Chapter 5

"Hey, pop open another of them beers for me, willya, pal," Rufus Bray demanded, then burped and gulped in satisfaction as Toby Turetsky complied. "Yeah, that sure hits the spot. But lemme tell ya, back in Grand Rapids where I come from we didn't mess with this low-power shit-we drank '7-7's'. "

" '7-7's'? "

"Seagrams and 7-Up," Rufus replied, loftily. Rufus was driving, lugubriously elongated form hunched over the steering wheel, bony elbows winged out at ninety-degree angles, beads of perspiration shimmering on his acne-pocked brow. The vintage Studebaker was even older than the Rambler which his female co-worker had driven down this same stretch of road some ten minutes earlier, but it's engine had been souped up so that he could reach over one hundred miles an hour if he pressed the auto to its utmost. This was exactly what he was trying to do now, until his watery blue eyes caught sight of a car parked beneath an oak tree and he squealed to an instant, bone-jolting halt.

"Wh-what's up?" stuttered Toby, twisting his thick neck to gape curiously at his friend. "Whatcha st-stopping for?"

"Lookit-over there. It's Blondie's short!"

"Huh?"

"Y'know, Toby, I betcha you're the dumbest guy in this town full of hicks. Who've we been talking 'bout for the last half hour-Tracey Tits, right. There's her crummy old car."

"Wh-what's it doin' here? Ain't nobody lives here no more."

The heavyset youth was so accustomed to hearing slighting comments on his intellect that he no longer reacted outwardly, wasn't conscious of feeling insulted. Deep in the back of his brain, however, resentment accumulated in an ever-expanding pool of rancid vindictiveness which now and then flooded to the surface and caused him to explode in rages of sadistic violence. Okay, so he'd been called "Tubby" all through grade-school ... so he'd been the only kid in town to flunk second grade twice ... nowadays he wasn't the school fat boy anymore, and he figured he was probably strong enough to take on any guy in this neck of northern Michigan. Rufus, who was built like a limp string bean, wouldn't have a chance against him! But he didn't really mind when Rufus talked mean; it wasn't meant seriously, and besides they were real pals after having spent several months in the pen together.

"What it means is that Tracey Tits is somewhere 'round here." Bray turned off the ignition and peered into the trees. "Nobody lives here, you say? So why don't we find out what she's doing, and have a talk 'bout how we don't dig what's happening on the job."

"There's a b-beach," Toby remembered. "B-betcha she went swimming. And there's a road going down-lots of kids p-park there."

The naked sixteen year-old was still thrashing through the water, working off her frustrations by driving her healthy young body to physical exhaustion, so she didn't hear the car approaching. Since the boys had prudently parked out of sight of the beach, she didn't see them either, and clambered out of the shallows without the least trace of self-consciousness about her unclothed figure. It was after six now, but the setting sun was still warm and the sand was actually hot after the afternoon's sweltering temperatures, so Tracey stretched out on the beach to dry off before getting into her clothes. She felt much calmer now, so relaxed that after staring at the rose-tinted horizon for a minute she closed her eyes and lay back enjoying the sensation of the breeze dancing over her naked and sensitive flesh between her slightly parted thighs.

I've missed a lot of fun by not skinny-dipping before, she was thinking, oblivious to stealthy footsteps behind her. Being naked feels good ... makes me feel more alive, more-

"Who's the girl without her eenie-weenie polka-dot bikini?" a vaguely familiar male voice jolted her from her reverie. "Well, I'll be damned if it ain't Tracey! Lookit that, Toby!"

"I didn't know there was nude beaches 'round here," smirked Toby. "Sure is a nice s-s-surprise, huh!"

Tracey's eyes flew open and she leapt to her feet in alarm, trying to remember exactly where she'd dropped her dress and panties. She was so busy anxiously scanning the beach, arms hugged to her thudding chest in a vain effort to hide the grapefruit-sized mounds of her budding breasts, that it was a second before she saw that Rufus Bray was tauntingly dangling her clothes from one hand. Far more horrifying, he was as naked as she was ... and so was that horrid half-witted Toby.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped. "Oh, no!"

Both boat workers were brandishing their fearfully swollen things, lewdly massaging the glistening purple-red lengths and easing back the foreskins to reveal bulbous brighter red glans ends. Although the innocent teenager was half-blinded with shame and dread, she distractedly noted how different the two flesh stalks were. Toby's was stubby, even shorter than her sixteen year-old steady boyfriend's, whereas Rufus's was as long and thin as his gangly body.

"Blondie looks even better in her birthday suit 'n she does in her bikini, don't she?" Rufus took a step toward her, though he still held her orange cotton shift and white nylon panties just out of reach. "Bet the boss'd dig having her come to work bare-ass like that. Might even pay her a bonus!"

Rufus giggled, a high-pitched, oddly childish snicker which grated along the girl's raw and sensitive nerve endings.

"Think he'd pay us a bonus, too, if we came 'round tc the yard with our peckers dangling? Sure is a fuckin' shame he's not queer, ain't it?! "

There was something evil in the Bray boy's acne-pitted face which chilled the blood in Tracey's veins; the cruel glint in his watery bluish eyes, the sneer twisting his thin mouth, those feverish florid spots on his sunken cheeks. She especially didn't like the way his tongue kept flicking out, snake-like, greedy, to wet his chapped, unusually pale lips. Even Toby, whose beady gray eyes were generally vapid mud puddles reflecting nothing in particular, now wore a satyric, almost sadistic, mask of animal brutality.

