Chapter 3
For the next three days Linda said little to anyone. Her mother and father suspected something had happened to her that evening when she came home late from her aunt's. But the pretty young girl denied anything had happened, claiming she'd met one of her friends-Tina Stafford-on the road and the two of them wound up talking until late. Fortunately her parents hadn't seen her when she walked through the kitchen door and sneaked up the stairs to her bedroom where she cried herself to sleep.
"Linda, why do I have to say we talked late that night?" Tina asked her that afternoon when the young blonde phoned her.
"I'll tell you later. Please, Tina, just tell me you'll tell my mother what I said," the girl begged desperately. Tina agreed, wondering as she hung up the phone what had happened to her best friend.
On the fourth day after the brutal double rape Linda found her mother insisting again that she go to town and try to find a job. She'd graduated from high school that June. It was August already, and all she could do was sit around the house and look like some queen. Linda had heard those words before and closed her eyes wearily, trying to block out those whining phrases that nearly drove her crazy. Especially now the young girl wanted to be left alone.
But her mother was merciless, nearly yelling at her until the girl finally agreed to take the extra car and drive into Brockton that afternoon. As she stood naked in front of the bedroom mirror about to dress, Linda saw the scratches and red marks still around her ass and thighs-marks given to her by Chet and Al when they so brutally ripped her virginity away from her.
It still seemed like an awful dream, something she'd dreamed up in the darkest fantasy trip she'd ever taken. But the marks told her what had happened was real. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stepped into the pink silk panties and pulled them up over her hairy little cunny mound. She thought of Al's big fat dick peeling back her lips, sinking into the hot morass of her swampy pussy until his cockhairs tickled the sensitive membranes of her inner cunny lips. She shuddered, feeling hot-cold chills running up and down her skin. Her flesh puckered up into goose pimples. No, no, she couldn't let herself think of that brutal rape in such delicious images. It was awful, perverted what had happened to her. And yet secretly Linda hoped something like that would happen to her again.
Tucking her pullover into her slacks, Linda slung her shoulder bag purse over her arm and ran down the stairs, kissing her mother lightly on the cheek before running out the door.
"I called Mr. Bronson at the card shop on Second Street. He says he'll be glad to talk to you about a part-time job while you're still thinking about college," her mother said in her usual pushy way.
Linda smiled, waved, then drove the twenty miles into town. The interview with the old man went better than she thought, although the young girl had her doubts about Mr. Bronson. She noticed the way his eyes kept roaming over her thighs, moving up along the tit-swells of her sweater until they came to rest on her face with a kind of leering stare. She felt panic rise like bile in her throat, remembering the look in Chet's eyes as he crouched poised over her upturned ass that night in the woods. It was the same kind of perverted, lustful leer that nearly drove her screaming from the store. But the teenager fought back the terror and grief, smiled and tried to ignore the pinching motions Bronson was making with his fingers-pinching movements that reminded her of Al's manipulations of her stiff nipples that evening.
"You can start today. I'll call your mother," he said, pointing to the card display at the front of the store while he started moving toward the rear storeroom. Linda hadn't counted on such immediate hiring and working. But she thought about how she had been brooding on the rape and her response to it. Maybe work would help her forget. And the chances of running into Al and Chet who lived only a few miles from her Parents' home were less here in the crowded downtown area of Brocton. Later she could think of running away to Boston if need be. , The remainder of the afternoon passed quickly, a large number of customers coming in and keeping Bronson's roaming hands busier on the cash register than on Linda's body.
"Time to close up," Bronson said, glancing down at his wristwatch, then running his stubby fingers through his thinning hair. He was forty-three, short, plump, reminding Linda of an overripe prune. Still, he was paying her, keeping her mother off her back, and giving her time to think things out.
"I'll see you then tomorrow, Mr. Bronson," Linda said, stepping quickly from behind the counter and opening the front door before the little man could make it to her. He stared disappointedly at her as she stepped into the street and waved cheerfully good-bye.
Slipping into her car and slamming the door shut, Linda fished out the keys from her purse and inserted them in the ignition. Nothing happened. She tried again and again, but with the same result. The girl slumped back defeated in her seat.
