The girl tried to cover herself again, but the four of them pulled her shirt away and started over again on her.
She had accepted the offer of a lift from Frank because she knew him, he attended lectures in the History of Art class she was taking. When he started talking about the nudes in the art works they were looking at she started to feel uncomfortable. His two friends in the car just laughed in the back; she should have got out; or something; what? She thought about that over many days later and always came up with the same conclusion. Why shouldn’t she be able to trust someone who she had a passing acquaintance with in a lecture theatre? Why should she assume all men are rapists? But she had evidence now (usually she started to cry at that stage).
When had it dawned on her she was in danger? When Frank said he just had to take a little diversion? When that diversion was down Miller’s Road through the woods? When he pulled over at that house where his other friend – Rob – lived? She was left in the front seat of the car, in the front while Frank went to pick up whatever it was. Then they were back at her side, and the two in the back had her arms tight. She was dragged out, a hand over her mouth and she knew, she knew then what she had allowed to creep up on her.
They stripped her outer clothing off roughly, one of them said he really wanted to do her with her panties on. They all liked that idea and held her down first on her back, then on her front whilst they took it in turns to pull the cloth to one side and ram themselves in. She could smell their breath, the smell of frat boys and toothpaste and clean, clean laundry. And they were fucking her worse than a whore. She was separating herself from what was happening, wondering if she’d get out of this alive.
“Suck, this bitch” Frank said and pushed his shiny, wet cock at her mouth. She clamped her mouth shut, and had her tits slapped hard and painfully as she screamed for the first time, his smelly, semen coated cock shoved in. “You bite it and I’ll cut you, you hear? Bitch?” She looked at him, convinced that he was acting a hard man; maybe they’d done this before to defenceless girls, but he was no redneck, he was a middleclass wanker who would one day get what he deserved. She started sucking and licking as another penis was shoved deep into her sore womanhood. She suspected what would soon come up.
“Heh, slut, I bet you like anal too.” Turned over and forced to kneel against the sofa, she shrieked in pain as four fingers were roughly pushed in. That was the foreplay apparently, then a boy’s erection ripped in to her unlubricated anus and she felt the burning pain course through her. It couldn’t really have been that pleasant for the boy either; by this time her eyes were so teary from pain, humiliation and disgust that she couldn’t tell who it was. He didn’t even come, he just got his rocks off shaming her. “Hey, clean this!” he yelled and she had to lick his flaccid dick tasting slightly of shit.
They rested after that and she tried to cover herself. Her bra had long since been ripped away by hands desperate to squeeze and pinch her breasts; her panties had finally been torn off with a wrench by one of them too excited to take the trouble anymore to pull a leg aside to find her slit.
Even when they were all four exhausted, they wanted to continue the abuse and invasion of her. One of them turned his hairy arse to her and demanded she rim him, he only stopped when she physically started to retch in his arse crack. They pissed on her, though they never told her to piss while they watched. Maybe their imagination ran out.
Still they pulled her attempts at covering herself apart. They were tired and sore, but not as tired and sore as she was. Still they turned and decided to try a 3 way. She was forced to suck Frank whilst two of his friends invaded her vagina and anus. They weren’t really that keen to be that near another naked boy, but they put up with that. She moaned in pain and justifiable self-pity. She was crying uncontrollably and slowly her body went into meltdown, sobbing and screaming. They hit her to shut her up. Then wrapped her in a blanket, stuffed her in the boot and dropped her at her flat. It was dark, no-one saw. At least, she told herself, at least I’m alive.
She called the police, who came and took notes, and shamed her again, even suggesting she had enjoyed it. The female doctor at least was sympathetic. Letting her know that she wasn’t the first.
“You did right to call the police, they can’t keep ignoring these attacks. Surely if they have a lead, you said you knew one of them?”
“Yes, Frank Wisner, he’s in my class at school”
Light dawned on the doctor’s face “Wisner! That explains it; you know who the prosecutor is? Reginald Wisner. You know who the chief of police is? Tommy Vickers, married to Shana Vickers, who was Shana Wisner before.”
“So they’ll protect their own? That can’t be right. You KNOW what they did. They were animals, they were –”
“May I come in?” Reg Wisner was already in, he’d visibly taken a look at her exposed parts before the doctor and Marie as one covered her up
“You should knock Mr Wisner, I was examining the patient, AS YOU KNEW!”
“Ah, now Doc, she ain’t got anything I haven’t seen before. I just thought I’d call in to say there really isn’t enough evidence to charge anyone, sorry” And he left.
“He couldn’t give a shit”
“I’m afraid your right” the doctor agreed. “Would it help to meet some of the other victims?”
The doctor had an ulterior motive, she wasn’t just thinking it would help the victims talk out their ordeals.
The meetings started as normal self-help meetings do, but slowly the five found they were less content to simply recover, they wanted revenge. Their experiences coincided in several ways. The car seems to have always been the Jaguar, or at least a European car (some of the girls had no more idea than that). The scene of the crime was always in the woods. This was enough, they were convinced they were all attacked by the same four (once three, once two) people. The guy in the forest was most at risk; once they combined their stories they pinpointed the house precisely.
Rob Wisely, 22, living alone in the woods, he was something of a survivalist. He was tall, muscle-bound, actually quite handsome if he wasn’t a raping bastard. But he was strong. They were five, but they were five young women; he was a weight-lifting fitness freak. They had to plan with scrupulous care.
Working in pairs they started to watch the house, make notes of his comings and goings. He was creature of habit. They might have reached some kind of careful, workable plan but fate took over. Two of them were watching when the car pulled in.
“Oh my God! They’ve got another girl, call the police”
“Call the others! The police are dicks, we know that”
“But there are four of them”
“Call the others”
The other three came over, parking down the road and then ran to the hiding place.
“What do we do?”
“We have to do it ourselves”, the speaker produced a gun. Two others produced guns too; seemed they had started carrying weapons after their rapes. Another had mace, she’d had it even before the attack but hadn’t thought to use it.
They crept up to the house and looked in. The rape was already underway and it was all they could do to stop themselves bursting in. But instead...
The fire under the car took a while to take hold, then it caught and there was a roar and a bang as the tank exploded. Two of the boys rushed out, one, Frank, holding his pants up. “My GOD, My FUCKING GOD! WHAT THE F-” a bullet shattered his knee and he collapsed to the ground screaming. The other turned, saw the blood and ran back towards the house, and straight into a long, satisfying spray of mace. His eyes burnt, and then his balls did too as a kick felt like they’d been relocated in his stomach. The other two started towards the door and therefore didn’t see two more girls behind them, from the other side of the house, fire into their legs. This wasn’t about some quick, murderous revenge.
By the time they had those two tied up, and gagged to stop them screaming with agony, Frank was being forced back into the house, hobbling on one leg, the other leg dragged behind with its shattered kneecap. If he got out alive, he’d never walk properly on it again. The maced boy lay outside uttering low moans as the girl rained blows down on him and sprayed him periodically. She had found a shovel by the patio and was hitting him, sometimes with the flat, sometimes with the edge, slicing his body and face. The other four girls left her to it, they had realised she would lose it completely, after 10 minutes he wasn’t moving anymore, after another five minutes, two girls went out and gently brought her away from the bloody mass that was barely recognisable as a body.