Of course the trembling blonde knew what sort of fellow eighteen year-old "Tubby" Turetsky was everyone in Birch Bay was well aware that he wasn't quite normal. Not knowing what else to do with the obese little brat who couldn't seem to manage to learn to read or memorize his multiplication tables, the local school authorities had shrugged and passed him on from grade to grade until, to the relief of all concerned, he'd dropped out of High. He'd been in Tracey Aronson's class; even in these bizarre circumstances, it was a bit difficult to be afraid of someone she still considered the class dummy who'd spent more time standing in the corner or out in the hall than he had at his desk.

Rufus Bray was another matter. All she knew about her unappealing co-worker was that he was nineteen, came from Grand Rapids, a city some hours south of here, and was also a high school dropout. Since the only pages of the newspaper which interested her were the letters to the editor (Mother's donations figured frequently here), the women's section with its recipes and fashion tips, and the next-to-the-last-sheet featuring a crossword puzzle and comics, she'd never read about the two incidents which had landed Bray in jail. Two rapes: one, a Northern Michigan State College coed, the other his thirteen year-old first cousin. Nevertheless, instinct warned her that the lanky red-headed youth could very well be dangerous.

Stop panicking! she ordered herself. They've got as much a right to go skinny-dipping as you do! Just keep cool and everything'll be okay...

"C'mon, Ruf," she strained her lips into a facsimile of a smile, "quit kidding around. Hand over my dress, okay. I-I've got to get home right away, or else-or else Mom'll worry why I'm so late getting off work ... "

"Fuck your mama! You ain't gonna be goin' nowhere for a while, baby doll."

A piercing shriek shattered the sundown serenity of the deserted beach as his outstretched palm whacked against the side of her head. Caught off balance, she toppled facedown into a patch of dune grass too stunned to scream again as the breath was knocked from her lungs. The prickly weeds cut into her naked belly and breasts, but she didn't notice the discomfort any more than she noticed her tangerine-toned sundress fluttering to the ground beside her like a limp flag of surrender.

"Shit!" Rufus's voice was reverent with awe for his friend's brutality. "You sh-showed her, all right!" . "Yeah, you bet your life I showed her! Get a good look at her ass, willya!"

"Jeez! It's as good as her b-boobs!"

This can't be real! Tracey's mind wheeled wildly as the clouds of confusion started clearing from her head. It's some crazy nightmare! It has to be! But she knew perfectly well that it was true; her mouth was full of gritty sand and a razor-sharp blade of dune grass was pressed right up against her tender bare breasts.

"Ya know what I'm thinking, Toby?" the tall red-haired rapist drawled. "I think it was real lucky we showed up here to find Blondie all ready for a party. Now we can have us some fun and let her know it ain't fair for the big boss to be the only one getting any action."

"Don't you dare touch me again! A party! You're out of your minds! I'm getting out of here this minute, and if you hit me again I'm gonna tell. You couldn't pay me a million dollars to have a 'party' with ugly creeps like you guys!"

"Think you're too good for us, eh? Hell, baby, you're coming to our little private party, and you're gonna dig it, too!"

Terror thrummed through Tracey's veins like liquid lightning, and she struggled to her knees, spitting out sand and clutching clumps of weeds for support. Sneering, Rufus Bray allowed her to scramble to her feet before lunging forward to imprison her naked figure in a lecherous arm-lock.

"Goin' somewheres, little girl? Party hasn't begun yet."

Stinging tears half-blinded her as she tried to jerk out of his grasp-oh, God, his terrible bulge was actually touching her bare belly!-but her clumsily pummeling fists and inept attempts to kick him were to no avail. Although he was skinny as a concentration camp escapee, years of gang warfare and his stint in the State Penitentiary had hardened his lean muscles and improved his technique. Besides, he was experienced at this sort of thing ... and also had a more than willing assistant standing at his side.

"Grab her from behind, Ruf!" he panted. "Keep her legs down. The little bitch's goin' after my balls, I think."

Precisely the teenager's intention. A few months ago she'd helped Mom type a Female and Free article on the subject of rape, and one section had stuck in her memory.

"A male's Achilles heel is, ironically, that part of his anatomy of which he is proudest: his genitals. Criticize his penis and destroy his ego. And a well-aimed kick at his testicles should disable him long enough to give any physically-fit Sister a chance to flee to safety."

All this had sounded simple enough when she'd read it, but now that she was shamefully squashed between the grinding pelvises of two sex maniacs, with her muscles weary from her vigorous swim and head groggy after her fall, she was struck by her total helplessness. As one pulsing phallus pressed between her shuddering buttocks and the other mashed against her churning young belly, she tried desperately to recall what else Mom's magazine story had said about self-defense. Something about tear gas pistols, about carrying a sharp pair of household shears in your handbag at all times ... helpful hints, no doubt, but of little use under the circumstances. And now, horror of horrors, pimple-faced Rufus was pinching her tender breasts in his grubby hands, digging into the pale brown aureoles and rosy nipples with his filthy, unfilled fingernails.

Ungovernable angry repulsion raced through her bloodstream, speeding adrenalin out to every inch of her body. Suddenly she shoved her hands between Rufus and herself, pushing his bony chest away with all her might while she simultaneously tried to squirm away from Toby. Teeth gnashing, fists flailing, she actually managed to fight free of her two fellow deckhands before a brutal blow from red-haired Bray send her sprawling back down on the sand. She was beaten and she knew it, but still she continued wriggling wildly, a frantic animal snagged in a trap, and wailing out protests.

"No, no. You can't do it! Get away from me, you dirty pigs!"

