Homework For Teacher
by Brandon Andrews
(bss-750)


FOREWORD 

Nearly twenty-five years have passed since the American public was rocked by 
the publication of a novel called The Blackboard Jungle. Despite the fact 
that the puritanical censorship laws of the time did not permit the author 
of this history making novel to tell his story in all its real horror, the 
book did contain scenes of vicious crime and undisguised sexual violence 
which successfully shocked an entire generation into a new awareness of the 
bloody turmoil at the heart of the modern metropolis. The comfortable 
middle-class reader did not want to believe that young female teachers could 
be raped and murdered in their own classrooms, but at the time there was 
plenty of solid evidence that The Blackboard Jungle was not a morbid fantasy 
or science fiction, but a stunningly, realistic portrait of actual life in a 
secondary school located in the middle of a slum. a nation can have a 
multitude of troubles in twenty-live years, and the United States has had 
more than its share in the last quarter century. Two wars and countless 
international crises, a nationwide drug menace, economic woes and 
generational guerrilla warfare all helped to crowd The Blackboard Jungle off 
the front pages and middle-class citizens tended either to forget completely 
about the plight of the big city slum school, or to assume that some 
efficient governmental agency had stepped in and corrected the situation. 
Little was heard of the ruthless adolescent gangs which had dominated the 
streets and alleys during the fifties, and the average resident of the 
peaceful suburbs was beginning to forget that they had ever existed. The 
Blackboard Jungle was on its way to becoming a bad dream in the historical 
memory of the American People. 

Thus, for the publishers, it was almost an unpleasant shock to receive the 
manuscript of HOMEWORK FOR TEACHER. True, this particular author had a solid 
reputation as an in-depth reporter on the social and sexual problems of 
modern America, and his expertise as a creator of fiction had been 
demonstrated in a half-a-dozen well received books on a variety of 
contemporary subjects. But it seemed impossible that anyone today would take 
the trouble to go back into the slum and look to see if the blackboard still 
stood in the midst of the jungle or if indeed the jungle was still there at 
all! Surely this was now all ancient history! 

But in the pages of this absorbing, passionately written novel, the 
publishers found that the unpleasant shock was precisely this: Mr. Andrews 
had picked up where The Blackboard Jungle left off, plunging even farther 
into the depths of what happens in a high school which stands in the midst 
of the ruins of what used to be a city. Ancient history? Look again, reader, 
our author is talking about current events, things which happened yesterday, 
are happening right now, and will probably happen again tomorrow. 

Naturally, Mr. Andrews' description of gang violence and sexual rapacity 
could have been expressed in the dry, colorless terms of the sociologist or 
urban planner. Statistics might have been quoted to show downward trends in 
adolescent morality or rising rates of crime among students and the result 
would have been a sober, responsible book which almost no one would have 
wanted to read. Instead, our author has written a brilliantly imaginative 
novel describing the explosive sexual tension between three people: A young 
and sexually attractive female teacher who is facing her first year of work 
in the city's roughest school; a mild-mannered English instructor who is 
battling to bring some semblance of civilization and humanity to the wild 
slum in which he grew up; and a hoodlum with a high l.Q. whom both teachers 
are trying to turn into a decent human being. The tension is high in quality 
and intensely sensual in nature. Both of the men involved are in some way in 
love with the woman; Phil Matthews, the English teacher, is courting her 
with sensible advice and tickets to the theater, trying desperately to 
establish his own manhood in the process. Bud Swift, the ex-convict, cannot 
compete on this level, and is not sure whether he ought to be competing at 
all. Inside this Hamlet-like character, two forces are at work, slowly and 
surely tearing the young man in two. Should he concentrate his energies on 
retaining his reputation as the school's number one tough guy; and go along 
with a degenerate scheme to kidnap and sexually molest the voluptuous but 
naive young biology teacher? Or will he opt for the sober dreams laid out 
for him by Philip Matthews: College, career, respectability, marriage to 
some nice woman like Miss Kathleen Barton, and a home in the suburbs away 
from the horror of the slum'. ' 

Tragically, he tries to do both, learning too late that in the depths of the 
slum, there are some choices so profound that one must choose cleanly and 
without compromise. Swift's momentary indecision turns the world around him 
into a battlefield, and the disputed terrain is the naked and defenseless 
body of the young biology teacher, an innocent woman who has wandered 
mistakenly into a hell. 

-The Publishers 

 PROLOGUE 

Kensington Central High School was founded privately in 1820 by the Reverend 
John Cecil Kensington, a wealthy clergyman of indistinct denomination, whose 
objective was succinctly stated in the school's constitution as "the 
providing at a moderate cost of a decent Christian education to the sons of 
working class members of the neighborhood," a not overly subtle reference to 
the well-established fact that the area around Kensington was rapidly 
degenerating into what later generations would callously refer to as a slum. 
The Reverend Doctor Kensington dished out Christian morality at a moderate 
cost to the sons of the working class until 1839 when he died and the school 
was taken over by the city to operate at public expense; and while the good 
Reverend's Christian morality was no longer included in the curriculum, the 
tuition was abolished in accordance with a civic ordinance which stipulated 
that public instruction would be provided free of charge to the "generally 
underprivileged residents of this area in an effort to raise the general 
standards of culture and citizenship in the community. " 

As the decades rolled by, the neighborhood surrounding Kensington Central 
staggered under the impact of one set of homeless, impoverished and normally 
illiterate refugees after another. The thrifty but hard-drinking Germans who 
had originally settled the area were driven out by a wave of Irishmen who 
were equally hard-drinking but somewhat less thrifty; these in turn yielded 
to Italians and a motley assemblage of Central Europeans who stayed for a 
generation or two before the invasion of American Negroes and Puerto Ricans 
began. Candidates for mayor of the city routinely promised the voters that 
"something" should be done about what had come to be called the "Ken Central 
Problem." but nothing ever seemed to change until the ugly but picturesque 
wooden building erected by the Reverend Kensington burned or was burned to 
the ground in 1931 and had to be replaced by a cement building which was 
equally ugly and resembled an anti-aircraft emplacement in design and 
appearance. In 1939, a city councilman introduced a bill calling for the 
abolition of Kensington Central as a school and the conversion of the 
building into a jailhouse. The motion was defeated by two votes. In 1952, 
the local city police station was assigned two extra patrolmen since it was 
found necessary to maintain a minimum of two men on duty during school hours 
for the protection of female students and faculty from juvenile delinquents. 
After the mayoral elections in that same unfortunate year, Kensington's 
principal was found guilty of having certain moral defects in his character 
as far as his relations with little boys were concerned and was replaced by 
a more righteous man, Herman Parsons, who knew virtually nothing about the 
administration of a large metropolitan school but had married the mayor's 
ugly daughter, this in one masterful stroke demonstrating himself to be a 
loyal party man and a practicing heterosexual. Mark Hanson, who had been for 
one season a talked about quarterback for a professional football team, took 
over Kensington's Physical Education program in 1967, starting the school on 
its way to a long way to a long string of football championships in the 
city-wide competitions. He was joined the following year by Philip ft'? 
'thews, M.A., whose poetry had appeared in several women's magazines, but 
beyond Hanson and Matthews ( who hated each other) the faculty was totally 
undistinguished. 

In 1972, Kensington mourned the passing of Wanda Billings, who had taught 
biology at Kensington for nearly a half century without having once 
mentioned the word "sex" and the Board of Education assigned Miss Kathleen 
Barton to fill the vacancy. Due to an administrative error. Miss Barton 
reported for her first teaching assignment after graduation from college a 
week after classes had already begun. 

 CHAPTER ONE 

"Hey Bud, we got Biology class this afternoon?" 

Bud Swift stretched lazily in his seat and glanced at his watch, ignoring 
the history teacher who continued to lecture in the front of the room 
despite the fact that almost no one was paying attention. 

"Guess not," he replied contentedly. "The new teach isn't in yet, and we 
ain't got football practice either. Might as well split, eh?" 

"Got a better idea," confided the other student, a tall rugged youth of 
about eighteen with a knife scar on the side of his face. "You know that 
little sophomore chick we was talkin' to last night after class? The cute 
one with the nice little tits?" 

"Yeah, I remember her," breathed Bud Swift, exhaling slowly as he pictured 
the girl in his mind. At twenty-one, Swift was the oldest student at 
Kensington, a man who had been to prison twice and was generally believed to 
have committed one undetected murder, a fact which gave him considerable 
status among the students. "So what?" 

"I noticed that every night she hangs around the school in the library until 
everybody else splits and then goes down to the gym for a shower. I hear her 
old man kicked her out of the house and she's sleeping at a friend's place, 
but I guess they ain't got a bathtub." 

"So what are we supposed to do? Go down and hold her towel for her?" 

"Something like that. She should be honored to split a shower with a couple 
of football heroes." 

"You know, Tony, hanging around with me is improving your mind," responded 
Bud after a moment's consideration. "I guess we'll just amble on down to the 
Ladies' Locker Room after class and see what happens." 

* * * 

On the door to the office, a sign announced: Mr. Mark Hanson, Chairman, 
Biology Department, and inside there were two men drinking cold beer from a 
refrigerator which Hanson kept for that purpose in the corner of the room. 
Hanson, himself, was feeling vaguely ill at ease, knowing that the 
replacement for Mrs. Billings was due to report in sometime today, and 
wondering how much trouble the new teacher would turn out to be. Women 
teachers who came to Kensington always turned out to be catastrophically 
ugly for some reason, so there was little probability of sexual interest, 
and furthermore, Hanson disliked them as a group because they were always 
incapable of controlling their classes, which usually meant more trouble for 
him. 

"Probably be forty-seven and weigh two hundred pounds," he commented to Jack 
Flanigan, a science teacher who was sucking morosely on his beer, having his 
own problems to think about. There were chemicals missing from the 
laboratory, and Flanigan knew just enough about chemistry to entertain the 
vague suspicion that the thief may have stolen them with the creation of a 
bomb in mind. If the chemicals could be traced after the explosion, he was 
going to be in hot water . . . 

"Hey, who was that?" the science teacher said suddenly, snapping quickly out 
of his melancholy day dreams and staring out through the half-opened door 
into the corridor. "That broad who just walked by with Phil Matthews?" 

"I saw her, I saw her," exclaimed Mark Hanson irritably, setting his beer 
bottle on the table, and rushing to the door only to find that Matthews and 
the woman had disappeared around the comer. "Must be the latest Miss America 
or a visiting beauty queen. Wow! Did you see those tits? Anybody else would 
get her the hell out of here and back to his apartment, but Matthews is 
probably showing her the cafeteria and mouthing off about his damn poetry. 
Wonder who she is?" 

"Hey, she couldn't be your new biology teacher, could she?" wondered 
Flanigan hopefully. 

"Sure, sure, can you see the Board of Education sending a piece of ass like 
that into this place? Those kids would murder her the second day!" Hanson 
threw his big body back into his easy chair and put the can of beer up to 
his lips. "And anyway, what would she be doing with Matthews? He's in the 
English Department." 

"No idea, chum. But, man, what a body! What's Matthews got that I haven't 
got more of?" complained the science teacher bitterly. 

"The little queer! As if he'd know what to do with a broad like that!" 
grumbled Hanson. 

"I'll drink to that," said Flanigan. 

* * * 

Actually, the two young teachers did not make a bad looking couple as they 
paced through the empty halls of Kensington Central High School, their 
footsteps echoing behind them as they walked. Philip Matthews was clearly no 
heroic muscleman, but a careful second glance informed the observer clearly 
that he was not precisely a ninety-seven pound weakling either, despite his 
thick glasses and absent-minded studious look. His features were regular 
despite a broken nose, and he talked well, gesticulating frequently with his 
hands as he explained to the newcomer what the real problems at Kensington 
were, leading her from the library down to the student cafeteria. 

To an inexperienced eye, Miss Kathleen Barton seemed at first to be merely a 
youngish version of the standard high school biology teacher. She was 
slender even to the point of being a little frail. Her clothes were as 
squarely conservative as the hideous black horn-rimmed glasses she wore. Her 
long brown hair swept back severely, the young woman nodded as she listened 
to Phil Matthew's explanations, her intelligent brown eyes darting actively 
around her as she surveyed for the first time the school in which the school 
board had decided she would teach. 

But a second glance at the lovely brunette teacher would tell a different 
story altogether. Without her glasses and with another hair-do, any man on 
earth would have found her face extremely attractive, but his gaze would 
soon have ventured farther down to discover that her old-maidish clothing 
did an inadequate job of concealing a body which was little short of 
fantastic. Despite having been anchored down by the most robust brassiere 
she could find. Miss Barton's full sensuous breasts swayed provocatively as 
she walked, and there was no way of disguising the fact that they were 
unusually large and high-set for her slender curvaceous frame. Hanging 
unfashionably to her knees, her skirt made a valiant effort at concealing 
the fact that her legs belonged on the cover of a glamour magazine. There 
seems to be an inexorable law of nature which insists that women who are 
pleasantly big in front must inevitably be unpleasantly big behind, but 
Kathy Barton seemed to be a striking exception to this rule, a fact that not 
even the serious-minded Philip Matthews could overlook. 

"Yes, I can see you have some very difficult problems," Miss Barton was 
saying as the two teachers surveyed the gigantic but empty cafeteria. "I 
would certainly hate the idea of having a policeman standing at the back of 
my classroom, but I honestly don't know what I'd do if there was trouble . . 
. " 

"Well, practically speaking, there's a buzzer under your desk which you can 
press if things should get out of hand," Phil reminded her. "It rings in the 
principal's office and theoretically anyone there is supposed to come 
running to your assistance, I've seldom come up against anything I couldn't 
more or less handle, but I'm not going to pretend to you that every class I 
teach is a huge success. Pushing poetry at these kids isn't the easiest 
thing in the world. Half of them can't even speak English." 

"Oh golly, I love poetry," enthused Kathy, frankly happy to find a fellow 
teacher on the faculty who seemed bright and interesting. Kensington had a 
terrible reputation among the city's secondary schools, and she had heard as 
a student that most of the teachers employed there were people barely 
qualified to hold their jobs who stayed on simply because they could not 
find positions anywhere else. The school was located smack in the middle of 
one of the largest and most violent slums to be found anywhere in the 
Western Hemisphere,, and every social problem which existed anywhere 
positively flourished at Kensington. According to what Phil Matthews had 
told her, some students were already drug addicts; pregnancies and abortions 
among female students were routine; prostitution and homosexuality were both 
rampant, and racial problems caused violence on an every day basis. Since 
she had finished college on a full tuition scholarship, Kathy Barton had 
been obligated under the terms of her contract with the city to teach for at 
least one year wherever the school board decided she was most needed. And it 
happened that there was a vacancy in the Biology Department here at 
Kensington, so she had obediently reported for duty. But she was not happy 
about it. 

"Speaking about the principal," she inquired, not knowing exactly how 
sensitive a question this was. "What kind of man is Mr. Parsons?" 

Phil Matthews hesitated for a moment before replying, apparently not yet 
sure just how far this new young teacher could be trusted. She seemed 
intelligent and anxious to do a good job as a teacher, but on the other hand 
she was barely older than some of the students; in any event, she was far 
too frail and inexperienced to be teaching in a cesspool like Kensington 
where some of the older boys had already done time in the state prison. But 
ultimately he decided that she deserved an honest answer. 

"Mr. Parsons and I are not in agreement about much of anything," he 
confessed frankly. "I've never been sure exactly what he does all day except 
sit in his air-conditioned office, keep anybody .like me from looking at the 
school's accounts, and send for the cops whenever there's trouble. If 
anybody runs the school, it's your boss, Mark Hanson." 

"Mr. Hanson?" replied the young woman in surprise. "Why is he my boss? I 
thought he was the ex-football player in charge of physical education and 
coaching the football team." 

"That's precisely what he does do," answered Matthews bitterly, "but he is 
also head of the 

Biology Department and your boss, although he doesn't know much of anything 
about the subject and never teaches any of the classes. Three years ago, 
some genius decided that gym had to be part of some academic department and 
so it wound up under Biology. There's another rule which says that the 
senior teacher in every department is the chairman, and Hanson's been around 
longer than anyone else, so he became the chairman. I once made myself 
unpopular at a faculty meeting by opposing it, but with both Parsons and 
Hanson against me, there wasn't much to be done. Well, anyway, this is the 
cafeteria. Let's see what else I should show you . . . we've looked at the 
library . . . " 

"Of course, I'll want to spend a little more time there tomorrow," Kathy put 
in. "I need to see exactly what's available for my students in Biology." 

"You'll find there aren't many books there on much of anything. We seem to 
have all the money we need for football equipment, but try to get a couple 
of bucks out of Mr. Parsons for anything as dull as a textbook and you'll 
have a real argument on your hands. Come on, I'll show you the gymnasium. We 
may not have many books in our library, and the Chairman of the Biology 
Department may not know a chromosome from a mongoose, but we have one hell 
of a good gym, thanks to Mark Hanson and our marvelous championship football 
team." 

"Tell me, why do you stay here? You could get a job someplace else, couldn't 
you?" asked the girl as they walked down the staircase towards the gym. 

"Sure," he responded. "In fact, I teach a night course in poetry at the 
college downtown, and they've offered to hire me as an Assistant Professor 
of English on their regular staff. I've been thinking about accepting, but 
somehow I feel that there's a job to be done here. The reason why Kensington 
is in the rotten shape it's in is because most competent people won't work 
here and the few good teachers we do get like yourself leave as soon as they 
possibly can. Just like you will as soon as your contract expires." 

"Well, I don't know that's true," responded Kathy, a little hurt by the 
blunt accusation. "I might find there's a job for me here as well. I took a 
course in teaching underprivileged children once." 

"Well, you're going to need everything you've got, Miss Barton," the English 
teacher told her sincerely. "Someone as attractive as you are is going to 
have problems with the older boys . . . Anyway, this is the gym. Mr. 
Hanson's Paradise." 

"Well, it looks like every other gym I ever saw . . . " She paused, a look 
of concern crossing her face. "What was that noise?" 

"It sounded like a girl," answered Phil Matthews, his body going rigid at 
the high anguished scream of a young female voice. "A girl who's being hurt. 
Damn, I bet all the cops have gone off duty . . . " 

"It came from in there," cried Kathy urgently. "Come on, shouldn't we see 
what's happening?" 

"That's the woman's locker room," replied 

Matthews dubiously, taking a few hesitant steps in that direction as Kathy 
Barton tugged on his arm. "Maybe we should go for help . . . " 

"Well, you do what you want!" the young woman flared at him, angered at his 
reluctance to take some action. "I'm going to see what's happening in 
there!" 

Aware that Matthews was a few steps behind her, Kathy hurried to the door, 
hearing a girl's voice groaning inside, and now totally sure that she was 
being abused in some fashion. Her hand was on the door knob when Matthews 
caught up with her. 

"Wait a minute," he whispered. "If there's some rough stuff going on in 
there, let's be a little cautious and look before we leap." 

It struck Kathy as a little cowardly to be so careful under the 
circumstances, but she decided that Phil Matthews had more experience in 
these matters and stepped submissively aside while he cautiously and 
silently opened the door to the locker room. The scene which met their eyes 
stunned the two of them into immobility. 

There were two men and one young girl in the locker room, all three of them 
naked, and no one seemed to be aware of the presence of the two teachers 
half-hidden behind the door. The girl lay helplessly on the floor, a nasty 
bruise along one side of her face as if she had just been struck, a thin 
trickle of blood coming from her cracked lip, and she was cowering 
helplessly beneath a tall black-haired man who stood threateningly over her, 
her hands upraised as if she were pleading for mercy. 

"Come on, baby, up on your knees," the young man smiled menacingly down at 
her. "I want to see those sweet lips of yours go to work." 

"That's it, Bud," said the other student, a huge muscleman with a knife scar 
on his face. "And when she's through with you, I got something here for her, 
too." 

Kathy's frightened eyes swept over the man called Bud, fear settling in deep 
as she realized that this was more trouble than she had bargained for. He 
was well over six foot in height and burly, like a wrestler or a 
professional football player, but he was obviously only in his early 
twenties, about her own age, and the English he used was precise and 
well-pronounced. Could this possibly be a student? 

"Jus' don't hit me, Bud," the tormented adolescent girl pleaded, getting 
slowly to her knees as ordered. "I'll do anything you want if you don't hurt 
me." 

As the young girl spoke, Kathy's eyes switched momentarily to her nakedly 
glistening body. Her taut, well tanned skin was still wet, and it was clear 
that the two thugs had surprised her coming out of the shower, stealing into 
the girl's locker room after the other students had left the premises for 
the day. She was very young, probably no more than fifteen, but her body was 
already mature and well-developed, and her two ripely succulent breasts 
protruded sharply from her chest like two firm little pears. Below, her 
waist was narrow and sensual, spreading gracefully into full womanly hips. 
Her brown skin indicated that she was Latin in ancestry, the type of female 
who reaches the peak of her beauty in her mid-teens. In her black eyes there 
was both anger and fear, in about equal proportions, but it seemed obvious 
that she was helpless in the hands of these two nakedly lusting monsters. 

It was also uncomfortably clear to Kathy that she and Phil Matthews were not 
really enough to tip the scales in the girl's favor. Matthews was about 
thirty and probably weighed one hundred and forty pounds or so, but did not 
look like the type to tackle two heavy-weights like these. For a moment, 
there seemed to be nothing much they could do, and Kathy felt the other 
teacher's arm slip protectively around her as the two of them huddled 
fearfully behind the door, waiting to see what would happen next. 

The teenage girl was groveling at the feet of the man called Bud, a 
horrified shudder running through her nakedly abused body as she realized 
what they were going to make her do. The man's hands snaked down crudely, 
invading the young girl's soft dark hair, and he pulled her roughly up into 
a kneeling position, her trembling lips only inches away from the 
monstrously long pole of flesh which jutted out from his groin. The 
terrified girl grimaced at the sight, but the young thug gave her no 
opportunity to voice any further complaints as he took the warm moist head 
of his cock and rubbed it lewdly around the edges of her trembling lips. 

"You know what to do, girlie, and don't pretend you don't," Bud hissed at 
her, a callous smile spreading over his broad handsome face as he looked 
down at the helpless female crouched so fearfully at his feet. "Get that 
mouth open and start sucking before I slap the shit out of you." 

Kathy gripped Phil's hand urgently, but the other school teacher restrained 
her, indicating by his behavior that she was to stay where she was and not 
move. Fascination battled with fright within the young teacher's mind as she 
watched the student girl slowly comply with Bud's criminal demands, her 
glistening red lips dropping hopelessly open in submissive obedience. With a 
brutal chuckle, the young man flicked his hips expertly forward, ramming his 
thick bulbous instrument directly into the unnatural sanctuary of her mouth. 
The girl gurgled and choked a little as she tried to adjust to this new and 
depraved presence in her mouth, instinctively closing her ovaled red lips 
around the man's rigid shaft. 

In her limited sexual experience, Kathy Barton had heard talk of this 
bizarre and unnatural sex act, but she had never before actually witnessed 
it, and she shivered with a strange combination of indignation and 
excitement watching the subjugated teenager slave over the man's jutting 
penis, using her tongue to lash back and forth across the moist, plum 
colored cock-head. 

"Come on, kid, we ain't got all day. Start sucking. Yeh . . . that's it. 
Harder now," snarled Bud, seizing the submissively sucking student by her 
long black hair and thrusting even more powerfully into her bobbing head. 
The two observers hidden behind the door could see the girl's cheeks 
hollowing in abruptly as she struggled to obey this depraved new order, the 
man's hips now beginning to thrust back and forth wildly as he moaned one 
obscene phrase after another, exciting himself more and more by the minute 
as he fucked savagely into her ovaled little mouth. 

Kathy Barton was several years past losing her virginity and, having slept 
with two boys during her college days, she considered herself a very modern 
young lady as far as sex was concerned, but this erotically bizarre scene 
was a long way out of her league and she found her body trembling furiously 
as she watched. For one thing, nothing in her own private experience had 
prepared her for a penis as large as the one she was seeing before her now. 
Bud's long thick cock seemed enormous, and Kathy caught herself imagining 
what it would feel like to have something as big as that sliding obscenely 
back and forth along the surface of her tongue. To her surprise, the thought 
of being vilely abused in this perverted fashion was almost as exciting as 
it was repelling, and she wished desperately that fate had not made her a 
witness to this degenerate spectacle. 

The other student, whom Kathy had mentally named, "Scarface," had now moved 
in close behind the wildly sucking adolescent girl, unable to hold himself 
back any longer. His own cock was thick and rigid with obvious sexual frenzy 
as his hands roamed lewdly over the tortured teenager's splendid young body, 
paying special homage to the tightly clenched cheeks of her smooth round 
buttocks. While his colleague fucked brutally in and out of the girl's 
tormented mouth, "Scarface" amused himself by poking and prodding up between 
her legs, tugging at the small dark tufts of pussy hair, and allowing his 
idle fingers to stray lasciviously into the enticing crevice of her vagina. 

With a sudden shock, Kathy realized that the captive teenager was now doing 
her level best to please Bud, sucking away as if her life depended upon it, 
the strained features of her pretty young face bobbing violently up and down 
as she struggled to suck him dry. Bud groaned and gyrated above her like a 
king in ecstasy, sputtering obscenity after obscenity down on the girl's 
nakedly squirming young body, while "Scarface" entertained himself with her 
soft pliant flesh running his lips vilely down over the yielding half-moons 
of her buttocks, his thick hungry tongue washing lewdly over her trembling 
ass-cheeks. 