"Something wrong, Linda?"
The girl twisted her head around and saw Mr. Bronson leaning on the door of her father's car and peering like an owl into the interior.
"The car. It-it won't start," Linda stammered, feeling uneasy being caught in a situation like this. She felt a scream rising in her throat for some strange reason, although she fought down the desire once more and tried to smile.
"I'll give you a lift home if you don't mind," Mr. Bronson said easily, opening the door for her before Linda had a chance to answer. Actually, she would have preferred calling Tina's father and asking him to get her. Her own father was in Boston with her mother's car and wouldn't be home until late. But still Bronson was her new boss and Linda didn't want to offend him.
The drive back was quiet. Linda sat all the way over on the passenger's side of the seat in spite of encouraging motions made by Bronson for her to snuggle a little closer to him. It was getting dark, as they turned off the main highway onto the road that ran past her aunt's home to her house. She felt herself shriveling up as they passed the spot where she first met Al and Chet that night.
"Something wrong?" Linda had let out a tiny sob of fear and a tear was rolling down her cheek.
"No, nothing," she said sullenly, wiping the tear away and staring out the side window. She vowed to leave Brockton soon. She couldn't stay, not after what had happened to her. She felt dirty, vile. Linda couldn't face her family and friends-not after what those horrible boys had done to her.
"Where are we going?" she asked nervously as they made another turn and started rocking slowly down a narrow dirt road. The sudden change in route cut through her train of thought.
"Come on, honey. We can get friendly. I'll give you a raise if you give me one," Bronson said, stopping the car with a jerk and quickly turning off the motor. Linda felt her skin crawl as she reached out and slashed the air with her fingernails. It was too dark where they were parked for her to see Bronson well.
"Little bitch," he growled. Linda felt a strong set of fingers wrap around her left arm, pulling her struggling across the seat toward the steering wheel. She screamed and twisted as much as she could, clawing the little fat man's arms and neck with her fingernails.
But Bronson was stronger than she'd anticipated. His perverted lust added strength to his stubby arms and enabled him to pin the girl down against the back of the front seat. She could feel his breath blowing against her exposed throat. There was the stench of foul breath invading her nostrils. Then his rubbery lips were on her throat, sliding up and down her flesh while his hands fumbled for her breasts.
"Oh God, not again," Linda cried, finding strength to push him away and roll to the right. Bronson grabbed her again by the arm. But the girl managed to shake him free long enough to open the door and roll out onto the dirt.
"Come back here, you little bitch," Bronson shouted from the car as Linda ran with all her strength through the black woods. Unlike Chet and Al, Bronson, she knew, wouldn't be able to chase her for long. Still the thought that she had been a subject of another attack so soon after that dual rape drove the girl half insane with fear and humiliation.
"God, God, God," she sobbed, stumbling over the uneven ground, her arms out in front to protect her from the hanging branches and jutting bushes. Linda ran for what seemed like hours, darting blindly through the woods. Finally she felt her strength suddenly seep out of her. Sobbing hysterically, the girl collapsed in a defeated heap, her body shaking as a soft breeze blew through the woods from the south.
After several minutes passed, Linda realized she'd have to get home somehow and explain to her mother what happened-at least with Bronson. She could never go back to work there again. Pushing herself up from the ground and straightening her clothing, Linda wiped the tears from her eyes and pushed her long blonde hair back away from her eyes. She noticed only now lights not five hundred feet from where she'd collapsed. Maybe the people there had a phone. She could call Tina and beg her to come and get her.
As she neared the cabin, Linda could hear laughing faintly coming out from behind the closed door. Sucking in a deep breath, Linda straightened her body and stepped from the woods into the small clearing where the rustic cabin sat. A Chevy pick-up stood to the right of the vacation cottage, its red paint brightly illuminated by the light pouring out from a side window.
Linda stepped onto the porch and knocked tentatively on the door, wondering how she looked and wondering what kind of story she'd tell these people.
"Well, look what dropped in."