"What's your problem, anyhow? Ain't we good enough for ya? Ya only like screwing old men like the boss?"

By now Tracey was sobbing, tears rolling over her burning cheeks to puddle onto the soft sand. She wrenched her neck around to gape at Rufus, who was again massaging his bloated male weapon and whose eyes burned with sadistic fires which told her instinctively that he actually wanted her to struggle so he'd have a chance to beat her up. Accordingly, she collapsed in a passive heap of pain, screwing her eyes tight shut to try to blow out the image of his horrifying penis.

"I n-n-never did anything wrong with Mr. Comfort," she whimpered miserably. "Please! I don't know why you're doing this to me, but please let me go! Please, please!"

"Why're you doing this to me?" Rufus mimicked in a high-pitched falsetto. " 'Cause you're a cock-teasing bitch with a hot cunt that needs a little stud action, that's why. So there's no reason for carrying on-that itchy twat of your's is gonna get what it wants. Me and my buddy, we got the equipment-as ya can see!"

The innocent adolescent shuddered as he tugged on his turgid thickness again, for the thing seemed to grow more enormous with each passing moment. Fear surged through her so strenuously that she could actually taste it, a nd her tongue was a leaden weight as she whimpered: "You're crazy! You can't! I'll-I'll tell the cops, and you'll be sent to jail! I will!

"Will ya, now?" Rufus took a couple menacing steps toward her pinioned body. "And are ya gonna mention you was trespassion and swimming nude? Asking for it? Ya gonna tell them how much you loved getting fucked by two big cocks at the same time?"

"WHAT?! "

"That's what I said, two cocks. You deaf or something? Ya never did it with two guys before-hell, honey, you're gonna go crazy. Ain't no bitch in the whole fucking world who doesn't!"

"We really gonna f-f-fuck her, Rufus?"

"You bet your life we are. Just wait'll you see Tracey Tit's tail twitching when we're both banging her. I'm gonna letcha ram it up her cunt, man, 'cause I wanna try out her cute little ass-hole."

"W-wow! Outtasight!"

They really were insane! How could any woman alive stand to have even one of these repulsive creatures touch her, much less ENJOY it? And what in God's name did he mean by at the same time? She'd never heard of such a disgusting thing. One thing she did know, however: she had to get away from these monsters at once!

This was Tracey Aronson's last coherent thought before the Bray boy's ruthless middle finger stabbed through her tiny anal orifice to plunge agonizing inches into her tight rectal passage. She screamed at the top of her lungs, then bit her tongue in panic-stricken alarm as her outcry elicited another stinging blow on her impaled ass-cheeks. Blackness swam before her eyes form the pain in her backside and on her sadistically scraped ankles, and even as frantic pleas gurgled from her fear-parched lips she was praying that she'd pass out.

"Stop! Stop it, you-you animals!" she wailed, beating her balled up fists into the sand in helpless protest. "Get your filthy paws off me! I'm a virgin! A VIRGIN! Don't you dare touch me, you pigs!"

Toby Turetsky made a croaking sound, then giggled moronically. "Didja hear that, Ruf? She says she's a v-v-virgin! Am I really gonna crack a ch-cherry? Am I ? "

"She's fulla shit! No chick with a bod like hers could be a goddamn virgin."

As he spole, the nineteen year-old ex-convict yanked his finger out of his terrified victim's tight anus, his heinous howl of mirth masking the lewd popping noise. Then, still chuckling, he rubbed the finger over the smooth pinkness of her vaginal slit.

"All dripping wet and ready for us!" proclaimed Rufus. "C'mon, Toby, let's turn her over and see her boobs better."

Now brutal male hands were gripping her shoulders as well as her feet, and the smell of stale beer and cigarettes suffused her nostrils until she wanted to gag. So they were drunk-that made the possibility of reasoning with them even more remote. No longer caring whether or not the boys beat her up, she commenced a new round of ineffective struggles, sobbing and screaming simultaneously in a shrill, inhuman song of despair which reverberated back from the surrounding dunes in an eerie way.

The worst of it all was that, loathe though she was to admit it even to herself, her virginal vagina was indeed seeped with shameful secretions. Of course, there could be no connection between desire for these loutish perverts and the damning droplets which were dampening the petals of her pussy. It was simply some sort of chemical reaction of fear, or perhaps an inopportune effect of the dune grass tickling her unprotected genitals. She pressed her legs as tightly together as she could, assuming she could will away the unwanted wetness.

"I AM a virgin! I am, I am!" she shrieked, fighting with every fiber of her healthy young body not only to hold her upper legs together, but to prevent them from turning her over. "Get away from me! GET AWAY! Nnnoooooo!"

Deaf to her frantic cries, the two beer and lust deranged boat workers effortlessly slipped the slim sixteen year-old flat on her back. Particles of sand cut into the raw bruises which Bray's spanking had left on her backside, but she scarcely was aware of the pain. In fact, the only things which had any significance for her at this nightmarish moment were the two blood-bloated rods looming above her helpless body, with their pulsing purple veins and menacingly swaying testicles and an ominous pearl of pre-cum secretion glistening on each narrow glans slit.

"Looks like I've knocked the fight outta the smart ass slut, huh, Toby!" gloated Rufus, then turned to stare hungrily at the whimpering teenager. "Well, how about getting on with our party. You like the look of our peckers? You getting all hot and horny already?"

"I s-s-sure am horny-I'm gonna go crazy if I d-don't get my prick inside her real soon. How're we gonna work this, Ruf? We really gonna both screw her at once? How?"

