Rolling over to one side and curling into a fetal position, Janet sobbed herself to sleep, knowing that there was no one who could help her.
CHAPTER SIX
It was all too familiar.
The smell of the ocean, the sounds of the waves as they fanned out along the botch. Janet remembered how happy she'd been at the start. It was so beautiful to see the puffy clouds scudding overhead, smelling the sharp pungent aroma of the sea, hear the splash of the waves. But under it all was the horror of what had happened here is Venice.
As she walked slowly down the walk, her hair whipping behind her, Janet thought of how she'd barely managed to say goodbye to her mother without breaking into tears. She had felt like some sacrificial virgin going to the slaughter! Virgin! No, that was one thing no one would be able to call her now. Jack had taken care of that, pile driving his fat-headed cock through her cherry, tearing it away, and tearing away her innocence. A tear oozed from her eye. She wouldn't think of it any more. There was this ordeal to go through, a horror she would have to endure to keep her shame a secret. Not even Julie was to know about this. She had pretended to be sick at school, making sure Julie didn't learn of it. Her friend would be calling her up at home, alerting her mother that something was wrong. No, hopefully this horror would be over soon and she could catch the bus back without anyone being the wiser.
Yet, if she ran now, they would never find her. For a moment she thought about leaving Venice, running away from Los Angeles. It was stupid, hopeless. She had no money, no friends or relatives nearby. How would she get across the country? And then there were men out there, perhaps worse than Jack or his friends.
Glancing at her wristwatch. It was ten to three. There was no time to think about foolish things. Pushing herself away from the railing, she turned and walked toward Nineteenth Place. How she envied the children playing in the sand, shouting and giggling, ignoring her while their parents looked on. If only she could be a child again, not have the horrible thoughts going through her mind as they were now.
"God!"
There was the street, that awful house at the end near the canals. Already she could feel her flesh crawling with something like revulsion and excitement combined. Perhaps Jack was right. Perhaps she was one of those women who enjoyed being beaten up by men, who loved being pushed around, then being fucked.
Sucking in her lower lip, trying to muster her flagging courage, Janet marched over the broken pavement to the run-down wooden house. Stopping by the gate, she cocked her head to one side. There was the sound of Latin music coming from the house next door. She thought she could see someone peering through the lace curtains. Did they know what was going on? Was that some woman eyeing her, pitying her, unable to help her as she marched off to her fate? Was there a man there who could rush in and save her if the others became too rough? No, they were probably just as frightened of Jack as she was.
The gate creaked open and Janet walked to the front door, hesitating only for a moment before knocking rapidly.
Jack appeared at the door, examined her briefly to make sure no one was with her, then jerked his head back in a movement to indicate she should walk in.
"Come here."
The door slammed behind her. There was that same sour, stale smell hanging in the air. She sniffed, wrinkled up her nose, then squinted her eyes, trying to get them adjusted to the dim light.
Bill had begun to draw the drapes over the front windows. From the beer cans scattered on the rug, she guessed the threesome was well on the way to a heavy drunk. Janet stood there, her hands folded in front of her, wishing she could simply sink through the floor and die.
"I said move!"
Janet walked over to him and looked at Jack's cruel yet handsome-looking face. His eyes seemed to bore a hole right through her! Jack fished out a pack of cigarettes, tapped one out. He lit it, flicking the still-smoldering match to the floor. He inhaled deeply, blowing blue-gray smoke into Janet's face. She turned her head, putting one fist to her mouth and coughing violently.
"Get 'er naked."
The command was almost military. She heard two beer cans being set down behind her. In a flash Bill and Greig were behind her, their fingers fumbling with her blouse and her skirt.
"No."
Wheeling around, Janet curled her fingers into to fists and started beating at Bill's face, jerking her knee forward and trying to catch Greig in the groin. But it was hopeless, so hopeless! Bill had her by the waist, holding her tightly to his body. Behind her Greig was tearing her blouse off her, ripping the garment off her shoulders.
Snapping her head back, Janet let out a cry of wild despair. The blouse was gone! She could feel the dank air of the room against her naked flesh. Next came the bra. Fingers slipped under the elastic strap, fumbled with the snap, pulled it open. Someone tore off, threw it to the corner.
"Noooooo!"
Bill had her hand pinned behind her back, twisting her wrist around until Janet found herself bending to one side. She was off balance, nearly falling to the floor, while in front of her Jack laughed at her plight. In another moment she felt something tear around her waist. Her skirt was being pulled down, her feet raised, the garment flying away from her body. In another instant she felt fingers playing with her panties. Somehow the terrified blond teen had managed to work one hand free, twisting it from Bill's heavy grip. She gripped the waistband of her panties and hauled it back up. The men laughed, backing away for a moment, giving the frantic girl some room as she clutched her pink nylon panties desperately. They were toying with her, playing with her just as they had played with her five days before. She moved her eyes from one man to the other, feeling herself on edge, ready to spring away from any of them if they started for her.
"Feisty bitch, huh, guys? She ain't mellowed since I popped her cherry last week. That's real fuckin' good, baby, real good!"
"Animals!"
Jack got up, holding the burning cigarette in front of him like a weapon. He moved, his boots crunching over the dirty wooden floor.
"Oh please, please don't hurt me," Janet whispered hoarsely.
She shook her head from side to side, her mouth open, her eyes tearing as she backed away from Jack. When the backs of her legs touched the couch, Janet knew she had reached the end of her rope. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Protectively she crossed her arms over her tits, her eyes rounded, focused on the glowing red tip of that cigarette.
"I like nipples like you got – nice, long and red. They get even stiffer and redder when you get goin', you know that? Man, when I was fuckin' you, they was like rocks," Jack said, laughing softly.
Janet gasped, her eyes dropping for a moment to his crotch. She saw his cock stiffening, pushing up against the front of his trousers, tenting them while he kept talking about her tits, her nipples. Janet stood very still, watching him raise that cigarette. With a quick slap of his left hand, Jack knocked her arms away from her tits, warning her not to move.
"Yeah, nice hard nipples, nice and red," he whispered, moving the tip of his cigarette within a few inches of her left tit tip.
"Please!" Janet whimpered, her body trembling with fear.
"Please, what? You want more? You want me to fuck you nice and hard?"
His lips were curled up cruelly, his eyes burning with something more than sexual desire, something more than a store desire to fuck her. Something in the back of Janet's mind was responding to his cruelty.
Janet took in a deep breath and held it. Her tits rode high on her chest, swelling out, the nipples nice and hard and red, the way Jack liked them. She stood very still, not daring to move as the big man in front of her brought that cigarette up toward her.