prostitutes. However, it generally conceals a deeper motive of hostility toward women, or even fear of women, which is more likely the case with the men who kidnapped Toni and her friends.
Interestingly enough, the very profession she is ostensibly being punished for has enabled Toni to achieve a view of sex which is broadly philosophical and which prevents the incident from becoming the sordid, ugly terrorism it normally becomes. In addition, this accepting attitude leads her to make some positive, constructive use of the experience and to learn something about human nature which she might not otherwise have known.
These positive aspects of the experience hardly compensate for the emotional violation of being forced into a strange car at gunpoint. However they do somewhat mitigate against the possible emotional damage that might have been done had Toni been a less open and accepting person.
Unfortunately, for the majority of victims of rape and group rape, this is not possible, nor is it even desirable. Toni is an exception to many general statements that can be made about females as victims of sexual aggression, and her reactions and responses cannot be taken as typical nor can they be held to be particularly desirable.
There appears, in short, to be little damage, and little need for therapeutic measures. Toni and her friends have come out of their experiences with few regrets and future repercussions do not seem to threaten.
Chapter Five
The Raped Crusader
". . . It was in the south of France, of course. We'd just come from Monaco - no, we started that day from a little outside Monaco. We'd motored through Toulon to Marseilles. I really didn't like that city. It was smelly and dirty, inhabited by a lot of low, dirty types, pimps and prostitutes, gangsters, cutpurses. . . Reggie, however, found it all 'fascinating, absolutely fascinating,' of course.
"But at least I didn't have to suffer the embarrassment I did in Nice, Cannes, and, especially, in Saint. Tropez. Reggie insisted that, now that we were in the playground of France, we would, naturally, wear playclothes. Meaning, principally, that I would be wearing a series of the most dramatically revealing swimsuits Reggie's money could buy. Oh, he was sneaky about it, persuasive and sneaky.
"I'd met him in Paris, where I'd been attending some lectures at the Sorbonne. I thought he was an upper-class Englishman, who knew just about everybody and was always right in the middle of the heady intellectual life of Paris.
"He seemed the perfect gentleman. Perhaps almost too gentle, if you know what I mean-almost effeminate. He spoke knowledgeably about London, Carnaby Street, museums, and so forth. I thought maybe he was a fashion designer, or independently wealthy, or something. His French was excellent, and I marveled at the way he carried on the typical Parisian repartee.
"I met him first through a sculptor who, it turned out, was a mutual friend of ours. Pierre, the sculptor - that's a good name for a sculptor, isn't it? It means stone. Pierre had even talked me into posing for him, for some sketches he was doing, some studies for a metal figure he was going to cast. Oh, he worked on me for weeks, Pierre did, telling me that my prudery was an affront to art, and it was setting artificial limits to the realization of his talent.
"So finally I gave in. I mean, he was on his knees, literally, pleading with me to pose for him in the nude. One day he saw me weakening - oh, I used to blush, thinking back on that day. Used to blush, but what's happened to me since. . .
"Well. He saw my resolve weakening, and he quickly said I didn't have to stand totally nude. I could drape a long swatch of cloth around me. . . you know, to sort of get a classical drape to the material. Oh, he was cagey, Pierre was.
"He made me forget my modesty completely - subtly, by degrees.
"First I sat on a wooden crate, with the material - heavy, almost like brocade - draped over my shoulders and down to the floor. Pierre would adjust the hang of the material, the folds of the drape, just so. All that was visible of me below the neck was a patch of skin on the side and my one leg.
"Then the next day, he made me sit for a three-quarter sketch, one breast undraped, and the hang of the cloth revealing my entire thigh and hip.
"Marvelous,' Pierre said. 'Beautiful!' And he sketched quickly.
"The next day he told me the heavy brocade was interfering with his conception of the basic molding of the form. 'I have to see the muscles,' he said.
"So I flexed a leg and a thigh.
"Fantastic, I was. Just fantastic, according to Pierre.
"And when I looked at some of the sketches he was doing, I almost had to agree. They were alive and sensuous. You could almost see the torso breathe. I thought the molding of the legs too muscular. But they had weight and life. The breast and buttocks - I blushed to look at them! - seemed altogether too voluptuous. Pierre assured me they were not.
"A few days after that, when I'd gotten used to sitting nude, in a relatively modest pose, Pierre had me stand. He sketched me in a three-quartered back view, turned at the waist, so my torso was again in profile. This time my left breast was visible.
"This time when I saw the sketches, they were so suggestive, so voluptuous in line and shading, that I asked Pierre if he was sure they were art. What particularly struck me were the cleft of the derriere, so deep, so accented, so 'expressive,' Pierre said, and the rather full, and I thought exaggerated, shape of the breast, with the nipple standing stiff and erect and - so obviously there.
"Well, Pierre developed a mild artistic tantrum. 'That's you,' he said. 'That's your body and you must stop being ashamed of it. ' He talked about the great artists, from Michelangelo to the present.
"And how do you suppose Bernini developed the marvelous conception of the Ecstasy of St. Teresa?' He demanded. 'His subject was a saint, a pristine, religious woman. But I'd be willing to bet he infused his model with something besides religious ecstasy. ' He paused for effect. "I'll bet he made her concentrate on her body, on the flesh and form and reality of her body. No doubt he recounted to his model how Saint Theresa had, had a vision that an angel came to her bearing a golden spear with a fiery tip and plunged it into her deepest innards, and when he drew it out she glowed in the hot fire of love for God. '
"I told him I didn't know anything about that. I knew of the striking sculpture of Saint Theresa, of course. But I told him none of my art history courses had mentioned an angel with a fiery spear, sinking it into her.