"What! You never sandwiched a bitch before?" Actually, despite his tone of scoffing superiority, the lanky red-haired youth was as inexperienced as his friend, but he'd read plenty of graphic literature on the subject. "Jeez, man, you guys around here don't know how to have fun with a broad like we do down in Grand Rapids."

Usually Toby was a willing listener to his coworker's tales about his hometown, but today his slow brain was pre-occupied with impatient passion. "Yeah, but whadda we do? Should we leave her on her back, or turn her round, or what?"

It was a good question, Rufus frowned, thinking back over the paperbacks he'd read as best he could considering the clouds of lust and alcohol and sadistic glee clogging his brain cells. As far as he could recall, the authors hadn't mentioned such mundane practicalities as position: rather, there were just two fellows crazily ramming their huge cocks into some sexy broad who kept begging for more, more, more.

"Hold your horses, man," he replied. "I wanna get Blondie's motor humming first, so's she's screaming for cock. That way, she'll know better 'n to treat us like dirt anymore. And what happened to that six-pack? Gimme another can, okay."

The instant a long-faced Toby released her to grope among clumps of dune grass and discarded articles of attire, both the blonde's shapely legs shot upward in the general direction of Rufus' heavy, baseball-sized testicles. By now the sun had drifted beneath the skyline and the sand hills were casting long purple-blue shadows across the beach; even if the lanky ex-convict hadn't chosen this exact second to lunge down toward her breasts, she'd probably have missed the aimed-for genitals. As it was, her abruptly up-kicking heel caught him square on the chin, and with a hoarse yelp of shock he tumbled backward onto the sand beside her.

"Goddamn slut!" raged Rufus, angrily swabbing at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth with the first thing that came to hand-Tracey's little lace panties. "I warned you, you bitch. Okay, you wanna play it the hard way, I got no objections!"

Tracey shrunk back down against the suddenly-cool sand, heart thudding in her chest as she realized she'd misjudged the malicious hatred this virtual stranger somehow held against her. This was no adolescent mating game, like the night she and Robbie Runions had cuddled out on the rocks; this was real and earnest and very ugly. It wasn't the Little League anymore-it was a Major League combat with dangerously high stakes. Deep fear gripped her, nauseated her, as she gaped up at the demonic eyes and twisted snarl of her enemy.

"Wow! Sh-shit!" stuttered Toby, and dropped the six-pack.

Neither the girl nor the Grand Rapids' hoodlum paid him a moment's attention. Grinning in mirthless, vindictive glee, the nineteen year old sadist slammed the heel of his tennis shoe between her rigidly clenched thighs, prying them apart. Then, laughing aloud when she winced and moaned in pain, he planted both feet between her upper legs and slowly, torturously spread them apart until her legs were spread-eagled. Looking down, he saw her glistening pink pussy lips pulling open like the petals of a flower.

"Oh, God, stop it! You're hurting me! Please stop!" He was going to split her right in two! "Pleeezzze!"

"I'm hurting you? Sure is too fucking bad, girlie."

Rufus Bray's beady eyes squinted into malevolent slits as he inspected the exposed curl-fringed pussy slit. In a way, he longed to drop to his knees and lunge his aching stiffness deep down inside the enticing hole without another minute's delay. There were, of course, several very good reasons for not doing so: intuition told him she hadn't been putting them on about being a virgin, and appropriating under-age pussy was what had landed him behind bars the last time ... and his probation officer was one mean son-of-a-bitch. However, he was only momentarily stopped by the recollection of the risks. There was another, far more compelling explanation for his hesitance.

Before he was finished with this conceited cunt, he vowed, he'd reduce her to a helpless puddle of pleading female flesh, for the ultimate triumph would be seeing her grovel in carnal craving beneath proudly punishing prick. Bray gulped down half the can of Budweiser to wet his excitement-parched throat while he considered which way of forcing the girl to beg would bring him the most satisfaction.

Whipping a bitch was always fun, he thought, glancing toward the spot several yards away where he'd dropped his wide leather belt-that's how he'd dealt with the plump coed he'd picked up hitching a ride back to her college dorm. Women were always instantly anxious to satisfy his every lewd desire when he held his switchblade against their necks or nipples or pussy mounds, too, but unfortunately his weapons had all been confiscated when he was arrested and he'd not yet been able to afford replacements. Anyway, all these sadistic diversions took time, and his balls were already churning with a white-hot urgency he didn't dare to ignore.

He finished off the beer and tossed it to the ground; it landed on top of the blood-stained panties he'd used to wipe his cut lip, and for some reason the sight brought a rush of inspiration. The sandwiching plan had been fantastic-the only reason he was abandoning it was, of course, that it was too much trouble to explain to Toby what he must do. Instead, they'd sandwich her another way-with their mouths-and with her snotty little mouth, too.

"Get over here, you ass-hole," he barked to his companion, who was still standing several feet away in open-mouthed astonishment, hand unconsciously pulsing up and down on his stubby flesh stalk. "How come you're beating your meat when we've got Tracey Tits to take care of us, you dope?"

"Please!" the girl was too terrified to sound defiant anymore. "I-I'm sorry I kicked you. Please don't do anything bad!"

"Sorry, are ya? Kinda late for that. But don't worry," he chuckled in an ugly way, "we ain't gonna do nothing bad. Just you wait and see how good your teasing little twat's gonna feel. But I'm telling you now, any more funny business and I'm gonna give like I got. Only I'm gonna kick in every one of your little white teeth, and cut up that face so's you won't be pretty enough for any guy to wanna fuck again. That clear? You just lie back and enjoy it!"

