Nearly twenty-five years have passed since the American public was rocked by the publication of a novel called The Blackboard Jungle. Despite the fact that the puritanical censorship laws of the time did not permit the author of this history making novel to tell his story in all its real horror, the book did contain scenes of vicious crime and undisguised sexual violence which successfully shocked an entire generation into a new awareness of the bloody turmoil at the heart of the modern metropolis. The comfortable middle-class reader did not want to believe that young female teachers could be raped and murdered in their own classrooms, but at the time there was plenty of solid evidence that The Blackboard Jungle was not a morbid fantasy or science fiction, but a stunningly, realistic portrait of actual life in a secondary school located in the middle of a slum.
A nation can have a multitude of troubles in twenty-five years, and the United States has had more than its share in the last quarter century. Two wars and countless international crises, a nationwide drug menace, economic woes arid generational guerrilla warfare all helped to crowd The Blackboard Jungle off the front pages and middle-class citizens tended either to forget completely about the plight of the big city slum school, or to assume that some efficient governmental agency had stepped in and corrected the situation. Little was heard of the ruthless adolescent gangs which had dominated the streets and alleys during the fifties, and the average resident of the peaceful suburbs was beginning to forget that they had ever existed. The Blackboard Jungle was on its way to becoming a bad dream in the historical memory of the American People.
Thus, for the publishers, it was almost an unpleasant shock to receive the manuscript of Classroom Rape. True, this particular author had a solid reputation as an in-depth reporter on the social and sexual problems of modern America, and his expertise as a creator of fiction had been demonstrated in a half-a-dozen well received books on a variety of contemporary subjects. But it seemed impossible that anyone today would take the trouble to go back into the slum and look to see if the blackboard still stood in the midst of the jungle or if indeed the jungle was still there at all! Surely this was now all ancient history!
But in the pages of this absorbing, passionately written novel, the publishers found that the unpleasant shock was precisely this: Mr. Scott had picked up where The Blackboard Jungle left off, plunging even farther into the depths of what happens in a high school which stands in the midst of the ruins of what used to be a city. Ancient history? Look again, reader, our author is talking about current events, things which happened yesterday, are happening right now, and will probably happen again tomorrow.
Naturally, Mr. Scott's description of gang violence and sexual rapacity could have been expressed in the dry, colorless terms of the sociologist or urban planner. Statistics might have been quoted to show downward trends in adolescent morality or rising rates of crime among students and the result would have been a sober, responsible book which almost no one would have wanted to read. Instead, our author has written a brilliantly imaginative novel describing the explosive sexual tension between three people: A young and sexually attractive female teacher who is facing her first year of work in the city's roughest school; a mild-mannered English instructor who is battling to bring some semblance of civilization and humanity to the wild slum in which he grew up; and a hoodlum with a high I.Q. whom both teachers are trying to turn into a decent human being. The tension is high in quality and intensely sensual in nature. Both of the men involved are in some way in love with the woman; Phil Matthews, the English teacher, is courting her with sensible advice and tickets to the theater, trying desperately to establish his own manhood in the process. Bud Swift, the ex-convict, cannot compete on this level, and is not sure whether he ought to be competing at all. Inside this Hamlet-like character, two forces are at work, slowly and surely tearing the young man in two. Should he concentrate his energies on retaining his reputation as the school's number one tough guy; and go along with a degenerate scheme to kidnap and sexually molest the voluptuous but naive young biology teacher? Or will he opt for the sober dreams laid out for him by Philip Matthews: College, career, respectability, marriage to some nice woman like Miss Kathleen Barton, and a home in the suburbs away from the horror of the slum?
Tragically, he tried to do both, learning too late that in the depths of the slum, there are some choices so profound that one must choose cleanly and without compromise. Swift's momentary indecision turns the world around him into a battlefield, and the disputed terrain is the naked and defenseless body of the young biology teacher, an innocent woman who has wandered mistakenly into a hell.
-The Publishers
PROLOGUE
Kensington Central High School was founded privately in 1820 by the Reverend John Cecil Kensington, a wealthy clergyman of indistinct denomination, whose objective was succinctly stated in the school's constitution as "the providing at a moderate cost of a decent Christian education to the sons of working class members of the neighborhood," a not overly subtle reference to the well-established fact that the area around Kensington was rapidly degenerating into what later generations would callously refer to as a slum. The Reverend Doctor Kensington dished out Christian morality at a moderate cost to the sons of the working class until 1839 when he died and the school was taken over by the city to operate at public expense; and while the good Reverend's Christian morality was no longer included in the curriculum, the tuition was abolished in accordance with a civic ordinance which stipulated that public instruction would be provided free of charge to the "generally underprivileged residents of this area in an effort to raise the general standards of culture and citizenship in the community. "
As the decades rolled by, the neighborhood surrounding Kensington Central staggered under the impact of one set of homeless, impoverished and normally illiterate refugees after another. The thrifty but hard-drinking Germans who had originally settled the area were driven out by a wave of Irishmen who were equally hard-drinking but somewhat less thrifty; these in turn yielded to Italians and a motley assemblage of Central Europeans who stayed for a generation or two before the invasion of American Negroes and Puerto Ricans began. Candidates for mayor of the city routinely promised the voters that "something" should be done about what had come to be called the "Ken Central Problem." but nothing ever seemed to change until the ugly but picturesque wooden building erected by the Reverend Kensington burned or was burned to the ground in 1931 and had to be replaced by a cement building which was equally ugly and resembled an anti-aircraft emplacement in design and appearance. In 1939, a city councilman introduced a bill calling for the abolition of Kensington Central as a school and the conversion of the building into a jailhouse. The motion was defeated by two votes. In 1952, the local city police station was assigned two extra patrolmen since it was found necessary to maintain a minimum of two men on duty during school hours for the protection of female students and faculty from juvenile delinquents. After the mayoral elections in that same unfortunate year, Kensington's principal was found guilty of having certain moral defects in his character as far as his relations with little boys were concerned and was replaced by a more righteous man, Herman Parsons, who knew virtually nothing about the administration of a large metropolitan school but had married the mayor's ugly daughter, this in one masterful stroke demonstrating himself to be a loyal party man and a practicing heterosexual. Mark Hanson, who had been for one season a talked' about quarterback for a professional football team, took over Kensington's Physical Education program in 1967, starting the school on its way to a long way to a long string of football championships in the city-wide competitions. He was joined the following year by Philip Matthews, M.A., whose poetry had appeared in several women's magazines, but beyond Hanson and Matthews ( who hated each other) the faculty was totally undistinguished.
In 1972, Kensington mourned the passing of Wanda Billings, who had taught biology at Kensington for nearly a half century without having once mentioned the word "sex" and the Board of Education assigned Miss Kathleen Barton to fill the vacancy. Due to an administrative error. Miss Barton reported for her first teaching assignment after graduation from college a week after classes had already begun.
* * *
CHAPTER ONE
"Hey Bud, we got Biology class this afternoon?"
Bud Swift stretched lazily in his seat and glanced at his watch, ignoring the history teacher who continued to lecture in the front of the room despite the fact that almost no one was paying attention.
"Guess not," he replied contentedly. "The new teach isn't in yet, and we ain't got football practice either. Might as well split, eh?"
"Got a better idea," confided the other student, a tall rugged youth of about eighteen with a knife scar on the side of his face. "You know that little sophomore chick we was talkin' to last night after class? The cute one with the nice little tits?"
"Yeah, I remember her," breathed Bud Swift, exhaling slowly as he pictured the girl in his mind. At twenty-one, Swift was the oldest student at Kensington, a man who had been to prison twice and was generally believed to have committed one undetected murder, a fact which gave him considerable status among the students. "So what?"
"I noticed that every night she hangs around the school in the library until everybody else splits and then goes down to the gym for a shower. I hear her old man kicked her out of the house and she's sleeping at a friend's place, but I guess they ain't got a bathtub."
"So what are we supposed to do? Go down and hold her towel for her?"
"Something like that. She should be honored to split a shower with a couple of football heroes."
"You know, Tony, hanging around with me is improving your mind," responded Bud after a moment's consideration. "I guess we'll just amble on down to the Ladies' Locker Room after class and see what happens."
* * *
On the door to the office, a sign announced: Mr. Mark Hanson, Chairman, Biology Department, and inside there were two men drinking cold beer from a refrigerator which Hanson kept for that purpose in the corner of the room. Hanson, himself, was feeling vaguely ill at ease, knowing that the replacement for Mrs. Billings was due to report in sometime today, and wondering how much trouble the new teacher would turn out to be. Women teachers who came to Kensington always turned out to be catastrophically ugly for some reason, so there was little probability of sexual interest, and furthermore, Hanson disliked them as a group because they were always incapable of controlling their classes, which usually meant more trouble for him.
"Probably be forty-seven and weigh two hundred pounds," he commented to Jack Flanigan, a science teacher who was sucking morosely on his beer, having his own problems to think about. There were chemicals missing from the laboratory, and Flanigan knew just enough about chemistry to entertain the vague suspicion that the thief may have stolen them with the creation of a bomb in mind. If the chemicals could be traced after the explosion, he was going to be in hot water . . .
"Hey, who was that?" the science teacher said suddenly, snapping quickly out of his melancholy day dreams and staring out through the half-opened door into the corridor. "That broad who just walked by with Phil Matthews?"
"I saw her, I saw her," exclaimed Mark Hanson irritably, setting his beer bottle on the table, and rushing to the door only to find that Matthews and the woman had disappeared around the corner. "Must be the latest Miss America or a visiting beauty queen. Wow! Did you see those tits? Anybody else would get her the hell out of here and back to his apartment, but Matthews is probably showing her the cafeteria and mouthing off about his damn poetry. Wonder who she is?"
"Hey, she couldn't be your new biology teacher, could she?" wondered Flanigan hopefully.
"Sure, sure, can you see the Board of Education sending a piece of ass like that into this place? Those kids would murder her the second day!" Hanson threw his big body back into his easy chair and put the can of beer up to his lips. "And anyway, what would she be doing with Matthews? He's in the English Department."
"No idea, chum. But, man, what a body! What's Matthews got that I haven't got more of?" complained the science teacher bitterly.
"The little queer! As if he'd know what to do with a broad like that!" grumbled Hanson.
"I'll drink to that," said Flanigan.
* * *
Actually, the two young teachers did not make a bad looking couple as they paced through the empty halls of Kensington Central High School, their footsteps echoing behind them as they walked. Philip Matthews was clearly no heroic muscleman, but a careful second glance informed the observer clearly that he was not precisely a ninety-seven pound weakling either, despite his thick glasses and absent-minded studious look. His features were regular despite a broken nose, and he talked well, gesticulating frequently with his hands as he explained to the newcomer what the real problems at Kensington were, leading her from the library down to the student cafeteria.
To an inexperienced eye, Miss Kathleen Barton seemed at first to be merely a youngish version of the standard high school biology teacher. She was slender even to the point of being a little frail. Her clothes were as squarely conservative as the hideous black horn-rimmed glasses she wore. Her long brown hair swept back severely, the young woman nodded as she listened to Phil Matthew's explanations, her intelligent brown eyes darting actively around her as she surveyed for the first time the school in which the school board had decided she would teach.
But a second glance at the lovely brunette teacher would tell a different story altogether. Without her glasses and with another hair-do, any man on earth would have found her face extremely attractive, but his gaze would soon have ventured farther down to discover that her old-maidish clothing did an inadequate job of concealing a body which was little short of fantastic. Despite having been anchored down by the most robust brassiere she could find, Miss Barton's full sensuous breasts swayed provocatively as she walked, and there was no way of disguising the fact that they were unusually large and high-set for her slender curvaceous frame. Hanging unfashionably to her knees, her skirt made a valiant effort at concealing the fact that her legs belonged on the cover of a glamour magazine. There seems to be an inexorable law of nature which insists that women who are pleasantly big in front must inevitably be unpleasantly big behind, but Kathy Barton seemed to be a striking exception to this rule, a fact that not even the serious-minded Philip Matthews could overlook.
"Yes, I can see you have some very difficult problems," Miss Barton was saying as the two teachers surveyed the gigantic but empty cafeteria. "I would certainly hate the idea of having a policeman standing at the back of my classroom, but I honestly don't know what I'd do if there was trouble . . . "
"Well, practically speaking, there's a buzzer under your desk which you can press if things should get out of hand," Phil reminded her. "It rings in the principal's office and theoretically anyone there is supposed to come running to your assistance, I've seldom come up against anything I couldn't more or less handle, but I'm not going to pretend to you that every class I teach is a huge success. Pushing poetry at these kids isn't the easiest thing in the world. Half of them can't even speak English."
"Oh golly, I love poetry," enthused Kathy, frankly happy to find a fellow teacher on the faculty who seemed bright and interesting. Kensington had a terrible reputation among the city's secondary schools, and she had heard as a student that most of the teachers employed there were people barely qualified to hold their jobs who stayed on simply because they could not find positions anywhere else. The school was located smack in the middle of one of the largest and most violent slums to be found anywhere in the Western Hemisphere, and every social problem which existed anywhere positively flourished at Kensington. According to what Phil Matthews had told her, some students were already drug addicts; pregnancies and abortions among female students were routine; prostitution and homosexuality were both rampant, and racial problems caused violence on an every day basis. Since she had finished college on a full tuition scholarship, Kathy Barton had been obligated under the terms of her contract with the city to teach for at least one year wherever the school board decided she was most needed. And it happened that there was a vacancy in the Biology Department here at Kensington, so she had obediently reported for duty. But she was not happy about it.
"Speaking about the principal," she inquired, not knowing exactly how sensitive a question this was. "What kind of man is Mr. Parsons?"
Phil Matthews hesitated for a moment before replying, apparently not yet sure just how far this new young teacher could be trusted. She seemed intelligent and anxious to do a good job as a teacher, but on the other hand she was barely older than some of the students; in any event, she was far too frail and inexperienced to be teaching in a cesspool like Kensington where some of the older boys had already done time in the state prison. But ultimately he decided that she deserved an honest answer.
"Mr. Parsons and I are not in agreement about much of anything," he confessed frankly. "I've never been sure exactly what he does all day except sit in his air-conditioned office, keep anybody like me from looking at the school's accounts, and send for the cops whenever there's trouble. If anybody runs the school, it's your boss, Mark Hanson."
"Mr. Hanson?" replied the young woman in surprise. "Why is he my boss? I thought he was the ex-football player in charge of physical education and coaching the football team."
"That's precisely what he does do," answered Matthews bitterly, "but he is also head of the
Biology Department and your boss, although he doesn't know much of anything about the subject and never teaches any of the classes. Three years ago, some genius decided that gym had to be part of some academic department and so it wound up under Biology. There's another rule which says that the senior teacher in every department is the chairman, and Hanson's been around longer than anyone else, so he became the chairman. I once made myself unpopular at a faculty meeting by opposing it, but with both Parsons and Hanson against me, there wasn't much to be done. Well, anyway, this is the cafeteria. Let's see what else I should show you . . . we've looked at the library . . . "
"Of course, I'll want to spend a little more time there tomorrow," Kathy put in. "I need to see exactly what's available for my students in Biology."
"You'll find there aren't many books there on much of anything. We seem to have all the money we need for football equipment, but try to get a couple of bucks out of Mr. Parsons for anything as dull as a textbook and you'll have a real argument on your hands. Come on, I'll show you the gymnasium. We may not have many books in our library, and the Chairman of the Biology Department may not know a chromosome from a mongoose, but we have one hell of a good gym, thanks to Mark Hanson and our marvelous championship football team."
"Tell me, why do you stay here? You could get a job someplace else, couldn't you?" asked the girl as they walked down the staircase towards the gym.
"Sure," he responded. "In fact, I teach a night course in poetry at the college downtown, and they've offered to hire me as an Assistant Professor of English on their regular staff. I've been thinking about accepting, but somehow I feel that there's a job to be done here. The reason why Kensington is in the rotten shape it's in is because most competent people won't work here and the few good teachers we do get like yourself leave as soon as they possibly can. Just like you will as soon as your contract expires."
"Well, I don't know that's true," responded Kathy, a little hurt by the blunt accusation. "I might find there's a job for me here as well. I took a course in teaching underprivileged children once."
"Well, you're going to need everything you've got, Miss Barton," the English teacher told her sincerely. "Someone as attractive as you are is going to have problems with the older boys . . . Anyway, this is the gym. Mr. Hanson's Paradise."
"Well, it looks like every other gym I ever saw . . . " She paused, a look of concern crossing her face. "What was that noise?"
"It sounded like a girl," answered Phil Matthews, his body going rigid at the high anguished scream of a young female voice. "A girl who's being hurt. Damn, I bet all the cops have gone off duty . . . "
"It came from in there," cried Kathy urgently. "Come on, shouldn't we see what's happening?"
"That's the woman's locker room," replied
Matthews dubiously, taking a few hesitant steps in that direction as Kathy Barton tugged on his ".rm. "Maybe we should go for help . . . "
"Well, you do what you want!" the young woman flared at him, angered at his reluctance to take some action. "I'm going to see what's happening in there!"
Aware that Matthews was a few steps behind her, Kathy hurried to the door, hearing a girl's voice groaning inside, and now totally sure that she was being abused in some fashion. Her hand was on the door knob when Matthews caught up with her.
"Wait a minute," he whispered. "If there's some rough stuff going on in there, let's be a little cautious and look before we leap."
It struck Kathy as a little cowardly to be so careful under the circumstances, but she decided that Phil Matthews had more experience in these matters and stepped submissively aside while he cautiously and silently opened the door to the locker room. The scene which met their eyes stunned the two of them into immobility.
There were two men and one young girl in the locker room, all three of them naked, and no one seemed to be aware of the presence of the two teachers half-hidden behind the door. The girl lay helplessly on the floor, a nasty bruise along one side of her face as if she had just been struck, a thin trickle of blood coming from her cracked lip, and she was cowering helplessly beneath a tall black-haired man who stood threateningly over her, her hands upraised as if she were pleading for mercy.
"Come on, baby, up on your knees," the young man smiled menacingly down at her. "I want to see those sweet lips of yours go to work."
"That's it, Bud," said the other student, a huge muscleman with a knife scar on his face. "And when she's through with you, I got something here for her, too."
Kathy's frightened eyes swept over the man called Bud, fear settling in deep as she realized that this was more trouble than she had bargained for. He was well over six foot in height and burly, like a wrestler or a professional football player, but he was obviously only in his early twenties, about her own age, and the English he used was precise and well-pronounced. Could this possibly be a student?
"Jus' don't hit me, Bud," the tormented adolescent girl pleaded, getting slowly to her knees as ordered. "I'll do anything you want if you don't hurt me."
As the young girl spoke, Kathy's eyes switched momentarily to her nakedly glistening body. Her taut, well tanned skin was still wet, and it was clear that the two thugs had surprised her coming out of the shower, stealing into the girl's locker room after the other students had left the premises for the day. She was very young, probably no more than fifteen, but her body was already mature and well-developed, and her two ripely succulent breasts protruded sharply from her chest like two firm little pears. Below, her waist was narrow and sensual, spreading gracefully into full womanly hips. Her brown skin indicated that she was Latin in ancestry, the type of female who reaches the peak of her beauty in her mid-teens. In her black eyes there was both anger and fear, in about equal proportions, but it seemed obvious that she was helpless in the hands of these two nakedly lusting monsters.
It was also uncomfortably clear to Kathy that she and Phil Matthews were not really enough to tip the scales in the girl's favor. Matthews was about thirty and probably weighed one hundred and forty pounds or so, but did not look like the type to tackle two heavy-weights like these. For a moment, there seemed to be nothing much they could do, and Kathy felt the other teacher's arm slip protectively around her as the two of them huddled fearfully behind the door, waiting to see what would happen next.
The teenage girl was groveling at the feet of the man called Bud, a horrified shudder running through her nakedly abused body as she realized what they were going to make her do. The man's hands snaked down crudely, invading the young girl's soft dark hair, and he pulled her roughly up into a kneeling position, her trembling lips only inches away from the monstrously long pole of flesh which jutted out from his groin. The terrified girl grimaced at the sight, but the young thug gave her no opportunity to voice any further complaints as he took the warm moist head of his cock and rubbed it lewdly around the edges of her trembling lips.
"You know what to do, girlie, and don't pretend you don't," Bud hissed at her, a callous smile spreading over his broad handsome face as he looked down at the helpless female crouched so fearfully at his feet. "Get that mouth open and start sucking before I slap the shit out of you."
Kathy gripped Phil's hand urgently, but the other school teacher restrained her, indicating by his behavior that she was to stay where she was and not move. Fascination battled with fright within the young teacher's mind as she watched the student girl slowly comply with Bud's criminal demands, her glistening red lips dropping hopelessly open in submissive obedience. With a brutal chuckle, the young man flicked his hips expertly forward, ramming his thick bulbous instrument directly into the unnatural sanctuary of her mouth. The girl gurgled and choked a little as she tried to adjust to this new and depraved presence in her mouth, instinctively closing her ovaled red lips around the man's rigid shaft.
In her limited sexual experience, Kathy Barton had heard talk of this bizarre and unnatural sex act, but she had never before actually witnessed it, and she shivered with a strange combination of indignation and excitement watching the subjugated teenager slave over the man's jutting penis, using her tongue to lash back and forth across the moist, plum colored cock-head.
"Come on, kid, we ain't got all day. Start sucking. Yeh . . . that's it. Harder now," snarled Bud, seizing the submissively sucking student by her long black hair and thrusting even more powerfully into her bobbing head. The two observers hidden behind the door could see the girl's cheeks hollowing in abruptly as she struggled to obey this depraved new order, the man's hips now beginning to thrust back and forth wildly as he moaned one obscene phrase after another, exciting himself more and more by the minute as he fucked savagely into her ovaled little mouth.
Kathy Barton was several years past losing her virginity and, having slept with two boys during her college days, she considered herself a very modern young lady as far as sex was concerned, but this erotically bizarre scene was a long way out of her league and she found her body trembling furiously as she watched. For one thing, nothing in her own private experience had prepared her for a penis as large as the one she was seeing before her now. Bud's long thick cock seemed enormous, and Kathy caught herself imagining what it would feel like to have something as big as that sliding obscenely back and forth along the surface of her tongue. To her surprise, the thought of being vilely abused in this perverted fashion was almost as exciting as it was repelling, and she wished desperately that fate had not made her a witness to this degenerate spectacle.
The other student, whom Kathy had mentally named, "Scarface," had now moved in close behind the wildly sucking adolescent girl, unable to hold himself back any longer. His own cock was thick and rigid with obvious sexual frenzy as his hands roamed lewdly over the tortured teenager's splendid young body, paying special homage to the tightly clenched cheeks of her smooth round buttocks. While his colleague fucked brutally in and out of the girl's tormented mouth, "Scarface" amused himself by poking and prodding up between her legs, tugging at the small dark tufts of pussy hair, and allowing his idle fingers to stray lasciviously into the enticing crevice of her vagina.
With a sudden shock, Kathy realized that the captive teenager was now doing her level best to please Bud, sucking away as if her life depended upon it, the strained features of her pretty young face bobbing violently up and down as she struggled to suck him dry. Bud groaned and gyrated above her like a king in ecstasy, sputtering obscenity after obscenity down on the girl's nakedly squirming young body while "Scarface" entertained himself with her soft pliant flesh running his lips vilely down over the yielding half-moons of her buttocks, his thick hungry tongue washing lewdly over her trembling ass-cheeks.