"Then he showed me one of his art books, showed me a picture of the Ecstasy of St. Teresa. 'Look at it,' he said. 'Look at the expression on the face. '
"I had to admit that Saint Theresa's expression could be interpreted as something besides religious ecstasy.
"Sexual ecstasy,' stressed Pierre firmly. 'I wouldn't be at all surprised if the artist hadn't actually induced a sexual ecstasy in the model!' His eyes were intense and burned into me.
"Slowly his gazed softened. He placed his hands on my shoulders, on my bare flesh. His hands were warm and rough. The warmth seemed to flow out of them into my flesh. He spoke in a low voice.
"Now I want you here by ten o'clock tomorrow morning,' he said. 'And from now on until then, I want you to think about your body. Only about your body, your bones, your muscles, your flesh. ' He paused and ran rough hands gently over my shoulders and down the skin of my back. 'Concentrate on feeling with your body - your whole body, and not just your hands and fingers. '
"His fingers rested lightly on my hips. I suppose it was a little forward of him, but his steady gaze held me and I felt almost hypnotized. 'Don't be afraid,' he said, 'to feel with all of your body. Your hips. ' His hands gripped the flesh of my hips. 'Your breasts. ' His brown eyes dropped to my breasts. 'Yes,' his voice was vibrant, 'even the most intimate parts of your body. '
"I felt a tiny thrill in my stomach. His hands were smoothing the flesh on my hips and waist, trailing warm fingers over my abdomen. My breath caught.
"Then he seemed to release me. His eyes lost their burning urgency. He turned and looked at the afternoon's sketches. 'Tomorrow at ten,' he said. 'And think about your body. '
"Well, as soon as I left his study I shook my head to clear it. A spell seemed to lift from my mind. I laughed aloud. He's very persuasive, I thought. Well, I'll be there at ten o'clock. . . but what nonsense about feeling with my body. My breasts. . . my 'intimate parts. '
"And yet I couldn't get his words from my mind. I'd be reading, or fixing something to eat, and all of a sudden I'd begin to be conscious of my body. The way it moved - my arms and legs. . . and, yes, my abdomen, my thighs, my buttocks. I fell asleep thinking about my legs and breasts. My dreams that night were frankly erotic.
"I got to Pierre's studio about five minutes to ten the next morning. My body was feeling strangely alive, almost vibrant. My breasts tingled. I'd decided to wear no bra, so I would feel the material on my cotton dress. I didn't want to think about it, but I couldn't sort out my thoughts. They were all sort of jumbled.
"Entrez,' Pierre called sleepily.
"I opened the door and went in, a brave smile on my face to cover my slight embarrassment at the knowledge that I would probably be posing nude that day, absolutely undraped. My smile froze and faded. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' I gasped.
"There were two naked figures on the bed, sprawled out, entwined in what could only be venereal disarray. Pierre, as disheveled as the bedclothes, frowned at me from red eyes. He looked hung over. There was an empty wine bottle on the floor at bedside.
"Good Lord,' he croaked. 'I forgot. ' He sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from his face, apparently still unaware that he was completely naked. . . and well, erected.
"But that, as shocking as it was to my sensibilities, was not what fascinated me most.
"Sprawled next to Pierre, in sleepy abandon, was a young, tawny, tousle-haired girl who looked more Italian than French. I gathered that she was from Marseilles or Corsica. She was rapidly coming fully awake. She blinked a few times and then her big, dark, button eyes grew wide as she stared at me.
"I guess I was staring, too. I mean, she was a striking young thing, in an animal way. And she had a sleek, well-developed body. Large breasts, but not pendulous at all. Her waist was kind of short, but her hips were wide and heavy, her legs long and lithe. She had a flat, muscled stomach, and her movements were like those of a cat.
"But what really floored me was. . . her pubic area. She was endowed with what I can only think of as a half-acre tract of curly, black pubic hair, through which I could clearly see her. . . her privates - her vulva and vagina. And she was not demure about exposing herself. As far as she was concerned, her privates deserved to be on display at the Louvre.
"Her eyes flashed at Pierre. 'Cochon,' she hissed, and sat up, one bare leg on the bed, the other on the floor. 'So! An Englishman!'
"An Englishwoman,' said Pierre. 'But she's not English. She's American. ' He was still groggy.
"So!' And she launched into gutter English she'd picked up God knows where. I still blush to think of it, but at the time I was absolutely flabbergasted.
"So!' she said. 'You pull your cock out of me and stick it right into her eh?' She reached over and gave his erection a quick wrench. He let out a muffled groan.
"Alors, miss American,' she said. She got out of bed and threw on a short-sleeved, open blouse, which only drew more attention to her outthrust breasts and nipples. She picked up her slacks and held them, gesticulating with them. 'You come here to - to fuck this man, eh?' She stood with her legs canted, her legs spread, and her pubic mound thrust forward, as if she could take the brunt of the world's assault on it.
"No,' I began. 'I'm sorry. . . '
"Yes,' she said. 'I think so. He has got nothing left to fuck with. ' Every other word was a swear word that grated on my ear. 'That - that machine of his, it's nothing lef'. 'e jus' have to go pee-pee. '
"Balancing on one foot, she pulled on her slacks and turned her ire on Pierre.
"And you, con. I'm happy we fuck all night. Now you see what you can do with miss American! I don't think nothing. Rien du tout. ' She turned to look at me, looking like some raven-haired Brigitte Bardot. She smiled proudly.
"Firs' he lick me an' I suck him. It is very good. Vite, vite, vite! Many times for me. For him - hah! - once. But, mmn, mmn, mmn. . . ' And she made obscene motions with her mouth. 'I work on this machine, his. . . 'ow you say? Cock! Mmn, mmn, mmmnn!'
"I watched her with a mixture of horror and fascination.
