Denise looked around at all of the happy faces and smiled because the party was going so well. It certainly took the stress off, as she was the one who made most of the arrangements for the large neighborhood gathering. Everyone seemed to love an Independence Day celebration and the party atmosphere spread through the entire neighborhood. Denise was over the top, as everyone came up and thanked her for the great party.

It seemed someone was constantly shoving a drink in her hand and it felt like the celebration would never end. One thing that no one expected or realized was the fact alcohol was readily available to not only the adults, but also to the numerous teenagers in attendance. Three of the cunning and more devious teens huddled together near a secluded area of the park, as they watched all the happenings going on in the central section.

"Do you have it ... the fucking shit to put in her drink," one teen whispered to his buddy.

"Fuckin' eh I do," the buddy replied, as he held up a full glass of spiked booze. 'Once she drinks even a little of this, she won't remember a fucking thing. She'll get so fucking horny that she'd fuck anything that moves."

The teenagers had planned and schemed for weeks. One of their dads was from a small country in Africa and he inadvertently provided his son with what he correctly revealed was more than a serious tranquillizer. He said it was called goat-weed and once the sedative was given to a woman, she got hornier than ever without even realizing what happened. The dad cited examples in his own village where young innocent women were taken advantage of after consuming a portion of the goat-weed.

Dave leaned closer to his buddy, Jeff. "So your dad says no woman can resist this African weed. Once they drink it, lust and desire takes over and they can't resist," he whispered.

"Yeah, but ... but what if she finds out?"

"Don't worry. After we fuck her brains out, what's she gonna say?"

"I hope you're right."

"Like I say, don't worry," Dave reassured his buddy. "I'll get her over to that bush area ... to where it is dark as hell and you just be ready with the goddamn drink."

Dave promptly left his buddies and headed towards the gorgeous hostess who had already consumed more alcohol than her slender 120 pound body could tolerate. Denise had trouble standing let alone walking, as the numerous drinks took a huge toll on her ability to think straight. She easily could be classified as drunk and her memory after a certain point was completely gone. The last thing Denise remembered was knowing she was intoxicated and realizing it was time to retire.

Denise was wobbly but she managed to find her way out of the main party area. She stumbled across the park and approached a darkened section near a bunch of bushes. "You did a marvellous job. It's a great party and we have you to thank," Dave said to the drunken hostess. "I know Jeff, Cory and I are just teenagers, but we wondered if you would have a drink with us ... sort of a toast to Independence Day."

Denise would have no memory of talking to the teenager or that she accepted a drink from him. The area was fairly secluded, but she seemed willing once Dave's two smiling friends appeared out of nowhere. Deni readily raised her glass when the teen toasted the occasion and she tried not to spill, as the drink sloshed around in the glass. She took a sip each time one of the teenagers offered a toast to the Independence Day celebration.

The teen's continued to make toasts and without realizing it Denise consumed a good portion of the spiked drink. When her knees started to buckle and her legs felt too wobbly to stand, she gladly accepted a helping hand from the infatuated teenager. "Please, let me give you a hand ... help you up to your condo and get you home," Dave whispered and smiled when he noticed her glassy eyes try to focus. "Here's to another Independence Day and may our country remain free."

Denise heard the toast and without thinking she followed the teenager's lead. It seemed natural to finish off the drink to bring an end to the festivities and she emptied her glass in a hurry. Dave wrapped his arm around her and one of his buddies took her glass, as all three tried to help and carry Denise across the park to the entrance to her condo building.

Denise was a zombie. She was virtually passed out or too sedated to even know what was happening or where she was going. Her mind remained totally blank when she was escorted up to her condo and she actually invited them inside much to the delight of the three horny teenagers.

Denise tried to open her eyes, but they just wouldn't open. Her brow was etched with lines of pain and agony, as her head hurt so bad she found it impossible to think. What happened, she wondered, and tried again to at least squint so she could see. She shrugged her shoulders and remained motionless because her entire body hurt when she moved just the tinniest bit.

It took another five minutes before Denise actually managed to open her eyes. She stared straight up at the ceiling and tried to think or at least remember something about what happened during the party. The last thing she remembered was standing with a bunch of friends who offered her drinks. She remembered feeling overly joyous because of the numerous compliments given to her and blamed her excessive drinking on a temporary lack of control.

Denise had no recollection of sipping on the sweet smelling refreshment handed to her by one of the teens at the gathering or did she even remember their names. Subconsciously she would recall how each mouthful tasted better and better yet her memory would remain a blank for most of the evening.

All of a sudden she leaped out of bed and ran as fast as she could to the bathroom. Luckily to seat was up on the toilet and she merely wrapped her arms around the bowl, as the heaving started. She couldn't remember the last time she threw up and it seemed to take forever before she felt good enough to lift her head out of the bowl.

Denise simply sat back on the floor and blinked her eyes a few times, trying to clear her head. Just as she thought she was steady enough to move, it hit again and she hugged the bowl for another few minutes. When she felt well and strong enough, Deni sat up again and wiped her forearm across her mouth to remove any lingering vomit.