"What should we do?" whispered Kathy desperately, seeing that in another minute or two, Bud would begin spewing his obscenely ejaculating cum down into the girl's helpless throat, and knowing that they would have to act quickly if they were going to spare the trembling young student from the ultimate humiliation of having her mouth used as a repository for the man's vile sperm.
"Nothing," Matthews murmured in an undertone. "Those two are capable of anything . . . we'd better try to sneak away . . . "
But Kathy Barton was outraged at the idea of another woman being abused in this degenerate fashion, and she was having none of this timidity. Suddenly breaking free of Matthews's hold on her, she stalked boldly into the room. If these were students, then she had a right and a duty to stop them! Certainly they would not dare raise a hand against a teacher . . .
"All right, stop that immediately!" she shouted, trying to make her voice firm and authoritative, but dismayed to hear it come out sounding squeaky and hesitant.
"Who the fuck are you?" gasped Bud in amazement, stopping what he was doing out of sheer astonishment, but making no move to withdraw his thick bulging cock from the young girl's tormented mouth.
"I am Miss Barton," announced Kathy with all the dignity she could muster, but realizing that the mere mention of her name was unlikely to have any particular effect upon him and wondering why Phil Matthews was not backing her up with his masculine authority. Or had he fled in terror, the contemptible weakling!
She looked around quickly, half-expecting to find herself alone, but Matthews had not run away, although it was clear from the expression on his face that he would prefer to be somewhere else.
"Fellas, you know better than to pull a stunt like that," Phil began lamely, but Bud cut him off quickly, yanking himself free of the terrorized girl and striding boldly towards the two teachers, his saliva-coated cock still rigid and waving before him like a flag of battle.
"Listen, Matthews," he snarled, "I don't know who this stupid dame is, but if you want to make anything out of this, you're going to find yourself in more trouble than you know how to handle . . . "
"You filthy beast!" Kathy found herself screaming, nervously taking a few steps backwards as Bud advanced menacingly towards them. "You . . . you . . . I'll see you in jail . . . "
"Matthews, who the fuck is this dizzy dame?" demanded the tall muscular young man, now more mystified than angered.
"An excellent question," came the harsh strident voice of Mark Hanson as he strolled angrily into the locker room behind them, his presence only adding to the confusion. "I thought I heard noise down here!"
For a moment, there was utter chaos. The ravaged young student girl was crawling nakedly around on the damp tile floor of the room searching desperately for her clothing, her perky young breasts swaying sensuously beneath her, while Bud and the other student alternated between shouting at Matthews and picking up their own discarded clothing in disgust. Phil Matthews seemed to be overwhelmed by the noise and threats of physical violence, backing into a corner and defending himself in a high-pitched voice while Kathy continued to shriek at Bud, assuring him that he was both a pig and a swine.
"All right, everyone SHUT UP!" Hanson finally thundered. "Okay, lady, I know everybody else, but who in hell are you?" he asked as soon as the room subsided into silence.
"I am Kathleen Barton," the young woman responded with as much dignity as she could summon up for the occasion, "the new biology teacher."
"Well for Christ's sake, the Board of Education finally sent me a beauty queen!" the gym teacher grinned at her vulgarly. "But aren't you a little new around here to start enforcing discipline?"
"Well, you have no idea what Mr. Matthews and I found when we walked in here a few minutes ago . . . "
"Ah yeah, that raises another question. Matthews, what the hell were you doing in the girls' locker room? Getting tired of reading poetry?"
"Now wait a minute, Mark," Phil Matthews rejoined weakly, "I was showing Miss Barton the school, and we heard a noise. And I'd like to know what these two male students were doing in here!"
"After the close of school hours, the gym belongs to members of the football team," responded Hanson bluntly. "They had every right to be here. Probably stopped in for a drink of water after working out. Right fellas?"
"Yeah," chimed in Bud, seeing that Hanson was preparing to back him all the way. "We just wandered in for a drink of water, and found this chick coming out of the shower, and she starts screaming, and then these two come busting in.. . -i. "
Hanson turned coldly to face the sexually abused girl who had managed to cover most of her body and was now cowering timidly behind a locker. "Now you don't mean to tell me that these two first-string members of my varsity football team attacked you, do you? A very serious charge, I would say!"
"No sir," the girl quavered, avoiding Kathy's eyes. "No, it was all a mistake, Mr. Hanson. They didn't bother me none. We were just fooling around."
"Of course. I would guess that you misinterpreted what you saw, Miss Barton, and I'll have to ask you to be more cautious in the future. Also, I'd like to see you in my office at ten tomorrow for your class assignments."
"But . . . but, tell him, Mr. Matthews," exclaimed the female teacher, unable to believe that the brutal attempted rape of a young defenseless young girl was simply going to be swept under the rug and forgotten.
"It's no use," Matthews said in a defeated tone of voice. "He knows perfectly well what happened, and he's just decided that it didn't happen. In this place, a football player can do no wrong! Let's get out of here."
"Better stick to poetry from now on, Phil!" called the gym teacher arrogantly while the two football players roared with laughter. Kathy Barton felt a humiliated flush sweeping over her cheeks, and the two teachers were half-way across the gym before she realized that she was still clinging desperatly to Phil Matthews' arm, her fragile body trembling like a leaf.
CHAPTER TWO
"Mr. Matthews, you may be a very good English teacher, but you are not the bravest man I have ever known."
The two young teachers were sitting in a pleasant tea room across the street from the school, splitting a pot of tea, and Phil Matthews failed to react angrily to Kathleen Barton's insulting comment.
"No, I guess I'm probably not," he responded quietly, gazing intently into his tea cup as if he were looking amongst the tea leaves at the bottom for the answer to his questions. "Ever morning when I get out of bed, I have to sum up all the courage I own just to walk into that jungle of madness. It doesn't leave much courage left over for emergencies, but I have learned from painful experience what a couple of hefty footballs players can do to one skinny poet. I wasn't born with a crooked nose, you know," he added, tapping his slightly deviated septum with the tip of his finger. "This was a farewell present from one of my former students who objected to being given a failing grade in Junior English just because he never bothered to learn how to read."
"I'm sorry," she apologized, now seeing the situation in a new light. This slender timid man had spent seven years teaching at Kensington; it must have taken some courage just to have survived. "It's just that seeing what those two brutes were doing to that poor innocent defenseless girl . . . "
"Don't waste too much sympathy on her," remarked Matthews leaning back in his chair and lighting a cigarette. "The boys probably only slapped her around because she objected to doing it for free."
"You mean . . . "
"I mean she's undoubtedly done it before, Kathy. Don't be naive! At Kensington, the only virgins are on the faculty. These kids are thoroughly corrupted in every way by the time they finish eighth grade, and some of them are hardened criminals. Take Bud Swift for example."
"You mean the one who was. . . you know . . . with that girl?"
"Right, although I would expect a biologist to know the scientific name for what he was doing to her. Anyway, Swift is twenty-one and has already served two years in prison for armed robbery and assault. He was released on parole on the condition that he complete his high school education, which is why we have the pleasure of his company."
"But.. . " Kathy sputtered indignantly, "the government has no right to send us their problems. Kensington is a school, not a reformatory!"
"Well, in Bud's case, I'm glad they released him, although after today's episode, I don't know how much influence I'm going to be able to have on him. Pity, he was coming along so well. I even hoped to get him into the community college next September."
"You mean, you think it's possible to teach English literature to a mug, a monster like him?" Kathy asked in dismay.
"When Bud Swift reported in, we checked his I.Q., " Matthews reported quietly. "He tested out at 147, which is just short of the genius level. Having been born of a poor family or even being a criminal doesn't necessarily make a person stupid, Kathy. Although it can sure make you mean, which Bud certainly is. Some days though, in class, there are times when he seems consumed with interest, absolutely peppering you with one intelligent question after another. There are also days, unfortunately, when he disrupts the entire class. Well, you'll find all about Bud Swift soon enough. He's in your senior biology class."
"What!" the girl almost came out of her seat with horror at the idea. "You mean I have to face him every day in class with both of us knowing about what happened?"
"I'm afraid so," shrugged the English teacher helplessly. "Not much of anything we can do about it. Hanson's in charge of your class schedule."
"Oh Phil," she moaned in despair. "I don't know if I can go through with this whole business. I've got to stay here for a year, and I know already I can't control people like Bud Swift. Why he's practically my age, and he must know ten times more about life than I do . . . Oh, Christ! What can I do?"
Phil Matthews gazed at her penetratingly for a few minutes, seriously considering her problem. He had realized from the moment he had first seen her that the students would walk all over her, particularly the older boys who would instantly see through her "school-marm" disguise and detect that underneath she was a perfectly gorgeous but very vulnerable young woman.
"Okay, here's an idea which you can take or leave," he proposed to her frankly. "These are very sex-conscious young men, and as you noticed, some of them are almost as old as you are. If you walk in there dressed like your own grandmother, they'll all sense that you're trying to make yourself into something you're not. Why not try reverse psychology? Put on a miniskirt and a scoop-necked blouse and let them see you for exactly what you are: A sensationally beautiful young woman."
"Thanks for all the compliments," responded the biology teacher acidly. "But that sounds like a recipe for getting me raped. I dressed up in my granny clothes, hoping the kids would think of me as their teacher and not a sex object."
"Forget it! If a thirty year old confirmed bachelor like me can see through your little disguise, those hot pants eighteen year old kids are going to do the same thing in half the time. Your only hope is to dazzle them sufficiently so that they fall all over themselves trying to act like gentlemen. Of course, all the boys will be madly in love with you in a week, and you'll be propositioned, but I don't think we've gotten to the point where a woman teacher can be raped in class. As long as I or some other man escorts you out of the neighborhood every night, you should be okay. And just remember there's a buzzer under your desk. Touch it and two cops come in on the double!"
"Oh God, I wish I were just a happy student again," the girl moaned miserably. "I'm scared already."
"So am I. Come on, I'll run you home in my car."
* * *
Bud Swift back-pedaled skillfully as the junior varsity team managed to break through the varsity line in several places and come scrambling towards him. None of his pass receivers were in the clear as yet, and his fast-moving mind computed that he had only a second or two to make his play before the rushing guards nailed him. Feinting to his left, he threw a huge sophomore tackle off-balance, and then dodged agilely down the middle of the field, brutally stiff-arming a junior safety man who tried in vain to intercept him. From there on, it was child's play and as he sailed across the touchdown line, Coach Hanson blew the whistle signaling the end of football practice for the day.
"You're a natural, kid," said the Phys. Ed. instructor, slapping his star-quarterback across his meaty shoulders as the two of them walked slowly towards the showers. "Play like that during the regular season, and you'll be picked up by a pro team the moment you're out of school."
"I don't know, Mr. Hanson," the youth responded as he unbuckled his helmet and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. "Phil Matthews keeps saying he can get me into college next year, and I'm thinking about it."
"Listen kid, don't pay any attention to that jerk unless you want to turn into a poetry-quoting jackass like him! You're twenty-one now, and if you even enroll in college, that's four more years down the drain as far as the pro-clubs are concerned. Who wants a twenty-six year old rookie? Nobody! Listen, forget about that little fink Matthews, and listen to a man who's played in the big leagues!"
For one short year you played. Swift was thinking sarcastically, but he said nothing, understanding the reason behind Hanson's special hatred for Phil Matthews. Everybody in the school had heard by now about the scene which had occurred when Miss Barton had reported to him for her class assignments. To everyone's surprise, she had waltzed into school for her first day of teaching wearing a miniskirt which was just about as short as the dresses normally worn by the girls in class, and those long trimly shaped legs had really been worth looking at, not to mention her beautiful bouncing breasts which were partially revealed every time she bent over in her rather low-cut frilly blouse.
Naturally, his masculine ego inflated to the bursting point, Mark Hanson had promptly decided that all of this was meant for him, and he had made a vulgar pass at her, kicking the door shut and putting one hand boldly on her sumptuously inviting breast while the other arm encircled her waist. A crash and an outraged cry of pain had been heard clearly in the hall and Hanson was now sporting a pair of dark sun glasses. Informed opinion among the students held that the sun glasses were intended to hide a black eye, but no one knew for sure, since the Physical Education teacher rarely left his office except for football practice. To make matters worse, the pretty young teacher had apparently taken a liking to "that little queer" Matthews, who waited for her each day after classes were finished and evidently took her home.
"Hey, by the way," Hanson remarked suddenly, making an effort to seem nonchalant, "how is Miss Big-Tits making out? You're in her senior biology class aren't you?"
"Yeah," responded the ex-convict, an image of the gorgeous new teacher floating tormentingly across his mind as he paused at the entrance to the showers. "Yeah, she's doing okay, I guess."
"Huh? You mean nobody's fooled around with her yet?" asked Hanson in amazement.
"Shit no, Mr. Hanson! Everybody just sits, there and looks at her!" exclaimed the young man frankly. "It's a great class! She makes everything real interesting, and with a dame like that talking, who can help listening? I think I'll take another course in biology, if I can get into college."
Hanson nodded, attempting to hide his irritation, watching as Swift trotted off the field. The coach spent another five minutes talking to a skinny junior varsity end who was complaining about aches and pains. Later, as Hanson walked toward the locker room, he began to feel irritated again. The situation with Kathy Barton was an entirely unexpected twist of events, and the football coach was not at all happy with the way things were going. As Mrs. Billings' replacement, he had expected some incompetent middle-aged female who would be nothing more or less than a bore and a nuisance, but the appearance of a desirable young woman like Miss Barton was upsetting the very delicate equilibrium on which Hanson depended to maintain his control over the school. The possibility of his getting any personal sex-pleasure out of her seemed to have gone out the window when her knuckles had crashed unexpectedly into his right eye a few days ago, and he knew that word of the incident had already leaked out to the students, lowering his prestige in the school. On top of that she had apparently managed to find a way of keeping her classes quiet and interested which deprived Hanson of any reasonable excuse for taking direct action against her. Worst of all, however, was the fact that she was better qualified scholastically than anyone else in the Biology Department, which could mean that she and Matthews would soon enough take it into their heads to try to replace him as the chairman of the Department. A departmental chairman had very little extra to do and was paid twelve hundred dollars a year above his regular salary for his services, and if the case went to the school board at the end of the year, he could very easily wind up working for Miss Barton instead of the other way around.
Hanson himself had never quite finished college and if someone took a close look at the record, the Board of Education would be very likely to give the chairmanship to someone who was really qualified as a biologist and knew how to teach the subject! In essence, it all came down to this: One way or another, she had to be sabotaged, and sabotaged fast. Phil Matthews had been quietly working against him for years now, and with this new and good-looking ally, who knew what damage could be done to his position. Even Bud Swift seemed to have been conquered. Kathy Barton had to be eliminated! But how?
"Hi, Coach," came the greeting from the team as Hanson strolled into the locker room. A quick glance informed him that Bud Swift had already showered and left, no doubt off to the library to study biology or some such nonsense.
"Well, boys, what do you think of that piece of ass the School Board sent us? Anybody had a whack at her yet?"
"Ha! Fat chance one of us'd have," came the reply from one of the players. "If you ask me, Mr. Matthews is keeping her busy."
"Now you're making me laugh," chuckled Hanson, making an effort to seem jovial and disinterest. "Matthews wouldn't know what to do with a hot little bitch like that!"
"Well, how 'bout you, Coach?" someone sniggered from the back of the room. "You know what to do with her?"
"Shit, boys, your old coach is pushing forty. From what I hear that little gal likes 'em young. Real young!"
"Hey, no kidding?"
"Yeah, a friend of mine teaches where she went to college," explained Hanson untruthfully. "He told me that she was putting out for high school guys even then. I figure that's why she signed on at Kensington in the first place. Likes a little rough 'n tumble too, from what I hear. Nearly got thrown out of college a year ago when they found her in bed with five guys at once."
"No shit!" It was said in awe.
"Well, of course you can't believe everything you hear about people," the coach philosophized, seeing the effect his words were having on this rough gang of hoodlums. "But from the way she dresses, I'd say she was begging for it!"
* * *
The mattress was filthy, but the girl Marinda did not seem to mind. She had come to this abandoned school room before at Bud Swift's invitation and she would come again as often as he asked her. It bothered her a little to know that the other three members of the gang were sitting in the next room playing cards and gazing in every so often to see how their leader was making out, and it bothered her to know that the moment he was finished with her he would pull on a pair of jeans and walk away without a word, but she voiced no complaints. She was getting what she came for.
"Oh God, that feels nice," she groaned as Bud threw his lean hardened body down on top of her, crushing her ripe young breasts flat against her chest and quickly dropping his torso down between her inviting, widely-stretched legs. Obediently, the girl raised her tender but experienced body up to receive the hotly throbbing penis as it came stabbing into the delicate elastic sheath of her well-educated little cunt. Marinda loved this moment, and she groaned with absolute delight as she felt the virile young gang leader thrust forward, sending his long hard cock all the way up into the wetly welcoming depths of her belly.
Bud Swift closed his eyes, trying to imagine that instead of fucking the always available Marinda, he was really making love to Miss Kathleen Barton, and he started skewering rhythmically in and out of the warm wetness of her tight young cunt, bringing groan after groan to the naked teenager's lips as he pushed farther into her with every vicious stroke. But his imagination was not strong enough, and as he felt her legs crawling up on his back and her fingernails digging into the muscular broad flesh of his shoulders, he had to face the reality of the situation. This was just a broad, a little hot pants junior he had fucked dozens of times before and would surely fuck again, whenever he felt like it.
Marinda always did and said precisely the same things during the two minutes it took her to have an orgasm, and he tried to remember how many times he had done this before.
"Come on, Bud," called Ash from the next room. "You wanna get in this game or don't ya?"
"Oh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Marinda was groaning, and Bud obliged, putting his strong hands beneath the girl's smoothly rounded buttocks and lifting her clear into the air as he pounded into her wetly fluttering cunt like a pile driver.
"Ohhhhhhh, I'm cumming," she groaned dramatically as if this were the first orgasm in the history of mankind, locking her ankles over his shoulders the way she always did, presenting her hair-lined vaginal slit up for him to batter and abuse as he desired.
Bud tried to concentrate on Miss Barton as he felt the great swirls of heat building up inexorably in his groin, informing him that his own climax was just around the corner, but the image of the new biology teacher refused to stick in his mind. He gasped suddenly as the hot sticky sperm suddenly started its mad dash from the innermost recesses of his body, gushing in hot thick waves into the girl's tightly palpitating little cunt, but the orgasm was all physical and there was no joy in it for him. His skin was moist with sweat and cum as he rolled off of her exhausted body, his face set and hard.
"Hey, you wanna do it again, Bud?" she asked him pleadingly.
"Nan, not now Marinda. I got a lot of things on my mind right now," he answered her dully.
"Anything you want, baby," she pleaded, kneeling over him seductively, her hands reaching out to capture his slowly depleting cock, still wetly glistening from her own orgiastic juices. Smiling lecherously, the girl bent over his naked groin, her mouth slowly opening as she lowered her head to take him between her parted lips. "I know you like this."
"Yeah, but not today," he told her flatly, pulling away from her nakedly inviting body. "I got things to think about and you should be doing your homework." Not looking at her anymore, Bud Swift pulled on his dungarees and shuffled out of the room.
* * *
"Look, I can get laid a hundred times a week if I want to," objected Bud, "and with no trouble at all. Why should I take a chance on getting my parole revoked by messing around with a teacher who's liable to scream for the cops?"
The members of the gang looked at each other meaningfully, all wondering if their acknowledged leader was going soft on them. They were the three worst trouble-makers in the school, each of them with police records of one sort or another, but generally protected by Mark Hanson because they were also all members of Kensington's football team. There was Chubs, two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle and fat and an I.Q. of about 87, who stayed in school only because Hanson arranged for him to pass even if just barely all his courses so that he could continue to anchor down the center of Kensington's defensive line. Sprawled in back of him, a cigarette dangling limply from his thin vicious lips was Jose, a skinny, fast-moving end who could dodge around the opponent's defensive flank or hot-wire a car, both with the same split-second timing. And then there was the young man with the knife scar on his cheek, Ash, Bud's favorite pass receiver, who made his living by selling drugs and stayed in school merely because it gave him convenient access to his customers.
"I think somebody's going soft in his old age," commented the drug peddler, looking challengingly at their leader. "Can't remember the last time you got scared of a little fun, Swifty, but I guess maybe you're gonna settle down and be a good boy now, eh. Old Matthews has got you by the balls and he's gonna make a college boy outta you. Right?"
"Listen you punks," Bud snapped back at them, a sensitive nerve touched by Ash's accusation. "The day Bud Swift backs away from trouble is a day none of you will ever see. Got it?"
"Then what's the problem?" argued Jose, a cruel, sadistic smile playing around his lips. "We ain't even taking no chances, are we? She won't get suspicious if you invite her across the street for a nice cuppa tea, and she ain't gonna think nothing of it when she sees old Chubs here behind the bar puttin' the pot on to boil."
"You sure the stuff'll work?" questioned Bud suspiciously, looking around the room at his three cohorts. The young man was in mental agony, torn between two different worlds and now desperately uncertain where his loyalties lay. These were the kids he had grown up with. They had smoked marijuana together, stolen cars together, gotten arrested together, abused girls together, and he had always been their leader because he was the toughest, the strongest and the meanest.
But now Phil Matthews was tempting him with other ideas, things he had never dreamed of before in his life; going to college, getting a serious job, perhaps as a teacher and maybe . . . just maybe making himself worthy to marry someone like Miss Kathleen Barton, not raping her on a filthy mattress in the corner of an abandoned schoolroom.
Marrying her!
"Why shouldn't it?" answered Ash quickly, interrupting Bud's thoughts. "Chubs'll put in enough to stone an elephant, and this stuff is almost tasteless. Come on, Bud baby, we'll have a ball!"
Another image invaded the young man's mind, overpowering his idle daydreams of rising to a position of respectability in society. He was imagining the proud, high-breasted Miss Barton stretched out naked before him the way Marinda had been a few minutes before, perhaps down on her knees begging him for mercy. The quarterback's cock stirred restlessly in his pants as the fantasy floated by in his mind's eye, and he felt desire welling up inside of him too strongly to be resisted. Somehow, without his help, the boys had come up with an air-tight little scheme. The drug, the camera, the abandoned building, the chat over a cup of tea it all went together like clockwork! And they wanted him to take the lead. If he backed out now, his reputation would be shot to pieces, and he could never command them again. It was now or never! And maybe it was the only way he would ever have Kathleen Barton!
"Tomorrow afternoon, then," he said dully. "You going to swipe a car for the ride over?"
"Natch," affirmed Jose. "Mr. Matthews's."
* * *
"So! I think you should have the basic facts about Charles Darwin in your heads by now," concluded Miss Barton, glancing covertly at her wristwatch and noting gratefully that it was only a minute or two before the last class of the week would be over. "Anyone who is interested in reading more about this fascinating scientist can look at his most famous book, The Origin of Species, or the Voyage of the Beagle, which is the story of a trip Charles Darwin took as a young man through the South Pacific. There are copies of the first book in the library, and anyone who is really interested in the second one may borrow my own copy if he promises to bring it back." As she spoke, Kathy noticed with interest that Bud Swift had made a careful note of this information on the corner of his pad, jotting down the names of both books, albeit misspelling, "Beagle."
He's really interested, the young teacher thought happily as the bell informed her that her first week of teaching was finally over, and he is terribly bright! Imagine, having been in prison and growing up in this awful neighborhood, and he's still making wonderful progress! I wonder if we can possibly get him ready for college by next year?