"Then when 'is cock is big an' stiff, e' fuck my. . . con, cunt. ' She seemed to be searching for all the vulgar words she knew. 'Twat! 'E fuck my twat. Oooooh. Good! An Pierre, 'e again vite, vite!. . . Come!'
"Pierre had lit a cigarette and was sitting on the bed calmly smoking it and watching the young lady as she poured out scorn.
"Then, las', he fuck me in my cul. . . my ass. An' oh-la-la, that is the bes'! 'E push an' fuck an' vite, vite, vite! An' after that, he is a little worm, like so, an' e' sleep like the dead. '
"She slipped on her rope-soled shoes and picked up her small purse.
"Sculpteur manqu�,' she spat at him. ' 'Ave fun with 'is little worm. '
"I think her calling him a failed sculptor angered him.
"Alors, putain,' he shouted. 'Va-t'en, va-t'en!'
"Good day,' she said to me pleasantly. 'A bientot. ' And with a marvelous hip-rolling walk, she walked out the door.
"It took several seconds for me to catch my breath.
"Pierre snubbed out his cigarette. 'You mustn't pay too much attention to her. She is just a low type. No appreciation of the finer things in life. '
"Whether that was to excuse her vulgar language or to assuage his wounded ego, I don't know. But I almost laughed.
"You, on the other hand,' I said, 'evidently do appreciate the finer things in life. '
"He looked at me nonplussed. I was trying to keep a smile on my face, to be worldly and say something sophisticated and ironic. But my head was a mass of thoughts I couldn't untangle. I had, strangely been both repulsed and fascinated by what had happened.
"Yes,' Pierre said. I thought he was looking at me strangely. 'Why don't you make coffee?' he said brightly. I became suddenly aware that he was standing before me absolutely naked, with his. . . his thing, his machine, hanging there grossly. With effort I kept my eyes above his shoulders.
"Excuse me,' he said. 'I must go wash. . . uh, my fa. . . I must go brush my hair. ' And he put on a pair of shorts and walked down the hall.
"I put a pot of water on the hot plate and waited for it to boil. There were some very weird thoughts trying to express themselves in my head. I felt odd tinglings and flashes all over. I began to realize that what was making me feel strange was the scene I'd just witnessed with that. . . that girl. '
"No matter how much I wanted to think of her as a slattern, a guttersnipe, I couldn't help but envy her, her pride in her body. It was her body. She was proud of it, and she flaunted it. The brazen gamine admired every square inch of herself. I resolved that I could do the same.
"And it was that resolve, at that particular moment, that started the trail of events that were to lead me directly to that hour of titillation and terror on the warm hillside next to a medieval ruin not far from the romantic city of Carcassonne. How I could possibly have let myself get into that predicament, I'll never know. One lone woman traveling with five men, four of whom I hardly knew. . . But I'm getting ahead of myself. You haven't even met Reggie yet.
"And I hadn't even posed nude yet for Pierre. But that day, after the young girl flaunted her body shamelessly, I decided to pose for Pierre completely nude, without any drapery and, if I could help it, without shame.
"When he came back from washing - I wondered what he'd washed, but I had a pretty good idea - his hair was combed, too, and in his shorts and sandals he looked like a freshly scrubbed schoolboy. It was difficult for me to imagine him as he'd been a few minutes before - naked, with his 'machine' dangling in front of him like a wrinkled, soggy piece of rope.
"I must apologize for the behavior of Yvette. '
"So that was the girl's name, I thought.
"She is a nuisance,' he continued.
"Yes, I could imagine what kind of nuisance she was.
"She has no education and she. . . '
" I know,' I said. 'She has no appreciation of the finer things in life. '
"Ah, you are annoyed, I see. ' He made himself a large cup of instant coffee, and dumped two huge spoonfuls of sugar into it. He sipped tentatively. 'On these sketches,' he said. 'Perhaps you would prefer to wait till another day to. . . '
"Oh no, you don't. ' I wasn't about to let him make me a scapegoat for his idleness when he didn't feel like working. 'It is now half past ten. I was here at ten sharp, as you told me. Now if you do not possess the artistic discipline to work with a hangover, that is all right. But. . . '
'No, no,' he hastened to say. 'But, of course we will sketch, if you. . . ' He looked through the skylight and rubbed his hands. 'It is a very good day for work. Courbet would love this light. ' He picked up his sketch pad and charcoal. 'Alors,' and he reached for the drape of brocade.
"But I'd anticipated him. While he'd been fussing with his coffee and sketch pad and the brocade, I'd taken off my cotton dress and was already standing completely naked in the center of the studio, standing as proudly as I could with my shoulders back and my head high.
"He stared at me wide-eyed and mute, then he whispered, 'Mon Dieu. ' He dropped the brocade.
"Well, tell me how to pose,' I said. 'You're paying for it. ' Yes, I neglected to tell you, he was paying me a few francs an hour to pose for him. It was enough for my lunch every day, and really helped defray expenses.
"Of course,' he said. 'That's fine. Just like that. Don't move. ' He sat on the bed directly in front of me and began to sketch. But it seemed to me he didn't sketch as quickly as he had yesterday. He spent long moments between strokes just avidly looking at me.
"I suppose I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn't. I held my proud pose and felt a small sense of exhilaration. My body felt more alive than it had in months. I could feel the rise and fall of my breasts, the weight and flexure of my thighs and buttocks. A vision of Yvette crossed my mind, and I smiled to myself and tried to make my body feel like hers.
"Marvelous, said Pierre. 'Simply marvelous!' He sketched in bold strokes, hardly taking his eyes off me. I noticed, to my very slight alarm, that his penis was beginning to grow under his shorts. He seemed unaware of it. Whenever he looked down to his sketch pad, my fascinated gaze flicked to the rising lower edge of his shorts.