Her legs felt extremely weak, but she found the strength to stand up. Deni slowly moved over to the sink and she received the biggest shock of her life. She stared into the big bathroom mirror and her heart literally stopped. Slowly her eyes moved up and down her body, as she studied the horrible scene.

Her hair was a complete mess with it tangled and sticking out, as if it had been days since she combed or brushed her hair. Her face looked strained and tired with dark bags under her normally bright and cheerful eyes. When she glanced down to her chest, her stomach heaved and she rushed back to the toilet for another bout of sickness.

Denise raised her head out of the bowl and glanced down at her chest. The detailed markings and evidence was still there and she cried. Tears rolled down her rosy cheeks, but luckily her stomach was empty so there was no more vomiting. Deni rolled back onto her butt and studied the dark red hickies all over her white velvety boobs. She lost count of the number, as the red blemished were all over, but there was something a lot worse adorning her chest.

Deni stood up and looked into the mirror again. "Suck My Titty" was written directly above her right boob and there was a black arrow pointing straight at her nipple. Etched above her other boob was, "Kiss My Nipple", and again it had an arrow pointing to her somewhat swollen bud that appeared hard and erect.

There were black and red ink marks all over her stomach, but they were insignificant compared to the marks on her lower extremities. The tears rolled down her cheeks and Deni cried out loud, as she stared at the obvious humiliation. Probably the most disturbing facet was the absence of any hair, as her entire pelvis and pussy area was completely shaven. She couldn't imagine someone taking the time to actually shave all of the hair and her heart started racing.

Again the black ink was everywhere. "Kiss My Lips" was scribbled along one thigh with an arrow pointing directly at her pussy and the tip was actually on her puffy labia. On the other thigh was, "Cock Goes Here." There was a crude picture of a big penis drawn on her newly shaved pelvis and the head aimed straight at the womanly target.

All of a sudden her heart stopped. Denise slowly put the palm of her hand on her tummy and then moved her fingers downward until they reached her crotch. She deliberately touched her overly swollen pussy-lips and then felt the immense wetness leaking out of her guts. Deni would never understand why she coated her fingers with the sticky residue and then slowly brought her hand up to her nose. She sniffed and then stared at the obvious moisture, knowing full well it was the leftover juices from a sexual encounter.

"No, no, dear gawd, this can't be happening to me," she cried. "How can there be semen ... please, no."

The shock slowly wore off and she stopped crying. Denise realized that she must have had sex with someone, but whom? She never consented or remembered anyone even asking her to have intercourse. Then it hit her! Dear Lord, what if? What if I get pregnant? Her heart skipped about three beats and then started racing like mad. "Oh no, who? What happened last night," she whispered.

The days that followed were sheer hell. Even though she washed all of the ink off, every time she looked in the mirror she saw the awful writing all over her body. Whenever she came into her condo building and met someone, she imagined his or her smile was one of guilt. Denise wanted to ask them if they were the one or if they knew who assaulted her, but she just couldn't work up enough courage to ask.

A week passed and then two. When she went to bed at night was the worst time, as she dreamt about being sexually molested. Every night Denise tried to remember. She would get to where many of her friends came up and congratulated her and offered her drinks to toast the holiday, but then nothing. The only person she actually remembered talking to for any length of time was one of her good friends, Fran.

On the Monday afternoon starting the third week, Denise decided to have a serious talk with Fran to see if the woman could shed some light on what happened. Fran was not shy and she explained in great detail how Deni went to a secluded area of the courtyard and seemed to celebrate excessively with three teenagers. The woman even described the teens as well as gave their names and Deni knew immediately who they were.

Dave, Jeff and Cory were teenagers who seemed like nice kids who were grateful not to be living in a ghetto. Dave and Jeff were black and Cory was Hispanic and Deni found the three nice and respectful whenever she met them around the complex. Her chat with Fran lasted an hour or so and she rushed back to her condo following the meeting to contemplate what she should do.

Denise vowed to find out the truth no matter what it was, but it took her a full day before she was brave enough to approach the teenagers. She caught Dave entering the common area of the building and walked up to the young man, trying to remain strong. "Dave, do you have a minute," she asked?

"Sure, I'm free for the rest of the afternoon," he replied, as his scheming mind thought of the best solution.

"Good, why don't we go into the small meeting room," she said and waved her hand towards a common room off to one side of the lobby.

Dave knew the woman was trying to get information out of him and he quickly decided to end her frustration. "I just have to drop this off at a friend's place," he said, as he waved some papers in front of Deni. "Then why don't you come up to my place? My parents are away for a couple of days so the place is nice and quiet."

The last thing in the world Denise wanted was to be alone with someone who might have sexual assaulted her. "Aaahhh, maybe we should talk in the meeting room ... a place that is not so private," she countered.

Dave decided to force the issue and take charge. "Heck, it's okay if you don't trust me ... don't want to come up to my place," he stated. "I would have told you everything ... everything about what happened!"

Denise knew exactly what the teenager meant and that he was fully responsible for the July 4th heartbreak. She watched the teen swiftly turn around and head towards the elevator. She was afraid he would disappear and she would never find out the truth. "Aaahhh, Dave, please ... okay, I'll meet you at your place. Ten minutes! I'll meet you in ten minutes."