"What should we do?" whispered Kathy desperately, seeing that in another 
minute or two, Bud would begin spewing his obscenely ejaculating cum down 
into the girl's helpless throat, and knowing that they would have to act 
quickly if they were going to spare the trembling young student from the 
ultimate humiliation of having her mouth used as a repository for the man's 
vile sperm. 

"Nothing," Matthews murmured in an undertone. "Those two are capable of 
anything . . . we'd better try to sneak away . . . " 

But Kathy Barton was outraged at the idea of another woman being abused in 
this degenerate fashion, and she was having none of this timidity. Suddenly 
breaking free of Matthews's hold on her, she stalked boldly into the room. 
If these were students, then she had a right and a duty to stop them! 
Certainly they would not dare raise a hand against a teacher . . . 

"All right, stop that immediately!" she shouted, trying to make her voice 
firm and authoritative, but dismayed to hear it come out sounding squeaky 
and hesitant. 

"Who the fuck are you?" gasped Bud in amazement, stopping what he was doing 
out of sheer astonishment, but making no move to withdraw his thick bulging 
cock from the young girl's tormented mouth. 

"I am Miss Barton," announced Kathy with all the dignity she could muster, 
but realizing that the mere mention of her name was un-likely to have any 
particular effect upon him and wondering why Phil Matthews was not backing 
her up with his masculine authority. Or had he fled in terror, the 
contemptible weakling! 

She looked around quickly, half-expecting to find herself alone, but 
Matthews had not run away, although it was clear from the expression on his 
face that he would prefer to be somewhere else. 

"Fellas, you know better than to pull a stunt like that," Phil began lamely, 
but Bud cut him off quickly, yanking himself free of the terrorized girl and 
striding boldly towards the two teachers, his saliva-coated cock still rigid 
and waving before him like a flag of battle. 

"Listen, Matthews," he snarled, "I don't know who this stupid dame is, but 
if you want to make anything out of this, you're going to find yourself in 
more trouble than you know how to handle . . . " 

"You filthy beast!" Kathy found herself screaming, nervously taking a few 
steps backwards as Bud advanced menacingly towards them. "You . . . you . . 
. I'll see you in jail . . . " 

"Matthews, who the fuck is this dizzy dame?" demanded the tall muscular 
young man, now more mystified than angered. 

"An excellent question," came the harsh strident voice of Mark Hanson as he 
strolled angrily into the locker room behind them, his presence only adding 
to the confusion. "I thought I heard noise down here!" 

For a moment, there was utter chaos. The ravaged young student girl was 
crawling nakedly around on the damp tile floor of the room searching 
desperately for her clothing, her perky young breasts swaying sensuously 
beneath her, while Bud and the other student alternated between shouting at 
Matthews and picking up their own discarded clothing in disgust. Phil 
Matthews seemed to be overwhelmed by the noise and threats of physical 
violence, backing into a corner and defending himself in a high-pitched 
voice while Kathy continued to shriek at Bud, assuring him that he was both 
a pig and a swine. 

"All right, everyone SHUT UP!" Hanson finally thundered. "Okay, lady, I know 
everybody else, but who in hell are you?" he asked as soon as the room 
subsided into silence. 

"I am Kathleen Barton," the young woman responded with as much dignity as 
she could summon up for the occasion, "the new biology teacher." 

"Well for Christ's sake, the Board of Education finally sent me a beauty 
queen!" the gym teacher grinned at her vulgarly. "But aren't you a little 
new around here to start enforcing discipline?" 

"Well, you have no idea what Mr. Matthews and I found when we walked in here 
a few minutes ago . . . " 

"Ah yeah, that raises another question. Matthews, what the hell were you 
doing in the girls' locker room? Getting tired of reading poetry?" 

"Now wait a minute, Mark," Phil Matthews rejoined weakly, "I was showing 
Miss Barton the school, and we heard a noise. And I'd like to know what 
these two male students were doing inhere!" 

"After the close of school hours, the gym belongs to members of the football 
team," responded Hanson bluntly. "They had every right to be here. Probably 
stopped in for a drink of water after working out. Right fellas?" 

"Yeah," chimed in Bud, seeing that Hanson was preparing to back him all the 
way. "We just wandered in for a drink of water, and found this chick coming 
out of the shower, and she starts screaming, and then these two come busting 
in . . . " 

Hanson turned coldly to face the sexually abused girl who had managed to 
cover most of her body and was now cowering timidly behind a locker. "Now 
you don't mean to tell me that these two first-string members of my varsity 
football team attacked you, do you? A very serious charge, I would say!" 

"No sir," the girl quavered, avoiding Kathy's eyes. "No, it was all a 
mistake, Mr. Hanson. They didn't bother me none. We were just fooling 
around." 

"Of course. I would guess that you misinterpreted what you saw. Miss Barton, 
and I'll have to ask you to be more cautious in the future. Also, I'd like 
to see you in my office at ten tomorrow for your class assignments." 

"But . . . but, tell him, Mr. Matthews," exclaimed the female teacher, 
unable to believe that the brutal attempted rape of a young defenseless 
young girl was simply going to be swept under the rug and forgotten. 

"It's no use," Matthews said in a defeated tone of voice. "He knows 
perfectly well what happened, and he's just decided that it didn't happen. 
In this place, a football player can do no wrong! Let's get out of here." 

"Better stick to poetry from now on, Phil!" called the gym teacher 
arrogantly while the two football players roared with laughter. Kathy Barton 
felt a humiliated flush sweeping over her cheeks, and the two teachers were 
half-way across the gym before she realized that she was still clinging 
desperatly to Phil Matthews' arm, her fragile body trembling like a leaf. 

CHAPTER TWO 

"Mr. Matthews, you may be a very good English teacher, but you are not the 
bravest man I have ever known." 

The two young teachers were sitting in a pleasant tea room across the street 
from the school, splitting a pot of tea, and Phil Matthews failed to react 
angrily to Kathleen barton's insulting comment. 

"No, I guess I'm probably not," he responded quietly, gazing intently into 
his tea cup as if he were looking amongst the tea leaves at the bottom for 
the answer to his questions. "Ever morning when I get out of bed, I have to 
sum up all the courage I own just to walk into that jungle of madness. It 
doesn't leave much courage left over for emergencies, but I have learned 
from painful experience what a couple of hefty footballs players can do to 
one skinny poet. I wasn't born with a crooked nose, you know," he added, 
tapping his slightly deviated septum with the tip of his finger. "This was a 
farewell present from one of my former students who objected to being given 
a failing grade in Junior English just because he never bothered to learn 
how to read." 

"I'm sorry," she apologized, now seeing the situation in a new light. This 
slender timid man had spent seven years teaching at Kensington; it must have 
taken some courage just to have survived. "It's just that seeing what those 
two brutes were doing to that poor innocent defenseless girl . . . " 

"Don't waste too much sympathy on her," remarked Matthews leaning back in 
his chair and lighting a cigarette. "The boys probably only slapped her 
around because she objected to doing it for free." 

"You mean . . . " 

"I mean she's undoubtedly done it before, Kathy. Don't be naive! At 
Kensington, the only virgins are on the faculty. These kids are thoroughly 
corrupted in every way by the time they finish eighth grade, and some of 
them are hardened criminals. Take Bud Swift for example." 

"You mean the one who was . . . you know . . . with that girl?" 

"Right, although I would expect a biologist to know the scientific name for 
what he was doing to her. Anyway, Swift is twenty-one and has already served 
two years in prison for armed robbery and assault. He was released on parole 
on the condition that he complete his high school education, which is why we 
have the pleasure of his company." 

"But.. . " Kathy sputtered indignantly, "the government has no right to send 
us their problems. Kensington is a school, not a reformatory!" 

"Well, in Bud's case, I'm glad they released him, although after today's 
episode, I don't know how much influence I'm going to be able to have on 
him. Pity, he was coming along so well. I even hoped to get him into the 
community college next September." 

"You mean, you think it's possible to teach English literature to a mug, a 
monster like him?" Kathy asked in dismay. 

"When Bud Swift reported in, we checked his I.Q., " Matthews reported 
quietly. "He tested out at 147, which is just short of the genius level. 
Having been born of a poor family or even being a criminal doesn't 
necessarily make a person stupid, Kathy. Although it can sure make you mean, 
which Bud certainly is. Some days though, in class, there are times when he 
seems consumed with interest, absolutely peppering you with one intelligent 
question after another. There are also days, unfortunately, when he disrupts 
the entire class. Well, you'll find all about Bud Swift soon enough. He's in 
your senior biology class." 

"What!" the girl almost came out of her seat with horror at the idea. "You 
mean I have to face him every day in class with both of us knowing about 
what happened?" 

"I'm afraid so," shrugged the English teacher helplessly. "Not much of 
anything we can do about it. Hanson's in charge of your class schedule." 

"Oh Phil," she moaned in despair. "I don't know if I can go through with 
this whole business. I've got to stay here for a year, and I know already I 
can't control people like Bud Swift. Why he's practically my age, and he 
must know ten times more about life than I do . . Oh, Christ! What can I 
do?" 

Phil Matthews gazed at her penetratingly for a few minutes, seriously 
considering her problem. He had realized from the moment he had first seen 
her that the students would walk all over her, particularly the older boys 
who would instantly see through her "school-marm" disguise and detect that 
underneath she was a perfectly gorgeous but very vulnerable young woman. 

"Okay, here's an idea which you can take or leave," he proposed to her 
frankly. "These are very sex-conscious young men, and as you noticed, some 
of them are almost as old as you are. If you walk in there dressed like your 
own grandmother, they'll all sense that you're trying to make yourself into 
something you're not. Why not try reverse psychology? Put on a miniskirt and 
a scoop-necked blouse and let them see you for exactly what you are: A 
sensationally beautiful young woman." 

"Thanks for all the compliments," responded the biology teacher acidly. "But 
that sounds like a recipe for getting me raped. I dressed up in my granny 
clothes, hoping the kids would think of me as their teacher and not a sex 
object." 

"Forget it! If a thirty year old confirmed bachelor like me can see through 
your little disguise, those hot pants eighteen year old kids are going to do 
the same thing in half the time. Your only hope is to dazzle them 
sufficiently so that they fall all over themselves trying to act like 
gentlemen. Of course, all the boys will be madly in love with you in a week, 
and you'll be propositioned, but I don't think we've gotten to the point 
where a woman teacher can be raped in class. As long as I or some other man 
escorts you out of the neighborhood every night, you should be okay. And 
just remember there's a buzzer under your desk. Touch it and two cops come 
in on the double!" 

"Oh God, I wish I were just a happy student again," the girl moaned 
miserably. "I'm scared already." 

"So am I. Come on, I'll run you home in my car." 

* * * 

Bud Swift back-pedaled skillfully as the junior varsity team managed to 
break through the varsity line in several places and come scrambling towards 
him. None of his pass receivers were in the clear as yet, and his 
fast-moving mind computed that he had only a second or two to make his play 
before the rushing guards nailed him. Feinting to his left, he threw a huge 
sophomore tackle off-balance, and then dodged agilely down the middle of the 
field, brutally stiff-arming a junior safety man who tried in vain to 
intercept him. From there on, it was child's play and as he sailed across 
the touchdown line, Coach Hanson blew the whistle signaling the end of 
football practice for the day. 

"You're a natural, kid," said the Phys. Ed. instructor, slapping his 
star-quarterback across his meaty shoulders as the two of them walked slowly 
towards the showers. "Play like that during the regular season, and you'll 
be picked up by a pro team the moment you're out of school." 

"I don't know, Mr. Hanson," the youth responded as he unbuckled his helmet 
and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. "Phil Matthews keeps saying he can get 
me into college next year, and I'm thinking about it." 

"Listen kid, don't pay any attention to that jerk unless you want to turn 
into a poetry-quoting jackass like him! You're twenty-one now, and if you 
even enroll in college, that's four more years down the drain as far as the 
pro-clubs are concerned. Who wants a twenty-six year old rookie? Nobody! 
Listen, forget about that little fink Matthews, and listen to a man who's 
played in the big leagues!" 

For one short year you played, Swift was thinking sarcastically, but he said 
nothing, understanding the reason behind Hanson's special hatred for Phil 
Matthews. Everybody in the school had heard by now about the scene which had 
occurred when Miss Barton had reported to him for her class assignments. To 
everyone's surprise, she had waltzed into school for her first day of 
teaching wearing a miniskirt which was just about as short as the dresses 
normally worn by the girls in class, and those long trimly shaped legs had 
really been worth looking at, not to mention her beautiful bouncing breasts 
which were partially revealed every time she bent over in her rather low-cut 
frilly blouse. 

Naturally, his masculine ego inflated to the bursting point, Mark Hanson had 
promptly decided that all of this was meant for him, and he had made a 
vulgar pass at her, kicking the door shut and putting one hand boldly on her 
sumptuously inviting breast while the other arm encircled her waist. A crash 
and an outraged cry of pain had been heard clearly in the hall and Hanson 
was now sporting a pair of dark sun glasses. Informed opinion among the 
students held that the sun glasses were intended to hide a black eye, but no 
one knew for sure, since the Physical Education teacher rarely left his 
office except for football practice. To make matters worse, the pretty young 
teacher had apparently taken a liking to "that little queer" Matthews, who 
waited for her each day after classes were finished and evidently took her 
home. 

"Hey, by the way," Hanson remarked suddenly, making an effort to seem 
nonchalant, "how is Miss Big-Tits making out? You're in her senior biology 
class aren't you?" 

"Yeah," responded the ex-convict, an image of the gorgeous new teacher 
floating tormentingly across his mind as he paused at the entrance to the 
showers. "Yeah, she's doing okay, I guess." 

"Huh? You mean nobody's fooled around with her yet?" asked Hanson in 
amazement. 

"Shit no, Mr. Hanson! Everybody just sits there and looks at her!" exclaimed 
the young man frankly. "It's a great class! She makes everything real 
interesting, and with a dame like that talking, who can help listening? I 
think I'll take another course in biology, if I can get into college." 

Hanson nodded, attempting to hide his irritation, watching as Swift trotted 
off the field. The coach spent another five minutes talking to a skinny 
junior varsity end who was complaining about aches and pains. Later, as 
Hanson walked toward the locker room, he began to feel irritated again. The 
situation with Kathy Barton was an entirely unexpected twist of events, and 
the football coach was not at all happy with the way things were going. As 
Mrs. Billings' replacement, he had expected some incompetent middle-aged 
female who would be nothing more or less than a bore and a nuisance, but the 
appearance of a desirable young woman like Miss Barton was upsetting the 
very delicate equilibrium on which Hanson depended to maintain his control 
over the school. The possibility of his getting any personal sex-pleasure 
out of her seemed to have gone out the window when her knuckles had crashed 
unexpectedly into his right eye a few days ago, and he knew that word of the 
incident had already leaked out to the students, lowering his prestige in 
the school. On top of that she had apparently managed to find a way of 
keeping her classes quiet and interested which deprived Hanson of any 
reasonable excuse for taking direct action against her. Worst of all, 
however, was the fact that she was better qualified scholastically than 
anyone else in the Biology Department, which could mean that she and 
Matthews would soon enough take it into their heads to try to replace him as 
the chairman of the Department. A departmental chairman had very little 
extra to do and was paid twelve hundred dollars a year above his regular 
salary for his services, and if the case went to the school board at the end 
of the year, he could very easily wind up working for Miss Barton instead of 
the other way around. 

Hanson himself had never quite finished college and if someone took a close 
look at the record, the Board of Education would be very-likely to give the 
chairmanship to someone who was really qualified as a biologist and knew how 
to teach the subject! In essence, it all came down to this: One way or 
another, she had to be sabotaged, and sabotaged fast. Phil Matthews had been 
quietly working against him for years now, and with this new and 
good-looking ally, who knew what damage could be done to his position. Even 
Bud Swift seemed to have been conquered. Kathy Barton had to be eliminated! 
But how? 

"Hi, Coach," came the greeting from the team as Hanson strolled into the 
locker room. A quick glance informed him that Bud Swift had already showered 
and left, no doubt off to the library to study biology or some such 
nonsense. 

"Well, boys, what do you think of that piece of ass the School Board sent 
us? Anybody had a whack at her yet?" 

"Ha! Fat chance one of us'd have," came the reply from one of the players. 
"If you ask me, Mr. Matthews is keeping her busy." 

"Now you're making me-laugh," chuckled Hanson, making an effort to seem 
jovial and disinterest. "Matthews wouldn't know what to do with a hot little 
bitch like that!" 

"Well, how 'bout you, Coach?" someone sniggered from the back of the room. 
"You know what to do with her?" 

"Shit, boys, your old coach is pushing forty. From what I hear that little 
gal-likes 'em young. Real young!" 

"Hey, no kidding?" 

"Yeah, a friend of mine teaches where she went to college," explained Hanson 
untruthfully. "He told me that she was putting out for high school guys even 
then. I figure that's why she signed on at Kensington in the first 
place.-likes a little rough 'n tumble too, from what I hear. Nearly got 
thrown out of college a year ago when they found her in bed with five guys 
at once." 

"No shit!" It was said in awe. 

"Well, of course you can't believe everything you hear about people," the 
coach philosophized, seeing the effect his words were having on this rough 
gang of hoodlums. "But from the way she dresses, I'd say she was begging for 
it!" 

The mattress was filthy, but the girl Marinda did not seem to mind. She had 
come to this abandoned school room before at Bud Swift's invitation and she 
would come again as often as he asked her. It bothered her a little to know 
that the other three members of the gang were sitting in the next room 
playing cards and gazing in every so often to see how their leader was 
making out, and it bothered her to know that the moment he was finished with 
her he would pull on a pair of jeans and walk away without a word, but she 
voiced no complaints. She was getting what she came for. 

"Oh God, that feels nice," she groaned as Bud threw his lean hardened body 
down on top of her, crushing her ripe young breasts flat against her chest 
and quickly dropping his torso down between her inviting, widely-stretched 
legs. Obediently, the girl raised her tender but experienced body up to 
receive the hotly throbbing penis as it came stabbing into the delicate 
elastic sheath of her well-educated little cunt. Marinda loved this moment, 
and she groaned with absolute delight as she felt the virile young gang 
leader thrust forward, sending his long hard cock all the way up into the 
wetly welcoming depths of her belly. 

Bud Swift closed his eyes, trying to imagine that instead of fucking the 
always available Marinda, he was really making love to Miss Kathleen Barton, 
and he started skewering rhythmically in and out of the warm wetness of her 
tight young cunt, bringing groan after groan to the naked teenager's lips as 
he pushed farther into her with every vicious stroke. But his imagination 
was not strong enough, and as he felt her legs crawling up on his back and 
her fingernails digging into the muscular broad flesh of his shoulders, he 
had to face the reality of the situation. This was just a broad, a little 
hot pants junior he had fucked dozens of times before and would surely fuck 
again, whenever he felt like it. 

Marinda always did and said precisely the same things during the two minutes 
it took her to have an orgasm, and he tried to remember how many times he 
had done this before. 

"Come on, Bud," called Ash from the next room! "You wanna get in this game 
or don't ya?" 

"Oh fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," Marinda was groaning, and Bud obliged, 
putting his strong hands beneath the girl's smoothly rounded buttocks and 
lifting her clear into the air as he pounded into her wetly fluttering cunt 
like a pile driver. 

"Ohhhhhhh, I'm cumming," she groaned dramatically as if this were the first 
orgasm in the history of mankind, locking her ankles over his shoulders the 
way she always did, presenting her hair-lined vaginal slit up for him to 
batter and abuse as he desired. 

Bud tried to concentrate on Miss Barton as he felt the great swirls of heat 
building up inexorably in his groin, informing him that his own climax was 
just around the corner, but the image of the new biology teacher refused to 
stick in his mind. He gasped suddenly as the hot sticky sperm suddenly 
started its mad dash from the innermost recesses of his body, gushing in hot 
thick waves into the girl's tightly palpitating little cunt, but the orgasm 
was all physical and there was no joy in it for him. His skin was moist with 
sweat and cum as he rolled off of her exhausted body, his face set and hard. 

"Hey, you wanna do it again, Bud?" she asked him pleadingly. 

"Nan, not now Marinda. I got a lot of things on my mind right now," he 
answered her dully. 

"Anything you want, baby," she pleaded, kneeling over him seductively, her 
hands reaching out to capture his slowly depleting cock, still wetly 
glistening from her own orgiastic juices. Smiling lecherously, the girl bent 
over his naked groin, her mouth slowly opening as she lowered her head to 
take him between her parted lips. "I know you like this." 

"Yeah, but not today," he told her flatly, pulling away from her nakedly 
inviting body. "I got things to think about and you should be doing your 
homework." Not looking at her anymore, Bud Swift pulled on his dungarees and 
shuffled out of the room. 

* * * 

"Look, I can get laid a hundred times a week if I want to," objected Bud, 
"and with no trouble at all. Why should I take a chance on getting my parole 
revoked by messing around with a teacher who's liable to scream for the 
cops?" 

The members of the gang looked at each other meaningfully, all wondering if 
their acknowledged leader was going soft on them. They were the three worst 
trouble-makers in the school, each of them with police records of one sort 
or another, but generally protected by Mark Hanson because they were also 
all members of Kensington's football team. There was Chubs, two hundred and 
fifty pounds of muscle and fat and an I.Q. of about 87, who stayed in school 
only because Hanson arranged for him to pass even if just barely all his 
courses so that he could continue to anchor down the center of Kensington's 
defensive line. Sprawled in back of him, a cigarette dangling limply from 
his thin vicious lips was Jose, a skinny, fast-moving end who could dodge 
around the opponent's defensive flank or hot-wire a car, both with the same 
split-second timing. And then there was the young man with the knife scar on 
his cheek, Ash, Bud's favorite pass receiver, who made his living by selling 
drugs and stayed in school merely because it gave him convenient access to 
his customers. 

"I think somebody's going soft in his old age," commented the drug peddler, 
looking challengingly at their leader. "Can't remember the last time you got 
scared of a little fun, Swifty, but I guess maybe you're gonna settle down 
and be a good boy now, eh. Old Matthews has got you by the balls and he's 
gonna make a college boy outta you. Right?" 

"Listen you punks," Bud snapped back at them, a sensitive nerve touched by 
Ash's accusation. "The day Bud Swift backs away from trouble is a day none 
of you will ever see. Got it?" 

"Then what's the problem?" argued Jose, a cruel, sadistic smile playing 
around his lips. "We ain't even taking no chances, are we? She won't get 
suspicious if you invite her across the street for a nice cuppa tea, and she 
ain't gonna think nothing of it when she sees old Chubs here behind the bar 
puttin' the pot on to boil." 

"You sure the stuff'll work?" questioned Bud suspiciously, looking around 
the room at his three cohorts. The young man was in mental agony, torn 
between two different worlds and now desperately uncertain where his 
loyalties lay. These were the kids he had grown up with. They had smoked 
marijuana together, stolen cars together, gotten arrested together, abused 
girls together, and he had always been their leader because he was the 
toughest, the strongest and the meanest. 

But now Phil Matthews was tempting him with other ideas, things he had never 
dreamed of before in his life; going to college, getting a serious job, 
perhaps as a teacher and maybe . . . just maybe making himself worthy to 
marry someone like Miss Kathleen Barton, not raping her on a filthy mattress 
in the corner of an abandoned schoolroom. 

Marrying her! 

"Why shouldn't it?" answered Ash quickly, interrupting Bud's thoughts. 
"Chubs'll put in enough to stone an elephant, and this stuff is almost 
tasteless. Come on, Bud baby, we'll have a ball!" 

Another image invaded the young man's mind, overpowering his idle daydreams 
of rising to a position of respectability in society. He was imagining the 
proud, high-breasted Miss Barton stretched out naked before him the way 
Marinda had been a few minutes before, perhaps down on her knees begging him 
for mercy. The quarterback's cock stirred restlessly in his pants as the 
fantasy floated by in his mind's eye, and he felt desire welling up inside 
of him too strongly to be resisted. Somehow, without his help, the boys had 
come up with an air-tight little scheme. The drug, the camera, the abandoned 
building, the chat over a cup of tea-it all went together like clockwork! 
And they wanted him to take the lead. If he backed out now, his reputation 
would be shot to pieces, and he could never command them again. It was now 
or never! And maybe it was the only way he would ever have Kathleen Barton! 

"Tomorrow afternoon, then," he said dully. "You going to swipe a car for the 
ride over?" 

"Natch," affirmed Jose. "Mr. Matthews's." 

* * * 

"So! I think you should have the basic facts about Charles Darwin in your 
heads by now," concluded Miss Barton, glancing covertly at her wristwatch 
and noting gratefully that it was only a minute or two before the last class 
of the week would be over. "Anyone who is interested in reading more about 
this fascinating scientist can look at his most famous book, The Origin of 
Species, or the Voyage of the Beagle, which is the story of a trip Charles 
Darwin took as a young man through the South Pacific. There are copies of 
the first book in the library, and anyone who is really interested in the 
second one may borrow my own copy if he promises to bring it back." As she 
spoke, Kathy noticed with interest that Bud Swift had made a careful note of 
this information on the corner of his pad, jotting down the names of both 
books, albeit misspelling, "Beagle." 

He's really interested, the young teacher thought happily as the bell 
informed her that her first week of teaching was finally over, and he is 
terribly bright! Imagine, having been in prison and growing up in this awful 
neighborhood, and he's still making wonderful progress! I wonder if we can 
possibly get him ready for college by next year? 