The room was filled with the noise of books being snapped shut and students eagerly exchanging weekend plans as the class filtered out of the room. Bud Swift stayed where he was, apparently glancing over the notes he had busily taken during her lecture and underlining certain words he wished to remember. Kathy sank down in her seat, weary after a full day of classes, and immensely relieved that her first week as a teacher in this "jungle" of a school had passed without incident. She had experienced a little difficulty in keeping order in some of her other classes, but in general the boys had behaved precisely as Phil Matthews had predicted they would, all trying to outdo one another to get the attention of this attractive new teacher. The senior biology class, which contained most of the football team, had turned out to be the best of all, since Bud Swift turned around in his seat and glared menacingly at anyone who so much as whispered while Miss Barton was talking, having apparently appointed himself her protector in an effort to make up for the dreadful impression he had made upon her five days earlier.
It's true, she assured herself as she slowly gathered her books and papers together and prepared to go to her office where she normally met Phil Matthews after school for her ride home. He's really capable of making something out of his life! There's a good side and a bad side to his character, and Phil and I have got to concentrate on strengthening that good side!
"Ah . . . excuse me, Miss Barton."
Kathy looked up in alarm, realizing that the room was now empty except for the two of them, finding Bud Swift standing uneasily in front of her. Instinctively she reached beneath the desk, feeling for the button which would summon the police should they be needed.
"Gee, don't call the cops, Miss Barton," he grinned, having detected her nervous gesture. "I just wanted to ask you a question about Charles Darwin."
"Oh . . . I wasn't going to.. . " she stammered, now caught thoroughly off guard and embarrassed at having revealed her suspicions. "I was merely . . . frightened for a moment."
"I guess I can understand that, Miss Barton," the young man said respectfully. "I mean, we didn't meet under the best of circumstances. I want you to know that me and Ash apologized to that girl and took her home. It was a crazy thing to do."
"Well, I agree that it was crazy, but I'm not holding it against you, Bud," she managed to say, knowing that she was blushing and unable to do anything about it. "What was it that you wanted to know about Darwin?"
"Well, I didn't quite understand what you said about sexual selectivity," the young man admitted. "I mean, why should a thing like that change the characteristics of a whole species?"
In fact, she had not explained this aspect of Darwin's theory very well, since the moment she had used the word "sex" in class, all the girls had immediately started giggling and Kathy had hurriedly passed over that point, concentrating on the more colorful but less scientific aspects of the scientist's life. It was a fair question, but the answer was a little too complicated to give in a few minutes. She had all the time in the world, but she did not trust Bud Swift quite enough to let him tie her up in a long conversation while the rest of the school emptied out and the two patrolmen on duty returned to the station house. After all . . .
"Listen, they like to get us students out of the building after the classes are over, and I'm not supposed to be here," he volunteered suddenly as if he were reading her mind. "There's a tea house across the street where we could talk if you could possibly spare the time? I'd also like to borrow the book about the Voyage of the Beagle if you'd let me."
Well, he really is interested she thought carefully, and the tea house is a very respectable place for a teacher to chat with a student; in fact, she and Philip Matthews had stopped in there a number of times and it was a clean, well lighted place run by two little old ladies. She would be perfectly safe there, and there was no question in her mind that this was a very interested student. If she were to turn off his questions now, he might lose that interest and an opportunity for improving his mind would be gone, possibly forever.
"All right," she agreed after a moment's hesitation. "I'll meet you there in about ten minutes, okay? I have to run by my office for a moment."
Bud nodded agreeably and disappeared while Kathy tucked her books under her arm and returned to her own office, hoping that the obnoxious Mark Hanson would not be hanging around. He had kept out of her way since she had blackened one of eyes the first day of classes, but she knew that the Phys. Ed. instructor would eventually launch his counter-attack, and she was waiting for the axe to fall.
But the office was empty, and so she scribbled a quick note to Phil Matthews who normally picked her up after school, saying that she was meeting a student for a chat and would take a cab home that night. With the note neatly pinned to the door, she took her purse and left.
* * *
The tea house was really a very nice place considering the neighborhood it was located in and the fact that the waiter who brought them their cups of tea was an enormously big swarthy young man whom Kathy vaguely remembered having seen somewhere once before. Perhaps he's a student, she decided, although he doesn't seem terribly bright. Bud Swift seemed nervous for some reason, but the inexperienced young teacher decided that he was probably afraid that one of his fellow members of the football team would spot him in here drinking tea with a lady teacher and discussing something as intellectual as the theory of evolution, since Bud obviously still valued his reputation as a tough guy.
Kathy laid a sheet of paper out on the table between them, finding that she could explain things better with a pencil in her hand, and sipped on the tea absent-mindedly as she told the eager young student about Darwin's early struggles with the Bishop who denounced his theories as atheistic, and going on to show precisely how the examination of fossils and living animals in various parts of the world had led the British scientist through trial and error to the conclusion that a process of natural selection partially based on sexual preferences had led to the development of the various species of animals which inhabit the world today, including mankind.
"You mean that the strongest and toughest members of every species tend to take the best-looking females of that species, and this produces a gradual change?" he asked, obviously following her discussion very carefully.
"Yes," she answered, pleased that he had understood a rather complicated concept so quickly. 'The members of every species who are most equipped to survive in any given environment tend to be the ones who succeed in breeding, which we call the survival of the fittest."
Bud immediately followed with another keen question, and Kathy took a deep breath and launched into another detailed explanation, thinking as she talked that this week's teaching had taken more out of her physically than she would ever have imagined possible. She hoped that Bud would not think that she was giving him the brush-off, but she would simply have to excuse herself shortly and catch a cab to her apartment in order to relax for awhile. The tea was delicious and ought to be pepping her up, but instead she found her head spinning slightly, and for a few moments she felt positively nauseous.. .
"Miss Barton! Miss Barton!" she heard him calling in alarm and she opened her eyes, realizing that she had somehow drifted off to a half-faint, half-sleep right in the middle of a sentence. There was something definitely wrong! She could scarcely see straight and the room seemed to be whirling . . .
"I feel a little dizzy," she managed to stammer, embarrassed that this should happen to her right in the middle of a serious minded discussion.
"You're real pale, Miss Barton," Bud assured her sincerely. "Shall I get a car and take you home?"
"Please . . . " but her voice failed her. Phil Matthews had warned her against letting any of the students know where she lived, but at the moment she felt quite helpless, and when a car appeared magically in front of the tea room, she hung onto Bud's muscular arm desperately as he helped her into the back seat. Everything seemed so strange. . . she had seen this car before. . . it belonged to Phil Matthews. . . but where was Phil? . . . The man behind the wheel looked familiar too, but she could not place him . . . he had a long nasty scar on the side of his cheek and as she was thinking about it the young teacher fell asleep . . .
"How long is this stuff good for?" inquired Bud Swift placidly as he pushed the unconscious teacher's body down on the seat and covered her with a blanket.
'Bout an hour," answered Ash, grinning back at his leader.
"Cocaine's real good stuff for this kind of job. Let's get going before old Matthews discovers that his car and his girl friend are both missing."
CHAPTER THREE
Strangely enough, the first thing she noticed were the cracks in the ceiling and the fact that a large black spider with a heavy murderous body and eight long hairy legs was inching his way deliberately across an enormous, sinister web which stretched between two deep fissures in the plaster. There were little bundles covered with finely-woven spider thread in various parts of the web and as a biologist, Kathy knew precisely what they were. Flies, some of them still alive and wiggling desperately, had fallen accidentally into the web and become hopelessly entangled. With a taste for fresh food, the black spider had covered the struggling insects with a few layers of entangling web, holding them prisoner until lunchtime.
The spider was dangling twelve feet directly above her and although Kathy knew that spiders were not in the practice of falling out of their webs, she crossed her arms defensively across her chest anyway, thinking how horrid it would be if the ugly, filthy insect dropped down upon her. It was then that she made the second discovery. She was naked!
Abruptly her consciousness began to expand and the young school teacher shook her head, trying to break loose from her own mental cobwebs, and looked around her, attempting desperately to remember what had happened and how she had come to be lying stark naked on a dirty crumpled mattress in the corner of a deserted room. A schoolroom, she thought, seeing the dust-coated blackboard and the wild jumble of desks piled haphazardly in one corner. The plaster was falling off the walls, and what little light there was filtered in through cracks in a cardboard box which had been flattened out and nailed over the broken window to keep out the wind. In the distance, she could hear the dull murmur of traffic noise, and she guessed that it was early evening.
Her head slowly clearing, she sat up unsteadily and looked down at herself. There seemed to be no bruises, but she was quite naked and her clothing was nowhere to be seen. Then there was a metallic click from the next room, and a man's voice spoke.
"Shit, man, look at this one! That'd convince any judge in the world!"
Her mind was still moderately clouded, but suddenly she remembered where she had heard that voice before even if the words made no sense to her. It was Bud Swift's friend and accomplice, the one with the scar on his face whom she had seen for the first tinje that dreadful day in the gym.
"It'll do," commented Bud himself dryly. "Hey Ash, shouldn't she be waking up pretty soon? If you've killed that woman with one of your fucking drugs, I'll kill you . . . "
"Be cool, friend," Ash replied, apparently delighted with his cleverness. "This is a case of better living through chemistry and she'll be waking up fresh as a daisy any minute now."
With a shock, nearly all aspects of the situation became clear to the young teacher. Her fainting spell had not been a result of tiredness; she had obviously been drugged, brought to this abandoned school building and stripped naked for some reason. She had to get away! But how? She could hardly run down the street without her clothing.
Oh yes, you can, she told herself grimly, getting to her feet. It's a whole lot better to suffer a little embarrassment than to take whatever those thugs have got in mind for you. Staggering from the after effects of the cocaine, she tiptoed to the cardboard-covered window and peaked out, her heart immediately falling as she saw that she was two stories above street-level. It was not a quarter of the city she recognized, but from the looks of the room, she guessed that she was somewhere in the heart of the slum. With the noise of the cars moving below her on the street, not even a scream would be heard and in a neighborhood like this screams tended to be ignored anyway. And the only way out was the door and the men who had kidnapped her were waiting on the other side! But how could they hope to get away with such a wild adventure? Of course, they could always do whatever they were going to do with her and kill her afterwards, to make sure there was no trouble with the police, and a shiver ran down the young woman's naked back as she recognized that this too was a possibility. But somehow, it seemed too heavy-handed, too cruel and ruthless even for someone like Bud Swift.
"Hey, she's on her feet," came a voice from behind her, and the trapped biology teacher whirled to find herself confronted by Chubs, the massive waiter from the tea room who had drugged her cup. "Hot shit, she looks better wide awake than she did before!"
"Get away from me!" Kathy shrieked, losing her head almost immediately as the others filed into the room. Chubs was the only one of the four who was not a member of her senior biology class, and she felt ridiculous about standing in front of her students naked and defenseless while they lounged against the wall callously laughing at her.
"Man, look at them tits shake," commented Jose lecherously. "Can't wait to get my teeth into those."
"Remember what I said about not hurting her," snapped Bud Swift, exercising his command over the gang. "A little rough stuff is okay, but I don't want you birds leaving any marks."
Kathy stood frozen by the cardboard-covered window, listening with stunned amazement as Bud Swift gave orders to his goons concerning what they could and could not do with her defenselessly naked body, and suddenly the anger broke through. Forgetting her lack of clothing, she stormed boldly towards the ex-convict, her eyes blazing with indignation.
"Oh, that's very kind of you, Mr. Swift," she shouted at him sarcastically. "I suppose I'm to get down on my knees and thank you for your kindness?"
"You'll be down on your knees, Barton," the gang leader snapped, "but you won't be thanking me for my kindness."
"What do you intend to do?" she flared at him.
"I should think a clever lady like you who's been to college and all would be able to figure that out for herself," Swift responded, now seeming a little embarrassed and avoiding her eyes. "I'm going to have a little fun with you, lady, and when I'm finished, my friends are going to have their little fun."
"And then what? After you've raped me, I suppose I get thrown out the window while you miserable thugs go out the back door?"
"No, baby," Bud said, almost smiling. "When we're finished, we put you in the car and drive you home. I imagine you'll sleep pretty soundly tonight after we get through with you."
"And suppose I call the police?" Kathy snapped back, amazed at her own courage under these threatening circumstances, but relieved to know they were not contemplating murder as a way of silencing her. Or were they?
"You call the police and tell them you were raped by Bud Swift," he laughed without humor. "Oh that would be groovy! First off, Miss Big Tits, the police already know Bud Swift pretty well, and they know if he does anything to bust up his parole, he goes back to prison for two more years, so it won't make too much sense to them that I would rape you and then drive you home so you could get me arrested and sent back to the tank. It's going to make even less sense to them when we produce a dozen witnesses who saw you walk in and out of that tea room with me, and then drive off with me in a car, your little head resting romantically on my shoulder. And then, on top of that, we've got a little ace in the hole that we won't tell you about just now. Pretty neat, huh? Think your boy friend Matthews would come up with something like this?"
Kathy was very frightened, but her mind was functioning pretty well despite her fright and she followed the logic of what Swift was saying, remembering suddenly Phil's words about this murderous ex-convict having an I.Q. just short of the genius level. Everything he said so far made sense. The police might not believe her. But what was his "ace in the hole?"
"And if you call the police, we probably come and kill you some dark night," put in Jose threateningly as he moved close to the trembling young woman, his hot Latin eyes sweeping lecherously over her exposed and voluptuous body. "Hey Bud, when we gonna get to work?"
"Let me tell you something, Swift," she flared at him, backing slowly away as the gang advanced towards her with Chubs and Jose leading the way. "You've just thrown it all away! College, your future, the chance of getting out of this slum, everything! The big tough gang leader who rapes helpless women! And all you need are three assistants! Thug! Gangster!"
"I listened real carefully when you talked about Darwin, lady," Swift shot back harshly.
'The survival of the fittest, remember? The best males of any species have the right to take the most attractive females, right?"
"Well, let me tell you something," she screamed at him, now virtually out of her mind with a combination of sheer panic and violent anger. "You may remember your biology, but you've never looked in the mirror! If a scum like you is the best male in our species, the human race is in trouble!"
Bud Swift clenched his fists angrily, burning inside with frustration and a feeling of guilt he could not shake off. They had raped girls before, plenty of times, and kept them quiet afterwards with threats of violence, and he was sure that they could make her decide to keep her mouth shut too, but this was not turning out the way he wanted it. He had wanted to dominate her mentally as well as physically, and she was calling his bluff. She was telling him clearly that he could take her by force if he chose to, but the part of her that counted, the part he really wanted, was never going to be his. Never! The element of submission and subjugation was gone. It would just be another goddamn sexual wrestling match, and he already knew who would win.
The gang was all around her now, anxious to get going and not understanding why their leader was putting up with all this lip from a helpless female. Swift sensed that if he failed to act soon, he would lose their respect forever. He had already destroyed his future as Matthews had pictured it for him, things like college and a respectable job and if he lost command of the gang, he would have lost everything. But right now for some reason he could not define and did not clearly understand, he did not want to take her by force.
"What'er we waitin' for?" muttered Chubs, his enormous fat chest heaving with sexual excitement and his hands already reaching out to touch the frail but heavy-breasted beauty they had captured. "I think that mouth should be good for somethin' else besides talkin'. "
"Listen, you guys, soften her up for me," said Swift suddenly, backing away, his eyes evasive. "I'm going to take a walk around the block and . . . uh . . . see if I can score us some grass. Be more fun if we get a little stoned."
I couldn't stop them now if I tried, he was telling himself as he slipped quickly out the door without waiting for anyone to voice an objection. But I don't want to see it. I've got to do some thinking! I should never have done this!
"What's wrong with him?" wondered Jose, breaking the silence which unexpectedly filled the room as Swift's footsteps echoed off in the abandoned building.
"Who gives a shit?" responded Ash roughly, stepping boldly forward so that he stood face to face with the nakedly shivering young woman. "With him gone, I'm in charge, and I want you guys to remember it was me who engineered this sweet little deal, not him!"
Dumbly, Kathy backed away from the scar-faced football player, her mind now filling with hopelessly irrational panic. As long as Bud Swift was in the room, there was some reason to hope that she would be spared the pain and the humiliation of being raped brutally by four men. Whatever else he might be, Swift was at least a highly intelligent human being and she knew there were good sides to his character. But she had lost her head and handled the situation all wrong, somehow, and he had inexplicably walked out, leaving her in the merciless hands of these monsters!
One look in Ash's eyes told her that there was nothing but criminal cruelty in him and it was useless to plead for mercy. Jose was just as bad and Chubs, from the look of him, seemed too stupid to act independently of the others. And she had heard the door click locked as Swift made his exit. There was no way out!
But things were starting to happen, and there was no more time for trying to think her way out of the hopeless situation. Chubs and Jose had taken up positions on either side of her while Ash approached her frontally, slowly undoing the buttons on his Khaki shirt as he grinned lecherously down at her nakedly appealing body, exciting himself with the lust-provoking sight of her utter helplessness. He had listened to this haughty proud bitch lecture to him every day for a week now, her eyes darting away from his whenever they chanced to meet in the classroom. So she thought she was a million miles above him, did she? Well, they would fix that fast enough! A woman flat on her back with her legs in the air was just like any other cunt in the world.
"Come on, sweet-ass," he prodded her obscenely. "Let's you and me take a walk over to the mattress and have ourselves some fun.
Where's the bottle a' booze, Chubs? I feel like a short one before I get to work!"
Chubs nodded and lumbered into the next room to fetch the bottle of whiskey while Kathy continued to back peddle, her eyes fixed on Ash's face as if she were a bird transfixed by a viper. The young hoodlum ambled steadily toward her, stripping off his clothes casually as he moved, an evilly depraved smile on his face as he enjoyed the teacher's obvious terror. There was a strong streak of the sadist in this man, and he crudely laughed out loud as her heels caught on the edge of the soiled mattress and she tumbled over backwards.
"Hmmm, look at that nice little pussy," he said reaching out with one hand to stroke the soft brown pubic hairs up between her legs. Kathy tried to draw away from him in repulsion, but she was boxed in against the wall with no more room to retreat, and her delicate inexperienced young body froze as his harshly calloused fingers invaded the most intimate part of her loins, one rude finger searching for the tightly-clenched orifice of her cunt.
"Wow, she's tight boys," he commented to his leering companions as Chub obediently returned from the other room, the whiskey bottle in hand. "My poor little cock is gonna be wanderin' around in explored territory."
The other two men settled themselves on the mattress around her as Ash used his one free hand to take a long drag on the whiskey, letting the alcohol gurgle in his throat as he swallowed. Then he passed the bottle to Jose, who seemed to be next on the pecking order.
"Man, that's good stuff," Ash commented, his outstretched middle finger pushing its way again through the soft folds of pubic hair protecting the entrance to her vagina and massaging the delicate pink flesh of her cuntal lips until a groan of humiliation forced its way between her clenched teeth. "Nottin' I like better than drinkin' and screwin'. . . How 'bout you, teach?"
"Give me some," she found herself pleading suddenly, seized by the reckless idea that this grotesque experience would somehow be easier if she could quickly get herself a little drunk or even better, knock herself out completely. The men laughed at her request, but Jose obligingly passed her the bottle, and she immediately tilted it back and swallowed as deeply as she could. Kathy Barton was not an experienced drinker, and the raw cheap whiskey burned all the way down, but she was determined to get the alcohol into her system despite the fact that she was gagging and choking on the potent liquid.
"Man, that chick likes booze as much as you do, Ash," commented Jose humorously as he removed the bottle from her trembling hands.
"Yeah, now we're gonna see if she likes screwing as much as I do! How 'bout it, teach? Feel like a little fucking? Huh?"
Kathy tried to reply but no words would emerge from her whiskey-scorched throat, her head starting to reel immediately as the alcohol flooded into her bloodstream. If only she could black out or faint, she thought desperately. They could do whatever they liked if only I didn't have to be conscious.
Without warning, Ash leaned forward, yanking his finger free of her tightly clasping vagina and used the same hand to slap her hard across the face. She recoiled from the stinging blow in time to see his other hand coming in at her from the other direction. It was too late to duck, and she took the full force of it across the side of her head, knocking her flat on her stomach.
"Teach, you like screwin' as much as drinkin', huh? How 'bout tellin' the boys here how much you'd like to get fucked."
Kathy bit her lip to keep from weeping and buried her face miserably in the mattress. Now it was starting and it would get much worse before it got better, assuming that it ever got better. In the meanwhile, she would be silent as long as she could. Then she felt Ash's hands on her naked buttocks and winced as his long sharp fingernails sank into the tender yielding flesh.
"Seems to me we're gettin' the silent treatment, boys," he leered at his cohorts in crime. "How 'bout it, teach? A little fuckin' is just what you need, ain't it? Come on . . . tell us all about it."
Kathy tried to deny him this cheap victory, gritting her teeth in pain as Ash's hands twisted and squeezed her sensitive ass-cheeks, bringing her real agony. Finally she could take it no longer, and a pain-filled groan escaped her lips.
"I'm waitin', teach," he taunted her mercilessly. "Wouldn't wanna do anything against your will, and we'd kinda like to hear you say it, wouldn't we boys?" With that he twisted with all his might, bringing a scream of genuine agony to the young woman s pain-contorted face.
"Oh please," she beseeched him, her dignity now a thing of the past in her desperate desire not to be hurt like that again. "Do whatever you want, but don't hurt me!"
Grinning at his companions and realizing that he was already beginning to break down this proud beauty, Ash dug his talon-like fingernails in harder and harder as he spoke, and he felt a sudden fluid warmth as he finally punctured her skin and the blood began to seep out.
"Tell me what you really want, teach," he urged her obscenely. 'Tell us how you'd like to be fucked good and proper."
Kathy could stand it no longer. If they absolutely had to hear her use their favorite dirty word, why suffer for it?
"All right," she spat out violently. "Go ahead and fuck me! Fuck me all you want, but don't hurt me anymore."
"Mighty happy to oblige, Ma'am," Ash responded with mock gallantry. "Anything to satisfy a lady, I always say. You guys hang onto her while I get these fucking pants off. Shit, my cock's so hard I dunno if I can manage it." He drew his hands away from the weeping teacher's buttocks and the toughs saw two circles of redness where his fingernails had dug into the soft naked flesh.
"Hey, ya gonna stuff 'er now, Ash?" mumbled Chubs who obediently reached over and pinned Kathy's arms to the mattress as the naked girl stretched miserably on her stomach, her knees clenched together tightly and her face buried in the soiled material.
"Yeah, it's about time we gave the teach here a few lessons in real biology, Kensington-style," responded the scar-faced young man as he slid his dungarees down off his muscular legs. While he undressed, Chubs and Jose both gloated over the prone and helpless woman, their hands roaming lustfully over her soft resilient flesh, their cruel merciless eyes gleaming in the half-light from the window.
Kathy lay unresisting beneath them, her spirit now almost completely broken by the brutality to which she had been subjected. There was no sense in fighting it anymore. They were going to rape her, and there was no power in heaven or earth which could stop them from doing it. If she lived, possibly she could have them arrested, but it would be a hollow triumph, and at the moment the only thing she could hope for was survival. She had held onto her honor as long as it was possible, but now it was their ball game. Let them have their cheap little victory! The only way men like these could ever have her was by force!
Chubs and Jose both watched intently as Asfrr finished stripping off his underwear and began crawling over the voluptuous teacher's body. They would have to wait their turns, naturally, but both hoodlums were intensely excited by the prospect of jamming their rigid, over-stimulated cocks into someone as desirable as the new biology teacher. These men all had been in bed with women before, naturally, but always with some scrawny, unwilling school girl, and none of them had ever laid eyes on anything as spectacularly sensual as Miss Kathleen Barton, and their eyes positively glowed with lustful anticipation.
