Chapter 5

The horror of a long night of gang rape left her traumatized. For the rest of the weekend, the devastated girl didn’t leave her room except to go pee or throw up. She didn’t even wash off until Sunday night. Fresh from the shower, Tracy recoiled at the stench in her bedroom, and saturated the room with deodorizer. Crying with anguished fury, she yanked the soiled sheets and bedspread off the mattress and only half-made the bed with clean linens. It was the end of the school year, the last week, and she had two finals coming up.

Tracy had to force herself to go to school on Monday. Then she had to study, or at least try, for her English exam the next day. It was late in the evening before she realized her dad hadn’t come home. She checked his room just to make sure. They hadn’t spoken since that horrible night. The worried girl was afraid he was out drinking, or using dope. She still couldn’t believe her dad was smoking crack! Tuesday morning she checked his room again and left for school perplexed by his odd behavior.

She got home late that afternoon, upset by what she was certain would be a disappointing grade on her English exam. Preoccupied with thoughts of what her grade for the semester might be, she checked the answering machine. Her brow furrowed as she played it again. It was her dad’s boss. Two straight days of no show, no call, so he was fired. What?!? A flurry of questions ran through her mind. What did he mean, no show, no call? Her dad missed work these past two days? Why? Where was he?!? What was happening?!?

Tracy was hungry, so she cooked supper and sat down to eat. After doing the dishes, she needed to study for her last final, a history exam. That took the rest of the evening. Then a shower before bed. All the while, the questions kept popping up, the worry, the wondering. Every time she heard a noise, Doug’s fretful daughter went to check, sure that her father was finally getting home. But he never showed. She went to bed thatnight worried sick about him.

History was one of Tracy’s favorite subjects and came easily to her. On the way home, she felt good about the exam and confident of getting an A in history. She was halfway home before she remembered about her dad. Surely he would be coming home today. Maybe he went out and got drunk, and passed out with one of his drinking buddies. Maybe he cleared things up at work today. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she had begun to fear it was. Maybe...

Tracy breathed a sigh of relief that the light on the answering machine wasn’t blinking. She was in her room, changing from a skirt to her jeans, when the phone rang. Wearing only a shirt and panties, she ran to answer it. A nurse from Kennestone Hospital asked if she was related to a Douglas McConnell. With a tremor in her voice, the undressed teen told the woman she was his daughter. No, just her and her dad. She gasped in shock when the nurse explained. Her dad was hit by a car. The injuries weren’t too serious, but enough to keep him in the hospital for a couple of days. As immediate family, she could visit him this evening if she wanted.

Tracy hung up the phone in slow motion. Dad was hit by a car. What was he doing? Why wasn’t he at work? She was bewildered by his inexplicable behavior. It got worse from there. Another phone call. Her dad’s probation officer. Not the one she met with late last year. His “case,” as they called it, got transferred to another probation officer. He regretted to inform Tracy that her father was caught with crack cocaine. Blood tests at the hospital also showed he had used cocaine. He was in violation of his probation, which meant he would be arrested as soon as he was discharged from the hospital. She gasped in shock. How long would he be in jail? Until his hearing was scheduled in court. Three to five weeks. The 15-year-old girl was stunned as she hung up the phone. It was all falling apart.

As she prepared supper, a meal for one, the thoughts flowed rapidly through her mind. Dad must be strung out on crack. In addition to being an alcoholic. Now he would be spending the next few weeks in the county jail. Then go to court. She had no idea what the judge might do. After all that, Dad would be unemployed. And probably still be a drunk, even if he stayed away from the dope.

Tracy realized she wouldn’t be around for any of that. She was moving in with Aunt Delores on Monday. As she sat down to eat, the troubled young beauty began to find solace in the dramatic turn of events. She was done with school. Two more days, but no more exams, and then the ninth grade would be over. She hoped her grades for the semester would be good. With her dad gone, there would be no party this weekend, no more men hanging out here, drinking and smoking dope. She wouldn’t need to hide in fear of potential rapists.