Tracey was sobbing so hysterically that she couldn't have answered even if she'd known what to say. She didn't doubt that the hot-tempered thug would carry out his gruesome threat ... but on the other hand it was unthinkable to relinquish her precious purity without protest. How would she ever face herself or anyone decent again if she did that?

Bray sniggered at the misery mirrored on the girl's tear-splotched face. "First thing I wanna see you do is get down on your hands and knees, like the she-bitch you are. And keep that fine ass of yours up high!"

She gaped at him in horror-stricken disbelief, but to her own surprise found herself slowly sinking to a kneeling position. She was too slow for impatient Bray, who grasped her hips and flipped her down onto the sand with her round white ass-cheeks quivering toward the darkening sky. Then, after a couple rough slaps on her openly up-thrust buttocks, he dropped to the ground beside her, crouching so close to her that his swollen member dangled mere inches from her dread-dizzied eyes and her nostrils puckered at the pungent, unwashed odor of his crotch. Automatically, she tensed her thighs together-but too late.

"Get in gear, Toby!" ordered Rufus. "C'mon, get your fat head down there and tongue her to death. Drive her out of her dirty little mind, okay, man!"

"But, b-but-" His voice was muffled as he obediently dropped to his haunches, gripped the girl's satin-skinned hips to keep her from moving, and wormed a clumsy finger into the coral-pink cleft of her pulsating cunt. "B-but-"

"But what? Hell, don't you know how to eat pussy, either?"

"S-sure, I do. Done it with a wh-whore in M-Muskegon last summer. B-but-"

"So then, start licking this here whore!"

"But I thought you said we was gonna f-fuck her! Crap, my pecker's gonna blow up any minute if I don't-"

"So jerk off or something," interrupted Rufus with an unfeeling shrug. After she sucks me off, she'll go down on you, okay. And then we'll screw her. Shit, this is sure going to be one long, wild party!"

"No! Noooo-

The schoolgirl's shrill shriek abruptly snapped off into a gagging, inhuman gurgle of disgust as gusts of scorching breath grazed against the sensitive surface of her unprotected pussy and a stubby, calloused fingertip scraped along her cringing crevice. There were scruffy tufts of hair tickling her inner thighs, and a clammy palm clamped on the side of her buttocks whose ragged-nailed fingers cut into her flesh when she attempted to squirm away from this ultimate obscenity. Of course, she still kept trying to wiggle away, to rise to her feet and run as fast as she could down the beach and up the steep dune to her car. Even if they caught her and beat her to a bloody pulp, it was better than enduring this outrage.

"Hold still, girlie, or you're gonna be good and sorry."

Hold still, when "Tubby" Turetsky, the class dunce, had his filthy, slobbering mouth this close to her most intimate female flesh? Impossible! Tracey shoved her thighs together as hard as she could-and, despite her frail, very feminine appearance, she was quite a strong young woman-but this only succeeded in trapping Toby's head deeper inside her quivering inner thighs ... and in rousing rage in the other man lurking near her head.

"Nooo! Stop it-oouuggg-"

This was too much! Turetsky's slimy tongue had touched her private genitals! Tracey raised her hands from the now-cool sand, vaguely intending to scratch out Rufus' eyes and then attack Toby in some similar fashion, but before she could put this foolhardy plan into effect the tall Grand Rapids ex-con had launched his own assault.

"Fucking bitch! I toldja to behave!"

Hot, sweat-sticky hands crushed as though the man thought he was kneading bread, forcing her little nipple buds into taut round bullets of unwanted sensation. She screamed again, acute alarm and infuriated resentment raging in equal proportions through her bloodstream, scarcely aware than one of his gaunt hands had left her tortured breasts to rummage in the pocket of his dirty unbuttoned blue work shirt. Only when his cheap lighter flickered in the gray-purple dusk and the glowing end of a Marlboro inched toward her did she belatedly recall for the second time this evening that this Bray character was a lot more dangerous than she'd first imagined.

"You gonna sit still and shut up, or am I gonna have to burn a few holes in that pretty face of yours?"

"Aaahhhh!"

The cigarette butt grazed the delicate skin of her swan-like white neck, filling the fresh, faintly fishy night air with the acrid odor of singed human flesh although it only ground once against the sensitive sinews, a stubbing-out-in-the-ashtray motion. Searing pain shot from the top of Tracey's tousled blonde scalp to the tips of her ten involuntarily curling toes, but by now she was too terrorized to dare to vocalize her acute agony. Rufus Bray laughed, lunging forward.

"liked that, cutiepie? Now you've got yourself a pretty little scar to remember this night. And now you're gonna be a good girl, ain'tcha?"

The young blonde shuddered, her face transforming into contorted mask of unwilling compliance as her muscles froze in fear. It was obvious now that there was no hope of defending herself against these drunk, demon-possessed morons-to try would be suicidal. No, all she could do was pray their obscene appetites would be swiftly satisfied, that she could somehow escape with her virginity intact. Horrible as this bestial oral attack might be, it was preferable to losing her treasured maidenhead to a couple of despicable dock workers.

I'll close my eyes and pretend it's not happening, she vowed silently. I won't let myself even feel the dreadful things they're doing. Maybe I can't keep them from pawing at me with their filthy hands and slimy mouths, but I can keep them from touching my mind!

It was a brave, sincere resolution, but one far more easily made than carried out. Within seconds, as Toby's tongue delved into the secret depths of her precious virgin vagina, she was shuddering in repugnance and realizing that no amount of willpower could numb her nerves. Tracey gritted her teeth to keep from screaming at the strange sensations between her legs and the stinging arrows shooting out from her mauled breasts, nearly fainting from the vain effort of training her traitorous body into a stone statue.

