Chapter 3
Heather raced home on feet that seemed tireless. She came into the house, panting but avoided her parents and went directly to her brother's room. Somehow, it seemed to her that her parents wouldn't understand the need for secrecy in this. They would call the police and who knows what horrible things would happen.
She didn't doubt for an instant that Mr. Elliot would frame all of them with the bags of dope he had in his desk. The man's evilness exuded throughout the school like a malignant cancer. The police weren't the way of handling him. She hoped Mark would have a better idea.
"Hi, Sis," he said, looking up from a book he was reading. The redhead pushed an unruly shock of hair back and peered at her with eyes that were as iron-gray as her own.
"God, Mark, I'm so glad you're here. I've got one hell of a big problem."
His eyes widened slightly. Hearing his sister swear like that proved the problem was of major size. He couldn't remember ever hearing her say anything more potent than "darn" before.
"Go slow and let me have all of it, Sis. You ... you're not pregnant or anything like that, are you?"
"God, no! This is worse!" she blurted. Heather tried to keep calm while she told him about how she'd seen Mr. Elliot spanking and fucking Susan, then how the same thing had happened to Lynn when the girl tried to blackmail the principal, but the words became so jumbled up she wasn't sure she said anything right.
Finally, he got the story and sat thinking about it. "This is one hell of a fine mess," he agreed. "And I see why you didn't want to tell the folks about it. All they could think of doing would be to call in the cops. Even if old Stone Face didn't use the heroin like he said he would, how do we square Lynn's attempted blackmail? That bastard is dealing from the bottom of the deck and we've got to play along."
"Mark," Heather said passionately, "you've got to help her?"
"Huh? Who do you mean?"
"Lynn! She's still there! He was still fucking her when I left to come find you. He said he was going to fuck her all night long!"
The words stunned the seventeen year old. He sat for a moment, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong. When his sister had laid the story on him, he'd thought this was something which was over. He hadn't realized that Mr. Elliot was still merrily fucking away at the captive girl in his office.
That changed things drastically. "Okay, Sis, we go to see Mr. Elliot. Maybe we can declare a truce or something. Anything to get Lynn away from him." He shuddered a little at the thought of facing that madman. If he was bold enough to fuck students in his own office at school, he was probably secure enough to feel he could get away with anything. But he had to make the effort-for his sister and for Lynn's sake.
Mark had lusted after the fiery blonde for some time. He was sure this would get him in good enough with her so she would put out for him. The thought of fucking Lynn made his prick tingle and surge with desire. Just looking at his own sister was making him horny! The youth had been striking out again and again with the chicks and he was so goddamned horny now he would fuck a knothole and think it was good.
"Uh, okay, knight in shiny armor to the rescue. But come with me, huh? You know, to take care of Lynn and all," he said. He didn't want to admit he feared Mr. Elliot. Besides, what could the man do to him? But the terror remained, even though Mark tried to convince himself it would have been all right if he went alone.
"They're gone!" Heather exclaimed. "I left them in the office and now they're gone! Where could they have disappeared to?"
Mark walked over to the chair and found the strands of tape on the legs. He pulled them off and looked at them dumbly. The back of the chair had a stain, recent and sweaty, which showed a body had been draped over it just as his sister had said. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd seen what she'd seen. She wasn't making it up.
"The school's pretty deserted right now. They might be any..."
"What the hell are you kids doing here?" came a cold voice. They spun, guiltily, and saw Mr. Larson, the shop teacher, standing in the doorway.
"I ... we were looking for Mr. Elliot. I, uh, we wanted to talk with him. Personal business," said Mark.
"Humph. Well, let's look for him, then. I saw him not too long ago. Why don't you check down that way while she stays here in case he comes back. I'll check down the other wing and we can meet back here in a few minutes."
"Well, okay," said Mark, reluctantly. He didn't want to leave Heather here alone, but as long as she was alone, it would be all right. What did they really have to fear now, anyway, with the shop teacher here? Mr. Elliot wouldn't dare try anything with an adult witness.
"Go on, Mark," Heather urged. "It'll be okay. And I want to get this over with as soon as possible."
She watched her brother disappear down one hall and the shop instructor go in the other direction. In less than a minute, Mr. Larson came back in and shut the office door. Suddenly frightened, Heather looked up and said, "Did you find him?"
"Hell, sweetie, I didn't have to look. Jim's down in the shop with that other dumb cunt he was fucking."
Her entire body went numb with horror. Mr. Larson was in this with the principal. She should have realized it from the start, but the confusion she'd felt at seeing her friend raped like that had made her too trusting. Before she could open her mouth to scream for her brother, a thick, calloused hand clamped firmly on her mouth.
"Just keep quiet, kid, and you won't get hurt. We're going down to see what old Jim has in store for you. He's got one whale of a fine imagination for using sluts like you."