The room was filled with the noise of books being snapped shut and students 
eagerly exchanging weekend plans as the class filtered out of the room. Bud 
Swift stayed where he was, apparently glancing over the notes he had busily 
taken during her lecture and underlining certain words he wished to 
remember. Kathy sank down in her seat, weary after a full day of classes, 
and immensely relieved that her first week as a teacher in this "jungle" of 
a school had passed without incident. She had experienced a little 
difficulty in keeping order in some of her other classes, but in general the 
boys had behaved precisely as Phil Matthews had predicted they would, all 
trying to outdo one another to get the attention of this attractive new 
teacher. The senior biology class, which contained most of the football 
team, had turned out to be the best of all, since Bud Swift turned around in 
his seat and glared menacingly at anyone who so much as whispered while Miss 
Barton was talking, having apparently appointed himself her protector in an 
effort to make up for the dreadful impression he had made upon her five days 
earlier. 

It's true, she assured herself as she slowly gathered her books and papers 
together and prepared to go to her office where she normally met Phil 
Matthews after school for her ride home. He's really capable of making 
something out of his life! There's a good side and a bad side to his 
character, and Phil and I have got to concentrate on strengthening that good 
side! 

"Ah . . . excuse me, Miss Barton." 

Kathy looked up in alarm, realizing that the room was now empty except for 
the two of them, finding Bud Swift standing uneasily in front of her. 
Instinctively she reached beneath the desk, feeling for the button which 
would summon the police should they be needed. 

"Gee, don't call the cops, Miss Barton," he grinned, having detected her 
nervous gesture. "I just wanted to ask you a question about Charles Darwin." 

"Oh . . . I wasn't going to.. . " she stammered, now caught thoroughly off 
guard and embarrassed at having revealed her suspicions. "I was merely . . . 
frightened for a moment." 

"I guess I can understand that, Miss Barton," the young man said 
respectfully. "I mean, we didn't meet under the best of circumstances. I 
want you to know that me and Ash apologized to that girl and took her home. 
It was a crazy thing to do." 

"Well, I agree that it was crazy, but I'm not holding it against you, Bud," 
she managed to say, knowing that she was blushing and unable to do anything 
about it. "What was it that you wanted to know about Darwin?" 

"Well, I didn't quite understand what you said about sexual selectivity," 
the young man admitted. "I mean, why should a thing like that change the 
characteristics of a whole species?" 

In fact, she had not explained this aspect of Darwin's theory very well, 
since the moment she had used the word "sex" in class, all the girls had 
immediately started giggling and Kathy had hurriedly passed over that point, 
concentrating on the more colorful but less scientific aspects of the 
scientist's life. It was a fair question, but the answer was a little too 
complicated to give in a few minutes. She had all the time in the world, but 
she did not trust Bud Swift quite enough to let him tie her up in a long 
conversation while the rest of the school emptied out and the two patrolmen 
on duty returned to the station house. After all . . . 

"Listen, they like to get us students out of the building after the classes 
are over, and I'm not supposed to be here," he volunteered suddenly as if he 
were reading her mind. 'There's a tea house across the street where we could 
talk if you could possibly spare the time? I'd also like to borrow the book 
about the Voyage of the Beagle if you'd let me." 

Well, he really is interested she thought carefully, and the tea house is a 
very respectable place for a teacher to chat with a student; in fact, she 
and Philip Matthews had stopped in there a number of times and it was a 
clean, well lighted place run by two little old ladies. She would be 
perfectly safe there, and there was no question in her mind that this was a 
very interested student. If she were to turn off his questions now, he might 
lose that interest and an opportunity for improving his mind would be gone, 
possibly forever. 

"All right," she agreed after a moment's hesitation. "I'll meet you there in 
about ten minutes, okay? I have to run by my office for a moment." 

Bud nodded agreeably and disappeared while Kathy tucked her books under her 
arm and returned to her own office, hoping that the obnoxious Mark Hanson 
would not be hanging around. He had kept out of her way since she had 
blackened one of eyes the first day of classes, but she knew that the Phys. 
Ed. instructor would eventually launch his counter-attack, and she was 
waiting for the axe to fall. 

But the office was empty, and so she scribbled a quick note to Phil Matthews 
who normally picked her up after school, saying that she was meeting a 
student for a chat and would take a cab home that night. With the note 
neatly pinned to the door, she took her purse and left. 

* * * 

The tea house was really a very nice place considering the neighborhood it 
was located in and the fact that the waiter who brought them their cups of 
tea was an enormously big swarthy young man whom Kathy vaguely remembered 
having seen somewhere once before. Perhaps he's a student, she decided, 
although he doesn't seem terribly bright. Bud Swift seemed nervous for some 
reason, but the inexperienced young teacher decided that he was probably 
afraid that one of his fellow members of the football team would spot him in 
here drinking tea with a lady teacher and discussing something as 
intellectual as the theory of evolution, since Bud obviously still valued 
his reputation as a tough guy. 

Kathy laid a sheet of paper out on the table between them, finding that she 
could explain things better with a pencil in her hand, and sipped on the tea 
absent-mindedly as she told the eager young student about Darwin's early 
struggles with the Bishop who denounced his theories as atheistic, and going 
on to show precisely how the examination of fossils and living animals in 
various parts of the world had led the British scientist through trial and 
error to the conclusion that a process of natural selection partially based 
on sexual preferences had led to the development of the various species of 
animals which inhabit the world today, including mankind. 

"You mean that the strongest and toughest members of every species tend to 
take the best-looking females of that species, and this produces a gradual 
change?" he asked, obviously following her discussion very carefully: 

"Yes," she answered, pleased that he had understood a rather complicated 
concept so quickly. "The members of every species who are most equipped to 
survive in any given environment tend to be the ones, who succeed in 
breeding, which we call the survival of the fittest." 

Bud immediately followed with another keen question, and Kathy took a deep 
breath and launched into another detailed explanation, thinking as she 
talked that this week's teaching had taken more out of her physically than 
she would ever have imagined possible. She hoped that Bud would not think 
that she was giving him the brush-off, but she would simply have to excuse 
herself shortly and catch a cab to her apartment in order to relax for 
awhile. The tea was delicious and ought to be pepping her up, but instead 
she found her head spinning slightly, and for a few moments she felt 
positively nauseous . . . 

"Miss Barton! Miss Barton!" she heard him calling in alarm and she opened 
her eyes, realizing that she had somehow drifted off to a half-faint, 
half-sleep right in the middle of a sentence. There was something definitely 
wrong! She could scarcely see straight and the room seemed to be whirling . 
. . 

"I feel a little dizzy," she managed to stammer, embarrassed that this 
should happen to her right in the middle of a serious minded discussion. 

"You're real pale, Miss Barton," Bud assured her sincerely. "Shall I get a 
car and take you home?"- 

"Please . . . " but her voice failed her. Phil Matthews had warned her 
against letting any of the students know where she lived, but at the moment 
she felt quite helpless, and when a car appeared magically in front of the 
tea room, she hung onto Bud's muscular arm desperately as he helped her into 
the back seat. Everything seemed so strange. . . she had seen this car 
before . . . it belonged to Phil Matthews. . . but where was Phil?. . . The 
man behind the wheel looked familiar too, but she could not place him . . . 
he had a long nasty scar on the side of his cheek and as she was thinking 
about it the young teacher fell asleep . . . 

"How long is this stuff good for?" inquired Bud Swift placidly as he pushed 
the unconscious teacher's body down on the seat and covered her with a 
blanket. 

'Bout an hour," answered Ash, grinning back at his leader. 

"Cocaine's real good stuff for this kind of job. Let's get going before old 
Matthews discovers that his car and his girl friend are both missing." 

CHAPTER THREE 

Strangely enough, the first thing she noticed were the cracks in the ceiling 
and the fact that a large black spider with a heavy murderous body and eight 
long hairy legs was inching his way deliberately across an enormous, 
sinister web which stretched between two deep fissures in the plaster. There 
were little bundles covered with finely-woven spider thread in various parts 
of the web and as a biologist, Kathy knew precisely what they were. Flies, 
some of them still alive and wiggling desperately, had fallen accidentally 
into the web and become hopelessly entangled. With a taste for fresh food, 
the black spider had covered the struggling insects with a few layers of 
entangling web, holding them prisoner until lunchtime. 

The spider was dangling twelve feet directly above her and although Kathy 
knew that spiders were not in the practice of falling out of their webs, she 
crossed her arms defensively across her chest anyway, thinking how horrid it 
would be if the ugly, filthy insect dropped down upon her. It was then that 
she made the second discovery. She was naked! 

Abruptly her consciousness began to expand and the young school teacher 
shook her head, trying to break loose from her own mental cobwebs, and 
looked around her, attempting desperately to remember what had happened and 
how she had come to be lying stark naked on a dirty crumpled mattress in the 
corner of a deserted room. A schoolroom, she thought, seeing the dust-coated 
blackboard and the wild jumble of desks piled haphazardly in one corner. The 
plaster was falling off the walls, and what little light there was filtered 
in through cracks in a cardboard box which had been flattened out and nailed 
over the broken window to keep out the wind. In the distance, she could hear 
the dull murmur of traffic noise, and she guessed that it was early evening. 

Her head slowly clearing, she sat up unsteadily and looked down at herself. 
There seemed to be no bruises, but she was quite naked and her clothing was 
nowhere to be seen. Then there was a metallic click from the next room, and 
a man's voice spoke. 

"Shit, man, look at this one! That'd convince any judge in the world!" 

Her mind was still moderately clouded, but suddenly she remembered where she 
had heard that voice before even if the words made no sense to her. It was 
Bud Swift's friend and accomplice, the one with the scar on his face whom 
she had seen for the first time that dreadful day in the gym. 

"It'll do," commented Bud himself dryly. "Hey Ash, shouldn't she be waking 
up pretty soon? If you've killed that woman with one of your fucking drugs, 
I'll kill you . . . " 

"Be cool, friend," Ash replied, apparently delighted with his cleverness. 
"This is a case of better living through chemistry and she'll be waking up 
fresh as a daisy any minute now." 

With a shock, nearly all aspects of the situation became clear to the young 
teacher. Her fainting spell had not been a result of tiredness; she had 
obviously been drugged, brought to this abandoned school building and 
stripped naked for some reason. She had to get away! But how? She could 
hardly run down the street without her clothing. 

Oh yes, you can, she told herself grimly, getting to her feet. It's a whole 
lot better to suffer a little embarrassment than to take whatever those 
thugs have got in mind for you. Staggering from the after effects of the 
cocaine, she tiptoed to the cardboard-covered window and peaked out, her 
heart immediately falling as she saw that she was two stories above 
street-level. It was not a quarter of the city she recognized, but from the 
looks of the room, she guessed that she was somewhere in the heart of the 
slum. With the noise of the cars moving below her on the street, not even a 
scream would be heard and in a neighborhood like this screams tended to be 
ignored anyway. And the only way out was the door and the men who had 
kidnapped her were waiting on the other side! But how could they hope to get 
away with such a wild adventure? Of course, they could always do whatever 
they were going to do with her and kill her afterwards, to make sure there 
was no trouble with the police, and a shiver ran down the young woman's 
naked back as she recognized that this too was a possibility. But somehow, 
it seemed too heavy-handed, too cruel and ruthless even for someone like Bud 
Swift. 

"Hey, she's on her feet," came a voice from behind her, and the trapped 
biology teacher whirled to find herself confronted by Chubs, the massive 
waiter from the tea room who had drugged her cup. "Hot shit, she looks 
better wide awake than she did before!" 

"Get away from me!" Kathy shrieked, losing her head almost immediately as 
the others filed into the room. Chubs was the only one of the four who was 
not a member of her senior biology class, and she felt ridiculous about 
standing in front of her students naked and defenseless while they lounged 
against the wall callously laughing at her. 

"Man, look at then? tits shake," commented Jose lecherously. "Can't wait to 
get my teeth into those." 

"Remember what I said about not hurting her," snapped Bud Swift, exercising 
his command over the gang. "A little rough stuff is okay, but I don't want 
you birds leaving any marks." 

Kathy stood frozen by the cardboard-covered window, listening with stunned 
amazement as Bud Swift gave orders to his goons concerning what they could 
and could not do with her defenselessly naked body, and suddenly the anger 
broke through. Forgetting her lack of clothing, she stormed boldly towards 
the ex-convict, her eyes blazing with indignation. 

"Oh, that's very kind of you, Mr. Swift," she shouted at him sarcastically. 
"I suppose I'm to get down on my knees and thank you for your kindness?" 

"You'll be down on your knees, Barton," the gang leader snapped, "but you 
won't be thanking me for my kindness." 

"What do you intend to do?" she flared at him. 

"I should think a clever lady like you who's been to college and all would 
be able to figure that out for herself," Swift responded, now seeming a 
little embarrassed and avoiding her eyes. "I'm going to have a little fun 
with you, lady, and when I'm finished, my friends are going to have their 
little fun." 

"And then what? After you've raped me, I suppose I get thrown out the window 
while you miserable thugs go out the back door?" 

"No, baby," Bud said, almost smiling. "When we're finished, we put you in 
the car and drive you home. I imagine you'll sleep pretty soundly tonight 
after we get through with you." 

"And suppose I call the police?" Kathy snapped back, amazed at her own 
courage under these threatening circumstances, but relieved to know they 
were not contemplating murder as a way of silencing her. Or were they? 

"You call the police and tell them you were raped by Bud Swift," he laughed 
without humor. "Oh that would be groovy! First off, Miss Big Tits, the 
police already know Bud Swift pretty well, and they know if he does anything 
to bust up his parole, he goes back to prison for two more years, so it 
won't make too much sense to them that I would rape you and then drive you 
home so you could get me arrested and sent back to the tank. It's going to 
make even less sense to them when we produce a dozen witnesses who saw you 
walk in and out of that tea room with me, and then drive off with me in a 
car, your little head resting romantically on my shoulder. And then, on top 
of that, we've got a little ace in the hole that we won't tell you about 
just now. Pretty neat, huh? Think your boy friend Matthews would come up 
with something like this?" 

Kathy was very frightened, but her mind was functioning pretty well despite 
her fright and she followed the logic of what Swift was saying, remembering 
suddenly Phil's words about this murderous ex-convict having an I.Q. just 
short of the genius level. Everything he said so far made sense. The police 
might not believe her. But what was his "ace in the hole?" 

"And if you call the police, we probably come and kill you some dark night," 
put in Jose threateningly as he moved close to the trembling young woman, 
his hot Latin eyes sweeping lecherously over her exposed and voluptuous 
body. "Hey Bud, when we gonna get to work?" 

"Let me tell you something, Swift," she flared at him, backing slowly away 
as the gang advanced towards her with Chubs and Jose leading the way. 
"You've just thrown it all away! College, your future, the chance of getting 
out of this slum, everything! The big tough gang leader who rapes helpless 
women! And all you need are three assistants! Thug! Gangster!" 

"I listened real carefully when you talked about Darwin, lady," Swift shot 
back harshly. 

"The survival of the fittest, remember? The best males of any species have 
the right to take the most attractive females, right?" 

"Well, let me tell you something," she screamed at him, now virtually out of 
her mind with a combination of sheer panic and violent anger. "You may 
remember your biology, but you've never looked in the mirror! If a scum like 
you is the best male in our species, the human race is in trouble!" 

Bud Swift clenched his fists angrily, burning inside with frustration and a 
feeling of guilt he could not shake off. They had raped girls before, plenty 
of times, and kept them quiet afterwards with threats of violence, and he 
was sure that they could make her decide to keep her mouth shut too, but 
this was not turning out the way he wanted it. He had wanted to dominate her 
mentally as well as physically, and she was calling his bluff. She was 
telling him clearly that he could take her by force if he chose to, but the 
part of her that counted, the part he really wanted, was never going to be 
his. Never! The element of submission and subjugation was gone. It would 
just be another goddamn sexual wrestling match, and he already knew who 
would win. 

The gang was all around her now, anxious to get going and not understanding 
why their leader was putting up with all this lip from a helpless female. 
Swift sensed that if he failed to act soon, he would lose their respect 
forever. He had already destroyed his future as Matthews had pictured it for 
him, things like college and a respectable job and if he lost command of the 
gang, he would have lost everything. But right now for some reason he could 
not define and did not clearly understand, he did not want to take her by 
force. 

"What'er we waitin' for?" muttered Chubs, his enormous fat chest heaving 
with sexual excitement and ms hands already reaching out to touch the frail 
but heavy-breasted beauty they had captured. "I think that mouth should be 
good for somethin' else besides talkin'. " 

"Listen, you guys, soften her up for me," said Swift suddenly, backing away, 
his eyes evasive. "I'm going to take a walk around the block and . . . uh . 
. . see if I can score us some grass. Be more fun if we get a little 
stoned." 

I couldn't stop them now if I tried, he was telling himself as he slipped 
quickly out the door without waiting for anyone to voice an objection. But I 
don't want to see it. I've got to do some thinking! I should never have done 
this! 

"What's wrong with him?" wondered Jose, breaking the silence which 
unexpectedly filled the room as Swift's footsteps echoed off in the 
abandoned building. 

"Who gives a shit?" responded Ash roughly, stepping boldly forward so that 
he stood face to face with the nakedly shivering young woman. "With him 
gone, I'm in charge, and I want you guys to remember it was me who 
engineered this sweet little deal-not him!" 

Dumbly, Kathy backed away from the scar-faced football player, her mind now 
filling with hopelessly irrational panic. As long as Bud Swift was in the 
room, there was some reason to hope that she would be spared the pain and 
the humiliation of being raped brutally by four men. Whatever else he might 
be, Swift was at least a highly intelligent human being and she knew there 
were good sides to his character. But she had lost her head and handled the 
situation all wrong, somehow, and he had inexplicably walked out, leaving 
her in the merciless hands of these monsters! 

One look in Ash's eyes told her that there was nothing but criminal cruelty 
in him and it was useless to plead for mercy. Jose was just as bad and 
Chubs, from the look of him, seemed too stupid to act independently of the 
others. And she had heard the door click locked as Swift made his exit. 
There was no way out! 

But things were starting to happen, and there was no more time for trying to 
think her way out of the hopeless situation. Chubs and Jose had taken up 
positions on either side of her while Ash approached her frontally, slowly 
undoing the buttons on his Khaki shirt as he grinned lecherously down at her 
nakedly appealing body, exciting himself with the lust-provoking sight of 
her utter helplessness. He had listened to this haughty proud bitch lecture 
to him every day for a week now, her eyes darting away from his whenever 
they chanced to meet in the classroom. So she thought she was a million 
miles above him, did she? Well, they would fix that fast enough! A woman 
flat on her back with her legs in the air was just like any other cunt in 
the world. 

"Come on, sweet-ass," he prodded her obscenely. "Let's you and me take a 
walk over to the mattress and have ourselves some fun. 

Where's the bottle a' booze, Chubs? I feel like a short one before I get to 
work!" 

Chubs nodded and lumbered into the next room to fetch the bottle of whiskey 
while Kathy continued to back peddle, her eyes fixed on Ash's face as if she 
were a bird transfixed by a viper. The young hoodlum ambled steadily toward 
her, stripping off his clothes casually as he moved, an evilly depraved 
smile on his face as he enjoyed the teacher's obvious terror. There was a 
strong streak of the sadist in this man, and he crudely laughed out loud as 
her heels caught on the edge of the soiled mattress and she tumbled over 
backwards. 

"Hmmm, look at that nice little pussy," he said reaching out with one hand 
to stroke the soft" brown pubic hairs up between her legs. Kathy tried to 
draw away from him in repulsion, but she was boxed in against the wall with 
no more room to retreat, and her delicate inexperienced young body froze as 
his harshly calloused fingers invaded the most intimate part of her loins, 
one rude finger searching for the tightly-clenched orifice of her cunt. 

"Wow, she's tight boys," he commented to his leering companions as Chub 
obediently returned from the other room, the whiskey bottle in hand. "My 
poor little cock is gonna be wanderin' around in explored territory." 

The other two men settled themselves on the mattress around her as Ash used 
his one free hand to take a long drag on the whiskey, letting the alcohol 
gurgle in his throat as he swallowed. Then he passed the bottle to Jose, who 
seemed to be next on the pecking order. 

"Man, that's good stuff," Ash commented, his outstretched middle finger 
pushing its way again through the soft folds of pubic hair protecting the 
entrance to her vagina and massaging the delicate pink flesh of her cuntal 
lips until a groan of humiliation forced its way between her clenched teeth. 
"Nottin' I like better than drinkin' and screwin'. . . How 'bout you, 
teach?" 

"Give me some," she found herself pleading suddenly, seized by the reckless 
idea that this grotesque experience would somehow be easier if she could 
quickly get herself a little drunk or even better, knock herself out 
completely. The men laughed at her request, but Jose obligingly passed her 
the bottle, and she immediately tilted it back and swallowed as deeply as 
she could. Kathy Barton was not an experienced drinker, and the raw cheap 
whiskey burned all the way down, but she was determined to get the alcohol 
into her system despite the fact that she was gagging and choking on the 
potent liquid. 

"Man, that chick-likes booze as much as you do, Ash," commented Jose 
humorously as he removed the bottle from her trembling hands. 

"Yeah, now we're gonna see if she-likes screwing as much as I do! How 'bout 
it, teach? Feel like a little fucking? Huh?" 

Kathy tried to reply but no words would emerge from her whiskey-scorched 
throat, her head starting to reel immediately as the alcohol flooded into 
her bloodstream. If only she could black out or faint, she thought 
desperately. They could do whatever they liked if only I didn't have to be 
conscious. 

Without warning, Ash leaned forward, yanking his finger free of her tightly 
clasping vagina and used the same hand to slap her hard across the face. She 
recoiled from the stinging blow in time to see his other hand coming in at 
her from the other direction. It was too late to duck, and she took the full 
force of it across the side of her head, knocking her flat on her, stomach. 

"Teach, you like screwin' as much as drinkin', huh? How 'bout tellin' the 
boys here how much you'd like to gel fucked." 

Kathy bit her hp to keep from weeping and buried her face miserably in the 
mattress. Now it was starting and it would get much worse before it got 
better, assuming that it ever got better. In the meanwhile, she would be 
silent as long as she could. Then she felt Ash's hands on her naked buttocks 
and winced as his long sharp fingernails sank into the tender yielding 
flesh. 

"Seems to me we're gettin' the silent treatment, boys," he leered at his 
cohorts in crime. "How 'bout it, teach? A little fuckin' is just what you 
need, ain't it? Come on . . . tell us all about it." 

Kathy tried to deny him this cheap victory, gritting her teeth in pain as 
Ash's hands twisted and squeezed her sensitive ass-cheeks, bringing her real 
agony. Finally she could take it no longer, and a pain-filled groan escaped 
her lips. 

"I'm waitin' teach," he taunted her mercilessly. "Wouldn't wanna do anything 
against your will, and we'd kinda like to hear you say it, wouldn't we 
boys?" With that he twisted with all his might, bringing a scream of genuine 
agony to the young woman's pain-contorted face. 

"Oh please," she beseeched him, her dignity now a thing of the past in her 
desperate desire not to be hurt like that again. "Do whatever you want, but 
don't hurt me!" 

Grinning at his companions and realizing that he was already beginning to 
break down this proud beauty, Ash dug his talon-like fingernails in harder 
and harder as he spoke, and he felt a sudden fluid warmth as he finally 
punctured her skin and the blood began to seep out. 

'Tell me what you really want, teach," he urged her obscenely. 'Tell us how 
you'd like to be fucked good and proper." 

Kathy could stand it no longer. If they absolutely had to hear her use their 
favorite dirty word, why suffer for it? 

"All right," she spat out violently. "Go ahead and fuck me! Fuck me all you 
want, but don't hurt me anymore." 

"Mighty happy to oblige, Ma'am," Ash responded with mock gallantry. 
"Anything to satisfy a lady, I always say. You guys hang onto her while I 
get these fucking pants off. Shit, my cock's so hard I dunno if I can manage 
it." He drew his hands away from the weeping teacher's buttocks and the 
toughs saw two circles of redness where his fingernails had dug into the 
soft naked flesh. 

"Hey, ya gonna stuff 'er now, Ash?" mumbled Chubs who obediently reached 
over and pinned Kathy's arms to the mattress as the naked girl stretched 
miserably on her stomach, her knees clenched together tightly and her face 
buried in the soiled material. 

"Yeah, it's about time we gave the teach here a few lessons in real biology, 
Kensington-style," responded the scar-faced young man as he slid his 
dungarees down off his muscular legs. While he undressed, Chubs and Jose 
both gloated over the prone and helpless woman, their hands roaming 
lustfully over her soft resilient flesh, their cruel merciless eyes gleaming 
in the half-light from the window. 

Kathy lay unresisting beneath them, her spirit now almost completely broken 
by the brutality to which she had been subjected. There was no sense in 
fighting it anymore. They were going to rape her, and there was no power in 
heaven or earth which could stop them from doing it. If she lived, possibly 
she could have them arrested, but it would be a hollow triumph, and at the 
moment the only thing she could hope for was survival. She had held onto her 
honor as long as it was possible, but now it was their ball game. Let them 
have their cheap little victory! The only way men like these could ever have 
her was by force! 

Chubs and Jose both watched intently as Ash finished stripping off his 
underwear and began crawling over the voluptuous teacher's body. They would 
have to wait their turns, naturally, but both hoodlums were intensely 
excited by the prospect of jamming their rigid, over-stimulated cocks into 
someone as desirable as the new biology teacher. These men all had been in 
bed with women before, naturally, but always with some scrawny, unwilling 
school girl, and none of them had ever laid eyes on anything as 
spectacularly sensual as Miss Kathleen Barton, and their eyes positively 
glowed with lustful anticipation. 