"Abruptly I caught a glimpse of - was it? - yes! - the head of his penis, red and swollen and throbbing, edging below the leg of his shorts. It snaked out like some live thing with a life of it's own, pulsing in willful insistence. My breath stopped and I felt my mouth go dry. I simply could not take my eyes off that penis. Visions of Yvette flooded my mind, her body, her legs, her lush mouth, her con, her cul. And always there was the sight of the solid flesh of Pierre's penis thick and red under his shorts. My mind began to whirl.
"No, no,' said Pierre. 'You're becoming tense now. Just relax. ' He dropped his sketch pad and came toward me. With great effort I pulled my gaze from his penis and looked at a point on the wall beyond him.
"A little to your right,' he said, and reached out a hand to turn me. But at the same instant as I turned slightly to my left, and suddenly felt his warm hand smack on my breast.
"Oh!' I said. But instead of backing away, removing his hand from my breast, I stepped forward, clasping his hand to me, forcing my breast and burning nipple into his hand.
:Everything happened so fast. Suddenly Pierre was squeezing my breast and rubbing his other hand along my hip. My body seemed to explode. I leaned into him, our mouths met in a wet, passionate kiss. Before I knew it, my hand was on his penis, stroking it, fondling it, grasping it, feeling the life throb in it.
"His kiss became insistent. He pressed his body to mine, bending me in a passionate embrace.
"Now, I wasn't a virgin at that time. I don't want you to think that. I'd had love affairs before, two of them. But they'd been long courtship affairs, definitely on the square conservative side, when you consider the trend of modern morality. They'd been cases of love at first sight, flirtation, dating and petting, and finally, in moments of passionate giving and love, we'd tumbled into bed. And I'd always wrestled with my conscience afterward. Each time I went to bed with my lover, it was only after long foreplay had dispelled my reluctance. Half the time I didn't enjoy it.
This experience with Pierre was something entirely new. We stood in the middle of the brightly lit studio for several long moments, kissing hungrily, rubbing our bodies against each other, our hands caressing and groping shamelessly. I certainly wasn't in love. Just overwhelmed by a burning lust, a victim of rampaging urges I thought I had permanently locked away.
"We broke for a second and looked at each other with wonder. Then we both smiled happily, burst into laughter and tumbled onto the bed. Joyously we gave ourselves up to lechery.
"Pierre spent long moments kissing and mouthing my breasts. They began to feel like tiny hot probes were brushing them wherever his tongue touched.
"Slowly he pushed his shorts over his hips and down to his ankles. He pushed them off the bed with his feet. And all the time he never ceased caressing my body, running his sculptor's hands over my breasts and belly, my thighs and buttocks. And his mouth never stopped running moistly over my flesh, kissing, tonguing.
"Beautiful!' he kept saying. 'Marvelous! Fantastic!'
"I felt my body respond like a flowering bud to the sunshine.
"Oh, yes. . . oh, yes,' I said.
"And then I caught sight of his erect penis again, his 'machine,' the shaft thickly overlaid with veins, the head red and bloated. And I remembered in a flash Yvette and the strangely exciting coarse language she'd used. . . how she'd talked about the many ways the two of them had fornicated. And I remembered: She told me he wouldn't be able to make love today. What was it she'd said? 'See what you can do with miss American. Nothing I bet. ' Well, I thought, if that little. . . that little putain could see us now, she would positively flip. Pierre with that angry rampant erection! If she excites him with her coarse, earthly behavior, so can I! No more little nice girl, I vowed.
"Stick it in,' I ordered. It seemed to release all my inhibitions. 'Stick it in,' I shouted. 'Fuck me! Come in me!' I hardly recognized my own voice.
"Oo-la-la,' said Pierre in a deep voice. 'We make love, yes. . . and we fuck too. Good. ' There was a strange gleam in his eyes. 'We fuck with cock and cunt!' he growled. 'I feel your tits and ass, and I fuck your cunt, and then maybe I fuck your ass!'
"Yes, yes, yes,' was all I could say.
"I felt his hard penis push against my vulva. Expertly he reached under me with both hands and spread my genitals, my nymphae. And then, oh so slowly, he stuck his shaft deep into me.
"It seemed endless, huge and hot. I felt his testicles rest for a moment against my anus. And little sparks of fire seemed to burst out all through my body. My nipples and my clitoris, especially, were points of fire. He was an experienced lover.
"After a few moments, tiny waves of sensation began to wash over me, warm rings of feeling that seemed to roll out of my vagina and embrace my body.
"Good God!' yelled Pierre, bucking and heaving on top of me. 'Soon I think I fuck your tits too!' And with a gasping shudder he crested to orgasm.
"At the same time I felt a final wave of sensation bigger than I'd ever felt before. It washed from the center of my being in a warm surge. I knew I'd experienced my first small orgasm. . . A promise of things to come.
"In the days that followed, I didn't go back to Pierre's studio. I guess I was having a psychological reaction to our wild behavior of that last time. In those days I blushed whenever I thought that there I'd been, making love at half past ten in the morning. Me, who never went to bed with a man unless we both declared our undying love. . .
"I blushed to remember that I'd been brought to the extremes of lustful passion by thinking about the spiritual Ecstasy of St. Teresa. I recalled with chagrin how I'd been fascinated by the coarse behavior and vulgar language of Yvette.
"At the same time there was a kind of perverse pride and a disappointment that we'd only made love once. I remember how eager he'd been, before his orgasm, to try a little experimental sex - or at least sex that would have been experimental to me. After orgasm, Pierre had been absolutely exhausted, and had lain on the bed for two hours while I'd gotten up and gone out to bring back something for us to eat.
