Chapter 7
Rape And The School Teacher
Any particular problems that thirty-two year old Wanda Morgan had with her tenth grade English students usually concerned the rebellious boys in her class. Like every other teacher on the face of the earth Wanda had her share of problem students. Recently, however, some of them seemed to be getting out of hand.
Wanda observed that most of the students in her class were attentive. Except for a select few who tried to disrupt what order already existed in her class. Wanda did not like sending her arrogant male students to the principal. She most often attempted to discipline them herself.
Wanda discovered that most of the boys liked her. Even if they did not pay particular attention to the long lectures on English history and literature. Perhaps it was because she was a young and attractive curly-headed blonde with vivacious blue eyes. Perhaps it was because she tried very hard to give each and every student a fair shake. Whatever the reason, Wanda realized she had very few real problem students. Those she considered as such — she did not know how to handle.
On the evening of March 11, 1969 Wanda stayed after class in order to correct some test papers. Although Wanda was married and very much in love with her husband, Brian Morgan, a laboratory technician at a local hospital, Wanda discovered long ago that she got very little work done once she went home.
Mostly it was because of the two teen-aged girls across in apartment 3-C. Kathy and Yevonne Arland both had considerable difficulties. Both were below average students. Neither of the girls received any guidance or discipline.
Lately Kathy and Yevonne had been coming to Wanda for help with their homework. Most often Wanda found herself doing most of their school work. That was one of the reasons that motivated Wanda to remain after school late correcting papers.
Also, Wanda noted, she had been recalling how angry she had gotten with Barry and Chris Lockwood, Kevin Blankenship and Lucas Monohan. All were students in her mid-morning composition class. The one thing the four surly youths had in common was their unkempt long hair and their flagrantly disobedient attitude. All four youths dressed shabbily, deliberately tracking their feet over any papers that fell from the bulletin board. All four of the youths took obvious delight in disrupting class.
In exasperation, Wanda had ordered the youths to keep quiet and pay attention. She had made crude fun of their long haired fashions. Perhaps, she admitted, she had gone too fair. But then she had been rudely provoked.
Wanda didn't recall stepping on anyone's toes specifically. But then the four rowdy boys were easy to anger anyway. She should have sent the four boys down to see Mr. Arrington, the principal. But she had always found words stronger than swords.
Lately she noted the youths angered over her remarks deriding their long-haired masculinity. In hopes of getting some noticeable results she had gone out of the way to poke fun at the 'hippie' and 'long-haired' craze. With her four angry male students she had perhaps gone too far. In exasperation she had finally threatened to send them to the principal unless they either trimmed their tresses or contributed more to the classroom activities.
"Damn you — Mrs. Morgan — leave me alone ..." Kevin seethed, clenching his fists. "You're going to leave me alone — or else!"
"Or else what . . . Kevin?" Wanda gasped, surprised.
"Quit poking fun at us guys ..." Kevin growled. "Or you'll find out!"
Wanda had glimpsed three other heads nod in silent agreement. All four youths glared at her with angry resentment. It was not as if she was trying to push them beyond their ability. She knew the ability was there. The youths just refused to participate in the class.
"I expect some noticeable changes in your attitudes . . . young men," Wanda affirmed, angrily. "Or else you'll report to Mr. Arrington. I will not be threatened by my students. Is that clear — boys?"
None of the four had answered her. They merely stared down at their desks in silent rebellion. They had not cracked a book during the duration of the class. Wanda ignored them. She had given them specific poems to memorize. Neither Barry nor Chris, nor Kevin nor Lucas knew a single line. Perhaps, Wanda meditated, the boys thought it unmasculine to recite poems.
Wanda was at a loss as to how to stimulate further interest in the youths. She had tried everything except coming out and bribing them by paying them to learn.
