Chapter 7: Psychiatric Opportunity

Kathy McAllen was 18 years old, a freshman at James County Junior College. Her big break came when she was in eighth grade and they let her skip from eighth grade to tenth grade.

As far as looks go, Kathy was almost average. Her hair was shorter, barely touching her shoulders. Brown and plain, split in the middle. She was barely 5’6” tall, weighed about 140 pounds. Most of the boys would tell you that was mostly in her hips and her boobs. Kathy had these 36C breasts with these big areoles and nipples. Being barely eighteen, Kathy’s boobs still pointed out more than down, that was for sure. She had these hips that could really move when she walked down the halls. But she dressed very, very conservatively. Plain skirts, knee length. Blouse and vest. A scholar with big boobs, that was Kathy McAllen.

Howard Scheppe was, to put it bluntly, a certified nut case. His parents had abandoned him, so he was an orphan of the state. Howard was twenty-eight years old now, but his mind was like he was 92. His priorities changed in an instant. Many things didn’t make sense to do, but he did them anyway. He was to be a mentally ill state resident for life it seemed. Howard was good at one thing: fooling people.

Howard spent a lot of time building up a trust with the residents. He was one day able to leave his window unlocked for “some fresh air”. The resident had agreed; he’d been a good patient. As soon as she was gone, Howard opened the window more, climbed out, slid it back up to where it had been, then jumped to the ground below. In minutes he was across the field and into the woods.

In Howard’s little world, sleep time was usually his jacking off time. This time he was running through the woods, but his mind kept coming back to jerking off time. He saw a light ahead, a store of some kind.

Kathy was driving her mother’s minivan home from her late band class. She decided to stop on the way at QuickTime for some ice cream. She pulled into the parking lot, into a spot at the end. She got out, walked quickly up to the store.

Howard watched the girl walk up the sidewalk. Holy shit, look at that ass move! Jerking off time came into mind again. He thought a moment, then went up and quietly got in the minivan on the right side, using the big door. He scrunched down behind the driver’s seat, found a Phillips head screwdriver on the floor. He waited. His mind went from one thing to another, always getting distracted. What if ... What if...

Suddenly the door opened and the girl got in. She closed the door, started the car and put her seatbelt on. She put the car in reverse and carefully backed out. The dark interior at night hid any sign of unmoving Howard. As she started to drive away, he felt her pull out on the main road and start accelerating. He jumped up and put the screwdriver to her neck. With his left hand he grabbed her hair. “Just keep driving!” he yelled at her.

Kathy jumped out of her socks when the man jumped up beside her, putting that thing to her neck. He kept saying, “Keep driving, keep driving, pull in there; over there.” He made her turn into a small strip mall parking lot. Some stores were closed, some open. He made her park just away from the other cars. He made her turn off the headlights and the car. He took the keys, threw tem to the floor.

Howard pushed her seat belt release. He dragged her into the back, onto the middle seat. He shoved her down on her back and held her there. He said to her, “Listen up! We gonna play a game. See, it’s jerking off time, but tonight you get to do the jerking off for me. Got it!? You don’t, I’ll start poking holes in you with this thing!” He snarled hard at the girl, playing his favorite mobster role. He kept the screwdriver tip pressed to her neck, always keeping pressure on it. He spoke again to her, closely. “You gonna play the game, or do I gotta start sticking you?” He pressed even harder. She reluctantly agreed to, voice trembling and crying, of course.

The man began pulling his shirt up, then he pulled his pants down. He didn’t have anything on underneath. Kathy could feel his penis, everything touching her as he moved on top of her. He started by pressing his mouth to her lips, forcing his tongue between her teeth with braces. Her own tongue took the full assault from his tongue as he lay there kissing her. She was beyond scared, beyond terrified. Who was this man? An older white man, now naked and on top of her, making out with her. He held her face so she couldn’t turn away from him. Then he paused, told her to take off her skirt. He kissed her again, then said, “You don’t, I will. And I won’t be nice about it.” He went back to kissing her. Slowly, she unzipped her skirt and slid it down to her ankles. He leaned up; “Now the vest and the rest, honey girl,” he said, all romantic-like. He went back to kissing her, sitting himself up some so she could remove her vest, then her blouse. He told her to keep going. Kathy, hands shaking, sobbing, “please, don’t, don’t...” over and over. She slowly slid her panties down to her skirt, then slowly she undid her bra. The man grabbed it, yanked it off of her. He went crazy on top of her. His mouth was everywhere. He sucked on her mouth, her neck, licked her neck, moved down her front to her breasts with that wet tongue. All over each one, he licked and sucked her breasts. His hands kept running up and down her sides, touching her boobs, sliding to her hairy little vagina, then along her upper thigh. He was all over her, despite her attempts to stop him. Then one time she fought too hard and he had jabbed her hard with the screwdriver, actually poking into her shoulder. After that, as she held her hand over it to stop the bleeding, she more or less just let him have his way with her. She thought, just let him finish, run away, then pretend like it never happened. Drive home.