"He'd paid me handsomely that day, saying, 'Please, take it. This is for lunch. ' But it made me feel even cheaper. I'd find some other artist to model for. Someone who didn't talk about the ecstasy of Saint Theresa.
"Then one day I was sitting at a table outside a small caf� on the 'boul' Mich,' The Boulevard St-Michel, wondering where I would go for my vacation. I had a little money saved up and thought I might go to Amsterdam to see a girl friend of mine for a few days. I would be able to stay with her and save the price of renting a hotel room. I really wanted to go to the French Riviera, but hadn't the money.
"I looked down at the boulevard, and who should I see but Pierre walking my way, deep in conversation with some young, well-dressed man. He looked very British.
"But I didn't want to meet anyone right then, especially Pierre, so I turned my chair so I was facing away from them.
"I heard them going by - they were speaking English - and suddenly their conversation stopped and Pierre's voice said, 'Janet!' He always made it sound like Janette, so I would know he was pronouncing the final t. I turned, feigning surprise.
"What a pleasant surprise!' Pierre said, clasping my hand warmly. There was no hint that he was remembering our last meeting.
"He introduced me to his British-looking friend. 'Reggie has just come over from London,' he said. 'Via Saarbrucken, where he picked up his new Mercedes. ' He looked at Reggie. 'Ah, my friend, how I envy you. ' He smiled. 'But I must leave you now. Don't let me spoil your promenade. ' And he was off, hurrying down the boulevard.
"Reggie asked if he could join me for an aperitif. We talked for a long time. He was in Paris on business, but as soon as he concluded it, he was going, of all places to the French Riviera. He seemed quite interested that I was studying art history, but all he knew about it, he said, was from museums.
"He was tall and good-looking and dressed very well. He had a very quiet, mild manner and seemed almost effeminate. With him I felt none of the uneasiness, the threat, I'd felt around men the last few days. We agreed to meet the next day for lunch.
"I knew that I should write my friend in Amsterdam that very night, if I was going to spend my vacation there. But I didn't. I think even then, subconsciously, I was hoping he would ask me to go with him to the Riviera. When we met the next day, his manner was still mild, but he was much more talkative than he'd been the previous day. We had a jolly time. And then he popped the question. Would I like to go to the French Riviera with him. He was so humble and eager.
"I'd planned to do the bloody tour by myself,' he said. 'I'd be bored stiff till I got to Nice and Cannes. And it's better than picking up any old hiker for conversation. '
"So it was settled.
"D'accord!' we said and clinked our Camparis.
"At first I didn't like the idea of his offering to pay so many of my expenses, but he said, 'Look. I'm rich now. And I'd just spend it on foolishness or drinking too much or on the gaming tables. And a person like yourself - well, you'd be ruddy good company. You've been studying hard and you deserve a vacation. That's it - you deserve it!'
"So that was settled too.
"And everything went swimmingly. . . until we got to Nice and Cannes, where Reggie expressed dismay at my old, worn, one piece bathing suit.
"Absolutely not!' he said when I stepped out of my hotel room. 'Go back and take it off, and we'll go out and buy you a new one. No, I insist. '
"He insisted on going with me while I bought it, too. He talked me into getting a rather conservative bikini. Maybe it was just a two-piece bathing suit. I used to think of anything that didn't cover my navel as a bikini.
"Well, at first it didn't seem too bad, because all the other women on the beach were wearing more revealing outfits than I was. But then I noticed that men - almost every man I saw - were looking at me in that old threatening way.
"Reggie told me to relax. 'You have a very attractive shape. Naturally a healthy male will look at it. ' He seemed quite gregarious at the beach. He was always bringing people over to sit and chat. Sometimes attractive couples came over, and that was fun. But most of the time, it was single men or two men. I began to wonder if Reggie was using me to meet men. But we were always together in the evening, except when he might want to take a stroll by himself. And he didn't give off any homosexual vibes.
"But when we got to Saint-Tropez! Well! Reggie bought me a new bathing suit that was absolutely indecent. My breasts were always on the point of falling out of the cups, and I had to make sure my pubic hair was shaved so it didn't peek out the tops and sides. . . Yes, I know, my hair is blonde, but. . . I'm not blonde all over.
"What I didn't know, until after I went into the water once, was that my whole pubic region showed through when the bathing suit was wet. I continued to wear it after that, because Reggie was so nice to me, and I'd gotten sort of used to brief swimsuits. But I never went swimming in it.
"It was at Saint-Tropez that I made a firm decision to see Carcassonne. I'd wanted to see it ever since I'd first been in France. For me it was beginning to take on the aspect of a pilgrimage to a holy place. Carcassonne was where the Cathars were finally crushed in the Albigensian crusades. The Cathars were a heretic sect that was brutally suppressed in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. But they were very pious and pure people. And God knows I was determined to remain very pious and pure for some time, anyway.
"So I began to think of this as my own Albigensian crusade, a crusade to affirm my own piety and purity.
"And I was determined to remain pure - relatively speaking - in spite of Reggie, who was giving me frequent melting looks. He was a perfect gentleman, of course. But just his looking at me was enough to make me self-conscious and make my body start to get those warning warm, tingly sensations.
"Then, during our last two hours in Marseille, we ran into an American who was hitchhiking through France.
"Sam was a handsome, happy-go-lucky guy, traveling with a light pack and a rolled-up sleeping bag on his back. He was only too happy to ride to Carcassonne with us. We threw his packs in the truck and set out. . . Arles, Nimes, Montpellier. He was, in Reggie's words, 'jolly good company. '
"Then outside of Adge we ran into two more hitchhikers, an American and a German, Doug and Klaus. Doug was squat and muscular, and looked more like an Italian or a 'black Irishman' than an American. Klaus was erect, blonde, and blue-eyed, with wavy hair, and spoke fluent English.
