Chapter 3
Irving Daniels was not a greedy man, therefore it was agreed he and Patty would get together one day a week. Patty selected Monday because Monday normally was the unhappiest day of the week, what with everyone getting back to school after a weekend. A good roll in the hay, as the principal put it, was just the thing to take the blue out of blue Monday.
Rather than use the principal's office, it was agreed she would meet with him at his home in West Orange, New Jersey. Patty's agreeability stemmed more from her enjoyment of their encounter than from any threat he posed to her.
The removal of her hymen removed more than a piece of tissue from her body. It also removed a mental barrier. She had been dating a few men on and off, all of them black. Though color really didn't mean that much to her, she was enough of a racist to want to marry a black man.
Within the black community there was a variance in attitude toward different shades of black. For instance, an extremely black man usually looked to marry any female even the littlest shade lighter than himself. On the other hand, an extremely light-skinned black man, depending on his pride in his own race, looked either for a very black woman to assure his having black children, or, going the other way, he looked for a white woman in the hope of breaking away from the black community.
The same was true in reverse, where women looked for the right tint in their husbands. Patty however, didn't particularly care about tint, though she did insist her beaux be black. She did notice a lot of men were after her, though. For most black men she was a step toward being white. For light-skinned black men it meant the possibility of having a wife who would give birth to children that might pass for white.
It would have been ridiculous to close her eyes to the fact that a color problem still existed and would continue to exist for many generations to come. But Patty wanted her children to succeed, when the time came for them to exist, because of their abilities, overcoming the handicap of black skin.
However, the time was fast approaching when she, herself would have to fight back certain inner prejudices against her own people. One of these people was Randolph Potts, a nineteen-year-old boy who was still trying to get out of high school.
Randy Potts was what the other kids in school termed a mean "mutha." He was six-feet-three-inches tall, blacker than the ace of spades and inwardly bloated with a tremendous insecurity complex because of his skin color. In order to overcome his sense of insecurity he took to bullying at an early age. Since no one thought to stop him, he was still a bully. In fact, he was the school bully.
Randy had wide-flaring nostrils, small, gorilla-like eyes, a low forehead and a high afro. His jaw jutted out as if always challenging someone to hit it.
One look at Randy would have discouraged all but the hardiest of souls. He had a natural strength which came from having run long distances when escaping the wrath of his bible-spouting father.
He had raped more than two dozen different black girls in school, none of whom had dared speak out against him, and he had been eyeing the new teacher, Miss Brown, for some time. She had transferred him out of her class the first week she had come to the school, and Randy had thought of it as a direct insult to him. So he was determined to get back some of his own.
It was on a Friday afternoon that he noticed Patty Brown was in a classroom all by herself after school hours. She was preparing to leave, and he decided this would be as good a time as any to teach the bitch a lesson.
Patty was preparing to relax for the weekend. She had a nice date coming up Saturday evening, and tonight she would be able to relax in a hot tub and then watch a little TV.
Hearing a sound, she looked up and saw Randy Potts in the classroom. He was closing and locking the classroom door behind him and then pulling down the shade covering the glass upper part of the window.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" she snapped, talking in the imperious tone of voice most teachers take with their students.
"Ah knows what ah'm doin'," Randy told her. "S'just a question of makin' sure you know what ah'm about to do."
She wanted to run to the window and scream for help, but first of all there would be no one outside to hear her, and even if there were, all the windows were nailed shut ever since air-conditioning had been put in the school. To insure the window panes wouldn't break, wire mesh had been strung over them.
"Randolph Potts, you open that door this instant and leave," Patty snapped at him.
"Sheeyittt! Ah ain't gon'leave, leastways not till ah gets what ah came here for," he said, grinning like King Kong.
"I'll have the police on you so fast your head will spin," she said, moving to the other side of her desk.
"Fuck that!" Randy told her. "Ah already got me a standin' alibi with a half dozen kids who'll swear I was with 'em in a penny ante crap game on a street corner two miles away from here. Might as well face it, teach, you is gonna get fucked."
As she stared, the huge, apelike boy began undressing, pulling off all his clothing and leaving it all on the floor near the door.
"Randolph, don't you dare!" she gasped. "Don't you even dream of it." She was holding the pointed stick she usually carried with her.
Randy looked and laughed, his black cock standing out in front of him like a long, dark anaconda. It stretched and stretched and stretched, swelling and stiffening, and Patty realized the organ was as long as that of Irving Daniels, even if it wasn't quite as thick. It's very blackness seemed to make it look all the more menacing.
"Ah'm gon'take thet there stick away from you, teach, and ah'm gon'give you another stick to play with in its place."
Randy slowly continued moving toward her, and when she tried jabbing him with the stick, he took it from her and broke it. The boy's white eyes seemed to bulge frighteningly from their swollen sockets as he mentally undressed her, pausing as he lingered over the choicer parts of her anatomy.
"Y'know, teach, you got yourself one yelluva bod there. Wouldn't be fair f'me to let go of it, now. Ah'm gonna fuck you, y'might as well get that through yer skull. So now y'got the choice of gettin' the dress off as soon as possible, or havin' me tear it off."
This was incredible. After all this time she had been certain no male would ever be able to put a hand on her, and yet here was Randolph Potts giving her orders.
She backed up and he followed her. They moved to the rear of the classroom, and then back to the front again up another aisle. She was at her own desk again, and she opened the drawer and pulled out the sharp-edged ruler. When Randy leaped at her, she slashed with it, cutting a gash across his face. He yelled, backed up, then picked up a small ceramic vase on her desk and hurled it at her. She ducked, and as her head was turned away, he leaped at her, grabbed the ruler, and broke it.
