Education in the depressed areas of America has for at least the past two decades been a subject of considerable importance in literature. Such books as The Blackboard Jungle and Up the Down Staircase have illustrated some of the problems confronting those teachers who apply, or attempt to apply, progressive methods of education in schools with archaic administrative policies. They have shown that learning is often secondary to social and political values, and that schools can easily become centers of hypocrisy as well as battlefields for angry, deprived adolescents.
We, the publishers, salute authoress Elizabeth Watson for refining the nature of these problems in her novel, The Teacher's Pets. As the result of her own experience, she has unfolded a poignant, sometimes shocking saga--one involving brutal rape, perversion, and disappointment. Perhaps it is the latter facet of this story, disappointment, that most brings home the urgent need for intelligent reform in many of our academic institutions.
In the character of Stephanie Jackson, a lovely, naive teacher, the authoress has recreated what can happen to a naive young Southern teacher who is unprepared for the violent atmosphere characterizing a high school in a northeastern section of the United States. The heroine finds that not only her professional status, but her honor is dramatically comprised by her own ignorance of the dynamics among her students.
Racial prejudice is another aspect of Miss Watson's novel. She points out in undeniable terms that intolerance fosters intolerance and widens the cultural gap between peoples of different color and economic background. The authoress' fictional presentation of what are after all the facts, extends our understanding of the orientation necessary to bring about newer and more effective academic and community programs... the sort of unified efforts which can provide our youth--whether in ghettos or in more fortunate circumstances-- with the direction and inspiration required to mold them into productive citizens.
We congratulate Miss Watson as well for her courageous, insightful service in enlightening us regarding the psychology that engenders many tragic situations in our schools. She has shown us that educators are often subject to the same weaknesses and drives that may be manifest in their students. This is not to say, however, that teachers must discipline themselves to such a degree that they become inhuman, mechanical automatons, but only that they should practice what they teach. All of us, at one time or another in our lives, contradict our beliefs with our actions. And it is this that authoress Watson thinks that we should be aware of when examining and bettering the institutions that are the foundations of the future of our country.
-THE PUBLISHERS
CHAPTER ONE
Rubbing her eyes sleepily, Stephanie Jackson wakened to feel the hot white August sun burning through the window and onto her forehead. The train was making time, the deep rumbling of the wheels on the tracks like heavy castanets that jarred her to full consciousness. She had been in this same seat most of the night and part of the day before, and her back ached miserably.
Taking in her immediate surroundings, she squirmed her buttocks deeper into the narrow space to find a more comfortable position. There was a balding, paunchy man in the seat next to her, inches from her shoulder. Evidently he had been awake for some time. She noticed that he had a newspaper on his lap, and then, lowering her eyes, she saw that his hands were buried beneath the pages, his gaze fixed hungrily on a soft expanse of smooth white thigh that her skirt had ridden up on to expose during her sleep. Hurriedly, she yanked down the garment and waited a moment. When nothing happened, she rose and brushed by him to gain her footing in the aisle.
Picking her way down the corridor between the seats, she thought of her years as a teenager, of the embarrassment and shame she had experienced because of her voluptuous body. At twenty-two, she was not unaware of the lingering stares men gave her, the same long insulting looks she had suffered since her breasts had bloomed into ripeness and her hips had flowered to fullness, when she was still little more than a kid playing with dolls. She remembered the glaringly lewd interest the men in her home town in the South had shown in her, how they had interrupted whatever they were doing to ogle her as she travelled back and forth to school. Occasional comments from the bolder ones, who lounged outside the taverns, had given her to imagine that they were tearing away the layers of her clothing with their eyes and drooling in their minds over her lush naked body.
Even now, she knew the men occupying the seats alongside the aisle were observing the smooth sway of her well rounded young buttocks as she made her way unsteadily down the remaining length of the car. It was mortifying to think that she was being a girly sideshow for these unknown men.
Hastening her pace, she was thrown off balance by an abrupt lurch as the train tore screeching around a sharp bend in the tracks. Her arms flew outward to brace herself as the jolt sent her whirling forward. Without warning, she lost her footing on the floor of the lurching car and pitched into the nearest seat, thrashing wildly when she realized that she had fallen across the lap of an attractive young man.
"Please, do help me," Stephanie gasped with her face in the loins of the man's trousers, struggling frantically to rise from the humiliating position. Even as he tried to assist her, he could not help but react to the unexpected warmth of her breath on his thigh, the stimulation jerking his sex organ to semi-hardness. His breath quickened as his attention was drawn to her slim leg flailing out across the aisle, bared to the hip where her dress had slid up during her frantic squirming. Almost regretfully, he grasped her around the waist and hoisted her to her feet.
Dazed and confused, Stephanie looked down at her rescuer, but before she could apologize for the trouble she had caused, she realized that he was greedily scanning the lush curves of her body, his eyes finally lighting to gaze rapturously at her full breasts as they heaved against the buttons of her disheveled dress. Twisting from his outrageous scrutiny, she caught sight of the lump straining outward like a spring released under the fabric of his trousers. Her face burning with humiliation, she rushed down the aisle.
At last, she leaned breathlessly against the door inside the ladies' room. Every man she had known since puberty had surveyed her like that, and still she could not face those probing glances. Thank God, she was a virgin and could only guess at the obscene ideas that filled their minds.
She shuddered as she remembered frantic evenings when she had struggled away from the demanding hands of the young men whose sole interest in her body was lust. But, she had learned the telltale signs of danger, and when their eyes took on that smoldering dullness, or when their hands became too active and presumptuously explored her tender young breasts or slithered up her tightly-clenched thighs under her skirt, she would break away from their embraces, sometimes despite their impassioned pleas. A man was only his trousers, mmmmm
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ARCHIVAL NOTE: There was a gap between the above ending text and where it picked up again. It appears that only a line or two of text was omitted... probably a printing issue of some sort.
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self for one man, the right man, her husband, and be taken for the first time on her wedding night.
All those years of would-be Casanovas... and then came John. He had driven into her college looking like a modern Lancelot in his shining white convertible, the youngest of the school's trustees. That day, serving tea at a faculty reception, she had met him and knew that he was the man she had been waiting for.
But even John had objected to her continued insistence on chastity after they were engaged to be married. She thought of that night in the woods, when their picnic lunch had lasted past darkness. They had lain for long happy hours in the spring grass, discussing their future, but when his hand had roamed up her leg and rubbed gently into the crotchband of her panties, she had slapped his face and turned away from him, feeling only disgust for a man who could not wait for only a few months. He had scolded her harshly for her prudishness, announcing that she could not expect sexual fidelity from him. Unexpectedly, she found herself in the position of supplicant, begging him to be patient. The evening had ended with angry words between them, and now she was ashamed to inquire regarding his whereabouts when he was not with her.
Later that week, Stephanie decided that she would work for a year before the wedding. For her, it was a way to prove that she had more to offer than a voluptuous body. She would be near John as she planned to teach in a public high school in Brunswick City, his home city in the North.
She studied her reflection in the ladies' room mirror as she brushed her long auburn hair. Though she felt a bit anxious about living so far from her home, only determination showed in the long green eyes that gazed coolly back to her from her image in the glass. This year she would show her real worth to John and the rest of the men in the world.
"Five minutes to Brunswick City!" The conductor's bellow from outside the door broke into Stephanie's reverie. She hurried back to her seat to retrieve her overnight case and coat. Five minutes to her new home.
CHAPTER TWO
"Well, sweetheart, how do you like your new city?" John Balfour asked, reaching out to draw his fiancee closer as they drove through the traffic- choked streets of Brunswick City in the open- topped convertible. "You're rubber-necking like a tourist, but I suppose they don't have anything like this down where you come from."
"It's very impressive, dear." Stephanie's smile was not convincing as she tried to imagine herself at home with the towering skyscrapers and the swarms of blank-faced people that rushed in and out of the buildings. "But, it's all so terribly different," she ventured timidly as she nodded to the clusters of shoppers that crossed trancelike before the car at every crosswalk. Even those who noticed her greeting seemed to stare right through her.
"Folks don't seem terribly friendly here... Are they always in such a hurry?" She inched toward the center of the seat, nearer to him, taking comfort from the fact that she was not alone in this vast noisy metropolis. It had been such a relief to find him among the hundreds of people jammed together in the railway terminal.
"Wait until rush hour," he laughed. Sensing her uncertainty, he squeezed her shoulders, again trying to pull her closer. "Don't worry, baby, you'll know your way around in no time. And the mobs won't seem so awesome once you feel at home here. In a big city like this, you can't possibly get to know everyone, but you'll have more friends than you can handle soon enough." He grinned at her discomfiture. "You know the whole world isn't like that sleepy little town of yours."
Stephanie stiffened, annoyed at his casual belittlement of her home town. "John! I'm not a child and I'm certainly not a hillbilly. It's already apparent to me that you Northerners have discarded the art of gracious living. How anyone could have culture or gentility in this frightful squalor is beyond me!"
Immediately regretting her impulsive outburst, she changed her strident tone to one of honeyed smoothness. "I'm sorry, dear. The train ride was a strain on my system." She peeked coyly up at him from below her long, silky lashes and smiled sweetly, sensing the influence her beauty held over him. "Do you think we could see the school before you take me to my apartment? Then--I promise!--I'll cook you a lovely dinner and we can chat for a while before you go home." She nestled up against him, hoping she had not alienated him, her one contact in this strange new place.
Marvelling at her unusual display of affection, John let his hand drift down over her shoulder and stroked the downward slope of her ripe jutting breast. He slid his leg several inches across the seat and carefully let it rest against the warmth of her supple thigh. He was amazed at her silent acceptance of his presumptive actions. She had never been this agreeable.
"Of course, sweetheart," he said cheerily. "We'll have a chance to get reacquainted in the apartment I've chosen for you." His palm grazed the softness of her nipple beneath the thin layers of her clothing. "I've really missed you, but we'll make up for lost time this evening."
Alerted by his quickening breath and the increasing insistence of his touch, Stephanie quickly pulled away, afraid that she had allowed him too much liberty. John chuckled at her gesture, confident for the first time that she might not be invulnerable to his sexual blandishments. Speculating gleefully about the evening's activities, he murmured, "I've told you, love. I can wait as long as you can, but you can't blame me for trying to rush things a little. You're a tantalizing morsel for this poor old sex-starved gentleman."
She sighed in annoyance and moved back to the far end of the car seat. Even if he did love her, he acted far too much like other men at times like this. Though her nipples still tingled from the touch of his hand, she decided that she would not be handled like that again before her wedding night. She knew that men became bolder with each liberty they were allowed, and she did not want to have another argument about sex tonight.
As they drove, Stephanie watched the skyscrapers pare down to long blocks of row houses which became more and more dilapidated as they passed through the city. At last they reached an area where the streets were filled with trash and garbage, rotting to slush in the summer heat, and John was forced to drive more slowly as the children playing on the sidewalk ran into the road from behind parked cars, scrambling after balls and other, smaller children. Sloppily dressed women lounged on doorsteps, screaming greetings to neighbors, and groups of young men in tight blue jeans swaggered to rock 'n' roll music that blared from transistor radios they carried with them.
"John, where on earth are we going? This looks like a shanty town. Surely, I don't have to teach these young hoodlums," she said, indicating a gang of teenagers assembled around a corner phone booth.
"I'm afraid so, sweetheart. Brunswick Central High School is only a few blocks from here." Moments later, he pulled into the curb in front of a large granite building. "The school board places all new teachers here to give them the experience of teaching ghetto children. If you were going to be teaching here next year, too, you probably would be transferred to one of the better schools."
She stared in disbelief at the heavy iron bars guarding the first-floor windows and at the gravelly asphalt grounds surrounded by high wire fencing. "But... it looks like an institution, or a prison... " Then, as an unanticipated aspect of her new job came to mind, she turned to John, exclaiming in anguish, "You don't think they expect me to teach black children? My mother... " she started, trailing off as she looked around and saw as many black faces as white in the streets and doorways.
John sighed in exasperation. "You're not in the South anymore. I told you, this is a big city, and all kinds get shuffled together. Everyone is given an equal chance, whether you think they deserve it or not. Believe me, Steph, it will be good for you." His tone had softened sympathetically. "After we're married, well, I'm going to show you the rest of the world, but for now, it's enough that you learn to adjust to another--this--way of life."
Stephanie fought to accept John's way of thinking, but she still felt uneasy. She knew he did not understand the way she had been brought up and would probably only laugh at the stories she had been told of black men raping defenseless white girls. Perhaps the niggers--no, they were Negroes here--were different in the North. Unpleasant and unnecessary as the idea seemed, she knew she would have to learn to overcome the prejudices she had been taught. After all, what better way was there to prove her worth than by teaching ghetto children, even black ones.
As the car engine purred back to life, a cluster of youths neared the car; they were apparently sharing some joke. One deep voice drawled loudly above the laughter. "Holy sheeit! Look at them knockers. Man, wouldn't I like to wiggle my toes in between those!"
As the smirking boys sauntered away from the vehicle, Stephanie cringed back into the leather upholstery, but, moments later, regaining her composure, she turned to John. "Why... why didn't you defend me? Those savages insulted me!" she chided, forcing a thin smile to conceal her displeasure at his silence.
He looked at her almost pityingly. "Don't let it shake you, sweetheart. It happens--and it isn't worth getting upset over. If that's the worst that happens to you this year, you'll be lucky. And, besides," he added, patting her shoulder, "I admire their taste. Come on, let's go home."
Troubled by his indifference, Stephanie nevertheless nodded silent assent.
Half an hour later, she was in the shower in her new apartment, scrubbing off the grime she had accumulated during the long train ride. John had stepped out to the corner store to buy groceries for dinner, and she was savoring her first taste of privacy in more than a day, slowly running her hands over her body, covering her smooth ivory skin with soapy lather. Only when she was alone like this, safe from the prying eyes and insinuating smiles of men, could she appreciate the pristine perfection of her own body.
She carefully massaged the slippery froth into the secret recesses between her legs, gently probing the crevice between her buttocks and into her virginal pubic area. As soft waves of pleasure rippled upward through her belly, she turned her attention to her breasts, plucking at the rosy peaks and watching as they changed from tender spreading pinkness to tight crimson buds that throbbed under her fingertips. She slipped one hand, creamy with soap, down through the soft dark vee of tightly-coiled hair between her glistening thighs, but even though shuddering with excitement, she ceased the thrilling manipulations. John was due back and she wanted to be dressed before his return.
She heard the doorbell ring as she stepped from the stall, still flushed from the force of the needle-like spray of the shower. Quickly wrapping a towel around her undried body, she hurried to the door. As she had anticipated, it was John, his arms full of packages.
"Why, hello, beautiful!" he beamed as his gaze greedily feasted on the dripping girl's partially- exposed body. "I certainly hope this is what you meant by slipping into something more comfortable. I do enjoy your taste in play clothes." Hastily placing the packages on the table, he reached out to catch Stephanie's retreating form, drawing her into an enthusiastic embrace. "Don't go away! You haven't even kissed me hello."
"John, let me go! I can't stand around like this. You can kiss me when I'm properly dressed... John, I mean it. Let go of me!" she protested before his mouth muffled her lips, pressing hard in a deep searching kiss. Stephanie struggled as his tongue plunged hotly into her mouth, exploring the sweet wet cavern. Fighting to free herself from his grip, she tore her face away and said, coldly, "How can you be so crude? You don't really love me... You just want to use me. Please, John, I don't want to see you any more this evening."
Stalking into the bedroom, she flung herself face down on the bed.
John followed her in and, willing his aroused body to calmness, said consolingly, "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. It's been weeks since I've held you and, after all, this was just a kiss. You know I respect you. I love you. Please don't be angry." He gently rubbed her neck until her body relaxed. "It's just that you're so beautiful. How can you expect me to forget that? I don't understand how you can be so cold, always so cold... " She twisted to face him, her eyes blazing. "Cold? Is that how you see me? I thought that you of all people understood that I'm a lady, and I'll not be treated like a slut by you or any other man!"
He stared gapingly, astonished by her vehemence, as she rose haughtily from the bed and gestured toward the door.
"Please leave," she snapped.
As she raised her arm, the towel that was shrouding her body slipped to the side, exposing one lush heavy breast still bouncing from the force of her movement. John's eyes locked on the magnificent expanse of gleaming flesh that spilled over the folds of the fallen towel, the ruby-tipped mound bobbing only a few feet from his face. Blushing hotly, Stephanie tried to stuff the bared breast back into the protective covering of the towel, but John, his gentlemanly resolves fading as he imagined his natural desires being officiously put away as well, reached out to grasp Stephanie's shoulders and pulled her down on the bed.
"John! Don't be absurd! Let go of me this instant." She writhed under his grip, but he pinioned her arms to the mattress and pressed one leg over her squirming torso.
"Sweetheart, you've been pooh-poohing and oh-Johning at me for months and months, and I took it because, for a while, I thought you were just a naive kid from a hick Southern town. But that isn't your problem at all," he said, his hot breath beating on her cheek. "You just want everything in the world, including myself arranged according to your fairytale plan. But life's not like that, love," he rasped, his voice lowering menacingly. "You just don't understand what men and women are all about, but I'm going to teach you right now."
He tore the towel away from her body, smugly eyeing her wide-spaced breasts and soft yielding belly and buttocks. Her skin rippled lightly as she struggled beneath his hands. Her pleading protests were stopped for the second time that evening as his lips ground brutally onto hers, his prong-like tongue prying open her teeth to slip wetly into the depths of her mouth. She moaned as his tongue snaked back, his insistent sucking drawing out her own soft pink spear into his own moist cavity.
Forcing both her arms into the iron-like custody of one of his hands, he brought his other down to her heaving breasts, first gently stroking the velvety contours, then clawing tenaciously as if to wrest the succulent fruit from her body. She thrashed frantically beneath his weight, but he went on diabolically, like a machine, probing at the plush cushiony flesh, then working up his hand until his fingertips met at her sensitive nipples, pinching and tweaking them until they were no longer tiny pillows of pale pink but tingling hard points thrusting up to meet his touch.
He lifted his head from hers, only to dive down quickly on her snowy breast, still squeezing its twin with his other hand. Stephanie pleaded again, "Please, please, John--you're hurting me! This isn't fair... Let me go!" Ignoring her cries, he bit harder on the rosy nipple he was sucking and nibbling to throbbing erection. Her fear was compounded by the fever she felt growing to a raging fire in her loins. She moaned again as his pinching fingers moved downward from her breasts to the taut plane of her belly.
She strained uselessly against his imprisoning hands as he shifted position, turning so that his knees held her shoulders and arms tightly against the coverlet. A lewd sadistic grin twisted his face as he reached across the pale skin of her torso to tease at the auburn tendrils of pubic hair that bordered the dark vaginal cleft between her tightly- crossed legs. Looking up at the crotch of his trousers, close above her face, she saw the outline of his rising penis straining outward. The cloth was stained with the dark streaks of seminal fluid leaking out around the hardening tip of his cock. Then, his hand dipped down into the secret area of her sex, forcing apart her trembling thighs. As his fingers nipped cruelly at the vulnerable outer lips of her vagina, Stephanie's fear overcame her budding passion. Her mind racing, she tried to think of a means of escape, a vague strategy developing as she lay a helpless captive on her own bed.
"Oh, darling, please don't touch me there. Not now, not like this." She spoke huskily, pretending to be overcome with newly-awakened lust. "I'll do anything you want, only please don't force me like this." She gasped as his finger inched into her tight cuntal slit, and in spite of her revulsion sending hot waves of desire pounding through her. Steeling herself against the temptation to succumb to his fingering manipulations, she murmured softly, "Why don't you take your clothes off too? I want to make you happy."
John looked down at her, overcome with a feeling of power, and decided he had conquered the haughty little bitch at last. Her body relaxed as he loosened his hold. "Hurry, darling," she breathed, "I want you now." She heaved her pelvis up against the hand that now stroked the hairy flanges of her cunt, convincing him that she was hungry for more pleasure than just the touch of his hand could give her.
He could wait no longer. Rising from the bed, he tore open his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, exposing the blood-gorged head of his cock resting high on his belly. In seconds, the entire length of his pulsing, distended rod burst from its confinement, thrusting obscenely from the opening in his clothing. She stared in horror as his pants dropped to his knees and the monstrous club-like instrument jutted from its nest of wiry pubic hair. Then, realizing that this was the moment she had been waiting for, she rolled off the bed and flew into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Sinking to the floor, tears of anger and shame running down her face, she shrieked through the door, "Get out! You're a depraved monster, and I never want to see you again!"
From the bedroom, she heard John's voice quivering with rage and frustration. "Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I'll stay away all right! I'm sorry my little experiment didn't work, but it did teach me something about you. You think love is a one-way street. You haven't learned you have to give as well as take."
Just before the front door slammed, she heard him call out sarcastically, "Let me know if you need an escort. That, apparently, is my only function with you... I love you."
Stephanie rose from the tile floor and dragged herself wearily out to the bed. Though physically and emotionally exhausted, she lay awake for hours, reconstructing the events of the day. Strange and frightening as it had all been, she was most bewildered by John's assumption that she had been wrong. He had attacked her, tried to rape her, and then called it a "little experiment." Well, she could experiment too. She would make it in this city, alone... and call him when she was good and ready.
The one man she loved had tried to divest her of her irredeemable virginity. Never, never would she trust a man again.
CHAPTER THREE
As she stepped down from the cross-town bus, Stephanie stared in surprise at the building in which she would be teaching for the next nine months. Although she had been there several times during the week before, to meet the other teachers and decorate her classroom with posters illustrating the principles of grammar she would teach, today was the first time she had seen the school-yard filled with youngsters. With a feeling bordering on real affection, she observed the girls showing off their summer suntans and the boys gathered together in small social groups, dragging at their cigarettes with studied nonchalance. Realizing how young they were, and not necessarily the hardened delinquents she had expected them to be, she saw many of them as budding young members of the community, neatly though poorly dressed in honor of the first day of school.
It seemed almost too early for school to begin, the September sun shining just as warmly and the sky just as blue as it had been in July or August. She knew the students would think so too, later in the afternoon, when they left the school well laden with books and homework, although now they seemed to be caught up in the excitement of reacquainting themselves with old friends and scouting for new social prospects for the coming year.
Her contemplativeness was interrupted by the clanging of the first warning bell, and she hurried across the yard toward the building.
"Well, if it isn't that foxy lady with the big knockers! Is she going to be teaching here? We must be coming up in the world!" a boy snickered from among the throngs of students.
Stephanie whirled in the crowded courtyard, trying to locate the owner of the deep young voice that had risen above the chatter. Dozens of students were grinning in her direction, but now they were suddenly silent in an attempt to preserve their anonymity against her angry glare. Realizing her search was futile, she mustered her professional dignity to gird her up and strode into the entrance-way, barely hearing a feminine voice whispering in the quiet behind her.
"For chrissake, Joel, she almost caught you this time! If you want to bellow in the street, go ahead. But keep your mouth shut in school. Man, you've probably got detention hours left over from last year."
Could he have been the same boy who shouted similar obscenities at her in the street several weeks ago, she wondered as she walked through the hallways to her classroom. Whether he was the same one or not, she hoped that Joel whoever- he-was would not be one of her students. There would be enough trouble in the crowded English classes without the added problem of a loudmouthed troublemaker to incite her other students to unruliness.
Moments later, she entered her classroom as the bell sounded, signalling the beginning of the fifteen-minute home-room period. Although she waited a full minute for the students to settle down, they continued to wander around the room, chatting and laughing. One student, sloppily attired in patched jeans and a sweatshirt, stood in the back of the room carefully printing some message onto the corner of one of her posters.
"Class! You will all please be seated. And you --" she said, pointing to the boy who had been embellishing the poster. "What is your name?"
The tall, dark youth looked sullenly up from the desk on which he had already begun inscribing his initials, then broke into a lazy smile as he muttered something too low for her to hear, which caused rippling giggles- from the girls seated around him.
"I beg your pardon," Stephanie said, scowling at the tittering girls, threatening them back to silence. "I did not hear your name. Please enunciate so we can all appreciate your humor."
The boy coolly scanned every inch of her body, then drawled, "Joel Black, ma'am. My friends just call me Stud."