"Well, what with four men in the car, the conversation came round to girls. Doug and Sam talked about the differences between American and French girls. Klaus talked about the differences between German and Italian girls. And they all talked about the differences between the girls of Normandy and Burgundy and Provence. Like they were comparing wines.
"Well, I was in the front seat, squeezed between Reggie and Doug, who took up quite a space. I found myself getting my old warm, tingly feeling, much against my will. Then Reggie, to my amazement, dropped his hand on my thigh and began caressing it slowly.
"It was such a surprise, I didn't know how to react. And by the time I was through wondering what to do, it was really too late to do anything. I mean, how can you let a man massage your thigh for a minute and then take it off? Besides, I figured, I was getting some sexual vibes from Doug on my other side, so it wouldn't hurt if Reggie made a little gesture like that to show that I was his.
"Sam, in the back seat, abruptly broke us up with: 'Christ! I haven't been laid for a week!' For a moment that eased my tension, everyone laughing and kidding Sam. Then the same atmosphere was back, thicker than ever. An air of suppressed sexuality. I was feeling hot flashes and breathing heavily.
"A few miles outside of Carcassonne, just as dusk was falling, we saw a lone figure walking by the roadside. Reggie slowed and asked him if he wanted a ride. He said yes. He spoke fairly good English, but with a pronounced accent.
"Reggie asked me if I would like to ride in the backseat, since it would be crowded in front. I said sure, the main reason being that Reggie had managed to raise my skirt almost to my hip on one side and was massaging my bare thigh. I was beginning to feel an overpowering sexual desire.
"So I climbed in back, while Sam thoughtfully held the door for me. Then I realized that by holding the door he had managed to squeeze me between Klaus and himself. When he got back in, both my thighs were snug up against theirs.
"Luis, the new fellow in front, was a Frenchman from Beziers, and he was going to Carcassonne to see his girl friend. He started to talk about his girl, who, it seemed, was not his only girl, but simply a girl he stayed with overnight occasionally.
"Then Reggie shocked me, shocked us all, I think at least for a moment. He said: 'She a good fuck?'
"Fuck?' Luis didn't know the vernacular.
"Reggie explained it to him in a few words.
"Oh, oui,' said Luis and laughed. Then he suddenly remembered me and glanced into the back seat. But I - stupid me - was sitting there with a stupid grin on my face, because Klaus at that moment began running his hand along my thigh the same way Reggie had been doing - the exact same spot at the same rhythm. And Sam, on the other side, had managed to place his elbow squarely on my breast and was doing a little massaging of his own. My breath came faster and deeper.
"Reggie and Luis casually discussed his girl friend in the front seat. I began to get hot flashes, and visions of Yvette sped through my mind. Fragments of talk about 'tits' and 'ass' came back to me, and I recalled a clear picture of Yvette standing proudly, clasping her breasts in her own hands. I breathed faster. Klaus's hand and Sam's elbow became more agitated in their ministrations.
"My Lord, I thought, what's happening to me? My mind was filled with anything but pure pious thought. Some pilgrim I am, I said to myself. Some Crusader.
"There was talk of sex all around me, it seemed. All the guys were talking about sex. The temperature in the Mercedes seemed to be rising.
"Just over there,' came Reggie's voice from the front seat, 'there's a medieval ruin. ' He pulled off onto a side road, then turned in his seat and laid a hand on my knee. 'You'll like it,' he smiled. 'Very romantic. '
"Fine,' I said in a hoarse voice. I began to tremble. My face still wore it's pasted-on smile.
"After a few minutes we stopped. We all got out of the car. About a hundred yards from the car was a wall and an ancient turret, I guess. I was intensely aware that Klaus had draped one arm around my shoulders and Sam had his arm around my waist. Every few steps, he would slip his hand onto my buttocks. They were both talking to me in low tones.
"Suddenly Reggie stopped. 'Right here,' he said. 'Isn't it a beautiful sight?' He was gazing at the ancient ruin, framed in the rays of the sunset. But his hand reached back to stroke my breast and belly.
"Oh,' I said weakly, 'what-?'
"Beautiful,' said Sam, but his hand lifted my skirt and went to the bare flesh of my buttocks. Klaus, one hand on my breast, was lifting my pullover to my shoulders. Doug and Luis were making no pretense of looking at ruins.
"Oh please,' I said. 'I can't - not all of you. ' It became abruptly clear what was going to happen to me. '
"Now Janet,' Reggie said. 'It's very romantic. '
"Oh my God,' I said. Suddenly it seemed as though I ceased to be there, except as a watcher and listener. It was as though my being left my body.
"My God,' said Klaus, 'she does have a body. ' Both his hands were on my breasts.
"Jesus, what an ass!' Sam dropped to his knees and took soft bites of my thigh and buttocks.
"That's it,' Reggie said. 'Talk it up. Talk dirty. It really turns her on. She goes wild. '
"Hurried hands were laying me on the ground, pawing my body, wrenching my legs apart. The ground was fragrant with mown hay and warm from the day's sun.
"So. ' Luis said. 'You like to fuck, too, heh? You like to fuck and suck, heh? An' have me lick your poo-sy. '
"Yeah, Luis. ' Doug. 'Why don'cha get down there and tell us what it tastes like?' Laughter.
"Here, suck this, and you won't hurt at all. ' Klaus above me, his erect organ inches from my mouth. And the insane smile still on my face.
"A wet, warm thing lapping insistently at my labia. Luis' tongue. My clitoris expertly caught. An exquisite shooting, electric sensation.
"A hard penis pushing into my mouth. Open, unthinking, to a throbbing, gristly shaft with velvety glans. Klaus moaning his pleasure.
