God, how utterly stupid she'd been to abandon herself to her molesting lusts! Had she been a stronger person herself, and not allowed her own corrupting passions to uncontrollably blind her, this horrible nightmare would never have occurred! But it had, and she had to face up to the fact that she had been completely and wantonly entranced by the slim, virile youth and the delicious but depraved sensations he'd sent coursing through her helplessly driven body.
She clenched her hands into so tight a pair of fists that her fingers hurt as she continued to think of the depths of depravity to which she had brought them both. The words she had made the boy use, and worse, what she had aroused in him to do, made her inwardly cringe with shame and guilt as she walked. God, if she could just erase that horrid afternoon with Wayne in her apartment and replace it with something else – anything but what she had done! Her eyes began to puddle, blurring over her vision of the gently waving field which stretched before her, but then she shook her head and stopped herself from crying. There was a time for tears and a time for facing up to reality, and there was no use for her to fool herself with wishful thinking. Her pride, her stubborn and determined resolve to beat the molesting urges which had ruled her life for so long, still fought desperately in her mind.
But then, with a perverseness that made her tremble, another dark recess of her brain brought forth another image of the event in her bedroom last Wednesday afternoon. Joan felt the blood rising in her cheeks as vivid recollections of the boy's youthful nakedness and her own lustful performance drifted involuntarily back to her. The unwanted mental images trickled through her mind, reviving a sudden tingling between her inner thighs, until she was forced to squeeze them tightly together as she walked along the path. She was still squirming her buttocks in an effort to end the taunting sensations, when suddenly a boyish voice called out: "Well, look-a-here. If it ain't our pretty little sex teacher all by her lonesome in Ebenezer Treakle's pasture."
"Wh-what?" Joan said, startled as she came out of her concentrated thinking. It was then that she saw that she was right beside a large, dilapidated wooden barn, its roof half off and its interior filled with dirty hay and cow manure. Beside the leaning doors were lounging Wayne Conroy, Mickey Hagen, and Knuckles Gerber. She realized that it had been Wayne who'd spoken so disrespectfully to her, but that all three of the youngsters were watching her with boldly leering eyes.
"A-Aren't you boys an awful long way from your homes?" she asked, a strange twinge of subconscious apprehension rippling through her belly.
"Naw," Mickey sneered, "we was waiting for you, Miss Frazer."
"Sonofabitch, she sure is worth waiting for, too," Knuckles chimed in. "Just look at them knockers stick out from her sweater!"
"Hey, Miss Frazer, how about you and me goin in the barn and husslin' a quickie before you go?" Mickey hooted lewdly at her.
Joan took a step backwards, a sinking sensation beginning to grip the pit of her stomach as she heard the chorus of snickers and chortles that came from the three young boys. "Wh-what's the meaning of this!" she managed to stammer in a slightly thickened voice. "Mickey, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, talking to me like that!"
"Come off it, teacher," Wayne said contemptuously. "Don't try to pretend you're stuck up. We all know you love a good fucking."
The blood drained from her face almost to the point of dizziness, and she felt her legs begin to buckle beneath her. Oh, dear God! He'd told them! He's bragged about making love to me, and now there's no hope of concealing the truth! Oh God, what am I going to do…?
"Right on, man," Knuckles chuckled, his leer spreading wider over his thick-lipped homely face. "That's what I hear tell, and I bet it's true!"
"And you know something?" Mickey added with his own lascivious grin, "I think we should find out for ourselves, and that's a fact!"
Oh no! Joan thought, her mind blanking rapidly from sensible reasoning, her simple dread of a moment before giving way to that of rising panic. She heard more snickerings from the trio as she gaped from one to the other of the youthful, lust-contorted faces, and the fate they had in store for her became as obvious to her as the sunlight of the afternoon.
Suddenly her stomach-gripping terror turned to sheer panic, and she wheeled from them and broke into a desperate run across the field. She pulled her skirt up to her thighs and ran as fast as she could, but her high-heeled shoes impeded her speed, and she was unable to shake them off without losing her stride.
"Get her!" she heard Wayne Conroy shout from the barn behind her. "Don't let her run away now!"
"Hot damn, she's a fast piece of tail," Mickey called out.
"Yeah, just look at them boobies bounce!" Joan heard Knuckles say in a puffing voice behind her. He was so close that she could almost feel his breath down her neck. She strained harder, trying to run faster and escape the coarse, horrible teenagers behind her. There was not one single doubt in her mind of what was going to happen to her if she were caught, and the thought made her run even faster. Her breath was coming in small gasps now, and her legs felt as though her muscles would turn to rubber, but she kept her eyes straight ahead and looked pleadingly over the empty meadow in search of safety.
A hand reached out and grasped at her long dark hair that was flowing in a breeze behind her. It missed, but then the hand grabbed again, and she was pulled up sharply like a lassoed steer and thrown roughly to the ground.
"Help me! Oh please somebody help me!" she screamed at the top of her voice. "Help! Help!"
"Shout all you want, Miss Frazer," Wayne snarled, "but it ain't going to do you any good. You can yell your lungs out, and there ain't a soul around to hear you! Unless you think some cows will come runnin' to your rescue!"
She looked up from where she lay sprawled upon the soft and matted grass, shaking her head slowly as she gazed fixedly into his pitilessly glaring eyes. Her brain struggled for the proper words of entreaty, but at last all she could manage to stammer was: "Pl… please, Wayne… My God, don't… don't do anything to me. I… I beg of you, don't…"
"Why, Miss Frazer, you're getting yourself all upset for nothing," he said in a cruelly mocking tone. "Now, you just think how much you wanted me to fuck you last week, and how you loved my prick after I got it inside you, remember?"
Joan heard the laughing grunts of agreement and fought to hold back her tears. Dear God, she wouldn't give the boy the satisfaction of seeing her cry on top of everything else. She understood it all now, for it was obvious that he was doing this to her because of the frigid way she'd treated him last Wednesday! The irony of it all! Her one small act of decency had backfired in her face, and in all honesty she had to admit that she couldn't much blame Wayne for paying her back. Retribution was never kind, and now she was about to receive her earnings from him and his wolfish pals. But God, there were three of them! One she might have been able to even learn to desire… but three young boys all at the same time!
"Please, Wayne, I… I'm sorry about…" She faltered, seeing in his eyes that to confess about his supposed inadequacy would only make matters worse for her. She gulped heavily. "I just can't…"
"Yes, you can. You can and you will!" He grinned down at her. "Take her to the barn, you guys, and let's get the fucking party started!"
Both Mickey and Knuckles had her from behind now, and they forced her to her feet and began to prod her back in the direction of the decrepit hay shed. The door leaned on one hinge, and squeaked as they thrust her stumbling through the opening and into the murky shadows of the barn. Joan's dark eyes were wide with terror, and her mouth twisted with a soundless scream that was choked silent by the fear that welled thickly in her throat. Oh God, she prayed silently, don't let it happen like this. Please don't let it happen…!