Dave hurried up to his buddy's place and they made some fast decisions. He and Jeff called Cory and the three rushed to Dave's condo to get ready for a meeting with the sexiest woman they had ever met. Jeff produced some of his special sedative and the teenagers prepared for the upcoming encounter with Denise. When a knock sounded on the door, their hearts pounded, but not nearly as hard or fast as their guest's.

Deni knocked instead of using the doorbell because she wanted to be discrete. Dave opened the door and ushered her into the large living room, as he watched her hips sway seductively when she walked. The door slammed and her heart stopped. Denise stared at the two teenagers sitting on the big sofa and she desperately wanted to turn and run. She watched in complete silence when Dave picked up a tray of glasses and offered each person a drink.

Denise never thought twice, as she took a glass and immediately sipped on the sweet tasting refreshment. Oddly there was something very familiar about the sweet smell and taste of the drink, but she was too distraught to worry about it. The teen sort of gestured to a vacant easy chair off to one side and she swiftly sat down, wanting to stay far away from the teenagers.

The teen was well into his explanation before she understood what he was saying. "I wondered how long it would take ... take before you got curious about what happened in the park," Dave said and stared straight into her startled eyes.

Deni took another sip of her drink before replying. "Yeeeaaa, yes, I sort of had too much to drink during the celebrations. I don't normally drink that much."

"Well you were definitely drunk ... and horny," Dave said and grinned at her. "Christ, I've never met a woman who wanted it so badly."

The connotations were enormous and Deni had a hard time breathing, as she tried to understand what the teenager was telling her. She took more sips and suddenly her mind started spinning. Denise stared into the dark mysterious glass and watched the shiny liquid swirl around and around. She raised her head and looked straight at the teenager, as she realized that she had made another fatal mistake. "No ... no ... noooo."

"My love, stand up," Dave whispered, as he held out his hand to help Deni to her feet. "We have to get you ready for more ... more loving."

Her memory was fading fast and the last recollections were of her slowly getting to her feet. Then all of her clothes were stripped and carefully laid out on top of a nearby chair. Deni remembered standing as still as she could in case it was possible to make an escape, but then she was crudely spread out on the floor. She moaned, pleaded and begged for mercy, but it didn't stop a powerful black teenager from mounting her, as if she was the easiest slut around.

Denise opened one eye and stared up at the ceiling. She remained perfectly motionless for what seemed like an eternity because she knew it would mean the end of her life once she moved. Just as she opened her other eye, her stomach heaved and she scurried for the bathroom. Like weeks earlier, she hugged the toilet bowl for a long time and vomited until it wasn't possible to throw up anymore.

Deni was afraid to look into the mirror. She slowly got to her feet and approached the big mirror. Her breathing caught and her heart stopped just like it did after the July 4th disaster. There were new hickies on her tits and tummy and the short stubble that had grown over the past three weeks was cleanly shaven. This time the crudely drawn penis on her bare pelvis meant something, as the big black cock sent shivers all through her body.

"No, no, how can I be so stupid," she whispered, as she studied all of the ink markings. The words were clearly printed and all had little arrows pointing directly at the named body part. Tit and nipple were written on her chest; Pussy, cunt and enter-here were brazen drawn on her thighs and tummy. Deni turned around and she gasped at the sight of crudely drawn handprints on her ass cheeks. The thumbs were cleverly outlined so they pointed at the crack of her ass and implied that they were prying her cheeks apart, which sent a shiver up her spine.

Denise rushed out of the room and threw herself on the bed. "Again! How could I be so god damn stupid? They must have drugged me with some fucking African sex drug," she cried out loud, as tears ran down her cheeks. "They did it again ... raped me again."

Deni stayed in bed the entire day despite the awful feeling that she was going to vomit. She finally had to get up at six o'clock because she was hungry, but that meant a 30-minute shower before she was well enough or clean enough to withstand her pounding headache. Deni puttered through a simple meal and then she went back to bed.

Two months had passed and Denise was more upset now than she was when the first assault happened. She had confronted the teenagers who lived in her building, but that encounter had gone terribly bad. Deni wasn't sure what to do or how to face the facts. She had been sexually assaulted twice and although she was positive who was behind the clever deception, she wasn't sure how to solve the distressing problem.

Deni sort of wanted to report the incidents to the authorities and let them deal with the teenagers, but something prevented her from doing it. There was something about Dave's cockiness and daring self-assurance that told her he might have something over her. She decided to ask a few questions around the condo complex to see if anyone else knew what was going on and then she planned on working up the courage to approach Dave again.

She found out absolutely nothing from any of the people she asked, including Fran, as no one had any idea that any kind of assault or molestation had occurred in their safe and secure building. Denise pondered the traumatic ordeal, trying to find a good solution, but then one evening her safe and secure world came crashing down.

Deni arrived home from work and found an 8" x 11" envelop had been slipped under her door. She picked it up and immediately knew who it was from. Her heart fluttered and she tried to breathe, but had an extremely hard time catching her breath. Denise gasped and tried to imagine herself being in a sexual rage with three young, black teenagers, as she plopped down on her living room sofa.