"Sweet Christ, what a gorgeous cunt!' Sam, happy-go-lucky-Sam. "And you mean to tell me you haven't shtupped this once in ten days on the Riviera?' A sudden rending sensation from my labia. The enormous glans of a huge penis spreading the vestibule of my vagina. 'Hot fuck! What a sweet, tight cunt!'
"The eager, burning face of Reggie above me, temples throbbing, eyes glittering, speaking in a low voice. 'Enjoy, Janet, enjoy. Think of all the holy love that will thrust into you in the next few minutes. . . the golden spear with the fiery tip. '
"My insides seemed to burn, and waves of hot syrup flooded my vagina. My breasts are points of fire.
"Sam yells as his orgasm sweeps over him. My vagina turns into a primordial steamy marsh.
"My mouth is inundated with sticky, hot semen. It flows over my lips and down my cheek, into my hair. Klaus moans over and over again. 'Gott in Himmel. . . Gott in Himmel. '
"Then Luis is between my thighs. Another thick, gristly pole spears deep into me.
"Doug is poised over my face. I close my eyes as the tip of his glans presses gently against my lips, into my mouth.
"And always the crooning voice of Reggie. 'Here is where you make your crusade, Janet darling, by the medieval ruins of Carcassonne. And enjoy all the golden spears with fiery tips. . . 'For Janet, the events leading up to the group rape incident and the multiple rape itself represents part of a fairly complex phase of personality growth during which she begins to emerge out of the excessively rigid and restricting emotional and mental set which precludes enjoyment of sex and also makes emotional intimacy difficult. Before she arrives in Europe, she has experienced only two love affairs, both of them somewhat unsuccessful and characterized by sexual reluctance on Janet's part and lengthy, determined efforts on the part of her lovers to overcome her defenses. In most cases, once those defenses had been relaxed, she found little enjoyment in the sex and therefore the need for defenses seemed to be continually be reinforced.
In general, she is aware to a certain extent that her own rigid ideas and attitudes are responsible for her inability to enjoy sex. In her experience with Pierre she begins to understand that she need not necessarily be ashamed of her body. She begins to respond to his elaborate, intelligent seduction of her, but is then thrown off balance by the presence of another woman, a frankly sexual and self-approving woman near whom Janet feels more intensely that her own shame and guilt about her body are no longer desirable.
Her reaction to Yvette's sexuality is interesting, because she sees it as a challenge to her own sexuality, rather than allow it to further intimidate her. This indicates that Pierre's long weeks of subtle campaign to awaken Janet have begun to bear fruit, in that she is beginning to be willing to consider the possibility that she may be sexually attractive, and that she may enjoy it.
Although she finally consummates sexually her relationship with Pierre, she then immediately retreats into isolation because she is somewhat afraid of the consequences and of her own strong feelings. However, an important defense has been broken. She has seen the love of her own body as a desirable characteristic herself.
In this sense, she has made an important first step in emerging out of the Protestant Ethic, the tenets of which have characterized her previous behavior. Gerhart Piers and Milton B. Singer in Shame and Guilt discuss this Protestant Ethic in general cultural terms, but the discussion is applicable to Janet's personality transformation:Max Weber's construction of a "Protestant Ethic" is one example of such a more complex kind of characterization. While it is still of some value for cultural characterization, it has tended, under the influence of excessive psychological interpretations, to become a designation for a generalized sense of guilt of "Protestant personality type," the absence of which is regarded as equivalent to moral and technical backwardness. Janet herself believes that the absence of a sense of personal shame and general guilt is a corruption of decent values, as evidenced by her remarks about people and her intolerance of any departure from certain false "norms. " In addition, she betrays her rigid, suspicious kind of thinking in her continual suspicion of men and her belief that they are manipulating and exploiting her at every opportunity. Of course to some extent that is true, but is largely due to the fact that Janet's super-strong defenses do not present an opening or opportunity for a man to relate to her in a more open, more honest way.
Once the events in Pierre's studio have taken place, we can begin to see definite changes in Janet's attitude. The primary evidence of change is the fact that she accepts Reggie's invitation for a shared vacation, an acceptance of real experience which might not have taken place had she not begun to come out of her shell.
On the vacation, there is still much indication that Janet continues to be somewhat ashamed of her body. For example, her strong feelings about the revealing bathing suits Reggie asks her to wear are an obvious indication that she still feels some shame about her body and her sexuality. However, she does wear the bathing suits, and allows them to become increasingly revealing. Janet is truly making an effort to overcome what she now sees as an undesirable rigidity in herself.
In the car, when the conversation and the behavior of the other men Reggie has picked up begin to arouse and stimulate Janet, she does nothing to stop the progress of sensuality. One senses she is encouraging it rather than discouraging it, although she is unable to frankly admit her fascination and attraction. In this, she shares something in common with other rape victims. Paul Gebhard, et al, in Sex Offenders, discusses this characteristic of some rape victims:Another source of female desire to be forced is a psychological defense and projection mechanism that enables an inhibited woman to enjoy sexual activity without feeling guilt about it. "He made me do it" salves the conscience very readily. Unfortunately this excuse can have disastrous consequences if it is offered by the girl, not only to herself but to her outraged parents. As Dr. Kinsey has often said, the difference between a "good time" and a "rape" may hinge on whether the girl's parents were awake when she finally arrived home. For Janet, of course, none of these disastrous consequences would take place. However, the fact that she does not need to take personal emotional responsibility for the rape situation does relieve some potential guilt feelings and at the same time allow her to enjoy, as she apparently does, the multiple intercourse that can only technically be called rape.