"Oh my God!" Linda cried, stepping back and covering her mouth with both hands. It was Al!
"So, you couldn't get enough and had to hunt us up for more," Chet shouted drunkenly from inside the cabin. He was leaning heavily against a wooden table that sat in the middle of the room, a beer bottle held loosely in his hand while he wiped flecks of liquor and spittle from his mouth.
"God, oh God, no, NO!" Linda turned and ran wildly down the stairs, her purse falling from her shoulders to the ground. She ran blindly, her hands stretched in front of her. She had to make it back to the woods. Anything, even Bronson, was better than submitting to these animals again.
"Come on, baby," she heard Al's drunken voice behind her. She was almost free when she felt his strong hands grab her hair and jerk back.
"OHHH!" Linda cried in pain. He was pulling hard back on her hair. She stumbled forward a few more steps before the pain became too great. With another great yelp the young blonde fell to her knees.
"Mmmmmm, that's what I want to feel," Al said, wrapping his hands around the bottom of her chin and pressing her head back against his crotch. He was drunk and feeling cruel. Linda felt the breath being choked out of her as his fingers pressed against her windpipe. Gurgling out strangled sounds, the young blonde reached up and tried to claw her way free. But Al held on, moaning with sexual delight while he rubbed the back of her head against his bulging groin.
"Hey, don't take all the fun," Chet cried out from the front of the cabin.
"You're always wantin' a piece of the action without going out and doin' the work to get it," Al grumbled, loosening his grip. It was all Linda needed. She jerked her head back, hitting Al's groin hard.
"AHHHH!" he cried, doubling over and holding his crotch in pain. Linda scrambled to her feet and pitched forward, ignoring the screams as she aimed for the woods. But Chet had already stepped from the porch of the cabin and was even with Al when the sudden move occurred. In seconds Linda was pinned again to the dirt, Chet's body crawling over her back and ass like a filthy slime.
"Ohh, that feels good. Remember that, baby?" Chet moaned hotly in her right ear while he hunched his crotch against her ass. Linda let out another low groan of horror, digging her fingertips into the loose soil. Not again, not again, she thought over and over to herself. Get her over to the shed. I'm gonna teach that bitch a lesson," Al shouted, his face still pinched with pain. He followed Chet and Linda, one hand still cupped over his injured groin. They dragged her to a small shed one hundred yards away from the main cabin. Chet opened the bolted wooden door and pushed Linda roughly in. The girl cried out in fear, stumbling forward in the darkness and banging her knees against something hard. When the overhead bare bulb was switched on, she saw it was an old couch.
"Get down," Al said roughly, reaching out with his free hand and pushing her forward. Linda lost her balance and fell to the floor with a loud crash.
"This is going to be fun," Chet said, grinning foolishly and swaying dangerously back and forth.
"Shut up. Now, little bitch, since you've got so much spunk, I wanna see you beg for cock. Come on, I know you want it. Now beg for it!"
Linda was terrified. She felt ashamed and insulted.
"Never. You won't hear that from me," Linda said defiantly, brushing her hair from her eyes and staring with terror mixed with hatred at Al.
"Wanna bet?" he said just as angrily, reaching down and ripping off her pullover with a quick jerky movement. Linda cried out, crossing her arms quickly over her bra. Al was strong, made stronger by his anger, and knocked away her hands. With another movement the girl felt her bra torn from her back. When she tried to protect her naked titties, Al slapped her hard across the face with the back of his left hand.
The blow knocked the girl to the floor half dazed. Pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, Al knocked one out, lit it and put it between his teeth. Taking a long drag and blowing the smoke into Linda's face, the big man pulled the cigarette out from his mouth and slowly brought the glowing tip to within an inch of the blonde's right nipple.
Linda took a deep breath and held it. She lay very still, not daring to make a move as Al watched her carefully. The heat from the cigarette started to burn her nipple, making it hurt. And yet something deep inside her was happening. She was starting to feel excitement and she knew that was registering in her eyes. Al smiled, then pulled the cigarette away.
"Get the dog," he said to Chet, rocking back on his heels but keeping his eyes fastened on Linda's terrified face.