"Really? I can't imagine why," she retorted, recognizing his voice from the incident in the school-yard. His casual but thorough scrutiny of her lush young body under the thin, clinging summer knit had unnerved her, but she resolved not to show her discomfort. "Well, why don't you and I just sustain our scholarly acquaintanceship. I will call you Joel, and you may call me Miss Jackson." She turned away from the grinning youth to include the rest of the class in her statement.
"I am Miss Stephanie Jackson. As I have you all for fifteen minutes each day, I expect you to be here and in your seats by the time the bell rings. I expect silence while you are in this room--and respect for its fixtures. This does preclude any improvements you may have in mind for the wall- hangings or the desk tops. You may leave your overcoats, lunches and anything else you do not wish to carry with you, in the cloakroom in the back of the class."
As she spoke, she strolled to the desk where an attractive, well-developed girl sat beside Joel, swaying sensually to the music of a transistor radio plugged into her ear. "This includes your transistor radios," she snapped, plucking the plastic button from the girl's ear. "After today, all radios, whistles, yo-yos and any other toys you may find necessary to ease the pain of being back in school will be confiscated."
Not waiting for a reaction from the stunned girl, she returned to the front of the class to call the roll. After making a list of absentees, she placed the paper in an envelope outside the door, uncomfortably aware of the dozens of masculine eyes that surveyed her every move. When she re-entered the room, she found the teenagers convulsed in laughter and, following their eyes, saw Joel preening himself at his desk with several pieces of crumpled paper stuffed under his sweatshirt to simulate a woman's bustline Ignoring her presence, he mimicked Stephanie's gestures, exaggeratedly wincing when his raised little pinky came too close to his eye as he lifted and sipped from an invisible teacup. Suddenly, he doubled over to catch one of the paper breasts as it slipped down his shirt. Then he squeaked in a mock Southern accent, "They just don't make these foam rubber titties like they used to, honey chile."
Her indignation spurring her to action, Stephanie strode noisily into the room from her position in the doorway, but as the smirking boy caught sight of her watching him fondling his make-believe breasts, the bell rang and the students rapidly exited into the hallway.
As the day wore on and the students' behavior grew progressively worse, Stephanie found herself hard-pressed to calmly scold them. Each period's troublemakers seemed more ingenious than the others before them, and, by the time the last class trooped in, she felt exhausted and not a little uneasy about handling them. Her heart sank as she recognized Joel and his girl friend Cally Waters from the home-room class, ambling into the room.
"Hey, teach!" he greeted her as he halted in front of her desk, insolently letting his eyes rest on the jutting curves of her breasts, "You beginning to wish you'd stayed home and picked cotton this year? But, hell, you ain't never been that hard up, have you? What are you doin' here? Slumming?"
Startled, she gazed into his hard blue eyes and then cringed away. She had assumed the students' rowdy behavior to be mere fun, but now their antics seemed more sinister in motive. Could these teenagers have some personal grudge against her? The idea seemed unlikely, but why were they giving her such a difficult time? Too weary to admonish him for his impertinence, she waved Joel away from her desk and shuffled aimlessly through her papers as she tried to brace herself for the ordeal of the last class.
Within ten minutes, the young people were subdued sufficiently so that she could call the roll. As usual, the quieter students had chosen the seats near the front of the room, and the troublemakers --in this class the majority--had seated themselves as far to the rear as they could. In the rear of the class, in a corner, she spotted Joel, Cally, and a good-looking black boy she had not seen before. When she checked the attendance, she identified him as Ben Lewis when he answered to the name with a loud "Yow'suh!" his voice parodying the traditional "Uncle Tom" of the South.
Ignoring the attempt at humor which, she was sure, was inspired by Joel, she went on with the list, ending with Cally Waters, who also barked "Yow-suh!" Although she had already considered changing their seats to separate the mischief-makers, she did not think she could bear the additional nuisance of note-passing that this action would provoke. So, sighing, realizing her patience was near the breaking point, she announced that a simple "present" was all that was expected during roll call.
Despite her efforts to interest them in scholastic matters, the trio in the corner kept the class distracted throughout most of the period. Even during the few moments Joel chose to watch the teacher, Stephanie could not properly function as she stared in horror at Cally's manipulative attempts to bring Joel's attention back to herself. Each time the young girl felt Joel's concentration had wandered for too long a time, she would wiggle down into her chair, working her skirt high up her shapely thighs. On one occasion, Cally was forced to continue her endeavors for several minutes while Joel stared at his teacher, fascinated by Stephanie's mammoth globes bulging out against the front of her dress. Annoyed at Joel's interest in Stephanie, the girl shamelessly shimmied her hips further off the edge of the seat, splaying open her legs to show that she wore no underwear beneath her skirt.
Stephanie caught her breath as the soft mound of young resilient pubic hair appeared beneath the skirt which the girl had gathered conspicuously high up on her hips. Not wanting to draw the other students' eyes to the lewd exhibition in the back of the room, the young teacher maintained the flow of her lecture. Her hopes were rewarded when Joel swung around to whisper angrily in Cally's ear, pulling down her skirt with a sharp tug. Undismayed, the girl smiled coldly at Stephanie, as if acknowledging that the teacher had won, but only once, in the battle for the boy's attention.
Stephanie dropped her eyes away from the open challenge in the girl's sneering look. Although she recognized the absurdity of the accusation in Cally's expression, Joel's handsome face and body remained imprinted in Stephanie's mind as she surreptitiously inspected the prominent bulge in the front of the boy's trousers. Refusing to accept the possibility that she was interested in a boy more than six years her junior, she forced her mind back to the school work, attempting to avoid his irreverent blue-eyed gaze for the rest of the period.
As the day drew to an end, she became more and more dejected, admitting to herself that she had not made any noticeable progress in her labors to establish authority; and worse, she was afraid that the students were laughing at her futile attempts to police them. Though displaying only calmness, she grew even more distraught as she confiscated notes and paper airplanes while trying to continue with her professional duties. Finally, aware that the bell would ring within minutes, she assigned homework and gratefully sat down at her desk, shutting out the bedlam for the remaining moments of the class.
After the students had bolted out of the room, she collected litter from the floor, then collapsed in a chair, relaxing for the first time that day. Though she tried not to consider the disappointing events of the day, her eyes filled with hot tears as she realized that she had missed her bus, the last for over an hour. She wondered why she had ever stayed in the city after her argument with John.
She had not seen him since that night, three weeks ago, even though he had called her several times, begging her to forgive him, promising that they would start anew, on her terms. She had cringed at the sound of his voice, remembering his harsh words and cruel hands, torturing her defenseless body as she had lain imprisoned beneath him. She still trembled as she thought of his attempted penetration of her tight, never before violated, vaginal passage, his fingers pinching and pushing at her tender flesh as if she were a common whore. And now, he had the nerve to ask her to trust him.
She had hoped she would be able to forget him, maybe find fulfillment in this teaching position, but now it seemed impossible. She would have to find a way to forget her professional failures if things went on as they had today.
"Why, Miss Jackson--here so late? The parking lot will be closed in five minutes. You'd better hurry."
She looked up from the desk to see Gerard Wharton, the school principal standing over. Blinking back tears, she murmured, "Oh, I don't have a car, and I've already missed my bus. It will be a while before another comes, so I thought I'd prepare tomorrow's work." Her eyes filled again as she thought of spending more time that day in the classroom.
"My dear, you look worn out--and after your first day on the job. Let me give you a ride home," he offered. "The principal carefully lit a long, black cigar, jauntily ignoring the "No Smoking" signs posted on the classroom walls.
Though the short, swarthy man did not fit into Stephanie's image of a school official, she brightened at the prospect of an understanding ear. The possibility occurred to her that all new teachers might have the same problems she had had on her first day.
Several minutes later, Stephanie and the principal were comfortably seated in his long black sedan. Though the drafts from the car's air-conditioning unit drove suffocating streams of the foul smelling cigar smoke into Stephanie's face, she resolved to be cordial to her superior, hoping he would be able to help her in managing her hostile students.
"How was your first day of school, Miss Jack- son?" he inquired, smiling slightly as he added: "May I call you Stephanie, my dear? We'll be seeing so much of each other that it's more convenient to start out on a first name basis. Please, feel free to call me Gerard."
She reddened at his casual intimacy. "Why, of course, Mr. Wharton--I mean, Gerard. As you know, I've been in Brunswick City only a few weeks, and to tell the truth, I don't quite know what to make of the students. I... well, the atmosphere is quite different here than in the South, where I went to school." She faltered, wondering if she had offended her supervisor by her intimation that Southern schools were superior to the schools in this area.
"What you're trying to say, Stephanie, my dear," he said, resting the fuming Havana in the dashboard ashtray to better facilitate his expansive gesturing, "is that some of the little bastards are already making it impossible for you to teach."
"Why, yes, I guess that's what I meant," she gasped, astonished of his use of such crude language.
"Well, what did you expect?" he went on cheerfully as she gazed at him in wide-eyed amazement. "This is a poor neighborhood and you obviously were brought up by a monied family. Your bearing fairly screams good breeding. These young ruffians don't know what to make of sophistication such as yours. Except, perhaps," he continued genially, "to try to ruin it. You must realize that this is a culturally deprived area. The people resent education and anyone who displays greater knowledge than they've been exposed to."
" "Of course," she said impatiently. "I realize all this. But it doesn't help the situation. Besides, it's not my education that seems to be creating the disturbances. It seems to be something about... well, the fact that I'm female." She bowed her head, embarrassed by the boldness of her admission.
Wharton gazed over at the enticing contours of the young woman sharing the front seat of his car, trying to imagine how she could have gone through life without learning to enjoy the obvious benefits of such an outstandingly desirable body. "My dear Miss Jackson," he chuckled. "Of course, they would be affected by a body as exciting as yours. You don't mean to tell me that that upsets you? I'm sure an intelligent girl like you could figure out some way to use your generous endowments to your own advantage--even in the classroom."
Stephanie looked away from his shameless appraisal of her luxuriant curves, stunned that the principal of a school would even suggest such an unseemly attitude to a teacher of adolescent children. The very idea repelled her; and then, she thought back, picturing the boys in her classes, their tight trousers that revealed such intriguing bulges--bulges that suggested much more manhood than their ages would seem to warrant. And Joel... hadn't he said that his friends call him "stud"?
As the suggestively sexual word ran through her mind, her deep-rooted moral rectitude rebelled against the lascivious train of thought and she shook herself back to the pristine reality to which she was accustomed. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Wharton? I'm afraid I can't imagine what you're talking about. I'm teaching English, not sex education, sir."
Wharton sighed. Perhaps he had said too much, but, my God, he wished there were some way he could entice her to consider him as an after-school diversion. He eyed her lush form in unconcealed delight and decided to wait and see if her experiences in the classroom would make her more amenable to his lecherous inclinations. His cock hardened as he thought of this naive young girl grinding her ass around below him on a bed, the helpless target of his sexual impulses. The idea made him hot and he struggled to find a more comfortable position behind the steering wheel to conceal his jutting rod.
As Stephanie sat staring haughtily through the tinted windshield of the big car, she saw his awkward movement from the corner of her eye. Turning to him, she questioned solicitously, "Are you all right? I do hope I haven't offended you. It's just that I'm rather touchy this evening. I'm afraid the whole day was a disappointment. If you have any workable suggestion for controlling my students, naturally, I would be very appreciative."
"Would you really, my dear?" The principal had twisted to face her as he brought the car to a halt in front of her apartment house. A wide grin creased his face as he reached over to pat her knee. "Perhaps we'll be able to work something out. And if you do have problems, I do hope you'll feel free to step into my office. It's very private, believe me."
Stephanie managed to sputter a polite thank you for his kindness, realizing that he had taken her innocent offer of "appreciation" to mean much more than she had intended. Blushing furiously, she rushed out of the car and through the door of the building before he might embarrass her further.
That filthy old man probably tries the same thing on every new young teacher that comes in, she thought as she finished her dinner in the growing darkness of her kitchen. She had lingered over the small steak and salad, not wanting to face another evening alone in the apartment, yet uneasy about going out into the streets where muggings and rapes seemed to be accepted as common occurrences.
Sliding her chair up to the window, she looked out into the deep pink twilight reflected in the swimming pool in the center courtyard of the rectangular apartment house. From the vantage point of her first-floor apartment, Stephanie could view most of the swimming pool and playground area, although several feet of shrubbery grew between her window and the paved walks.
Sipping the last wine from the bottle she had bought for dinner, she decided to wait awhile before turning on the apartment lights. The dimness was soothing to her jangled nerves and it was enjoyable to look out over the quiet courtyard while sorting out the confused images that remained from the day's disillusioning events. It was a cloudy night, the amber lights of the pool making up for the absent moonlight as the indigo sky deepened to black. Almost all the other first- floor windows glowed dimly from the lights within, but everything was calm and still as the shadows merged into darkness.
She gazed out at the golden lights on the water, wondering why fate had suddenly turned against her. John had betrayed her, her students refused to obey her, and even the school's principal had turned out to be one more example of the single- minded selfishness she had come to expect from all men. She couldn't believe that this heartbreaking string of emotional catastrophes was all her fault. She had tried to conduct her life according to the principles she had been taught, but her virtue was never rewarded. Unhappiness and discontent seemed to cling to her like a cloud that darkened and blurred her every experience.
The worst of it was that she could not control her life the way she knew she must. That night with John--she had been excited, and her fear had grown with the recognition of her arousal. How could she hold him in check if she could not control her own immoral passion? The experience had been too degrading to bear and now she knew she could never trust him again, because she could not trust herself.
A sudden noise penetrated her thoughts. A young girl's muted laughter and the lap-lapping of the water drew her attention to the pool. Although she could not see a large section of the pool area through the dark leaves of the bushes, she watched curiously for several minutes until a couple hoisted themselves up over the edge of the walkway surrounding the water. Stephanie saw that the girl was as young as she, but with long blond hair that glistened wetly under the yellow lights. The young man was dark, but tall and slim like John.
Whispering and laughing, the pair strolled around the pool, holding hands and carrying their damp towels over their shoulders in the still- warm night. As they reached the walkway before her open window, Stephanie saw them slow and then stop to hold a quiet conversation. Suddenly, the man parted the wall of branches and they slipped through the bushes to a small clearing directly below her window.
"I don't think there's anyone home here, do you?" she heard the girl murmur. Stephanie jerked back from the sill on which she had been leaning, afraid they might see her and decide to leave.
"They couldn't see us anyway," the man said softly. "It's too dark and we're well-hidden. But we'd better be quiet."
From the dark kitchen, Stephanie could easily watch the couple, although the clearing was concealed from the walks and other windows by the dense screen of foliage. Even as she advised herself to turn on the light or move away from the window, she again leaned to watch, prompted by her curiosity to discover what they were planning.
She had been surprised by the girl's voice. The young blond, like Stephanie, was obviously from the South, her accent indicating that she had come from a family of gentility and refinement. Stephanie was struck by the coincidence, but she could not help but wonder what a cultured young woman would be doing in the bushes in the dark of night.
Her question was answered all too quickly as the blond girl lay down on the grassy earth and reached playfully up to the man standing beside her. He quickly dropped to the ground and enveloped her in a passionate embrace. Moments later, when the girl slowly dislodged herself from his tender grip, the top of her two-piece bathing suit slipped from her body. The garment had been cleverly unclasped during the heated kiss, and now the man whistled in admiration as the rose-crested spheres appeared over the limp cloth.
Stephanie shuddered in sympathy for the girl. Remembering her own humiliating experiences, she hoped the girl would fare better than she. But the blond only giggled at her young man's adeptness and reached down to fondle the bulging crotch of his bathing trunks. Stephanie's eyes widened in horror as the girl sat up to draw down the singled garment from the man's loins. His massive column of hardened flesh was disclosed, standing stark white against the golden tan that covered the rest of his body.
Stephanie knew she should move, get up, go away from the window, yet she felt glued to the chair. The sight mesmerized her, and she wondered how any woman could contain such a monstrous thing in the narrow passage of her vagina.
Her eyes skittered guiltily back to the girl's face. The young girl was also staring at the erect penis, a wanton expression stealing over her face. Her slim body gleamed like ivory in the amber light. Her breasts, though smaller than Stephanie's mammoth tits, stood proud and high, the nipples shrinking to tight tawny buttons in the cool breeze that had suddenly whispered through the leaves around them.
Wearing a smug grin, the deeply tanned, handsome man lay back with his hands clasped behind his head. His long, thick prick rose totem-like from his gently swaying loins, his heavy balls hanging like filled wine sacs between his casually spread legs.
The blond girl turned on her side toward him and, reaching out with her hand, began stroking him, sliding the loose foreskin up and down in a slow rhythm. With a look of blissful concentration, she fondled the blunt head until the tiny mouth at the tip was gasping, opening and closing like the jaws of a tiny fish out of water.
Stephanie was trembling all over, gulping down the last of the wine with fingers shaking so violently the glass rattled against her teeth. The alcohol spread through her with a glowing warmth, but she knew it was not the liquor that was causing the burning sensation that had, without warning, flooded her throbbing cunt with such urgency.
Stephanie watched, fascinated, as the girl rose to her knees and hovered over the man on all fours, her face a scant few inches from the pulsing moist head of his prick. She held it tightly between both hands, caressing it between her palms in a teasing up and down motion that forced the man's hips to undulate in time to her maddening cadence.
Impulsively, the slim girl lowered her head down until her lips were pressed against the underside of the man's straining cock. She ran her open mouth in long glistening trails along the heavily-veined length of the jerking rod, finally lighting on the smooth, blood-gorged head, where her tongue licked out hungrily on the ruby glans. The girl strained forward as if trying to suck the instrument into her mouth, but the man laughed and wriggled away until it was just out of her reach of her lips. Still, her tongue flicked up and down the underside of the throbbing ridge below.
Her muscles taut as bowstrings, Stephanie reacted involuntarily to the waves of sensation that quivered through her body from her tiny swollen clitoris. Rubbing gently against the hardness of the wooden chair, she tried to ease her discomfort. Then, with a sigh of surrender, she slipped her hand down between her legs, letting it rest against the slowly moistening crotchband of her panties.
Suddenly, she saw the young girl cover the full, pulsating head of the man's hardened cock in her soft warm lips. The man groaned, thrusting up his hips to push the throbbing, sensitive knob deep into the moist cavern of the girl's mouth.
Stephanie fell back from the window in a state of silent shock. How could that girl perform such an obscene, degrading act--and she seemed to be enjoying it! But even as she tried to imagine the poor girl's motivation, Stephanie again bent toward the window to observe her actions.
With dedicated abandon, the girl was now hungrily sucking the wet, gleaming organ, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked greedily. One hand stroked the base of his cock, the other kneading and rubbing the soft skin of his dangling testicles. Then, as if suddenly weary of the game, the blond sat up, leaving the man's aroused rod cleaving the air by itself.
"Don't I get any?" Stephanie heard the girl whisper in a voice husky with emotion. Once again, she was struck by the young girl's deep Southern accent, so heartbreakingly familiar in this land of rough-speaking Yankees.
The man just grinned and pushed her to the ground. Tucking his fingers under the elastic rim at the waist of the bottom half of her bathing suit, he peeled the damp garment down over her hips and thighs, then laughed as the girl kicked out to rid herself of the panties when they clung wetly to her ankles. Still chuckling lewdly, the man rolled onto the girl, covering her body with his own, spreading her unresisting legs wide apart with his knees.
As Stephanie looked down and between the man's buttocks, she could see the pulsing rubbery tip of his cock grazing the soft velvet flesh of the girl's vagina. She almost called out from the window, begging the girl to save herself while there was still time, but one look at the rapturous expression on the blond's face stilled the warning in Stephanie's throat. Seeing the thick rod rubbing against the swollen pink cuntal lips, Stephanie wondered again why the young girl showed no fear. Even though she had never experienced sexual intercourse, Stephanie was afraid that the hard, club-like instrument was too large to ever fit, even by force, into the narrow opening of the girl's tiny cuntal passage. Still, the blond seemed willing, almost frantic, to have the huge masculine phallus thrust into her.
Stephanie watched as the man eased forward, gently, as if to ease the pain of the initial thrust. But the mouth of the girl's cunt seemed to be clasping and reaching at his shaft, as if to suck the rock-hard flesh into her. The girl's hips began a desperate rotation up against his loins until her legs, without warning, snaked out wide on either side of his body, her calves locking against the back of his thighs, pulling him closer to her.
Little mewling noises came from deep in the blond's throat as the man deftly wedged his cock into her vulnerable open pussy, accompanying each thrust with a loud bestial grunt. Gradually he levered into her, the length of the giant pole disappearing between the tender pink folds of the girl's moist hair-lined opening, while she shamelessly ground her entire body up against him.
As the man slid the wet gleaming prick in and out of the dark soft cavern of the girl's hair-lined slit, Stephanie viewed the scene, her mouth agape in amazement. The young girl on the ground below her had winced in pain, but only at the initial penetration, and now the great male cock invaded her rhythmically like a drill tunneling deep into her belly, drawing muted moans of ecstasy from the blond's lust-contorted lips.
As she watched, her emotions a mingling of excitement and disgust, Stephanie was almost unaware of the actions of her own hand as her fingertips pulled aside the moistured crotchband of her panties and began stroking the soft outer flanges of her own cunt, spreading the juicy flesh gently apart and hotly manipulating her own now-erect clitoris.
Below her window, the couple were gasping and panting in delight as the man began to rock more violently in and out of the girl's now hot steaming pussy. The young blond began a series of lurid gyrations, swaying her buttocks in long sensuous circular motions to accommodate the long thick cock fucking into her.
"Ooooh, darling, please, fuck it hard! Fuck me harder!" Stephanie heard the girl gasp.
Stephanie's own finger was plunging in and out of her tight virginal passage, stretching and filling the narrow gap in an attempt to share in the couple's passionate union. She knew that her excited reaction to the spectacle was horrible, debasing, but somehow she couldn't stop--not while the animal grants from the bushes below filled her ears with their carnal symphony of licentious lust.
The young teacher watched, spellbound, as the blond girl's eyes opened and closed in a lost glaze of passion. The man's balls were slapping wetly against the girl's raised buttocks, and he slammed brutally into her moist red slit, burying his cock to the hilt with every thrust. Shivers of lewd delight surged through Stephanie's fluttering nerve ends as she realized that this was a madness she had never known--a total surrender to the lure of the flesh. She screwed her hips down against the pressure of her probing finger, trying desperately to imagine that she, too, held a rigid, pulsing cock within her.
Suddenly, the young girl's body arched stiffly in spastic irregular movements, and the man clasped his hand tightly over her mouth to muffle the screams of exquisite pleasure that rasped from her throat. Filled with concern for the girl's safety, Stephanie watched, until she realized that the girl was not in pain but in the throes of unbearable pleasure. Overwhelmed by the sight of the girl's body being wracked by the monstrous wave of emotion, she shrank back from the window, afraid that she had no right to intrude on such a moment. But as harsh masculine moans came to her ears, she leaned back to the sill and gazed down to see him still ramming fiercely into the girl, the muscles of his buttocks and thighs standing out from the exertion.
"I'm cumming... aah!" he gasped as his body drove on.
Stephanie saw the thick pole swelling and lurching in the girl's hungry vagina as he began spewing his hot sperm deep up into the blond's hot slippery passage. Finally, with an empty groan, the man rolled from between the girl's thighs to lie exhausted beside her.
Stephanie turned away from the sight of the panting, spent couple. She was furious with frustration as her own passion was so near its crest. Oblivious to the rules of propriety or dignity, she kicked out her legs and strained at the hair-lined slit between her open thighs, digging greedily into herself, trying to reach the impossible depths of her aching cunt. Her body quivered and shook as she tried to share in her lonely status of spectator the peak of emotion that had pounded through the body of the blond girl only moments before.
"Hey, I can hear something going on in that apartment. Do you think anyone was watching us?" Stephanie heard the girl whisper outside the window. She heard the soft words as if from a great distance as she forced herself into a greater and greater sexual frenzy.
"Well, if someone was, he or she probably got a good show. Who knows? Maybe it's just some frustrated old maid trying to get herself off on her finger." The bushes rustled quietly as the laughing couple slipped away from their hiding place.
Stephanie's body froze as the man's last words penetrated her lust-clouded mind. She looked down in horror at her hands buried deep up between her widespread thighs, then rose slowly, crossing over to the sink to wash off her sticky fingers.