"Good eating pussy, huh, Toby? Look, she's already starting to twitch her tail! Thought she'd be a hot number once she got going-she's got one of 'em sassy asses that always mean a gal's good in the sack."

The teenager's clenched lids flew wide apart at this atrocious insult. After one horrified glance at Rufus Bray's lust-slackened features and ferociously fondled cock, she'd begun to shut her eyes tight again when she just happened to glance down and her eyes widened in fascinated revulsion instead. Peering through her bouncing breasts, she had a clear view of her wantonly spread thighs and the strawberry-colored tongue sluicing right into her curl-framed cuntal channel. It was the most disgusting thing she'd ever seen ... and yet, in a forbidden corner of her brain, she recognized that the warm ripples stirring in her veins were born of vulgar, unwanted erotic intoxication. Suddenly, fleetingly, she thought of the time out on the rocks when she'd gotten so inexplicably aroused watching Mimi Sweeney and her lover.

At last, after much frantic fumbling along the schoolgirl's fresh-tasting furrow and puffy pussy lips, the retarded Turetsky boy located the round button of her clitoris. That whore in Muskegon-a kindly sort, if a bit past her prime-had informed him that this tiny miniature penis was the most important part of a girl's body and that he should suck, nibble, kiss and so on until it stiffened into a female version of his hard-on. Fate hadn't afforded him an opportunity to perfect his technique until now, so he was surprised and delightedly proud when the blonde's body responded at once to his tongue.

"W-w-wow!" Toby grabbed for his savagely swollen stiffness and began massaging the fleshy stalk furiously. "Sh-shit!"

To her intense shame, Tracey noticed that she was indeed wiggling her buttocks in involuntary response to the lewd oral titillation. Now that he was circling her throbbing clitoris in maddening, ever-increasing enthusiasm, however, she was gradually losing control of herself. It felt wonderful, no matter how sordid and wicked it was. . .far better than her own guilty fumblings beneath her nightie, or than Robbie Runions' timid finger-thrubbing on their last night together.

"Go, man, go! You're doing great!" leered Rufus. "Ram your tongue right down to her belly! And stick your finger up her ass, too. Show her the works!"

In order to better appreciate this prurient hors-d'oeuvre preceding his own carnal gratification, Rufus Bray had popped open another Budweiser and was absently toying with his foreskin. His eyes squinted into narrower than usual slits of. reptilian venom as he scrutinized the slavishly kneeling schoolgirl; no doubt about it, she was getting hot-her glassy eyes were glued to her tongue-tormented vagina, her lithe body shivered sporadically, a film of perspiration bathed her flushed, twisted face. It was only a matter of minutes now before she was aroused enough to suck his own impatient erection with masochistic pleasure! "Ooohhh!"

Rufus burped, then grinned in lascivious pleasure, as the girl cried out from the unexpected pain of a finger ramming into her previously untouched little anal orifice. Hell, this imagine-pants bitch was going to discover she wasn't one bit better than a five-dollar-a-buck-fuck down in Chicago's Black Belt. She was just the sort of bitch he detested-like those prick-teasers he'd gone to school with before he wised up and dropped out, snide, perfumed snobs who'd scorned him because he had a couple of pimples, a bad address, and a mother who did their mothers' washing.

"Fucking sluts!" he muttered, animal lust burning like a live coal inside him.

At least he wasn't a numbskull like his pal, Toby, who just went without cunt, or paid for it, because he'd never figured out that nine women out of ten really wanted to be ravished in the most vile, vulgar manner possible. He was only twenty, but he'd discovered this invaluable item of information back in 1970 when, while still a rebellious Grand Rapids' high school student, he'd raped a certain Glenda Grimes, president of the Future Homemakers of America Club and a notoriously determined prude despite her Playboy centerfold type figure. She'd screamed and writhed and finally pleaded for more, and after that night in the forest preserve he'd been hooked on rape like some people were on booze or dope or gambling.

Glenda Grimes hadn't breathed a word about her shameful surrender to sexuality, and neither had nine of the other twelve tight-ass broads he'd transformed into shivering masses of mindless feminine flesh. Two out of twelve had blabbed to the cops, a pretty decent ratio all things considered. Rufus figured this innocent little piece kneeling slave-like on the sand before him wouldn't dare tell a soul, and even if he'd expected she might, he was far too aroused to stop now.

The young victim, unaware of her attacker's lurid thoughts, was still concentrating all her energy on trying to submerge the tide of sexual excitation rising in her healthy adolescent loins. It was a hopeless cause. With each passing second, her pussy lips throbbed and swelled more pleasurably around his deep-thrusting tongue, and as he pushed further into her seeping passage, his nose teased at her aroused clitoris. Tears of despair welled in her big brown eyes when she felt tingling goose bumps rippling across her quivering belly and jouncing breasts.

I can't be liking this! her tortured mind screamed. Hadn't the article she'd typed for Mother claimed that the common saying that all women secretly longed to be raped was nothing but a male chauvinistic myth? Tears trickled over her cheeks as she realized she must be just as sick and disgusting as these two unwashed boat workers ... maybe even more perverted, because she knew better but was allowing her body to respond anyway.

"Nooo ... please, no more! Nooo..."