"Hold on now, boys," Ash announced, " 'cause I'm a-coming in." As he spoke, 
the gang's second in command stretched his fearfully muscular body over the 
naked back of the school teacher, the hardness of his eagerly pulsing cock 
slipping comfortably into the fleshy crevice between the half-moons of her 
buttocks. Despite her firm resolution to lie still and take what was coming, 
Kathy's body instinctively began to fight back, while Chubs and Jose pinned 
her fiercely to the fetid old mattress. But this was not the first woman Ash 
had ever violated, and he was a master of all the necessary techniques. 
Inserting his legs between hers, he pushed her knees apart with brute force 
until her thighs were widely separated. Then he reared up over her, his 
pole-like cock waving in front of him, and used the powerful muscles in his 
shoulders to lift her hips clear off the mattress. Kathy instinctively bent 
her body, trying to re-establish her equilibrium as she felt herself 
dangling in mid-air, but the moment her knees touched the mattress, Jose and 
Chubs quickly followed a muttered order from Ash, reaching down and seizing 
the backs of her knees so that she was trapped in this unnatural pose, her 
heavy swollen breasts crushed against the round surface of the mattress and 
her backside waving defenselessly up in the air. The position was worse than 
merely uncomfortable; it was humiliating, but the three men had her boxed in 
tightly from the rear on both sides, and she found to her dismay that she 
could hardly move a muscle. 

Her futile struggles lasted another half-minute, but the girl's frail body 
was already beginning to tire, and her muscles were absurdly weak in 
comparison to the enormous combined strength of the three football players. 

Now that his victim was in position for the sacrifice, Ash paused for a 
moment to enjoy the lust-stimulating sight of his biology teacher from the 
rear, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head with unsatisfied desire as he 
gazed at the smooth, lushly rounded moons of her buttocks. He had never had 
anything like this before he realized, no, never in his entire life, and 
this time he was not waiting impatiently in line for Bud Swift to knock the 
stuffings out of some poor girl. No, this time he was first, and he liked 
the feeling of power which came from standing at the head of the line. His 
penis was so hard it was almost physically painful, and his cum-filled" 
balls ached with desire, but he held back his natural impulse to go 
skewering brutally into the woman's helplessly-exposed vaginal opening. No, 
this was too good an opportunity! Before he came thrusting animalistically 
into her, he wanted to see her really squirming. He had conquered her body, 
but more than anything else in the world, he wanted to see her writhing and 
begging him for it, whether she wanted to or not.. . and that should be easy 
enough to do. 

For starters, he leaned forward and ran his lips coarsely down the spiny 
ridge of her back, working his way obscenely into the furrow between her 
gracefully curving buttocks. The girl responded by clenching her ass-cheeks 
together as tightly as she could in a vain attempt to hold him out, but Ash 
merely forced her buttocks apart with his muscular hands and then renewed 
his attack, his hot searing tongue washing lewdly over the puckered little 
brown hole of her anus. 

"Aahhhhhh!" Kathy grunted, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing 
her say anything, but unable to keep silent as this foul perversion was 
forced upon her helpless backside. 

But Ash had time to spare now that Bud was gone, and he deliberately 
tormented her with his mouth, dropping even farther down between her two 
widely-spread legs and lapping at her warmly scented pussy like a dog, his 
tongue lashing repeatedly over her hair-lined vaginal lips. His eyes 
glowing, he could see that the naked young teacher was involuntarily 
beginning to moisten as her body instinctively responded to his oral 
caresses. Using his fingers, he gently pried her apart, smelling the sweet 
odor of her delicate interior flesh. Kathy was breathing deeply but no 
longer crying out with pain, and Ash knew that this sudden switch from 
brutality to gentleness had thrown her completely off guard. He had won 
another skirmish, but the I main battle was still before them. 

Kathy wanted to groan, sensing somehow that it would relieve her feelings if 
she could make some kind of noise, but she held it all tensely within her, 
surprised by Ash's abrupt change of pace. She kept expecting to be hurt, and 
the hurt somehow never came. Instead there was a warm feather-like sensation 
up inside her hotly throbbing loins, a feeling which grew and grew as he 
played with her gently, his fingers softly probing. She had prepared her 
mind to fight off the worst pain a cruel sadistic man like Ash could inflict 
upon a helpless woman, but she was not at all ready for this. It was almost 
. . . the thought refused to form itself in her mind . . . Oh God! It was 
almost pleasure! She shivered, unable to control her body, and it felt as if 
there were a thousand delicate hands caressing her all at once, whipping her 
into a state of wanton excitement she wanted desperately to avoid. 

The men were still pinning her to the mattress, but as the minutes passed 
the position became less and less uncomfortable, and it occurred to her with 
a shock that this was how she had slept as a child, her head under the 
pillow and her fanny up in the air. She struggled to remind herself that she 
was being raped, forced against her will, but the thought became harder and 
harder to fix in her mind as the sex-driven student behind her worked his 
terrible magic upon her nakedly quivering cunt. 

Of course, she could not see what was going on herself, but Ash sensed 
quickly that things were very slowly beginning to go his way, feeling her 
ripely rounded ass-cheeks relax imperceptibly until she was no longer 
fighting him off and merely accepting what ever he chose to do to her. 
Trying to capitalize on his momentary advantage, the hoodlum crouched down 
between the nakedly kneeling teacher's widespread legs and pressed his face 
forward, jamming his open mouth hard against the hot churning wetness of her 
vagina slit. The girl gasped and squirmed uneasily at this new escalation of 
his assault, but she was still helpless even when he thrust his thick wet 
tongue lewdly into the depths of her warm throbbing cunt. 

The student smiled as he heard her gasp, feeling her vaginal passage flutter 
and palpitate under this depraved attack, contracting and expanding wildly 
against his marauding tongue as he orally fucked her in moaning submission. 
The involuntarily stimulated girl could no longer hold her aroused young 
body still; and groans began to escape from her lips as she gyrated her 
backside desperately in a futile effort to escape from this maddening tongue 
lashing. Ash was really turning on now, and he began to lap at her like an 
animal, grunting and muttering as he sucked and licked at the wet succulence 
of her tight little pussy, driving her farther and farther down the road to 
depravity he wanted her to take. 

"Hot shit!" exclaimed Jose nonchalantly relaxing his hold on her arm and 
shoulder. "Look at her ass moving into high gear! like that, don't ya, 
teach?" 

But the agonized young woman hardly heard these callously mocking words, 
realizing with despair that her own shamelessly aroused body was beginning 
to betray her no matter how hard she battled to establish some semblance of 
control over her wildly excited sexual emotions. Despite Mark Hanson's 
boldfaced lie about her being a woman who enjoyed going to bed with five men 
simultaneously, the truth of the matter was that Kathy had always been 
somewhat timid sexually, having slept with only two of her boy friends in 
college, but only after two long grueling courtships. With both of these 
fortunate young men she had experienced some mild sexual pleasure, but 
nothing they had been able to do for her could be remotely compared to the 
obscene sensations Ash was sending up and down her trembling spinal column 
at this moment. Suddenly a new and horrible fear sprang uninvited into her 
mind: Suppose she were to cum? It seemed impossible under the circumstances, 
but her body felt just the way it had felt on those few previous occasions 
in her life when she had been able to achieve an orgasm. If it happened now, 
how could she go to the police and accuse this man of rape? She would become 
the laughing stock of the school. No, she was not the first woman in the 
history of the world to be sexually assaulted, but women were supposed to 
resist to the death, and then endure the inevitable with gritted teeth. 
Unfortunately, she was not merely enduring the inevitable; she was taking 
pleasure in it her naked young body actually encouraging it and no one 
watching this bizarre erotic scene could have denied it. 

Ash moved carefully, sensing with his animal cunning that the young teacher 
was numb and highly vulnerable at this moment, but knowing that any abrupt 
violent move on his part would destroy the delicate mood which had been 
slowly created. Forcing apart the twin cheeks of her perfectly curved 
buttocks as he prepared to invade the wetly fluttering chasm of her cunt, 
the young criminal's eyes chanced to fall on the tiny puckered hole of her 
anus just above the moistness of her vagina. For a moment he trembled with 
the perverse desire to take her there. He had never done that to a woman 
before, and had always wanted to, but he craftily decided to wait until she 
had been thoroughly softened up by the others before proceeding to something 
as violent as sodomy. In the meantime, the blushing Jittle cunt he saw 
before him was inviting enough to content any man on earth! 

Kneeling confidently behind her, he slipped his knees as far up as possible 
between her trembling white thighs, using the thumb and forefinger of his 
right hand to guide the tip of his thick bulging penis through her velvety 
pussy hair, feeling the warm throbbing lips of her cunt close wetly over his 
cock-head as he slowly entered her. 

"Aaaggghhh!" he groaned, never in his life having felt anything quite as 
good as this, and for a moment he rested contentedly where he was, leaving 
just the hard bulbous tip of his cock lodged gently in the hotly pulsating 
entrance to her cunt, taking his time and enjoying every minute of it. Then 
he began to inch his way forward, exchanging lewd glances of triumph with 
Chubs and Jose as he angled his penis from side to side in an attempt to 
widen the narrow pussy opening, the hotly contracting walls of her vaginal 
depths pressing in with surprising strength around his thick shaft of hard 
flesh. 

"Oooohhh," Kathy moaned softly, hating herself for her weakness and wishing 
desperately that there was some way she could cause herself pain and avoid 
the rippling torrent of pleasure that this unwanted impalement was forcing 
upon her. But try as she might, there was no way of denying the fact that 
her naked young body was trembling like a fragile leaf shaken by the wind, 
and the anguished biology teacher found herself digging her fingernails into 
the soiled fabric of the mattress, clinging to it for dear life as Ash 
wormed his long hard cock farther and farther up into her belly from behind. 

"Come on, Ash, don't take all day," urged Jose impatiently. "You got another 
four inches to go there." The wiry slender football player was quickly going 
out of his mind with lusty anticipation and, with his one free hand, Kathy 
could see he was rubbing his own hardened cock inside of his pants, barely 
able to wait until his turn had arrived. 

"Dis ain't yer honeymoon," grumbled the corpulent Chubs, also growing 
impatient with the delay. 

"Fuck you guys," snarled Ash, making a great show of being angry at all of 
this gratuitous advice, but he knew his unruly followers would take matters 
into their own hands if he held them up any longer. Gulping a deep breath, 
he withdrew his lust-hardened cock a few inches and then violently stabbed 
forward, plunging all of the way into the submissively kneeling girl's cunt 
with one brutal stroke until the blood-engorged glans slammed into the 
sensitive tip of her cervix. 

"Aaaaggggghhhhhhhh," Kathy wailed, abruptly brought back to reality by this 
unexpected change of pace. Ash's attack was not precisely painful, but she 
groaned in dismay as she felt her thighs and buttocks being torn apart by 
the violence of his thrusting. "Oh, please stop," she begged him uselessly, 
but the youth hardly seemed to be hearing her now, and the girl's hopelessly 
skewered vagina felt as if it had suddenly been stuffed with the stout end 
of a baseball bat. She fought back, once again fully conscious of what was 
happening to her, clenching and contracting the muscles in her loins with 
all the power she could muster, but it was a lost cause from the beginning. 
The time for fighting back was now gone, and her futile struggles only 
seemed to excite the cruelly sadistic drug merchant even more, since every 
time she thrashed helplessly back and forth, the moist bands of her cuntal 
muscles pressed firmly against the invading shaft of his penis. This, in 
turn, aroused Ash even further, and the more excited he became, the bigger 
his iron-hard cock seemed to grow. To Kathy it felt like a long fat balloon, 
slowly filling with air and destined inevitably to burst if it did not rip 
her to pieces first. 

Chubs and Jose were rapidly losing control of themselves, and despite Ash's 
grunted commands to stay out of the way, Kathy could feel their hands 
swarming lasciviously over her, the dry agile fingers of Jose as he reached 
beneath her trapped body to torment the full flaccid globes of her swaying 
breasts, and the hotly sweating palms of the moronic Chubs, who was playing 
with her nakedly trembling buttocks. Seeing they were completely out of 
control, Ash gave up trying to give orders to his over-excited cohorts, 
concentrating his energies on fucking into her viciously, his hard muscular 
loins slapping noisily against the helplessly upturned twin half-moons of 
her buttocks. Meanwhile Chubs continued his investigations, practically 
crawling on top of the kneeling young teacher as his lewd fingers found 
their way to the tight puckering entrance to her unused little anus. 

"Shit, man," exclaimed the idiot. "She's tight." 

Kathy was half out of her mind with the torment by now, and had no idea why 
a grown man would take the trouble to play around with her rectum, and 
therefore the naive young school teacher was totally unprepared for what 
happened next. Chubs ignored a threatening look from Ash, continuing to 
probe the tightness of the girl's vainly resisting rectum until her anal 
muscles were tired and could fight back no longer. The moment the fat man 
sensed that her resistance was low, he pushed, digging his thick middle 
finger into her all the way to the hilt. 

"Hey, I got it in, fellas," the moron chuckled, taking a childish delight in 
this bizarre accomplishment. 

Kathy groaned in protest, but she was under attack from all directions now, 
and her mind was swirling in wild confusion. The feather-like titillation of 
a few minutes before had now disappeared in the face of this brutal dual 
invasion of her loins. The young biology teacher felt as if the two men 
between them were going to rip her up the middle, and there would be no need 
for them to throw her battered body out of the window to keep her silent 
when they had finished with her; the murder would be accomplished here and 
now, right on this mattress. They would surely kill her! 

Ash had no more breath for lewd comments or issuing orders to his fellow 
gang members since he was now putting all of his energy into every violent 
forward lunge, stuffing his massively hardened cock into her so deeply that 
he filled her to the bursting point with every stroke. Chub's marauding 
finger continued to roam around inside of the teacher's sorely abused 
rectum, every probe bringing a fresh cry of distress to her lips. 

"Man, I gotta get into this act," she heard Jose announce in a strangled, 
lust-filled voice. 

"Fer Christ sake!" exploded Ash, his words coming in short harsh pants as he 
labored. "Can't you guys wait yer turns?" 

"I want another minute, and I'm gonna shoot off in my pants!" complained 
Jose, fumbling wildly with the zipper on his pants and arranging his body so 
that his groin was next to the young woman's anguished face. Kathy tried 
desperately to turn away from him, but her head and shoulders were held down 
by the enormous weight of Chub's body, and she found she could not move a 
muscle. Her eyes were open wide in sudden terror as she watched the wiry 
Spanish-American thrust his pants down around his knees, exposing his long 
thin cock. This time she had a fairly precise idea of what he had in mind, 
and her stomach turned over in revulsion as she saw the hotly oozing 
droplets of semen clinging to the tip of his circumcised organ. 

She gamely tried to clamp her mouth shut tight as Jose began fingering her 
defiantly closed lips, but it was difficult since she was half suffocated by 
the weight of Chub's body and the violence of the pounding she was getting 
from Ash, and she was forced to gasp for breath through clenched teeth. But 
Jose knew exactly what he wanted, and he was a young man who was used to 
having his way. Yanking on her long brown hair, he rubbed his cock lewdly 
around the edges of her mouth, forcing it past her wetly parted lips and 
pushing against the ivory barrier of her teeth. As soon as he found himself 
in position, the little young football player pulled hard and unexpectedly 
on her hair. The girl's mouth shot open as she screamed with sudden pain, 
Jose's hips flicked forward, and the deed was done. The thin pulsating cock 
crashed past her teeth, and Kathy shuddered as she felt the long pole-like 
object slithering down her tongue towards the back of her throat, filling 
her mouth completely. 

Kathy could hear Ash's dry chuckle as he fucked ruthlessly into her hotly 
throbbing vagina from behind, but what was left of her mind was now almost 
completely concentrated on what was going on inside of the violated 
sanctuary of her mouth. Jose had inched his body even closer, almost 
smothering her as he persistently screwed his virile young cock in and out 
of her ovaled mouth, timing his brutal thrusts with Ash's rhythm so that 
both men penetrated her simultaneously while the mindless Chubs continued to 
fish around in her violently offended rectum, which he had now stretched 
sufficiently to add a second chubby finger to the first. Jose held her head 
rigidly between his hands, craftily never withdrawing his hotly pulsating 
cock far enough to give her the opportunity to shake him off, always leaving 
the pulsating tip just inside the warm moistness of her mouth. 

Kathy sensed her body and spirit growing weaker as the three powerful 
football players continued to pound and batter her in every foul way they 
could imagine, and for half a moment, she earnestly hoped she was going to 
faint. If she could only drop peacefully off into unconsciousness while they 
finished what they began, perhaps she would never wake up again, but at this 
point, what difference did it really make? She would never really be a 
decent self-respecting woman again. Even if she were not ruined physically 
for life, she was now hopelessly ruined in some other hard-to-define way, 
and she knew that for her, things would never again be quite the same. 

"Suck, you little bitch!" she heard Jose sputter at her, and she wearily 
opened her eyes to watch his long thin cock emerging from the nest of black 
pubic hair in his groin and then disappearing out of her field of vision as 
it pushed past her straining lips and into her furiously salivating mouth. 
She was not conscious of the precise moment when the feeling of submission 
and subjugation began to take hold of her dazzled consciousness, but all of 
a sudden she noticed that her lips were clamped obediently around the hard 
driving shaft of Jose's thrusting penis. She sucked and nibbled 
experimentally at first, sputtering a little and coughing as she adjusted to 
this depraved new sex act, reasoning to herself that the sooner she made him 
cum, the sooner this nightmare would be at an end. His heavy swinging balls 
were beating a tattoo against her defenseless chin, and she heard the young 
man chuckle contentedly as he realized that the haughty young biology 
teacher was slowly but surely giving in. They were winning and she was 
losing; there were no two ways about it! 

At first it had seemed to Ash that he would be able to go on fucking 
savagely into her tight little cunt all night long, but the sight of the 
abused girl sucking masochistically on Jose's saliva-coated cock had driven 
his excitement up to a new high, and he could feel the end coming, and 
coming fast. Trying to make it the best fuck of his entire life, he began 
skewering into her harder and quicker, mercilessly pounding his loins into 
the bruised flesh of her buttocks and pulling Chub's fingers out of the 
woman's offended anus so that he could have at least one end of her all to 
himself. Digging his fingers into the flaccid flesh of her smoothly modeled 
hips, he levered up over her and put every muscle in his body into the 
action until Kathy felt sure he was going to pile-drive her into pieces. He 
was really breathing hard now, muttering one foul obscenity after another as 
wildly erotic fantasies floated through her half-crazed mind. Then she 
moaned loudly and he felt the tight inner muscles of her hotly clasping 
pussy begin to ripple around his shaft, and he grinned in lewd triumph, 
knowing she was cumming. A second later, there was no doubt in anyone's mind 
because she began fucking back to him like a woman gone mad! She gurgled and 
gasped around Jose's cock and they saw her lips tighten willingly as she 
sucked with a lewd eagerness. 

Jose sensed what was happening and tried to keep pace with his leader, 
motivated by some vilely perverted thought that they should all three cum 
together, he and Ash both shooting their twin streams of hot sticky cum into 
her from both ends at precisely the same moment. The young woman's 
voluptuously convulsing body was nearly bent in two between the two powerful 
football players, and Kathy realized that she no longer really possessed a 
will of her own. She was just an object now, a sex toy to be battered and 
abused in any way her masters desired while her traitorous body exalted in a 
wanton joy. Chubs was crawling over her like a single-bodied swarm of ants, 
tickling her rose-tipped nipples and running his thick lips crazily over the 
exposed portions of her back as he impatiently waited his turn to fuck the 
nakedly kneeling teacher. 

Inside of Kathy's battered mouth there was a growing quantity of liquid, a 
pungent mixture of saliva and warm semen oozing steadily from Jose's 
over-stimulated cock. His hard tensed fingers were still entwined in her 
hair, and he was pulling her inexorably toward him, nearly breaking her neck 
in his desire to ram himself even farther down her throat, treating her 
defenseless face precisely as if it were merely another cunt into which he 
could fuck to his heart's content. The tormented girl could feel his hotly 
throbbing cock twisting around inside of her like some small animal with a 
life of its own, worming its way farther and farther down the back of her 
throat. 

It all finished very quickly. Jose suddenly muttered something 
unintelligible in Spanish, jerking forward as the warm wet waves of cum 
erupted from deep in his loins and began to spray furiously into the back of 
her throat. There was no time to think and no way of spitting the salty 
pungent liquid out, and she was faced with the dire choice of swallowing his 
hot spurting sperm or choking to death. Her basic human instinct for 
survival took over and she swallowed, gulping the searing white liquid down 
as fast as he spewed it into her. 

His orgasm seemed to go on forever, and she could hear him groaning almost 
pathetically above her as he emptied the contents of his loins into her 
choking, sputtering throat. 

She was barely through with one man when her second orgasm was upon her. 
Even as she was wailing out the message, "I'm cumming," Kathy heard a 
deep-voiced grunt behind her, and a moment later there was an explosion in 
her vagina like nothing she had ever experienced before. Ash collapsed over 
her back as the cum swept out of him and into her in one massive 
body-shaking wave after another. She was so lost in rapture that she didn't 
feel it when his fingernails went into her flesh. Unaccountably she found 
herself seeking to return Jose's deflated penis to her mouth and, having 
succeeded, began voraciously sucking him as Ash filled her wildly pulsating 
vagina with all the hot searing white cum in his body. 

For awhile she was only half-conscious. There was a little cool air sweeping 
over her nakedly perspiring body as the men rolled her over onto her back, 
her legs stretched widely apart and tiny rivulets of cum dripping from the 
corners of her mouth and out of her ravished young cunt. Then Chubs came on 
top of her, and for awhile things were very bad again until she found 
herself wildly responding to the fat man again. Just as he came, she passed 
out. The last thing she remembered seeing was the black hairy spider on the 
ceiling capturing another fly which had flown mistakenly into his web. For a 
moment she felt sorry for the fly, and then the lights went out. 

CHAPTER FOUR 

Ironically, Phil Matthews did not discover that his car was missing until 
much later that night. He was delayed after class by a student who had 
written a poem and wanted him to read it, so he perched on the edge of his 
desk while the school slowly emptied of its students, and scanned this new 
contribution to the world of English literature. The student, a pimple-faced 
boy of sixteen, stood nervously first on one foot and then on the other, 
sweating it out while he waited for. Mr. Matthews' opinion. 

It was terrible, possibly the worst poem Phil had ever read, and for a 
moment the dedicated young English teacher struggled with the impulse to 
tell the bald, unvarnished truth; the meter was off, the words were 
misspelled and the meaning unclear. But instead he smiled encouragingly and 
took the trouble to analyze the poem with his student, showing him gently 
how certain lines might be improved and correcting some of the badly spelled 
words. After all, he reasoned, when a Ken Central student writes a poem, any 
kind of poem, then we are making some kind of progress. Next year, maybe, 
this budding Shakespeare will write a mediocre poem, and the year after 
that, a good poem. And if that happens, this little session will have been 
worth the while. No matter what else happened, you could not turn off a sign 
of real interest from a student; it happened too rarely in a place like 
Kensington. 

"You staying late, Mr. Matthews?" said one of the policemen, sticking his 
head in the door of the classroom. "We're checking out now." 

"Fine, officer," responded the English teacher, actually a little grateful 
to be handed an excuse to postpone the rest of this discussion. Making an 
appointment to talk to the budding poet some more the following week, 
Matthews returned to his office and discovered the note on his door. 

He looked at it for a long time, swearing quietly under his breath. For one 
thing, Matthews considered that Miss Barton was still under his protection, 
and it irritated him not to know where she had gone, and with whom. Kathy 
was learning fast, but she still had that college-girl innocence about her, 
even though she had gotten through her first week better than anyone had 
ever expected. 

Come off it Matthews, he told himself severely. She's a big girl and old 
enough to look after herself! What's the real reason you're pissed off? You 
were planning to ask her for a date, weren't you? 

Matthews put a few books under his arm, locked his desk and shuffled down 
the empty echoing corridors, feeling more depressed than he had in years. 
Another empty weekend staring him in the face! He had taken the trouble to 
acquire two tickets for a concert on Saturday night, and about half-way 
through the concert, he would have proposed a picnic in the country for 
Sunday morning and . . . 

"Night, Mr. Matthews," called the other policeman who was preparing to lock 
the front door. 

"So long, Officer," Matthews responded, and he walked down the sidewalk 
despondently, wondering which student was having a chat with Kathy Burton. 
One of the girls, probably, wanting some information on birth control. Kathy 
would have to expect a lot of that kind of thing from now on. Now where the 
hell had he left the car? 

A thought stopped him in mid-step. Perhaps Kathy had taken her student over 
to the tea room? In fact, where else could they have gone? He could stroll 
in casually for a cup of tea and some of those cookies the old ladies made, 
and if Miss Barton just happened to be there, then maybe they could use 
those concert tickets after all. What a fool he had been not to have gotten 
her telephone number! But he had been too shy to ask for it. 

Matthews crossed the street, dodging through the five o'clock traffic and 
entered the tea room. One glance told him that he had been shot down again. 
The place was empty except for one of the little old ladies. 

"Ah, good evening, Mr. Matthews!" she called in her shrill old voice. "Just 
a moment, dear, I have the book right here." 