Her newly-aroused lust vanishing as her rationality returned, Stephanie stumbled into her bedroom, overwhelmed by self-disgust. Visions of the couple's lewd activities and her own weakness flashed through her mind like scenes from a dirty movie, and she shuddered, wondering how she, Stephanie Jackson, could have watched such a nauseating display. She felt soiled, debased by the experience, and she searched in her mind for a way out of her guilt.
Her throbbing cunt still tingled hungrily, but she ignored the sensual demands of her body, too revulsed by her own actions to even consider continuing the self-defilement. Though every muscle in her body was taut with frustration, she denied her needs, feeling that somehow, in watching the thrashing couple below her window, she had damaged her purity and innocence.
Haunted by returning thoughts of the couple's obscene behavior, she undressed and crept into bed. She lay for hours, harshly reprimanding herself for her immoral desires, trying to forget the ache between her thighs that begged to be soothed and released from the purgatory of unfulfilled desire. Sleep came at last, driving away the horrible, lewd thoughts generated by her evening at the window.
CHAPTER FOUR
Momentarily puzzled, Stephanie looked over the class as she sat at her desk waiting for the students to finish their first grammar test of the year. There seemed to be something unusual about the classroom atmosphere, she thought, and then with a delighted smile, she realized that the class was being quiet, an extraordinary occurrence. It was Friday afternoon, the end of her first week as a teacher, and she already had learned to dread each day of classes. As she waited for some stirring among the students as they completed, or lost interest, in the examination, she attempted to assemble the events of the week in some kind of rational order.
She thought back to Monday--the fruitless day of teaching followed by her evening of sensual debasement, watching the couple on the ground below her window. She thought she would remember that day forever as the worst of her life, but subsequent days of trying to control her unruly pupils had proven to be even more frustrating, and sometimes terrifying.
Remembering the principal's words, she had tried to be kind and understanding to the youths who had been raised in this poverty-stricken neighborhood, but she had learned quickly that they could not be trusted while she turned her back, much less reached by sympathy or compassion. Her gestures of friendship were met by sneers and laughter or, worse, suggestive proposals for after- class meetings from the braver boys. Her embarrassment changed to despair as she began to read the notes that were circulating among her students. How could she deal with these young people who thought only in terms of sex and violence?
Still, she reddened as she thought of the contents of those messages that had been passed from student to student, prompting giggles from the girls, insulting snickers from the boys. She had only three of the notes, found on the classroom floor as she tried to neaten the room after school, but she was afraid there were more. "Miss Jackson holds fucking classes after school."
"Miss Jackson's tits weight eights pounds each."
"Miss Jack- son sucks off the principal every night."
Although the scandalous little bulletins were repulsive and humiliating, she could not help but wonder how children of fifteen and sixteen would learn to use such obscene language. And what must they think of her to write such things--even as an adolescent prank? She had been too mortified to say a word about the notes to her students, afraid that by acknowledging the missives' existence she would encourage more lewd misrepresentations of her character. She had hoped that she would be able to retain at least her dignity in the classroom.
Even that hope had been dashed yesterday afternoon when she had returned from lunch to find three students she had never seen before struggling on the floor in the cloakroom behind her class. Stunned, she watched the melee for several minutes before she realized the two boys were attempting to rape the young girl. Knowing that she could not handle the brawny youths alone, she left the doorway in which she had been standing to run to another teacher's room and bring him back to help her save the struggling girl who was about to be ravaged. When she returned with the chemistry instructor from the next room, the storage area was deserted and, in her classroom, all the desks were empty--except in the rear corner where Joel, Cally and Ben sat, their smugly grinning faces buried studiously in their grammar books. Not until much later in the day had she realized that the nerve-shattering episode had only been a charade, enacted to taunt her. The other teacher had smiled sympathetically at her, but left the class without speaking to the demurely complacent students, as if he knew that questions or accusations were futile.
And now, they were so quiet that she felt herself wondering if they had some new deviltry planned to mock her. As she looked out once again over the classroom, she saw with surprise that, they were now done with their papers and gazing back at her. Their unexpected good behavior gave her back some of the self-confidence she had lost in the last several days, and she decided to hold on to her luck for as long as she could.
The last class continued to go well until a half hour before the final bell was to ring. Then, her prime troublemakers, Joel, Cally and Ben, commenced their customary antics with seemingly even more enthusiasm than usual. For the first time since Monday, Cally began once again to tease the boys by pulling her dress higher and higher, although never quite exposing her youthful triangle of pubic hair. Joel did not seem to notice or care, but spent his time whispering to Ben and other boys around him, causing eruptions of laughter from the youths as they turned to stare pointedly at Stephanie's bulging breasts.
The young teacher found herself growing more and more angry at the unruly students for the distracting and embarrassing activities in the back of the room, and finally, in a desperate attempt to gain their attention, she called Joel to the front of the classroom.
"Joel, I want a simple conjugation on the blackboard. Choose a regular verb and conjugate it in the first person singular," she ordered, rising from her desk to walk to the far side of the room where she could easily watch Joel and the rest of the class.
The tall handsome boy sauntered slowly up to the blackboard and carefully chose a piece of chalk. He turned once to insolently rake her body with his eyes, then began to write in large letters. I FUCK... I FUCKED... I HAVE FUCKED... I WILL FUCK...
As Stephanie saw the shock register on many students faces, she turned to the blackboard and gaped in disbelief. This was the last straw! Infuriated, she whirled to face Joel.
"I will not have this obscenity in my classroom!" she said slowly, barely keeping her indignant rage in check. Her green eyes blazed at the boy who coolly lounged against the opposite wall, imperturbably examining her heaving chest. "You have disrupted this class too often. I want you to stay after class today for an hour. Perhaps without an audience, you might learn to exhibit a little courtesy!"
It was the first time she had detained a student, and, as she said the words, she was immediately sorry. She knew she was afraid to be alone in the room with the insolent youth. Hoping to gain some protection in numbers, she turned to his cohorts in the back of the room, choosing Ben and Cally to share in Joel's punishment that afternoon. The students sat quietly through her outburst, only Cally reacting with a broad smile as if she had been given a treat rather than a punitive decree.
Stephanie hurriedly erased the obscene words from the blackboard, forcing herself back to calmness. When she turned back to face the class, she was dumbfounded to see that suddenly they were all quiet, attentive, watching and waiting for her next words. She again began her lecture, resigned to the inevitability of a new outburst within minutes, but despite her fears, the class cooperated through the rest of the period as never before. She was amazed and pleased as each student willingly answered her questions and paid attention to her teaching. Perhaps, she thought, she had finally found the key. Detention was apparently the only threat the troublemakers reacted to. Maybe now there was a chance of controlling them.
CHAPTER FIVE
At last, the final bell rang, and, though the class had progressed beautifully, Stephanie was relieved to see them go. She was grateful for their unbelievably sudden scholastic interest, but she dreaded the hour to be spent with the three students and she wanted to get it over with. She had chosen the worst of her pupils for the detention, as they were the ones who deserved the punishment, but now she wished there were at least one good student among them, someone to come to her aid if they misbehaved.
The three had remained in their seats in the back of the room as the other students trooped out, and now she began to address them.
"I'm sorry I had to resort to this grade school punishment, but you all have been insufferably rude and noisy this week. I want each of you to write an apology to me and the rest of the class for your activities this week. They must be grammatically perfect and two pages long. If you control yourselves during this hour, I'll grade them and hand them back to you on Monday. But," she continued with a threatening glance, "if you give me any trouble at all, you'll have to read them out loud to the class next week. Please begin."
She watched in amazement as all three obediently pulled pens and paper from their desks and began to write. It was more than she had dared hope for, but they showed no resistance to her demands. She watched them work for several minutes, then sat down at her desk to grade the day's tests.
Still tense from her emotional outburst in the last class, she found it difficult to concentrate on her work and finally decided to leave the room for a quick drink of water. With a searching glance at the students still working steadily in the back of the room, she quietly walked out into the hall and down to the fountain at the far end.
The school seemed deserted and she wondered why no other teachers were in their classrooms. Although she had never stayed for more than a few minutes after the last bell, Stephanie had assumed that some teachers would want to remain after the others had gone to finish paper work or meet with students in private conferences. But today, everything was completely silent, and she remembered that even the janitor would not be there as the school was thoroughly cleaned by a staff of women on each Saturday. Once again, she sighed with relief that the youths were being so cooperative. She had not considered the possibility that she would be alone with them in a deserted building.
The sound of Stephanie's footsteps echoed in the empty corridor as she walked back to the classroom, and a slight feeling of unease passed through her as she reached the doorway of her classroom. Nevertheless, she shrugged away the disquieting sensation, thinking that they could not do any more than harass her and by now, she was used to that.
She walked back to her desk, glancing perfunctorily at the still-working students. Checking the clock, she noted that it had only been ten minutes since the last bell; the hour had hardly begun. She chided herself for her nervousness and bent again to her work.
Several minutes later, she heard a soft moan from the back of the room. As she sat engrossed in her work, she barely heard the tiny sound, but it was repeated more loudly and, startled, she looked up to find its source. None of the three students were in their seats, and she finally realized that the sound must be coming from the long, dark cloakroom behind the class. The plaintive voice sounded again, this time more loudly, and she hurried from her desk to the dark doorway leading into the shadowy closet. Pausing at the entrance, she peered inside and saw the two boys standing over the reclining body of Cally Waters. The young girl lay still on the hardwood floor. As Stephanie watched, the girl stirred, lifting her hand slowly to her stomach as if in pain.
The young teacher rushed to the girl's side, pushing through the boys to reach the motionless form. As she came beside Cally, Stephanie bent over to check the pulse in the limp wrist the girl had rested across her belly, but before she could touch the girl's arm, Stephanie felt strong hands gripping her arms and shoulders, jerking her to her feet.
As Stephanie watched in fear-struck confusion, Cally's eyes flew open and the girl smiled smugly. Her seemingly lifeless body suddenly springing to painless action, the young girl reached down to pull up her short skirt, spreading wide her thighs to show her soft pink vaginal lips. The girl's hair-lined slit glistened damply as her legs parted, and she swayed her hips gracefully as if in sensual anticipation.
Stephanie struggled weakly against the restraining hands as she tried to understand the girl's lewd behavior. Suddenly, everything became all too clear as Joel stepped out of the shadows behind her, grinning evilly with one hand tightly clamped around the base of his hard thick penis that jutted obscenely from his open trousers. He stepped around to face Stephanie and waved the heavy cock before her cringing body, then moved back to position himself between Cally's open legs. Squatting down, he reached out his hand to run his fingertips down the open crack of Cally's pussy. As his long fingers brushed the little lips of tender flesh on either side of the pink, moist aperture, the girl's body trembled under his touch, and Stephanie heard her gasp softly.
"What... what are you doing to her?" Stephanie stuttered, as her mind raced frantically to find a way out of the unbelievable situation. But, as she watched, Joel just smiled more broadly and leaned over the girl's body, propping himself in a push-up position in apparent readiness for the next act in the drama the youths were enacting.
"Why, Miss Jackson," he drawled, glancing up at her from his slow unbuttoning of Cally's blouse, "you been so good about teaching us all that grammar this week, well, we thought we'd return the favor and show you a thing or two about the thing that we're best at."
Cally squirmed below him as he reached into her clothing and grabbed one of her budding young breasts, pushing back the opened blouse to expose his actions to Stephanie's horrified gaze. The young girl, seemingly just past puberty, acted entirely at ease under his manipulations and the boy kneaded at her small, firm tit with lustful vigor.
Fighting frantically to release herself from the hands that she now realized must belong to the black boy, she almost broke into bitter laughter, thinking that this would be the second sexual demonstration she would view in the space of one week. At last, she decided that her struggles were futile, and, vowing not to show fear to these animal-like ruffians, she made up her mind to call the Board of Education as soon as they freed her. She would have these hoodlums removed from her class and, hopefully, from the school. She knew she had been a fool to even trust them while she turned her back to write on the blackboard, but now, despite her revulsion at their vile actions, she was greatly concerned about Cally's safety. The girl seemed too young to really understand what she was doing to herself, but seemed to have complete trust in Joel who was now gleefully pinching and pulling at the hardened nipple of the girl's smooth exposed sphere.
The boy's hand left Cally's breast and he adjusted his stance, placing both hands firmly on the floor above her shoulders. Suddenly, he deftly lodged his lurching cock between the pink moist flanges of the girl's cunt, then with an enormous thrust rammed the brutal instrument into the moist, ready slit, forcing a deep groan from Cally's open lips.
Imagining the girl in unbearable pain, Stephanie lunged forward to try to pull the demoniacally grinning boy from Cally's ravaged loins. She was again held back by the brute strength of Ben's hands and sobbed out in anguish, "Please, let me go! Good God, can't you see? He's killing her!" But the big black boy only laughed at her plea. As she struggled madly toward the couple, she saw Cally's hips begin a rhythmic rotation as she lay under Joel, skewered on his invading cock. The staggering realization came to Stephanie that this girl was no novice at such depraved actions.
The young teacher tried to block out the depraved spectacle before her, but couldn't. She had to look--the hellish exposition was mesmerizing her. Not three feet from where she stood the youthful couple were heaving and bucking in an obscene fucking unison. She could see the tiny pink ridges of Cally's moist young pussy clasped tightly around the base of Joel's glistening cock as he thrust into her with each savage stroke. A moist, sucking sound of intercourse reverberated from the walls of the dim closet and the thud of his balls slapping against the young girl's willingly upturned ass-cheeks joined it melodiously.
As Stephanie watched in a near-coma of horror and fascination, she felt the black boy's hand creeping around to the front of her dress to pinch and tweak at her nipples through the light fabric of her white blouse. Though her mind was repelled by the debasing exhibition before her, her body responded to the touch and she could feel the tips of her breasts tightening to tiny buttons under the probing fingers. Her eyes were wide in hypnotized disbelief as she saw Joel's surging cock sliding up and down through the bearded, mouth shaped opening of Cally's cunt. She knew she should reach out and tear them apart, but the tightness of the arms holding her back would not permit it. She closed her eyes and pressed her head back against the chest of the tall Negro, but still the vision of Joel's rampaging prick, wet and shining, buffeting into the moist softness of Cally's vagina, raced through her mind. She clenched her eyes tightly but still could not blot out the lewd vulgar picture. The couple's loud gasps and the wet sucking noises of their fucking drifted to her ears, magnifying the image a thousand times.
The black boy's hand ground harder into Stephanie's breasts and a paralyzing thought suddenly struck her like a blow. Why did they bring her back here to watch this... unless they planned to rape her too! The boy who held her gave a sudden hard pinch against her hard rubbery nipple sending a flash of pain down her body. She uttered a low helpless groan and pleaded desperately, "Please, Ben, don't touch me there!" Tears bubbled in her eyes as only silence and more humiliating handling of her breasts answered her plea. They had her in a position where she couldn't fight back and they knew it. There was no one else in the school building to hear her if she screamed, no one to help her save her virginity against the merciless attacks of these slum animals.
Suddenly, Stephanie's attention was jerked back to the scene before her by a soul-searing groan that went on and on, recoiling loudly from the walls of the room. She looked down to the floor and saw Joel gasping and moaning with Cally more softly echoing his every sound. The boy pummelled heartlessly into the young girl's vaginal passage, plunging again and again. And then, Joel began spewing his white hot load deep into Cally's upturned cunt, the force of his orgasm sending hot cascading sperm foaming back out of her hair- lined cunt-lips and down the desperately clenching cleft of her ass. Almost insanely, the girl screwed her buttocks tightly onto the still squirting prick sunk deep into her belly, and as the boy gave one final lunge into her semen flooded cuntal passage, she let out a whimpering wail from between clenched teeth, and Stephanie saw her body shudder violently as a great crest of pleasure wracked her body.
Stephanie's body was taut with the tension of the scene before her. The young couple lay exhausted on the floor, until Ben's deep voice broke into the silence.
"Well, Miz Jackson," he said tauntingly, mocking her Southern accent, "how'd ya'll like that? That inspire you any?" The boy behind her laughed sinisterly. "Now we're gonna see how well you learned our lesson."
"Please, Ben!" she sobbed, near hysteria as Ben's hands began to brutally knead and tug at her soft bulging breasts. "The principal is going to hear about this--and your parents! I will not be treated like this!"
The boy behind her just laughed as she gasped out her fury and fear. Roused by the conversation, Joel and Cally got up from where they lay on the floor, Joel's limp prick still dripping long sticky strings of the sperm he had just pumped into Cally.
Standing before her and grinning widely into her fear-struck face, Joel said slowly with the same insulting intonations Ben had used, "Why, teacher-lady, you ain't gonna do nothing right now, and that's all we're interested in. Hell, we've all been thrown out of school before, and, as for our beloved principal, well," he smirked, "the old bastard's been trying to get into Cally's pants for over a year now. You can take care of him, can't ya, honey?" he asked, turning to Cally.
As Stephanie watched the girl nod her smug assent, Joel took a step toward his teacher and caught her wrist, jerking her to the floor. Stephanie stumbled to her knees, her head spinning. As her mind cleared, she realized with horror that his words about the principal were probably true. She looked around her at the two boys, watching as ugly carnal leers distorted their faces. The girl stood by with an innocent cheerful smile that was somehow even more frightening. Her mind reeled in disbelief as her simple dread gave way to rising panic and horror. She fought within herself to maintain her dignity, trying desperately to hold on to her identity as these youths' teacher, their superior. But there were too many of them, and in her eyes they were not the same troublesome, but harmless, boys and prematurely sensual young girl she had known in the classroom. Now, their expressions were sinister masks of lust and ill- will, and she found herself afraid to fight them too much for fear they would harm her even more.
"Please, Joel," she cried, hoping to find sympathy with the boy who had already emptied himself in Cally's vagina. "Don't let them hurt me." Hot tears ran down her face as she thought of her long-saved virginity, her fiance estranged by her efforts to preserve it. "I... I'm a virgin... I can't let you do this to me."
The boy with the still-dripping cock looked down at her in mock sympathy. "Well, Miz Jack- son, honey, it only hurts a little and, anyway," he added, a cruel smile twisting his handsome face, "we're gonna have a real expert break you in. My buddy Ben just loves white girls and it will be such a treat for him to break in a tender little ol' Southern piece like you!"
She winced in terror at his words, crying out as the black boy stepped out from behind Joel and opened his trousers to expose the huge gleaming ebony shaft that rose from its nest of wiry black pubic hair like a dark stone monolith. She fell back to the floor, petrified with fear, babbling almost incoherently. "No, not that! Please, no! Not a nigger! I can't do it. Please... " But the tall, well-muscled black boy just stood above her and smiled cruelly, his white teeth gleaming in contrast with his dark brown skin. "I knew it, Miss Jackson. You just ain't heard." Leaning down, he almost spat into Stephanie's face, "Baby, they called off the Civil War. We equal now, and I'm gonna show ya' a little of the best kind of black power--right up in your tight little pussy. How d'ya like that, honky? You're gonna get fucked by a big black nigger stud!"
He laughed as Stephanie cringed away from his hot breath rasping onto her face. Turning to Joel, he muttered in disgust, "Christ! She's almost pitiful--probably had a black mammy to raise back home on the plantation." She groaned in humiliation at his words, remembering her childhood with Abby, the fat Negro woman who had taken care of her until she was twelve. Before her thoughts travelled any further, Cally and Joel bent over her, gripping her shoulders to hold her still while Ben reached out to unzip the back of her skirt and unbutton her blouse. Not giving her time to react to the indignities, he tore the garments off her body, as well as the lacy slip she had worn that day in celebration of the last day of the school week. The soft white expanse of her thighs and belly were suddenly exposed to their view and she pulled her knees up to her chest to cover her nakedness.
As she crouched there on the cold wood floor, stiff with shock, the cold reality of the situation suddenly hit her. She was going to be raped! Raped by a gang of vicious street youths who thought and acted like animals and had little compassion or feeling towards her or any other human being. Her buttocks quivered convulsively from the terrifying thought of what her fate was to be in a few short minutes. Her eyes skipped over the boys' faces and she saw no mercy or reprieve in their expressions, only undisguised bestial passion. The Negro's face remained imprinted in her mind, his look a mask of lust and anger at all the whites who had ever shown prejudice against his race. She knew that she would be the target for all the rage and frustration Ben had developed over the years of being mistreated or ignored by people like herself. She was horror-stricken but she knew it would do no good to beg for mercy.
She groaned as she felt a hardness from Joel beside her rising on her cheek. Already reviving from his shameless exhibition with Cally, he was pushing his swelling penis into her face, and as she tried to move away from the unwelcome pressure, he took his hand from her shoulder and pressed her head tightly against the pulsing sticky rod, burying her face in his damp pubic hair until she could hardly breathe. He locked her head in position with one hand while the other worked clumsily at her brassiere clasp. Suddenly, it snapped apart, and her full lush breasts, large and resilient, fell free.
She struggled violently to free herself from the humiliating position, but as her body bucked, Ben grabbed her thin nylon panties and tore them down over her flailing legs. She gasped in shame as the now-useless pieces of underwear were tossed aside. She felt suddenly aware of the cold and her nipples sprang into defensive hardness, their tiny bud-like tips throbbing from their sudden exposure to the cool air. The boy beside her wasted no time, and his hand slipped around her body to cup the full round ripeness of her right breast, squeezing the huge sphere to bring a groan from Stephanie's lips. Still not satisfied, Joel proceeded to pinch the small rubbery nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it tightly between them as he felt her squirming with all her strength to dislodge her face from his crotch. Continuing to knead and pinch at her breasts, he was interrupted by a loud angry rebuke from Cally.
"Joel, for chrissake! Wait your fucking turn! Ben gets first crack at the bitch!" Stephanie sensed deep jealous resentment in Cally's voice and wondered for the first time if the young girl hadn't master-minded the whole nightmarish plot. She had not time to consider the possibility as Ben suddenly tore her tightly-clenched thighs apart and crouched menacingly down between her legs.
"Well, teacher, you thought you were too high- class for us, didn't ya'?" he said, grinning lasciviously. "Tell ya' what we'll do for you--being that you're just a little Southern girl and all Ya' want me to fuck ya' right away? Or would ya' like for Joel to warm ya' up a little?"
"No, please!" she gasped, shaking her head violently from side to side, as if the intensity of her protest could stem the inevitable cruelty of the attack. But her protestations were muffled by Ben's hand as he rose and stepped behind her, clapping one hand over her mouth and grasping her shoulder with the other. Joel stepped into place between her thighs, once again pushing her legs brutally apart. She stared fixedly into the pitiless blue eyes of the youth, her brain struggling for the proper words of entreaty. Cally and Ben pulled her shoulders down to the floor, pinioning her arms until now she was spread- eagle before Joel who knelt before her looking down, hands on hips, his prick erect again and hovering menacingly over her helpless form.
"Shit, man," Joel chuckled to Ben, "if you weren't my friend, I sure would like to tear off a little piece of this right now. Look at that tight little pussy squirm!"
"Yeah, baby, but this broad ain't heard about the black liberation--and these Dixie gals really go wild when they're liberated by a big black buck! Ain't that so, honey-chile?" he taunted, jostling Stephanie's shoulder. "Go on, man!" Ben urged the other boy. "Loosen her up for me. She just don't know how much she gonna like this. Lick her honky cunt!"
Joel gazed down at the full white thighs that merged into the tender pink lips of her cunt, his eyes bulging with hot uncontrolled desire. Moving his hands under the full-rounded cheeks of her buttocks, he placed his thumbs on either side of the soft hair-lined cleft between them and pressed out gently. Her buttocks clenched together against the pressure he was exerting, but her muscles slowly tired, bit by bit, relaxing until he had pulled the lips of her cunt wide apart, straining open her thighs until the stretched muscles ached. Bringing his face down to the same level with the thin red hair-lined fold of flesh that covered her vagina, he could see a slight moisture forming and glistening as the protectively closed lips slipped wider apart.
The boy gazed greedily for a moment and then with an animal like groan, he dropped his head and buried the full length of his long slippery tongue snake like into the warm throbbing walls of her naked pussy.