"Hold on now, boys," Ash announced, " 'cause I'm a-coming in." As he spoke, the gang's second in command stretched his fearfully muscular body over the naked back of the school teacher, the hardness of his eagerly pulsing cock slipping comfortably into the fleshy crevice between the half-moons of her buttocks. Despite her firm resolution to lie still and take what was coming, Kathy's body instinctively began to fight back, while Chubs and Jose pinned her fiercely to the fetid old mattress. But this was not the first woman Ash had ever violated, and he was a master of all the necessary techniques. Inserting his legs between hers, he pushed her knees apart with brute force until her thighs were widely separated. Then he reared up over her, his pole-like cock waving in front of him, and used the powerful muscles in his shoulders to lift her hips clear off the mattress. Kathy instinctively bent her body, trying to re-establish her equilibrium as she felt herself dangling in mid-air, but the moment her knees touched the mattress, Jose and Chubs quickly followed a muttered order from Ash, reaching down and seizing the backs of her knees so that she was trapped in this unnatural pose, her heavy swollen breasts crushed against the round surface of the mattress and her backside waving defenselessly up in the air. The position was worse than merely uncomfortable; it was humiliating, but the three men had her boxed in tightly from the rear on both sides, and she found to her dismay that she could hardly move a muscle.
Her futile struggles lasted another half-minute, but the girl's frail body was already beginning to tire, and her muscles were absurdly weak in comparison to the enormous combined strength of the three football players.
Now that his victim was in position for the sacrifice, Ash paused for a moment to enjoy the lust-stimulating sight of his biology teacher from the rear, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head with unsatisfied desire as he gazed at the smooth, lushly rounded moons of her buttocks. He had never had anything like this before he realized, no, never in his entire life, and this time he was not waiting impatiently in line for Bud Swift to knock the stuffings out of some poor girl. No, this time he was first, and he liked the feeling of power which came from standing at the head of the line. His penis was so hard it was almost physically painful, and his cum-filled balls ached with desire, but he held back his natural impulse to go skewering brutally into the woman's helplessly-exposed vaginal opening. No, this was too good an opportunity! Before he came thrusting animalistically into her, he wanted to see her really squirming. He had conquered her body, but more than anything else in the world, he wanted to see her writhing and begging him for it, whether she wanted to or not. . . and that should be easy enough to do.
For starters, he leaned forward and ran his lips coarsely down the spiny ridge of her back, working his way obscenely into the furrow between her gracefully curving buttocks. The girl responded by clenching her ass-cheeks together as tightly as she could in a vain attempt to hold him out, but Ash merely forced her buttocks apart with his muscular hands and then renewed his attack, his hot searing tongue washing lewdly over the puckered little brown hole of her anus.
"Aahhhhhh!" Kathy grunted, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing her say anything, but unable to keep silent as this foul perversion was forced upon her helpless backside.
But Ash had time to spare now that Bud was gone, and he deliberately tormented her with his mouth, dropping even farther down between her two widely-spread legs and lapping at her warmly scented pussy like a dog, his tongue lashing repeatedly over her hair-lined vaginal lips. His eyes glowing, he could see that the naked young teacher was involuntarily beginning to moisten as her body instinctively responded to his oral caresses. Using his fingers, he gently pried her apart, smelling the sweet odor of her delicate interior flesh. Kathy was breathing deeply but no longer crying out with pain, and Ash knew that this sudden switch from brutality to gentleness had thrown her completely off guard. He had won another skirmish, but the main battle was still before them.
Kathy wanted to groan, sensing somehow that it would relieve her feelings if she could make some kind of noise, but she held it all tensely within her, surprised by Ash's abrupt change of pace. She kept expecting to be hurt, and the hurt somehow never came. Instead there was a warm featherlike sensation up inside her hotly throbbing loins, a feeling which grew and grew as he played with her gently, his fingers softly probing. She had prepared her mind to fight off the worst pain a cruel sadistic man like Ash could inflict upon a helpless woman, but she was not at all ready for this. It was almost . . . the thought refused to form itself in her mind . . . Oh God! It was almost pleasure! She shivered, unable to control her body, and it felt as if there were a thousand delicate hands caressing her all at once, whipping her into a state of wanton excitement she wanted desperately to avoid.
The men were still pinning her to the mattress, but as the minutes passed the position became less and less uncomfortable, and it occurred to her with a shock that this was how she had slept as a child, her head under the pillow and her fanny up in the air. She struggled to remind herself that she was being raped, forced against her will, but the thought became harder and harder to fix in her mind as the sex-driven student behind her worked his terrible magic upon her nakedly quivering cunt.
Of course, she could not see what was going on herself, but Ash sensed quickly that things were very slowly beginning to go his way, feeling her ripely rounded ass-cheeks relax imperceptibly until she was no longer fighting him off and merely accepting what ever he chose to do to her. Trying to capitalize on his momentary advantage, the hoodlum crouched down between the nakedly kneeling teacher's widespread legs and pressed his face forward, jamming his open mouth hard against the hot churning wetness of her vaginal slit. The girl gasped and squirmed uneasily at this new escalation of his assault, but she was still helpless even when he thrust his thick wet tongue lewdly into the depths of her warm throbbing cunt.
The student smiled as he heard her gasp, feeling her vaginal passage flutter and palpitate under this depraved attack, contracting and expanding wildly against his marauding tongue as he orally fucked her in moaning submission. The involuntarily stimulated girl could no longer hold her aroused young body still; and groans began to escape from her lips as she gyrated her backside desperately in a futile effort to escape from this maddening tongue lashing. Ash was really turning on now, and he began to lap at her like an animal, grunting and muttering as he sucked and licked at the wet succulence of her tight little pussy, driving her farther and farther down the road to depravity he wanted her to take.
"Hot shit!" exclaimed Jose nonchalantly relaxing his hold on her arm and shoulder. "Look at her ass moving into high gear! Like that, don't ya, teach?"
But the agonized young woman hardly heard these callously mocking words, realizing with despair that her own shamelessly aroused body was beginning to betray her no matter how hard she battled to establish some semblance of control over her wildly excited sexual emotions. Despite Mark Hanson's boldfaced lie about her being a woman who enjoyed going to bed with five men simultaneously, the truth of the matter was that Kathy had always been somewhat timid sexually, having slept with only two of her boy friends in college, but only after two long grueling courtships. With both of these fortunate young men she had experienced some mild sexual pleasure, but nothing they had been able to do for her could be remotely compared to the obscene sensations Ash was sending up and down her trembling spinal column at this moment. Suddenly a new and horrible fear sprang uninvited into her mind: Suppose she were to cum? It seemed impossible under the circumstances, but her body felt just the way it had felt on those few previous occasions in her life when she had been able to achieve an orgasm. If it happened now, how could she go to the police and accuse this man of rape? She would become the laughing stock of the school. No, she was not the first woman in the history of the world to be sexually assaulted, but women were supposed to resist to the death, and then endure the inevitable with gritted teeth. Unfortunately, she was not merely enduring the inevitable; she was taking pleasure in it her naked young body actually encouraging it and no one watching this bizarre erotic scene could have denied it.
Ash moved carefully, sensing with his animal cunning that the young teacher was numb and highly vulnerable at this moment, but knowing that any abrupt violent move on his part would destroy the delicate mood which had been slowly created. Forcing apart the twin cheeks of her perfectly curved buttocks as he prepared to invade the wetly fluttering chasm of her cunt, the young criminal's eyes chanced to fall on the tiny puckered hole of her anus just above the moistness of her vagina. For a moment he trembled with the perverse desire to take her there. He had never done that to a woman before, and had always wanted to, but he craftily decided to wait until she had been thoroughly softened up by the others before proceeding to something as violent as sodomy. In the meantime, the blushing little cunt he saw before him was inviting enough to content any man on earth!
Kneeling confidently behind her, he slipped his knees as far up as possible between her trembling white thighs, using the thumb and forefinger of his right hand to guide the tip of his thick bulging penis through her velvety pussy hair, feeling the warm throbbing lips of her cunt close wetly over his cock-head as he slowly entered her.
"Aaaggghhh!" he groaned, never in his life having felt anything quite as good as this, and for a moment he rested contentedly where he was, leaving just the hard bulbous tip of his cock lodged gently in the hotly pulsating entrance to her cunt, taking his time and enjoying every minute of it. Then he began to inch his way forward, exchanging lewd glances of triumph with Chubs and Jose as he angled his penis from side to side in an attempt to widen the narrow pussy opening, the hotly contracting walls of her vaginal depths pressing in with surprising strength around his thick shaft of hard flesh.
"Oooohhh," Kathy moaned softly, hating herself for her weakness and wishing desperately that there was some way she could cause herself pain and avoid the rippling torrent of pleasure that this unwanted impalement was forcing upon her. But try as she might, there was no way of denying the fact that her naked young body was trembling like a fragile leaf shaken by the wind, and the anguished biology teacher found herself digging her fingernails into the soiled fabric of the mattress, clinging to it for dear life as Ash wormed his long hard cock farther and farther up into her belly from behind.
"Come on, Ash, don't take all day," urged Jose impatiently. "You got another four inches to go there." The wiry slender football player was quickly going out of his mind with lusty anticipation and, with his one free hand, Kathy could see he was rubbing his own hardened cock inside of his pants, barely able to wait until his turn had arrived.
"Dis ain't yer honeymoon," grumbled the corpulent Chubs, also growing impatient with the delay.
"Fuck you guys," snarled Ash, making a great show of being angry at all of this gratuitous advice, but he knew his unruly followers would take matters into their own hands if he held them up any longer. Gulping a deep breath, he withdrew his lust-hardened cock a few inches and then violently stabbed forward, plunging all of the way into the submissively kneeling girl's cunt with one brutal stroke until the blood-engorged glans slammed into the sensitive tip of her cervix.
"Aaaaggggghhhhhhhh," Kathy wailed, abruptly brought back to reality by this unexpected change of pace. Ash's attack was not precisely painful, but she groaned in dismay as she felt her thighs and buttocks being torn apart by the violence of his thrusting. "Oh, please stop," she begged him uselessly, but the youth hardly seemed to be hearing her now, and the girl's hopelessly skewered vagina felt as if it had suddenly been stuffed with the stout end of a baseball bat. She fought back, once again fully conscious of what was happening to her, clenching and contracting the muscles in her loins with all the power she could muster, but it was a lost cause from the beginning. The time for fighting back was now gone, and her futile struggles only seemed to excite the cruelly sadistic drug merchant even more, since every time she thrashed helplessly back and forth, the moist bands of her cuntal muscles pressed firmly against the invading shaft of his penis. This, in turn, aroused Ash even further, and the more excited he became, the bigger his iron-hard cock seemed to grow. To Kathy it felt like a long fat balloon, slowly filling with air and destined inevitably to burst if it did not rip her to pieces first.
Chubs and Jose were rapidly losing control of themselves, and despite Ash's grunted commands to stay out of the way, Kathy could feel their hands swarming lasciviously over her, the dry agile fingers of Jose as he reached beneath her trapped body to torment the full flaccid globes of her swaying breasts, and the hotly sweating palms of the moronic Chubs, who was playing with her nakedly trembling buttocks. Seeing they were completely out of control, Ash gave up trying to give orders to his over-excited cohorts, concentrating his energies on fucking into her viciously, his hard muscular loins slapping noisily against the helplessly upturned twin half-moons of her buttocks. Meanwhile Chubs continued his investigations, practically crawling on top of the kneeling young teacher as his lewd fingers found their way to the tight puckering entrance to her unused little anus.
"Shit, man," exclaimed the idiot. "She's tight."
Kathy was half out of her mind with the torment by now, and had no idea why a grown man would take the trouble to play around with her rectum, and therefore the naive young school teacher was totally unprepared for what happened next. Chubs ignored a threatening look from Ash, continuing to probe the tightness of the girl's vainly resisting rectum until her anal muscles were tired and could fight back no longer. The moment the fat man sensed that her resistance was low, he pushed, digging his thick middle finger into her all the way to the hilt.
"Hey, I got it in, fellas," the moron chuckled, taking a childish delight in this bizarre accomplishment.
Kathy groaned in protest, but she was under attack from all directions now, and her mind was swirling in wild confusion. The feather-like titillation of a few minutes before had now disappeared in the face of this brutal dual invasion of her loins. The young biology teacher felt as if the two men between them were going to rip her up the middle, and there would be no need for them to throw her battered body out of the window to keep her silent when they had finished with her; the murder would be accomplished here and now, right on this mattress. They would surely kill her!
Ash had no more breath for lewd comments or issuing orders to his fellow gang members since he was now putting all of his energy into every violent forward lunge, stuffing his massively hardened cock into her so deeply that he filled her to the bursting point with every stroke. Chub's maurauding finger continued to roam around inside of the teacher's sorely abused rectum, every probe bringing a fresh cry of distress to her lips.
"Man, I gotta get into this act," she heard Jose announce in a strangled, lust-filled voice.
"Fer Christ sake!" exploded Ash, his words coming in short harsh pants as he labored. "Can't you guys wait yer turns?"
"I want another minute, and I'm gonna shoot off in my pants!" complained Jose, fumbling wildly with the zipper on his pants and arranging his body so that his groin was next to the young woman's anguished face. Kathy tried desperately to turn away from him, but her head and shoulders were held down by the enormous weight of Chub's body, and she found she could not move a muscle. Her eyes were open wide in sudden terror as she watched the wiry Spanish-American thrust his pants down around his knees, exposing his long thin cock. This time she had a fairly precise idea of what he had in mind, and her stomach turned over in revulsion as she saw the hotly oozing droplets of semen clinging to the tip of his circumcised organ.
She gamely tried to clamp her mouth shut tight as Jose began fingering her defiantly closed lips, but it was difficult since she was half suffocated by the weight of Chub's body and the violence of the pounding she was getting from Ash, and she was forced to gasp for breath through clenched teeth. But Jose knew exactly what he wanted, and he was a young man who was used to having his way. Yanking on her long brown hair, he rubbed his cock lewdly around the edges of her mouth, forcing it past her wetly parted lips and pushing against the ivory barrier of her teeth. As soon as he found himself in position, the little young football player pulled hard and unexpectedly on her hair. The girl's mouth shot open as she screamed with sudden pain, Jose's hips flicked forward, and the deed was done. The thin pulsating cock crashed past her teeth, and Kathy shuddered as she felt the long pole-like object slithering down her tongue towards the back of her throat, filling her mouth completely.
Kathy could hear Ash's dry chuckle as he fucked ruthlessly into her hotly throbbing vagina from behind, but what was left of her mind was now almost completely concentrated on what was going on inside of the violated sanctuary of her mouth. Jose had inched his body even closer, almost smothering her as he persistently screwed his virile young cock in and out of her ovaled mouth, timing his brutal thrusts with Ash's rhythm so that both men penetrated her simultaneously while the mindless Chubs continued to fish around in her violently offended rectum, which he had now stretched sufficiently to add a second chubby finger to the first. Jose held her head rigidly between his hands, craftily never withdrawing his hotly pulsating cock far enough to give her the opportunity to shake him off, always leaving the pulsating tip just inside the warm moistness of her mouth.
Kathy sensed her body and spirit growing weaker as the three powerful football players continued to pound and batter her in every foul way they could imagine, and for half a moment, she earnestly hoped she was going to faint. If she could only drop peacefully off into unconsciousness while they finished what they began, perhaps she would never wake up again, but at this point, what difference did it really make? She would never really be a decent self-respecting woman again. Even if she were not ruined physically for life, she was now hopelessly ruined in some other hard-to-define way, and she knew that for her, things would never again be quite the same.
"Suck, you little bitch!" she heard Jose sputter at her, and she wearily opened her eyes to watch his long thin cock emerging from the nest of black pubic hair in his groin and then disappearing out of her field of vision as it pushed past her straining lips and into her furiously salivating mouth. She was not conscious of the precise moment when the feeling of submission and subjugation began to take hold of her dazzled consciousness, but all of a sudden she noticed that her lips were clamped obediently around the hard driving shaft of Jose's thrusting penis. She sucked and nibbled experimentally at first, sputtering a little and coughing as she adjusted to this depraved new sex act, reasoning to herself that the sooner she made him cum, the sooner this nightmare would be at an end. His heavy swinging balls were beating a tattoo against her defenseless chin, and she heard the young man chuckle contentedly as he realized that the haughty young biology teacher was slowly but surely giving in. They were winning and she was losing; there were no two ways about it!
At first it had seemed to Ash that he would be able to go on fucking savagely into her tight little cunt all night long, but the sight of the abused girl sucking masochistically on Jose's saliva-coated cock had driven his excitement up to a new high, and he could feel the end coming, and coming fast. Trying to make it the best fuck of his entire life, he began skewering into her harder and quicker, mercilessly pounding his loins into the bruised flesh of her buttocks and pulling Chub's fingers out of the woman's offended anus so that he could have at least one end of her all to himself. Digging his fingers into the flaccid flesh of her smoothly modeled hips, he levered up over her and put every muscle in his body into the action until Kathy felt sure he was going to pile-drive her into pieces. He was really breathing hard now, muttering one foul obscenity after another as wildly erotic fantasies floated through her half-crazed mind. Then she moaned loudly and he felt the tight inner muscles of her hotly clasping pussy begin to ripple around his shaft, and he grinned in lewd triumph, knowing she was cumming. A second later, there was no doubt in anyone's mind because she began fucking back to him like a woman gone mad! She gurgled and gasped around Jose's cock and they saw her lips tighten willingly as she sucked with a lewd eagerness.
Jose sensed what was happening and tried to keep pace with his leader, motivated by some vilely perverted thought that they should all three cum together, he and Ash both shooting their twin streams of hot sticky cum into her from both ends at precisely the same moment. The young woman's voluptuously convulsing body was nearly bent in two between the two powerful football players, and Kathy realized that she no longer really possessed a will of her own. She was just an object now, a sex toy to be battered and abused in any way her masters desired while her traitorous body exalted in a wanton joy. Chubs was crawling over her like a single-bodied swarm of ants, tickling her rose-tipped nipples and running his thick lips crazily over the exposed portions of her back as he impatiently waited his turn to fuck the nakedly kneeling teacher.
Inside of Kathy's battered mouth there was a growing quantity of liquid, a pungent mixture of saliva and warm semen oozing steadily from Jose's over-stimulated cock. His hard tensed fingers were still entwined in her hair, and he was pulling her inexorably toward him, nearly breaking her neck in his desire to ram himself even farther down her throat, treating her defenseless face precisely as if it were merely another cunt into which he could fuck to his heart's content. The tormented girl could feel his hotly throbbing cock twisting around inside of her like some small animal with a life of its own, worming its way farther and farther down the back of her throat.
It all finished very quickly. Jose suddenly muttered something unintelligible in Spanish, jerking forward as the warm wet waves of cum erupted from deep in his loins and began to spray furiously into the back of her throat. There was no time to think and no way of spitting the salty pungent liquid out, and she was faced with the dire choice of swallowing his hot spurting sperm or choking to death. Her basic human instinct for survival took over and she swallowed, gulping the searing white liquid down as fast as he spewed it into her.
His orgasm seemed to go on forever, and she could hear him groaning almost pathetically above her as he emptied the contents of his loins into her choking, sputtering throat.
She was barely through with one man when her second orgasm was upon her. Even as she was wailing out the message, "I'm cumming," Kathy heard a deep-voiced grunt behind her, and a moment later there was an explosion in her vagina like nothing she had ever experienced before. Ash collapsed over her back as the cum swept out of him and into her in one massive body-shaking wave after another. She was so lost in rapture that she didn't feel it when his fingernails went into her flesh. Unaccountably she found herself seeking to return Jose's deflated penis to her mouth and, having succeeded, began voraciously sucking him as Ash filled her wildly pulsating vagina with all the hot searing white cum in his body.
For awhile she was only half-conscious. There was a little cool air sweeping over her nakedly perspiring body as the men rolled her over onto her back, her legs stretched widely apart and tiny rivulets of cum dripping from the corners of her mouth and out of her ravished young cunt. Then Chubs came on top of her, and for awhile things were very bad again until she found herself wildly responding to the fat man again. Just as he came, she passed out. The last thing she remembered seeing was the black hairy spider on the ceiling capturing another fly which had flown mistakenly into his web. For a moment she felt sorry for the fly, and then the lights went out.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ironically, Phil Matthews did not discover that his car was missing until much later that night. He was delayed after class by a student who had written a poem and wanted him to read it, so he perched on the edge of his desk while the school slowly emptied of its students, and scanned this new contribution to the world of English literature. The student, a pimple-faced boy of sixteen, stood nervously first on one foot and then on the other, sweating it out while he waited for Mr. Matthews' opinion.
It was terrible, possibly the worst poem Phil had ever read, and for a moment the dedicated young English teacher struggled with the impulse to tell the bald, unvarnished truth; the meter was off, the words were misspelled and the meaning unclear. But instead he smiled encouragingly and took the trouble to analyze the poem with his student, showing him gently how certain lines might be improved and correcting some of the badly spelled words. After all, he reasoned, when a Ken Central student writes a poem, any kind of poem, then we are making some kind of progress. Next year, maybe, this budding Shakespeare will write a mediocre poem, and the year after that, a good poem. And if that happens, this little session will have been worth the while. No matter what else happened, you could not turn off a sign of real interest from a student; it happened too rarely in a place like Kensington.
"You staying late, Mr. Matthews?" said one of the policemen, sticking his head in the door of the classroom. "We're checking out now."
"Fine, officer," responded the English teacher, actually a little grateful to be handed an excuse to postpone the rest of this discussion. Making an appointment to talk to the budding poet some more the following week, Matthews returned to his office and discovered the note on his door.
He looked at it for a long time, swearing quietly under his breath. For one thing, Matthews considered that Miss Barton was still under his protection, and it irritated him not to know where she had gone, and with whom. Kathy was learning fast, but she still had that college-girl innocence about her, even though she had gotten through her first week better than anyone had ever expected.
Come off it Matthews, he told himself severely. She's a big girl and old enough to look after herself! What's the real reason you're pissed off? You were planning to ask her for a date, weren't you?
Matthews put a few books under his arm, locked his desk and shuffled down the empty echoing corridors, feeling more depressed than he had in years. Another empty weekend staring him in the face! He had taken the trouble to acquire two tickets for a concert on Saturday night, and about half-way through the concert, he would have proposed a picnic in the country for Sunday morning and . . .
"Night, Mr. Matthews," called the other policeman who was preparing to lock the front door.
"So long, Officer," Matthews responded, and he walked down the sidewalk despondently, wondering which student was having a chat with Kathy Burton. One of the girls, probably, wanting some information on birth control. Kathy would have to expect a lot of that kind of thing from now on. Now where the hell had he left the car?
A thought stopped him in mid-step. Perhaps Kathy had taken her student over to the tea room? In fact, where else could they have gone? He could stroll in casually for a cup of tea and some of those cookies the old ladies made, and if Miss Barton just happened to be there, then maybe they could use those concert tickets after all. What a fool he had been not to have gotten her telephone number! But he had been too shy to ask for it.
Matthews crossed the street, dodging through the five o'clock traffic and entered the tea room. One glance told him that he had been shot down again. The place was empty except for one of the little old ladies.
"Ah, good evening, Mr. Matthews!" she called in her shrill old voice. "Just a moment, dear, I have the book right here."
