Despite her fear and anguish over what had happened in the little room, she could not deny the searing hotness that now licked at her bowels. Electric arcs of glorious sensation shot from her now sizzling cleft, following the paths taken by Barry's teasing fingers, which drove her to a place of abandoning all sense except that one of waiting for Barry to mount her and pump into her. She tried to pray again, but lost the motivation as her will became weaker by the second. Part of her was finding a bizarre sense of enjoyment from being raped and there was nothing she could do about it. I guess that part of me is going to hell, she thought, as Barry slid his skewering thickness into her waiting cuntal walls.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The scream of an ambulance made Linda jerk her head up. She snapped her neck a bit as she heard the siren and the pain from it began to wake her up. Slowly she opened her eyes and wondered where she was.
She was still in the cheerleaders locker room! Good Lord, those rapists must have done something awful… then it slowly came back to her.
The shock of receiving Barry's brutal thrusting into her vagina had made her pass out. Stuart apparently had woken her up by slapping her face, then Barry had gotten in an argument with him about what they should do with her. "She's not gonna be able to take anything unless we get her relaxed. You're gonna have to give her some reds to make her feel good and mellow," he had said.
Stuart argued back that he just wanted to fuck the teacher, and if she passed out, well, he'd just punch her a good one. But his heart wasn't really in the argument, and he relented fairly quickly and got out about 10 little white capsules from the pocket of his jeans.
"Swallow these, baby," he said. Linda looked at him groggily and received yet another slap in the face. "Jesus Christ, lady, what the hell is your problem anyhow," he yelled as Linda fell back onto her back in pain. Fine, fine, she thought. If these will relax me fine. She'd never taken drugs of any kind before, which was why she'd hesitated.
She'd closed her eyes, the thinking being that Barry and Stuart wanted her to act relaxed. And it seemed to work, because she heard no complaints, just another discussion about where they could get hold of a gun, preferably a rifle, as soon as possible.
"I wanna blow that guy away."
"Yeah, but I think they have guns. That's what Max said that they have.22s."
"I don't care."
"Maybe we should shoot a couple of teachers instead. Yeah, why not?"
"I can dig it, Bro."
Make it go away she thought when she heard that. And the drugs had, apparently taken hold at that point, for the, "I can dig it, Bro," sentence was the last thing she remembered hearing from anyone until she heard the siren.
The clock on the wall said 2:20. She had no idea if it was now early Saturday morning or the middle of Saturday afternoon or even sometime Sunday. Her whole body felt like cotton right now.
At least the punks hadn't taken her clothes, she thought groggily as she began pulling on her clothes. The period of enforced sleep had taken away some of the anger and humiliation she had felt over being raped.
Good Lord, Steve will have the cops out looking for me! Now she was dressed and hoping that she could get out of the door. It opened right away, and she saw that it was still the middle of the night with football confetti and other game trash still on the ground. She surmised that the janitors hadn't bothered yet to clean up, since they'd obviously do it in the morning. She also figured out why no one had come in the cheerleaders' locker room while she was sleeping for the last five hours or so. It was apparently one of the kind of doors that locks from the inside. Christ, what rotten luck, she thought. If she'd have gotten out of there sooner, the cops might have stood a decent chance of tracking down and, later on, getting her rapists thrown into the clink. But since she'd been asleep for the last five or six hours, no one would believe that she'd been drugged.
She dragged herself out of the locker room and started walking slowly through the deserted stadium grounds. Fortunately, the punks hadn't sliced her throat, she thought. What a stupid way to die! She promised herself that she'd be nice enough to people to never get in this kind of mess again. At least they hadn't ripped off her purse, she thought as she began walking toward the parking lot to get into her car.
But now she heard a low whimpering sound like a wounded animal might make. It came from several hundred feet away from somewhere in the dense Southern California fog. What in the world now?
She thought for an instant she heard an even slighter sound coming from the general area of the football field, from which she was about 500 feet distant. It sounded almost like the rustling of leaves. Then there was silence once more. After a minute of trying to listen, she turned and began walking away. It was probably snow or something like that.
She was almost to the parking lot next to the stadium when she heard the same whimpering sound again. Only this time there was no doubt that it was a human sound. It gave her the feeling that someone was hurting very badly, perhaps dying out there. She peered off towards the football field, but the fog was so thick that she could barely make out the outline of one of the sets of goalposts. And now she wrestled with her feelings – on the one hand, thinking that someone might be pulling a ruse to lure someone like her out where she could be attacked, and on the other hand, worrying that someone might be on the verge of losing his or her life, were she to walk away.
She thought for almost a minute and then heard a piercing cry that was somehow familiar, though she did not know how. Well, she told herself philosophically, even if I get attacked and killed, at least I'll have a clear conscience and stand a chance of going to heaven instead of hell. So she began walking slowly toward the football field, slowly enough so that she was hardly making any noise.
After what had happened tonight, it was almost as if she had gone beyond fear. Normally, the idea of walking around on a football field in the dead of a foggy night was something she would have never done, but the combination of pain, humiliation and a slight exhilaration over having survived the experience had somehow gotten her past those old feelings and apprehensions. She felt almost like a new person, willing to shed what had been a sort of mousey side of her character. The only real daring stuff she had ever done was to wear a couple of revealing clothes, and that was something she had strictly limited to trying to get Steve as aroused as possible.
Now, even thinking of Steve didn't produce much of an impact. She was still feeling some anger, she discovered, at having discovered him with Rosemary O'Neill. From now on, she'd stop doing things just to please him. It was time to start being an adult, now that she'd discovered that with something like getting raped, there was no way to have anyone really share the pain and humiliation. You suffered alone.
She kept on walking until she was about 100 feet from the goal posts, then stopped when she heard the whimpering sound again. She looked out at the center of the football field and spotted what looked like someone sitting out there and moving slowly up and down.
Then she heard one more whimper and knew what was going on. It was Pam the cheerleader out there with some guy! Now Linda walked in a few more steps, just to make sure that Pam wasn't being attacked.
She got the answer to that question almost immediately, because of the fog, which seemed to carry the sound awfully well. First Pam moaned throatily, then she gasped, "Oh Gary, give it to me hard. Come on, stud… make me come, baby. Harder, harder, oh yes, yeah!!!"