Stephanie jerked, a tortured moan escaping from deep in her chest. Tears streamed in tiny rivulets as the helplessness of her position leapt through her confused mind. She tried to struggle to her elbows, determined to stop the lewd outrages he was visiting upon her body, but the sudden sight of the girl and the black boy grinning in vicious triumph above her choked back the sound of protest rising from in her throat. There was no hope, she knew, and the only way to get out of this room without being hurt more was by submitting to their obscene demands. Still, her naked buttocks ground down into the cold hard floor, trying to escape the boy's maddening assault on her secret genitals. She forced her head up, her eyes wide in terror to see him hunched on all fours between her wide-spread thighs, grinning up at her between her proud, upstanding breasts, like a beast of prey ready to pounce on its helpless victim. The pink, moist flesh of her naked vagina was presented up to his leering face in defenseless sacrifice, and he drew her tiny, now-erect clitoris wetly into his hot, moist mouth. He nibbled at it with the sharp tips of his teeth until she cried out in pain. His head dived lower and his mouth and tongue worked at the wide-spread tightness of her cunt. With eyes opened wide in arrogant delight, he watched the contortions of her face up through the quivering white mounds of her breasts. He was waiting-- they were all waiting for the first signs of total surrender they were so certain would momentarily come. She groaned over and over to herself in open humiliation, her head falling back to the floor, rolling helplessly from side to side, while his tongue speared in and out of her involuntarily dilating cunt-lips. Random crazy pictures of John, the man she was supposed to marry, flickered through her mind as she heard the vile wet sucking noises Joel was making down between her open legs. How could she ever face her beloved John again after allowing her body to be subjected to this cruel inhuman enslavery. Stephanie had never felt so alone and helpless in her life, but she clung to the last vestige of her dignity, vowing that even if she were to be raped and humiliated, she would not allow herself to be aroused by these beastly ruffians.
The handsome boy's eyes remained locked on her face as he continued the torturing thrusts of his long slippery tongue into her vagina. He watched the helpless tears falling over her cheeks, feeling cruel satisfaction with his actions. So, she thought she was too good for them. Well, they'd show her, he laughed to himself, giving an extra hard thrust of his tongue. Before they were through, she would be crawling on her knees begging for more.
In spite of her terror and revulsion at the frightening offenses being perpetrated on her vulnerable genitals, Stephanie felt tiny wisps of pleasure begin to purl deep down in her belly, and her firm round breasts seemed swollen and sensitive as they jiggled sensuously from the buffeting her lower body was undergoing. Like an evil omen r indicating the greater debasement yet to come, she suddenly distinguished the gleaming smile of the black boy grinning down from the deep shadows above her. She clenched her eyes shut, fighting the whirlpools of sensation that were building in her loins. She knew she must not succumb as she had the other night to the instinctive betrayal of her body.
Suddenly, the ravaging lips lifted from her burning cunt and the young hands no longer pinioned her legs. Dear God, she had been delivered! But then, she saw the naked body of Ben Lewis, the tall black boy, standing at her feet. His well-developed muscles rippled like tiny fishes swimming under his dark skin as his gleaming eyes raked her body.
Smiling salaciously, he drawled, "Honky teacher, it's gonna be a real pleasure to do you in. What do they call it down South? Bein' ruined? I'd just call it pickin' your cherry. Anyway, baby, don't you worry. When I ruin you, you'll be better for it. Why, Miss Jackson," he chuckled menacingly, "just take it from one teacher to another, there's nothing worse than a virgin who don't know how to throw a good fuck."
Overcome with dread, Stephanie cringed back to the floor. It was too much for her mind to accept, and panic overcame her as she thrashed against Cally's restraining hands, prompting Joel to rush to the girl's assistance in holding the young teacher down. From somewhere among the grinning faces that seemed to fill her vision, Stephanie heard Joel's voice.
"Man, she's a wild one. You sure you can handle that, Ben?"
"Baby, by the time I'm finished with her, you'll know what wild really means. She'll be so wound up, you'll have to fight her off!"
Ben crouched down again between her splayed legs, leaning over to fasten his teeth harshly into the nipple of her heaving left tit. She groaned in pain, attempting to twist away from the sudden sharp torture, but her shoulders were held painfully to the floor. The boy's thick dark lips roamed wetly over the creamy mounds, causing a blissful shock that descended feather-like to her naked genitals.
"Oh, no, please! Don't anymore!" she pleaded through her tears of shame and humiliation.
Ben moved back, squatting between her slightly parted legs and she could feel his hands beginning to stretch open her thighs, working up to her unprotected pussy. Her body arched up as she felt his thumbs on the soft pink lips of her vagina, spreading them wider and wider apart. She shuddered as Ben's middle finger pushed between the soft protective folds of the young fleece-lined flesh surrounding her vagina, moaning pitifully as his finger wormed its way into the now wet and open passageway. He rolled his finger in tiny growing circles deeper and deeper between her legs.
The faint flickering of arousal she had felt before began to grow to a delicious electrical sensation, rippling gently in tiny waves along her back and down her legs. Tears of humiliation cascaded warmly down her face as she found herself reacting involuntarily to the maddening caresses of her open genitals. She was wet between her legs and found her hips suddenly squirming in mindless response to the light teasing of his fingers.
Stephanie gasped and caught her breath as the finger that had enlarged and stretched the now-lubricated walls of her vagina slipped wetly out with a moist sucking sound. She felt exhausted and could no longer find the strength to resist the vile monstrous fondling of her secret parts that she had worked so hard to save for John and their wedding night.
Suddenly, Ben was kneeling above her, his long heavy cock jutting over her trembling loins like a loaded black cannon ready to explode. The Negro leaned over and she felt the large bulbous head of the vulgar instrument moving up and down in the wide-spread slit of her vagina, parting the soft resilient pubic hair in preparation for the penile entry she knew was momentarily to come. She tried to close her legs, but the boy pushed them open, holding them cruelly apart with his knees.
"Hold her tight, you two! I just gotta get into that tight little pussy!" the black boy gasped, as he rested one hand over her shoulder to support himself and, with the other, grasped his huge pulsating cock.
Stephanie's head fell back to the floor, her eyes shut tightly against the lurid picture of the big Negro aiming his throbbing phallus toward her innocent, virginal passageway. The pole-like shaft was too large--she knew it would split her narrow slit asunder. She held her breath for what seemed to be an eternity, petrified in utter subjugation under him, as she felt the first soft electrical contact against the sensitive coral-lipped opening of her involuntarily flowing pussy.
"Oh, noooo! You're hurting me," she finally whimpered as the tip found the opening in the swollen lips of her cunt and gently thrust inside. It was a tentative gesture at first, but when he met his first resistance, he pushed forward harder. She felt as though her thighs were splitting apart from the unbearable pressure.
She was suddenly screaming incoherently as the lust-crazed black youth wormed the blood-gorged head in another tortured inch. She jerked open her eyes and saw the evil sadistic grin above her, Ben's teeth flashing whitely in the dim light of the closet. Good God, he was killing her and he was revelling in it! He was relishing the sight of her suffering beneath the cruelty of his slow, relentless penetration of her helplessly exposed cunt. He pressed forward again, flexing his buttocks with all his strength again the virginal resistance of her newly-violated cunt, until suddenly... it gave.
He came down heavily upon her, his weight flattening her breasts against her ribs. His long sleek cock rammed into her cunt with a roaring fury, pushing the soft moist flesh of her vaginal walls in helpless rippling waves before it. Finally with a loud groan, his pelvis slammed against hers, his balls slapping heavily into the upturned cheeks of her ass. His thick hard cock was sunk to its fullest depth in her quivering white belly as she felt the hardness of the smooth rubbery head pressed against her cervix. Her passage felt as if his plundering rod had ripped it into a thousand tiny shreds when he speared into her without mercy or thought of injury, battering and smashing all before it. Stephanie's quiet moans of pain and humiliation went unheeded and unheard. There was no reason to struggle or fight anymore --he had conquered her. There wasn't one tiny ridge of flesh on his penis that she could not feel as it pressed tight against the soft flesh walls of her cunt. The savage prick was enclosed in the moist warm sheath like a sword sliced cruelly into its piteous victim's belly. She lay still, afraid to move for fear of the additional pain it might bring.
Hot breath saturated her nostrils as Cally and Joel leaned closer over her trembling body. Their faces hung within inches of her exciting nakedness, watching as if hypnotized by the raping of their voluptuous young teacher by this big brute of a Negro who had skewered into her soft white flesh in fiendish delight. Then, she was dimly aware of Joel's clutching hands, squeezing and massaging her tender left breast, clawing at every part of her he could reach, while Cally's hand seemed to come out of nowhere to pinch at her full ripe right one, digging angrily and sadistically at first, then recoiling as if burned when Joel muttered some coarse comment to his girl friend.
To her surprise, the pain lessened as she felt her soft vaginal passage expanding further. Suddenly, Ben flexed his huge member inside her vagina, reviving the excruciating anguish to an even greater degree.
"Told ya' I'd stretch that tight lil' pussy of yours, baby," he tormented, flexing the punishing instrument with diabolical cunning.
"Aaaaaaggghhh!" she groaned, her face contorted in pain from the inhuman, agonizing impalement. Over her, the black boy grinned in lewd enjoyment of the agonized expression on her face.
"Good--ain't it?" he panted, leering over her.
The mammoth cock swelled again and her body felt on fire with the pain that racked her wide stretched body like bolts of flesh-searing lightning. "Oh, yes!" she cried, afraid he would hurt her more.
"Then, beg for it, bitch!" he spat out at her. "Say it! Say it--tell me to fuck you!"
"N-No, no... I just can't," she stumbled. She fought with all her strength and courage against this final humiliation. "Haven't you done enough?"
The Negro just grinned down at her in depraved satisfaction, and heaved his pelvis forward with all his strength, somehow burying his massive rod of flesh another half inch in her tortured vagina.
"Oh, fuck me! Fuck me!" she hissed, her resistance broken by the pain and helplessness of the situation. Her humiliation and degradation were complete. She would never be the same again. Suddenly nothing mattered but the monstrous swollen prick that had battered into her. She felt a strange thrill of masochistic pleasure as the pain slowly diminished and she felt the tight narrow passage widening slightly.
Ben began a slow teasing rotation of his rigid cock deep inside her womb. As though her body were severed from her mind, Stephanie's hips began swaying in involuntary reaction. Lewd flames of desire were coursing through her veins and she no longer bore the will to fight it. She was about to surrender totally to this black boy lying between her open legs, and the mere thought sent chills running along the base of her spine.
As Ben Lewis' rock-like member pistoned into her in savage assault, Stephanie's body began to twitch and writhe beneath him and she groaned incessantly up into the moistness of his mouth, shoving her tongue with a sudden complete abandon deep into his throat. Faint mewls of passionate servile acceptance rose from deep in her chest, her face twisted with newly-awakened passion, mouth working, neck muscles corded, a light sweat bursting out on her forehead under the now disheveled auburn hair.
The pain had faded and her legs on either side of the impaling staff of flesh were jerking and quivering through the air in uncontrolled abandon. Her tortured mind had blanked out all but thoughts of the indecently delicious sensations of lying beneath this strong black youth who had taken her to fuck against her will. Suddenly, she wanted only to give back to him what he was giving her.
She felt Ben slide his hands down over her torso and under the soft smooth globes of her moving buttocks, grasping them harshly, one in each hand as he began to move with greater frenzy. She flexed and unflexed the muscles beneath his fingers as he jerked her hips roughly upward. As she pulled back her thighs, the moist wet hole of her cunt flowered open to greedily welcome his cock to greater and greater depths.
"Put your hand on my cock!"
Stephanie suddenly heard Joel's harsh command through a haze of her own lust and degradation. Trancelike, she looked up to see the boy kneeling next to her head, his throbbing prick standing erect not six inches from her face. She was unable to speak, to loosen her grip from the obscene trap she was in as he knelt beside her.
"Take me in your hand, bitch!" he rasped again, his legs wide-spread before her cringing face, close to her ears. "No, don't touch it!" he recanted, a cruel sadistic idea lighting his eyes. "Suck me!" he hissed, pushing the pulsating member even closer toward her face. "Kiss my prick! Suck it, teacher, that's what I want!"
As the black youth's prick sawed in and out of her cunt with a slow hypnotizing rhythm, she gazed up at the glistening sex organ that hovered above her face. Then, without hesitation, without thought, she twisted her head away from the Negro panting over her and tasted a male member for the first time. Its distinctive tangy spice sent uncontrollable tremors through her.
Though her neck ached from the strain of the awkward position, she gradually explored Joel's cock with her tongue. She grazed its smooth, rubbery head with her teeth, tickling the tiny hole with the point of her tongue, then brought her mouth down to the sacs of sperm, the wiry hairs tickling her tongue as saliva dripped along the organ. She went wild with the erotic new sensations, thrilling to the unexpectedly pleasant taste of his cock and testicles.
The sweating Negro slaved above her, breaking into long deep strokes that tore his cock almost all the way from her clasping vagina, then thrust forward into her uplifted buttocks until she could hear the loud smacks of his balls slapping down against the vulnerable crevice of her anus. Without warning, she felt Ben's fingers crawling down the cleft of her ass toward the tiny target, the small puckered hole cradled defenselessly below, flirting teasingly with it like a small hard tongue. He pushed into it with a sudden quick movement, and, gasping at the new and unexpected pain, she felt the soft rubbery flesh yield before his attack. Though she moaned in painful protest, inadvertently freeing Joel's cock from her mouth, the black boy thrust harder, working his finger around inside, stretching the tight surrounding ring wider and wider. A second finger forced its way in, and the groans of painful subjugation gave way to softer moans of pleasure as her tiny rectum slowly became accustomed to the strange unnatural invasion. She wantonly screwed back on his probing fingers as the boy methodically probed the warm rubbery depths. Hopelessly impaled between his hard throbbing cock in her vagina and his fingers shoved in her asshole, she turned her head away from Joel's cock as the boy tried to push it once more into the warm moist cavern of her mouth.
"Hey, man, let's turn her over!" she heard Joel whisper in breathless impatience. "The bitch won't give me any!"
"Yeah, baby, that's wild," Ben said in lascivious approval. "Roll over, bitch--We're gonna give you a cock sandwich!"
Stephanie groaned in humiliation and frustration as Ben ceased in mid-stroke and lifted off of her.
"Turn over," he brutally commanded her, pushing the teacher's battered body over on her stomach. He grabbed impatiently at her hips and helped her to her knees. She rested panting for a moment on all fours, her buttocks waving high in the air and her face resting on the floor.
Ben mounted her rapidly from behind, cruelly shoving the long hard cock deep into her defenseless cuntal crevice, causing her to jump forward in surprise at the sudden lunge. Her face ran head on to Joel's waiting cock that rammed without warning into Stephanie's mouth. The boy kneeling before her on the floor grasped both sides of her head vise-like between his strong calloused hands and held it firmly. He sawed into her face viciously, and Stephanie gagged as he rammed the hard fleshy shaft half-way down her throat, the full length disappearing into her roundly ovaled lips almost to the hilt.
"Oh, noooo ..she groaned in disbelief as they buffeted her back and forth like a rag doll between them, using her helpless body like a helpless receptacle in which they would pump their lewd, heated sperm. But then, the very helplessness of her position came to her mind and the idea of being fucked brutally by two excited men aroused her, reviving the great hunger she had felt only moments before. She began to thrust her buttocks in tiny luxuriant circles, clasping with her cunt muscles at the hot fleshy pole burrowing into her from the back. All of a sudden, in spite of her puritanical upbringing, she wanted to have it all, to flood her insides with his hot sticky cum, until it splashed down onto her straining thighs. She sucked ravenously at the prick in her mouth, her cheeks hollowing and puffing with his cruel battering. She wanted it to explode into her mouth, to taste the warm, living sperm and feel it rolling down her throat. She was no longer human but a great mass of quivering sensual flesh, unable to think, only feel and feel more.
The young boy behind her grasped her hips, quickening his pace, hot and pulsating and deep, and the tormenting agony of pleasure caused her to push back against his heaving loins with all her strength. The plane of her loins was held high, wide open to the pile-driving thrusts of his pelvis as he smacked brutally into her. She was a bundle of loose nerve ends, jarred beyond recall by the exquisite sensation prickling between her legs, the overpoweringly magnificent pressure building within her body.
"Oh, oh, yesssss!" she chanted around the rampaging cock now locked tightly in her mouth, her face contorted to an unrecognizable mask of wildly abandoned passion.
She knew that this was it! It was more powerful than she had ever imagined and all these years she had been denying herself!
The youths grunted and groaned as they thrust into the two open orifices at each end of her helpless young body, driving their cocks as if to meet somewhere deep inside her belly. Stephanie's body drove on, her breasts quivering as her body was buffeted back and forth between the duel ravishment. There was nothing else in the world--no tomorrow, no yesterday, no John, no students-- nothing but this deep dark dream of lust and flesh, of belly slapping against head, pubic hair against pubic hair.
She groaned as if in anguish, squealing in intense passion. Her body arched and she clasped tightly to Joel's heaving muscular buttocks with one hand. Suddenly, with the rising storm of her own orgasm, she felt the cock fucking into her from behind swelling and throbbing as it began to spew its white hot load deep up into her clasping cunt. His young sperm-filled testicles banged into her exposed clitoris, causing her to tremble convulsively, jerking forward to bury the other cock in her madly sucking mouth. It too burst, filling her mouth with the pungent liquid, her cheeks expanded like a balloon to keep herself from gagging on the floods of sperm that jetted deep into her throat. Small droplets trickled from the corners of her mouth as she swallowed madly, fearful of losing even a drop of the precious fluid.
As Joel's deflated penis slipped from her still sucking lips, she screwed her buttocks back against the still squirting cock in her cunt, and with a scream from between clenched teeth, felt her own body explode like a thousand tiny firecrackers. Her strength was suddenly depleted and she collapsed on the floor as the limp prick slithered wetly from her overflowing pussy.
"Well, so much for integration... " she heard the other young girl snicker insolently from somewhere in the room. "Come on, you two, let's split." Through the fog of satiation and sheer physical and mental exhaustion, she saw dimly the boy's forms struggle up from the floor to stumble almost drunkenly around the cloakroom, searching for their clothes.
"Man," Joel muttered thickly from somewhere in the shadows, "the teach is a tiger. That was almost more than I could handle!"
"Shit, yeah!" she heard Ben agree, his voice blurring with his weariness. "I ain't never had nothing like that before! "
"Me, either. Christ, we should have brought some of the other guys to back us up. She's really something!"
"Come on!" Cally barked, her voice strident with irritation at the boy's enjoyment of their teacher's new-found talents.
As the voices and footsteps faded down the hallway, Stephanie lay on the floor, her mind glowing with pride at their parting comments. It had been beautiful, she mused, and she hoped it would happen again soon.
As the lustful thought passed through her consciousness, she realized what it was that she had been thinking. She had been brutally and mercilessly raped! Used by those boys as just a human receptacle for their filthy lust and now she was so depraved that she felt pride in the awful deed! She shuddered in revulsion at the idea, but the memory of her own debauchery was still too clear.
What had happened to her, she wondered. It was as if some animal, some demon, had entered her mind, forcing her to submit--to be enslaved by the lurid passion. Horror-struck at this deadly flaw in her character, she rose from the floor, forcing her battered body to action. She fumbled around the dark closet for what seemed like hours, finding one garment, then another that had been discarded during the youths' fiendish attack.
As she dressed slowly and carefully, trying to smooth the wrinkles in her clothing, she attempted also to repair the damage to her personality. Making herself think rationally, she calmly decided that it must be true. There must be another Stephanie--the tiger, as Joel had called her--and that "other Stephanie" must never be allowed to surface again. Her maidenhood was now lost beyond recall, but she could still salvage her self-respect. She vowed, then and there, to herself and to all that she loved, that never, never again, would she allow herself to be placed in another compromising situation that would allow her evil counterpart to regain control of her mind.
Satisfied that she had done all in her power to undo the irredeemable harm that had been wrought upon her defenseless body and mind, she efficiently fixed her hair and make-up and strode out of the now-deserted school building just as she had entered it, walking proudly and gracefully as befitted a true Southern lady.
CHAPTER SIX
"Well, I'm sorry too, darling," Stephanie said in response to John's contrite apology for his behavior during their encounter, weeks before, in her apartment. They were seated together over champagne at the annual Brunswick City country club party which had years before been designed to give local socialites an opportunity to look over the hirelings who filled public positions in the area. Stephanie and John had been there well over an hour, chatting, drinking, falling in love all over again. The immense ballroom was gaily decorated and lent an air of romance to their so-far happy date. She had been nervously excited over the call John had made to ask her if he might accompany her to the ball. She had accepted readily as her new understanding of his strong masculine sex drive was now clearer in her mind. It was not that she condoned his lust, but simply that her own experience in the class cloakroom, when something within her had taken control of her senses, made her slightly more sympathetic toward his carnal drive to possess her.
"Let's dance, shall we, darling?" She smiled charmingly at her fiance, aware that the candlelight decor of the ballroom made her look even more beautiful than usual. She had dressed for the occasion with special care, choosing an ivory satin gown of classical design that fell in long flowing lines from her shoulders, revealing in the low V-neckline the deep exciting cleavage between her ripe firm breasts. The couple had been drinking glass after glass of champagne since their arrival at the affair, and now she felt lovely and exciting, and quite giddy, glowing blissfully under John's increasingly bold gaze.
Suddenly aware of the slight alcoholic fuzziness that was befogging her brain, she decided she wanted an opportunity to move around, clear her head and regain her customary absolute control of her situation. She realized that it was dangerously unlike herself to be so sensually enjoying John's hot stares, and so, before he began to demand more substantial pleasures than just the sight of her might offer him, she rose to lead him firmly out to the dance floor.
Since that humiliating experience in the cloakroom, she had stayed firmly by her commitment to herself, never allowing a situation to develop from which she could not extricate herself immediately if necessary. This evening with John would be her first real test and she planned on making no exceptions, no matter how romantic and courteous he might prove to be. His gentlemanly behavior in her apartment this evening and here at the ball had touched her heart, and she was once again sure that she loved him--but she was also prepared to handle his masculine passions if they again took control, suppressing his finer instincts.
As the couple glided among the other dancers to the strains of a graceful Viennese waltz, Stephanie felt at home for the first time since she had left the South to come to Brunswick City. Gone were the anxieties caused by her classroom problems and the daily disappointments of her life in the cold-hearted industrial metropolis faded to mere unpleasant memories as one gentleman after another cut in to dance with the lovely young woman who was quickly becoming the hit of the evening. At last, after an exhilarating round of dances, Stephanie begged to be excused from her present dancing partner, returning breathless, but beaming, to her fiance who leaned against the wall near the punchbowl, glowering his displeasure with the social success Stephanie was enjoying.
"Pardon me, Miss America," he quipped sarcastically, "but I thought this was to be our evening together--the great romantic reunion, you know. I certainly hope the generous portion of your time that you gave me earlier didn't cut into your schedule too much. After all, I'm only the man who brought you here... your fiance, remember?"
Stephanie sighed in exasperated annoyance. John had obviously used her absence as an opportunity to imbibe quite heavily from the unattended punch bowl, and now she was afraid he was about to start some sort of absurd jealous scene.
"Sweetheart, I'm afraid I really must get away from all this for a moment or two," she whispered sweetly, hoping to avoid his wrath by leaving him alone for a few minutes, so he could regain his former good humor. "Do you know where I can find a powder room where I can rest and freshen up a bit?" Lowering her voice to a husky murmur, she added, "Darling, this is our evening, and I want to be beautiful--for you! " At least partially mollified, John roused himself from his near-stupor and waved vaguely in the direction of a narrow doorway in the far wall of the room, mumbling a complicated set of directions which Stephanie tried desperately to memorize though his alcoholic breath was making her slightly nauseous. At last, to avoid asking him for a repetition, she made her way across the crowded dance floor, trusting to her common sense and the half-heard directions to lead her to her destination.
Once inside the narrow doorway, she found herself in a long, dimly-lit corridor with occasional locked doors on either side. She remembered that both John and his family had been members of the country club for many years, so she tried to follow his instructions, turning several corners and hoping her sense of direction would lead her back to the ballroom once she had found the powder room. John had mentioned to her that the clubhouse had originally been an old mansion, the huge country home of one of Brunswick City's industrial barons in the nineteenth century, and now she stared in wonder at the intricately carved panelling that lined the hallways and cherubic faces that peered down from over each doorway. Though she finally realized that she was hopelessly lost, she did not ask for assistance from the men that passed by her occasionally, striding hurriedly as if late for an important appointment. She recognized that she was in a potentially compromising situation, and she wanted to give none of these men the opportunity to take advantage of her, a young girl alone in these murky back hallways. So, she walked, with eyes averted, past every man who came her way, hoping that luck would take her to the well-hidden powder room.