"What book?" questioned Matthews in confusion. Had he left a book here? 

"Miss Barton's Book," answered the old croon. "The one she left today when 
she had her fainting spell. Poor dear, I thought you'd come to get her 
book." 

"What's this about a fainting spell? 

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing to be alarmed about, Mr. Matthews. That nice 
young man seemed to be quite capable of handling the situation. I imagine he 
took her to a doctor." 

Matthews gritted his teeth with frustration, reminding himself not to shout. 

"Which nice young man?" 

"Oh, I don't know his name . . . dear me, he's such a handsome young man and 
he plays on the football team. My nephew, Chubs, knows him, but Chubs isn't 
here right now." 

Matthews nodded dumbly, took the book and wandered back out on the street, 
knowing that his weekend was now going to be more miserable than ever, since 
in addition to being lonely he was going to spend most of his time worrying 
about Kathleen Barton. The young English teacher had acquired a pleasant 
bachelor apartment in a much nicer section of town than this, but for some 
reason, he was not quite ready to go home. Almost no one at Ken Central knew 
this fact, but Phil Matthews had been born and raised less than a mile from 
the school in the worst section of the slum. Growing up in this harsh, 
brutal environment, he had learned to survive. Being thinner, smaller and 
shyer than the others, he had survived more often than not by taking to his 
heels and running for it whenever a nasty situation developed, and his 
classmates had long ago called him a coward, and he had accepted the label, 
staying off the streets at night when the trouble developed and ducking any 
possible confrontation with the criminal adolescent gangs who ruled the 
neighborhood. The Black Hawks, the Panthers, the Puerto Rican bunch, the 
Black gangs, he had ducked them all, staying home in the evenings with his 
books and studying hard enough to get himself a scholarship to a decent 
college. 

"Might as well be a teacher," his father had always grumbled. 'The kid ain't 
got the balls for anything else." 

But the old man had only been half-right. Matthews had finished college with 
brilliant marks, published a few poems, got his Master's degree, and then 
amazed everyone by applying for a teaching job in the worst school in the 
city, Kensington Central High, just because he thought there was a job to be 
done there. Maybe he was a coward; maybe not. Phil Matthews did not fit 
comfortably into any of the usual categories. 

"Dammit," he swore quietly, feeling the heal of early autumn start to gather 
in the crowded city. There had been a breeze in the afternoon, but it had 
died with the sunset, and the night would be pure agony for the people who 
lived in the Kensington slum. His own apartment, far away from here in the 
university district, was on the top floor, and would be cool and 
comfortable, but for some reason, he could not bring himself to forget about 
Miss Barton, find his car, and get out of this hell on earth. 

Should he really be worrying about Kathy's safety? Or was he merely angry 
and jealous because she had gone off with another man, a student at that? 
All right, he tried to reason with himself as he paced the littered and 
poorly lit streets in the gathering dusk, you're hung up on the girl, you 
can admit that much. But if Bud Swift had taken her off somewhere, 
especially while she was in a weakened condition . . . precisely how far 
could Bud Swift be trusted? The young ex-convict had come a long way, his 
scholastic work getting better and better, but he still had far too much of 
the slum punk mentality, and every so often, he gave into his baser 
instincts, the way he had that day in the gym. Of course, Kathy Barton was 
no teenager with loose morals, but if she was having fainting spells . . . 

There he was! Matthews stopped in his tracks, instinctively slipping into a 
doorway the way he had twenty years before as a kid whenever he saw a big 
bully on the street before him. Swift was walking slowly, a hundred feet 
ahead of him, his head down and apparently lost in thought. For a moment 
Phil Matthews debated his best course of action. Naturally, he could just 
rush up to the student and demand to know where Miss Barton was. It was the 
obvious thing to do. 

But something stopped him. He and Swift had both been born and raised in the 
slum, and there were some things which kids from the wrong side of the 
tracks just did not do. Swift was obviously going somewhere, and Matthews 
decided he would find out where before he took any direct action. Moving 
carefully, he worked his way down the street behind the meandering gang 
leader, always keeping a safe distance behind him in case Swift would happen 
to turn around. 

But the ex-convict seemed to be lost in thought, walking doggedly along 
without paying much attention to his surroundings, and Matthews was able to 
follow him undetected as he moved deeper and deeper into the slum, 
eventually arriving at a series of old apartment buildings which had been 
condemned by the city and were supposed to be torn down. The street lights 
had been smashed and the sidewalks were covered with broken glass and the 
only other occupants of the area were the occasional drunks who staggered 
through the gutter, or sprawled in darkened alleys. It was not a pleasant 
place to be once the sun had disappeared, and Matthews felt himself tremble 
with fear as he saw Swift move down a darkened alley, his movements now 
cat-like and confident. 

Allowing a few minutes to pass for the sake of safety, Matthews followed 
him, feeling his way along a damp wall into a courtyard. For a moment, he 
could see nothing, but gradually he determined that he was standing in what 
had once been a school playground. Up on the top floor of the old school 
building, he could see the unsteady flickering light from an oil lantern. At 
ground level, one door had been forced and Matthews assumed that Swift had 
entered there and was now making his way to the top floor. In the parking 
lot, there was only one car, and the English teacher tiptoed cautiously over 
to it, wondering why Swift had chosen to walk if he had an automobile at his 
disposal. 

It was his car! Matthews did a double-take and looked a second time, but 
there was no mistake about it, this was his own automobile, and peering in 
the window, he could barely make out the wires someone had used to hot-wire 
the vehicle and start it without needing the key. Very strange things were 
happening tonight: Kathy's disappearance, the theft of his car, the lantern 
on the top floor, Bud Swift's strange behavior . . . What did it all add up 
to? 

The answer came a split second later. High, high up above him there came the 
voice of a woman. It was a scream, at first faint and weak, and no one could 
have heard it on the street; but Phil Matthews heard it and knew what it 
meant. 

For a moment he froze, trying desperately to think clearly. First, he had to 
put down the impulse to dash up the stairs and try to stop whatever was 
going on; it was absurd! There was no way of telling how many men there were 
up there with Swift, and he could hardly expect to handle even Bud alone in 
a fair fight, much less a gang of Swift's thugs. Or he could call for the 
police, but this thought was even sillier. The police would probably take an 
hour to arrive and then trudge noisily up there with drawn guns, shooting at 
anything that moved and making enough racket to wake the dead. To dispose of 
the witness, the gang would toss Kathy out the nearest window and flee 
across the roof-tops, quickly losing themselves in the sullen slum night. 
And besides, people in the Ken Central district did not call the police to 
settle their differences. Little problems like this were worked out on a 
private basis, and Phil 

Matthews knew that he was going to have to handle this one alone. 

The English teacher took a deep breath in the dank, humid air of the 
courtyard, realizing that there were some fights a man could not run away 
from if he ever wished to call himself a man again. But this was a fight he 
had to win, and first he needed to balance the odds a little. He walked 
quietly out the alley and broke into a trot when he hit the street. 

CHAPTER FIVE 

Bud Swift took his time climbing the stairs, feeling the depression settle 
over him as he came closer and closer to the scene of his crime. There was 
no point in trying to excuse himself by thinking about the fact that the 
whole wild scheme was Ash's idea and that the others had all been solidly 
for it. He could have stood up to the gang of them and shouted them down, 
and if necessary, fought them down. But he had been weak and gone along with 
it, and now events were already taking place which would certainly be 
irreversible. There was no turning back. 

And naturally, they would get away with it. When they showed her the 
pictures, she would almost certainly not go to the police. Unfortunately she 
would also certainly hate him until the day she died. She might tell 
Matthews what had happened or she might be too ashamed, it was hard to 
predict, and it didn't make much difference at this point. 

Swift stopped on the top floor, listening to the ancient school building 
squeak and mutter to itself in the night. He lighted one of the marijuana 
cigarettes in the dark hallway, the momentary fleeting glow from his match 
illuminating the dusty chipped plaster and the sagging walls, and it 
occurred to him that the whole ramshackle structure just might collapse 
without warning, killing them all and ending his problems in an instant. He 
took a deep drag, feeling the narcotic filter into his bloodstream, and 
slowly climbed the last flight of stairs. 

Chubs raised himself on one elbow as the gang leader came in the door, 
looking at him stupidly while the other two punks slept peacefully in 
separate corners. There were two empty whiskey bottles on the floor, and 
Swift understood immediately what had happened. 

"Shoulda been here, Bud," muttered Chubs thickly, the sweat rolling across 
his massive fat-covered chest. "We all fucked her twice . . . greatest fuck 
any of us ever had!" And he rolled over on his back again, his mountainous 
belly protruding in the air, and went back to sleep. 

Sleep tight, buddies. Swift thought viciously as he walked through the outer 
room into the chamber where Kathleen Barton was imprisoned. And if you've 
hurt her, none of you will ever wake up again. No one will ever miss you. 
You'll all just disappear! 

The kerosene lantern was still flickering dimly in the corner throwing 
strange uncertain shadows over the room as the young hoodlum crossed the 
squeaking floor to the mattress where the girl lay quietly. He knelt down 
beside her still-naked body, feeling the old lust come rushing back over him 
again as he saw the bruises and black-and-blue marks on her flawlessly 
formed figure. Her eyes opened slowly as he gently touched her hair. 

"Phil?" she asked pleadingly. 

"No, it's Bud," he answered, suddenly hating the sound of his own name. How 
much better it would be in this moment to be Phil Matthews! 

"Oh," she replied quietly turning her head away almost as if she had 
suddenly lost interest in the conversation. All. this meant was more 
mistreatment and brutality. 

"Did they hurt you?" he asked softly, not knowing quite what else to say. It 
would be too stupid to ask her to forgive him at this stage of the game. 

"Oh, they were perfect gentlemen," she replied sarcastically, her voice weak 
and trembling with emotion, but Swift could tell that her spirit had not yet 
been really broken. She was still in there fighting. "I've never been raped 
so nicely before." 

There was a long silence. Swift could not think of anything else to say and 
so he remained quiet, stroking her long brown hair and letting his eyes 
wander over the exposed length and breadth of her magnificent naked body. 
God, she was beautiful! What should he do? She was hardly strong enough to 
give him much of a contest right now, and he could probably take her with 
complete ease. What was done was done, after all, and why should he let the 
opportunity pass? On the other hand.. . . 

"Water," she gasped, putting her hand to her throat. "Before you get down to 
doing what you came to do, would you show me what a nice little gentleman 
you are and give me a glass of water?" 

'There's no water," he muttered unhappily, amazed that she was still showing 
so much spunk. "If you want some whiskey . . . " 

"Anything. Just so long as it's liquid." 

It was strange, he thought as he obediently went into the next room and 
opened a fresh bottle of whiskey. She was his captive and she fully expected 
to be raped, and yet they were sitting together having this perfectly 
civilized conversation about water and whiskey. Next she would be asking him 
for ice cubes. How was it possible to rape a woman who was so cool? 

Kathy accepted the bottle without the slightest sign of gratefulness, 
immediately tilting it back and taking a long pull while she propped herself 
up on one elbow. She was aware, of course, that she was still perfectly 
naked, but after all that had happened, her maidenly modesty was hardly 
important. So he could see her bare, bruised breasts and her battered vagina 
with traces of three of his buddies' cum still clinging to her pubic hairs! 
So what? He was sitting there calmly watching her, and he would decide what 
would happen, not her. She had already tried threats and name-calling and it 
had gotten her nowhere. Pleading for mercy was useless. Why worry about how 
she ought to behave? Was there a book of etiquette on how the well-dressed 
woman conducts herself while being gang-banged? She could say what she 
wanted since nothing she said would make much difference. 

"And now I'll accept a cigarette," she told him boldly, looking him square 
in the face. If they were going to make brutal use of her body, they might 
as well keep her moderately happy in the meantime. 

"All I've got are these," admitted Swift uneasily, holding up the pack of 
drugged cigarettes. 

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to have purchased my brand she snapped, 
reaching for the pack, not realizing that the cigarettes were filled with 
half tobacco and half marijuana. 

"It's your funeral," he shrugged, lighting a match and touching it to the 
end of the reefer as she held it to her lips. 

Miss Barton dragged gratefully on the cigarette, noting immediately that the 
taste was pleasantly strange, but too battered and bruised to give the 
matter much thought at the moment. She expected that Bud Swift would start 
in on her right away, and thus found herself moderately surprised by his 
behavior. Surely he had not exposed himself to the danger of kidnapping her 
just so the three punks snoring in the next room could have some fun with 
her! He must have wanted her himself, and in fact all week she had felt his 
penetrating eyes from the back of the room watching her lustfully. She knew 
that he had wanted her and wanted her bad! Why then had he handed her over 
to his gang members and disappeared for the better part of an hour? If he 
wanted to rape her, why didn't he do it? There was nothing absolutely 
nothing to stop him! 

"I . . . I'm kinda sorry things worked out this way," he muttered, his eyes 
avoiding hers as he moved next to her on the couch. 

Kathy bit her lip and decided that it was better to say nothing. She had 
read somewhere about what the Army expected of its men when they were taken 
prisoner by the enemy in a war. You were allowed to give your name, rank and 
serial number, nothing more. She had no serial number to give and they 
already knew her name and rank, so there was no point in saying anything 
more. She had already sacrificed some of her dignity by accepting the 
whiskey and the cigarette, but under the circumstances, she felt she could 
be forgiven at least this much. But, from here on, she would practice total 
passive non-cooperation. And she was not going to get into a cozy little 
chat with him before he decided to take his clothing off and violate her 
already abused body. She had to hang onto some tiny molecule of her dignity 
and self-respect at all cost, and she was enormously greatful that Swift had 
not been present when the other three had raped her, hearing her moan and 
plead while Ash had tongue-fucked her half-way to an involuntary orgasm, and 
then finished the job until she had climaxed so powerfully that she had 
lapsed into unconsciousness. Oh God! How she had hated it.. . and loved the 
pleasure . . . 

But her head was spinning slightly and she felt too weak to remain propped 
up on her elbow, letting her body go slack and allowing her head to drop 
down on her arm. Everything seemed to have taken on an aura of unreality, 
the walls, the room, the chipping plaster, her world seemed to be mounted on 
huge silently turning wheels which were carrying her inexorably around in 
circles. The naked young school teacher struggled to regain control over her 
fading senses, but she had been fighting too long against so many things and 
now she was tired. It was all she could do to raise the cigarette hesitantly 
to her lips for one last deep drag before she felt Swift calmly removing it 
from between her fingers lest she burn herself or set the mattress on fire. 

Bud Swift sat quietly by the beautiful young woman's side and watched the 
marijuana take effect, realizing that he had never seen it hit anyone so 
hard and so fast before. It was funny stuff, he reminded himself 
philosophically. Some people could never get high, no matter how much they 
smoked, and other people went clear off into space after the first puff. 
Kathy Barton obviously belonged in the second category. There were some 
other things which were obvious as well: she had completely lost the will to 
resist, at least physically. Ash, Chubs and Jose had evidently mauled her 
half to death, and she was broken so far down now that she would not be able 
to lift a finger against him. And indeed, why should she? What could he 
possibly do that one of them had not already accomplished? She had obviously 
been raped several times, and very thoroughly. There was a partially-dried 
fleck of white sticky substance clinging to the soft skin of her cheeks 
which told him that not even her soft mouth had been spared. What was left 
for him to do? When you have already lost everything, you have nothing left 
to fear. 

He stroked the fine silken flesh of her shoulders carefully, curious to see 
if this timid approach would produce any reaction, if she would lash out at 
him verbally, telling him to keep his filthy hands to himself. She groaned 
slightly, pulling a few inches away, but nothing more. It had all been 
wrong, but there was no way to change it now. He wished he had not doped her 
up with the cigarette, desiring somehow to give her back her clothing, mix 
her a cup of undrugged tea, and sit her down some place respectable in order 
to explain everything. He would want to tell her what it had been like 
growing up in the Ken Central area, learning to fight with razor blades and 
broken bottles, running from the police and stealing cars, experimenting 
with drugs and tormenting teachers. He would want her to understand how it 
felt to hold a gun in his hand and fire a bullet into another human being, 
watch him die and then go for years wondering if the crime would ever be 
detected. 

And then, too, she would need to comprehend the sensations, the excitement 
involved in planning a robbery and actually pulling it off and thinking you 
had gotten away clean until the knock came suddenly at the door during the 
bad-dream hours of the night, and the tough detective from the police 
station quietly slipped handcuffs around your wrists while two patrolmen 
held their pistols to your stomach and led you away. If the marijuana were 
not dulling his brain and hers, he would try to make her feel what it felt 
like to stand before a judge and hear yourself described as a menace to 
society and listen to the chairman of the jury read off the sentence of five 
long years in the 

State Penitentiary. 

And there were other things as well. He would have to explain how he had 
felt when Phil Matthews had first gotten him interested in books and 
learning and the possibility of a better life than being the leader of a 
gang of stupid thugs and the over-age quarterback of a high school football 
team. She would have to understand how he had hoped for the future, and how 
badly he had wanted to suppress all that was evil in him long enough to let 
her teach him what she knew about biology. He would have to confess how it 
had all gone wrong when he had listened to Ash, the voice of his own 
personal devil, and begun to think how it would be to possess her young 
innocent body instead of what she knew about biology. There would be a great 
deal to confess if he really wanted to tell it all, and what possible 
interest could she have in listening? She would never again regard him as 
anything but scum. 

In fact, Kathleen Barton was past the stage of thinking. The terrible events 
of the past few hours together with the effects of the marijuana had dulled 
her brain to the point where she was virtually semi-conscious. She was dimly 
aware that her body was shivering when Swift put his hands on her, and she 
tried desperately to hold perfectly still, sensing like a wounded animal 
that this man was capable of great violence, and that her only salvation lay 
in absolute passivity. She was lying on her side, her hands clutched between 
her legs in the classic defensive posture of a woman being assaulted, but 
she felt her tiny brown nipples harden as his sensitive fingers brushed 
lightly over the full swollen globes of her breasts. 

Bud Swift felt the young woman's body relax slightly as he continued to 
caress her gently and respectfully, running his hands slowly down over her 
slim waist and exciting himself with the magnificent vision of her entire 
naked body, a landscape of hollows and delicate indentations, soft rises and 
secret hiding places. For a moment, Swift had actually toyed with the idea 
of trying to make up for all the bad he had done by not forcing his way into 
her at this moment, but he knew that the temptation was too strong for him. 
And who could tell? Perhaps if he handed her her clothing and took her home 
in Matthew's car, she would have even less respect for him than before. If 
there was anything worse than a bad man, it is a bad man who loses his nerve 
at the last moment, and there was nothing wrong with Swift's nerves. Yes, he 
would take her, by God, he would fuck her good and proper, and perhaps this 
was the only way he could ever win her respect. Perhaps if he succeeded in 
doing something for her that no one else had ever done, then, just maybe . . 
. but Bud Swift was not much of a man for philosophical speculation. He rose 
to his feet, towering over her, and quickly stripped off his clothing. 

There was a movement in the air, and Kathy opened her clouded eyes for a 
moment, catching sight of the naked man as he crouched over her, his 
hardened cock protruding like a spear from the forest of black pubic hair in 
his groin. She told herself that she ought to be afraid, since he was bigger 
by far than any of the others, but for some reason, there was no fear in 
her. There was nothing left now but resignation. If it was meant to happen, 
it would happen. He was in charge here. It was his show, not hers and this 
was not a class in biology. She closed her eyes again in subjugation as she 
felt his hands once again on her nakedly trembling body, rolling her over 
onto her back. 

Swift knelt over her, like a man on his knees to pray, his hungering fingers 
coursing reverently over her ripely succulent breasts, the flat white plane 
of her stomach, and farther down to the soft moist triangle of pussy hair up 
between her legs. Swift expected her to react in some way, pulling her legs 
together or crossing her hands across the luxurious twin peaks of her 
breasts, but the beautiful teacher was too far gone for any of that now. 
Instead she remained the way he had arranged her, her firm young thighs 
falling helplessly apart. A surge of triumph roared up in Swift's chest as 
he realized that he was not going to have to rape her after all. She was 
giving in! She had thrown her cards on the table and surrendered! Was it the 
marijuana? Or something else? 

He watched her carefully, like a surgeon eyes a patient during a delicate 
operation, his hand wandering gently down between her legs as he fingered 
her softly throbbing vagina, feeling that she was still moist and open from 
the brutal encounters she had experienced with the members of his gang. She 
moaned softly as he stroked her undefended pussy, her arms rising up over 
her head and grasping the corners of the mattress as if she was afraid of 
falling off. It seemed inconceivable, but Bud Swift was experienced enough 
to recognize all of the signs. This woman was slowly but surely turning on! 
Perhaps, just perhaps there was still a chance of saving something from the 
wreckage he had made of his life. 

Kathy felt as if she had drifted off into another dimension, another world 
where all the everyday rules and laws of biology ceased to function. At 
first she was being raped, and then it had been sullen submission to the 
inevitable, and now this whole experience was changing into something much 
different. It no longer seemed to matter what the circumstances were, and 
she only knew that a strong naked man was hovering over her, slowly driving 
her wild with passion. She had tried hard to deny to herself that there was 
anything happening inside of her at all. She had attempted to feel disgust 
and revulsion at this dishonor, but somehow nothing would come. There were 
tiny licking flames of forbidden lust racing through her stricken body, and 
she knew in her marijuana-fogged brain that Swift would see the tips of her 
nipples standing out as hard and firm as pebbles and draw his own 
conclusions. Even if she succeeded in hiding the truth from herself, she 
could not hope to hide it from him. 

"Ohhhhhhh! OOOhhhhhhh!" she heard a woman's voice in the room, only after a 
second or two realizing that it had been hers, and that she had spoken 
aloud. 

Swift reacted, his own excitement now climbing quickly to the boiling point, 
bending over her and fastening his mouth against her, his tongue spearing 
between her lips, only to find her own tongue timidly reaching up to touch 
him back, a warm, wet contact which sent an immediate shudder through her 
lust-wracked body. Nor did she jerk away from him as his eager hands 
continued to swarm over her voluptuously exposed young body, and the 
inexperienced biology teacher found that her hips were becoming difficult to 
control. As he stretched himself over her, she felt the hardness of his 
rigidly pulsing cock dragging lightly over her stomach, and before she could 
stop herself, she found that she had arched her back, raising herself up to 
meet him as if she were answering some silent invitation. 

"Oh God!" she muttered, her words distorted by the presence of his lips 
plastered hard against hers and her body quivering nearly out of control 
like a motor being raced until it is in danger of shaking itself into 
pieces. Swift maneuvered himself into position over her, one hand snaking 
down to investigate the whole of her wetly heated vaginal slit, and for a 
moment he fought off the temptation to plunge himself into her immediately. 
Why delay a moment longer? Was this not why he had brought her here? 

The answer, of course, was yes, but still he held back. He had to be sure 
that this was not going to be simply another rape, for her or for him. 
Tonight he wanted nothing less than her total surrender. He did not want to 
take; he wanted to be given. It was worth the risk to go for the prize he 
really desired, and if he succeeded, perhaps it would change something later 
on. 

'Touch me," he told her quietly, swallowing before speaking to make sure his 
words would be clear and authoritative. "Put your hand down here and touch 
my cock." 

It was the acid test. Both of them were holding their breath, and there was 
a long torturous instant when no one moved, each of them waiting for the 
other to take some decisive action. Finally, it was Kathy who surrendered, 
and she was not quite sure why, but her hand moved seemingly of its own 
accord snaking down between their bodies until she found the throbbing 
hardness of his penis. Swift's body went rigid with tension as he felt her 
fingers close around his thickened shaft of flesh, gently tugging on the 
foreskin. For the time being, Swift seemed content to follow her lead, 
allowing her to draw him steadily in the general direction of her open 
willing cunt as if it were she who were taking the initiative and he were 
merely going along for the ride. It seemed like a fantasy beyond the scope 
of his wildest imagination, but the evidence of his eyes was convincing. She 
seemed to want it as badly as he did, even if she could not quite bring 
herself to open her mouth and tell him so. He knew that this was a moment 
which might never happen again if they both lived to be a hundred, but 
something perverse inside of him still held back from the final commitment 
which would be the act of plunging his long hard cock into the warmly 
receptive depths of her body. He poised over her like a reluctant diver 
trembling on the high board, waiting for a sign that she really knew what 
she was doing. 

Once, it would have been enough for him merely to win her grudging 
acceptance; now, his standards had risen sharply and he wanted it all. He 
wanted to see her hungrily writhing beneath him, beside herself with 
unfulfilled, unsatisfied desire. He wanted to see her begging and pleading 
for him to fuck her, and now nothing less than a total unconditional 
surrender would do. With this one fuck, he was probably destroying his 
future, the only real chance he would ever have of escaping from the fetid 
slum of Ken Central, and if he was going to throw his life away with one 
sexual act, then he swore to himself that it would have to be a fuck she 
would remember to the end of her life! 

The beautiful young school teacher was making tiny crying noises half-way 
between hysteria and laughter, her sensuously naked body gyrating back and 
forth on the soiled surface of the mattress. As he stroked her, the 
pulsating tip of his cock nuzzled in the warm flesh up between her widely 
spread thighs, causing a strange insistent hunger to ripple through her 
tormented body. 

Was this what you always wanted? she asked herself dimly, her mind wandering 
in open-ended circles like a traveler lost in a dense woods. From the moment 
you first saw him abusing that young girl, did you really start to hope that 
he would do the same thing to you some day? Is that what you are deep down 
inside, a crazy masochistic little whore? 

