Chapter 3

To drive the terrible memories of John Atkins from her mind, Jill did not attend classes for the remaining part of the week. She told her mother that a bad case of mononucleosis was going around and her Physical Ed teacher thought it best she stay home for several days. The big football game with arch rival Kearny High School was coming up, explained Jill, and the coach wanted all the cheerleaders in top form to cheer on the team.

It was a flimsy excuse, but in the way of mothers, Mrs. Watson took it hook, line and sinker.

Jill stayed in bed and spent the time reading books. She was an avid reader, mostly Gothic romance novels, and imagined herself as one of the heroines. In her mind she could see herself as a Southern belle during the Civil War fighting the bluecoats while waiting for the return of her Confederate lover. She was always courageous in those daydreams, but she wondered what she would really do if kidnapped by violent, dangerous men. She realized that desperate men very often behave in depraved ways. They could do anything they wanted, she thought. There had been a girl in school who had been picked up by several older men and forced to have sex with both of them. The attack caused quite a commotion at school and the girl had to drop out for a year. Jill didn't blame the girl, but she wondered what would she, Jill Watson, have done if two men forced her into a sex act.

Foolish daydream, thought Jill. Still, there was no denying warmth that rippled through her breasts. Her nipples, always the barometer of her sexual excitement, were hard, little points.

Her books had described the heroines as strong-willed women who out-witted their lusty, degenerate attackers.

Maybe that was not the, way it happened, Jill thought. Her heart pounded crazily as her mind conjured up the scenes the authors had so carefully omitted.

She imagined herself locked in a dungeon, her arms secured by shackles. The clothes were ripped from her body. Her prized breasts were the object of much licking and sucking. She realized that men could do anything to her. In her fantasy she saw John Atkins spread out her thighs and plunge his fingers into her most private parts. She imagined his wedge shaped prick flicking before the dark face of her pleasure mound before lunging into her sex tube.

"Oh, God, how awful," she said. The fantasy overwhelmed her, and she became its prisoner. Atkins plunged his cock into her opening again and again until he screamed wildly and Jill felt the warm gush of semen spread through her channel. She gasped, for as Atkins withdrew his wilted tool, he yelled out, "All right, matey, you next." And for the first time she saw that Atkins was not alone in her dream, that behind him were queued up half a dozen men waiting their turn.

"That couldn't happen," Jill said out loud. "I wouldn't let those men take advantage of my womanhood." And yet there was a kernel of truth in her dream. Somewhere in the back of her mind a small voice was trying to tell her something, though she had no idea what it was.

Jill felt excited about returning to school. She was up an hour early and laid out her clothes carefully. A full length mirror was secured to her bedroom door and Jill would stand before it and watch herself dress.

First went the tiny panties. Then the sheer pan-ty hose. The nylon fabric clung to her legs as she rolled them on. And the top panel felt secure against the curve of her pubic mound.

She paused for a brief glimpse of her well-rounded body in the mirror. The rounded breasts with the hard nipple ends stared back at her. She smiled impishly and felt a sudden desire to thrust both hands into the panty hose top and rub her cunt. Aren't you the holy terror, she thought, putting on the low cut bra. John Atkins or not, Jill was determined to look her best. And she liked the support the bra gave her, cupping her breasts like two gentle hands while the top part left the skin bare right down to the nipple. Normally she wore a sweater, but today she felt like trying a blouse. Showing off her well developed chest had first been a cause of embarrassment. But she had grown to like her tits and showing them off made her feel deliciously feminine. On went the blouse and the blue mini, and making final adjustments, Jill was ready for school.

Biology was her favorite class and she always rushed to her seat which was in the first row. Most of her friends couldn't stand the dull technical lectures, but she found them stimulating. It never ceased to amaze her how many different species of animals there were in the world.

The professor, Al Sweeney, was a thin, well built man still in his early thirties, though the Walrus moustache and dark Granny glasses made him appear much younger. He had taught biology for three years and found it to be an incredibly dull subject to teach. So to liven things up, Sweeney spent countless hours pouring over scientific quarterlies looking for shocking bits of information to generate interest in his class. Today he had an exceptionally interesting topic.

"The gibbet cat has strange ways of mating," Sweeney was saying, "because the females attack the males." Sweeney gazed straight ahead, but he managed to kept Jill Watson in his view. Watching her breasts had become a pastime for him, and class was not the same when she had been absent. "This may seem hard to believe, but when the gibbet cat comes into heat, she corners the first male around and literally mates him to death!" Sweeney emphasized the final word and got the expected giggling and chuckling that he wanted. "And not just one male, but dozens of gibbets. And savage copulation goes on for many hours, sometimes days until the female is satisfied."

Jill frowned. It seemed impossible for such a brutal act to go on in nature. Even animals had a conscience, she was convinced. She looked up with a frown on her face and saw that Mr. Sweeney was staring right at her.

"You appear not to believe me, Miss Watson," he said. A bemused smile crossed his face as if he could read her carefully hidden thoughts.

Jill was terrified. "Well... a-a," she began. But in mid-sentence she stopped for the intense sensation of sex was upon her. She didn't know what had done it, but her cunt was thoroughly wet.

"You see, Miss Watson, species of the animal kingdom are not constructed like you and I," he said evenly. "Nature has given every animal specie a way of reproducing its own. And, believe me, there are countless ways of mating. So if the gibbet's way seems strange and unnatural, well, it should because humans don't mate that way."

"Yes, they do," said a high pitched voice in the back of the room. For a frantic moment, Jill imagined John Atkins standing up and telling the class what had happen in the front seat of the convertible.

Sweeney groaned silently to himself. "Do you having something to say, Mr. Bridges." Every class had a trouble maker, thought Sweeney, but Jeff Bridges was that rarity: A troublemaker who didn't mean to be one.

"There're lots of girls who have to have more than one man during mating season," the frail looking boy argued. "I've heard of gang bangs where chicks take on twenty guys."

The classroom burst into laughter as the hour bell rang. "That's a dumb question, Bridges," snapped Sweeney. "And I won't have that gutter talk in my classroom. Class dismissed!"

Sweeney turned to Jill and stood before her in an almost apologetic pose. He loomed over her and tried to avoid looking down her cleavage. "I'm sorry for the interruption," he said. "But as I was saying, all acts are natural in nature. And what might seem strange or in the sense we're talking about ... perverted, doesn't mean the rest of the animal kingdom sees things that way."

Jill rose from the desk, painfully aware of the wetness between her legs. "I think I understand, Mr. Sweeney. And thank you."

Sweeney watched the young girl run off and felt strangely attached to the young girl, in a way that he never had for other students.

He grinned, feeling his cock rise up in his shorts. Ah well, he thought Such is the sex life of a high school professor.