Just as she had decided to turn back to return to the dance, the corridor took a sharp turn and she found she had reached a dead end. She faced a closed door marked with a small bronze plate, and though she could not read the lettering on the little sign in the faint illumination of the hallway, her heart leapt in relief. This must be the powder room, she thought, and quietly entered the room, shutting the door behind her.
As Stephanie surveyed the large room in which she found herself, she realized she had made a dreadful mistake. With eyes already accustomed to the near-darkness, she could see that the area was filled with smoking men seated in neat rows of folding chairs, avidly viewing some movie being projected on the wall to her left. Stephanie's first thought was that the men must belong to a businessmen's organization, gathered to watch some sort of educational film concerning their professional interests. Her own father had often met with his local merchants' association at the area's most exclusive country club where he was a member.
The screen now showed a young attractive housewife going about her domestic duties, clearing dishes from the table, making the bed, sweeping. Of course, Stephanie thought, this is probably a picture on door-to-door salesmanship--how a housewife is approached in her own home.
The weariness she had felt on the dance floor suddenly hit Stephanie again and she decided to sit down and watch the movie for a couple of minutes if the businessmen did not object.
"Would anyone mind if I stayed here and watched for a moment or two? I'm very interested," Stephanie inquired of a man sitting in the last row of chairs. She whispered quietly, hoping not to disturb the others who were apparently engrossed in the silent film.
The plump, well-dressed man looked up in surprise, then grinned warmly, motioning casually to the empty chair beside him. Stephanie gratefully seated herself, closing her eyes to fight off the waves of sleepiness that suddenly engulfed her mind. She silently chided herself for drinking too much champagne, then, aware of the chubby man's eyes upon her, she gazed once more at the screen on the far wall. The sight that met her eyes caused her to gasp in shock, but the sound was unheard over the sudden burst of raucous laughter from the men around her. Two brawny masked men were climbing through an open window in the home of the lovely young woman in the film! Stephanie's heart went out to the poor housewife who was still calmly dusting a piece of furniture not ten feet from the criminals' point of entrance. Stephanie remembered how she too had been tricked in her own classroom. How could these man laugh at such a thing?
Stephanie decided to leave the company of these tasteless men, and, with her eyes still on the screen, she searched around her seat for her tiny evening purse, but before she could find it, the activities in the film absorbed her entire attention and she forgot everything else but what was being projected on the wall before her. There, before her eyes, the two men crept up behind the innocent housewife and grabbed her shoulders. One man held the woman tightly while the other began to rip at her clothing, slowly tearing off one garment after another until the struggling young wife stood naked and defenseless under the lewd gaze of the masked men. The taller of the two ruffians stood before the unfortunate woman, running his black-gloved hands over the soft curves of her exposed body.
As Stephanie watched the scene in hypnotized horror, she began to forget about the presence of the others in the room. She recalled her own terrifying experience in the school, and felt sympathetic, really at one with the helpless housewife on the screen before her. Somehow, she had the sensation that she too was being projected in a black and white image on the far wall and she could feel each touch of those brutal gloved hands. Stephanie felt her nipples tighten to an almost painful tension as the tall, leering man on the screen grasped and tugged cruelly at the young wife's quivering breasts. Deep in her belly, Stephanie felt a feverish pressure mounting as the film showed the man thrusting his leather-clad hand deep between the woman's trembling thighs.
Sitting in the darkened room and staring as if mesmerized at the projection, Stephanie noticed, as though she were watching herself from a great distance, that the man beside her had put out his cigarette and reached over, inserting his pudgy hand in the soft folds of her dress to grab at her own soft yielding flesh, pulling and kneading at her large, resilient breasts. Something told her that she should run, get out of the room filled with silent, heavily-breathing men, but she felt paralyzed, rooted to her chair, and she watched the screen in front of her, completely involved in the sadistic attack on the pretty young housewife.
The two masked men in the movie had lifted the woman from her feet and carried her to a near-by sofa, setting her down in a half-reclining position. The shorter man again held her, pinning her shoulders back against the cushion, while the other knelt on the floor in front of their victim, leering obscenely as he forced open her legs and pushed them up until her knees were pressed helplessly up over her shoulders. The housewife rolled her head from side to side, protesting silently in the soundless film, but the masked villain kneeling before her just gazed lasciviously at her cunt as it was presented, exposed and vulnerable, to his burning eyes. With fiendish deliberateness, he slowly bent down to place his lips on the naked throbbing hair-lined opening of the married woman's defenselessly spread pussy.
"Oh, noooooo... " Stephanie groaned under her breath as the man beside her used his free hand to draw up the long skirt of her gown, then worked his arm up between her thighs until the searching fingertips rested hotly against the already moistened crotchband of her thin nylon panties. Stephanie's mind tumbled back to that horrible afternoon in the cloakroom when she too had been taken by force without thought for her wishes or wellbeing, subjugated to the demands of three young delinquents who had even laughed as they stole her virginity and virtue. The similarities between her own ravishment and that of the young woman on the screen were too great for Stephanie to ignore, and she suffered each debasement in unison with the young wife, and then grew slowly excited as the unprotected woman in the film ceased her struggles against the cruel onslaught of the masked man's tongue as it began to flick in and out of her vagina. Forgotten was Stephanie's vow to never lose control again. A strange pleasure fired her loins as she shared in the depraved conquest of the woman in the film. A coaxing voice rose from the depths of her subconscious whispering again and again that she had no choice but to submit, and the idea filled her with a lustful longing she had known only once before--that afternoon with Ben and Joel.
The man beside her had dropped to his knees and was gently tugging at the light fabric of Stephanie's panties. She lifted her hips a little as he pulled the thin garment down over her legs, then, with a resigned acceptance of her fate, she did not struggle as the man pried her legs apart and buried his chubby face under the folds of her satin gown, disappearing from her consciousness until she felt the wet, slippery spear of his tongue sliding up and down the exposed crevice between her thighs, running the taut point from the hard bud of her clitoris down to the tiny wrinkled mouth of her anus, then back again in long smooth strokes.
Stephanie's eyes were glued to the movie screen and she trembled as one of the masked men thrust two fingers brutally into the housewife's upturned vagina, and the other dampened his forefinger into her tightly clenched ass-hole. Stephanie longed to somehow communicate with the distressed young woman in the film--to tell her that her humiliation was shared by another woman... an innocent young Southern girl who also knew what it meant to be violated and debased, but instead, she silently endured as several other men rose from near-by seats to share in the sensual corruption of her body. She leaned back in the wooden chair, the strange masochistic thrills of pleasure forcing her to new levels of excitement as three or four --she did not even know how many--men touched and fondled her breasts, pulled her legs even further apart so others could touch and penetrate her helpless cunt. Gradually, the anonymous hands pulled her down to the thickly-carpeted floor, gently arranging her body between the rows of chairs. She felt the hot breath from unknown mouths blasting down on her smooth white skin as some hands pulled at her large firm breasts, drawing them out of the confinement of her gown to suck and nibble at the pale brown tips. Other hands parted the softness of her vagina, preparing for the attack of the warm tongue that quivered lightly over the smooth, moist flesh exposed in the narrow slit, licking at the hard little clitoris cradled just above the entrance to her cunt. The tongue became more and more familiar with the erogenous zones of her loins and Stephanie's breathing increased in intensity.
"Oh, yesss... yessss," she begged, surprised at the desperately pleading tone of her own voice. Her groans and twisting increased until the tiny spear thrust forward, burrowing lizard-like into the deep wet opening of her pussy. A strange animal cry rose from her throat and she began a slow, set grinding of her hips against the face that breathed hotly into her crotch. Her hands twined in the man's hair, pulling the head closer as if to bury it all in her steaming cunt. Her loins ached with insatiable need and she opened her eyes to see seemingly dozens of middle-aged men hovering over her prostrate body. They too had forgotten about the movie and had come to the back of the room to watch a more exciting spectacle.
Though she realized the degradation of her position, Stephanie did not care. She was drowning in the throes of drunkenness and unfulfilled passion, and, looking up at the wide-eyed spectators, she moaned piteously, "Please... please... " She paused, then forced the lewd words from her throat as if in unwilling homage to some mysterious power. "Yes, please... fuck me!"
As her obscene request rang through the heavy silence, the man who had been greedily sucking between her legs was torn away from his task, and the smoky light of the room was blotted out as a massive dark form leaned over her body. Warm lips crushed brutally down on her moist mouth, and Stephanie sucked hungrily at the tongue that pushed through her teeth. She reached down between her body and the unknown man's to tentatively touch the great lump that pressed out against his trouser crotch, but her hand jerked back at the searing electrical contact. Her haze of lust- driven need lifted for a moment and she realized at last the horrible debasing things that were happening to her.
Groaning in agonized humiliation, she thrashed frantically to free herself from the stranger whose weight pinned her where she lay. The nameless hands around her became more insistent, as though knowing her sudden change of heart, and strong fingers pushed her dress higher up on her body and pulled her thighs further apart and back until she was sure her pelvis would split from the tortuous position. The unknown man above her shifted position a little and Stephanie became aware of a stiff rod of warm throbbing flesh lunging against the softness of her inner thigh.
"No... no... noooo... " she breathed in misery and despair, but her faint protests were lost in the sounds of panting gasps from the men above her. She felt as though she were in a dream surrounded by lewd masculine specters, each determined to have his way with her helpless form. The odors of cigar smoke and sweat pressed down on Stephanie like an invisible musty cloak. Though she fought for rationality, she found herself sinking in the tide of strange new sensations that was enveloping her mind.
The man moved forward, gently parting her soft auburn pubic hair with the rigidity of the throbbing head of his cock. Stephanie felt the warm soft folds of the ragged edges of her cunt close wetly over the rounded tip. Suddenly the man surged forward, gasping aloud as the tight hot walls of Stephanie's contracting pussy slipping smoothly over the rock-hard length of the pulsing cock. Her body trembled and shook before the sudden assault, the stranger's carressive torture of her defenseless body. The shame and humiliation of her position swept over her as she felt her thighs and buttocks being held wide apart by unknown hands as the thick instrument was tunneling into her mercilessly and a loud low gasp rippled through the ranks of the faceless, nameless men who stood staring above her.
She moaned suddenly, not from the pain, for there was none of the agonizing torture she had expected. Instead, she was moist and open, lubricated by the slippery secretions that had flowed from her vagina during the tantalizing ministrations of another stranger's tongue. She whimpered quietly in the horrible and degrading realization that she was hopelessly trapped and at the mercy of total strangers, a hard rampaging cock pummeling into her while others' hands pinched and teased at her every sexual part. Her cunt felt battered and stretched as though she were being impaled by some great savage ape, a huge beast that knew nothing of her fear and horror but kept driving desperately into her to satisfy his own bestial craving. The man thrust forward again--the relentless monster sliding in another inch.
Hot stale breath coursed over her quivering form as the men crowded closer. Their dark silhouettes hung over her straining nudity, watching as if mesmerized by the young innocent beauty being fucked and skewered by one of them. Stephanie was barely cognizant of hands tearing at her breasts from the panting crowd. The room had become a giant vulture with hundreds of greedy talons swooping down to grasp and pull at her naked flesh.
The man above her lay still, letting the gasping girl beneath him adjust to the presence of his throbbing member in her white soft belly. Then, without warning, the man began a painful sawing movement in and out of her moist stretched cunt, thrusting forward brutally and battering her trembling body back against the carpet. A weird sensation of joy thrilled through her helpless body, the outrageous subjugation bringing the familiar tingling masochistic pleasure pounding through her. Her hips began rotating in an involuntary rhythm with the increasing speed of the prick fucking into her. A thousand helpful hands rubbed lewdly over the smooth globes of her buttocks and pulled cruelly at the fleshy hair-covered lips surrounding the rampaging cock. One fingertip stroked up and down from her swollen cunt lips to her anus, flicking teasingly at the tiny puckered hole like another tongue. She flinched as it suddenly pressed against the tight surrounding nether-ring of her back passage, then popped through, digging methodically into the soft rubbery flesh inside. It wiggled inside her, expanding the tight little opening until the whole finger was buried deep in the narrow throbbing passageway. The finger sunk into her ass joined the slowly pistoning cock in a harmonious rhythm that forced groans of pain and pleasure in unwilling cadence to their simultaneous tempo.
"Ohhh, yes, fuck me... Oh shit yes! Fuck me like this!" she cried, squirming her body obscenely to reach and draw sensation from each of the hands and fingers that were crawling like a swarm of tiny insects over her heaving flesh. She opened her eyes and saw cocks everywhere. The watching men had pulled them out and were stroking them over her in time to youthful and middle-aged flesh smacking together before them. Everywhere her eyes rested she could see another man fingering his sex organ in delicious anticipation of his chance to get at her lovely young body. She was a prisoner of them all--and all the time while the thick pole drove into her, growing with each lurid thrust like a great bulging muscle, the finger plunged into her rectum like another cock. And she was a helpless captive, trapped in the beautiful rape of her cunt and anus, buffeted between them like a helpless mannequin.
She cried out in reckless wantonness as she rotated her smooth rounded buttocks faster and faster in a frantic attempt to match the increasing speed of the vulgar shafts of flesh and finger that thundered into her like leaping jackhammers. Reaching upward, she grasped two of the other men's cocks and began a rhythmic savage stroking in time with the two instruments fucking in dual ravishment of her genitals, as she felt the fleshy weapon pumping into her unresisting cunt expanding almost to the exploding point.
"No! No! Wait... I'm not ready yet!" she sobbed in maniacal frustration, but it was too late and the stranger began jetting gushes of hot white cum deep in her belly as she ground her naked crotch against his pelvis in unfulfilled passion. Defeating her own purpose, the biting grip of her churning pussy milked the last drops from the spewing prick and the final spastic release of sperm dribbled uselessly into her dilated womb.
The middle-aged man rolled exhausted and empty from her still thrashing body, assisted by seemingly thousands of other men, all grappling eagerly to take his place. Thin viscous strands of milky fluid trailed from his cock over her leg to the carpeted floor where he had collapsed, spent and panting.
Stephanie's hips pushed upward like a starving animal to receive the rigid member of the next man, a short pudgy man who could have been the one who sat next to her while she had watched the movie such a long time ago. Now his trousers had fallen low, hanging around his fat thighs and he slammed his fiery organ into her hot hungry pussy, needing no foreplay to spur him on. She bucked wildly against him, struggling for the climax she had been so viciously denied when the first man had callously deserted her.
"Christ! Look how that little slut fucks! Ram it in, boy!" she heard one of the unknown men exclaim in an excited undertone, the sound only faintly penetrating her lust-drugged mind.
Trembles of shameless pleasure rippled through her raw-nerved body at the obscene insulting comment. She fucked insanely with the faceless man... until, it enveloped her suddenly like a great tidal wave of searing, indescribable passion, pounding violently through her demoniacally aroused body like a thrillingly powerful electric current, splitting her nerve ends like over-loaded wires. The fat man's cock spat semen into her like a living machine gun and the cocks in her hands began to spew forth long spurts of sticky white fluid down her arms and onto her pale quivering breasts. Long strings of the sticky white cum clung to her smooth skin as she saw other cocks spurting at her from all sides. She lay still for a moment, lewdly enjoying her role as the obscene target for the strangers' lust, punishing and debasing herself in bestial arousal, the pungent smell almost choking her as her own orgiastic fluids gushed in boiling torrents from between her legs.
Another mounted her and yet another spurred to action by her desperate supplications for more and more humiliation. She squirmed wetly on her back, wallowing in the lewd sperm as she was convulsed in maniacal arousal under one pistoning shaft after another. It seemed to go on and on for hours. The crowds of panting spectators seemed to get thicker and thicker, bending over her lunging body until she could barely get air to breathe.
Suddenly, strong arms lifted her to her feet and a whisper passed through the ranks of faceless men.
"Joe said there are some women coming back here and they look like they're on the warpath. Did anyone tell his wife where we'd be?"
Sharp angry voices followed the question.
"I always tell my wife where I am... "
"Oh, shit, where can we hide her?"
"Hide her--hell! We've got to get her out of here!"
Another pair of arms lifted her gently and carried her away from the furious whispers. As her unknown rescuer lifted her out of the crowd, she could hear the discussion continuing in the darkness.
"Hey! Wait! I was next!"
"Shut up! Next time you'll know to get her phone number... a hot little tramp like that probably doesn't charge much for a quickie. That's about as long as you'd last in that tight little pussy!"
Stephanie cringed at the harsh cold laughter that followed the crude statement, but the man who carried her just whispered kindly, "Don't let them upset you, dear. I know you're no ordinary whore. A high-class call-girl like you shouldn't be in a situation like this." He patted her shoulder consolingly, then informed her of his plan. "I'll help you out the window. We're on the ground floor and there's grass below." The man paused, then added, "By the way, dear... what is your number?"
The insulting suggestion that she was a prostitute broke her control and hot tears of humiliation coursed down Stephanie's cheeks. Though the man whispered apologies, she just shook her head in blind misery and, finally, with a disappointed shrug, he" placed her gently outside the window on the dewy lawn below. Nearly hysterical with the now-conscious knowledge of her reprehensible conduct, Stephanie quickly scrambled to her feet and ran like a frightened child across the grounds toward the front of the club house. Soon out of breath, she stumbled to a halt, then collapsed on the ground.
In a daze of shame and disbelief, she realized what she had done and. slowly tried to gather her thoughts into some kind of rational pattern. My God, what is happening to me? she wondered as remembrances of the orgy only moments before flashed like painful whiplashes through her mind. How could such a debasing and vulgar occurrence have happened again? She searched her conscience for some reason to explain the strange and terrifying passion that had taken hold of her mind in that murky room, twisting her until nothing remained of the innocent girl she truly believed she was, until there was only an all- powerful animal instinct that drove her to subjugate herself to the obscene wishes of those men she didn't even know.
Her head bowed and she sobbed out her fear of this unknown force that changed the well-bred Stephanie into a cheap slut. No, she laughed bitterly to herself--no cheap slut, but a high-class call girl. Her humor was short-lived, however, and she soon fell to weeping again in discouragement at breaking her solemn oath to stay out of such dangerous situations. And what--what could she ever tell John? How could she explain to him what she could not understand herself? There must be some way to tell him that she was not a virgin without letting him know the awful truth about the dark sexual forces that dwelled within her.
Forcing her brain to function logically, Stephanie rose from where she still sat huddled on the cold ground and walked slowly across the green to where the bright lights from inside the ballroom spilled out through the windows and doors to illuminate the canopied entranceway. As she approached her destination, the young woman carefully smoothed her rumpled hair and picked off the damp leaves that had clung to her when she had fallen in the grass, using them to wipe away the streaks of sperm that had dried on her face and breasts. As a last touch, she knelt down on the dew-soaked lawn, smearing dirt and grass over the skirt of her satin gown, hoping with all her might that John would believe her story.
"Would you please go inside and find a Mr. John Balfour. Tell him that a Miss Stephanie Jackson is waiting for him," she asked of a liveried doorman who stood before the doorway leading into the ballroom. Laughing apologetically, she added, "Please tell him to bring my wrap. As you can see, I've had a slight accident."
Aghast at the sudden appearance of the pale, rumpled girl, the man just nodded, then rushed into the ballroom, returning a few moments later with John close behind.
"Christ, Stephanie! What happened to you? I've been worried sick. We searched the entire building and couldn't find you anywhere." John's tone of annoyance gradually changed to one of concern as he spoke. His eyes travelled quickly over her ruined dress and rested on her face, where tears brimmed pathetically in her eyes. "Oh, baby, are you all right? What happened to you?"
As John took a step toward her, Stephanie moved back to lean against a light post. "Please, darling, first give me my cloak. I want to go home --then I'll tell you what happened." ST e reached out for her evening wrap, taking it from John's hands before he could help her put it on.
Stephanie's spirits rose a little as she accomplished the first stage of her plan to deceive John. So far, I'm all right, she thought. Her fiance had not seen the deep streaks of cum that trailed across the front and sides of her dress, and now she was completely covered by the long velvet cloak that hid the tell-tale signs of her evening of debauchery. She only hoped she had the nerve to carry through the rest of her idea.
In the short drive from the country club to her apartment house, Stephanie told John the story she had made up just before she spoke to the doorman.
"So, dear, when I couldn't find the powder room, I decided to take a walk in the fresh air to clear the champagne bubbles from my head." Her laughter tinkled merrily in the car as she spoke. "Well, I'm afraid I started thinking and walked too far. Yes," she said thoughtfully as another addition to the tale came to her mind, "I must have gotten lost on the golf course... Anyway, just as I realized that I was lost, I slipped on the wet grass and slid down a little hill. I was quite dazed and I'm afraid my dress is ruined, but I followed the lights back to the club house... and here I am!"
She laughed again, but John still wore a thoughtfully worried expression. Finally, after a long pause, he asked, "Are you sure you're not hurt? I really am worried about you. You were gone almost an hour."
Stephanie was astonished at his words. An hour! It was unimaginable that she had willingly allowed her body to be violated by uncountable numbers of strange men--all in the space of less than an hour. Her breasts still tingled at the thought of all those unknown men touching her, spreading open her legs to plunge their thick, hard cocks deep into her belly. Then, she remembered where she was now, with John, her fiance, and she reminded herself that she could not, must not think of the experience ever again. That was all in the past, something she should try not to remember or even believe had happened--or she would lose her sanity and possibly everything she believed in.
"An hour! Really?" she exclaimed. "Why, it didn't seem like more than ten minutes." Stephanie forced herself to smile brightly as she lied, though her body ached from the brutal mauling she had undergone. "As soon as we're home, I'm going to run right in and shower, if you don't mind waiting. Then, we can just relax in the apartment for a couple of hours."
"Of course, I don't mind the wait, but are you sure you want to take a shower with me in the apartment?" John asked slowly, a tinge of surprise evident in his voice. "After our last experience, I wouldn't blame you if you were a little leery of the idea."
"Don't be silly, darling," Stephanie smiled intimately at him. "I'm going to have to learn to trust you sooner or later. Besides, as I said, I did quite a bit of thinking on my stroll. I think I may have been a little wrong-headed about some of my ideas, but now I'm going to make a valiant effort to correct all my unfairness to you."
"Oh? Such as what?" he asked, obviously fascinated with the unexpected turn of the conversation.
"Well, let's discuss it later," she suddenly evaded, realizing their talk was coming much to close to the heart of her plan. "You see, it's a rather radical change for me, and I... well, I have to consider how to broach the subject gracefully."
John stared fixedly at Stephanie for a few moments, as if attempting to see past the serene facade of her beautiful face. At last with a small strange smile, like a scientist whose experimental animal had deviated slightly from expected behavior, he remarked quietly, "Perhaps you're right--I really think we do need a long talk to find out just where we stand with each other. After what has happened tonight, I was beginning to wonder if you were the same girl I fell in love with. Sometimes a great shock is needed to bring things back into perspective."
She instinctively whirled around in the seat to face him, a new wave of guilt washing over her as she tried to fathom the meaning of his words. But he couldn't know what had happened in that dark, smoky room. The one thing she was certain of was that all of those men had been middle-aged. Not one of those shadowy silhouettes had looked anything like John's trim young figure.
Afraid to pursue the matter any further, Stephanie sat silently for the rest of the trip home.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Stephanie tried to hurry as she showered. As soon as John had opened the door to her apartment, she had rushed into the bathroom, carefully locking the door behind her. Stripping herself of the stained and wrinkled clothes, she had called to her waiting fiance through the bathroom door, telling him which cabinet held her small bottle of brandy and the crystal glasses she had brought with her from her home in the South. Then, she had buried the filthy garments in the bottom of her clothes hamper and stepped into the shower with a sigh of relief. Working quickly and carefully, she scrubbed away every trace of the hour of debauchery, finding to her delight, that, except for a few small bruises, she had not been marked by the sweating hands that had roamed over every available part of her such a short time ago.