"What book?" questioned Matthews in confusion. Had he left a book here?
"Miss Barton's Book," answered the old croon. "The one she left today when she had her fainting spell. Poor dear, I thought you'd come to get her book."
"What's this about a fainting spell?
"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing to be alarmed about, Mr. Matthews. That nice young man seemed to be quite capable of handling the situation. I imagine he took her to a doctor."
Matthews gritted his teeth with frustration, reminding himself not to shout.
"Which nice young man?"
"Oh, I don't know his name . . . dear me, he's such a handsome young man and he plays on the football team. My nephew. Chubs, knows him, but Chubs isn't here right now."
Matthews nodded dumbly, took the book and wandered back out on the street, knowing that his weekend was now going to be more miserable than ever, since in addition to being lonely he was going to spend most of his time worrying about Kathleen Barton. The young English teacher had acquired a pleasant bachelor apartment in a much nicer section of town than this, but for some reason, he was not quite ready to go home. Almost no one at Ken Central knew this fact, but Phil Matthews had been born and raised less than a mile from the school in the worst section of the slum. Growing up in this harsh, brutal environment, he had learned to survive. Being thinner, smaller and shyer than the others, he had survived more often than not by taking to his heels and running for it whenever a nasty situation developed, and his classmates had long ago called him a coward, and he had accepted the label, staying off the streets at night when the trouble developed and ducking any possible confrontation with the criminal adolescent gangs who ruled the neighborhood. The Black Hawks, the Panthers, the Puerto Rican bunch, the Black gangs, he had ducked them all, staying home in the evenings with his books and studying hard enough to get himself a scholarship to a decent college.
"Might as well be a teacher," his father had always grumbled. 'The kid ain't got the balls for anything else."
But the old man had only been half-right. Matthews had finished college with brilliant marks, published a few poems, got his Master's degree, and then amazed everyone by applying for a teaching job in the worst school in the city, Kensington Central High, just because he thought there was a job to be done there. Maybe he was a coward; maybe not. Phil Matthews did not fit comfortably into any of the usual categories.
"Dammit," he swore quietly, feeling the heat of early autumn start to gather in the crowded city. There had been a breeze in the afternoon, but it had died with the sunset, and the night would be pure agony for the people who lived in the Kensington slum. His own apartment, far away from here in the university district, was on the top floor, and would be cool and comfortable, but for some reason, he could not bring himself to forget about Miss Barton, find his car, and get out of this hell on earth.
Should he really be worrying about Kathy's safety? Or was he merely angry and jealous because she had gone off with another man, a student at that? All right, he tried to reason with himself as he paced the littered and poorly lit streets in the gathering dusk, you're hung up on the girl, you can admit that much. But if Bud Swift had taken her off somewhere, especially while she was in a weakened condition . . . precisely how far could Bud Swift be trusted? The young ex-convict had come a long way, his scholastic work getting better and better, but he still had far too much of the slum punk mentality, and every so often, he gave into his baser instincts, the way he had that day in the gym. Of course, Kathy Barton was no teenager with loose morals, but if she was having fainting spells . . .
There he was! Matthews stopped in his tracks, instinctively slipping into a doorway the way he had twenty years before as a kid whenever he saw a big bully on the street before him. Swift was walking slowly, a hundred feet ahead of him, his head down and apparently lost in thought. For a moment Phil Matthews debated his best course of action. Naturally, he could just rush up to the student and demand to know where Miss Barton was. It was the obvious thing to do.
But something stopped him. He and Swift had both been born and raised in the slum, and there were some things which kids from the wrong side of the tracks just did not do. Swift was obviously going somewhere, and Matthews decided he would find out where before he took any direct action. Moving carefully, he worked his way down the street behind the meandering gang leader, always keeping a safe distance behind him in case Swift would happen to turn around.
But the ex-convict seemed to be lost in thought, walking doggedly along without paying much attention to his surroundings, and Matthews was able to follow him undetected as he moved deeper and deeper into the slum, eventually arriving at a series of old apartment buildings which had been condemned by the city and were supposed to be torn down. The street lights had been smashed and the sidewalks were covered with broken glass and the only other occupants of the area were the occasional drunks who staggered through the gutter, or sprawled in darkened alleys. It was not a pleasant place to be once the sun had disappeared, and Matthews felt himself tremble with fear as he saw Swift move down a darkened alley, his movements now cat-like and confident.
Allowing a few minutes to pass for the sake of safety, Matthews followed him, feeling his way along a damp wall into a courtyard. For a moment, he could see nothing, but gradually he determined that he was standing in what had once been a school playground. Up on the top floor of the old school building, he could see the unsteady flickering light from an oil lantern. At ground level, one door had been forced and Matthews assumed that Swift had entered there and was now making his way to the top floor. In the parking lot, there was only one car, and the English teacher tiptoed cautiously over to it, wondering why Swift had chosen to walk if he had an automobile at his disposal.
It was his car! Matthews did a double-take and looked a second time, but there was no mistake about it, this was his own automobile, and peering in the window, he could barely make out the wires someone had used to hot-wire the vehicle and start it without needing the key. Very strange things were happening tonight: Kathy's disappearance, the theft of his car, the lantern on the top floor, Bud Swift's strange behavior. . . What did it all add up to?
The answer came a split second later. High, high up above him there came the voice of a woman. It was a scream, at first faint and weak, and no one could have heard it on the street; but Phil Matthews heard it and knew what it meant.
For a moment he froze, trying desperately to think clearly. First, he had to put down the impulse to dash up the stairs and try to stop whatever was going on; it was absurd! There was no way of telling how many men there were up there with Swift, and he could hardly expect to handle even Bud alone in a fair fight, much less a gang of Swift's thugs. Or he could call for the police, but this thought was even sillier. The police would probably take an hour to arrive and then trudge noisily up there with drawn guns, shooting at anything that moved and making enough racket to wake the dead. To dispose of the witness, the gang would toss Kathy out the nearest window and flee across the roof-tops, quickly losing themselves in the sullen slum night. And besides, people in the Ken Central district did not call the police to settle their differences. Little problems like this were worked out on a private basis, and Phil
Matthews knew that he was going to have to handle this one alone.
The English teacher took a deep breath in the dank, humid air of the courtyard, realizing that there were some fights a man could not run away from if he ever wished to call himself a man again. But this was a fight he had to win, and first he needed to balance the odds a little. He walked quietly out the alley and broke into a trot when he hit the street.
CHAPTER FIVE
Bud Swift took his time climbing the stairs, feeling the depression settle over him as he came closer and closer to the scene of his crime. There was no point in trying to excuse himself by thinking about the fact that the whole wild scheme was Ash's idea and that the others had all been solidly for it. He could have stood up to the gang of them and shouted them down, and if necessary, fought them down. But he had been weak and gone along with it, and now events were already taking place which would certainly be irreversible. There was no turning back.
And naturally, they would get away with it. When they showed her the pictures, she would almost certainly not go to the police. Unfortunately she would also certainly hate him until the day she died. She might tell Matthews what had happened or she might be too ashamed, it was hard to predict, and it didn't make much difference at this point.
Swift stopped on the top floor, listening to the ancient school building squeak and mutter to itself in the night. He lighted one of the marijuana cigarettes in the dark hallway, the momentary fleeting glow from his match illuminating the dusty chipped plaster and the sagging walls, and it occurred to him that the whole ramshackle structure just might collapse without warning, killing them all and ending his problems in an instant. He took a deep drag, feeling the narcotic filter into his bloodstream, and slowly climbed the last flight of stairs.
Chubs raised himself on one elbow as the gang leader came in the door, looking at him stupidly while the other two punks slept peacefully in separate corners. There were two empty whiskey bottles on the floor, and Swift understood immediately what had happened.
"Shoulda been here, Bud," muttered Chubs thickly, the sweat rolling across his massive fat-covered chest. "We all fucked her twice . . . greatest fuck any of us ever had!" And he rolled over on his back again, his mountainous belly protruding in the air, and went back to sleep.
Sleep tight, buddies, Swift thought viciously as he walked through the outer room into the chamber where Kathleen Barton was imprisoned. And if you've hurt her, none of you will ever wake up again. No one will ever miss you. You'll all just disappear!
The kerosene lantern was still flickering dimly in the corner throwing strange uncertain shadows over the room as the young hoodlum crossed the squeaking floor to the mattress where the girl lay quietly. He knelt down beside her still-naked body, feeling the old lust come rushing back over him again as he saw the bruises and black-and-blue marks on her flawlessly formed figure. Her eyes opened slowly as he gently touched her hair.
"Phil?" she asked pleadingly.
"No, it's Bud," he answered, suddenly hating the sound of his own name. How much better it would be in this moment to be Phil Matthews!
"Oh," she replied quietly turning her head away almost as if she had suddenly lost interest in the conversation. All this meant was more mistreatment and brutality.
"Did they hurt you?" he asked softly, not knowing quite what else to say. It would be too stupid to ask her to forgive him at this stage of the game.
"Oh, they were perfect gentlemen," she replied sarcastically, her voice weak and trembling with emotion, but Swift could tell that her spirit had not yet been really broken. She was still in there fighting. "I've never been raped so nicely before."
There was a long silence. Swift could not think of anything else to say and so he remained quiet, stroking her long brown hair and letting his eyes wander over the exposed length and breadth of her magnificent naked body. God, she was beautiful! What should he do? She was hardly strong enough to give him much of a contest right now, and he could probably take her with complete ease. What was done was done, after all, and why should he let the opportunity pass? On the other hand . . .
"Water," she gasped, putting her hand to her throat. "Before you get down to doing what you came to do, would you show me what a nice little gentleman you are and give me a glass of water?"
'There's no water," he muttered unhappily, amazed that she was still showing so much spunk. "If you want some whiskey . . . "
"Anything. Just so long as it's liquid."
It was strange, he thought as he obediently went into the next room and opened a fresh bottle of whiskey. She was his captive and she fully expected to be raped, and yet they were sitting together having this perfectly civilized conversation about water and whiskey. Next she would be asking him for ice cubes. How was it possible to rape a woman who was so cool?
Kathy accepted the bottle without the slightest sign of gratefulness, immediately tilting it back and taking a long pull while she propped herself up on one elbow. She was aware, of course, that she was still perfectly naked, but after all that had happened, her maidenly modesty was hardly important. So he could see her bare, bruised breasts and her battered vagina with traces of three of his buddies' cum still clinging to her pubic hairs! So what? He was sitting there calmly watching her, and he would decide what would happen, not her. She had already tried threats and name-calling and it had gotten her nowhere. Pleading for mercy was useless. Why worry about how she ought to behave? Was there a book of etiquette on how the well-dressed woman conducts herself while being gang-banged? She could say what she wanted since nothing she said would make much difference.
"And now I'll accept a cigarette," she told him boldly, looking him square in the face. If they were going to make brutal use of her body, they might as well keep her moderately happy in the meantime.
"All I've got are these," admitted Swift uneasily, holding up the pack of drugged cigarettes.
"Well, I wouldn't expect you to have purchased my brand she snapped, reaching for the pack, not realizing that the cigarettes were filled with half tobacco and half marijuana.
"It's your funeral," he shrugged, lighting a match and touching it to the end of the reefer as she held it to her lips.
Miss Barton dragged gratefully on the cigarette, noting immediately that the taste was pleasantly strange, but too battered and bruised to give the matter much thought at the moment. She expected that Bud Swift would start in on her right away, and thus found herself moderately surprised by his behavior. Surely he had not exposed himself to the danger of kidnapping her just so the three punks snoring in the next room could have some fun with her! He must have wanted her himself, and in fact all week she had felt his penetrating eyes from the back of the room watching her lustfully. She knew that he had wanted her and wanted her bad! Why then had he handed her over to his gang members and disappeared for the better part of an hour? If he wanted to rape her, why didn't he do it? There was nothing absolutely nothing to stop him!
"I . . . I'm kinda sorry things worked out this way," he muttered, his eyes avoiding hers as he moved next to her on the couch.
Kathy bit her lip and decided that it was better to say nothing. She had read somewhere about what the Army expected of its men when they were taken prisoner by the enemy in a war. You were allowed to give your name, rank and serial number, nothing more. She had no serial number to give and they already knew her name and rank, so there was no point in saying anything more. She had already sacrificed some of her dignity by accepting the whiskey and the cigarette, but under the circumstances, she felt she could be forgiven at least this much. But from here on, she would practice total passive non-cooperation. And she was not going to get into a cozy little chat with him before he decided to take his clothing off and violate her already abused body. She had to hang onto some tiny molecule of her dignity and self-respect at all cost, and she was enormously grateful that Swift had not been present when the other three had raped her, hearing her moan and plead while Ash had tongue-fucked her half-way to an involuntary orgasm, and then finished the job until she had climaxed so powerfully that she had lapsed into unconsciousness. Oh God! How she had hated it.. . and loved the pleasure . . .
But her head was spinning slightly and she felt too weak to remain propped up on her elbow, letting her body go slack and allowing her head to drop down on her arm. Everything seemed to have taken on an aura of unreality, the walls, the room, the chipping plaster, her world seemed to be mounted on huge silently turning wheels which were carrying her inexorably around in circles. The naked young school teacher struggled to regain control over her fading senses, but she had been fighting too long against so many things and now she was tired. It was all she could do to raise the cigarette hesitantly to her lips for one last deep drag before she felt Swift calmly removing it from between her fingers lest she burn herself or set the mattress on fire.
Bud Swift sat quietly by the beautiful young woman's side and watched the marijuana take effect, realizing that he had never seen it hit anyone so hard and so fast before. It was funny stuff, he reminded himself philosophically. Some people could never get high, no matter how much they smoked, and other people went clear off into space after the first puff. Kathy Barton obviously belonged in the second category. There were some other things which were obvious as well: she had completely lost the will to resist, at least physically. Ash, Chubs and Jose had evidently mauled her half to death, and she was broken so far down now that she would not be able to lift a finger against him. And indeed, why should she? What could he possibly do that one of them had not already accomplished? She had obviously been raped several times, and very thoroughly. There was a partially-dried fleck of white sticky substance clinging to the soft skin of her cheeks which told him that not even her soft mouth had been spared. What was left for him to do? When you have already lost everything, you have nothing left to fear.
He stroked the fine silken flesh of her shoulders carefully, curious to see if this timid approach would produce any reaction, if she would lash out at him verbally, telling him to keep his filthy hands to himself. She groaned slightly, pulling a few inches away, but nothing more. It had all been wrong, but there was no way to change it now. He wished he had not doped her up with the cigarette, desiring somehow to give her back her clothing, mix her a cup of undrugged tea, and sit her down some place respectable in order to explain everything. He would want to tell her what it had been like growing up in the Ken Central area, learning to fight with razor blades and broken bottles, running from the police and stealing cars, experimenting with drugs and tormenting teachers. He would want her to understand how it felt to hold a gun in his hand and fire a bullet into another human being, watch him die and then go for years wondering if the crime would ever be detected.
And then, too, she would need to comprehend the sensations, the excitement involved in planning a robbery and actually pulling it off and thinking you had gotten away clean until the knock came suddenly at the door during the bad-dream hours of the night, and the tough detective from the police station quietly slipped handcuffs around your wrists while two patrolmen held their pistols to your stomach and led you away. If the marijuana were not dulling his brain and hers, he would try to make her feel what it felt like to stand before a judge and hear yourself described as a menace to society and listen to the chairman of the jury read off the sentence of five long years in the
State Penitentiary.
And there were other things as well. He would have to explain how he had felt when Phil Matthews had first gotten him interested in books and learning and the possibility of a better life than being the leader of a gang of stupid thugs and the over-age quarterback of a high school football team. She would have to understand how he had hoped for the future, and how badly he had wanted to suppress all that was evil in him long enough to let her teach him what she knew about biology. He would have to confess how it had all gone wrong when he had listened to Ash, the voice of his own personal devil, and begun to think how it would be to possess her young innocent body instead of what she knew about biology. There would be a great deal to confess if he really wanted to tell it all, and what possible interest could she have in listening? She would never again regard him as anything but scum.
In fact, Kathleen Barton was past the stage of thinking. The terrible events of the past few hours together with the effects of the marijuana had dulled her brain to the point where she was virtually semi-conscious. She was dimly aware that her body was shivering when Swift put his hands on her, and she tried desperately to hold perfectly still, sensing like a wounded animal that this man was capable of great violence, and that her only salvation lay in absolute passivity. She was lying on her side, her hands clutched between her legs in the classic defensive posture of a woman being assaulted, but she felt her tiny brown nipples harden as his sensitive fingers brushed lightly over the full swollen globes of her breasts.
Bud Swift felt the young woman's body relax slightly as he continued to caress her gently and respectfully, running his hands slowly down over her slim waist and exciting himself with the magnificent vision of her entire naked body, a landscape of hollows and delicate indentations, soft rises and secret hiding places. For a moment, Swift had actually toyed with the idea of trying to make up for all the bad he had done by not forcing his way into her at this moment, but he knew that the temptation was too strong for him. And who could tell? Perhaps if he handed her her clothing and took her home in Matthew's car, she would have even less respect for him than before. If there was anything worse than a bad man, it is a bad man who loses his nerve at the last moment, and there was nothing wrong with Swift's nerves. Yes, he would take her, by God, he would fuck her good and proper, and perhaps this was the only way he could ever win her respect. Perhaps if he succeeded in doing something for her that no one else had ever done, then, just maybe . . . but Bud Swift was not much of a man for philosophical speculation. He rose to his feet, towering over her, and quickly stripped off his clothing.
There was a movement in the air, and Kathy opened her clouded eyes for a moment, catching sight of the naked man as he crouched over her, his hardened cock protruding like a spear from the forest of black pubic hair in his groin. She told herself that she ought to be afraid, since he was bigger by far than any of the others, but for some reason, there was no fear in her. There was nothing left now but resignation. If it was meant to happen, it would happen. He was in charge here. It was his show, not hers and this was not a class in biology. She closed her eyes again in subjugation as she felt his hands once again on her nakedly trembling body, rolling her over onto her back.
Swift knelt over her, like a man on his knees to pray, his hungering fingers coursing reverently over her ripely succulent breasts, the flat white plane of her stomach, and farther down to the soft moist triangle of pussy hair up between her legs. Swift expected her to react in some way, pulling her legs together or crossing her hands across the luxurious twin peaks of her breasts, but the beautiful teacher was too far gone for any of that now. Instead she remained the way he had arranged her, her firm young thighs falling helplessly apart. A surge of triumph roared up in Swift's chest as he realized that he was not going to have to rape her after all. She was giving in! She had thrown her cards on the table and surrendered! Was it the marijuana? Or something else?
He watched her carefully, like a surgeon eyes a patient during a delicate operation, his hand wandering gently down between her legs as he fingered her softly throbbing vagina, feeling that she was still moist and open from the brutal encounters she had experienced with the members of his gang. She moaned softly as he stroked her undefended pussy, her arms rising up over her head and grasping the corners of the mattress as if she was afraid of falling off. It seemed inconceivable, but Bud Swift was experienced enough to recognize all of the signs. This woman was slowly but surely turning on! Perhaps, just perhaps there was still a chance of saving something from the wreckage he had made of his life.
Kathy felt as if she had drifted off into another dimension, another world where all the everyday rules and laws of biology ceased to function. At first she was being raped, and then it had been sullen submission to the inevitable, and now this whole experience was changing into something much different. It no longer seemed to matter what the circumstances were, and she only knew that a strong naked man was hovering over her, slowly driving her wild with passion. She had tried hard to deny to herself that there was anything happening inside of her at all. She had attempted to feel disgust and revulsion at this dishonor, but somehow nothing would come. There were tiny licking flames of forbidden lust racing through her stricken body, and she knew in her marijuana-fogged brain that Swift would see the tips of her nipples standing out as hard and firm as pebbles and draw his own conclusions. Even if she succeeded in hiding the truth from herself, she could not hope to hide it from him.
"Ohhhhhhh! OOOhhhhhhh!" she heard a woman's voice in the room, only after a second or two realizing that it had been hers, and that she had spoken aloud.
Swift reacted, his own excitement now climbing quickly to the boiling point, bending over her and fastening his mouth against her, his tongue spearing between her lips, only to find her own tongue timidly reaching up to touch him back, a warm, wet contact which sent an immediate shudder through her lust-wracked body. Nor did she jerk away from him as his eager hands continued to swarm over her voluptuously exposed young body, and the inexperienced biology teacher found that her hips were becoming difficult to control. As he stretched himself over her, she felt the hardness of his rigidly pulsing cock dragging lightly over her stomach, and before she could stop herself, she found that she had arched her back, raising herself up to meet him as if she were answering some silent invitation.
"Oh God!" she muttered, her words distorted by the presence of his lips plastered hard against hers and her body quivering nearly out of control like a motor being raced until it is in danger of shaking itself into pieces. Swift maneuvered himself into position over her, one hand snaking down to investigate the whole of her wetly heated vaginal slit, and for a moment he fought off the temptation to plunge himself into her immediately. Why delay a moment longer? Was this not why he had brought her here?
The answer, of course, was yes, but still he held back. He had to be sure that this was not going to be simply another rape, for her or for him. Tonight he wanted nothing less than her total surrender. He did not want to take; he wanted to be given. It was worth the risk to go for the prize he really desired, and if he succeeded, perhaps it would change something later on.
"Touch me," he told her quietly, swallowing before speaking to make sure his words would be clear and authoritative. "Put your hand down here and touch my cock."
It was the acid test. Both of them were holding their breath, and there was a long torturous instant when no one moved, each of them waiting for the other to take some decisive action. Finally, it was Kathy who surrendered, and she was not quite sure why, but her hand moved seemingly of its own accord snaking down between their bodies until she found the throbbing hardness of his penis. Swift's body went rigid with tension as he felt her fingers close around his thickened shaft of flesh, gently tugging on the foreskin. For the time being, Swift seemed content to follow her lead, allowing her to draw him steadily in the general direction of her open willing cunt as if it were she who were taking the initiative and he were merely going along for the ride. It seemed like a fantasy beyond the scope of his wildest imagination, but the evidence of his eyes was convincing. She seemed to want it as badly as he did, even if she could not quite bring herself to open her mouth and tell him so. He knew that this was a moment which might never happen again if they both lived to be a hundred, but something perverse inside of him still held back from the final commitment which would be the act of plunging his long hard cock into the warmly receptive depths of her body. He poised over her like a reluctant diver trembling on the high board, waiting for a sign that she really knew what she was doing.
Once, it would have been enough for him merely to win her grudging acceptance; now, his standards had risen sharply and he wanted it all. He wanted to see her hungrily writhing beneath him, beside herself with unfulfilled, unsatisfied desire. He wanted to see her begging and pleading for him to fuck her, and now nothing less than a total unconditional surrender would do. With this one fuck, he was probably destroying his future, the only real chance he would ever have of escaping from the fetid slum of Ken Central, and if he was going to throw his life away with one sexual act, then he swore to himself that it would have to be a fuck she would remember to the end of her life!
The beautiful young school teacher was making tiny crying noises half-way between hysteria and laughter, her sensuously naked body gyrating back and forth on the soiled surface of the mattress. As he stroked her, the pulsating tip of his cock nuzzled in the warm flesh up between her widely spread thighs, causing a strange insistent hunger to ripple through her tormented body.
Was this what you always wanted? she asked herself dimly, her mind wandering in open-ended circles like a traveler lost in a dense woods. From the moment you first saw him abusing that young girl, did you really start to hope that he would do the same thing to you some day? Is that what you are deep down inside, a crazy masochistic little whore?