Wanda moved her red ball point pen over the test papers. She made critical comments when necessary. She much preferred the deep silence of the classroom after the students had gone to the interruptions she got at her apartment. Above her apartment a musical major practiced on a set of drums, shaking the ceilings and creating an atmosphere of disruption. With Kathy and Yevonne making regular calls on her she had little or no free time to herself.
Wanda's husband, Brian, worked the three to eleven shift at the hospital. So Wanda had plenty of time to kill. She thought about going to the teacher's library afterwards and then cutting across the far football field at the end of the school property line.
It was approaching seven-thirty and getting dark outside when Wanda got up from her desk. She deposited the thick pile of papers in her drawer. She locked it. Wanda pulled one sheer nylon up. She refastened it. Wanda carried two books in her arm as she walked down the long empty hallway. She listened to the staccato sound of her high heels against the freshly waxed floor. She waved good-bye to the janitor at the other end of the hall.
Wanda felt the cool chill of the night air as she walked down the steep cement steps onto the football field. Wanda was well-satisfied with her position as a teacher. She loved children even though she had none of her own.
Wanda was enjoying the cool breeze and the deep redness of the sky. She was in a silent reverie as she passed close to the bleachers. Though the seats were empty she could almost hear the sounds of the frantic students cheering their home team on to victory.
Wanda was taken by surprise when she felt a restraining arm thrown about her throat.
"Hold it right there . . . Mrs. Morgan," a deep masculine voice growled.
"Whoa — now — little lady," chimed a second angry voice.
"Who — who are you? . . ."Wanda gasped, unable to turn to identify her attackers.
"Friends — lady! ..." a voice growled. "We're here to even up a score with you. Some guys were telling us you get your 'kicks' by making fun of guys with long hair. Well — babydoll — we've come here to show you that guys with long hair are just as masculine as those with short hair!"
"There must be some serious mistake . . ."Wanda gulped. She tried to resist as multiple hands dragged her back through the bleachers. Wanda felt herself loosing her high heels. She felt her stockinged feet touching the cold damp ground. Wanda tried to scream. A hand was shoved over her mouth. Then a red western-type bandana was tied over her eyes. Wanda had gotten only one brief glimpse of her attackers — then all she had seen were the dark stockings over their faces, completely distorting their features.
"If there's any mistake — baby — you've made it yourself ..." a rough voice rasped. "So don't blame anyone for what's about to happen to you!"
"Wha — what are you going to do?" Wanda stammered.
Wanda felt herself stumble backward.. She did not know where she was going. All she knew was that several boys were dragging her back under the bleachers. She felt as if she was entering some thick black maze. Because the youths were deliberately distorting their voices she did not recognize them. There was nothing to give her the slightest clue to their identity.
Wanda felt herself falling on what felt like an army blanket. She felt the rough material. She reflected that commercial blankets were soft and fuzzy. This one was rough, having a very military feel about it.
Wanda could offer little resistance as she felt three hands moving over her body. The boys remained silent. Wanda was too frightened to try to scream. She knew no one would hear her.
"We're going to embarrass you — Mrs. High and Mighty ..." the softest voice chuckled. "We're going to make you so self-conscious that you feel like pissing all over yourself!"
"AMEN!" a baritone voice chimed.
"Unbutton your own blouse! ..." the softest voice commanded. "Do it — quick! You're going to undress for us — lady!''
Wanda made no move to follow their instructions. Wanda felt her hand twisted roughly until she thought her wrist would break. Wanda moved her free hand to the buttons of her blouse.
"Strip-lady!"
Wanda unfastened the first button. Wanda's heart was thumping so wildly that she could barely hear the labored breathing of her attackers. Wanda kept unbuttoning her blouse. She felt cool fingers unbuttoning her skirt.
"Okay — lady. Now pull your skirt down over your legs!"
"Please . . . no! . . ." Wanda sighed, in abject terror. "Please-NO!"
"Strip — woman! Or else something bad might happen to you!"