Stephanie's mind was working just as speedily and efficiently as her hands. As she washed her body, she concentrated mentally on the alternatives she could now consider. She decided that it would be unwise to continue telling John that she was a virgin. He would certainly find out differently on their wedding night, but, worse, he might discover the truth under other circumstances. She was terribly afraid that this horrible animal instinct that had overcome her twice already might once again rise up if John tried, as usual, to seduce her. His attempts to get her into bed had practically become a ritual part of their relationship, and she feared she could no longer control herself. Yes, the plan she had already developed would still be the best one. Tonight, she would allow him to charm her into the bedroom, and when it was all over, she would tell him a heart-breaking story about how she had been raped when she was too young and innocent to understand what had happened, but that she had been afraid of men ever since. It was the only way out of the terrible situation, and, of course, he would want to marry her right away. When she stopped teaching to keep house for him, there would be no more temptation or opportunity for this bestial urge to gain control of her again.
As she toweled the water from her body, Stephanie tried to gather all her courage to carry the deception through. After all, she reasoned, her main objective was really to be as kind as possible to John. He loved her with all his heart, and she knew they would be happy once they were married. It was necessary to play this one small trick on him to insure their happiness forever.
"John, do you mind if I don't dress?"
The young man looked up from where he sat on the long couch, sipping at his brandy, to see Stephanie step into the living room, dressed in a long robe of a soft, clinging material that showed clearly she had worn nothing beneath it. Every sensuous detail of her nakedness was excitingly apparent, and John could feel his blood pressure rising hotly as he stared fascinated by the intoxicating spectacle before him.
"John?" she repeated. "Are you all right? I didn't mean to shock you. If you like, I'll go put something else on."
"Don't you dare!" he replied, an amused tone in his voice. "What is this--your idea of a birthday present?"
"Why, no... Isn't your birthday in April?" she asked, her eyes wide in innocence. "I just didn't want to take the time to get dressed again."
As she walked across the room toward him, Stephanie coquettishly tossed her long, curling auburn hair over her shoulder, exposing to plain view the soft smooth orbs of her breasts, the small hard nipples thrusting out like sharp points against the filmy material. With lowered eyes, she surreptitiously gauged the effect that her entrance was making on John, hoping he would be too aroused to notice when she gave in to his advances more easily than usual. To her dismay, he still had that same strange detached smile he had worn in the car. What could be wrong with him? she wondered.
"Well, darling, it must have been quite a productive thinking session you had during your little jaunt across the golf course," John commented, boldly scrutinizing Stephanie's body as she seated herself on the other end of the couch. "I don't believe I've ever seen you quite so uninhibited. But, then," he added, leaning back on the arm of the sofa, "I haven't seen too much of you lately... Apparently, I've been missing out on all the fun!"
"What... what do you mean, dear?" She smiled unsteadily, uncertain if he was joking or really knew of the debasing experiences she had suffered. "Why, I haven't even had a date since I saw you last."
"Really? Did your intense loneliness for me drive you to this?" John asked, gesturing toward her flimsy apparel.
Stephanie stared at him, aghast. Why would he act this way when she had worn the sexy, revealing garment especially to please him? Could he still be mad about her dancing with all the other men at the country club?
"I just thought you would like it, dear," she pouted. "Don't tell me you're still holding a grudge just because a lot of men at the ball wanted to dance with me. As a lady, I just couldn't turn them down."
"Since when are you so big-hearted, Stephie?" He bent over to place his drink on the floor, and when he arose, she could see his face had contorted into an ugly sneer. "You not only danced with every one of them, but you managed to find the ones playing hooky in the back room, too!"
"J-John, what do you mean? I told you I just took a walk!" she sputtered. Deep fear gripped her body as she realized that he must know of the debauched hour she had spent with the old men in the back room of the club house. "Look, dear, if I wore this... this robe for you, you know that I trust you. In return, you must believe me."
"Quite the contrary, darling," John whispered in a low, angry voice. "I'm afraid it's your word against my father's. He didn't recognize you in the dark, but the dear old man came rushing out to share his good fortune with me--after he had his turn, of course."
"I still don't understand you, John," Stephanie said, her tone changing to one of near-pleading. "You said your father didn't know this girl, whoever she was. How can you accuse me of some unmentionable act on such flimsy evidence?"
"My dear, I'm afraid you've been caught up by your most damnable fault, your all-important vanity. That lovely white satin dress, the one you sent all the way to Atlanta for, was a great hit tonight. As you had planned, not another woman had anything like it--except the busy little lady who visited the older crowd while they took time off from the rigors of the dance floor." He paused a moment to rummage in the pocket of his dinner jacket. "By the way, my little virgin, is this yours?" John held out her tiny beaded evening purse. "It was lying on the floor, under some folding chairs."
"You don't understand," Stephanie moaned, grasping at any straw. "I was raped. They just attacked me like animals."
"My dear, you forget. There was a witness," John hissed through clenched teeth. "To tell the truth, I was prepared to believe that you might have been raped, or at least seduced by the champagne or the stag movie. Perhaps," he sneered, "perhaps, you were. But as you sit here before me in your enticing little negligee, you don't seem besieged with guilt. In fact," he added with an ugly smile, "you are apparently not satisfied with the evening's numerous conquests, but feel it necessary to add my name to the lengthy list."
Stephanie sat silent in the wake of his cruel speech. What could she say to abate his anger? John would never understand that she had nothing to do with what happened tonight, that some evil force had just taken control of her, forced her to act as a willing participant in lewd activities that normally would sicken her. Suddenly, too weary to argue with him, she dejectedly rose from the couch. "All right, John," she said quietly, trying to regain her shattered dignity. "Please, go now. I'm tired, too tired to talk anymore."
"Yes," he agreed, rising quickly. "I imagine you are." John stepped to where she stood and roughly grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly as his voice rose in anger. "What I cannot understand is why you held me off all these months. Did you think that was the only way to keep me interested?" Suddenly, his voice lowered in defeated acceptance. "You were wrong, Stephanie, it wasn't the thrill of the chase. I just thought you would make a good wife." Laughing harshly, he concluded, "you would, too, for about ten men!"
Stephanie cringed away from his words, but they seemed to echo through her small apartment. More than anything else, she loved him now, knew at last that she could trust him. The realization that he was walking out of her life hit her like a blow. If only she had not been so prudish...
"John, before you leave, may I have one last kiss... to remember you by?"
"Oh, Christ!" he spat out. "Have you no principles at all? How do you manage to remember the rest of them? By the touch of their hands? The sizes of their cocks in the dark? Here," he barked, brutally ripping the gauzy robe from her body. "Remember me by this!" He grabbed the soft ivory mound of one of her breasts and forced her backward onto the couch. "And this!" Opening his trousers, John pulled out his long, hard penis. Stephanie could see the thick blue veins that ran in a pulsing network along the sides of the rigid organ and the purple blood-gorged head that seemed to swell as she stared.
"N-no, John... please!"
"Oh, but you've seen this before, haven't you?" John continued to speak in a harsh, rasping voice, ignoring her plea. "It was the night you arrived in Brunswick City, I believe. Yes, the evening of your dramatic retreat into the bathroom. What happened, baby? Did you have a little gang-bang on the train up here? Did you feel you'd been fucked enough for one day?"
Nauseated by John's lewd words, Stephanie attempted to push him away, but he shoved her back into the soft cushions. Grabbing her hands, he wrapped the trembling fingers around his lurching prick. "Put it inside of your cunt!" he commanded.
"No, John," she begged, "not like this!" Tears welled again in her eyes as she searched his face for some sign of compassion or love.
"Good Lord, Stephanie, you really should write a book on Southern etiquette, so that we Yankees can understand how you work." He spoke in a tone of mingled disgust and disbelief. "First, you're screwed by half the old men in the country club, including my own father. Then, you have the nerve to treat me as if I'm raping you!" Patting her cheek, he added sarcastically, "Pardon, me, my dear, if I've insulted your honor."
Stephanie stared at him, her eyes blazing like tiny green bonfires. She was enraged by the unfairness of his taunting accusations and the unbearable memories of the happenings that had cast her into this whirlpool of emotional upheaval. Realizing her hands were still tightly clenched around his rampant cock, she lashed out, crying, "Well, if you think I'm such a slut, why don't you do it? Go ahead and... fuck me! Yes, fuck me! What difference does it make now?"
Without thinking of what she was doing, Stephanie pulled the pulsating member down toward her still stretched vagina. Her equally angered fiance needed no more prompting and reached down to force her thighs apart and bent them up over her torso. Looking down the length of her body, she could see the plane of her pubic area lifted up as if in sacrificial offering while his great heavy cock stood over it like a thick ramrod. John's weighty balls swayed between his thighs as he stroked the thick uncircumcised foreskin back and forth over the bulbous head of his shaft. She did not know him as he stood over her, his expression filled with hate and anger.
"You fucking whore!"
The words sounded so cruelly determined that she winced from the impact. Her own rage and humiliation were suddenly replaced by a fear that he might harm her. Leaning down over her, he grasped her shoulder, digging his fingers into the softness of her flesh. His snarling face was only inches from her own.
"How many other men have you fucked while I've been waiting on your precious virginity, trying to keep myself down so I wouldn't damage your priceless maidenhead?" he spat. "You hit it right on the head, baby! You're nothing but a cheap tramp, just like any other hot little slut."
He slapped her hard, across the face when she turned to plead with him. She fought and struggled for fear he would really hurt her, kicking and scratching with all the strength she had left after her session with the numerous strangers. They were a knotted mass of thrashing arms and limbs when suddenly Stephanie fell from the couch to the floor. John crouched over her prone form lying on the carpet and rained blow after blow across her cheeks. As she groaned in pain and humiliation from the excruciating punishment, he stopped as quickly as he had begun.
"Now, little virgin, I want my share," he snapped. "I don't usually like such well-worn material, but you're an exception. I've had a personal interest in your whoring little ass."
"Oh no, darling, I didn't mean it! Please, not like this, not like this," she sobbed up at him. In spite of her pain and pleading, she could feel him again tearing her legs apart, preparing to take her right there on the floor.
He dropped to his knees between her wide-spread legs, wiggling his thick fleshy rod into position between the lips of her throbbing vagina. Without warning, he fell forward across her body and rammed his cock deep into her still-slippery cunt, forcing a long, low moan from deep in her throat. He had slammed into her with all his strength, sinking the lust-inflated prick all the way to the hilt. She was not prepared for the unexpected entry, but the wetness from the fuckings she had received not an hour earlier had lubricated her and eased his otherwise burning thrust.
John watched her from above with a cruel, lewd grin contorting his handsome face as he saw her quivering beneath his vile attack. He held still for a moment, relishing the sight of his haughty puritanical fiancee skewered helplessly on his huge fiery rod buried deep in her belly. He was going to fuck her until she screamed for mercy, a screw she would never forget as long as she lived.
He began immediately to pound into her with long, vicious strokes, closing his mind to her pain and weeping as she sobbed in unbearable humiliation below his relentlessly pistoning shaft. He slid his hands down Stephanie's flailing body, shoving them under the backs of her thighs, pushing them up and back until her knees pressed into the carpet over her shoulders and she was rolled into a tight fleshy ball of anguished servility. She groaned again and again in agony as he fucked into the wide-spread split between her legs that was now completely open to his desire. His grinding pelvis smacked hard against her helpless exposed vagina until he could hear the wet loud thud of his loins against her crotch. His shoulders propped against the backs of her shapely calves held her in the defenseless position as he savagely pummeled into her. She had had her fun, and now it was his turn.
"Oh, John, John, you can't! Noooooo!" she wailed piteously beneath him.
No answer came from his panting, twisted lips, only the pain of another merciless lunge up against her cervix until Stephanie was sure he would rend her apart. The rape by her students before she had lost control had been horrible, but this was infinitely worse. To be pinioned brutally beneath the one man she loved and be treated like the cheapest prostitute, used selfishly merely as an object to vent his own anger and passion, this was unthinkably degrading. She lay there thinking as if she had no sensations left in her burnt-out nerve ends, she had been ravaged until she almost did not care, almost did not feel--but she was not worn-out enough to stop the waves of humiliation and anguish brought on by the bestial violation of her body by her fiance. She lay passively not moving or caring beneath him. Only the sound of his hips banging into hers came through her daze of pain and helplessness.
"Move it, whore!" he suddenly barked. "Everybody else raves about your ass... Now, show me what's so hot! Move it!"
Reaching underneath her writhing form, he drove his hands under the full, white cheeks of her buttocks and cupped them tightly, kneading at the warm soft flesh, pulling the globes far apart to emphasize with pain his cruel command.
"No, John, please! You're killing me!" she begged under his savage assault.
"Baby, just shut up and move it!" he snarled. "It's just another fuck, like all the others."
"No, it's not true," she pleaded. "You don't understand! I was raped!"
"Move it!" he hissed through tightly clenched teeth, painfully squeezing the fleshy cheeks of her ass.
Stephanie sobbed and commenced a jerky, unwilling rotation of her hips up against his riveting cock to escape the unbearable pain of his finger nails cutting into her flesh. Long red marks followed the paths of his punishing fingers and her misery and subjugation grew proportionately with his savage lust.
She knew his orgasm was coming closer and the thought made her cringe in shame. He was going to deposit his male sperm deep into her belly, not in love, but in hate and fury. It was horrible and unfair, and she wanted to somehow make him stop this terrible punishment of her body, stop treating her like a common tramp. Savage rape had been more bearable when the attacker was a stranger, as it had been every time before, but now she felt no answering passion in her loins, only the consummate horror and humiliation of being taken by her own fiance who now drilled into her like an unthinking primeval animal.
His long hard strokes beat into her slippery passage that had been moistened by the cum fluids of the dozens of unknown men earlier that evening. With each out-thrust, he withdrew the head until only the hard bulbous head remained inside her tortured cunt, then lunged forward with animal strength until his heavy balls banged into the wide-split crack of her ass. She groaned helplessly as her exposed vagina was plundered in his bestial onslaught, 'her body driven back with each jackhammer thrust. Her arms were pinned to her sides by her updrawn legs, and she could feel the huge head slipping up and down inside her aching cunt.
John suddenly speeded his penetration of her defenseless pussy, riddling into her without thought of mercy or her own pleasure. The sound of his deep straining grunts and her painful moans filled the room, mingling with the noise of flesh slapping against flesh and the moist sound of his pile-driving cock lancing in and out of her burning cunt. Ignoring her cries of hurt and shame, he grasped and pinched at her flesh beneath him. He wanted to possess and then destroy this filthy whore who had deceived him for all these months while she had let herself be fucked silly by everyone else, even his own father. Already distended by lust and anger, his cock swelled in her body until he thought it would explode from the resentment and rage he felt toward his fiancee now. The tension was long and bittersweet until moments later it erupted, filling her belly...
Cringing and quivering, Stephanie felt the hot streams of his sperm jetting into her raw, aching vagina. Unwanted thoughts of pregnancy flitted across her tortured mind as she recognized that she would never know whose baby it was, if she had one. John's spurting cum mixed with that of the others deep within her, and she realized she had never felt so debased and alone in all her life.
Slowly, he pulled himself off the girl's still form, his cock slipping slowly out of her battered cunt. He could see the wet matted hair around her furrow glistening wetly with the warm white liquid that ran down the insides of her thighs. It dripped in tiny rivulets down the crevice of her buttocks, forming a dark, wet circle on the carpet beneath. Just like the ones in the back room of the country club, he thought bitterly.
Stephanie lay quietly, beaten and humiliated on the floor. She made no attempt to stir until the harsh sound of his zipper being closed and his last cruel words forced her to attention.
"You're nothing but a fucking little bitch, and, by God, I'm going to make sure this whole town knows about it."
"Oh, no, John, please! At least, leave me my job!" she plead. "You know I'd be fired. That's all I have left!"
"That's a laugh!" he sneered. "While there are men in this city, I'm sure you'll find something to do." Then his eyes lit cruelly as an idea occurred to him. "I'll do you a favor, whore. I just might come up here and see you again. If you can keep me happy, and any friends I bring with me, then I might just keep your little secret."
"Oh, my God, how can you be so heartless," she moaned, but they both knew that she would do anything he said, anything to keep everyone from knowing about her horrible debauchery.
"Heartless, baby? Why, you taught me everything I know," he taunted. "By the way, I'm usually available for stud service, but don't count on anything more than a quickie. I'm afraid there are too many real ladies in my circle who would be offended if they thought I associated with anyone like you."
And then he left her. The door slammed with a loud crack of finality and she cringed from the sound. She lay on the floor for a long time, unable and not wanting to move. She lay in the position he had left her, her legs spread wide, her cuntal lips dripping and raw from the cruel rape she had just experienced. Nothing was important anymore. Everything she cared about had just walked out the door and the full impact of the loss of her love and honor had not truly penetrated her mind even yet.
Even so, she wished she could somehow disappear from the earth, leave this planet for a friendlier place so she would never have to face the sadistic, cruel world of men again. She knew her wish was futile, but, she thought, there must be some way to save herself from the revolting future fate seemed to have in store for her. Just a few weeks ago, she had been a sweet, innocent young woman who did not even really know what it meant to be fucked, and now, her fiance had called her a whore and planned to use her for the pleasure of his friends. How many more horrible surprises could life have in store for her?
She tried to move, experimentally drawing her legs together. Her body ached terribly and she groaned as she pulled herself to a sitting position. Smoothing her hands carefully up to her breasts, she touched them in guarded exploration, finding them tender and sore from John's rough handling. She paused a moment to let her tortured muscles adjust to the movement before she used the couch to pull herself to a standing position.
As she gingerly walked to her bed, she paused at the bedroom doorway, eyeing her form in the full-length mirror on the far side of the room. Though her cheeks still tingled from the brutal slaps, she realized with surprise that her body was not marked by hours of humiliation and debasement she had undergone. Her robe lay in a tattered heap on the floor, the only visible casualty of the savage attack. Perhaps, it was not so hopeless, she suddenly realized. She could still go home. Yes, Monday morning, she would go see the principal and request that she be allowed to break her contract with the school system.
Her deep shame abating for a moment as she thought of how lovely it would be to be once again among the kind, gentle people of her modest little home town, she struggled painfully and with great effort to climb into bed. She was altogether too weary to bother with showering again, to wash away the outward signs of her most recent debasement, the now drying splotches of sperm on her aching thighs and buttocks. She did not even have the strength to douche away the gallons of sperm that must have been spewed into her open womb by all those strangers tonight. The downy, smooth warmth of the sheets comforted her tormented mind and body, and she could not help but feel relief in the thought that her surprisingly eventful stay in this hideous place would soon be coming to an end.
One thing, she resolved before drifting off into welcome unconsciousness: Her life would once again be ruled by blameless purity, would be a faultless example of what she had been taught to expect of herself as a lady. She would somehow suppress the filthy desire that rose up in her and twisted everything in her to its evil will.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Stephanie stood in the mid-morning quiet of the pale green corridor between the school's administration and utility offices, contemplating the door marked "Teachers Only." It was Wednesday and she had regretfully left her best-behaved class to study by themselves, cautioning them to work quietly and help each other only when necessary. She hoped to return to her classroom before the period was over, as she had firmly decided to waste no more time in hesitation, but go directly to the principal and tell him of her resolution to leave the school. She had become impatient with her own indecision and determined to get the task over with so that she would be able to leave the city as soon as possible.
Once before this week, on Monday, she had come upstairs with the intention of visiting Gerard Wharton's second floor office, but had lost her courage before she could accomplish her mission. When she had attempted to walk through the crowded faculty lounge in order to reach the teachers' entrance to the principal's office, her firm resolution had changed to confused embarrassment. Though the dozens of other teachers, most of whom she had never met, seemed friendly when she entered the room on her free hour on Monday, their greetings and interested glances only made her more nervous about the task ahead of her. She was besieged by an unshakable fear that perhaps they knew of the afternoon of debauchery in the cloakroom and wondered whether they could see through her charmingly lady-like exterior to where the lust- driven demon lurked below her consciousness. At last, after shaking seemingly hundreds of hands, she retreated from the teachers' lounge, determined to come back during a less crowded period.
Despite her vigorous resolution to leave Brunswick City, Stephanie found herself reconsidering the decision that also entailed leaving her students. Since the brutal rape by the worst of the young ruffians, Stephanie had found her classes becoming surprisingly cooperative. Even her attackers, Joel, Ben and Cally, now displayed a grudging admiration for the young teacher who had astonished them with the depths of her unleashed passion. In recent weeks, her efforts to teach had been rewarded by the attention and accomplishment of her students, and she had almost forgotten the constant disappointment she had felt in the beginning of the school year.
Nevertheless, she had to admit, she perceived a marked change this week in the attitude of her male students, as if they were aware of the new uncertainty she felt about herself since the weekend's humiliating depravity with John and with the strangers in the country club. Though there were no more outbreaks of suggestive notes or obscene language, the boys' interest in her seemed less impersonal and scholastic. When she lectured or quizzed them, their eyes seemed to rest, not on her face, but on her lush curves, intently studying her body until Stephanie began to wish she could somehow hide from the probing gazes.
This morning, she had finally decided that she must leave the school. Despite her attempts to hold herself in check, she knew the lascivious glances from the young males were arousing her, and she would have to remove herself from the temptation before the evil within her arose to drive her to further degradation.
The tapping of footsteps down the hallway spurred Stephanie to action as she stood before the doorway to the teachers' lounge, and, with a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped in. To her relief, the room was deserted, and she walked quickly to the door marked "Principal" and turned the knob.
"Would you mind taking one more letter, my dear?"
Stephanie heard Gerard Wharton's booming voice even before she saw the walnut-paneled office in which he worked. Used to the austerity of the classrooms, she was shocked by the opulence of the room's velvet drapes and thick, red plush carpeting. From where she stood in the doorway, Stephanie could see her superior sitting at a handsome mahogany desk, nervously clasping and unclasping his hands in his lap as he dictated to the young woman who sat across the room hurriedly writing in a notebook. The teacher realized that she was partially hidden by the deep panels of drapery and decided not to disturb them until the letter was completed.
Stephanie had not seen Wharton since the first day of school, when he had offered to drive her home after the harrowing experiences of the day. She remembered the advice he had given her that day, and realized, with a bitter smile, that he had been right. It was personal attention that had finally won her students' trust in her, but of a sort she knew he would never believe or sanction. With a kind of shame-faced enjoyment, she tried to imagine the expression on his face if he ever learned of the vile assault that had occurred in a cloakroom in his school. The aging man probably could not even conceive of such a depraved happening practically right under his nose, she mused.
"Yours very truly, etcetera," Wharton finally concluded, adding, "Now, my dear, about the school board communications... " Stephanie decided that she could wait no longer, as her class was still waiting for her return, but as she decided to enter the room, she was suddenly taken aback by the sight of the principal quietly unzipping his pants as he gave his young secretary instructions on handling the mail. With his eyes still glued to the young girl, he slowly withdrew his small but throbbingly erect member and began stroking it up and down its length. Stephanie knew that the secretary could not see the hard white penis that the man was now carefully manipulating under his desk, but she still forced herself to stifle an impulse to run out and protect the young girl from the vulgar exhibition.
Instinctively, Stephanie turned her own head away from the lewd spectacle, closing her eyes with a shudder. Her tortured mind rebelled against the unexpected luridness, and she hoped desperately that this was only a hallucination brought on by the deep anxiety of her weekend. Common sense told her that the principal of a high school should be a man of high moral standards, but, when she again peered into the office, she discovered that her idea of what was proper seemed to have no relationship to what was going on before her.
As she watched in shocked horror, the principal's hand jerked faster and faster up and down his hard, pulsing cock, as he spoke calmly to the secretary about several lost files. His eyes were locked on the girl's legs, and, almost as if she were aware of his obscene preoccupation, she uncrossed her thighs and let them fall open limply. His eyes gleaming like beacons, the man continued his discourse while stroking madly with his hand at the rampant penis. Suddenly, his other hand grabbed a tissue from the dispenser on the desk and pressed it over the head of his lurching shaft. Stephanie heard him grunt softly and saw a wet stain quickly soaking through the paper tissue that concealed his prick from her gaze.
Although their conversation had been interrupted by the force of his orgasm, the principal and his secretary only exchanged smiles as if sharing an intimate secret, then went on with their dialogue.
Her mind whirling, Stephanie backed out of the office and noiselessly shut the door behind her. The depraved exhibition had left her beside herself with a near uncontrollable mixture of fear and abhorrence. She struggled within her mind to gather the courage to go back in and tell the principal she was resigning, but the spectacle of his unadulterated, selfish lust had completely unnerved her. She knew she had not imagined the perverted behavior and unhappily decided that she would rather go on teaching than face, in private, the corrupt sex-maniac who presided over the high school.