Her brain asked the questions but it was her lust-stricken body which provided the answer as she felt her hips twisting upward in a desperate lascivious attempt to force his wonderfully throbbing penis up inside of her ravenous womb.
Bud Swift levered up over the girl, treating himself to this vision of loveliness he was in the process of conquering. Kathleen Barton's face was contorted into a mask of undisguised passion, and her long brown hair disheveled now thrashed wildly back and forth while her mouth opened and closed as if she were gasping madly for air. Down farther between their two tension-packed bodies, he could see the steel-like shaft of his cock as it pointed directly into the warm moist embrace of her pussy. The lust-swollen tip of his penis was barely a half inch inside of the twin pink flanges of her vaginal slit, and he knew that she was half out of her mind with a perverse desire to have the rest of his hotly pulsating cock inside of her as well. Her quivering vaginal lips were pressing against the bulbous head of his cock from all sides as if they were begging to be penetrated, and the sight of all this unguarded lust excited the young man almost beyond endurance, making it more and more difficult for him to restrain himself.
As his eyes traveled up and down her ecstatic young body, Swift's glance fell upon Kathy's melon-like breasts which were jiggling provocatively back and forth on her chest as her whole body gyrated in sexual torment on the mattress. Acting on pure animal instinct, the hoodlum bent forward quickly, lowering himself on his powerful shoulder muscles like a man on the down stroke of a push-up, and planted a noisy wet kiss on each of her bullet-hard little nipples. These were the most perfect, the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen, either in real life or in pictures, and he found himself filled with the irrational desire to use them, to have them, to possess them in some way. But how? A man could not fuck a pair of breasts.
Or could he? Swift had never made love to a woman before who was big enough in the breasts to try out this particular little perversion, but he had an idea that Miss Barton's swollen mounds could be put to some lewd purpose. He had promised himself that he would take all of her, and these magnificent breasts were obviously the best part.
Moving carefully to avoid destroying the strangely self-sacrificing mood she seemed to be in, Swift inched his way up over her torso, his knees coming to rest on either side of her rib cage while his long throbbing cock extended out in front of him like a rifle barrel. Slowly, he lowered himself into position, his eagerly jerking cock waving back and forth between her two sensuously ripened breasts, while the young brunette teacher sitrred restlessly beneath him, obviously unhappy at this delay in the proceedings.
What was he doing? If he had decided to rape her, why was he taking so long about it? Kathy found herself wondering vaguely, ashamed to admit to herself that she was a little disappointed in not being raped as quickly as possible. She kept her eyes shut tightly, knowing that whatever weird jungle magic had settled over them could be destroyed by a moment of rationality if their eyes should chance to meet.
Swift found to her surprise that his hands were trembling as he touched her, but he had decided what he was going to do, and knew she was in no position to stop him now, or even object. She had already given too much away!
Pressing firmly from either side, he pushed her soft warm breasts together so that they trapped his twitching cock between them like a snake caught between two sponges, and then he began to knead them until he brought a moan of pleasure-pain to her lips. His biceps bulged as he pushed, really putting the pressure on to force her nipples so close that they were nearly touching, staring up at him like two blindly crossed eyes. As soon as he felt the pressure reach maximum, he began to rock slowly back and forth, driving his pole-like penis into her soft rubbery flesh like an earth-borer through sand, thrusting his thick hardness so far forward that the tip of his lust-bloated cock appeared high on her chest just beneath her chin, and then disappeared again into the silken flesh of her breasts. Each time his long thick penis emerged from this tantalizing artificial cunt, it left behind it a tiny glistening drop of the rich seminal fluid which was slowly oozing from the purplish gland.
This was perilous business, and several times Swift had to bring himself to a dead standstill or risk the danger of cumming too soon, ruining everything for himself and for her by spewing his searingly hot cum prematurely all over her neck. While he rested, allowing his excitement to cool like an engineer easing up on a steam engine, the young gang leader entertained himself by playing with his victim's lust-provoking breasts, twisting and tweaking the little brown nipples until she cried aloud with some weird combination of pain and rapidly growing ecstasy. Simultaneously he watched her beautiful face, playing her with all the deliberate skill of a master musician performing at a grand organ.
The girl was completely around the bend by this point, groans and little bird-like cries of hunger escaping unconsciously from her parted lips. From time to time, her heavily-lidded eyes would open, as if she were gradually regaining full consciousness, but Swift could tell from the dazed expression in her eyes that she was seeing little or nothing. Kathy Barton had been transformed from a prim and proper young biology teacher into a gasping groaning mass of raw lusting flesh, and she was no longer the slightest bit in control of her own body.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh," she was chanting rhythmically as he fucked ruthlessly into the velvety channel of her breasts, and Swift found himself watching her open mouth with a sudden morbid attention.
Don't push your luck too far, Swift tried to caution himself in his brain, there was no way of fighting it off. He knew that the others had cum in her mouth, and he wanted everything they had had. But he wanted it all given voluntarily. They had undoubtedly had to use violence to ram their lewd cocks into the unnatural sanctuary of her mouth. Would she take him willingly? Was this strange masochistic mood of subjugation and submission really that strong? He had to know! He had to discover precisely where the limits were, if there was any part of her which was still forbidden to him. If she would take him there, then in some macabre sense, he had won. It would be no longer rape!
But the thought of worming his thickly muscular cock between her full red sensuous lips almost caused him to cum right there on the spot, and he forced himself to wait another moment before moving forward to attempt this new outrage upon her helpless young body. Releasing his vise-like grip on the tenderness of her breasts, he inched his way forward so that his knees fitted neatly under her arms, enjoying an extra tingle of excitement as he felt her hands circle around and come to rest on his muscular thighs as if she wanted to hold him where he was. Leaning forward on his arms, he gently moved his hips forward so that the thick menacing shaft of his cock approached her face like a rocket entering the atmosphere of some forbidden planet. Closer and closer he came, until the underside of his long rigid instrument brushed across the moistness of her innocently parted lips, and his cum-laden balls tapped lightly against her chin. On the insides of his thighs, he could feel the firmly resilient mounds of her breasts which had been the object of his attentions the moment before, but were now almost forgotten as he pursued this new goal.
It had to be slow and careful or he would destroy whatever magical spell she was under. Whether she had been vanquished by the pot, or her own uncontrollable desires, or simple fatigue, Swift did not know and at this point, he hardly cared. He was almost there!
Slowly, he rose up on his haunches, allowing the pungent meaty tip of his invading cock to play lasciviously around the edges of her wetly parted lips. This was the critical moment, and the young man stopped breathing for a moment, waiting to see if she would snap her jaws tight in righteous anger, spinning her head indignantly to one side as she refused to accept this final, total humiliation.
But instead, she did nothing of the kind. Groaning pathetically like a sleeping child disturbed in its slumber, Kathy's mouth simply fell open and her head nodded forward slightly as she strained to take his offered manhood between her full sensuous lips. He was caught almost off-guard by this prompt and silent acceptance of his lewdly unspoken proposal, but he lost no time in capitalizing on the advantage he had gained, pressing forward in absolute delight until the glistening skin of his cock had disappeared half-way into her ovaled red mouth. It was not a sight he had ever expected to see, and he remembered vividly the circumstances of their first meeting when she had charged in from behind the door of the women's locker room, catching him in the act of performing this self-same obscene perversion with that stupid little sophomore girl. He grinned as he remembered the names she called him then. Who would have dreamed that so short a time later . . .
But the beautiful young teacher was not merely submitting to this abuse of her mouth.
She had never done this before with either of her two boy friends, and would have been horrified had either of them asked her to, but now that she was actually doing it, she found that it was not as bad as it might have seemed. Bud Swift was clean, and the taste of his warmly pulsating penis was salty and pungent, but not unpleasant, and she experimentally began using her tongue, swiping it across the broad leather surface of his cock-head while she sucked in on him. She could feel his hands on her cheeks as he gently pressed in on her to increase the pressure, and she understood what he was doing when he began flexing his hips methodically back and forth, moving the shaft of his penis regularly in and out of her hungrily sucking mouth.
The thought of what she was actually doing should have disgusted her, but Kathy found to her amazement that her own excitement was growing more fierce by the moment. Yes, she realized with a shock, she wanted to be misused and mistreated like this! Somewhere down inside of her there had been a deeply masochistic streak which had been hidden all these years, and the thought that he was using her tender young mouth precisely as if it were another cunt he could fuck to his heart's content filled her with a frenzy of unsatisfied desire unlike anything she had ever experienced before.
She began to suck on him hard now, anxious to please, to suck him dry, to make him groan with pure ecstasy when he shot his hot roiling cum into her throat. Her tongue lashed at the blunt tip of his manhood savagely, as if she had been born into this world for the sole purpose of sucking his cock and no other. All the gnawing hunger buried deep down inside of her vacant vagina seemed to have transferred itself to the sensitive insides of her mouth.
Bud Swift enjoyed his reputation as a tough guy, but he found himself compelled to moan like a child as he felt the fires beginning to light in his loins. At first he had merely intended to play around in her mouth just to see if it could be done before getting down to more serious business in her tight little cunt, but he realized that he was going to go all the way, making her submit to the carnal outrage of having her delicate mouth used as a repository for his boiling white sperm, grunting like a savage in the jungle, he stepped up the pace, flexing his loins rapidly in and out of the round little hole formed by the young woman's tightly ovaled lips. And he watched as he worked, driving himself into an absolute frenzy of excitement as he saw his saliva-slickened penis plunging rhythmically in and out of her greedily sucking mouth.
Swift could feel the whole room heating up as he drew inexorably towards his climax, the sweat pouring off his naked body in multiple rivulets, but the girl seemed totally unconscious of everything else in the world except the pleasure she derived from the job she was doing. Her mouth was filling slowly with a mixture of saliva and seminal emissions from the burning tip of his cock, but she swallowed and went on sucking as if her life depended upon it.
Then, suddenly, it all began to happen, starting with a rush from deep in his loins which nothing in the universe could possibly have stopped. A long white stream of hot angry cum boiled up from somewhere in the athlete's convulsing body, spraying out madly into the frantically gulping cavern of her mouth. Her cheeks bulged out as the fiery liquid squirted into her, and the school teacher gurgled and choked as she voraciously gulped each spurt of the lust-inspiring fluid.
The gang leader gasped as he felt the last of his manhood trickle into her, feeling his wildly jerking cock begin to go limp as the original lust-driven force of his body emptied itself into the biology teacher's helpless throat. It was over, the most cataclysmic orgasm he had ever experienced, and for a moment, he merely rested on his elbows, her face buried deep in his groin, too tired to pull himself free of her soft warm lips.
It was then that he made the discovery that stunned him. She was still sucking! Apparently still possessed by whatever nymphomaniac madness had come over her, the young school teacher continued to hold his drooping penis tenderly between her lips, swallowing occasionally as she choked down the last traces of his sticky white cum. Her body was still in motion and as he glanced quickly behind him, Swift could see that her smoothly curving hips were undulating rhythmically up and down as if she were being possessed by some ghostly invisible lover. The fluff of her dark-brown pussy hair was matted and moist, and he could see the wetly gleaming lips of her sweet little pussy spread open like the front doors on a barn, desperately inviting someone to enter. For a moment, he regretted bitterly that he had spent all his force in her mouth, leaving nothing with which to finish the job properly.
But her insane sucking was not as crazy as it had just seemed, since Swift felt his cock stirring restlessly again as her tongue bathed him in warmness, and the girl seemed to know exactly what she was doing, methodically bringing his virile instrument back to life like a nurse resuscitating an accident victim, delighting in her magic power to make him grow hard and firm again between her lips.
When he was completely erect again, she slowly dropped her head back to the pillow, her hands wrapped firmly around the base of his cock as if she were holding on for dear life, the strings of clinging white semen still connecting the red bulbous tip to the glistening red flesh of her lips. Swift knew what was expected of him at this point; he'd had his lesson and now it was time for the homework. And there was no point in delaying a moment longer.
A kind of a truce, a peace, an understanding had been reached between them. Tomorrow, no one could tell what might happen, but in this moment in history, Bud Swift, ex-convict, thug, gang leader, and the voluptuous young biology teacher from the right side of the tracks were lovers.
CHAPTER SIX
She was ready, perfectly and completely ready, and Swift could feel the wet open moistness of her cunt as he slid down into position. Moving quickly, he deftly separated the sparse brown pubic hairs with his agile fingers, guiding the massive tip of his cock directly into the target area and feeling her open up to him as he glided easily and calmly into the warm clasping depths of her succulent young body. There was no pain, no resistance left in her. Kathy's previous encounters with the other three members of the gang had left her well-stretched and moist, and despite the unusual size of the young man's eagerly pulsing cock, she found no difficulty in accepting him into her waiting vagina.
"Ahhhhhhh!" she moaned in pure, unashamed happiness as he thrust into her, his steel-hard shaft of flesh driving all the way up to the tenderness of her cervix. The lust-wracked young school teacher wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and crooned in a sexual delirium, as if she were irrationally afraid he would try to leave her at this critical moment. While he began fucking energetically in and out of her, her sensually ripened body jerked and convulsed as if she were receiving electroshock treatment. A light fragrant sheen of perspiration covered her soft velvety flesh, and her long brown hair flared out over her head like a halo. This woman was not going to be long in cumming, Swift sensed accurately, and he doubled his stroke, wanting to make it a orgasm she would remember the rest of her life.
"Ah, go ahead!" she groaned as he fucked up into her unmercifully. "That's right! Oh . . . God . . . so . . . wonderful."
Kathy had lost all sense of shame, pleading with the man who was raping her to do it harder and faster. Swift responded by cupping the wildly churning cheeks of her naked buttocks in his hands and lifting her writhing young body clear off the bed in order to be able to penetrate even more deeply than before. Using every muscle in his athlete's body, he fucked into her, feeling the hot convulsing flesh of her pussy clasping tightly around his long pistoning penis. Her nostrils were flaring wildly, like a mare feeling the power of the stallion, and her own mother would not have recognized her in this moment.
Swift levered up over her as the critical moment arrived, realizing that this was a sight he did not want to miss seeing, even at the price of diminishing his own pleasure somewhat. As the man changed position, the girl trembling on the edge of the most violent orgasm of her life adapted herself quickly to this new posture, moving her hands butterfly-like from his muscular shoulders down to his rock-hard ass-cheeks as if she were trying to pull him even more deeply inside of her. She was as slippery as a fish to hang onto since both their gyrating bodies were now bathed in sweat, and Swift could feel her fingernails digging fiercely into the toughened flesh of his buttocks, egging him on to almost superhuman efforts.
"Oh fuck me, fuck me! Harder!" she groaned insistently, thrashing back and forth beneath him like a woman possessed by the devil, her open mouth searching recklessly for his as her moment of triumph and defeat inexorably approached.
"Oh Christ," she said suddenly, her voice now shocked, as if she had suddenly regained her sanity and could not quite believe what was happening to her. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"
Kathy Barton's nakedly writhing body arched up to meet him as the hot orgasmic fluid from her convulsing young pussy washed out of her in veritable torrents, flooding around Bud's pistoning cock while the powerful cuntal muscles in her body bore down upon him with an enormous pressure.
Swift had cum himself only a few minutes before, but the tension was too much to be resisted. There was the same volcanic eruption in his sperm-laden balls, and he felt himself cumming all over again! Moving up over her still lewdly writhing body, he forcefully threw her thighs up over his shoulders and ground down into her with enough power to break her back in two. The explosion went on and on for both of them until it seemed that they were both hanging in mid-air like a jet pilot at the apogee of a climb, and it was a long time before gravity took over again and pulled them softly back to earth.
Swift eased his slowly deflating cock out of the biology teacher's battered young cunt, truly exhausted from the effort he had put forth, and looked vaguely around for his pants. There was a movement in the next room, and he wondered if his crew of thugs was waking from their drunken slumber and whether or not they would feel like another crack at the girl. He resolved that he would not permit them to touch her again! She had suffered enough. The school teacher had sighed deeply and rolled nakedly onto her stomach, apparently having drifted off to sleep. As soon as she was rested, they would dress her and drive her home. The fun was over.
Swift located his clothing, and hopped on one foot as he climbed back into his pants. There was a flash of light at the door as someone entered, and Bud Swift looked up to find himself staring down the barrel of a pistol. Holding the weapon was Philip Matthews. There was a savage expression on the English teacher's face which Swift had never seen before, and for the first time in his life, the gang leader knew what it felt like to be afraid.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Oh, damn, damn, what happened?" Philip Matthews tried to raise himself up on his arms, failed, tried again and succeeded in hoisting himself into something resembling a sitting position. There was an ache in the back of his head which was nearly blinding him with pain, and the room seemed to be spinning wildly around on some particularly unpleasant axis of its own. Where was he? What had happened?
"You'll be okay," he heard a woman's voice reassuring him sympathetically. "You were so brave! How on earth did you ever find me?"
It was an effort of heroic proportions, but Matthews managed to get his eyes open and watched the room gradually drift to a halt as he tried to get the sequence of events straight in his head. Kathy Barton was sitting next to him, now fully dressed, holding his hand affectionately and offering him a half-filled bottle of whiskey.
"Here, drink this, Phil," she suggested calmly. "It might help the pain. They left it behind when they ran."
It seemed like a good idea, and the English teacher took the bottle, noticing that his hands were shaking and hoping that the girl would not make the same observation. The whiskey was raw and cheap, but it did help considerably. He smelled the faint scent of liquor on her breath and guessed that she had already sampled some of her own remedy.
"What happened to them? Where did they go?" he demanded, grateful at least that they were gone. He did not feel particularly courageous at this moment, and the thought of confronting Bud Swift in his present weakened condition did not appeal to him in the slightest.
'They ran away," Kathleen Barton answered simply. "After you came in with the pistol, they all seemed to get frightened and ran away. But they took the pistol with them. Maybe they thought the police were coming."
"But what happened to me?" he demanded, still impatient with the situation. "I had just walked in and was trying to decide what to do and somebody turned all the lights out!"
"Chubs. I never thought anybody so fat could move so fast, but he seemed to come out of a dead sleep in an instant, and the first thing I saw when I looked up was his hand coming down on the back of your head. Does it still hurt?"
"Don't worry about me," he replied, suddenly remembering that he was the brave rescuer and not the victim. "Are you all right? What did they do to you?"
"Well, about what you'd expect, I guess," she responded slowly, looking away in acute embarrassment. "I don't think your plan to salvage Bud Swift is working very well."
"The bastards!" he swore, this being the strongest curse word Matthews had in his vocabulary. "Well, I don't have any plans for Swift anymore, except seeing that he goes to jail as fast as possible. But how in heck did he think he was going to get away with it? The only way he could hope to evade punishment would be by killing both of us, and he had the chance to do it. Why did he bother running away? He must know that the cops will get him sooner or later?"
"I . . . I don't understand, but I don't think he ever had any intention of killing me," she stammered uneasily. "He told me the police would never believe me if I made a complaint, and the others said they'd get me if I went to the law. Philip, I'm so frightened. I just want to get out of here. Can you walk?"
Philip Matthews found that he could, even if just barely, and the two of them staggered down the dark flights of stairs, looking nervously at every flickering shadow. His wrist watch told him that he had been unconscious for nearly a half hour, and he thought of the young woman's bravery, sitting alone by his side in that abandoned building, waiting for him to regain consciousness, knowing that the gang could get its nerve together and return at any moment to kill and silence them both forever.
"It sounds to me as if he's got a fast one up his sleeve," decided Matthews as he reached his car, miraculously still parked in the same spot. "But we'll let the police play detective. The station house isn't far from here."
"Phil, before we go, I want to . . . I mean, you know what happened to me and I'm still a little upset. I want to rest for a few minutes someplace where I feel safe and use a bathroom . . . could you drive me home first, and then we'll call the police on the telephone? Maybe we can go down in the morning to do the paperwork?"
"Okay, but. . . look, are you sure you're all right? You must have gone through hell up there. Maybe I should take you to a hospital?"
"No, I'm going to be okay . . . they were pretty rough but I'm a strong girl.. . oh, I wish it hadn't happened!" She was speaking the truth. Bud Swift had clearly put himself outside the law by kidnapping her, and she knew she could not avoid making a complaint against him, but she had weakened her own moral position by surrendering so completely and becoming such an obvious slave to her own lewd passions. How could she testify against him in a court when they both knew how she had behaved while she was being "raped"? She wished she could explain everything honestly to someone sympathetic like Phil Matthews, but she understood quickly that a full confession was out of the question. This man had risked his life to try to save her from the humiliation and sexual degradation the gang had brutally subjected her to; she could hardly explain at this point that her last vicious assailant had given her the most powerful sexual experience of her life!
The car started, another miracle, and silently they drove out of the Ken Central slum towards the girl's apartment as Matthews followed the girl's whispered instructions. He chatted nervously as he maneuvered the automobile through darkened streets, explaining how his father had given him the pistol before he died and mentioning that he had never had occasion to use it before. It was not registered with the police, and he wondered if he would get into trouble for having carried it, even in an emergency. And having a loaded pistol in the hands of Bud and his goons did not make for a relaxing situation.
Besides, none of it really made sense! What had made Swift think he could possibly get away with it? An ordinary punk from the streets might have embarked upon an adventure of this kind without much thought for future consequences, but Swift was the possessor of a massive I.Q., and the act of putting himself in a position where he was destined to go back to jail seemed untypically stupid of him. Well, Matthews decided, they would know soon enough. Perhaps Swift had decided to return to a life of crime, disappearing for good, and this was his last hurrah before sinking into the morass of the Ken Central slum.
"This is the place here," commented Kathy
Barton, disturbing her friend's meditations and indicating a respectable brown-stone apartment building. "It'll scandalize my landlady, but I wish you'd come up with me."
"Oh, I just thought of another thing we'd better do before we call the police," recalled the English teacher as they climbed the stairs to the young woman's apartment. "There's a Kensington Central School regulation which says that before a criminal complaint can be made by a teacher against a student, the principal must be notified. They invented it a couple of years ago to keep some of our nervous nellies on the faculty from frivolously calling the police over some minor matter, but it's a rule, and I suppose we'd better play the game."
"Could you do it?" pleaded the young woman wearily. "I don't think I want to talk to Mr. Parsons right now."
* * *
"Who? Oh Matthews it's you! Yeah, yeah, I know all about it. Mark Hanson just called and he and the boys are on their way down here now. I think I can talk'em out of preferring charges against you for carrying a deadly weapon, but it was a damn stupid thing for a man in your position to have done, I'll say that much!"
For a moment, the school teacher was too shocked to respond. Then his anger boiled over and he snarled into the telephone at his superior.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he shouted. "We're filing charges against those monsters for kidnapping and rape, and if I have anything to say about it, they're going to jail for the rest of their lives, all of them!"
"Rape? What happened? Has our little girl friend decided it was rape?" laughed the principal harshly. "I think that's a little story she made up to save face in front of you, Phil. She went there willingly, and there's no question about that in my mind."
"She was kidnapped, I'm telling you!" Matthews screamed, virtually beside himself with anger. "I'm going to have them all thrown in jail!"
"Look, why don't you and Miss Barton come down and meet me in my office," suggested the principal. "Hanson and his boys are coming down, and I'm sure all of this can be straightened out quickly enough. I'm sure I'll be able to get you out of difficulty, although I think we may have to discharge Miss Barton. Can't have our faculty members behaving like that, can we?"