Wanda did not obey. She could not bring herself to undress in front of the boys.
"OHOO! OH-oooooo! NOOOOOO! OWWWWW!"
Wanda felt the fiery tip of a cigarette mashed against her soft breasts. The sensation and the momentary smell of burning flesh made her want to vomit. The youth pressed the cigarette deeper into her breast until she thought she would loose consciousness.
"Strip — lady ... or else you're going to have some pretty ugly tits for your hubby to suck tonight!"
Wanda tore her skirt from her body. She kicked it off with her feet. Wanda lay there in her bra and panties for the youth's inspection. She tried her best to identify the voices. If there had been four boys she would have immediately suspicioned the four in her English class.
"Now unfasten your bra—sweetie!" a gruff voice demanded.
Wanda moved so that she could maneuver her hands up behind her back. Wanda undid the hook and eye that held her brassiere over her firm lush breasts. She felt the heavy sag of her breasts against her flesh. She heard the boys whistle with pleasure as they glimpsed her lush mammae.
"Boy — are you hung heavy!" the soft voiced youth whistled. "God — what knockers! The way your tits stick out I bet your hubby sucks them a lot! I bet they grow as hard as a baby's prick when he sucks you!"
"Filthy — bastards!" Wanda hissed, as she felt very rough hands touching her breasts.
"Shhhhhh ... no names now. . . !" an intermediate youth sniggered.
Wanda felt her breasts being kneaded and caressed with open abandon. She felt hands roughly exploring her body. One hand touched her abdomen. It slid under the elastic of her nylon panties.
"Off with the undies —lovely! "the deepest voice beckoned. "Be quick about it!"
Wanda wanted to resist. But she knew there was no need of protesting. She knew the youths would ram another hot cigarette in her breast or tummy if they had to make her obey.
Wanda slid her finger under the thin elastic. She pulled downward. She heard the sharp intake of breath as she exposed her dark golden cunt hairs. Wanda felt the warmth of her thighs as she pulled off the panties exposing the vulnerable chasm that the youths were seeking.
"I guess you think we're going to fall on you and rape the hell out of you ..." the softest voice giggled. "No — not yet! First we're going to lay you down and make you masturbate yourself in front of us. We want you to feel self-conscious and embarrassed. You're going to show a little 'hair' since you're always making fun of long-haired guys being unmanly. I'm tempted to shave the damn thing off!"
"Fuck yourself with your finger — lady!" a deep, angry voice encouraged. "Come on — slide your finger between those soft pink pubic lips. Diddle yourself until you cream up a bit — lady!"
Wanda could not bring herself to hand defile her body. Even when she wanted sex desperately she could not bring herself to masturbate. She had always been sorely tempted towards auto-erotic sexuality but she had resisted ever since her mother warned her it lead to mental illness. Because Wanda felt some strong taboo against 'hand rape' she could not bring herself to touch her body in the suggested manner.
I said for you to 'finger-fuck' bitch ..." the loudest voice commanded.
Wanda felt something violently hot touching her vulnerable pudenda. She felt her cunt hairs being singed. Wanda knew the boys were touching their hot cigarettes to her kinky pussy hairs. Wanda felt the hairs curl towards her flesh. Wanda felt a burning sensation on her pudenda. She felt another on her thigh. She felt a third against her breast.
"OWWWWW! . . . Nooooo! Ahhaaaaa! Nooooo!" "Fuck yourself with that finger — sugar! Do it now! Or else I'll shove the lit end in your cunt!"
Wanda felt her palm touch her pubic mound. She felt her middle finger poking between the folds of her vaginal lips. Wanda moved her finger up and down. Wanda was too terrified to feel any sensations resulting from her hand rape. She merely obeyed in order that she might escape future punishment.
Wanda moved her finger back and forth over her nodular clitoris. She recalled how she had masturbated as a child. She had been afraid to defile herself for years, however, since she heard such horrible things about the effects of masturbation. Most of all, she knew that the guilt one felt afterwards was real. "Is it slick-honey?"