Her whimpers rang weak and unconvincing in her own ears, despite the fact that Toby had just commenced a new outrageously debasing torture. A few minutes earlier, his merciless middle digit had pierced the resisting ring of her anus and an electric jolt of agony had exploded inside her; now, as she shuddered in shame, his cruel fingers had pried apart her fear-clenched ass-cheeks and his hot, wet tongue was licking a lewd path along her crevice. After a second, as she'd feared, the outthrust oral member was teasing the puckering circle of her rectal mouth. Her taut rosebud opening spasmed, tried to shrink itself inward to escape this new lewdly exciting sensation, but Toby and Rufus only laughed, and the tongue speared right through the elasticized entrance.

"Oh, God! Oh, please, noooo!"

Once, twice, three times the tormenting tongue dug into her forbidden rectal recesses. Then it snaked back along the damp crack between her nether cheeks to resume its maddening manipulation of her crazily churning vagina, and although she kept swearing to herself that she'd never fall prey to her sinfully prurient desire, she knew his flicking tongue was speeding her to the point of no return. Soon, unless he stopped his lappings and lickings, she'd be approaching the wickedly exquisite state where nothing mattered except total sensual satisfaction.

"My God, I can't help it. I can't stop myself!"

Tracey certainly hadn't intended to utter the damning words aloud-they'd just spilled from her lips of their own accord. When she heard the voice echoing through the darkness, she was so horrified that she bit her lips hard enough to draw salty droplets of blood.

Well, well, guess you're hot enough now, aintcha?" leered Rufus Bray. "Tell us how much you like having your cunt eaten, kid ... and remember what happened last time you didn't cooperate."

I have to do what they tell me, the tormented teen rationalized wildly. Otherwise who knows what they'll do. It's okay if I say it, so long as I don't mean it.

But the shrill cries which rang out over the still black water weren't stilted, sham pretenses ... they were genuinely passionate, and with each obscenity she uttered, the more the evidence of her own sordid carnality turned her on.

"Ohhh, yeah! It's good! I love it ... love your tongue in my pussy. K-keep doing it! Fuck me with your tongue!"

"That's a good girl! And sure, Toby'll keep tonguing your hot little twat till you cum ... so long's you do just what I want."

Before the masochistically maddened adolescent had a chance to consider what this new threat portended, rough hands had clutched her flushed face and two thin thumbs were prying open her blood-flecked lips. "Suck me, bitch! And suck me good, or you'll be damn sorry! I wanna see ya swallow every bit of my jism, hear?! "

Her half-daze of deliciously wicked bliss was shattered by this barbaric command. She gasped in stunned revulsion as Rufus eased back his foreskin so that the bloated head of his long penis pulsed mere inches from her forced-open mouth, unwilling to obey him even though she knew full well how furious he'd be if she didn't. It had been one thing to plant a gingerly kiss on her boyfriend's penis, but the idea of letting her mouth be defiled by this monster's sticky sperm sickened her.

"No, pleeezzzzeeee-" she started to whimper, her voice a grotesque gurgle because of the thick digits forcing her jaws wide open. "I can't ... "

"Sure ya can-ya better!"

Additional protest was effectively cut off as the hot, spongy-textured tip of his lust-throbbing member crushed against her teeth. The innocent virgin's eyes widened as she gazed in dismay down the impossible length of the gleaming angry-red rod, and a shudder wracked her subjugated figure at the piquancy of male pre-cum fluid which seeped from it's glans tip onto her taste buds.

"C'mon," the ex-convict gloated. "Sink your mouth all the way down 'round my pecker and suck till you drain my balls dry!"

A muffled moan burst from her violated lips as the mushroom-shaped head crashed forward into the moist softness of her cringing mouth. For a moment she thought she'd gag from the feel of his dribbling from its narrow slit opening down to the base of her tongue, but as his hands tightened viciously in her tangled golden curls she realized dizzily that she had somehow to discover the easiest way to endure this humiliating torture. Breathing through her nose helped, as did making swallowing motions which flexed the walls of her cheeks around the impaling cock shaft.

"Suck harder, you prick-teasing tramp. Do it good like Toby's doin' it to you, or I'll break your fucking neck!"

Toby! She'd almost forgotten the sinfully salacious pleasure his tongue had been bringing her, but now she once again felt a delicious shiver of depraved delight thrumming from her orally-abused pussy to every nerve ending in her naked body. Her buttocks involuntarily contracted, spasmed, and her lips simultaneously started nibbling on the thick flesh rod crammed inside her cheeks. Oh, God! This dual subjugation was vile, perverted-but unbearably thrilling!

Unexpected masochistic tendencies were being roused in the naive schoolgirl by the two rapists; she didn't understand what was happening to her, but she couldn't fight it she knew. They'd driven her to the depths of depravity, and she no longer had the will to try to drag herself out of the sordid swamp of lust. Groaning greedily, she wriggled her ass and sucked Rufus' pistoning penis so deeply into her throat that she could feel his sparse-haired testicles bouncing against her saliva-streaked chin and cheeks. She was acting like a debauched slut, a bitch-just as they kept calling her-and she relished it more than anything she'd ever experienced in her short, sheltered sixteen years.

"Ohhh, crap! She's a natural-born cocksucker!" Rufus Bray's lust-coarsened voice rang out across the dunes. "Shit, blondeie, you doin' great!"

Down between Tracey Aronson's wantonly wriggling buttocks, dim-witted Toby continued slathering his tongue from clitoris to anus, all the while pumping his right hand up and down on his purple-veined flesh pole like a man possessed. By now the teenager was so aroused that the salacious sight of a man masturbating as he licked her pussy, plus the almost painful scratching of his unshaven cheeks on her tender inner thighs and the licentious wet slurping sounds, quickly drove her to the precipice of orgasm. She needed no more urging to stimulate the massive male organ which had invaded her mouth; eagerly, greedily she experimented to discover what movements made the steel-hard stalk pulse most excitedly, made the cock's owner groan most deliriously, made the vein on its underside vibrate most vigorously. .