CHAPTER NINE
The remainder of Stephanie's school day had turned out to be almost as nerve-wracking as the morning's visit to the principal's office. Although she had tried to imagine some extenuating circumstances to rationalize the man's disgusting actions, most of her time and energy had been spent trying to ignore the suggestive glances of the boys in her classes. It had been a thoroughly unsatisfactory day, not enhanced by the young teacher's growing feeling that she was hopelessly surrounded by blatant obscene sexuality and would never be able to dislodge herself from its grip on her mind.
Finally, in an attempt to find time to gather her thoughts into some sort of rational order, she gave her last class an especially difficult surprise quiz, one that she hoped would keep them occupied for the greater part of the class period. Strolling through the rows of quietly laboring students, she tried to refresh her mind by concentrating on something other than the sexual problems that had been plaguing her for that entire day and most of the last three months. As she gazed over the heads of her teenage pupils, her eye fell on Ben, the boy who had proven to be one of the main reasons she had been so happy as a teacher in the past few weeks.
Despite his brutality that afternoon in the cloakroom, had proven himself to be an exceptionally intelligent and receptive student and Stephanie had often mused about how sad it was that such a gifted youth should have to spend his formative years in the ghetto. To her surprise, she had often forgotten that he was black when she read the short stories and essays he had turned in for composition assignments.
As she thought about the youth, Stephanie stopped pacing and turned to view him as he sat working on the examination. She could see through his thin shirt to the broad rippling muscles that covered his back and, while pondering the long, sinewy lines of his body, she could easily recall his appearance that afternoon they had all assaulted her sexually. He had looked like a dark pagan god, standing over her in his naked powerful glory, just before he had leaned over her and driven his huge black cock into her, destroying her long-saved virginity. The memory was almost sweet and she could not help but wonder how they must have looked, a dramatic tableau of black flesh writhing against white, his mammoth, rock-hard prick disappearing into the pink fleshy netherlips between her legs like a pagan African spear.
Stephanie suddenly became aware of an urgent warmth spreading through her loins and, recognizing the danger of her state of mind, she tried to clear her head, to think of something else. But, before she could battle her scandalous imaginings, she felt a strange, light-fingered quivering deep between her thighs. As her body won the short encounter with her rationality, she strode over to Ben and motioned to the boy to follow her out of the room.
As she led the tall, black youth into the hallway, Stephanie had no idea of what she would say to him. The only thing she was conscious of was that the great driving need that had enslaved her, filling her mind and body with an unfathomable, smoldering lust.
"Ben, I'd like to ask you for a favor," she finally began, smiling uncertainly at the Negro who leaned nonchalantly against the wall. "I... well, I have to move some of my furniture tonight and... I... Would you please help me with it, Ben?" The request that had begun so hesitantly finally came out in a breathless rush, and Stephanie looked up in trepidation at the youth, half-afraid he would be angry.
"Sure, Miz Jackson," the boy grinned as Stephanie heaved a sigh of relief. "You want me to bring some help?"
"N-no, no thank you," she said hurriedly. "There's really not that much to do. I'll pay you for your time, though, if you like."
"No, ma'am!" he laughed at her discomfiture. "Why, you know I like doin' things for you!"
"Ummm, yes," Stephanie muttered, totally embarrassed by the young black boy's candorous attitude. She had been prepared for confusion or a refusal on the youth's part, but not tauntingly provocative acceptance of her invitation.
Although she was already wishing she had never thought of the hazardous arrangement, Stephanie resolutely led the black youth back to her desk in the classroom and jotted down her address, requesting him to be there at about seven o'clock. With an easy sensual grin, the young Negro agreed to meet her, then sauntered casually back to his desk to complete the examination with the rest of the students. As Stephanie watched him walking away from where she stood, she felt a mixture of apprehension and excitement, and she nervously speculated on what would happen that evening in her apartment.
The numbing fear she had experienced while speaking with Ben had slightly dampened her urgent desire to be alone with him, and within her, a battle raged between the opposing forces of her animal instincts and her moral beliefs. But the bestial craving was too strong, not allowing her to call off the evening meeting while there was still time. At last, she reached a compromise, promising herself that she would find something to keep the boy occupied and, hopefully, out of her sight and mind, when he came to her apartment. The occasion would offer the perfect opportunity to prove to herself that she did have the power to control this insane animal passion that was transforming her formerly innocent life into a nightmare of lust and humiliation.
CHAPTER TEN
At six-thirty that evening, Stephanie was bustling around her bedroom, rushing to be dressed and ready for Ben's arrival at her apartment. Although her guilt-ridden mind warned her that that evening was a dangerous time to indulge her vanity, she changed from the prim skirt and blouse she had worn to school, choosing instead to wear a youthful-looking mini-dress she had purchased soon after her arrival in Brunswick City. The short, form-fitting brown knit dress was not only more comfortable than her tailored professional garments, but Stephanie knew that the soft fabric and deep open neckline showed off her every tantalizing curve. Though she felt uneasy about the provocatively short skirt, the knowledge that she looked spectacular gave her the confidence to carry out what she had decided to do.
As she rode the bus home from school that afternoon, she had attempted to logically consider what might occur that evening and she had to admit that, in the light of her recent behavior, she might not be ready for any strenuous test of her self-control. The presence of Ben in her apartment also offered another peril. The black youth had already exposed his capability for cruelty and brutal violence, and she did not want to once again become the helpless victim of the Negro's savage passion. Though she wistfully imagined that she should, by now, be calloused and hard after the orgiastic degradations she had been through, she still felt a chilling shock of terror stiffen her body at the thought of being again forced to submit to the repulsive carnal demands of the tall, powerful black youth.
With a shudder, she tried to surmise the reaction of her family if they found out that she had lost her virginity to a black man. Despite the fact that she was their beloved only daughter and that she had been barbarously assaulted against her will, her parents would only recognize the results of the vile incident... She had been ruined by a nigger! Socially, she would be ostracized and ignored as though she were dead, and even her own family would not defend her.
They will never know, Stephanie vowed, standing more haughtily erect as she brushed her long reddish hair before the mirror. That night would be the turning point, when she would act according to the standards she had been taught, never again to fall prey to the brutish inclinations that had overtaken her chastity. After this night, she would carry on as any other honorable Southern lady, sharing her secret with no one. After all, she had been raped that afternoon in the cloakroom--her conscience was clear.
Gracefully pirouetting in front of the full-length mirror, Stephanie admired her lovely reflection, basking in the warmth of the knowledge that she was a truly beautiful young woman. Though she had already decided to put Ben to the task of rearranging her bedroom furniture while she stayed in the living room, catching up on her letter-writing, she was almost sorry that she would not be spending more time in his presence. In these weeks filled with one outrageous vulgarity after another, she sorely missed the awestruck appreciative gazes she had grown to almost expect from any man who viewed her excitingly lovely face and body.
Her sigh of disappointment was interrupted by the sudden sharp ring of the doorbell and, realizing with a start that it was several minutes after seven o'clock, she caught a final, satisfying view of herself in the mirror, then turned to walk to the door. As she approached the front entrance to her apartment, she was suddenly overcome with a chill of apprehension. No, nothing can happen to me tonight, she repeated to herself as her hand hesitated over the knob. Tonight, I will be strong; no matter what he tries to do to me, I will escape. I am a lady! As if to confirm her self-assurances, she looked up at the tiny button alarm she had had installed to be able to summon a security guard within moments. Though she had ordered the bell to protect her if John carried out his threats, Stephanie felt more at ease just as soon as it was installed this week. Firmly admonishing herself to exhibit her iron-clad determination throughout the entire evening, she walked up and pulled open the door.
"Good evening, Ben, it's nice you could come," she coldly greeted the dark-skinned youth who stood before her. Casually gesturing him into the apartment, she added in a tone of elaborate unconcern, "Of course, I wouldn't have asked you over, but it's just so hard to find help nowadays."
As her arrogant intonations rang through the apartment house hallway, the muscular young Negro's expression changed from surprised confusion to a quietly amused smile. Wordlessly stepping into her apartment, Ben brushed Stephanie's shoulder with his thick sinewy upper arm and she trembled for a moment as an unexpected feverish thrill tore through her body. She was annoyed by her instinctive reaction to his touch and whirled angrily on her heel to follow him into the room, steeling herself for the attack on her virtue that she foresaw only moments away. But she found the brawny young Negro boy in his customary stance, casually leaning against the room's far wall, obviously unruffled by her proud demeanor.
Irritated and unnerved by his stoic silence, Stephanie resorted to the frigid stare her mother so often adopted. It was a look that seldom failed to display to "common" people the un- crossable chasm that separated them from Southern gentry like her family. Stephanie's icy green eyes rose as if to meet Ben's calm gaze, then focused on some point to the left of his face, as she remarked with obvious disinterest and some distaste, "Do you think you might be ready to get to work, Ben? I've a rather strenuous task for you, but I assume you're handy at this sort of thing."
Still, the black boy's only response was the same easy smile, and Stephanie began to uneasily wonder if her defensive hauteur, her words and gestures, were not simply being indifferently squelched, mysteriously absorbed into the infinite depths of his dark brown eyes. Despite her dread of any contact with the boy who had raped her, her eyes shifted to meet his gaze, blazing out cold green light in an effort to cut through the dark velvet of his glance and instill in him the respect he owed her and every other virtuous woman.
Immediately she became aware of his inscrutable gaze burning back toward her, melting the frost she had formed in her mind to a misty warmth, blazing through her until a light sweat glistened on her forehead, and smooth waves of profound heat undulated from deep in her belly. Every fiber in her being seemed to be reaching toward the black-skinned boy whose glance had singed away her reserve and fear, leaving nothing but the need to feel the enveloping warmth of his flesh pressing into hers. All conscious thought of why this young Negro was now in her apartment or the anxiety and self-doubt she had known earlier in the evening faded to memories, as the long-smoldering embers of natural passion suddenly began to glow and spark, sending tingling flushes whipping over her flesh until every inch of her body became warm and ripe. As a swelling pressure mounted in her breasts and loins, a corresponding sense of physical urgency gradually overspread her mind, blanketing her consciousness with awareness of her developing needs, but she felt no fear and stared in almost hypnotic fascination at the sparkling darkness in Ben's eyes.
"Well, Miz Jackson, if you got something for me to do, chances are I can do the job. I mean, you did want me to do something, didn't you?"
Suddenly, the spell-binding circuit was cut as Ben's eyes slipped away from Stephanie's gaze, and his deep, lazy masculine drawl tore her out of her enthrallment so abruptly that she was left dazedly shaking Tier head in an effort to clear it after the nearly physical impact of the breathtaking visual contact. Though she was in a near stupor of luxurious sensuality, Stephanie was troubled that neither the boy's words or his typically cool, amused voice indicated that he was even aware of the seething ferment of passion that she assumed had originated in his eyes, then infected her like some tropical fever, utterly painless and symptomless--except for a raving hunger for salacious and depraved pleasure.
My God, she wondered fearfully, what happened to me?... Did he do that to me or did I merely again encounter something in myself? Hoping to chance upon some kind of answer, she relaxed for a moment in order to completely regain her rationality and composure, while studying the young Negro as if seeing him for the first time.
"Hmmmmm, yes, Ben," she said slowly, feeling acutely weary and disheartened, as though she had found a dream world, then accidentally lost it, and with it, a part of herself. "I do have something for you to do--in here."
Stephanie led the black youth into her bedroom, carefully avoiding his openly questioning scrutiny of her. For the first time this year, he seemed genuinely uncertain, thrown off his constant guard by her sudden change from haughty arrogance to near-childlike bewilderment. Stephanie recognized the ironic humor in the situation: Ben's concerned glances, her own state of near shock at the discovery of the disgusting truth about herself. Now, he suddenly cared, she bitterly mused, and wondered why she was so silent that evening, so pale and seemingly unsure of what to do with him. Nevertheless, even in anger she would not place the blame on him, even though he had first shown her the ways of lust, humiliating and degrading her in the cloakroom that afternoon. The truth was obvious to her now, and she could no longer hide from the agonizing knowledge. The black youth had merely shown her the existence of corruption and debauchery, but she alone had looked for the forbidden pleasure, discarding her virtue to voluntarily enjoy depraved bestial passions. And now, she was so degenerate that her sordid craving was caused by a sixteen-year-old boy, the young ghetto hoodlum, and worse, the same savage Negro who had so brutally fucked her and destroyed her maidenhead only weeks ago.
Suddenly realizing that Ben was becoming restive as he waited for her directions, she rapidly made a decision. Whether or not she was now no better than a common whore, she would not submit to this ultimate lewdness, the completion of the corruption of her moral principles. Even though her virtue might be irretrievably lost, she would not compromise her self-respect by searching the classroom for new partners in immorality, but, if she needed a companion, find one at a party or a bar. At last satisfied that she could readily put the problem aside for a while, Stephanie turned to the black boy who was impatiently awaiting her instructions.
"Excuse me, Ben, my mind wandered for a moment," she crisply explained, consciously playing the role of his teacher so that she would not be tempted to take up another, more exciting, but dangerous part that evening. "Now listen carefully. I want the bed under the window, the dresser against the far wall, and the vanity next to my closet. Do you understand?"
Apparently relieved by Stephanie's return to normalcy, the youth nodded a hearty assent, flexing his arms and torso in preparation for the heavy labor the chore would require. The exciting spectacle of the black boy's youthful, blatant masculinity was too enticing for her already- strained self-control to bear, and Stephanie whirled to rush out of her bedroom before she betrayed herself. As she turned, however, the heel of her shoe caught in the pile of the carpet, and before she realized what had happened, she saw the floor suddenly rushing up toward her face.
Moments later, she opened her eyes to see a huge dark blur hovering above her and, forgetting she was not in her home in the South, she cringed away from the towering form, softly crying out in fear of a black man in her bedroom. But her vision quickly cleared and she recognized first her apartment, then Ben, who was leaning over her prostrate body, daubing gently at her forehead with a cold camp cloth. Her immediate relief was just as soon replaced by despairing misery when she recalled the circumstances that had brought Ben to her apartment and the treachery she had discovered within herself only that evening. The distasteful remembrance brought a low groan to her lips, and Stephanie wished for the return of the merciful darkness that had, for a few moments, shrouded her from her grim desolation.
"Hey, baby, that little step of yours is a winner if you can just get rid of the hairy after-effects." Ben's smile beamed down on Stephanie good- humouredly, but she saw it only as a beacon warning of the dangerous ground upon which she now ventured, as she lay beside the young Negro on her bed, the target of his solicitous care. "By the way, Miz Jackson," he continued, "the arm of your desk chair and the floor below it don't even show any scratches. You know, your skull can't take all that excitement, so it looks like your color gonna be a little better than mine for maybe a week or so."
Stephanie shook her head at the youth in heartsick disbelief. Not that too, she brooded, her beauty was all she had left now, and it seemed .that fate wanted to strip her of that too. Crossly shoving Ben's hand from her head, she tried to rise from the bed, hoping to see for herself that the bruise was not as bad as he had claimed, but the exertion only resulted in a pounding headache that forced Stephanie to collapse back to a prone position before she had sat up. As if in endorsement of the sudden ache in her forehead, a dull pain in her ankle began to intensify, reminding her of the cause of the accident.
"Ben, I think I've hurt my ankle too," she finally announced to the black boy who was now swabbing the cool cloth in soothing circles over her face and neck. His care was comforting and more tender and doting than that of any doctor she had ever known. Despite her resolve to exclude any of her teenage students from the ranks of potential lovers, her spirits lifted as she considered the idea that perhaps his concern for her was generated by more than just anxiety for her well-being and she decided to discover if this demonstration was anything more than warmhearted helpfulness for a friend in need.
Lowering her voice until it was barely loud enough to be heard, Stephanie whispered, "Was-- was there anything else, any other damage to me?"
Rubbing the cloth even more gently down into the open neckline of her mini-dress, the boy pushed Stephanie's tousled hair away from her face with his other hand, then answered quietly. "Well, since you asked... " His face warmed with a sympathetic smile as he worked the soft cloth deeper and deeper into her bodice until Stephanie could feel the cool dampness in the valley between her upthrust breasts. "Don't let it worry you, Miz Jackson, but you had a pretty funky nose-bleed. I've cleaned up your skin as far as I can reach, but your dress looks like you just got in from a riot, fighting on the wrong side."
Although the young Negro was sporting one of his lackadaisical grins that usually made any problem seem absurd, Stephanie turned away from the sight of him. Damn! Damn, damn, damn, she mentally raged. Life was not being fair with her and her resentment had been simmering until she now felt close to the boiling point. It seemed that despite the fact that everyone in Brunswick City appeared to be absolutely steeped in any depravity and vice that might be convenient, her own timid experiments were being chosen by some supernatural power as worthy of punishment, including the loss of her fiance, the respect of her students and even her own self-esteem. And now, as if she had not suffered enough in her attempts to regain her virtue and honor, she would be saddled with a hideous bruise, a thickly-swollen sore ankle, a new dress ruined and most heartbreaking of all, the object of her newly-realized sensual drives was, by society's standards, too young for her, a delinquent, and a black man, an untouchable from her family's viewpoint. Every idea she had ever been taught, ever believed as right, told her that her passion for this boy was perverted and loathsome, but the ripening desires she felt were not products of her breeding or education, but unadulterated primitive human reaction to the dark-skinned, beautifully-muscled youth whose strong sure hands were now skillfully massaging her injured ankle.
The touch of his large, calloused hands as they kneaded from her lower calf to the tender area of her injury, then downward to carefully attend to her foot and each separate toe, this deft masculine touch of the black hands on her white skin sent giddy chills of electric excitement coursing through her nerves. Soon, she began to try to conceive of how it would feel if his adroit, but powerful fingers did not stop just above her ankle, but continued upward, pinching and handling the smooth pale flesh of her calves, exploring the baby-soft velvety backs of her knees, then the resilient firmness of her outer thighs... the downy softness of the higher, inner thigh...
"B-Ben... I... th-think I feel a l-little better," she murmured falteringly, struggling with effort to her elbows to face the dark youth who sat on the bed at her feet. The boy's head popped up at the sweet, soft sound of her voice and Stephanie offered him a charmingly feeble smile. From her half-sitting position, she could view the taut, hard muscles that strained against his blue jeans, long sinewy muscles on his hips and thighs, tightly rounded lumps of muscles on his buttocks. She remembered exactly how he had looked that afternoon in the deserted school building, even down to the magnificent pillar of ebony flesh that now was kept from her hungry gaze by the coarse denim that gathered in tight creases over the solidly prominent bulge. Her eyes rested almost of their own accord on the huge rounded lump and, though her breath caught in her throat and she could hardly speak, Stephanie forced out the boldest words of her life.
"Would you mind doing me a favor, Ben?" she whispered quietly. As soon as the youth nodded a quizzical assent to her request, she continued in a throaty, yet tremulant voice, punctuating her words with a shy, small smile. "I-I'm still dizzy, but I don't want to keep wearing this dress all covered with blood." Her wide, frightened eyes met his calm ones, and she blushed as she finished timorously. "I don't think I can take it off by myself."
This was the first time in her life Stephanie had ever been truly sincere about even wanting to embrace a man, much less let him assist in undressing her. Always before, she had been afraid of an embarrassing scene, mortified when she had to push away a date for his presumptive actions, but now, she wanted to be touched and fondled with more desire than she had ever felt for anything in her existence. Especially, she wanted to be stroked by the coarse hands of the tall, powerful Negro youth, exposed naked to his burning gaze, then filled to the bursting point with his rigid prick.
Fearfully watching for his reaction, Stephanie saw the black boy's expression undergo a subtle transformation. Though his apparent interest in her body seemed just as intense as it had a moment ago, his tenderness and concern for her well-being faded from his expression, replaced by a look of concentration and judicious appraisal. His eyes carefully measured her, focusing first on her flushing face, then slowly travelling the length of her lush scantily-clad body. When he looked up at last, to again meet her gaze, Stephanie could see that his eyes were alight with a blazing inner excitement, caused by the knowledge that he, a poor Negro from the ghetto, was suddenly the master of a proud, well-bred Southern gentlewoman.
Stephanie knew he was delighted that her surrender had come, not as a result of violent force, but through the desperation of her thundering need for his hard, young body that had so captivated her that she willfully disregarded all racial taboos in order to be possessed by him. Already, she felt her consciousness sinking into the bottomless, dark pools of his eyes and a strange bittersweet urgency began to grow and swell in her most sensitive parts.
Still, she did not want to hurry this experience, her first introduction to voluntary sensual pleasure. Though Ben sat only a few feet from her reach, she motionlessly awaited his signal, growing more and more aroused as she realized that she had actually placed herself in the power of this youthful giant Negro. The weird pleasurable hunger she felt increased a thousand times as she pictured his ebony shaft pounding into her soft pink-fleshed vagina, harder and harder until they were writhing together in an almost unrecognizable mass of thrashing black and white skin. As the obscene image flickered through her inflamed mind, a low hungry moan flew from deep in her throat, breaking the absolute silence of the room.
As the soft, passionate sound echoed in the quiet of her apartment, Stephanie saw Ben studying her face as if gauging some hidden facet of her personality. Before she could really consider his intense interest in the secret operations that went on behind the deceptively serene beauty of her face, his voice rang out in the stillness, shattering her contemplation.
"Come here!" he commanded in a calculatedly determined voice.
Too startled to object to the abrupt order, Stephanie shakily rose from the bed and stood over him. The boy sat on the mattress' edge, studying her face with a strange sardonic smile, then reached up and pulled the zipper of her dress downward with a brutal tug. His thick, strong arms snaked around her shoulders, forcing her to bend over until her lips met his moist mouth and were pried open by his probing tongue. Sucking gently at the pink spear of moist flesh, she allowed him to push the stained dress down over her shoulders and arms. Stephanie felt herself begin to tremble from the excitement of the black youth's kiss, and what fear remained slowly vanished as she sensed a sudden tightness in the tips of her breasts.
"Take off your clothes," he whispered hoarsely as he finally tore away from the hard, lingering kiss. His eyes raked her body and he added, "I'm going to fuck you! " Stephanie looked into the dark-skinned face that was now twisted into a lascivious grimace of lusting desire. She knew that the boy no longer realized or cared that she was his teacher, a woman six years older than he, but only that she was a voluptuous female object on which to vent his mounting desire. His blood-shot eyes were opaque with passion, locked on the full mounds of her brassiere-clad tits that jutted over the slack folds of her rumpled dress.
"Yes, fuck me... now," she murmured, strangely excited by the sound of the lewd word. Tentatively reaching down between their bodies, she carefully massaged the throbbing lump of his rock-hard penis, feeling more wicked than she ever had before. The prickly warm feeling in her breasts had dropped to between her thighs, and quivering thrills coursed through her loins as she felt the huge prick lurch under her hand.
Suddenly, Ben roughly pushed Stephanie's body away from him with such violence that she tumbled backward to the floor. Through the haze of pain that felt like hot needles jabbing into her injured ankle, she looked up at the boy in confusion and saw that his face was contorted into a strange expression, showing both rising passion and deep- seated contempt.
"I tole you to undress," he hissed. "You think just because you wiggle your ass, I got to fuck you. Well, honky bitch, you're going to show me just how much you want it. Get them clothes off!"
His tender solicitousness of moments before seemed to have completely faded, and though Stephanie did not understand what had caused his sudden anger, she could not help but react to the abrupt change in his attitude. The cruel, masterful tone of the young Negro's voice sent tremors of excitement up and down her spine, and she felt a strange masochistic thrill of pleasure as she tried to imagine what his words had meant.
With trembling hands, she pushed her dress down over her hips and legs to leave it in a crumpled heap on the floor, then reached behind her to undo the clasp of her brassiere. As the white, lacy garment dropped to the carpet, her large, firm breasts fell free, and she gasped as the cool rush of air touched the tawny peaks, causing the soft round nipples to spring into erect tautness.
Her own nakedness sent tiny wisps of forbidden pleasure rippling through her belly, exciting her as she had never been excited before. Looking up, she saw the tall black youth struggling from his clothes, his vision greedily glued to the sight of her nearly naked body crouched on the floor before him. The thought that she would, within minutes, be in the bed, thrashing in unleashed savage ecstasy under this young black stud, added to the fiery arousal that had already enslaved her mind.