"Owwww . . ." Wanda gasped. She felt a cigarette pushed against the inside of her thighs.
Wanda closed her eyes. She continued masturbating herself for what seemed an eternity. Suddenly she felt rough hands pull her away. She felt something hard and fleshy being pushed into her hand.
"Jerk it a little—honey!"
Wanda did as she was instructed.
"Can you suck it a little—baby?"
Wanda parted her lips to the pulsating phallus. She felt it rammed deep down her throat. She felt her own tongue move over the piss-hole. She sucked as hard as she could.
"Swallow my juice — baby!" the youth sniggered. "Suck it down!"
Wanda did not resist as the hot cream poured down her throat. Wanda felt overcome with nausea. Wanda resisted the temptation to vomit. She prayed the boys would abuse her quickly and then release her. Wanda reflected that she would immediately begin carrying a gun in her pocket at all times.
'My turn now!" the bass voice noted. "I don't want any artificial sex either. I want you to respond like a paid whore! I want you to give me my money's worth."
Wanda felt the hard thrust of the rigid phallus between her thighs. Wanda did not protest as the youth pushed his full weight upon her. She felt him pumping long and hard, forcing his manhood inside until the root mashed against her thighs.
"Get with it — kid!" the softest voiced youth cried. "Show him you know how to fuck — baby!"
Wanda felt a hot cigarette thrust into her ribs. Wanda began moving beneath the body covering her. She pushed down against the buttocks to fake the motions of sexual response. She could not help the fact that as a male her captor was beginning to please her in a sensual manner.
"Oh — NO!" Wanda gasped, trying to hold back the compulsive desire to actively participate in her own rape.
"You're making her HOT!" the soft voice youth giggled.
"She's begging me for it—man!"
"Come on — Mrs. Morgan . the attacking youth jeered. "Get with it — lover! Give a pump for old glory! Let's shoot our nuts off together!"
"OHOOOOOO . . .ummmmmmmmmm!"
"Atta gal ..." her attacker groaned. "Sock it to me —babe!"
Wanda felt herself responding like some primitive animal. She no longer put up the pretense of fighting. Brian often proved tired at nights, incapable of erection except on the weekends. It was a refreshing thing to feel something hard thrust between her thighs. Something insistent and demanding. And virile. Wanda could not resist the urge to thrust back. To actively embrace the strange chain of events that led to one of the most ravishingly memorable moments of her life.
"Ohoo . . . I'm... co . . mi. . ng!" Wanda groaned. "Oh—no! Don't get me pregnant! . . ."
"Fuck a little harder — lady!" her attacker whispered. "Then I'll pull out before I shoot!"
"Coitus interruptus . . ." the soft voiced youth laughed. "I like to coite in ano. I've got a thin penis that won't hurt you!"
Just as she was about to experience her own orgasm Wanda felt her attacker suddenly jerk his penis out. Just at that moment Wanda felt her body stiffen. She moaned loudly. Wanda felt her body relax as the gooey liquid splattered on her thighs. The youth pressed her thighs tightly together. He pressed his dwindling penis between them, some six inches from her fertile pudenda. He mashed his spewing cock up and down between her thighs. Somehow he made her feel like have a second orgasm.
Wanda felt herself being turned over. Her breasts rubbed against the rough material of the army blanket. She felt her buttocks being spread apart. She felt a hard sexual organ being shoved into her anus.
"OHOOOOOO... NOOOOOOO!" Wanda screamed. "Oh—it hurts! So-oooo much!"
"Shut up and relax . . ." the youth laughed. "It won't hurt if you let it spread without fighting so much!"
Wanda tried to relax. But she was terrified. Wanda felt the rough sexual member ripping and tearing inward, like some impaling battle weapon. Wanda forced herself to go limp. She felt the assaulting penis move two inches inside her.