Her brain asked the questions but it was her lust-stricken body which 
provided the answer as she felt her hips twisting upward in a desperate 
lascivious attempt to force his wonderfully throbbing penis up inside of her 
ravenous womb. 

Bud Swift levered up over the girl, treating himself to this vision of 
loveliness he was in the process of conquering. Kathleen Barton's face was 
contorted into a mask of undisguised passion, and her long brown hair 
dishevelled now thrashed wildly back and forth while her mouth opened and 
closed as if she were gasping madly for air. Down farther between their two 
tension-packed bodies, he could see the steel-like shaft of his cock as it 
pointed directly into the warm moist embrace of her pussy. The lust-swollen 
tip of his penis was barely a half inch inside of the twin pink flanges of 
her vaginal slit, and he knew that she was half out of her mind with a 
perverse desire to have the rest of his hotly pulsating cock inside of her 
as well. Her quivering vaginal lips were pressing against the bulbous head 
of his cock from all sides as if they were begging to be penetrated, and the 
sight of all this unguarded lust excited the young man almost beyond 
endurance, making it more and more difficult for him to restrain himself. 

As his eyes traveled up and down her ecstatic young body, Swift's glance 
fell upon Kathy's melon-like breasts which were jiggling provocatively back 
and forth on her chest as her whole body gyrated in sexual torment on the 
mattress. Acting on pure animal instinct, the hoodlum bent forward quickly, 
lowering himself on his powerful shoulder muscles like a man on the down 
stroke of a push-up, and planted a noisy wet kiss on each of her bullet-hard 
little nipples. These were the most perfect, the most beautiful breasts he 
had ever seen, either in real life or in pictures, and he found himself 
filled with the irrational desire to use them, to have them, to possess them 
in some way. But how? A man could not fuck a pair of breasts. 

Or could he? Swift had never made love to a woman before who was big enough 
in the breasts to try out this particular little perversion, but he had an 
idea that Miss Barton's swollen mounds could be put to some lewd purpose. He 
had promised himself that he would take all of her, and these magnificent 
breasts were obviously the best part. 

Moving carefully to avoid destroying the strangely self-sacrificing mood she 
seemed to be in, Swift inched his way up over her torso, his knees coming to 
rest on either side of her rib cage while his long throbbing cock extended 
out in front of him like a rifle barrel. Slowly, he lowered himself into 
position, his eagerly jerking cock waving back and forth between her two 
sensuously ripened breasts, while the young brunette teacher stirred 
restlessly beneath him, obviously unhappy at this delay in the proceedings. 

What was he doing? If he had decided to rape her, why was he taking so long 
about it? Kathy found herself wondering vaguely, ashamed to admit to herself 
that she was a little disappointed in not being raped as quickly as 
possible. She kept her eyes shut tightly, knowing that whatever weird jungle 
magic had settled over them could be destroyed by a moment of rationality if 
their eyes should chance to meet. 

Swift found to her surprise that his hands were trembling as he touched her, 
but he had decided what he was going to do, and knew she was in no position 
to stop him now, or even object. She had already given too much away! 

Pressing firmly from either side, he pushed her soft warm breasts together 
so that they trapped his twitching cock between them like a snake caught 
between two sponges, and then he began to knead them until he brought a moan 
of pleasure-pain to her lips. His biceps bulged as he pushed, really putting 
the pressure on to force her nipples so close that they were nearly 
touching, staring up at him like two blindly crossed eyes. As soon as he 
felt the pressure reach maximum, he began to rock slowly back and forth, 
driving his pole-like penis into her soft rubbery flesh like an earth-borer 
through sand, thrusting his thick hardness so far forward that the tip of 
his lust-bloated cock appeared high on her chest just beneath her chin, and 
then disappeared again into the silken flesh of her breasts. Each time his 
long thick penis emerged from this tantalizing artificial cunt, it left 
behind it a tiny glistening drop of the rich seminal fluid which was slowly 
oozing from the purplish gland. 

This was perilous business, and several times Swift had to bring himself to 
a dead standstill or risk the danger of cumming too soon, ruining everything 
for himself and for her by spewing his searingly hot cum prematurely all 
over her neck. While he rested, allowing his excitement to cool like an 
engineer easing up on a steam engine, the young gang leader entertained 
himself by playing with his victim's lust-provoking breasts, twisting and 
tweaking the little brown nipples until she cried aloud with some weird 
combination of pain and rapidly growing ecstasy. Simultaneously he watched 
her beautiful face, playing her with all the deliberate skill of a master 
musician performing at a grand organ. 

The girl was completely around the bend by this point, groans and little 
bird-like cries of hunger escaping unconsciously from her parted lips. From 
time to time, her heavily-lidded eyes would open, as if she were gradually 
regaining full consciousness, but Swift could tell from the dazed expression 
in her eyes that she was seeing little or nothing. Kathy Barton had been 
transformed from a prim and proper young biology teacher into a gasping 
groaning mass of raw lusting flesh, and she was no longer the slightest bit 
in control of her own body. 

"Oh, oh, oh, oh," she was chanting rhythmically as he fucked ruthlessly into 
the velvety channel of her breasts, and Swift found himself watching her 
open mouth with a sudden morbid attention. 

Don't push your luck too far, Swift tried to caution himself in his brain, 
there was no way of fighting it off. He knew that the others had cum in her 
mouth, and he wanted everything they had had. But he wanted it all given 
voluntarily. They had undoubtedly had to use violence to ram their lewd 
cocks into the unnatural sanctuary of her mouth. Would she take him 
willingly? Was this strange masochistic mood of subjugation and submission 
really that strong? He had to know! He had to discover precisely where the 
limits were, if there was any part of her which was still forbidden to him. 
If she would take him there, then in some macabre sense, he had won. It 
would be no longer rape! 

But the thought of worming his thickly muscular cock between her full red 
sensuous lips almost caused him to cum right there on the spot, and he 
forced himself to wait another moment before moving forward to attempt this 
new outrage upon her helpless young body. Releasing his vise-like grip on 
the tenderness of her breasts, he inched his way forward so that his knees 
fitted neatly under her arms, enjoying an extra tingle of excitement as he 
felt her hands circle around and come to rest on his muscular thighs as if 
she wanted to hold him where he was. Leaning forward on his arms, he gently 
moved his hips forward so that the thick menacing shaft of his cock 
approached her face like a rocket entering the atmosphere of some forbidden 
planet. Closer and closer he came, until the underside of his long rigid 
instrument brushed across the moistness of her innocently parted lips, and 
his cum-laden balls tapped lightly against her chin. On the insides of his 
thighs, he could feel the firmly resilient mounds of her breasts which had 
been the object of his attentions the moment before, but were now almost 
forgotten as he pursued this new goal. 

It had to be slow and careful or he would destroy whatever magical spell she 
was under. Whether she had been vanquished by the pot, or her own 
uncontrollable desires, or simple fatigue, Swift did not know and at this 
point, he hardly cared. He was almost there! 

Slowly, he rose up on his haunches, allowing the pungent meaty tip of his 
invading cock to play lasciviously around the edges of her wetly parted 
lips. This was the critical moment, and the young man stopped breathing for 
a moment, waiting to see if she would snap her jaws tight in righteous 
anger, spinning her head indignantly to one side as she refused to accept 
this final, total humiliation. 

But instead, she did nothing of the kind. Groaning pathetically like a 
sleeping child disturbed in its slumber, Kathy's mouth simply fell open and 
her head nodded forward slightly as she strained to take his offered manhood 
between her full sensuous lips. He was caught almost off-guard by this 
prompt and silent acceptance of his lewdly unspoken proposal, but he lost no 
time in capitalizing on the advantage he had gained, pressing forward in 
absolute delight until the glistening skin of his cock had disappeared 
half-way into her ovaled red mouth. It was not a sight he had ever expected 
to see, and he remembered vividly the circumstances of their first meeting 
when she had charged in from behind the door of the women's locker room, 
catching him in the act of performing this self-same obscene perversion with 
that stupid little sophomore girl. He grinned as he remembered the names she 
called him then. Who would have dreamed that so short a time later . . . 

But the beautiful young teacher was not merely submitting to this abuse of 
her mouth. 

She had never done this before with either of her two boy friends, and would 
have been horrified had either of them asked her to, but now that she was 
actually doing it, she found that it was not as bad as it might have seemed. 
Bud Swift was clean, and the taste of his warmly pulsating penis was salty 
and pungent, but not unpleasant, and she experimentally began using her 
tongue, swiping it across the broad leather surface of his cock-head while 
she sucked in on him. She could feel his hands on her cheeks as he gently 
pressed in on her to increase the pressure, and she understood what he was 
doing when he began flexing his hips methodically back and forth, moving the 
shaft of his penis regularly in and out of her hungrily sucking mouth. 

The thought of what she was actually doing should have disgusted her, but 
Kathy found to her amazement that her own excitement was growing more fierce 
by the moment. Yes, she realized with a shock, she wanted to be misused and 
mistreated like this! Somewhere down inside of her there had been a deeply 
masochistic streak which had been hidden all these years, and the thought 
that he was using her tender young mouth precisely as if it were another 
cunt he could fuck to his heart's content filled her with a frenzy of 
unsatisfied desire un-like anything she had ever experienced before. 

She began to suck on him hard now, anxious to please, to suck him dry, to 
make him groan with pure ecstasy when he shot his hot roiling cum into her 
throat. Her tongue lashed at the blunt tip of his manhood savagely, as if 
she had been born into this world for the sole purpose of sucking his cock 
and no other. All the gnawing hunger buried deep down inside of her vacant 
vagina seemed to have transferred itself to the sensitive insides of her 
mouth. 

Bud Swift enjoyed his reputation as a tough guy, but he found himself 
compelled to moan like a child as he felt the fires beginning to light in 
his loins. At first he had merely intended to play around in her mouth just 
to see if it could be done before getting down to more serious business in 
her tight little cunt, but he realized that he was going to go all the way, 
making her submit to the carnal outrage of having her delicate mouth used as 
a repository for his boiling white sperm, grunting like a savage in the 
jungle, he stepped up the pace, flexing his loins rapidly in and out of the 
round little hole formed by the young woman's tightly ovaled lips. And he 
watched as he worked, driving himself into an absolute frenzy of excitement 
as he saw his saliva-slickened penis plunging rhythmically in and out of her 
greedily sucking mouth. 

Swift could feel the whole room heating up as he drew inexorably towards his 
climax, the sweat pouring off his naked body in multiple rivulets, but the 
girl seemed totally unconscious of everything else in the world except the 
pleasure she derived from the job she was doing. Her mouth was filling 
slowly with a mixture of saliva and seminal emissions from the burning tip 
of his cock, but she swallowed and went on sucking as if her life depended 
upon it. 

Then, suddenly, it all began to happen, starting with a rush from deep in 
his loins which nothing in the universe could possibly have stopped. A long 
white stream of hot angry cum boiled up from somewhere in the athlete's 
convulsing body, spraying out madly into the frantically gulping cavern of 
her mouth. Her cheeks bulged out as the fiery liquid squirted into her, and 
the school teacher gurgled and choked as she voraciously gulped each spurt 
of the lust-inspiring fluid. 

The gang leader gasped as he felt the last of his manhood trickle into her, 
feeling his wildly jerking cock begin to go limp as the original lust-driven 
force of his body emptied itself into the biology teacher's helpless throat. 
It was over, the most cataclysmic orgasm he had ever experienced, and for a 
moment, he merely rested on his elbows, her face buried deep in his groin, 
too tired to pull himself free of her soft warm lips. 

It was then that he made the discovery that stunned him. She was still 
sucking! Apparently still possessed by whatever nymphomaniacal madness had 
come over her, the young school teacher continued to hold his drooping penis 
tenderly between her lips, swallowing occasionally as she choked down the 
last traces of his sticky white cum. Her body was still in motion and as he 
glanced quickly behind him, Swift could sec that her smoothly curving hips 
were undulating rhythmically up and down as if she were being possessed by 
some ghostly invisible lover. The fluff of her dark-brown pussy hair was 
matted and moist, and he could see the wetly gleaming lips of her sweet 
little pussy spread open like the front doors on a barn, desperately 
inviting someone to enter. For a moment, he regretted bitterly that he had 
spent all his force in her mouth, leaving nothing with which to finish the 
job properly. 

But her insane sucking was not as crazy as it had just seemed, since Swift 
felt his cock stirring restlessly again as her tongue bathed him in 
warmness, and the girl seemed to know exactly what she was doing, 
methodically bringing his virile instrument back to life like a nurse 
resuscitating an accident victim, delighting in her magic power to make him 
grow hard and firm again between her lips. 

When he was completely erect again, she slowly dropped her head back to the 
pillow, her hands wrapped firmly around the base of his cock as if she were 
holding on for dear life, the strings of clinging white semen still 
connecting the red bulbous tip to the glistening red flesh of her lips. 
Swift knew what was expected of him at this point; he'd had his lesson and 
now it was time for the homework. And there was no point in delaying a 
moment longer. 

A kind of a truce, a peace, an understanding had been reached between them. 
Tomorrow, no one could tell what might happen, but in this moment in 
history, Bud Swift, ex-convict, thug, gang leader, and the voluptuous young 
biology teacher from the right side of the tracks were lovers. 

CHAPTER SIX 

She was ready, perfectly and completely ready, and Swift could feel the wet 
open moistness of her cunt as he slid down into position. Moving quickly, he 
deftly separated the sparse brown pubic hairs with his agile fingers, 
guiding the massive tip of his cock directly into the target area and 
feeling her open up to him as he glided easily and calmly into the warm 
clasping depths of her succulent young body. There was no pain, no 
resistance left in her. Kathy's previous encounters with the other three 
members of the gang had left her well-stretched and moist, and despite the 
unusual size of the young man's eagerly pulsing cock, she found no 
difficulty in accepting him into her waiting vagina. 

"Ahhhhhhh!" she moaned in pure, unashamed happiness as he thrust into her, 
his steel-hard shaft of flesh driving all the way up to the tenderness of 
her cervix. The lust-wracked young school teacher wrapped her arms tightly 
around his neck and crooned in a sexual delirium, as if she were 
irrationally afraid he would try to leave her at this critical moment. While 
he began fucking energetically in and out of her, her sensually ripened body 
jerked and convulsed as if she were receiving electroshock treatment. A 
light fragrant sheen of perspiration covered her soft velvety flesh, and her 
long brown hair flared out over her head like a halo. This woman was not 
going to be long in cumming, Swift sensed accurately, and he doubled his 
stroke, wanting to make it a orgasm she would remember the rest of her life. 

"Ah, go ahead!" she groaned as he fucked up into her unmercifully. "That's 
right! Oh . . . God . . . so . . . wonderful." 

Kathy had lost all sense of shame, pleading with the man who was raping her 
to do it harder and faster. Swift responded by cupping the wildly churning 
cheeks of her naked buttocks in his hands and lifting her writhing young 
body clear off the bed in order to be able to penetrate even more deeply 
than before. Using every muscle in his athlete's body, he fucked into her, 
feeling the hot convulsing flesh of her pussy clasping tightly around his 
long pistoning penis. Her nostrils were flaring wildly, like a mare feeling 
the power of the stallion, and her own mother would not have recognized her 
in this moment. 

Swift levered up over her as the critical moment arrived, realizing that 
this was a sight he did not want to miss seeing, even at the price of 
diminishing his own pleasure somewhat. As the man changed position, the girl 
trembling on the edge of the most violent orgasm of her life adapted herself 
quickly to this new posture, moving her hands butterfly-like from his 
muscular shoulders down to his rock-hard ass-cheeks as if she were trying to 
pull him even more deeply inside of her. She was as slippery as a fish to 
hang onto since both their gyrating bodies were now bathed in sweat, and 
Swift could feel her fingernails digging fiercely into the toughened flesh 
of his buttocks, egging him on to almost superhuman efforts. 

"Oh fuck me, fuck me! Harder!" she groaned insistently, thrashing back and 
forth beneath him like a woman possessed by the devil, her open mouth 
searching recklessly for his as her moment of triumph and defeat inexorably 
approached. 

"Oh Christ," she said suddenly, her voice now shocked, as if she had 
suddenly regained her sanity and could not quite believe what was happening 
to her. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" 

Kathy Barton's nakedly writhing body arched up to meet him as the hot 
orgasmic fluid from her convulsing young pussy washed out of her in 
veritable torrents, flooding around Bud's pistoning cock while the powerful 
cuntal muscles in her body bore down upon him with an enormous pressure. 

Swift had cum himself only a few minutes before, but the tension was too 
much to be resisted. There was the same volcanic eruption in his sperm-laden 
balls, and he felt himself cumming all over again! Moving up over her still 
lewdly writhing body, he forcefully threw her thighs up over his shoulders 
and ground down into her with enough power to break her back in two. The 
explosion went on and on for both of them until it seemed that they were 
both hanging in mid-air like a jet pilot at the apogee of a climb, and it 
was a long time before gravity took over again and pulled them softly back 
to earth. 

Swift eased his slowly deflating cock out of the biology teacher's battered 
young cunt, truly exhausted from the effort he had put forth, and looked 
vaguely around for his pants. There was a movement in the next room, and he 
wondered if his crew of thugs was waking from their drunken slumber and 
whether or not they would feel like another crack at the girl. He resolved 
that he would not permit them to touch her again! She had suffered enough. 
The school teacher had sighed deeply and rolled nakedly onto her stomach, 
apparently having drifted off to sleep. As soon as she was rested, they 
would dress her and drive her home. The fun was over. 

Swift located his clothing, and hopped on one foot as he climbed back into 
his pants. There was a flash of light at the door as someone entered, and 
Bud Swift looked up to find himself staring down the barrel of-a pistol. 
Holding the weapon was Philip Matthews. There was a savage expression on the 
English teacher's face which Swift had never seen before, and for the first 
time in his life, the gang leader knew what it felt like to be afraid. 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

"Oh, damn, damn, what happened?" Philip Matthews tried to raise himself up 
on his arms, failed, tried again and succeeded in hoisting himself into 
something resembling a sitting position. There was an ache in the back of 
his head which was nearly blinding him with pain, and the room seemed to be 
spinning wildly around on some particularly unpleasant axis of its own. 
Where was he? What had happened? 

"You'll be okay," he heard a woman's voice reassuring him sympathetically. 
"You were so brave! How on earth did you ever find me?" 

It was an effort of heroic proportions, but Matthews managed to get his eyes 
open and watched the room gradually drift to a halt as he tried to get the 
sequence of events straight in his head. Kathy Barton was sitting next to 
him, now fully dressed, holding his hand affectionately and offering him a 
half-filled bottle of whiskey. 

"Here, drink this, Phil," she suggested calmly. "It might help the pain. 
They left it behind when they ran." 

It seemed like a good idea, and the English teacher took the bottle, 
noticing that his hands were shaking and hoping that the girl would not make 
the same observation. The whiskey was raw and cheap, but it did help 
considerably. He smelled the faint scent of liquor on her breath and guessed 
that she had already sampled some of her own remedy. 

"What happened to them? Where did they go?" he demanded, grateful at least 
that they were gone. He did not feel particularly courageous at this moment, 
and the thought of confronting Bud Swift in his present weakened condition 
did not appeal to him in the slightest. 

'They ran away," Kathleen Barton answered simply. "After you came in with 
the pistol, they all seemed to get frightened and ran away. But they took 
the pistol with them. Maybe they thought the police were coming." 

"But what happened to me?" he demanded, still impatient with the situation. 
"I had just walked in and was trying to decide what to do and somebody 
turned all the lights out!" 

"Chubs. I never thought anybody so fat could move so fast, but he seemed to 
come out of a dead sleep in an instant, and the first thing I saw when I 
looked up was his hand coming down on the back of your head. Does it still 
hurt?" 

"Don't worry about me," he replied, suddenly remembering that he was the 
brave rescuer and not the victim. "Are you all right? What did they do to 
you?" 

"Well, about what you'd expect, I guess," she responded slowly, looking away 
in acute embarrassment. "I don't think your plan to salvage Bud Swift is 
working very well." 

"The bastards!" he swore, this being the strongest curse word Matthews had 
in his vocabulary. "Well, I don't have any plans for Swift anymore, except 
seeing that he goes to jail as fast as possible. But how in heck did he 
think he was going to get away with it? The only way he could hope to evade 
punishment would be by killing both of us, and he had the chance to do it. 
Why did he bother running away? He must know that the cops will get him 
sooner or later?" 

"I.. . I don't understand, but I don't think he ever had any intention of 
killing me," she stammered uneasily. "He told me the police would never 
believe me if I made a complaint, and the others said they'd get me if I 
went to the law. Philip, I'm so frightened. I just want to get out of here. 
Can you walk?" 

Philip Matthews found that he could, even if just barely, and the two of 
them staggered down the dark flights of stairs, looking nervously at every 
flickering shadow. His wrist watch told him that he had been unconscious for 
nearly a half hour, and he thought of the young woman's bravery, sitting 
alone by his side in that abandoned building, waiting for him to regain 
consciousness, knowing that the gang could get its nerve together and return 
at any moment to kill and silence them both forever. 

"It sounds to me as if he's got a fast one up his sleeve," decided Matthews 
as he reached his car, miraculously still parked in the same spot. "But 
we'll let the police play detective. The station house isn't far from here." 

"Phil, before we go, I want to . . . I mean, you know what happened to me 
and I'm still a little upset. I want to rest for a few minutes someplace 
where I feel safe and use a bathroom . . . could you drive me home first, 
and then we'll call the police on the telephone? Maybe we can go down in the 
morning to do the paperwork?" 

"Okay, but. . . look, are you sure you're all right? You must have gone 
through hell up there. Maybe I should take you to a hospital?" 

"No, I'm going to be okay . . . they were pretty rough but I'm a strong 
girl.. . oh, I wish it hadn't happened!" She was speaking the truth. Bud 
Swift had clearly put himself outside the law by kidnapping her, and she 
knew she could not avoid making a complaint against him, but she had 
weakened her own moral position by surrendering so completely and becoming 
such an obvious slave to her own lewd passions. How could she testify 
against him in a court when they both knew how she had behaved while she was 
being "raped"? She wished she could explain everything honestly to someone 
sympathetic like Phil Matthews, but she understood quickly that a full 
confession was out of the question. This man had risked his life to try to 
save her from the humiliation and sexual degradation the gang had brutally 
subjected her to; she could hardly explain at this point that her last 
vicious assailant had given her the most powerful sexual experience of her 
life! 

The car started, another miracle, and silently they drove out of the Ken 
Central slum towards the girl's apartment as Matthews followed the girl's 
whispered instructions. He chatted nervously as he maneuvered the automobile 
through darkened streets, explaining how his father had given him the pistol 
before he died and mentioning that he had never had occasion to use it 
before. It was not registered with the police, and he wondered if he would 
get into trouble for having carried it, even in an emergency. And having a 
loaded pistol in the hands of Bud and his goons did not make for a relaxing 
situation. 

Besides, none of it really made sense! What had made Swift think he could 
possibly get away with it? An ordinary punk from the streets might have 
embarked upon an adventure of this kind without much thought for future 
consequences, but Swift was the possessor of a massive I.Q., and the act of 
putting himself in a position where he was destined to go back to jail 
seemed untypically stupid of him. Well, Matthews decided, they would know 
soon enough. Perhaps Swift had decided to return to a life of crime, 
disappearing for good, and this was his last hurrah before sinking into the 
morass of the Ken Central slum. 

'This is the place here," commented Kathy 

Barton, disturbing her friend's meditations and indicating a respectable 
brown-stone apartment building, 'it'll scandalize my landlady, but I wish 
you'd come up with me." 

"Oh, I just thought of another thing we'd better do before we call the 
police," recalled the English teacher as they climbed the stairs to the 
young woman's apartment. 'There's a Kensington Central School regulation 
which says that before a criminal complaint can be made by a teacher against 
a student, the principal must be notified. They invented it a couple of 
years ago to keep some of our Nervous Nellies on the faculty from 
frivolously calling the police over some minor matter, but it's a rule, and 
I suppose we'd better play the game." 

"Could you do it?" pleaded the young woman wearily. "I don't think I want to 
talk to Mr. Parsons right now." 

* * * 

"Who? Oh Matthews it's you! Yeah, yeah, I know all about it. Mark Hanson 
just called and he and the boys are on their way down here now. I think I 
can talk 'em out of preferring charges against you for carrying a deadly 
weapon, but it was a damn stupid thing for a man in your position to have 
done, I'll say that much!" 

For a moment, the school teacher was too shocked to respond. Then his anger 
boiled over and he snarled into the telephone at his superior. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" he shouted. "We're filing charges 
against those monsters for kidnapping and rape, and if I have anything to 
say about it, they're going to jail for the rest of their lives, all of 
them!" 

"Rape? What happened? Has our little girl friend decided it was rape?" 
laughed the principal harshly. "I think that's a little story she made up to 
save tace in front of you, Phil. She went there willingly, and there's no 
question about that in my mind." 

"She was kidnapped, I'm telling you!" Matthews screamed, virtually beside 
himself with anger. "I'm going to have them all thrown in jail!" 

"Look, why don't you and Miss Barton come down and meet me in my office," 
suggested the principal. "Hanson and his boys are coming down, and I'm sure 
all of this can be straightened out quickly enough. I'm sure I'll be able to 
get you out of difficulty; although I think we may have to discharge Miss 
Barton. Can't have our faculty members behaving like that, can we?". 