"Let's move it, teacher baby," the Negro suddenly sneered. He was sitting spraddle-legged on the edge of the bed, completely naked and lasciviously stroking his hard black cock. "You're got some persuading to do."
As she stripped her panties down over the fullness of her hips and thighs, Stephanie looked up at the leering black youth. She was now totally exposed to his gaze as his eyes locked in lustful desire at the soft field of auburn pubic hair between her legs, and she felt her vagina swell and throb in anticipation of the huge organ of hard ebony flesh. Then, unable to wait any longer, she rose from the floor and walked to the bed, halting before the obviously impatient Negro.
Ben's hands reached out and began running over her naked flesh, his coarse, calloused palms stroking harshly over the smooth, soft whiteness of her skin. She stood still, her arms clamped to her sides, quivering from the lurid sensations that ran through her body. Grasping one ripe full-rounded breast, he pulled it down to his face, then covered the tiny throbbing light brown nipple with his dark thick lips, sucking it deep into his wet mouth. Stephanie gasped and swayed as she stood before him, almost falling.
"Please, please fuck me now." She pushed his head away reluctantly and started to move to get on the bed with him.
"No, not yet," the Negro suddenly directed at Stephanie, catching her hand and yanking her back to stand before him. A cruel smile played over his lips and he hissed, "First, I want you to show me how much you really want it. Show me, baby, show me how much you like this big black cock."
Grasping her elbows, he pulled her downward, forcing her to kneel between his wide-spread thighs. When she was on her knees before him, bent into the attitude of prayer, she felt his hand savagely entwining in her hair, pushing her head toward his naked loins where the huge fleshy pole rose before her eyes from its thick nest of wiry black pubic hair. For a moment, she tried to resist the pressure of his hand, exerting all her strength to pull her head back away from the mammoth black prick that loomed before her. The moist, channel of her pussy ached, almost crying to be filled with the huge throbbing cock that the Negro was trying to make her suck in her mouth. But she realized it was no use to fight. Resigned, she ceased her struggles and allowed him to rub the smooth rubbery head against the hardness of her closed teeth. Suddenly, his hips jerked forward, and the massive cock pushed past her lips, sliding into the warm saliva of her mouth. She could feel it slither up the full length of her mouth, depressing her tongue and filling her cheeks completely with its thick pulsing hardness. Holding her face tightly between his palms, he began to fuck into her mouth brutally, causing her to choke and gag as he slammed it halfway down the narrow passage of her throat, almost its full length disappearing between her lipsticked lips. Struggling for breath, she gasped for air on the outstroke.
"Ooooooh shit, suck it now, baby, suck it," she heard him groan above her. His words aroused her and she sucked hungrily as the spongy stiff rod buried itself deep into the moist warm cavern of her mouth.
Tiny droplets of seminal fluid seeped from the tiny opening of the gland at the end, and the sharp pungent taste and odor caused her mouth to salivate and her nostrils to flare out in excitement. She closed her eyes to keep from choking as the great fleshy black shaft plunged in and out of her oval-shaped lips. Though doubts ran wildly through her mind and she felt somehow deprived of what she really wanted, this huge erected prick sunken deep into her hungry vagina, a weird madness of masochistic joy from the obscene thought of being fucked half to death by a Negro's cock in her mouth was overcoming her. She felt as though she were hardly conscious and yet she sucked at the pounding sex organ, aware of nothing in the world but this massive steely rod ramming down into her throat.
"Tighten your lips and suck it harder, baby," he hissed from above her, his voice husky and breathless with passion. As he spoke, Ben's hands pulled her head down hard on it, gagging Stephanie as the throbbing head hammered into the back of her mouth. As he watched his dark cock sliding in and out of the white woman's lips, he felt as though he were finally getting vengeance for the years he had lived feeling like a second- class human in the company of people like her. Now it was his turn to retaliate against the white race by fucking savagely into the mouth of this luscious, haughty bitch who had lived under society's protection for so long. He would take his full measure of revenge by satisfying his own lust, then walking out while she still craved more of his huge ebony cock. Trying to imagine spewing his hot load into that proud little mouth, he could feel a fiery lurching deep in his balls. He could not wait to see her struggling to swallow his hot, boiling sperm as he shot it deep into her throat.
The long black column that filled Stephanie's mouth began to swell, and she tried to increase the moist suctioning around it as the hard bulbous head rammed into her throat, expanding with each brutal thrust. She turned her eyes up to him in a silent plea, hoping the expression on her face would induce him to be less cruel as he battered into her face with rapid, savage lunges. But as he stared back down at her with a lewd, evil grin, she realized for the first time that he was punishing her, using her like a helpless puppet, a mere object on which to vent his lust and bitterness. Still, her pride had been broken and she did not really care now. All that mattered was the great shaft of dark flesh that pummeled faster and faster into her mouth. Saliva dribbled down from the corner of her lips, coating her chin and lower face, and she felt his huge hairy balls beating against the wetness in a staccato rhythm of surging passion.
The lust-crazed youth was watching her, his face contorted with animal passion. Holding the sides of her head in a vise-like grip, he forced her lips downward, even closer to the base of his cock, pushing the soft, white skin of her face into his sweat-soaked pubic hair. A thundering roar beat through his brain and he knew he could hold back no longer--it had to be now.
Pressing his fingers into her cheeks to make the warm moist cavern of her mouth even tighter, he crammed his pulsing distended shaft deep into her face and lunged his hips forward. His massive instrument throbbed and expanded in the channel between the softness of her tongue and the firm, slippery roof of her mouth as he speared into her with long, powerful strokes until it felt as though a thousand volts of electricity were shooting through his body.
A second later, Stephanie heard a coarse, half human scream rip from the Negro's throat and his hot milky fluid began to gush like a waterfall into the confines of her sucking mouth. Her throat tightened spasmodically as she swallowed in desperate gulps the sticky white load that bloated her cheeks and overflowed in trickling streams down her chin. His hands gripped her head until he emptied himself completely into her sperm-filled mouth, then Stephanie was released to fall against his leg as he collapsed backwards on the bed.
As she leaned against the side of the bed, feeling lonely and deserted, she tried to fight the tears of anger at Ben for using her so selfishly. To her surprise, she did not really feel humiliated, but more angry and mortified that she had been manipulated so unkindly. She could feel her cunt quivering with unfulfilled desire, but she was sure it would be hopeless to even attempt to arouse him again. Still, she thought, it would be better to be touching him than to sit on the floor in lonely dissatisfaction.
Almost frightened by her own immoral audacity, Stephanie crawled up onto the bed where the exhausted boy lay panting. Although she was not quite certain of what to do with the sprawled form of the handsome, black youth, she acted instinctively, reaching out to gently stroke and massage the cock and testicles that now nestled limply between his parted thighs.
Moments later, the exhausted Negro felt his youthful fires rekindling under her gentle manipulation. Already determined to leave Stephanie completely unsatisfied, the black youth almost pushed her hand away from where it softly stroked his deflated penis, but the natural hotness of his adolescent spirit overcame the antagonism he felt toward the whit woman, and his flaccid organ began to respond almost immediately to her delicate massaging. Nevertheless, he resolved to fuck her as she had never been fucked before, in a way that would horrify her, but would leave her sated and eventually wanting more.
A few, final droplets of seminal fluid still oozed from his prick, yet already Stephanie could discern a fresh hardening in his groin, and she watched as the jerking cock crawled slowly up the inside of his thigh, rising like a loving pet to meet the insatiable stroking of her hand. She heard his breath catching in his throat and her fingers instinctively slipped down to his balls, fondling them lightly with a feathery teasing motion until his bloated shaft of black flesh strained rigidly toward her anxiously hovering face.
"Ben?" she whispered hesitantly. "Are you asleep?"
The young Negro's eyes flew open at the absurd question and he smiled knowingly at her troubled, anxious expression, aware that she would be soon be writhing and screaming in unbearable ecstasy beneath him.
"All right, baby, you did your part," the black youth grinned up at the older woman. "Now roll over on your back. I'm going to stuff this black cock up your belly until you can taste it. That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Yes! Oh, yes!" she gasped, her mouth dry with excitement at his words. Smiling happily and lazily, she stretched out on the bed beside the boy, spreading her legs in delicious anticipation, thinking of the exquisite pleasure that was sure to be hers in only a few moments.
The Negro held himself back for a short time, purposely torturing both of them in expectation of the moment when he would shove his long thick cock between the full white moons of her proud little white ass. He wanted nothing in the world more than to see her uncontrollably wriggling before the attack of his throbbing black cock as it plunged deep into her inviolate little asshole, completing his conquest of the arrogant white bitch. Though he had to admit he had felt an unexpected tenderness toward her earlier in the evening, when she had hurt herself, her casual assumption that he wanted nothing more than to fuck her any time she wanted him had filled him with anger at her and her kind. Now, they would see who held the power in this situation, he thought. He would laugh out loud when she suddenly turned complete animal and lost all control over herself, ignoring everything but her overpowering need to be fucked in a way that would repulse and disgust her. The sadistic idea ran through his loins like wildfire.
Stephanie was lying back on the bed, her mouth loll ling open in a dazed rapture of anticipation when Ben sat up and lowered his dark head over her smooth ivory belly. His darting tongue flicked teasingly into her navel, then traced a path down the soft flat skin until his face was a few scant inches from the wispy tendrils of reddish pubic hair that bordered the tender sensitive ridges of her pussy. She could feel his moist warm breath beating down on the naked hair-lined flanges of her cunt as his fingers gently pressed apart the soft folds, exposing her hardening clitoris to the cool air and bring it to thrusting erection. A slight moisture glistened on the outer lips as he pulled the soft pink cleft completely open. Suddenly, his long, dripping wet tongue snaked forward, burying itself in the exposed slit with a wet, sucking sound.
Stephanie was amazed at her own reaction to the maddening assault of his tongue and fingers. She felt as though she had changed into some kind of wild animal, driven by a powerful instinct to accept and need his lascivious ministrations. Yesterday, she might have been repulsed by the strange, lewd sensations that pounded through her body and mind, but now she wanted more, as much as she could possibly stand. Tangling her fingers in the Negro's wiry black hair, she strained his face tighter to her crotch and swiveled her pelvis in pulsating rhythm with the warm, wet spear that probed into her wide-split cunt. She felt a primitive need pounding through her as her mind erupted with new, alien, wanton thoughts.
Her vaginal passage contracted, opening and closing tightly around the long smooth lance of flesh worming deep inside her. Her muscles strained, the cords of her thighs standing out tautly as she ground her back down into the mattress and heaved her pelvis up against the sudden curling and flicking of his tongue up inside her cunt. Fighting the iron-like grip she held on his head, the young Negro began to work his thick, drooling lips over the whole area of her upturned crotch, sucking and licking crazily from the swollen pea-like nodule of her clitoris to the tight puckered hole of her anus. Then, his pointed tongue slowly rounded the tightly constricted opening and probed gently at the light brown puckered flesh.
"Noooo, not there," she moaned breathlessly as awareness of his depraved assault filtered through her daze of wild, abandoned sexuality. This was not the normal, healthy eroticism she had finally accepted as something she needed and wanted, but an unnatural defilement of her body.
But the boy ignored her plea, determined to humiliate and subjugate the white woman by ravishing her in her tight, virginal asshole. "Turn over, baby," he commanded as he slowly rose from the degrading tonguing of her anus. "Get on your knees."
"Oh, no... no... nooooo!" she moaned. She shook her head in violent protest, but, before she could escape, her gaze was suddenly transfixed by the sight of the boy's massive rod of stiff black flesh that jutted from his body like a huge limb on a tree. She reached out to fondle it and, as her fingers smoothed over the gigantic rock-hard penis, she knew she wanted it inside her, it did not matter where or how. She wanted him to skewer her with every last inch of the thick black cock and the very sordidness of the thought intensified the wild desire burning lustfully within her. It was as if her mind had already blocked out the sickening offensiveness of the debauchery he had planned for her.
A tremor of fear passing through her at the thought of the inhuman rape that lay in store for her, she reluctantly twisted her body around and pulled up her knees, raising her soft resilient buttocks high in the air, then waited in the humiliating posture as the dark-skinned youth moved in behind her to rub his rigid organ in the soft yielding crease of her buttocks. Grasping her ankles, he spread her legs further and further apart, then pulled open the smooth globes of her ass cheeks until he could see the tight hairless little hole nestling teasingly down in the narrow crevice.
No, she thought, he can not mean it. He was trying to make her beg, to even further humiliate her. Well, it would not work, this time. She would play the game out until he surrendered. No one could truly want to commit this degenerate act-- it was just too horrible a perversion to have ever really happen. It certainly would not happen to her!
Ben's finger pushed at the little brown inlet that now was exposed to his view, pressuring against the tiny puckered hole until one finger popped in and was suddenly embedded up to the first knuckle. She jumped forward in unbelieving horror at the excruciating pain of the entry, feeling as though a red hot poker had been driven into her narrowest opening. As she trembled under the vicious assault, mustering all her courage to bear the agony until his vulgar game came to an end, he rotated his finger deeper and deeper into her rectum, expanding the tight, contracting asshole. Another finger suddenly plunged into the unready passageway, forcing a piteous squeal from Stephanie's throat as she ground her face into the coverlet and tried to shake off the brutal impalement. She moaned desperately, begging him to stop as she realized at last that this was not a crude practical joke but a truly evil plot to violate her only remaining virginal opening. But the Negro persisted, screwing the two fingers into the deep, rubbery channel, savagely drilling in and out of her warm velvety passage in preparation for the greater entry that was to follow.
Stephanie could not even accept the monstrosity of what was happening to her, much less the awareness that the pain was slowly fading and she was beginning to desire this obscene depravity. Her dread gradually vanished, however, as his other hand sensuously nipped at her tiny, throbbing clitoris, and she felt unwanted waves of pleasure surging through her. Her mouth opened, and she began to pant and mewl crazily as the two fingers worked around and around deep in her wide- stretched rectum. Stephanie squirmed beneath his cruel probes in total surrender and finally whimpered: "Please, fuck me there! Fuck me in the ass!"
Smiling evilly, the black youth pulled his fingers out of the young woman's writhing buttocks, watching gleefully as the moist skin clung to them until they popped out with a wet sucking noise. Once again, he pried the soft cheeks of her ass far apart and licked at the tiny quivering hole until she thought she was going out of her mind with the teasing tantalization.
"Oh God, fuck it! Fuck it now!" she suddenly screamed in maniacal passion. "Quick, quick, screw my ass or I'll die!"
The young Negro smiled complacently. She was at his mercy and he meant to take advantage of her subjugation, making her pay for every insult he had ever had to accept from a white person. His eyes roamed triumphantly over her tortured face as she stared back at him, wild-eyed with lust, and he felt her reach back under her body and hungrily stroke at the hairy testicles that dangled between his thighs.
"Put it in your asshole, bitch!" he ordered harshly.
Her trembling hands obediently clasped the rock-hard shaft and a sudden expression of terror flashed through her eyes as she remembered the enormity of the throbbing instrument she felt in her fingers. Succumbing to the fear she suddenly felt, Stephanie tried to cram the huge member in her soaking vaginal lips, working the smooth bulbous head back and forth in her cuntal juices to ease the entry.
"Your asshole, bitch!" he snarlingly repeated.
Realizing that he was aware of her attempt to deceive him, she acquiesced to the cold command, tremulously positioning the massive tip against her tight hairless opening. She could feel his thumbs pressing outward at the globes of her ass, pulling them wider and wider apart, until the head of his hungry cock pushed against the cringing mouth of her back passage. She knew it was hopeless to resist as the hardened head stabbed painfully against her anus, and she cringed in unbearable pain as the blood-gorged tip suddenly popped through her tightly-resisting sphincter muscle. Her face contorted in the agony of the first ravishment, and she desperately tried to pull away. But the Negro, grinning sadistically, held her hips in place as his thighs pressed insistently forward.
"Shove back, damn you! Shove back!" he bellowed.
In automatic obedience to the loud command, she hunched back, feeling him push with all his strength to overcome the natural resistance of her narrow hindmost opening. The weight of the powerful Negro's body pushed down on her with pulverizing strength, lambasting mercilessly at the rubbery flesh.
"Oh, God, you're killing me! It's too big!"
Ben grinned insanely as she uttered the hysterical plea, feasting his eyes on the sight of her white, full-rounded ass impaled on his huge black prick. He heard her scream in torment as he forced yet another inch of his penis into the wide- stretched oval opening between the quivering mounds. His prick felt like solid steel and his testicles were heavy as cannon balls, throbbing with unbelievable pressure. Miss Stephanie Jackson, an arrogant, beautiful Southern bitch was kneeling before him like a slave receiving punishment from a feudal baron. This was better than he had ever hoped or dreamed.
Stephanie no longer felt human as the black cock tore into her rectum, pushing against the bottom of her belly inside like a monstrous pestle jammed into a tiny mortar. Turning her head back again, she saw Ben grinning victoriously just before he thrust his pelvis heavily downward. With a loud smacking noise, his hips banged against the softness of her twin buttocks and the torturing instrument was buried to the hilt in her ravaged anus. She was hopelessly impaled, like a pig on a spit. Tears of pain and humiliation ran down her cheeks in tiny glistening rivulets as the muscular black youth, gasping in diabolical delight, began to piston in and out of her tight- stretched passage with the power of his sadistic impulses spurring him on. He rammed into her with cruel hard thrusts, his great swinging balls buffeting against her tight, straining cunt, and unexpectedly, she found herself becoming accustomed to the presence of the tremendous cock boring into her.
As the pain suddenly seemed strangely pleasant to her, she ground back to meet the forward thrust of his cock, undulating her body and swinging her hips in tiny rotating circles. She gyrated obscenely, lowering her hips to pull the lust- hardened prick out of her quivering rectum, then driving back to bury it deeply within her burning channel, the blunt intrusion firing every fiber of her being. Her head thrashed from side to side in unfeigned passion on the coverlet and her lips were bared back from her teeth in masochistic joy. She was loving it and she bucked back against him like a mare against a stud horse, her auburn hair flying around her face and neck as she squirmed lewdly on the pumping instrument.
The Negro could see her face flushing red from the intensity of her effort, her eyes wide in unseeing entrapment in the final quest for fulfillment. He watched in heated passion as his pillaging cock pulled tiny ridges of her light brown clasping flesh out with the base of his prick as it withdrew for another powerful lunge inside her, then pushed the tight elastic ring back inwards like a tiny bellows on the instroke.
Sweat rolled off his face and ripped in tiny glistening streams from her back onto the bed. The black youth's eyes bulged wide at the spectacle of her young body bucking before him and felt the rubbery passage slipping over his cock like a tight-fitting glove. He had lost control of himself and his heavy member swelled in her rectum like an inflating balloon.
Stephanie waved her ass back against his bludgeoning thrusts. She wanted him to cum, to shoot his great boiling stream of sperm deep into her bowels. There was no longer any pain or doubt, only a feeling of being filled as she had never been before. Her ass swayed high in the air and she ground back as she felt the enormous penis throbbing into a torturous hardness.
There was a low strangled gasp behind her and she felt his great, pulsating cock burst like a dam as he gave one last shove that sent wave after wave of his hot sperm flooding into the depths of her belly. Then, she felt the tremor of her climax sweep through her and she screamed out her release as it gushed from her open cunt, drenching the Negro's hairy balls pressed tightly against the spewing opening. The orgiastic fluids were trickling down her thighs in mingled streams when the youth groaned in exhaustion and collapsed, flattening her to the bed.
Moments later, he pulled his rapidly deflating cock from her forever expanded rectum with a lewd wet, sucking noise. As it slipped from between the full white moons of her buttocks, she felt a sudden rush of cool air that cleared her mind slightly from the daze of satiated lust. Though she felt wet and slightly sore from the ordeal of sodomy she had just undergone, she felt peaceful and strangely fulfilled.
"Man, you're really a wild fuck!" she heard the Negro gasp just before she drifted gratefully into sleep. "We're gonna have to do that again. What do you say, is it cool if I bring over some of the other guys next week?"
"Yes, Ben, that's fine," she mumbled, not even aware of what she was agreeing to. "Bring all of them you want to!" Smiling contentedly, she curled up on the bed and lost consciousness of her surroundings, a childlike smile lighting her face.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"I'm terribly sorry I'm late for our appointment, Mr. Wharton," Stephanie said uncertainly as she seated herself before the short dark man who stared at her across the impressively large desk. "I had an important conference with several students that lasted a bit longer than I had anticipated."
"That's all right, Miss Jackson. I understand," he said, his eyes dropping to examine a thin sheaf of papers. Stephanie hoped that he could not detect the full extent of her apprehension at being summoned to the principal's office. She tugged nervously at her skirt, pulling it down as far as possible over her knees, all the while wondering if her clothing revealed more of her lush figure than he might feel was decorous for a high school teacher. And yet, that was rather silly, she thought, considering what she had seen that day--the principal himself lewdly fondling his sex organ...
"Miss Jackson," he began, "I've called you in to inform you of some rather unfortunate news... news as much of a surprise to me as I'm certain it will be to you. Due to a decision on the part of the board, I'm obliged to inform you that your services are no longer required at this school. I'm sure you understand why this decision was made, and I hope you'll save us both the embarrassment of forcing me to elaborate."
"But I don't understand," she protested, "and yes, I'm quite surprised."
"Very well, then, it has to do with a number of rumors from reliable sources... It seems that you've been indulging in wholly irregular activities with your students--notably one incident in your classroom, after school hours, and a more recent occurrence in your own apartment." The full brunt of his statement hit her in the stomach like a hammer, making her head whirl and face color as she realized the true import of his words. Her mind flashed back at once to the first week of school, to the brutal and criminal rape that she had failed to report for fear of what was happening this very minute. How ironic that her own students had brought her to this gross injustice. In each of the debasing experiences that had occurred during the following weeks, she had been savagely assaulted through no fault of her own--not really. And now this beady-eyed little man was giving her notice... the same man who had himself all but propositioned her, was now treating her as though she had been the actual cause of the students' depravities.
"You will of course receive two weeks severance pay, even though, as of this minute, you are released from our contract," he explained. "However, I hope you realize that I personally have no misgivings regarding your conduct. In fact, please feel free to contact me as soon as possible, and I'll give you all the individual assistance I can. I hope you'll call me in the next week or so."
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Wharton," she proudly announced, answering his intense, suggestive gaze with a cool smile. "I'll be leaving Brunswick City just as soon as I can arrange to have my belongings shipped home."
"Now I wouldn't be rash, my dear. After all," he went on, "we might become very good friends, and... " But Stephanie did not hear his last words, for she had risen and was now closing his office door, shutting out Gerard Wharton and all the hoodlums in his charge. She had to think about tomorrow.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Stephanie stared out the window of the speeding train, trying to see past her reflection into the solid blackness of the night outside the brightly lighted coach. The monotonous racket of the hard wheels on the tracks below had lulled her into a tranquility, the first peace she had known in the two days since she had left the school.
No one had seen her off at the station when she had boarded the train that afternoon, and she had been grateful for that small kindness of fate. After all, who was there in Brunswick City? Who knew her and the true cause of her shameful conduct? Ah, well, she smiled to herself, that part of her life was over now. She had left that dark, still unexplained part of her personality along with the towering skyscrapers and unfriendly people in the city behind her--all that had been the cause of her downfall, professionally and socially. Now, she could resume her normal life where she had left it that August afternoon when she had stepped off the train to meet John in his native city. Before the sun would set tomorrow, she would be back among the people who knew and understood her as Stephanie Jackson, the beautiful, cultured daughter of one of her town's leading citizens. Closing her eyes, she dreamed of the new day and the beautiful, familiar life to which she would awaken in the morning.
"Excuse me--is this seat taken?"
Stephanie's eyes snapped open to discover the source of the deep masculine voice that had just interrupted her pleasant reverie. She was mildly surprised to see a blonde youth who looked barely older than the students she had left behind.
"Why, no... Please sit down," she purred at the handsome lad, feeling a sudden, unexpected warmth rising from deep within her. The rational part of her mind immediately began issuing warning signals. However, as always before, it was already too late.
Glancing up through her long thick lashes, she murmured softly, "Well, we might as well introduce ourselves... My name's Stephanie, Stephanie Jackson. Are you going far?"
"That depends," the youth replied, a conspiratorial smile creasing his face as he recognized the passion that blazed from her green eyes.
She met his gaze, answering it with something within her that she had perhaps wrongly interpreted as "the other Stephanie"...