"Oh-no!" Wanda cried. "It hurts! . . ."
Wanda thought the pleasure would never come. She did not begin to feel it until the youth had his thin penis shoved deep into her bowels. Then Wanda began feeling the waves of sensual pleasure as he began pumping slowly. Wanda cried out. She flexed her sphincter against the violating organ. She felt the sensual waves increase in intensity.
"What a set of muscles! ..." the youth shouted, probing deeper.
"OHOOOOOO — ummmmmmmmm!"
"I adore raping school teachers!" the youth sniggered, shoving his phallus harder. "They pretend to be so pure and detached in class. But under their fancy clothes they burn with the same passions as the rest of the human race!"
"Burn —baby —burn! ..."
"She's getting HOT . . . HOT . . . HOT!"
"Watch out she doesn't bite your prick off with that tight little drawstring of hers!"
"Oh — do it! . . ." Wanda groaned. Wanda tossed her head from side to side as she clutched the thin material of the musty blanket. "Gawd — do it. Oh — do it-NOW!"
"You admit you're a woman? ..." the youth giggled. "As well as a four-eyed puritanical educator?"
"Oh — yes. Anything!" Wanda groaned, pushing her cunt down against the material of her blanket. "Do — something — quick!"
The youth in Wanda's ass-hole began ripping and shoving his slim penis in and out of her rectum. He moved his fingers around front to her pubic mound. He began fingering her clitoris. Wanda felt herself juicing up on the finger thrust into her as the hard organ in her rectum got ready to spew.
"Oh — gawd!" Wanda groaned. "I'm co . . mi . . ng!"
"She's COMING - you guys!"
"Yes — by gawd — she is coming. COMING. COMING SOON!"
Wanda collapsed against the blanket as she felt the penis spew. Wanda felt the ejaculation creaming her anus. She felt the youth slide out his phallus and then rub it against her wet vagina.
"Be careful!" Wanda screamed.
"Caution is my name! . . ."the youth roared.
Wanda felt ashamed of herself as another youth mounted from the front. He forced his long fat cock between her thighs. Wanda was ashamed because she knew she was being sexually pleased by her students.
She had her suspicions about who they were but she had no actual proof since they disguised their voices and she could not see through the thick bandana covering her eyes.
"Please — let — me — go!" Wanda gasped, trying to maintain her self-respect.
"Not until you've given us each a hearty fuck!"
"No — please! ..." Wanda pleaded. "My husband's home. He'll miss me. He may even phone the police!"
"Your old man works in the hospital until almost midnight ..." one youth jeered. "Just remember next time you deride our manhood what happened to you tonight. Remember — we can attack you almost anywhere. You've got to walk home. You're alone in your apartment until late. Maybe we'll even push you into the boy's room and rape you right on school property. If we knew you liked it so, we'd have done it long ago!"
"PLEASE! . . ."
"Promise to cut out the remarks about our hair? And about our being kids? Promise — teach? Because if we hear any more remarks about our manhood you'll get a repeat lesson! And you may even swell up to think you've swallowed the whole damn football field!"
"I'll promise anything! . . ." Wanda gasped. "Just let me go home. PLEASE!"
"Kiss my cock first!"
"Oh-no!"
Wanda parted her lips as another rigid penis was shoved down her throat. Wanda obediently fellated the youth to orgasm. She swallowed the ejaculation. She felt the salty taste of sperm lingering in her mouth. As the youths kissed her and touched her with brazen familiarity Wanda felt her flesh tingle.
Wanda realized that this marked the most grotesque night of her life. She did not know how she would face her students on the morrow. Word would spread about among them that she had been gang raped. She dared not report it to the principal. She did not want the matter to become public knowledge if she could prevent it.
"Boy — I can think of a thousand dirty things I'd like to do to you ..." the roughest voice laughed. "Next time some different guys will take turns with you. They might even be rougher — who knows? But if you like being gang-raped, well, just keep making fun of us guys in class. Well know then you want it bad. And well do our damndest to give it to you!"