"You gon get the dress off?" he asked.
Patty shook her head, as much angry as she was afraid, now. After all, there was sure to be someone here in the school, though she had no idea exactly where. If she screamed long enough and loud enough, even with the door closed, surely someone would hear her. "I won't do anything you want, Randolph," she told him. "Take one more step and I'll scream rape so loud they'll hear me in New York."
"Ain't no one gon'here you, teach. School's just 'bout empty 'ceptin' for the janitor, and he's downstairs fast asleep in the furnace room. Now you get that fuckin' dress off again. Ah ain't gonna say it a third time."
Hell, this light-skinned nigger-gal wasn't going to get away from him. Randy Potts was determined to fuck her. Sheeyitt! He had fucked some other black women even older than her, though not here in the school. After having fucked teenage girls and fifty-year-old women, and everything in between, Randy Potts had decided his best bet was something between twenty and thirty. Yeah, this was some good-lookin' pussy, all right, and he was gonna boff it to her.
Patty looked for spme way to get to the door, but Randy's powerful frame stood between her and the exit. She knew there was no way possible for her to get past him.
"You let me go this minute or I swear I'll scream."
The boy grinned broadly at the way she was behaving, and he pushed his hand into his back pocket. Sheeyitt! This fucking bitch wasn't going to scream, not now or at any time while he was in the goddamn school. His grin became an obscene and leering steeplechase smile, the self-assured, wide grin of conquest as he brought his hand out of the pocket and held it out in front of him. He had a long-handled switchblade knife, and when he pressed the button it simply popped open. He had the sharp tip pointed directly at her flat stomach.
"You ain't gon'scream, teach. You is gon'do what ah say."
"My God!" she gasped. "You wouldn't dare. You wouldn't have the gall. I have a half dozen brothers who would find you out and slice you to a million pieces."
"Mebbee!" he nodded. "But you won't be round to see it. So let's get this fuckin' on the road."
Patty knew she had to buy some time. Even if it meant undressing in front of the youth. Shuddering, she slipped her dress over her head, her fingers trembling as she stared at the white-eyed, black-faced boy. Then, as he prompted her with his knife, she slid out of her half-slip. Now she was standing before him in brassiere and panties. He stared wildly at her long, lithe bare legs-she had removed her pantyhose after the last class and tucked them in her purse. She was so pert, so trim, so delightfully smooth. Sheeyitt! It was going to be like fucking a white woman. Her firm breasts made little mounds over the rounded cups of her small brassiere, and her almost-white midriff looked so luscious, as did the very gentle swell of her nearly boyish hips. His penetrating look frightened her even more now, and she said, gasping, "This is wrong, Randolph. You know this is wrong. I can't do this. Please, don't force me to do something for which we'll both be sorry."
"What ah wants to do is what ah wants to do," He snapped. "Ah'll tell you this jus' once. You shut your mouth 'fore ah hits you upside your head."
He stood a little closer to her now, and she knew there was no chance for escape. She might risk yelling for help again, hoping he wouldn't stab her, but there was something cold and inhuman about the way his large, white, round piggy eyes looked at her, and she felt a shiver in her belly at the thought of him carving her up like a turkey. Even rape was better than being cut up.
The youth was standing directly in front of her now, his large lips right near her, and then his mouth was engulfing her as his powerful arms, now as bare as the rest of him, encircled her. She felt the coldness of the knife handle against her back and realized he had closed the blade. But he was still holding onto the knife, and she knew he was crazy enough to try and use it. Randy sucked on her tongue and pulled at her soft lips, chewing on everything with his ravenous mouth, actually trying to hungrily devour her.
Patty feebly struggled, but found herself barely able to remain on her feet. She was well aware of how easily she might collapse in a helpless pile on the floor at any given moment, weak from terrified horror at what the boy was doing to her. His thick tongue was filling her mouth, swirling around heavily and thickly inside. The youth seemed tremendous as he hugged her to his black body, creating the impression she was being surrounded by a black bear. Lord! He was like some monster from a fairy tale rising from some hidden cavern, prepared to swallow her down.
"Let me go . . . please . . . please ... let me go . . ." she weakly whimpered, squirming like a rabbit in the paws of a voracious beast.
Randy moved with her squirms, using one arm to clear her desk, knocking everything on the floor. He moved with her as if the two of them were a single body, and the woman felt a horrible fear freezing her limbs, filling her belly with horror. The dizziness became worse and worse as the whole room spun drunkenly around and around.
She was lying on the desk. Her brassiere and sheer panties were violently being pulled off, ripped away, and thrown to the floor. The black youth's body was crawling all over her as she lay on the smooth wooden top and his hands were suddenly everywhere.
"Ggggguuuuunnnnnggggghhhhh!" she gasped as she suddenly felt the solidly thrusting drive of a fist being rammed with all his strength between her widely spread thighs. She gasped and tried jerking away but the intruding hardness continued following her, and his hungrily wet mouth slammed itself firmly against hers, stifling any cry she might have made. Patty struggled and kicked with all her might, and her foot managed to plant itself in his belly, and she pushed with all her strength, hurling him off her and slamming against the desks off to the side.
"Hot damn!" Randy muttered, leaping to his feet.
Patty tried rolling off the desk but he grabbed one of her shoulders and slammed her down on the wooden surface, and then hurled himself on top of her again. This time he wrapped a hand around her throat.
"Ghhhhuuuurrrrgggghhhh!" she gagged, struggling, writhing and twisting, and then the whole world slowly but surely began growing dim and she was certain she was going to die.