"Ya love it, don'tcha, baby doll?" Rufus Bray's triumphant voice hissed above her madly bobbing head. "Don't think you're too good for me now that you've had a taste of my love juice, do ya! Reckon you know you're just a broad with her brain between her legs, just like all the other cunts in the world. C'mon, play with my balls-an' stick your dirty little finger up my ass like Toby did to you."

Tracey complied willingly, She knew that she was acting like a tramp, but something inside her ha snapped so that she no longer cared. In fact, her slutishness filled her with a weird sense of exhilaration of wild abandonment. He was right-she wasn't on bit different from, say, the infamous Mimi Sweene however, she was luckier and, she hoped, more clever, so her shameful sensuality would remain a closely guarded secret. These two greasy drop-outs had forced her into this and therefore wouldn't dare tell, which meant that she'd be able to walk down the halls at Birch Bay High with her head high and without the guys saying smutty things about her as she passed.

"Ohhh, shit!" Bray moaned. "I'm gonna cum any minute, the way she's blowing me. Christ Almighty!"

Waves of onrushing climax welled in the young blonde's sweat-lathered loins and she ground her buttocks against Toby's mouth in avid invitation while teasing her finger into Rufus' puckered anal opening again and uninhibitedly fondling his velvety balls. Since there was no risk of besmirching her Reputation with these crude workmen, why shouldn't she let herself go and try all the wicked things she'd dreamed about? Why the hell shouldn't she just go wild?!

"Gimme your hot cum!" her own voice spluttered, shocking her, exciting her. "I wanna eat it up, you bastard!"

Beneath her fingers his balls tightened, the gigantic phallus between her sluttishly straining cheeks seemed to grow longer than ever, and the tube on its underside shivered against her tingling tongue. Tracey shuddered in wicked delight as the first depraved droplets splashed down into her cock-stuffed mouth, but even as she strained every muscle in her lusting loins for her own orgasm, Toby's tongue and lips suddenly abandoned her craving cuntal crevice.

"Ouugghhh!" he wailed. "M-me too! C-can't wait! CCUUMMMMMIINNGGG!"

"Don't stop yet!" Tracey tried to scream back to him, but seething sperm was gushing down her throat so the only sound she could make was a gagging mewl. And then heated jets of sticky semen were spattering against her wantonly kneeling body, dribbling over her suddenly frozen buttocks and thighs and even onto the dangling pears of her bruised breasts. Each additional spurt acted like a fire extinguisher on the flames of her passion until, by the time he collapsed panting on the sand, she wasn't even feeling frustrated-just sick and sad and soiled.

For a torturous eternity after the boy behind her had spent his passion, Rufus continued spilling his sticky male seed down her gagging throat. Her enthusiasm for swallowing his sperm had evaporated along with her orgasm, but when she attempted to tug her mouth away from his endlessly spurting hose, vicious fingers tangled in her flaxen hair and held her face tight against his groin. Choking and coughing, semen spilling over her contorted cheeks and matting her hair, she endured his ejaculation to the last bitter drop when he finally sank to the ground beside his bud-dy.

Tracey, too, fell forward onto her belly, spitting out sperm, but she remained immobile for only the briefest second. Without even wasting the time to collect her scattered clothing, she set off at a stumbling run toward the stairs leading up to the highway. The sated youths, who hadn't enjoyed such thrilling sexuality in far longer than they'd ever have admitted, hardly noticed her flight until she had already disappeared into the darkness. Even when they realized their virginal victim had vanished before they'd had a chance to fuck her, it took them awhile to lumber to their feet, and as they were unfamiliar with this beach they didn't know where the stairs were and presumed she'd run up the driveway.

By the time they'd reached the highway, there were a few fresh dents in the fenders. And Tracey's Rambler was gone...

"Oh, hi there, dear."

Mrs. Aronson glanced up from her battered old-model IBM long enough to notice that her daughter was wearing a bathing suit and looked very tired. Then her glance roved toward the kitchen clock, which read 9:30 p.m., and back to the typewriter. If she were going to meet her deadline on "Sex Prejudices and Male Employers", she'd have to work another two or three hours tonight. She sighed.

"Home late, aren't you?" she remarked vaguely, her mind mostly on due-dates and unpaid bills from the IBM repairman and the plumber and the telephone company. "Hard day?"

"Sort of," Tracey sighed, hoping she'd disguised the bitterness and shame from her voice. "And then I-I went for a swim."

"That was nice, darling," Denise inserted a fresh sheet of paper and frowned intently at the illegible scribbles on her yellow legal pad of notes. "By the way, that Clarice Pringle girl rang twice to say she was babysitting tonight so she couldn't get together with you."

"Oh." The teenager sidled toward the door. "I'm pretty worn out, anyhow."

"There's some tuna salad in the icebox..." Denise said, distantly.

The thought of food made Tracey want to vomit, for the taste of sperm was still strong and pungent in her violated mouth.

"I-I think I'll go straight to bed," she gulped, and hurried upstairs to the bathroom.

For almost one hour she scrubbed and soaped her sullied figure, but she still felt filthy when she finally dragged herself to her bed. No amount of cleansings, no perfumes nor purgatives, could ever make her feel clean again, she thought as she lay down for a night of bad dreams and insomnia.