There was a click on the phone and Matthews realized that the conversation 
was over, whether he liked it or not. Something was very strange here and 
nothing made the slightest bit of sense. Parsons was probably a corrupt man, 
and he liked the idea of having a winning football team every year, but he 
would hardly join a conspiracy with a group of students to protect them 
after they had raped an innocent female teacher. Or would he? 

"I know," Kathy nodded soberly as he turned to relate what Mr. Parsons had 
said. "They're claiming I went along for the ride." 

"Kathy . . . what can I say? You . . . you didn't go with . . . I can't 
bring myself to suggest it." 

"You don't have to," she snapped bitterly. "No, I agreed to meet him in the 
tea room to talk about Charles Darwin and the Voyage of the Beagle. It was 
stupid, I suppose, but the tea room seemed safe, and he was so.. . so 
interested. I couldn't believe it was all an act. Then, they must of drugged 
me, because I don't remember anything until I woke up in that place." 

"Okay, let's go," Matthews decided abruptly. "Let's get this little 
confrontation scene over With, and then we go to the police. If Swift gets 
away with this, then we might as well close down the school because no 
teacher will ever be able to feel safe again in a classroom. Damn! I should 
have shot the . . . the bastard when I had the chance. 

"Phil, you could never shoot anyone, except in self-defense," she consoled 
him, stepping up beside him and taking his arm affectionately. "You . . . 
you were so brave tonight, and I'm sorry about that time when I questioned 
your courage. Come on, let's get this over with." 

* * * 

Mark Hanson smiled broadly at Phil Matthews as the English teacher led the 
blushing young woman into the principal's office. Kathy looked at the floor, 
trying to avoid everyone's eyes while the three members of Swift's gang 
sprawled carelessly on a couch. Only Swift himself seemed to be nervous and 
ill at ease. 

"Well, this is one heck of a mess," announced Parsons, making himself 
comfortable behind his desk and lighting up his usual fat cigar. "We have 
female teachers consorting with groups of students consorting sexually, I 
should say-and we have a man with a Master's degree running around in the 
middle of the night waving a pistol and threatening to kill half of our 
football team. Do you want to explain yourselves, you two?" 

Kathy and Phil had previously agreed that Phil would do the talking, and the 
English teacher controlled his temper with a visible effort still convinced 
that some profound misunderstanding was taking place which would be 
corrected as soon as the facts could be clarified. Without looking at the 
football players he was supposed to have threatened, he launched into a long 
and detailed description of the situation as he understood it, reasoning and 
arguing like the lawyer for the prosecution. Hanson smiled broadly 
throughout the entire lecture, occasionally glancing encouragingly at his 
prot'g's on the football team and making a great show of the fact that none 
of this was worrying him excessively. 

"And those are the facts as I know them, Mr. Parsons," Phil Matthews 
concluded sincerely after a five minute oration, "Miss Barton was tricked 
into drinking tea with Swift who had arranged for the tea to be drugged by 
Chubs, who works as a waiter in the tea room for a couple of hours after 
school each day. Then she was taken to the abandoned building to be sexually 
assaulted, and I intend to see that a criminal complaint is made to the 
police!" 

"Mr. Parsons, I would like to say one thing here," asserted Mark Hanson, 
getting to his feet easily and stepping towards the principal's desk. The 
whole scene was getting to look more and more like a trial by jury with Mr. 
Parsons acting as the judge. "It's pretty well known around the school that 
Phil Matthews and I have never seen eye to eye on much of anything, but I 
think we've always respected one another as honest teachers and gentlemen. 
To me it is perfectly obvious that he is the innocent victim in this whole 
ugly affair, and I propose to use whatever influence I have with these 
students to see that no criminal charges are placed against him for use of a 
deadly weapon. It's clear to me that he has been completely taken in by this 
woman's lying attempt to protect her shattered reputation and, of course, he 
has not had the advantage of hearing all the facts." 

Matthews boiled inside as he heard this unctuous and deliberately deceitful 
talk. To listen to Hanson pretend to be defending him was the most 
infuriating thing which had ever happened at Ken Central as far as he was 
concerned, and for a moment, he desperately wished for fifty pounds of 
muscle and a foot of height to be added to his slender stature, so that he 
could deal with the gym teacher man to man. 

"What other facts?" he snapped angrily. "Let's hear all these so-called 
facts of yours." 

"Calm down, Phil," advised the gym teacher pleasantly. "This isn't the first 
time in history a girl decided it was rape when someone she knew walked in 
and surprised her. But the fact is, my friend, that Kathleen Barton has had 
the hots for Bud Swift since the first day she laid eyes on him. Why it was 
only the other day that she asked me for his home telephone number . . . " 

"That's a lie!" gasped the young woman, speaking up on her own defense for 
the first time. "I've never done any such thing." 

"Well, naturally, we would have to expect her to deny it, but then we have 
the undeniable fact that she did call Swift to set up their appointment in 
the tea room, something she could not have done if she didn't have the 
number I gave her to begin with." 

"I never . . . " Kathy began again, but Parsons interrupted her, 
cross-examining Hanson like a district attorney. 

"What reason did she give for asking for the number?" the principal 
demanded. 

"Well, she said she wanted to counsel him on doing his homework more 
promptly," alleged Hanson, "But I could tell from the way she was blushing 
and avoiding my eyes that it was something more serious than homework she 
was after." 

"These are lies . . . " Kathy tried to inject. "Well, Swift, did she call 
you?" Parsons insisted. 

"Yes, Sir," mumbled the student, looking at the floor as he answered, 
obviously ashamed of his behavior in front of Kathy and Matthews but unable 
to do anything about it at this stage of the game. "She called and said we 
should meet after school and then go out and have some fun." 

"That's a lie!" Kathy was groaning over and over again as if she were 
speaking to herself. "Everything they're saying is a lie." 

"Perhaps a judge will have to decide that," commented Parsons severely, 
leaving no doubt as to whom he chose to believe. "Are you two still 
determined to create a terrible scandal and call the police?" 

"You are damn right we are," affirmed Matthews, but his voice was weak, and 
a trickle of wonder was starting to infiltrate his brain. Could he have been 
wrong? Could it be that she had gone willingly with Swift and had only 
claimed she had been kidnapped to save face when he came barging in, a 
foolish would-be hero? No! He could not face the thought! She had to be 
innocent. 

"Well, I guess that leaves us no choice," Hanson remarked philosophically, 
as if he were speaking to himself. "About the pictures, I mean. Sure hate to 
see those photographs get into circulation . . . " 

"What photographs?" questioned Matthews levelly, wondering what new spoiled 
meat was being tossed into an already rancid stew. Kathy looked up suddenly, 
her memory reaching back to her first moments of consciousness after she had 
awakened alone in the deserted building and had heard the gang talking in 
the next room. "Look at this one," someone had said as she was emerging from 
the fogs of the drug. "That'd convince any judge in the world. " 

Hanson nodded at Ash as if he were expected to respond to the question. 

"Well, when we all got up to the pad, Kathy excuse me, I mean Miss Barton, 
but she told us to call 'er Kathy Miss Barton saw this camera I had and said 
it would be fun if we took some pictures . . . you know, pictures of us 
while we were givin' it to her. We all took turns and shot a couple of 
rolls." 

"Where are these pictures?" Parsons asked severely. 

Ash removed a paper-covered packet from his pocket and laid it respectfully 
on the principal's desk. The cigar-smoker spilled the photos out on the 
blotter and began pawing through them, his eyes growing wide with shock and 
perhaps a sudden rush of lust as he saw what they revealed. Catching the 
look on the principal's face, Matthews sprang to his feet without waiting 
for an invitation and leaned over the desk to examine this so-called 
evidence. 

They were the worst things he had ever seen, and the young English teacher's 
hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the desk to support himself. There, 
in front of him in photograph after photograph, was the lushly naked body of 
Kathleen Barton, stretched out on the same mattress where he had found her a 
few hours before. Her sex partners varied from picture to picture, but in 
every case she was committing some obscene act with one of the four football 
players, and the photography was sufficiently clear to leave no doubt about 
what she was doing. 

Blushing with embarrassment, Matthews picked up one particularly 
pornographic shot and held it closer to the light. It was Kathy's face, 
cruelly distorted by a man's long rigid cock which had been thrust obscenely 
in her mouth half-way to the hilt. Immediately all his previous doubts came 
sweeping back to him. Was it possible that he was letting himself fall in 
love with a nymphomaniac? The evidence was mounting against her minute by 
minute, and 

Matthews picked up a second photograph and studied it carefully, feeling his 
penis stir restlessly in his pants. The photograph he was now examining 
showed Kathy bent over in a humiliating position with Ash about to plant his 
lips on the tiny puckered ring of her anus. Another featured Miss Barton 
with a man's cock in each hand, lying face down on the mattress. But there 
was something strange about all of these pictures, and it took the English 
teacher to put his finger on the problem. 

Her eyes were always closed! In every case, the camera had caught Kathy with 
her eyes closed, her face totally immobile and blank as if she were sleeping 
through this orgy of carnal pleasure. Of course, it finally hit him like a 
thunderbolt, she was still drugged! They must have stripped her defenseless 
body naked and taken these pictures as a guarantee against being denounced 
to the police. No wonder they were so cocky about not being arrested! If she 
called the police, they would present these horrible photographs as proof 
that she had cooperated in her own ravishment. 

And the more he thought about it, the more it seemed that they were going to 
get away with it. With Hanson on their side, testifying that Kathy had hot 
pants for Swift, and these photographs to back up their case, the best they 
could expect would be a long and messy trial, probably ending in acquittal 
for lack of proof. And naturally, Kathy's reputation would be thoroughly 
destroyed in the process. 

"I think you may win this round," he spat at Hanson, ignoring the others. 
"Mark, I honestly never believed you could sink this low." 

"That's life, Phil old boy," rejoined the gym teacher affably, smiling at 
him as if they had just played a good round of chess and Matthews had lost. 

"Well, we still have some unresolved issues here," protested the principal 
as he saw the head of the English Department take Miss Barton's arm and 
guide her gently out of the room. "There are some questions in my mind about 
this woman's moral suitability . . . " 

"Oh drop dead!" snapped Matthews, now thoroughly depressed and not caring 
whether they fired him or not. There was a suppressed giggle from the three 
football players as the two teachers stalked off into the night. 

* * * 

"Hey, where'd Swifty go?" Chubs wanted to know, as the three gang members 
emerged from the school building. "Ah, he's got a hair up his ass," 
complained Ash, now enjoying his role as leader of the gang and anxious to 
keep Bud Swift out of the limelight until he could consolidate his 
leadership of the group. "Swifty's gettin' old, fellows! Ain't got the balls 
for our kinda fun and games anymore!" 

"What we gonna do now?" wondered Jose as the three of them walked through 
the parking lot. "Really pisses me off the way Matthews tried to get us all 
sent to the clink. Who's that mother-fucker think he is, anyway?" 

"Ah, the little prick!" retorted Ash venomously. "He just hates the football 
team and he hates the Coach. I'm gonna have to give some thought to the 
business of gettin' even with our little Mr. Matthews." 

"Fuck Matthews, what I wanna know is who does that bitch think she is, 
complaining to Parsons? We told'er what we'd do if she opened her trap, and 
I think we bughta do it! Besides, I wasn't finished with her by a long 
shot!" Chubs put in, anxious to seem as vicious as anyone else. 

"Yeah, you're starting me thinking, Chubs," mused Ash as the three of them 
stood in the shadows, watching Mr. Matthews and Miss Barton walk toward 
Matthews' car. "Maybe the night ain't over yet, and we kin kill us two birds 
with one stone." 

"Whatcha thinkin', man?" Chubs wondered eagerly, always ready for more 
trouble. 

"I'm thinking about that beautiful little thirty-eight caliber pistol old 
Matthews was kind enough to give us which is still sittin' in my pocket jus' 
begging to be used for somethin'. And I'm also thinking about some of the 
nice things I was fixing to do to that lady teacher and never got the 
chance." 

"Shit man, you ain't thinkin' of pickin' them up again, are ya? Shouldn't we 
ask Swifty?" 

"Fuck Swifty!" exploded Ash with irritation. "Fer one thing, he ain't here, 
so we can't ask him nothing. And fer another thing, we don't need that guy 
anymore! If he wants to wander by tonight, we jus' might let him have a 
piece of ass, after we's finished, naturally." 

"Let's go," urged Jose, his voice a low hoarse hiss in the darkness. "We 
gotta move now if we're gonna move and I got a hard-on jus' thinkin' about 
it!" 

* * * 

The owner of the second-hand book store did not appear to be overjoyed as 
Swift entered his shop because he had been robbed by young punks just like 
this one, and he knew he was destined to be robbed again before his 
commercial career was over. He actually ran a profitable but illegal bookie 
business out of a back room, and therefore was not terribly concerned with 
losing a few dollars to an occasional thief, but guns upset him, and the 
business of being robbed was beginning to become tiresome. On the other 
hand, there was just an outside chance that this particular punk wanted to 
buy a book or place a bet, so the store-keeper nodded affably as the young 
man scanned the volumes available for sale. 

"Got some good skin mags under the counter, if you're in the market," he 
offered jovially, reaching beneath his desk for a sample of the pornographic 
magazines he occasionally managed to hustle. 

"Nan, I'm looking for something to read," commented Swift morosely. In fact, 
he was merely killing time while he tried to figure out what to do with the 
rest of his life, and he had wandered into this particular bookstore on a 
whim. What now? Should he go back to Ken Central High School on Monday 
morning, his homework neatly done and sit in the front row of Miss Barton's 
class, volunteering to answer questions and maybe even clean the blackboard 
after the lecture? Somehow it seemed a bit late for that now. Or did he go 
to Phil Matthews and try somehow to explain how he had not wanted to do what 
he very clearly had done? It was a little late for that as well. Matthews 
was pretty obviously in love with Kathleen Barton, and it did not seem 
terribly-likely that he would be kind and forgiving with the man who had 
kidnapped and raped her. It was a little late for almost anything. 

"Got a lot of novels here," volunteered the bookstore owner. "Half price if 
they're used, and they're all used." 

"You got any school books?" asked Swift. "I'm . . . I'm going to college 
next year and I.. . I thought I'd study up." 

"Hmmmmmm, don't get much of a call for school books," admitted the owner who 
was privately wondering about the fate of a certain horse in the third race 
at the local track. "Coupla things back in that corner there." 

"Yeah, here's a book," Swift muttered to himself, spotting a title he had 
heard of and tossing it onto the shop owner's desk. "How much?" 

"Thirty-five cents," replied the bookie, watching the punk carefully. 
Sometimes they offered to buy something before reaching for their guns so 
they could find out where the money was kept. A quarter and a dime bounced 
onto the counter, however, and he carefully picked up the change as the 
tattered paperback disappeared into the punk's back pocket, and the punk 
himself disappeared into the violent Ken Central night. 

* * * 

They did it clumsily, like two teenagers on their first date, but somehow as 
Matthews turned to help Kathy Barton into the front seat of his car, she 
blundered instead into his arms, burying her face in his neck as she sobbed 
passionately. 

"It's all right, honey," he tried to console the grief-stricken young woman, 
as he felt her sensuously firm breasts pressing into his chest, exciting him 
sexually despite the tragedy of the situation. "Let's not even try to think 
anymore about it tonight. We have the whole weekend to relax and decide what 
to do." 

"Oh, Phil," she mumbled through her tears. "You've been so good to me . . . 
and you've turned out to be such a real man, and I've caused you all this 
trouble." 

Matthews felt his penis twitching impatiently, and the thought of taking her 
home to bed that very night passed quickly through his brain. The gang had 
apparently not seriously injured her, and it was obvious that the two of 
them were falling in love . . . if not tonight then certainly tomorrow.. . 
the terrible things which had happened had somehow pulled them together as 
if it were just them against the world. Phil Matthews realized that his cock 
was now as rigid as a board, and he wondered in a brief moment of 
embarrassment if she could feel his hardness pressing against her abused and 
battered loins. But if she could feel him urgently crushed against her, she 
did not seem to mind and lifted her face to his to be kissed. 

But suddenly, there was the blunt end of a pistol pressing painfully into 
his back and vicious words coming into his ears. 

"All right, you two love birds," Ash ordered bitingly. "Stop dry-fucking and 
get into the car." 

"Oh no," Kathy groaned as Phil released her, instinctively raising his hands 
above his head. 

CHAPTER EIGHT 

Matthews stumbled clumsily with intense fatigue and a crushing feeling of 
helplessness as the gang pushed and prodded the kidnapped couple up the last 
flight of stairs to their place of concealment in the abandoned school 
house. 

"Get your ass up them stairs," snarled Ash viciously, striking the young 
English teacher hard across the back of the head with his free hand while he 
prodded Kathy Barton in the ribs with the loaded thirty-eight. Another few 
steps, and the three gang members herded their captives into the school room 
with the mattress while Chubs busied himself with lighting the kerosene 
lantern, throwing a murky flickering illumination across the ram-shackle 
den. 

"So you thought you'd made a little trouble for us, eh?" demanded Jose 
angrily, his courage bolstered by the facts that Ash still held the pistol 
at Matthews' back, ready to fire if need be. "Well, teach, we're gonna make 
you do some sufferin' fer that, and the sufferin' starts now." 

Without warning, the football player's hand came out of nowhere, catching 
the English teacher across the side of the head and nearly knocking him 
over. Matthews tried and failed to prevent a grunt of pain from escaping his 
lips, but he recovered his balance almost immediately, his mind working fast 
despite the fatigue and pain he was feeling. 

"You're pretty brave, aren't you, Jose?" he said challengingly, trying to 
keep his naturally tenor voice as low and steady as possible. "Ash might put 
the gun away and then we'd see how you do when it's man to man." 

Matthews was reasonably sure that Jose could beat the tar out of him, gun or 
no gun, but he was cunningly hoping to create a diversion of some kind. If 
the gang could be persuaded to concentrate its hostility on him, there was 
an outside possibility that Kathy might have the opportunity to slip away. 
The last few hours had been teaching Matthews a few things about himself, 
and he was slowly discovering that he had more courage than he had ever 
realized, not to mention the fact that being in love with a beautiful woman 
helped his manhood considerably. 

"Well now, that's a mighty interesting proposition, Teach," responded the 
hoodlum insultingly as he stepped back to survey Matthews' slender form. The 
two men were about the same height and weight, but Jose had spent every 
afternoon for the past four years attending football practice, and he was in 
superb physical condition. The school teacher was a normally healthy man in 
his early thirties, but he was clearly no match for a punk who had been 
involved in fights regularly since his childhood. Nevertheless, Jose thought 
it would be fun. 

"Hey, we come up here fer fightin' or fuckin'? " Chubs wanted to know in his 
heavy stupid way. "I wanna get my ol' cock into the lady teach here. We kin 
fool around with Matthews later." 

Ash made the final decision. 

"Yeah, we got some lessons to teach you, Matthews, about keeping yer big 
nose outa things what don' concern ya, but first we're gonna give some 
private instruction to yer girl friend here. Get some wire down off that 
there wall, Chubs and let's tie him up. He kin watch! I ain't shy and maybe 
he'll learn somethin' about fuckin from watchin' a couple a' real men work 
over his hot little girl friend." 

The work was done in a moment. Chubs pulled a long electric cord off of the 
wall, bringing down a shower of plaster dust on top of them while Ash and 
Jose cooperated in bending Phil's arms painfully behind him. The naked wire 
bit harshly into his flesh, and the school teacher struggled for all he was 
worth, knowing as he fought that it was useless, but convinced that he had 
to show them that he was not afraid. 

It made very little difference. When his wrists were secured, they backed 
him up to the door and fastened the wire to the door knob, making him 
completely helpless. 

"Kin we fuck 'er now, Ash?" demanded the idiotic Chubs impatiently, moving 
menacingly towards the terrified young woman who was cowering in a corner. 
Of course, she had been through this all once before, and they had not been 
particularly gentle the first time, but she had survived mostly because of 
the pain-killing effects of the cocaine and marijuana. Now she would have no 
chemical assistance, and this time the gang hated her as well as lusting 
after her body. The first time they merely wanted to satisfy their brutal 
carnal lusts. This time they wanted revenge. 

"Go git 'er, Chubs," responded Ash nonchalantly, deciding it would be useful 
in consolidating his leadership if he let the others go first. Besides, it 
looked as if the girl was going to fight back for all she was worth, and Ash 
wisely decided that a few minutes with Chubs was an ideal way to soften her 
up. 

The big moronic football player's mind almost disappeared in an internal 
frenzy of lust as he received his leader's permission to do whatever he 
wanted with the helpless young woman before him. Moving forward as if he 
were closing a gap in the defensive line, Chubs thundered across the room, 
pinning the girl to the wall with such force that he knocked the breath from 
her battered body. Desperately fighting back, Kathy tried to punch him with 
her tiny clenched fists, but it was like a gazelle boxing with an elephant. 
With one mountainous sweep of his massive arm, the big football player 
knocked the girl to her knees. 

"You bastard!" shouted Matthews in rage, and Ash reacted quickly to this 
verbal interference, slamming his fist into the school teacher's stomach. 
When Phil doubled over in pain, Ash aimed a kick at his groin; There was a 
loud crunch and a shrill animal-like scream of agony as the point of his 
leather boot slammed into the teacher's testicles. His hand only a blur, he 
began slapping and back-landing the bound man until Phil's eyes rolled up in 
his head and he slumped forward, unconscious, held erect only by the cord 
binding his hands to the doorknob. 

Chubs was paying no attention to anything just now but the task before him. 
Dropping to his knees next to the stunned young woman, he began insanely 
ripping the clothing from her lushly trembling young body, no longer 
possessing enough patience to bother with buttons and zippers. The girl was 
struggling senselessly, but Chubs' fingers found their way to her neck and 
with a deft flick of his wrist, the giant stripped her to the waist, 
carrying away the shredded blouse and the fragile fabric of her brassiere in 
one clean abrupt movement of his arm and leaving her full, lust-arousing 
breasts naked before the unbridled fury of his lewd passion. Kathy made one 
last desperate effort to wiggle away from the lust-ridden monster, but Chubs 
let fly a vicious backhand and she collapsed like a deck of cards, hitting 
the floor and sprawling on her back. 

Grunting with animalistic carnality, Chubs yanked the brief wrap-around 
skirt free of the young teacher's slender hips and then tore away her 
panties as if they were made of tissue paper. She was now completely naked 
and helpless before the drooling giant, and she began sobbing as she 
realized no one could help her now. 

Wide-eyed and in terror, she stared over toward the unconscious Phil 
Matthews and felt a sharp pang of pity and affection as she saw the blood 
running from his split lip and nose. Then all her senses came back to Chub. 

Mumbling one vile and unintelligible obscenity after another, the dim-witted 
football player threw his enormous weight on top of her nakedly resisting 
body, knocking the breath out of her again, his hands busily prying between 
her long, tightly clamped legs as he forced himself into position. Taking 
only an instant to free his thick rigid cock from the confines of his pants, 
Chubs wasted no time with foreplay or preliminaries and Kathy cried in 
dismay as she saw the long hard rod of his cock coming closer to the wide 
split crevice of her helpless vagina. She knew there was nothing in the 
world to. prevent this ton of lard from viciously ramming his blunt-tipped 
penis into the unprepared softness of her vagina. 

Chubs had not even taken the trouble to move the trembling girl over to the 
mattress lying a few feet away, and her smoothly rounded buttocks were 
pressing now on the cold linoleum floor as the lust-driven youth roughly 
spread her legs further apart with his knees, moving his monstrous penis 
closer and closer to the target until the bulbous blood-engorged tip brushed 
lasciviously against the fearfully quivering vaginal opening of the 
teacher's badly beaten body. After an instant's pause, Chubs simply released 
the pressure on his elbows, allowing his chunky body to come crashing down 
on Kathy's succulently ripened breasts as his hips flicked simultaneously 
forward, sending his thick ravishing cock skewering past the cringing lips 
of her tight little cunt. "Aaaaaaaggghhh!! ! " 

Her scream of agony brought Phil Matthews back to an abrupt consciousness, 
and he lifted his head just in time to see the brutal impalement of his 
naked girl friend. A red fog of silent rage rolled over his mind and he 
began working furiously at the wires around his wrists which were holding 
him prisoner, quietly vowing that he was going to kill these animals 
regardless of the consequences. The timid, mild-mannered English teacher had 
disappeared forever. This was the woman he loved, and he knew he was going 
to commit murder to right the wrongs being done to her! But how? Ash and 
Jose were obviously working their way up to a lust-fueled homicidal fury, 
and he would be lucky if he escaped with his life. 

At the moment, the possibility of revenge seemed distinctly remote. He was a 
hopeless prisoner, and Kathy Barton was sprawled helplessly naked and 
spread-eagled on the filthy floor, virtually buried beneath a two hundred 
seventy-five pound mountain of fat and muscle. From his vantage point at the 
door, Phil could see Chubs' horrendously large cock piercing her almost to 
the hilt, stretching the delicate pink flesh of the young teacher's cunt 
wider than he would have believed possible. For the moment, Chubs lay 
happily where he was, letting the length and breadth of his long battering 
pole pulsate wildly within Kathy's overburdened vagina. Then, with a grunt 
more animal than human, he went to work, fucking ruthlessly into her with 
long savage strokes, each push sending the blood-filled tip of his pole-like 
instrument all the way home up into the moistly palpitating recesses of her 
sensitive womb. Every vicious thrust brought a renewed groan of agony to the 
young woman's open parched lips, and Phil Matthews was going quickly out of 
his mind with mental distress as he watched Chubs batter her methodically 
into submission. The helplessly impaled woman moaned and twitched 
ceaselessly under this brutal jungle assault, crying out in sheer torment as 
Chubs reached behind him to seize her quivering thighs and hoist her legs up 
in the air, giving himself the fullest possible access to her defenseless 
little cunt. 