No matter how she struggled, Heather couldn't free herself from the strong grasp. Mr. Larson propelled her down the hallway and into the third door on the right. The smell of sawdust and fright reached her nostrils. Amid all the heavy shop equipment was something she'd never seen before in this classroom. A set of crude wooden stocks held Lynn motionless. The girl had been stripped completely naked, her head and wrists imprisoned in one stock while her legs were held widely spread by a three foot two-by-four. In her mouth was a small rubber ball held in place by a piece of string.
The frightened eyes staring at her told part of the story. The ugly red lash marks across the girl's firm, youthful body told the rest. Mr. Elliot had been whipping her with a yard long piece of rough hemp rope. And from the white goo oozing down the insides of her wide-spread legs, he must have raped repeatedly since she'd fled, leaving the other girl alone in the office.
Heather didn't have to be a genius to know what was in store for her. There was already another set of stocks gaping wide open. She began to fight furiously. Managing to bite down hard on Mr. Larson's hand allowed her to scream, but it did no good. She could tell by the thick soundproofing in the ceiling and on the walls, that this room was designed to be as quiet as possible.
"Damned bitch," snarled Mr. Larson, pulling his injured hand away from her mouth. "I'm gonna enjoy using you."
The words shocked her more than anything else. "Use her." He didn't consider her anything more than a receptacle for his prick. She was a cunt to him and nothing else. Not even human. Zero. Zip. Something to be used and then discarded.
Mr. Elliot spun around and flung her into the open stocks. When she heard the wooden click followed by a metallic snap, she knew she was helpless. Her hands were imprisoned about a foot away from each ear. There was no way she could possibly open the stocks now.
"I love peeling the clothes off these bitches," Mr. Elliot said. "And I've been getting hornier and hornier flogging the other one. Her cunt's actually gotten floppy and loose since we've fucked her so many times."
"Yeah," said Mr. Larson, leering at Lynn, "she was good when we started, but after the fourth or fifth time, even up the ass, it wasn't as good. Think this one will last longer?"
Heather shivered under the malevolent gaze. His eyes were snake-like. Yellow and round and totally lacking in any human kindness. But she tried to escape when Mr. Elliot began unbuttoning her blouse. She didn't want to end up like Lynn had.
Rape fantasies are shared by all women and are fascinating to them-as long as they remain fantasies. But this was turning into reality. As much as her body yearned for the feel of a man's prick violating her cunt, she didn't want that. Emotionally, she wasn't able to handle it. She fought but it did no good. Mr. Elliot was too strong for her and, imprisoned in the stocks as she was, she couldn't hope to use her hands to claw his eyes.
He stripped off her blouse, then undid her bra leaving her naked to the waist. He whistled in appreciation and said, "Goddamn, what a pair of knockers she's got. Ever see a pair like those tits, Mike? Fucking her is going to be a lot of fun."
"You're right, Jim. Look at this." He reached out and flicked the nipple of her left tit. She jumped as if touched with an electric wire. The way her nipple sprang erect and hard made her feel embarrassed. She wasn't turned on by the crude handling. It was the fear that made her tits fill with excited blood.
"She-likes that. She-likes it a lot. Hell, there's not a bit of sag in those size 38's. 38 C, you suppose?"
"Lemme check." Mr. Larson's thick hand circled around her right tit and squeezed down hard. She moaned, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry. The sensations ripping into her chest were indescribable. Never had she felt this way before. Whenever a boyfriend had played with her tits, it had been gentle. Not like this roughness. He gripped down hard on the big boob and started moving it in a huge circle.
She thought he was trying to rip it off her chest. She sobbed and moaned under her breath, wondering at the way her body was responding to this fondling. It didn't hurt-not exactly. But it was so humiliating! But she was beginning to enjoy it. The feel of the man's hand moving across her aroused nipple sent surges of carnal electricity volting down into her chest. She hated him doing it. But she didn't want him to stop!
"I think the slut-likes it. Look at her face, Jim. She-likes it when I do this to her tits!" He started pressing his palms firmly into her young tits. The marshmallowy flesh flowed under the pressure, squirting out around his hands until the nipples poked firmly into the palms of his hands. She groaned and struggled to escape this sweet torture. She couldn't. The stocks held her too firmly.
"Please, why are you doing this to me!" she cried.
"Hell, you tell us, sweetie," Mr. Larson said. "I think you like it. Don't you? Tell me you like it!"
He grabbed and twisted her tits with a furious jerk that sent pain rocketing into her brain. She was certain he was going to yank off both her boobs and leave her a deformed freak. She could only answer him, "Yes, yes I love it! Now leave me alone!"
"Shit, baby, we're just starting." He continued to fondle her boobs, playing with her eraser-hard nipples, while the principal stripped off her skirt and threw it aside. Her white cotton panties were damp in the crotch from all the activity. Even Heather couldn't tell if it was from sweat or cunt juice.