There was a click on the phone and Matthews realized that the conversation was over, whether he liked it or not. Something was very strange here and nothing made the slightest bit of sense. Parsons was probably a corrupt man, and he liked the idea of having a winning football team every year, but he would hardly join a conspiracy with a group of students to protect them after they had raped an innocent female teacher. Or would he?
"I know," Kathy nodded soberly as he turned to relate what Mr. Parsons had said. "They're claiming I went along for the ride."
"Kathy . . . what can I say? You . . . you didn't go with . . . I can't bring myself to suggest it."
"You don't have to," she snapped bitterly. "No, I agreed to meet him in the tea room to talk about Charles Darwin and the Voyage of the Beagle. It was stupid, I suppose, but the tea room seemed safe, and he was so.. . so interested. I couldn't believe it was all an act. Then, they must of drugged me, because I don't remember anything until I woke up in that place."
"Okay, let's go," Matthews decided abruptly. "Let's get this little confrontation scene over with, and then we go to the police. If Swift gets away with this, then we might as well close down the school because no teacher will ever be able to feel safe again in a classroom. Damn! I should have shot the . . . the bastard when I had the chance.
"Phil, you could never shoot anyone, except in self-defense," she consoled him, stepping up beside him and taking his arm affectionately. "You . . . you were so brave tonight, and I'm sorry about that time when I questioned your courage. Come on, let's get this over with."
* * *
Mark Hanson smiled broadly at Phil Matthews as the English teacher led the blushing young woman into the principal's office. Kathy looked at the floor, trying to avoid everyone's eyes while the three members of Swift's gang sprawled carelessly on a couch. Only Swift himself seemed to be nervous and ill at ease.
"Well, this is one heck of a mess," announced Parsons, making himself comfortable behind his desk and lighting up his usual fat cigar. "We have female teachers consorting with groups of students consorting sexually, I should say and we have a man with a Master's degree running around in the middle of the night waving a pistol and threatening to kill half of our football team. Do you want to explain yourselves, you two?"
Kathy and Phil had previously agreed that Phil would do the talking, and the English teacher controlled his temper with a visible effort still convinced that some profound misunderstanding was taking place which would be corrected as soon as the facts could be clarified. Without looking at the football players he was supposed to have threatened, he launched into a long and detailed description of the situation as he understood it, reasoning and arguing like the lawyer for the prosecution. Hanson smiled broadly throughout the entire lecture, occasionally glancing encouragingly at his proteges on the football team and making a great show of the fact that none of this was worrying him excessively.
"And those are the facts as I know them, Mr. Parsons," Phil Matthews concluded sincerely after a five minute oration, "Miss Barton was tricked into drinking tea with Swift who had arranged for the tea to be drugged by Chubs, who works as a waiter in the tea room for a couple of hours after school each day. Then she was taken to the abandoned building to be sexually assaulted, and I intend to see that a criminal complaint is made to the police!"
"Mr. Parsons, I would like to say one thing here," asserted Mark Hanson, getting to his feet easily and stepping towards the principal's desk. The whole scene was getting to look more and more like a trial by jury with Mr. Parsons acting as the judge. "It's pretty well known around the school that Phil Matthews and I have never seen eye to eye on much of anything, but I think we've always respected one another as honest teachers and gentlemen. To me it is perfectly obvious that he is the innocent victim in this whole ugly affair, and I propose to use whatever influence I have with these students to see that no criminal charges are placed against him for use of a deadly weapon. It's clear to me that he has been completely taken in by this woman's lying attempt to protect her shattered reputation and, of course, he has not had the advantage of hearing all the facts."
Matthews boiled inside as he heard this unctuous and deliberately deceitful talk. To listen to Hanson pretend to be defending him was the most infuriating thing which had ever happened at Ken Central as far as he was concerned, and for a moment, he desperately wished for fifty pounds of muscle and a foot of height to be added to his slender stature, so that he could deal with the gym teacher man to man.
"What other facts?" he snapped angrily. "Let's hear all these so-called facts of yours."
"Calm down, Phil," advised the gym teacher pleasantly. 'This isn't the first time in history a girl decided it was rape when someone she knew walked in and surprised her. But the fact is, my friend, that Kathleen Barton has had the hots for Bud Swift since the first day she laid eyes on him. Why it was only the other day that she asked me for his home telephone number . . . "
"That's a lie!" gasped the young woman, speaking up on her own defense for the first time. "I've never done any such thing."
"Well, naturally, we would have to expect her to deny it, but then we have the undeniable fact that she did call Swift to set up their appointment in the tea room, something she could not have done if she didn't have the number I gave her to begin with."
"I never . . . " Kathy began again, but Parsons interrupted her, cross-examining Hanson like a district attorney.
"What reason did she give for asking for the number?" the principal demanded.
"Well, she said she wanted to counsel him on doing his homework more promptly," alleged Hanson, "But I could tell from the way she was blushing and avoiding my eyes that it was something more serious than homework she was after."
"These are lies . . . " Kathy tried to inject. "Well, Swift, did she call you?" Parsons insisted.
"Yes, Sir," mumbled the student, looking at the floor as he answered, obviously ashamed of his behavior in front of Kathy and Matthews but unable to do anything about it at this stage of the game. "She called and said we should meet after school and then go out and have some fun."
"That's a lie!" Kathy was groaning over and over again as if she were speaking to herself. "Everything they're saying is a lie."
"Perhaps a judge will have to decide that," commented Parsons severely, leaving no doubt as to whom he chose to believe. "Are you two still determined to create a terrible scandal and call the police?"
"You are damn right we are," affirmed Matthews, but his voice was weak, and a trickle of wonder was starting to infiltrate his brain. Could he have been wrong? Could it be that she had gone willingly with Swift and had only claimed she had been kidnapped to save face when he came barging in, a foolish would-be hero? No! He could not face the thought! She had to be innocent.
"Well, I guess that leaves us no choice," Hanson remarked philosophically, as if he were speaking to himself. "About the pictures, I mean. Sure hate to see those photographs get into circulation . . . "
"What photographs?" questioned Matthews levelly, wondering what new spoiled meat was being tossed into an already rancid stew. Kathy looked up suddenly, her memory reaching back to her first moments of consciousness after she had awakened alone in the deserted building and had heard the gang talking in the next room. "Look at this one," someone had said as she was emerging from the fogs of the drug. "That'd convince any judge in the world. "
Hanson nodded at Ash as if he were expected to respond to the question.
"Well, when we all got up to the pad, Kathy excuse me, I mean Miss Barton, but she told us to call 'er Kathy Miss Barton saw this camera I had and said it would be fun if we took some pictures . . . you know, pictures of us while we were givin' it to her. We all took turns and shot a couple of rolls."
"Where are these pictures?" Parsons asked severely.
Ash removed a paper-covered packet from his pocket and laid it respectfully on the principal's desk. The cigar-smoker spilled the photos out on the blotter and began pawing through them, his eyes growing wide with shock and perhaps a sudden rush of lust as he saw what they revealed. Catching the look on the principal's face, Matthews sprang to his feet without waiting for an invitation and leaned over the desk to examine this so-called evidence.
They were the worst things he had ever seen, and the young English teacher's hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the desk to support himself. There, in front of him in photograph after photograph, was the lushly naked body of Kathleen Barton, stretched out on the same mattress where he had found her a few hours before. Her sex partners varied from picture to picture, but in every case she was committing some obscene act with one of the four football players, and the photography was sufficiently clear to leave no doubt about what she was doing.
Blushing with embarrassment, Matthews picked up one particularly pornographic shot and held it closer to the light. It was Kathy's face, cruelly distorted by a man's long rigid cock which had been thrust obscenely in her mouth half-way to the hilt. Immediately all his previous doubts came sweeping back to him. Was it possible that he was letting himself fall in love with a nymphomaniac? The evidence was mounting against her minute by minute, and
Matthews picked up a second photograph and studied it carefully, feeling his penis stir restlessly in his pants. The photograph he was now examining showed Kathy bent over in a humiliating position with Ash about to plant his lips on the tiny puckered ring of her anus. Another featured Miss Barton with a man's cock in each hand, lying face down on the mattress. But there was something strange about all of these pictures, and it took the English teacher to put his finger on the problem.
Her eyes were always closed! In every case, the camera had caught Kathy with her eyes closed, her face totally immobile and blank as if she were sleeping through this orgy of carnal pleasure. Of course, it finally hit him like a thunderbolt, she was still drugged! They must have stripped her defenseless body naked and taken these pictures as a guarantee against being denounced to the police. No wonder they were so cocky about not being arrested! If she called the police, they would present these horrible photographs as proof that she had cooperated in her own ravishment.
And the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that they were going to get away with it. With Hanson on their side, testifying that Kathy had hot pants for Swift, and these photographs to back up their case, the best they could expect would be a long and messy trial, probably ending in acquittal for lack of proof. And naturally, Kathy's reputation would be thoroughly destroyed in the process.
"I think you may win this round," he spat at Hanson, ignoring the others. "Mark, I honestly never believed you could sink this low."
"That's life, Phil old boy," rejoined the gym teacher affably, smiling at him as if they had just played a good round of chess and Matthews had lost.
"Well, we still have some unresolved issues here," protested the principal as he saw the head of the English Department take Miss Barton's arm and guide her gently out of the room. "There are some questions in my mind about this woman's moral suitability . . . "
"Oh drop dead!" snapped Matthews, now thoroughly depressed and not caring whether they fired him or not. There was a suppressed giggle from the three football players as the two teachers stalked off into the night.
* * *
"Hey, where'd Swifty go?" Chubs wanted to know, as the three gang members emerged from the school building. "Ah, he's got a hair up his ass," complained Ash, now enjoying his role as leader of the gang and anxious to keep Bud Swift out of the limelight until he could consolidate his leadership of the group. "Swifty's gettin' old, fellows! Ain't got the balls for our kinda fun and games anymore!"
"What we gonna do now?" wondered Jose as the three of them walked through the parking lot. "Really pisses me off the way Matthews tried to get us all sent to the clink. Who's that mother-fucker think he is, anyway?"
"Ah, the little prick!" retorted Ash venomously. "He just hates the football team and he hates the Coach. I'm gonna have to give some thought to the business of gettin' even with our little Mr. Matthews."
"Fuck Matthews, what I wanna know is who does that bitch think she is, complaining to Parsons? We told'er what we'd do if she opened her trap, and I think we oughta do it! Besides, I wasn't finished with her by a long shot!" Chubs put in, anxious to seem as vicious as anyone else.
"Yeah, you're starting me thinking, Chubs," mused Ash as the three of them stood in the shadows, watching Mr. Matthews and Miss Barton walk toward Matthews' car. "Maybe the night ain't over yet, and we kin kill us two birds with one stone."
"Whatcha thinkin', man?" Chubs wondered eagerly, always ready for more trouble.
"I'm thinking about that beautiful little thirty-eight caliber pistol old Matthews was kind enough to give us which is still sittin' in my pocket jus' begging to be used for somethin'. And I'm also thinking about some of the nice things I was fixing to do to that lady teacher and never got the chance."
"Shit man, you ain't thinkin' of pickin' them up again, are ya? Shouldn't we ask Swifty?"
"Fuck Swifty!" exploded Ash with irritation. "Fer one thing, he ain't here, so we can't ask him nothing. And fer another thing, we don't need that guy anymore! If he wants to wander by tonight, we jus' might let him have a piece of ass, after we's finished, naturally."
"Let's go," urged Jose, his voice a low hoarse hiss in the darkness. "We gotta move now if we're gonna move and I got a hard-on jus' thinkin' about it!"
* * *
The owner of the second-hand book store did not appear to be overjoyed as Swift entered his shop because he had been robbed by young punks just like this one, and he knew he was destined to be robbed again before his commercial career was over. He actually ran a profitable but illegal bookie business out of a back room, and therefore was not terribly concerned with losing a few dollars to an occasional thief, but guns upset him, and the business of being robbed was beginning to become tiresome. On the other hand, there was just an outside chance that this particular punk wanted to buy a book or place a bet, so the store-keeper nodded affably as the young man scanned the volumes available for sale.
"Got some good skin mags under the counter, if you're in the market," he offered jovially, reaching beneath his desk for a sample of the pornographic magazines he occasionally managed to hustle.
"Nan, I'm looking for something to read," commented Swift morosely. In fact, he was merely killing time while he tried to figure out what to do with the rest of his life, and he had wandered into this particular bookstore on a whim. What now? Should he go back to Ken Central High School on Monday morning, his homework neatly done and sit in the front row of Miss Barton's class, volunteering to answer questions and maybe even clean the blackboard after the lecture? Somehow it seemed a bit late for that now. Or did he go to Phil Matthews and try somehow to explain how he had not wanted to do what he very clearly had done? It was a little late for that as well. Matthews was pretty obviously in love with Kathleen Barton, and it did not seem terribly likely that he would be kind and forgiving with the man who had kidnapped and raped her. It was a little late for almost anything.
"Got a lot of novels here," volunteered the bookstore owner. "Half price if they're used, and they're all used."
"You got any school books?" asked Swift. "I'm . . . I'm going to college next year and I.. . I thought I'd study up."
"Hmmmmmm, don't get much of a call for school books," admitted the owner who was privately wondering about the fate of a certain horse in the third race at the local track. "Coupla things back in that corner there."
"Yeah, here's a book," Swift muttered to himself, spotting a title he had heard of and tossing it onto the shop owner's desk. "How much?"
"Thirty-five cents," replied the bookie, watching the punk carefully. Sometimes they offered to buy something before reaching for their guns so they could find out where the money was kept. A quarter and a dime bounced onto the counter, however, and he carefully picked up the change as the tattered paperback disappeared into the punk's back pocket, and the punk himself disappeared into the violent Ken Central night.
* * *
They did it clumsily, like two teenagers on their first date, but somehow as Matthews turned to help Kathy Barton into the front seat of his car, she blundered instead into his arms, burying her face in his neck as she sobbed passionately.
"It's all right, honey," he tried to console the grief-stricken young woman, as he felt her sensuously firm breasts pressing into his chest, exciting him sexually despite the tragedy of the situation. "Let's not even try to think anymore about it tonight. We have the whole weekend to relax and decide what to do."
"Oh, Phil," she mumbled through her tears. "You've been so good to me . . . and you've turned out to be such a real man, and I've caused you all this trouble."
Matthews felt his penis twitching impatiently, and the thought of taking her home to bed that very night passed quickly through his brain. The gang had apparently not seriously injured her, and it was obvious that the two of them were falling in love . . . if not tonight then certainly tomorrow . . . the terrible things which had happened had somehow pulled them together as if it were just them against the world. Phil Matthews realized that his cock was now as rigid as a board, and he wondered in a brief moment of embarrassment if she could feel his hardness pressing against her abused and battered loins. But if she could feel him urgently crushed against her, she did not seem to mind and lifted her face to his to be kissed.
But suddenly, there was the blunt end of a pistol pressing painfully into his back and vicious words coming into his ears.
"All right, you two love birds," Ash ordered bitingly. "Stop dry-fucking and get into the car."
"Oh no," Kathy groaned as Phil released her, instinctively raising his hands above his head.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Matthews stumbled clumsily with intense fatigue and a crushing feeling of helplessness as the gang pushed and prodded the kidnapped couple up the last flight of stairs to their place of concealment in the abandoned school house.
"Get your ass up them stairs," snarled Ash viciously, striking the young English teacher hard across the back of the head with his free hand while he prodded Kathy Barton in the ribs with the loaded thirty-eight. Another few steps, and the three gang members herded their captives into the school room with the mattress while Chubs busied himself with lighting the kerosene lantern, throwing a murky flickering illumination across the ram-shackle den.
"So you thought you'd made a little trouble for us, eh?" demanded Jose angrily, his courage bolstered by the facts that Ash still held the pistol at Matthews' back, ready to fire if need be. "Well, teach, we're gonna make you do some sufferin' fer that, and the sufferin' starts now."
Without warning, the football player's hand came out of nowhere, catching the English teacher across the side of the head and nearly knocking him over. Matthews tried and failed to prevent a grunt of pain from escaping his lips, but he recovered his balance almost immediately, his mind working fast despite the fatigue and pain he was feeling.
"You're pretty brave, aren't you, Jose?" he said challengingly, trying to keep his naturally tenor voice as low and steady as possible. "Ash might put the gun away and then we'd see how you do when it's man to man."
Matthews was reasonably sure that Jose could beat the tar out of him, gun or no gun, but he was cunningly hoping to create a diversion of some kind. If the gang could be persuaded to concentrate its hostility on him, there was an outside possibility that Kathy might have the opportunity to slip away. The last few hours had been teaching Matthews a few things about himself, and he was slowly discovering that he had more courage than he had ever realized, not to mention the fact that being in love with a beautiful woman helped his manhood considerably.
"Well now, that's a mighty interesting proposition, Teach," responded the hoodlum insultingly as he stepped back to survey Matthews' slender form. The two men were about the same height and weight, but Jose had spent every afternoon for the past four years attending football practice, and he was in superb physical condition. The school teacher was a normally healthy man in his early thirties, but he was clearly no match for a punk who had been involved in fights regularly since his childhood. Nevertheless, Jose thought it would be fun.
"Hey, we come up here fer fightin' or fuckin'? " Chubs wanted to know in his heavy stupid way. "I wanna get my ol' cock into the lady teach here. We kin fool around with Matthews later."
Ash made the final decision.
"Yeah, we got some lessons to teach you, Matthews, about keeping yer big nose outa things what don' concern ya, but first we're gonna give some private instruction to yer girl friend here. Get some wire down off that there wall, Chubs and let's tie him up. He kin watch! I ain't shy and maybe he'll learn somethin' about fuckin from watchin' a couple a' real men work over his hot little girl friend."
The work was done in a moment. Chubs pulled a long electric cord off of the wall, bringing down a shower of plaster dust on top of them while Ash and Jose cooperated in bending Phil's arms painfully behind him. The naked wire bit harshly into his flesh, and the school teacher struggled for all he was worth, knowing as he fought that it was useless, but convinced that he had to show them that he was not afraid.
It made very little difference. When his wrists were secured, they backed him up to the door and fastened the wire to the door knob, making him completely helpless.
"Kin we fuck 'er now, Ash?" demanded the idiotic Chubs impatiently, moving menacingly towards the terrified young woman who was cowering in a corner. Of course, she had been through this all once before, and they had not been particularly gentle the first time, but she had survived mostly because of the pain-killing effects of the cocaine and marijuana. Now she would have no chemical assistance, and this time the gang hated her as well as lusting after her body. The first time they merely wanted to satisfy their brutal carnal lusts. This time they wanted revenge.
"Go git 'er, Chubs," responded Ash nonchalantly, deciding it would be useful in consolidating his leadership if he let the others go first. Besides, it looked as if the girl was going to fight back for all she was worth, and Ash wisely decided that a few minutes with Chubs was an ideal way to soften her up.
The big moronic football player's mind almost disappeared in an internal frenzy of lust as he received his leader's permission to do whatever he wanted with the helpless young woman before him. Moving forward as if he were closing a gap in the defensive line, Chubs thundered across the room, pinning the girl to the wall with such force that he knocked the breath from her battered body. Desperately fighting back, Kathy tried to punch him with her tiny clenched fists, but it was like a gazelle boxing with an elephant. With one mountainous sweep of his massive arm, the big football player knocked the girl to her knees.
"You bastard!" shouted Matthews in rage, and Ash reacted quickly to this verbal interference, slamming his fist into the school teacher's stomach. When Phil doubled over in pain, Ash aimed a kick at his groin. There was a loud crunch and a shrill animal-like scream of agony as the point of his leather boot slammed into the teacher's testicles. His hand only a blur, he began slapping and back-landing the bound man until Phil's eyes rolled up in his head and he slumped forward, unconscious, held erect only by the cord binding his hands to the doorknob.
Chubs was paying no attention to anything just now but the task before him. Dropping to his knees next to the stunned young woman, he began insanely ripping the clothing from her lushly trembling young body, no longer possessing enough patience to bother with buttons and zippers. The girl was struggling senselessly, but Chubs' fingers found their way to her neck and with a deft flick of his wrist, the giant stripped her to the waist, carrying away the shredded blouse and the fragile fabric of her brassiere in one clean abrupt movement of his arm and leaving her full, lust-arousing breasts naked before the unbridled fury of his lewd passion. Kathy made one last desperate effort to wiggle away from the lust-ridden monster, but Chubs let fly a vicious backhand and she collapsed like a deck of cards, hitting the floor and sprawling on her back.
Grunting with animalistic carnality, Chubs yanked the brief wrap-around skirt free of the young teacher's slender hips and then tore away away her panties as if they were made of tissue paper. She was now completely naked and helpless before the drooling giant, and she began sobbing as she realized no one could help her now.
Wide-eyed and in terror, she stared over toward the-unconscious Phil Matthews and felt a sharp pang of pity and affection as she saw the blood running from his split lip and nose. Then all her senses came back to Chub.
Mumbling one vile and unintelligible obscenity after another, the dim-witted football player threw his enormous weight on top of her nakedly resisting body, knocking the breath out of her again, his hands busily prying between her long, tightly clamped legs as he forced himself into position. Taking only an instant to free his thick rigid cock from the confines of his pants, Chubs wasted no time with foreplay or preliminaries and Kathy cried in dismay as she saw the long hard rod of his cock coming closer to the wide split crevice of her helpless vagina. She knew there was nothing in the world to prevent this ton of lard from viciously ramming his blunt-tipped penis into the unprepared softness of her vagina.
Chubs had not even taken the trouble to move the trembling girl over to the mattress lying a few feet away, and her smoothly rounded buttocks were pressing now on the cold linoleum floor as the lust-driven youth roughly spread her legs further apart with his knees, moving his monstrous penis closer and closer to the target until the bulbous blood-engorged tip brushed lasciviously against the fearfully quivering vaginal opening of the teacher's badly beaten body. After an instant's pause, Chubs simply released the pressure on his elbows, allowing his chunky body to come crashing down on Kathy's succulently ripened breasts as his hips flicked simultaneously forward, sending his thick ravishing cock skewering past the cringing lips of her tight little cunt. "Aaaaaaaggghhh!! ! "
Her scream of agony brought Phil Matthews back to an abrupt consciousness, and he lifted his head just in time to see the brutal impalement of his naked girl friend. A red fog of silent rage rolled over his mind and he began working furiously at the wires around his wrists which were holding him prisoner, quietly vowing that he was going to kill these animals regardless of the consequences. The timid, mild-mannered English teacher had disappeared forever. This was the woman he loved, and he knew he was going to commit murder to right the wrongs being done to her! But how? Ash and Jose were obviously working their way up to a lust-fueled homicidal fury, and he would be lucky if he escaped with his life.
At the moment, the possibility of revenge seemed distinctly remote. He was a hopeless prisoner, and Kathy Barton was sprawled helplessly naked and spread-eagled on the filthy floor, virtually buried beneath a two hundred seventy-five pound mountain of fat and muscle. From his vantage point at the door, Phil could see Chubs' horrendously large cock piercing her almost to the hilt, stretching the delicate pink flesh of the young teacher's cunt wider than he would have believed possible. For the moment, Chubs lay happily where he was, letting the length and breadth of his long battering pole pulsate wildly within Kathy's overburdened vagina. Then, with a grunt more animal than human, he went to work, fucking ruthlessly into her with long savage strokes, each push sending the blood-filled tip of his pole-like instrument all the way home up into the moistly palpitating recesses of her sensitive womb. Every vicious thrust brought a renewed groan of agony to the young woman's open parched lips, and Phil Matthews was going quickly out of his mind with mental distress as he watched Chubs batter her methodically into submission. The helplessly impaled woman moaned and twitched ceaselessly under this brutal jungle assault, crying out in sheer torment as Chubs reached behind him to seize her quivering thighs and hoist her legs up in the air, giving himself the fullest possible access to her defenseless little cunt.