It is particularly interesting that Janet herself is aware of a kind of pilgrimage, and that Reggie is sensitive to this image in her life. She has indeed been on a pilgrimage throughout her European experience, and particularly on this vacation. But it is a pilgrimage toward finding her true sexual self, rather than to some outward place or token. It is extremely fortunate for Janet that the men she has encountered throughout this European summer are fairly understanding and not malicious. She would have been an easy victim, and it is rare that a woman as vulnerable as she is meets up with good-natured cooperation rather than the viciousness and terror that accompany most rapes.
Janet appears at this point to be on her way toward a new internal and emotional structure which should open up many possibilities for her in her life.
CONCLUSIONThe fact that acts of forcible sexual aggression take place in our society with regularity and increasing frequency is to a certain extent an indication that there are serious difficulties in the development of emotionally healthy adult personalities within our present system.
The necessary hostility and disrespect for others which make forcible rape possible could not develop in so many individuals if there were not severe irregularities in the socialization of young people and the moral and ethical character of adults.
The necessity for some kind of recognition of this problem and some attempt to deal with it is clearly stated by Leon J. Saul in The Hostile Mind:
The population is a reservoir of hostility, conscious or unconscious. Morality and ethics are not goody-goody, but are the expressions of the nature forces of cooperation upon which society is based, society with all it provides in protection for it's members in a hazardous, inexorable universe. These forces of cooperation are nonexistent in situations where an individual seeks to enforce his will on an unwilling subject. They are the very forces of cooperation that promise the only hope of human growth and realization of human potential, and they are seriously undermined in situations where an unwilling victim is raped. The same factors that create the possibility of forcible sexual aggression are at work in the development of political demagogues and political tyrants, and in addition there are many other situations in which citizens are raped in various ways in the sense that the will of contemptuous and hostile others is enforced upon them without their consent.
Because of the larger implications of the concept of rape, it is important to understand why it is that we have failed to successfully countermand this impulse, even in the microcosm of the ugly, terrifying sexual rape. One of the reasons we have failed to counteract this impulse is our organized legal system has failed to clearly understand the nature of rape. Evidence of this is found in the fact very few reported rape cases are ultimately prosecuted, and even fewer convicted.
Linda Buisson, in "Nice Girls Do Get Raped," from the Los Angeles Free Press, has provided some illuminating statistics on this phenomenon:The reported number of rape cases has steadily increased in Los Angeles over the past four years. Legislators have been constantly pressured by attorneys, community organizations, and women to revise archaic evidence codes and statutes. . . Eve Norman, State Coordinator for the National Organization of Women and member of the Los Angeles Commission on Assaults Against Women, charged that out of the 7,838 complaints filed in 1972, only 3,500 arrests were made. She also noted that of the 850 convictions for rape and lesser offenses, only 124 were actually tried. In reality, only 12 per cent of all the persons arrested for forcible rape are actually convicted in Superior Court. This failure of the legal system to provide a means for identifying the rapist and taking some measure to prevent the recurrence of his destructive behavior has resulted in a situation where although women are victimized in increasing numbers by rapists and gang rapists, they have less and less realistic recourse open to them in seeking any kind of justice against these aggressors.
Although it is true that a great many situations have been defined as rape incorrectly, still there are many more instances of forcible rape which not only go unpunished, but also go unreported and undetected because of the fact that women are intimidated by legal failure and harassment when they try to seek justice.
The fact is that a tremendous number of injustices occur in this area, both for victimized women whose assailants are still at large, and for falsely accused men who suffer equally. Truly, it seems that a system in which there can be the possibility of so much misunderstanding and unjust treatment for both men and women should be open to serious question and re-examination.
This kind of examination is taking place, and some reforms are being made which promise a hope of more justice in the future. However, at the present time a woman who is a victim of a rapist has little hope of cooperation from law enforcement officers. By the same token, and most tragically of all, the man who rapes as the result of emotional turmoil has almost no hope of understanding and constructive help. Theon Wright, in "Rape in Paradise" sums up the true significance of this confusing situation:Both crime and justice are parts of civilized society. Crime is inevitable; it is a breakdown or fault in the orderly processes of society and will exist as long as societies are made up of human beings. Justice is the effort of society to repair the fault. Crime is to be expected, since humans are never perfect; but the failure of justice may be more damaging than crime itself. It may indicate a fundamental breakdown in the society that permitted the crime. This is, of course, the most frightening aspect of the fact that rape is committed in the first place and then becomes the subject of so much legal confusion. It is difficult to accept that anything short of total revision of the criminal code would alleviate the legal problems connected with rape. In addition it seems apparent that the socialization of our young people is ineffective if it can produce so many who are so hostile and contemptuous of women that they resort to forcible rape as a behavior mode.
An examination of some of the ramifications of the act of sexual aggression and some of it's consequences for both it's assailant and victim reveal serious problems both in individual personality development in our society and in the legal code that theoretically protects us from socialization failures.
For many victims of these failures, the larger implications are lost in the moment of violation. However, it is no less terrifying to consider some of these larger implications in terms of their meaning and commentary on our society as a whole.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Buisson, Linda. "Nice Girls Do Get Raped,"
Los Angeles Free Press, October 26, 1973.
Gebhard, Paul H. et al. Sex Offenders: An Analysis of Types.
New York: Harper & Row, 1965.
Kinsey, Alfred C. and associates. Sexual Behavior in the Human Male.
Philadelphia: W. B. Saunders Co. , 1948.
Krafft-Ebbing, Richard von. Psychopathia Sexualis.
New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1965.
Loth, David. Crime in the Suburbs.
New York: William Morrow & Co. , 1967.
Piers, Gebhart, and Singer, Milton B. Shame and Guilt.
New York: W. W. Norton & Co. , 1971.
Saul, Leon J. The Hostile Mind.
New York: Random House, 1956.
Shultz, Gladys Denny. How Many More Victims: Society and the Sex Criminal.