This excited her in a perverted way. She didn't want to be raped. Thinking about it might excite her, but the actual rape was terrifying. Still, she couldn't deny the way her cunt throbbed and hungered for cock. The more she saw in the principal's office, the more she longed to have a meaty cock shoved deep into her fuck hole.
"Can't get the friggin' things off," muttered Mr. Elliot. "Where's that knife?" She felt cold metal glide along the outside of her leg. She tried to avoid it but couldn't. It cut hard into the cotton fabric of her panties and then she felt the cold air surging across her overheated snatch. The panties had been cut off entirely. She was only glad that the man hadn't used the knife on her skin.
Still, her position didn't appear too hopeful. The shop instructor continued to manhandle her boobs until she wanted to break down and cry. The feel of a man's hands on her tits was nice, but this was more than a simple fondling. She knew she was entirely under the man's control. He could do anything at all to her and she couldn't hope to stop him.
"I think the little girl's beginning to shake a bit, Jim. What are you gonna do to her?" The harsh voice seemed to ask the question in spite of knowing what the answer was going to be, but he wanted to make her fully aware of how hopeless her situation was.
"I found me one hell of a fine snatch. Lookit all that curly red hair. And damp! Man, that pussy fur is already wet with lust. Do you suppose she's got a letch for her principal?"
Heather moaned softly as agile fingers began to explore her pussy. The hand moved and cupped her entire twat, then squeezed. She emitted a tiny yelp like a dog who's had its tail stepped on. When a finger probed deeply between her pussy lips and all the way up into her gooey cunt, she thought she would pass out.
"I don't believe this. The whore's still a virgin. A virgin cunt! Shit, I haven't found one of them the whole time I've been principal at this lousy school."
"An endangered species," agreed Mr. Larson, who still kept his hands moving across her tits. He seemed reluctant to give up the handholds he used to maintain control over her.
"I guess it's my duty as principal," said Mr. Elliot, "to instruct this young girl in sex. Sex education has always been one of my big projects in this school, you know."
"Christ, how could I not know?" said Mr. Larson. "You're gonna wear that pecker of yours out in all the hot pussy one of these days. Why not let me fuck her, in way of educating her cunt?"
"No," he said, harsh, final, firm. "She's all mine. Aren't you, sweetie?" He pressed his face close to hers and she had to hold back the urge to puke. He reached up and pulled her face around so that he could kiss her on the lips. She kept her mouth resolutely closed. He wasn't going to French kiss her. No way.
But he did. His tongue drove in between her lips like a battering ram. She kept her teeth firmly clenched, though. But when his finger drove into her cunt, she opened her mouth to exclaim. That was all the opening he needed to shove his tongue cock-hard into her mouth.
There, he played with her tongue as so many of her boyfriends had done in the past. She could almost forget she was in crude wooden stocks and about to be raped. If she pretended this wasn't the principal but one of her boyfriends, it wasn't too bad at all. She gasped slightly and then began to move her tongue against his in a rough, pink caress. Their saliva intermixed and she felt her breath coming faster.
The hand gripping her boobs tightened and she felt a surge of desire pass throughout her body. The tongue dueled passionately with hers and the hand stroking across her turgid nipple almost made her forget her predicament.
Then came the harsh voice, "Enough of this kid stuff. I'm hard. I'm ready to fuck her."
She opened her eyes to stare directly into the principal's face. She found no tenderness in his eyes. Only lust. And she knew he was going to take what she wouldn't freely give him.
"You animal!" she raged. "I hate you!"
"Didn't seem that way a second ago. You were coming on pretty strong. See how these prick teasers are, Mike? One second they're melting all over you begging for your prick, and then the next they freeze up on you and don't want a thing to do with you."
"Beast!"
"Yeah, just like you're a bitch in heat. And I'm gonna pick that little cherry of yours, kid. Spread those soft legs of yours so I can get my cock into your cunt."
"Go to hell!" she flared, kicking out in a vain attempt to plant her foot in his groin. He simply laughed and trapped her leg easily and held it under his right arm. This forced her to open her crotch to him.
She closed her eyes and tried to ignore him. But it didn't work. She felt the blunted head of his prick bounce against her cunt lips and go skittering wetly down the length of her sex gash. He'd missed, but he was persistent. His prick returned and this time forced its way between her tightly clenched cunt lips. She groaned as the glans of his cock entered her cunt hole.
She hadn't thought it would be like this. Heather had wanted her first time to be soft and gentle and caring and all night long. It seemed about all she was going to get was the all night long fuck fest. These two men would take turns with her until she was a torn and bloody mess.
And then they'd go back to Lynn and fuck her. No matter how the teenager turned, she couldn't win. Not with these two men.
"God, I can feel the heat boiling out of her cunt. And tiiiight, man you can't believe how fucking tight she is."