"Oh please, God, oh Phil, make him stop!" she groaned insanely, knowing that 
the other teacher was as helpless as she was, but unable to restrain the 
agonized words which were tumbling from her throat. 

"Shut up, bitch," snapped Ash menacingly. "The next time if there is a next 
time you'll remember to keep your big mouth shut!" 

Chubs then found his own way of quieting her, plastering his thick lips 
against her mouth, his tongue burrowing into her open mouth as he 
unmercifully fucked into her, his fingers digging sadistically into the soft 
warm mounds of her breasts. 

Matthews had ceased worrying now about the humiliation and pain to which 
Kathy was being subjected and was now seriously concerned that they were 
going to kill her, quite literally fucking her to death. His naked girl 
friend's succulently tempting body was nearly bent in two, and Chubs' long 
marauding cock was pistoning faster and faster into the glistening pink 
flesh of her savagely violated young cunt, and Matthews could hear the harsh 
mocking sound of Chubs' sperm-filled balls as they slammed rhythmically into 
the undefended crevice between her trembling ass-cheeks. He tried to close 
his eyes with grief, but found it impossible, noticing with chagrin at the 
same time that his own neglected cock was standing up hard and firm as if he 
were going to be next in line. 

He was ashamed, more ashamed than he had ever been in his life, but, in 
fact, this was the most erotic scene he had ever witnessed and his body was 
reacting independently of his mind. The irony of the situation struck him 
like a hammer. He alone among all the men in the room sincerely loved this 
girl, and yet he had been condemned to stand and watch, a useless erection 
in his pants, while a vicious criminal from the slums fucked her senseless! 

And Chubs was hitting his stride now, apparently driven half-mad by the 
undisputed possession of this magnificent sexual toy, skewering into her 
nakedness with the same inhuman strength he displayed on the football field. 

Phil Matthews struggled mightily as he sought to pull the whole rickety 
school building down on top of them like Samson destroying the heathen 
temple in a final moment of self-destructive sensual fury. Kathy's face was 
distorted into a mask of pain as she squirmed and writhed futilely in a 
useless attempt to escape from this battering-ram assault, groaning as the 
man's powerful cock seemed to expand and grow with every renewed stroke. 
Chubs' face, in turn, had been transformed into sheer jungle savagery as he 
moved himself closer and closer to the climax he desired. There was 
obviously no thought on his part of giving any pleasure to the woman who lay 
struggling beneath him; he wanted to hurt, to punish, to humiliate, to 
degrade, and if he killed her in the process, than that was just tough luck 
as far as the others were concerned. 

The whole room seemed transformed into silence as Chubs hit the high point 
of his roller coaster ride. A low elephant-like trumpet of victory emerged 
from the fat man's throat, and his heavy muscular hips slammed forward for 
one last extra deep penetration as the lewdly searing liquid began to spurt 
out of him, spraying unceasingly into the moistly quivering depths of her 
abused young cunt. Matthews failed to suppress a groan as he caught sight of 
the depraved liquid oozing out around Chubs's wildly ejaculating cock and 
dribbling along the sleek inner surfaces of Kathy's widely spread thighs. 

The young biology teacher threw her head to one side and groaned as Chubs 
came endlessly into her outraged vagina, her legs falling limply to the 
floor as if she realized that there was no longer any reason to resist. What 
had been done, had been done. She had been fucked to within an inch of her 
life in the presence of a man she was falling in love with and she knew that 
neither one of them would ever forget this scene as long as they lived, 
assuming either one of them survived this bizarre experience. 

Abruptly, Chubs yanked his slowly deflating cock out of her sorely misused 
little cunt, with a lewd sucking sound. He rolled over onto his buttocks 
with a stupid grin on his massive face, as if he expected a round of 
applause for his magnificent accomplishment. Kathy lay where he left her, 
legs still widely spread and her arms outstretched in a helpless, hopeless 
position. They could do no worse than this, she was telling herself. It made 
no difference what torments they inflicted upon her defenseless body now. 
She had struck bottom. Or had she? 

"Yer next, Jose," grinned Ash, anxious to get at her himself, but also 
enjoying the power he held over the others in the room. This time, he 
decided who would do what to whom, not that bastard Swift. After tonight, 
Bud Swift would no longer be able to give orders and expect obedience from 
these two or any of the others. It was his show now, and he meant to enjoy 
it. 

"Oh man, how I'm gonna love fucking this," commented Jose sadistically 
stripping off his shirt as he walked toward the motionless girl. "I figure 
ol' Chubs has messed your cunt up for awhile, Teach, so I'll jus' give it a 
rest. On yer knees, bitch!" 

Kathy opened her eyes and looked at him blankly, not understanding what he 
meant. As she watched, the slender wiry football player stepped out of his 
pants, removing his belt and stood before her as naked as she, the belt in 
his hand. 

"The last time we did this, Teach, you had other things on your mind, and 
you weren't concentratin' like you shoulda. This time, I wanna see you put 
some tongue into it!" 

With an abrupt agile movement, Jose reached quickly down and seized the 
dazed woman by the hair, yanking her cruelly to her knees. When she 
protested feebly, he viciously struck at her unprotected buttocks with his 
belt, bringing a shriek of agony from the girl. 

Matthews, more experienced in these matters, knew exactly what Jose was 
talking about, and dread filled his heart at the thought. Assuming the two 
of them managed to get out of this in one piece, could Kathy ever look him 
in the face again, knowing he had been an unwilling witness to all that had 
happened, and all that was going to happen? He had to do something, even if 
he only got another beating for his pains and it came as a violent shock to 
him that he was not frightened anymore. Slowly and cautiously, he began to 
work on the wire which bound him to the door. It was heavy-duty electrical 
wire, but the English teacher knew enough about science to know that wire 
suffers from metal fatigue and breaks when twisted back and forth in the 
same spot often enough. No one was paying much attention to him at the 
moment and he went to work, bending and rebending the wire again and again. 

Jose was bending over the submissively kneeling girl now, his agile hands 
deftly exploring the mysteries of her tender lust-arousing body as he 
deliberately excited himself, pinching and kneading her provocatively 
swaying breasts. Kathy knew better than to fight back now, understanding the 
significance of the belt he held in his hand. If she offered the slightest 
resistance, this depraved child of the slums was quite capable of whipping 
her cheerfully to death while the others looked on with amusement. His hands 
found their way into her long, silken brown hair, and she found herself 
compelled to look directly at the eagerly pulsating cock which was jerking 
obscenely in her face only inches from her trembling lips. 

"Now, I'm gonna do you a favor and give that little pussy a rest," Jose went 
on sadistically, taking a half step closer so that the pungent tip of his 
rigid cock actually brushed across the surface of her lips. "Jus' open that 
sweet little mouth of yours." 

As if to emphasize the point, Jose released her hair and guided his long 
slender cock up to her tightly clenched lips, and rubbing it obscenely 
around the corners of her mouth. Kathy closed her eyes, knowing she could 
willingly never do this, not even if they killed her. Nothing on earth could 
make her voluntarily open her mouth . . . 

"Ahhh!" she cried in sudden surprise as Jose's belt whistled in the air and 
cut brutally into the tender flesh of her fearfully trembling ass-cheeks, 
and as her mouth popped open to scream in pain, the clever young athlete 
took immediate advantage of the situation, flicking his hips forward, 
blocking her moan as he filled her mouth with the length of his hotly 
throbbing penis. 

"Now start sucking, baby," he ordered, "and here's something to remind you 
what's gonna happen if you don't make me real happy." 

Out of the corner of her eyes, Kathy saw his free arm flash through the air, 
but nothing could have prepared her for the pain she felt when the 
ornamental iron buckle of the belt slashed across her naked shoulders. Her 
scream was muffled by the continuing presence of his vilely pulsing cock in 
her mouth, and her violated young body jerked forward convulsively to escape 
the pain, an action which only had the effect of driving his invading penis 
further towards the back of her throat. 

"Suck!" 

Kathy knew precisely what was going to happen if she disobeyed, and with 
her, fear struggled with the desire to hang onto some particle of her own 
dignity. She could hardly stop them from raping her if they wanted to, but 
performing this obscene act in front of her boy friend called for a degree 
of active participation on her part. But she saw Jose raising his arm again, 
and she caved in immediately, beginning to nibble slightly and closing her 
wetly ovaled lips around the long pulsating object she held in her mouth. 
She had done this all once before, but then she had been drugged and 
battered into semi-consciousness. It was different this time, and the sense 
of being humiliated and degraded was much stronger. But there was no way 
out; she had to do it, or they would kill her! 

Jose smiled lewdly as he felt the warm suction on his cock increase and saw 
the girl's cheeks hollow inwardly as she began to suck on him in earnest. 

"Come on baby," he mocked her. "Just pretend I'm your faggoty boy friend 
over there, and you might even enjoy it. Or isn't his cock big enough to 
bother with?" 

Phil Matthews might have reacted angrily to this crude sexual insult, 
particularly since in fact, his penis was as big as any of theirs, but at 
the moment he had other things on his mind. He had just broken through one 
of the two wires attaching him to the door, and was now transferring his 
attentions to the other one. His fingers were tired, and he could feel the 
warm trickle of blood flowing down over his hands where the wire had cut 
deeply into his wrists, but he had mastered the technique now and knew he 
could be free in another ten minutes of hard work. What would happen then 
was anyone's guess. If only he could get his hands on that gun! 

"Come on you beautiful little cock-sucker . . . suck harder!" 

Kathy responded to the threat by laboring even harder, using her tongue to 
excite him, realizing the sooner she could coax him into an orgasm, the 
sooner all of this would come to whatever end it was all destined to come 
to. An observer who was ignorant of the situation would have guessed 
mistakenly that she was enjoying it at this point, since she pressed her 
ovaled lips tightly around his jabbing cock as his hard muscular buttocks 
jerked convulsively back and forth into her face, and he muttered one 
obscene comment after another as he stared down cruelly at her bobbing head. 
Every stroke seemed to carry him farther and farther down into her throat, 
and the tortured young woman could feel the smooth rubbery tip of his 
elongated cock brushing vilely against the back of her mouth which was 
rapidly filling with his excited pre-ejaculate. 

Jose looked down on her with lewd satisfaction as he felt his moment of 
triumph approaching. Here was the haughty lady teacher who stood at the 
front of the class and dared to deliver lectures on biology to real men like 
him! Somehow she did not look quite so high and mighty now, kneeling humbly 
before him with his long slender cock fucking its way in and out of her 
tightly ovaled red lips! He wanted to take her all the way down to the 
bottom of the barrel with him, to make her swallow his depraved semen so 
that she would know to the ends of her days that she was no better than he 
was. 

Kathy was conscious of the fact that her knees were hurting and that a dull 
ache was beginning to form somewhere in her spine from the unnatural 
position into which she had been forced, but most of all she sensed that the 
man who was ruthlessly fucking into her mouth was nearing his own moment of 
truth, on the verge of spewing his vile cum into the depths of her throat. 

But still it came faster than she expected! There was a brief warning groan 
from somewhere up above her, and the next thing she knew, Jose was gripping 
her head tightly from both sides so that there was no possible way of 
avoiding the evil blessing he was about to bestow upon her. The warm thick 
jet sprayed venomously into the back of her throat as he came and the girl 
gurgled and choked as she struggled to swallow his depraved semen, having no 
choice about the matter. 

He held her vise-like for a long moment, emptying his loins into her as if 
her mouth were simply another cunt, another available repository for his 
sperm. And when he was finished, he threw her aside like a rag doll, yanking 
his deflated glistening cock from her battered abused mouth and turning to 
face his fellow thugs with a satisfied grin. 

"I'm next," decided Ash, now beside himself with unsatisfied lust. The sight 
of his two cohorts abusing the girl had aroused within him the foul desire 
to do something really perverse, really evil. His position as head of the 
gang was at stake here, and he had to prove himself meaner and crueler than 
any of the others. And he thought he knew just how to accomplish it. There 
was only one thing you could do to this woman that they had not already 
done, and he was just the man to do it! 

Tossing the pistol on top of Jose's clothing, he gazed at the broken 
defeated young girl with a lewd smile as he began to strip off his pants, 
knowing that as she lay there in a heap she was wondering what new horrors 
were going to be heaped upon her nakedly defenseless body. Matthews did not 
look as if he were going to make any trouble either, since the school 
teacher was standing still, his hands still tightly bound behind his back, 
his head bowed against his chest in the traditional posture of a defeated 
man. 

"You boys get a hold of her," he ordered as he dropped the last article of 
his clothing on the floor and walked threateningly towards the cowering, 
intimidated young woman. "Sometimes they get a little wiggly when I play my 
kinda games." 

The gang knew instantly what he was talking about even though Kathy was 
mystified. What else was there to do? Every time she thought they had 
dropped her all the way to the basement there was always another button on 
the elevator, and they managed to take her even lower. What now? She asked 
herself in silent horror as Chubs rolled her crudely over onto her stomach 
and Jose hoisted her up on her knees, so that she crouched with her buttocks 
waving defenselessly up in the air while the heavy, sensuous mounds of her 
breasts were squeezed against the cold surface of the linoleum. 

Matthews almost pitched forward on his face as the last strand of wire 
broke, releasing him from the door. No one was looking at him now and even 
though his hands were still bound behind him, there was an outside chance he 
could slip out the entrance way and dart down the stairs before anyone 
looked up and missed him. They were all too preoccupied with the girl to 
devote much attention to him and maybe he should run while he had the chance 
. . . 

Shaking his head, the English teacher dismissed this cowardly idea, and 
grimly went to work on the wire which was pinning his wrists together. In 
another few minutes, his arms would be free, and then he could act. In the 
meantime, he drew strength from the hatred building up inside of him, 
ignored the blood dripping from his hands where the wire was biting into the 
flesh, and went back to work twisting the cable endlessly back and forth. He 
knew full well what Ash was planning to do to Kathy, but there was no way he 
could stop him just now. He would have to content himself with revenge, and 
that would come later. 

"What. . . what do you intend to do?" quavered Kathy, sensing that something 
very sinister was in the air. Ash was maneuvering into position behind her, 
probing between her legs with his rigidly extended penis. If he was going to 
take her dog fashion, why didn't he simply go ahead and do it? Why prolong 
the agony? 

But the gang leader had other plans, and his hands swarmed delightedly over 
the unprotected surfaces of her buttocks, twisting and clawing at the two 
delectable globes as if he wanted to tear her ass-cheeks apart. 

"Oh please . . . " she groaned unhappily as she felt Ash's outstretched 
middle finger invading the crevice between her buttocks. Was he just trying 
to upset her or humiliate her some more? Why was he running his fingers over 
her fearfully puckering anus? 

"Ah man, that's the tightest little cherry I've ever seen," Ash boasted to 
his cohorts lewdly. "I'm gonna have me a real time with that little 
asshole." 

Suddenly it all became horrifyingly clear. Kathy had heard whispered rumors 
about this particular perversion before, and she understood immediately that 
this sadistic monster intended to violate the only other opening into her 
tormented body. It was impossible! Only animals did things like that! They 
would kill her! 

"Better open 'er up a little," Ash commented critically. "Never get it in 
the way she is." 

There was a moment's probing around the outer edges of the tiny fragile 
elastic circle, and then with a sudden unexpected movement, Ash shoved his 
big middle finger forward, sinking it immediately into her as far as the 
first knuckle. 

"Uggggghhh!" Kathy groaned in abject humiliation, surprised that it did not 
hurt worse than it did. For a moment, Ash labored silently behind her, 
rotating his finger around in ever-expanding circles in an attempt to widen 
the nether entrance to her loins, and then he added a second finger to the 
first, and it really started to hurt. 

"Oh please don't.. . " she begged, now beginning to let herself go and no 
longer caring in the slightest whether her dignity suffered or not. "Please, 
do it some other way! Don't touch me there!" 

The only response was a round of depraved laughter from the three naked 
hoodlums, and Kathy felt Ash moving even closer, nudging her legs farther 
apart in order to give himself unrestricted access to the whole flat plane 
of her loins. She told herself that this was the end. If the pain and 
humiliation did not kill her, then the physical act of being penetrated in 
the rectum would certainly finish her. A man like Phil Matthews would never 
look at her again. She was finished, ruined for life! 

Suddenly there was a popping sound in the air as Ash pulled his fingers free 
of her offended anus, and for a moment she dared to hope that he had had his 
depraved fun and would now proceed to fuck her in the normal fashion. But 
the hope was in vain. No sooner had his fingers left the widened entrance 
when the hard bodied thug moved in close, guiding the heavy blood-engorged 
tip of his cock directly up to the pink-rimmed circle of her rectum. She 
tried to shrink away in horror, but Jose and Chubs nearly crushed the breath 
out of her as they held her firmly in place. 

"Come on, Ash-baby, ram it in there!" Jose encouraged him lewdly. 

But the new gang leader needed no advice from his friends. He had never done 
this to a woman before, but he had dreamed about it for years, and now he 
had his chance. His hands pressing out on either side of the fearfully 
puckering anus, he probed into the opening with his cock as Kathy began 
emitting one soul-shaking moan after another. 

"Hold 'er down, damn it," he snarled, and pushed, putting all the weight in 
his big athlete's body into it. The tight anal ring fought back valiantly 
for a split second, but the pressure was too great and his thick cock 
plunged into the depths of her anus, stretching her in a way that she had 
never been stretched before. For a moment, the pain was too intense to allow 
her the luxury of uttering a sound. Then the hopelessly violated young 
school teacher put her head back, filled her lungs with air and screamed 
with all her might. 

* * * 

For the second time in that evening, a man stood in the deserted playground 
below and listened to a woman's scream break the stifling muggy air of the 
Ken Central night. This time it was Bud Swift who caught the sound. He had 
come here desperately desiring to be alone, having decided that it would be 
a good place to think. Assuming that Chubs, Jose, and Ash would have gone 
home, he had decided to climb up to their hide-away, read his book, and 
maybe drink himself into a stupor with whatever was left of the whiskey. In 
the morning, he would have to try to decide what to do. One thing had been 
certain in his mind; he had to make some sort of attempt to make up to Miss 
Barton and Phil Matthews. It did not matter if it took him the rest of his 
life, but ultimately they had to understand that he had not meant things to 
turn out the way they had. He was going to college next year by hook or by 
crook he decided, and when he came back, he would apply for a job teaching 
at Ken Central. Perhaps the two of them would still be there when he 
graduated, arid perhaps they would have decided to forgive him. Or perhaps 
not, but he would make the effort anyway. There was a lot of evil in him, 
but he sensed with a growing elation that made him want to weep that there 
had to be some good as well. 

But now there was this scream. For a moment he questioned his sanity. Could 
it have been his imagination? Jesus Christ! It sounded like Kathy Barton's 
voice, but it was difficult to identify a voice from a scream. But if it was 
Miss Barton . . . if she was in trouble . . . he wasted no more time on 
speculation. There were stairs to be climbed before he would know what the 
situation was. If it was Kathy, he had to help her, and Swift stuck the 
paperback book into his pocket and headed for the stairs at a run. 

* * * 

The moment his cock was inside the warm buttery depths of her rectum, Ash 
wasted no more time, not really caring whether he was hurting her or not. 
Chuckling obscenely to himself, the young athlete began fucking in and out 
of the heated softness of her tight little nether passage, bringing sob 
after sob of misery to her lips. Each stroke seemed to go deeper than the 
one before it, and on the back stroke, tiny fragile ridges of flesh seemed 
to cling to the hardened shaft of his penis as Ash delighted in the warm 
enveloping flesh pressing in on his thick pistoning penis from all sides. 

Kathy's cum-soaked body jerked and quivered, her resistance now shattered 
beyond all possible hope of repair. The pain was great, but the teacher had 
learned in the past few hours to live with pain. However, this was the final 
complete humiliation of a woman, and she pictured how she must look to Phil 
Matthews as she knelt in slavish submission before the man who was 
sodomizing her lasviciously from behind. It felt as if the great trunk of a 
tree had suddenly been thrust up inside of her rectum, and every time Ash's 
pulsating rod came vilely plunging into her, she could feel her entire body 
convulse in distress, as if the muscles of her anus were being stretched 
beyond the point of no return. 

The natural lubricating juices inside of the young woman's body began to 
flow, and Ash could feel that his movements were now easier and even more 
pleasurable. No man alive could have stood this intense pressure for long, 
and Ash knew that his ride was going to be short but intense. But then 
something happened that almost made him lose his erection. Stunningly, the 
kneeling naked woman beneath him shuddered twice and moaned like a lost soul 
in hell. 

"Jesus Christ," Jose said, not really believing the evidence, "she's 
cumming." 

Kathy wailed again and then began thrusting her nakedly churning buttocks 
back harder against the thick invading pole of flesh. 

Ash grinned in lewd triumph and began fucking deeper up into the convulsing 
teacher's rectum. 

"Cumming in a minute," he grunted to his companions who were watching this 
depraved spectacle with lascivious enjoyment. 

No one was paying much attention to Phil Matthews. The sweat running down 
his forehead from the exertion, the school teacher kept his hands clenched 
tightly behind him even though he had finally broken through the last strand 
of wire. He was in a strange frame of mind, and only a trained psychologist 
could have explained it clearly. One side of his brain was boiling with a 
savage hatred, for the other three men in the room, but another whole part 
of him was coldly calculating his movements. He was only three steps away 
from the gun, and he studied it carefully out of the corner of his eye, 
observing accurately that Ash had left the safety lock in the "on" position, 
meaning that he would have to cock the weapon and release the safety before 
it could be fired. Mentally, he paced off the three quick steps to the pile 
of clothing, knowing from prior bitter experience just how fast Chubs could 
move when he wanted to, and knowing that just once in his life he had to 
move much faster. 

* * * 

Bud Swift heard the first shot as he climbed the last flight of stairs to 
the gang's hideaway, and he did not pause to think of who might be shooting 
at whom but threw all his energy into the last mad dash to the room where 
Kathy Barton might be. He hurled himself into the room, the momentum of his 
charge carrying him into the middle of the fray, and he tripped over the 
corpulent body of Chubs who was lying face down on the floor half-way 
between the mattress and the corner where Phil Matthews stood with the gun 
held steadily in his hand. The big man had evidently moved very fast to have 
gotten that far, but not quite fast enough, since there was a bullet hole 
the size of a bean on one side of his head, and on the other side the entire 
ear was gone with brain matter splattered all over the floor. 

For an instant, Swift felt as if he had stumbled onto the set of a motion 
picture. Jose rose like lightning, moving towards the door and a fraction of 
a second later, the young football player's chest exploded outward in red as 
Matthews pumped two soft-nosed shells from the thirty-eight caliber revolver 
into his torso. Yanking himself free of the violated woman's body, Ash was 
on his knees, his hands covering his face as if he could somehow make the 
bullets go away if he did not see them. Matthews stepped forward, his hands 
steady and calm, and deliberately shot him once in the head. Ash was slammed 
backward against the wall, and Swift watched as the girl scrambled nakedly 
out of the way to avoid being covered by the red fountain of blood spurting 
from his body and a white fountain of cum spurting from a cock which would 
never rise again. . 

"No, Phil, no!" came Kathy's scream, but Bud Swift knew she was wasting her 
breath, and turned his head to one side as Matthews fired. The first bullet 
hit him about two inches below the shoulder on the left side of his chest, 
and he did not feel it although the impact sent him reeling backwards 
against the wall. Matthews fired again, the last bullet in the pistol, and 
Swift felt nothing at all. A wave of warm blackness engulfed him as he 
slumped to the floor and knocked over the kerosene lantern. 

"Come on, get your clothes!" Phil snapped at the sobbing girl as if he were 
angry at her, stooping to the floor to pick up the remains of her skirt. 

"You killed him," shy muttered, frozen stock still by all that happened. 
"You killed them all." 

"They . . . I executed them," Matthews replied as the flames from the 
kerosene lantern licked at the wooden beams near Swift's corpse. "Come on, 
this place will go up like a tinder box!" 

The growing heat from the rapidly spreading fire brought her to her senses, 
and Kathy stumbled to her feet, fastening the skirt around her naked loins. 
The blouse had been torn to shreds and Matthews handed her Ash's shirt, 
urging her towards the door. There was no chance now of putting out the fire 
and no reason to try. The building was due to be destroyed anyway and no one 
would think to look among the ashes for the bodies of four hoodlums who had 
mysteriously disappeared. No one would care, and only the police files would 
remain to testify that Chubs, or Jose, or Ash, or Bud Swift had ever really 
existed in the first place. 

"Come on!" shouted Matthews, the steel in the man's character showing 
clearly now. "I want to be away from here before the police arrive!" 

"Wait, there's a book," Kathleen Barton mumbled, ducking to pick up a 
tattered paperback which had fallen out of Swift's back pocket. By the light 
of the fire, she could barely make out the title. It was called The Voyage 
of the Beagle written by Charles Darwin. 

Her eyes blinded by a flood of scalding tears, she clenched the book in one 
hand as Matthews seized the other and led her quickly down the darkened 
staircase. 

In the distance they could hear the sirens and behind them was the angry 
roar of hell as the fires consumed the damned. 


THE END