"Can I go now? . . ." Wanda questioned, holding out her hands for her clothes.
Wanda suffered the humiliation of having the three youths dress her. She felt their rough hands buttoning her blouse. She felt them fasten her bra and pull her panties in place. She felt the all too familiar touches. The possessive fingers moved over her flesh. Wanda said nothing.
"Leave the bandana over your face five minutes while we make our get-away. . . ," the roughest voice demanded. "If you try to peep well know and give you a rougher time next time!"
"All right! ..." Wanda promised. "Please — go! I want to go home. Please — let me go!"
"Bang ..." a laughing youth yelled, "GANG — BANG! BANG . . . gang . . . bang!
Wanda did not move her fingers to touch the bandana for a long time. She was afraid one of the youths may have remained behind. She was afraid of what they might do to her. As the last sound of footsteps died she pulled the red kerchief from her eyes. She gazed at the few bruises on her flesh. Wanda said nothing as she walked in silent humiliation across the football field towards home.
PSYCHOLOGICAL COMMENT:
This case history indicates that teachers are often prime targets for aggressive-minded students who are eager to get revenge upon all symbols of adult authority. Teachers, nurses, parents, ministers — all have become the victims of attack at different times.
Many teenage youths resent their teachers so much they feel compelled to get revenge upon them. There have been many reports of student-teacher violence as well as incidents of molestation and rape,.
Wanda became afraid to walk at home at nights even though she carried a .22 pistol in her pocket. Wanda was deeply afraid that she might actually use the weapon if anyone approached her.
Wanda consulted me two weeks after the gang rape incident. She said she had not reported the matter to authorities for fear of further sexual assault. Wanda told me she felt like a musical instrument that tuned so tight the strings were about to break. These symptoms, I noted, seemed to be indications of an anxiety neurosis. My job was to relieve the feeling of anxiety and to return Wanda to a normal frame of mind.
"I nearly turn crimson . . ." Wanda confessed, "whenever a male student approaches me whistling bars of "Take Me Out To The Ball Game!" I know then that he knows about the gang rape. I find it difficult to look my male students in the eye. The girls in class have noticed my uneasiness. I'm at the point I just don't know what to do. All avenues of escape seem closed to me!"
Wanda is frightened. The embarrassing part, as revealed through analysis, is the fact that Wanda knows the youths know she enjoyed some portions of the rape incident. She feels this may stimulate another attack against her.
"As a woman they turned me on . . ." Wanda sobbed, drooping her shoulders in resignation as she stared out the open window. "But as a teacher my own conduct and reactions were deplorable."
Wanda feels guilty for her part in the activities. She cannot bring herself even to tell her husband of the incident. She confesses that she went home, douched and bathed for what seemed hours to rid herself of the unclean feeling that lingered over her body like radio-active chemicals after a bomb blast.
Perhaps because the male youths felt their manliness under attack by Wanda's cool remarks concerning their long hair they felt also a certain need for revenge.
There is little doubt that the motives consisted of vengeance and a certain amount of sexual passion. Perhaps Wanda's remarks heightened the youth's basic feelings of insecurity.
In SADISM Dr. L.T. Woodward notes . . .
"In short, sadism is an outward displacement of an inner destructive urge. The individual, from earliest childhood, learns to defend himself against the forces outside him by externalizing his own destructive instinct. In most of us, such forces are held under stable control. In some, though, the individual's insecurity is so great that he over-compensates by lashing out in destructive fury, the violence known as sadism."
It is obvious that the motives of the gang rape were both destructive, sexual, and an attempt to reaffirm masculinity through over-compensation. Insecurity among teenagers is often covered by violent and aggressive behavior. The true motives often come to light only after such cases come to the attention of psychiatrists after the original harm has been done.