"Hell, only the tip of your prick is in her. Go on and fuck her good. Show her what a real stud you are, Jim."
The principal didn't have to be urged twice to do just that. His prick moved with all the speed of a glacier into her cunt, but it also moved with all the power of that massive sheet of ice. She gasped as his prick slowly filled her cunt to overflowing. Then she cried out in pain as he began pressing hard against her hymen.
The fragile little sheet of membrane began to stretch under his prodigious power. She thought she might faint from the pain ripping its way into her guts, but she couldn't really tell if it was physical or mental anguish that hurt her the most.
The pain assaulting her body she could tolerate. It hurt like hell, sure, but it wasn't any worse than when she'd broken her arm. The tautness inside her came from a sexual tension as much as the physical stretching of her cherry. The man's prick didn't stop, though, but came right on up into her cunt. ' She cried and thrashed around but this only made it worse. The pain mounted as she tried to escape his clutches. When she didn't think she could take any more, she blacked out for a second. The brief faint didn't last long. When her consciousness returned, his cock still hammered into her rubbery cherry.
That pain was bad, but the mental pain was worse. She felt guilty. She might have avoided this in some way, though how she couldn't say. The man's insistence was too much for her. He knew what he wanted and came after her to get it, but still she felt guilty. As much as anything else, she wanted his meaty prick driving hard into her cunt, fucking her, making her into a woman at long last. She couldn't admit this out loud. Not even to herself could she fully confess such a dirty, base, wanton desire. But her body cried out for cock and lots of it. She was tired of hearing her girlfriends talk about how they'd all balled their boyfriends. She wanted a little of that sexy action, at least subconsciously she wanted it.
But the physical reality of that prick driving into her virgin cunt was almost more than she could handle. She wanted to cry out, to protest, to do something. The stocks on her hands and neck prevented any real action. Besides, how could a teenager possibly fight off two determined, grown men who wanted to rape her?
"Love this, God, do I love the feel of virgin pussy all around my cock," Mr. Elliot said.
"You lucky bastard. I never got a cherry, never!" exclaimed Mr. Larson. "I hope you enjoy it, you low life scum bag."
"I'll enjoy the fucking hell out of her!" he promised. Then he tensed a bit more and Heather almost lost her mind.
The pressures inside her cunt were at the breaking point. She didn't know how she could possibly handle any more pain. The way his blunted cock pressed so firmly into the rubbery sheet of her cherry drove her crazy. Then his prick snapped through the membrane and his cock surged balls deep into her cunt.
She blacked out again with the pain. When she came to again, he was avidly fucking her bloody cunt. The blood oozed from her innards and dribbled down the velvety soft insides of her thighs. But that wasn't what frightened her the most. She was actually enjoying this rape. She couldn't possibly admit this to anyone!
Her cunt was being ravaged by the insane principal and her cunt was drooling obscenely.
"Shit, never felt a chick this tight around my old pecker before," the man said. "Love it, God Almighty, how I love this! I could die right now and go happy, fucking a chick with a cunt this tight. And when she learns to use those pussy muscles, she's gonna be the best goddamned lay around this whole fucking school!"
Heather's eyes fluttered as she tried to sort out all the new and wondrously different feelings rampaging through her body. The feel of his prick inside her answered basic needs she had been repressing for so long. This was how she should have scratched the deep itch she'd felt for so many years. Masturbating was nothing compared to having a man's prick moving around inside her.
She tensed her cunt muscles as she felt his hand drag across her nipples. He grunted in pleasure while she could feel the contours of his prick. The man's cock was bigger inside her than she'd imagined it would be. She could even figure out where the broad arrowhead of his glans was, how the big blue vein on the top of his prick pulsed and throbbed with life, and the way his entire meaty prick bucked and jerked in her agitated pussy made her feel more like a woman than ever before.
Heather liked this while she hated it at the same time. It was so confusing!
"Stop it," she begged the man. "Don't do this any more to me! Please! I can't take it any longer!"
"Hell, baby, this is probably as long as you'll ever take it!" he leered. "I'm a good eight inches long and there's no stud in the whole fucking school any longer than I am," he bragged.
She shut her eyes and abandoned her senses to him. No matter what he did to her now, it couldn't possibly be worse than what he'd already done. He'd robbed her of her most precious possession. And she wasn't going to forget it. Somehow, some way, someday, she would get even with him. And it wouldn't be pleasant when she did.
For now, all she could do was try to relax and enjoy the new and wondrous feel of his cock driving back and forth in her well-oiled cunt. This wasn't quite what she'd had in mind when she vowed one day to lose her cherry to the man she loved, but she could still pretend.
In her head, he could be her lover. But the man, no matter how many times he violated her body, would never touch her innermost core. She would hate with all her passion, just as she allowed her body to experience all the carnal passion possible from his fucking.