"Oh please, God, oh Phil, make him stop!" she groaned insanely, knowing that the other teacher was as helpless as she was, but unable to restrain the agonized words which were tumbling from her throat.
"Shut up, bitch," snapped Ash menacingly. 'The next time if there is a next time you'll remember to keep your big mouth shut!"
Chubs then found his own way of quieting her, plastering his thick lips against her mouth, his tongue burrowing into her open mouth as he unmercifully fucked into her, his fingers digging sadistically into the soft warm mounds of her breasts.
Matthews had ceased worrying now about the humiliation and pain to which Kathy was being subjected and was now seriously concerned that they were going to kill her, quite literally fucking her to death. His naked girl friend's succulently tempting body was nearly bent in two, and Chubs' long marauding cock was pistoning faster and faster into the glistening pink flesh of her savagely violated young cunt, and Matthews could hear the harsh mocking sound of Chubs' sperm-filled balls as they slammed rhythmically into the undefended crevice between her trembling ass-cheeks. He tried to close his eyes with grief, but found it impossible, noticing with chagrin at the same time that his own neglected cock was standing up hard and firm as if he were going to be next in line.
He was ashamed, more ashamed than he had ever been in his life, but, in fact, this was the most erotic scene he had ever witnessed and his body was reacting independently of his mind. The irony of the situation struck him like a hammer. He alone among all the men in the room sincerely loved this girl, and yet he had been condemned to stand and watch, a useless erection in his pants, while a vicious criminal from the slums fucked her senseless!
And Chubs was hitting his stride now, apparently driven half-mad by the undisputed possession of this magnificent sexual toy, skewering into her nakedness with the same inhuman strength he displayed on the football field.
Phil Matthews struggled mightily as he sought to pull the whole rickety school building down on top of them like Samson destroying the heathen temple in a final moment of self-destructive sensual fury. Kathy's face was distorted into a mask of pain as she squirmed and writhed futilely in a useless attempt to escape from this battering-ram assault, groaning as the man's powerful cock seemed to expand and grow with every renewed stroke. Chubs' face, in turn, had been transformed into sheer jungle savagery as he moved himself closer and closer to the climax he desired. There was obviously no thought on his part of giving any pleasure to the woman who lay struggling beneath him; he wanted to hurt, to punish, to humiliate, to degrade, and if he killed her in the process, than that was just tough luck as far as the others were concerned.
The whole room seemed transformed into silence as Chubs hit the high point of his roller coaster ride. A low elephant-like trumpet of victory emerged from the fat man's throat, and his heavy muscular hips slammed forward for one last extra deep penetration as the lewdly searing liquid began to spurt out of him, spraying unceasingly into the moistly quivering depths of her abused young cunt. Matthews failed to suppress a groan as he caught sight of the depraved liquid oozing out around Chubs's wildly ejaculating cock and dribbling along the sleek inner surfaces of Kathy's widely spread thighs.
The young biology teacher threw her head to one side and groaned as Chubs came endlessly into her outraged vagina, her legs falling limply to the floor as if she realized that there was no longer any reason to resist. What had been done, had been done. She had been fucked to within an inch of her life in the presence of a man she was falling in love with and she knew that neither one of them would ever forget this scene as long as they lived, assuming either one of them survived this bizarre experience.
Abruptly, Chubs yanked his slowly deflating cock out of her sorely misused little cunt, with a lewd sucking sound. He rolled over onto his buttocks with a stupid grin on his massive face, as if he expected a round of applause for his magnificent accomplishment. Kathy lay where he left her, legs still widely spread and her arms outstretched in a helpless, hopeless position. They could do no worse than this, she was telling herself. It made no difference what torments they inflicted upon her defenseless body now. She had struck bottom. Or had she?
"Yer next, Jose," grinned Ash, anxious to get at her himself, but also enjoying the power he held over the others in the room. This time, he decided who would do what to whom, not that bastard Swift. After tonight, Bud Swift would no longer be able to give orders and expect obedience from these two or any of the others. It was his show now, and he meant to enjoy it.
"Oh man, how I'm gonna love fucking this," commented Jose sadistically stripping off his shirt as he walked toward the motionless girl. "I figure ol' Chubs has messed your cunt up for awhile, Teach, so I'll jus' give it a rest. On yer knees, bitch!"
Kathy opened her eyes and looked at him blankly, not understanding what he meant. As she watched, the slender wiry football player stepped out of his pants, removing his belt and stood before her as naked as she, the belt in his hand.
"The last time we did this, Teach, you had other things on your mind, and you weren't concentratin' like you' shoulda. This time, I wanna see you put some tongue into it!"
With an abrupt agile movement, Jose reached quickly down and seized the dazed woman by the hair, yanking her cruelly to her knees. When she protested feebly, he viciously struck at her unprotected buttocks with his belt, bringing a shriek of agony from the girl.
Matthews, more experienced in these matters, knew exactly what Jose was talking about, and dread filled his heart at the thought. Assuming the two of them managed to get out of this in one piece, could Kathy ever look him in the face again, knowing he had been an unwilling witness to all that had happened, and all that was going to happen? He had to do something, even if he only got another beating for his pains and it came as a violent shock to him that he was not frightened anymore. Slowly and cautiously, he began to work on the wire which bound him to the door. It was heavy duty electrical wire, but the English teacher knew enough about science to know that wire suffers from metal fatigue and breaks when twisted back and forth in the same spot often enough. No one was paying much attention to him at the moment and he went to work, bending and rebending the wire again and again.
Jose was bending over the submissively kneeling girl now, his agile hands deftly exploring the mysteries of her tender lust-arousing body as he deliberately excited himself, pinching and kneading her provocatively swaying breasts. Kathy knew better than to fight back now, understanding the significance of the belt he held in his hand. If she offered the slightest resistance, this depraved child of the slums was quite capable of whipping her cheerfully to death while the others looked on with amusement. His hands found their way into her long, silken brown hair, and she found herself compelled to look directly at the eagerly pulsating cock which was jerking obscenely in her face only inches from her trembling lips.
"Now, I'm gonna do you a favor and give that little pussy a rest," Jose went on sadistically, taking a half step closer so that the pungent tip of his rigid cock actually brushed across the surface of her lips. "Jus' open that sweet little mouth of yours."
As if to emphasize the point, Jose released her hair and guided his long slender cock up to her tightly clenched lips, and rubbing it obscenely around the corners of her mouth. Kathy closed her eyes, knowing she could willingly never do this, not even if they killed her. Nothing on earth could make her voluntarily open her mouth . . .
"Ahhh!" she cried in sudden surprise as Jose's belt whistled in the air and cut brutally into the tender flesh of her fearfully trembling ass-cheeks, and as her mouth popped open to scream in pain, the clever young athlete took immediate advantage of the situation, flicking his hips forward, blocking her moan as he filled her mouth with the length of his hotly throbbing penis.
"Now start sucking, baby," he ordered, "and here's something to remind you what's gonna happen if you don't make me real happy."
Out of the corner of her eyes, Kathy saw his free arm flash through the air, but nothing could have prepared her for the pain she felt when the ornamental iron buckle of the belt slashed across her naked shoulders. Her scream was muffled by the continuing presence of his vilely pulsing cock in her mouth, and her violated young body jerked forward convulsively to escape the pain, an action which only had the effect of driving his invading penis further towards the back of her throat.
"Suck!"
Kathy knew precisely what was going to happen if she disobeyed, and with her, fear struggled with the desire to hang onto some particle of her own dignity. She could hardly stop them from raping her if they wanted to, but performing this obscene act in front of her boy friend called for a degree of active participation on her part. But she saw Jose raising his arm again, and she caved in immediately, beginning to nibble slightly and closing her wetly ovaled lips around the long pulsating object she held in her mouth. She had done this all once before, but then she had been drugged and battered into semi consciousness. It was different this time, and the sense of being humiliated and degraded was much stronger. But there was no way out; she had to do it, or they would kill her!
Jose smiled lewdly as he felt the warm suction on his cock increase and saw the girl's cheeks hollow inwardly as she began to suck on him in earnest.
"Come on baby," he mocked her. "Just pretend I'm your faggoty boy friend over there, and you might even enjoy it. Or isn't his cock big enough to bother with?"
Phil Matthews might have reacted angrily to this crude sexual insult, particularly since in fact, his penis was as big as any of theirs, but at the moment he had other things on his mind. He had just broken through one of the two wires attaching him to the door, and was now transferring his attentions to the other one. His fingers were tired, and he could feel the warm trickle of blood flowing down over his hands where the wire had cut deeply into his wrists, but he had mastered the technique now and knew he could be free in another ten minutes of hard work. What would happen then was anyone's guess. If only he could get his hands on that gun!
"Come on you beautiful little cock-sucker . . . suck harder!"
Kathy responded to the threat by laboring even harder, using her tongue to excite him, realizing the sooner she could coax him into an orgasm, the sooner all of this would come to whatever end it was all destined to come to. An observer who was ignorant of the situation would have guessed mistakenly that she was enjoying it at this point, since she pressed her ovaled lips tightly around his jabbing cock as his hard muscular buttocks jerked convulsively back and forth into her face, and he muttered one obscene comment after another as he stared down cruelly at her bobbing head. Every stroke seemed to carry him farther and farther down into her throat, and the tortured young woman could feel the smooth rubbery tip of his elongated cock brushing vilely against the back of her mouth which was rapidly filling with his excited pre-ejaculate.
Jose looked down on her with lewd satisfaction as he felt his moment of triumph approaching. Here was the haughty lady teacher who stood at the front of the class and dared to deliver lectures on biology to real men like him! Somehow she did not look quite so high and mighty now, kneeling humbly before him with his long slender cock fucking its way in and out of her tightly ovaled red lips! He wanted to take her all the way down to the bottom of the barrel with him, to make her swallow his depraved semen so that she would know to the ends of her days that she was no better than he was.
Kathy was conscious of the fact that her knees were hurting and that a dull ache was beginning to form somewhere in her spine from the unnatural position into which she had been forced, but most of all she sensed that the man who was ruthlessly fucking into her mouth was nearing his own moment of truth, on the verge of spewing his vile cum into the depths of her throat.
But still it came faster than she expected! There was a brief warning groan from somewhere up above her, and the next thing she knew, Jose was gripping her head tightly from both sides so that there was no possible way of avoiding the evil blessing he was about to bestow upon her. The warm thick jet sprayed venomously into the back of her throat as he came and the girl gurgled and choked as she struggled to swallow his depraved semen, having no choice about the matter.
He held her vise-like for a long moment, emptying his loins into her as if her mouth were simply another cunt, another available repository for his sperm. And when he was finished, he threw her aside like a rag doll, yanking his deflated glistening cock from her battered abused mouth and turning to face his fellow thugs with a satisfied grin.
"I'm next," decided Ash, now beside himself with unsatisfied lust. The sight of his two cohorts abusing the girl had aroused within him the foul desire to do something really perverse, really evil. His position as head of the gang was at stake here, and he had to prove himself meaner and cruder than any of the others. And he thought he knew just how to accomplish it. There was only one thing you could do to this woman that they had not already done, and he was just the man to do it!
Tossing the pistol on top of Jose's clothing, he gazed at the broken defeated young girl with a lewd smile as he began to strip off his pants, knowing that as she lay there in a heap she was wondering what new horrors were going to be heaped upon her nakedly defenseless body. Matthews did not look as if he were going to' make any trouble either, since the school teacher was standing still, his hands still tightly bound behind his back, his head bowed against his chest in the traditional posture of a defeated man.
"You boys get a hold of her," he ordered as he dropped the last article of his clothing on the floor and walked threateningly towards the cowering, intimidated young woman. "Sometimes they get a little wiggly when I play my kinda games."
The gang knew instantly what he was talking about even though Kathy was mystified. What else was there to do? Every time she thought they had dropped her all the way to the basement there was always another button on the elevator, and they managed to take her even lower. What now? She asked herself in silent horror as Chubs rolled her crudely over onto her stomach and Jose hoisted her up on her knees, so that she crouched with her buttocks waving defenselessly up in the air while the heavy, sensuous mounds of her breasts were squeezed against the cold surface of the linoleum.
Matthews almost pitched forward on his face as the last strand of wire broke, releasing him from the door. No one was looking at him now and even though his hands were still bound behind him, there was an outside chance he could slip out the entrance way and dart down the stairs before anyone looked up and missed him. They were all too preoccupied with the girl to devote much attention to him and maybe he should run while he had the chance . . .
Shaking his head, the English teacher dismissed this cowardly idea, and grimly went to work on the wire which was pinning his wrists together. In another few minutes, his arms would be free, and then he could act. In the meantime, he drew strength from the hatred building up inside of him, ignored the blood dripping from his hands where the wire was biting into the flesh, and went back to work twisting the cable endlessly back and forth. He knew full well what Ash was planning to do to Kathy, but there was no way he could stop him just now. He would have to content himself with revenge, and that would come later.
"What. . . what do you intend to do?" quavered Kathy, sensing that something very sinister was in the air. Ash was maneuvering into position behind her, probing between her legs with his rigidly extended penis. If he was going to take her dog fashion, why didn't he simply go ahead and do it? Why prolong the agony?
But the gang leader had other plans, and his hands swarmed delightedly over the unprotected surfaces of her buttocks, twisting and clawing at the two delectable globes as if he wanted to tear her ass-cheeks apart.
"Oh please . . . " she groaned unhappily as she felt Ash's outstretched middle finger invading the crevice between her buttocks. Was he just trying to upset her or humiliate her some more? Why was he running his fingers over her fearfully puckering anus?
"Ah man, that's the tightest little cherry I've ever seen," Ash boasted to his cohorts lewdly. "I'm gonna have me a real time with that little asshole."
Suddenly it all became horrifyingly clear. Kathy had heard whispered rumors about this particular perversion before, and she understood immediately that this sadistic monster intended to violate the only other opening into her tormented body. It was impossible! Only animals did things like that! They would kill her!
"Better open 'er up a little," Ash commented critically. "Never get it in the way she is."
There was a moment's probing around the outer edges of the tiny fragile elastic circle, and then with a sudden unexpected movement, Ash shoved his big middle finger forward, sinking it immediately into her as far as the first knuckle.
"Uggggghhh!" Kathy groaned in abject humiliation, surprised that it did not hurt worse than it did. For a moment, Ash labored silently behind her, rotating his finger around in ever-expanding circles in an attempt to widen the nether entrance to her loins, and then he added a second finger to the first, and it really started to hurt.
"Oh please don't.. . " she begged, now beginning to let herself go and no longer caring in the slightest whether her dignity suffered or not. "Please, do it some other way! Don't touch me there!"
The only response was a round of depraved laughter from the three naked hoodlums, and Kathy felt Ash moving even closer, nudging her legs farther apart in order to give himself unrestricted access to the whole flat plane of her loins. She told herself that this was the end. If the pain and humiliation did not kill her, then the physical act of being penetrated in the rectum would certainly finish her. A man like Phil Matthews would never look at her again. She was finished, ruined for life!
Suddenly there was a popping sound in the air as Ash pulled his fingers free of her offended anus, and for a moment she dared to hope that he had had his depraved fun and would now proceed to fuck her in the normal fashion. But the hope was in vain. No sooner had his fingers left the widened entrance when the hard bodied thug moved in close, guiding the heavy blood-engorged tip of his cock directly up to the pink-rimmed circle of her rectum. She tried to shrink away in horror, but Jose and Chubs nearly crushed the breath out of her as they held her firmly in place.
"Come on, Ash-baby, ram it in there!" Jose encouraged him lewdly.
But the new gang leader needed no advice from his friends. He had never done this to a woman before, but he had dreamed about it for years, and now he had his chance. His hands pressing out on either side of the fearfully puckering anus, he probed into the opening with his cock as Kathy began emitting one soul-shaking moan after another.
"Hold 'er down, damn it," he snarled, and pushed, putting all the weight in his big athlete's body into it. The tight anal ring fought back valiantly for a split second, but the pressure was too great and his thick cock plunged into the depths of her anus, stretching her in a way that she had never been stretched before. For a moment, the pain was too intense to allow her the luxury of uttering a sound. Then the hopelessly violated young school teacher put her head back, filled her lungs with air and screamed with all her might.
* * *
For the second time in that evening, a man stood in the deserted playground below and listened to a woman's scream break the stifling muggy air of the Ken Central night. This time it was Bud Swift who caught the sound. He had come here desperately desiring to be alone, having decided that it would be a good place to think. Assuming that Chubs, Jose, and Ash would have gone home, he had decided to climb up to their hide-away, read his book, and maybe drink himself into a stupor with whatever was left of the whiskey. In the morning, he would have to try to decide what to do. One thing had been certain in his mind; he had to make some sort of attempt to make up to Miss Barton and Phil Matthews. It did not matter if it took him the rest of his life, but ultimately they had to understand that he had not meant things to turn out the way they had. He was going to college next year by hook or by crook he decided, and when he came back, he would apply for a job teaching at Ken Central. Perhaps the two of them would still be there when he graduated, and perhaps they would have decided to forgive him. Or perhaps not, but he would make the effort anyway. There was a lot of evil in him, but he sensed with a growing elation that made him want to weep that there had to be some good as well.
But now there was this scream. For a moment he questioned his sanity. Could it have been his imagination? Jesus Christ! It sounded like Kathy Barton's voice, but it was difficult to identify a voice from a scream. But if it was Miss Barton . . . if she was in trouble . . . he wasted no more time on speculation. There were stairs to be climbed before he would know what the situation was. If it was Kathy, he had to help her, and Swift stuck the paperback book into his pocket and headed for the stairs at a run.
* * *
The moment his cock was inside the warm buttery depths of her rectum, Ash wasted no more time, not really caring whether he was hurting her or not. Chuckling obscenely to himself, the young athlete began fucking in and out of the heated softness of her tight little nether passage, bringing sob after sob of misery to her lips. Each stroke seemed to go deeper than the one before it, and on the back stroke, tiny fragile ridges of flesh seemed to cling to the hardened shaft of his penis as Ash delighted in the warm enveloping flesh pressing in on his thick pistoning penis from all sides.
Kathy's cum-soaked body jerked and quivered, her resistance now shattered beyond all possible hope of repair. The pain was great, but the teacher had learned in the past few hours to live with pain. However, this was the final complete humiliation of a woman, and she pictured how she must look to Phil Matthews as she knelt in slavish submission before the man who was sodomizing her lasviciously from behind. It felt as if the great trunk of a tree had suddenly been thrust up inside of her rectum, and every time Ash's pulsating rod came vilely plunging into her, she could feel her entire body convulse in distress, as if the muscles of her anus were being stretched beyond the point of no return.
The natural lubricating juices inside of the young woman's body began to flow, and Ash could feel that his movements were now easier and even more pleasurable. No man alive could have stood this intense pressure for long, and Ash knew that his ride was going to be short but intense. But then something happened that almost made him lose his erection. Stunningly, the kneeling naked woman beneath him shuddered twice and moaned like a lost soul in hell.
"Jesus Christ," Jose said, not really believing the evidence, "she's cumming."
Kathy wailed again and then began thrusting her nakedly churning buttocks back harder against the thick invading pole of flesh.
Ash grinned in lewd triumph and began fucking deeper up into the convulsing teacher's rectum.
"Cumming in a minute," he grunted to his companions who were watching this depraved spectacle with lascivious enjoyment.
No one was paying much attention to Phil Matthews. The sweat running down his forehead from the exertion, the school teacher kept his hands clenched tightly behind him even though he had finally broken through the last strand of wire. He was in a strange frame of mind, and only a trained psychologist could have explained it clearly. One side of his brain was boiling with a savage hatred, for the other three men in the room, but another whole part of him was coldly calculating his movements. He was only three steps away from the gun, and he studied it carefully out of the corner of his eye, observing accurately that Ash had left the safety lock in the "on" position, meaning that he would have to cock the weapon and release the safety before it could be fired. Mentally, he paced off the three quick steps to the pile of clothing, knowing from prior bitter experience just how fast Chubs could move when he wanted to, and knowing that just once in his life he had to move much faster.
* * *
Bud Swift heard the first shot as he climbed the last flight of stairs to the gang's hideaway, and he did not pause to think of who might be shooting at whom but threw all his energy into the last mad dash to the room where Kathy Barton might be. He hurled himself into the room, the momentum of his charge carrying him into the middle of the fray, and he tripped over the corpulent body of Chubs who was lying face down on the floor half-way between the mattress and the corner where Phil Matthews stood with the gun held steadily in his hand. The big man had evidently moved very fast to have gotten that far, but not quite fast enough, since there was a bullet hole the size of a bean on one side of his head, and on the other side the entire ear was gone with brain matter splattered all over the floor.
For an instant, Swift felt as if he had stumbled onto the set of a motion picture. Jose rose like lightning, moving towards the door and a fraction of a second later, the young football player's chest exploded outward in red as Matthews pumped two soft-nosed shells from the thirty-eight caliber revolver into his torso. Yanking himself free of the violated woman's body, Ash was on his knees, his hands covering his face as if he could somehow make the bullets go away if he did not see them. Matthews stepped forward, his hands steady and calm, and deliberately shot him once in the head. Ash was slammed backward against the wall, and Swift watched as the girl scrambled nakedly out of the way to avoid being covered by the red fountain of blood spurting from his body and a white fountain of cum spurting from a cock which would never rise again.
"No, Phil, no!" came Kathy's scream, but Bud Swift knew she was wasting her breath, and turned his head to one side as Matthews fired. The first bullet hit him about two inches below the shoulder on the left side of his chest, and he did not feel it although the impact sent him reeling backwards against the wall. Matthews fired again, the last bullet in the pistol, and Swift felt nothing at all. A wave of warm blackness engulfed him as he slumped to the floor and knocked over the kerosene lantern.
"Come on, get your clothes!" Phil snapped at the sobbing girl as if he were angry at her, stooping to the floor to pick up the remains of her skirt.
"You killed him," shy muttered, frozen stock still by all that happened. "You killed them all."
"They . . . I executed them," Matthews replied as the flames from the kerosene lantern licked at the wooden beams near Swift's corpse. "Come on, this place will go up like a tinder box!"
The growing heat from the rapidly spreading fire brought her to her senses, and Kathy stumbled to her feet, fastening the skirt around her naked loins. The blouse had been torn to shreds and Matthews handed her Ash's shirt, urging her towards the door. There was no chance now of putting out the fire and no reason to try. The building was due to be destroyed anyway and no one would think to look among the ashes for the bodies of four hoodlums who had mysteriously disappeared. No one would care, and only the police files would remain to testify that Chubs, or Jose, or Ash, or Bud Swift had ever really existed in the first place.
"Come on!" shouted Matthews, the steel in the man's character showing clearly now. "I want to be away from here before the police arrive!"
"Wait, there's a book," Kathleen Barton mumbled, ducking to pick up a tattered paperback which had fallen out of Swift's back pocket. By the light of the fire, she could barely make out the title. It was called The Voyage of the Beagle written by Charles Darwin.
Her eyes blinded by a flood of scalding tears, she clenched the book in one hand as Matthews seized the other and led her quickly down the darkened staircase.
In the distance they could hear the sirens and behind them was the angry roar of hell as the fires consumed the damned.