Tears welled up at the reminder of the nightmarish assault she endured last weekend. Despite the pain from that night, emotional as well as physical, Tracy began to feel a sense of relief. It was settled. A couple days of peace and quiet, closing out the school year, then spend the weekend saying goodbye to a few friends. She was safe.

Tracy was ruffled by the time she got off the bus. It seemed like the boys treated the last day of school like it was their last chance to hit on girls. Good thing she wore jeans to school instead of a skirt. Some of the boys got real handsy as soon as class was out. The lovely young girl took a deep breath and crossed the street. The sight of the empty driveway was comforting. As she unlocked the front door, the thought came to mind, one last weekend until she moved.

She remembered to lock the front door, including the dead bolt, in case men came over expecting to party. A shudder went through her body. It was only one week ago. Tracy suddenly felt vulnerable. She went to the back door, then every window in the house, making sure everything that could be locked was locked tight. Then she relaxed a little. While she was cooking supper, a sudden knocking on the front door had her suddenly hyperventilating. The rattled teen tried to slow her breathing, and moved warily into the living room, where she peeked out of a window. Recognizing the men, two of her dad’s old drinking buddies ... neither of whom had raped her ... she opened the door and told them he wasn’t home. No party tonight. They left and she secured the door, took a deep breath, and ran back to the kitchen. Preparing dinner diverted her attention. Much to her relief, no one else came knocking.

It then occurred to Tracy she had the living room all to herself tonight. For the first time in a long time. The X-Files was one of her favorite shows and tonight she could watch it on the big TV instead of the smaller one in her room. Cool! A little more upbeat, she decided to take a bath first, then decided to make it a bubble bath. The night was turning into a bit of a celebration. School was out for the summer. She was safe from any drunks or dope fiends.

A bubble bath and the X-Files, a pleasant way to spend an evening. Stretched out in the sudsy water, the alluring woman-child luxuriated in the fragrant foam, caressing her shapely, well-toned legs with bubbles. Most of the painful stiffness from her ordeal last weekend had passed, although she was still sore where they penetrated. The hot water felt soothing. Tracy laid in the bath until the water had become lukewarm. Then she pulled the plug.

She pat dry with a towel. Skin still damp, she let her hair down and brushed the lustrous blonde tresses. Looking at a small clock on the shelf, she saw the time, almost 9:00. No time to get dressed or even finish drying off. She slipped on her pink bathrobe, tied it, and exited the bathroom. Her steps were upbeat. Feeling clean, peppy and free, Tracy entered the living room ... and stopped cold.

With a disbelieving gasp, She saw three black men entering her home. A man Tracy would never forget ... the big brute who last weekend took charge of the proceedings ... grinned at her as he brandished a key to the front door. With an abrupt squeak, the scantily-clad beauty turned to flee. He waved his hand at the other men. They gave chase. She shrieked in unbridled hysteria when she was grabbed by two black men. They easily overpowered her and returned their quarry, kicking and screaming, to the living room. At his command, they wrenched Tracy’s robe off and shoved her forward. She fell to her knees in front of the large black man, totally exposed and completely vulnerable.

Leering at the young, naked cutie, he unzipped and withdrew his penis. Thanks to the pleasurable prospects, it was already beginning to stiffen, rapidly swelling with blood and desire.

“Suck my dick, white bitch.”

She cowered before him, aghast, unable to speak. He grabbed a handful of blonde hair. Tracy yelped as the menacing black man yanked her up on her knees.

“Start sucking, you nasty little ho.”

She was too discombobulated to comply. He craned her neck back and jammed his now fully erect cock past her lips. Tracy gagged on a mouthful. The big man cupped a breast in his hand and squeezed the buoyant flesh hard enough to elicit a muffled cry of pain. Nostrils flaring with her rapid breaths, she leaned forward with a humiliating chomp, and placed her hands at his hips. He tightened his grip and raised his other hand, pulling her hair taut. With a groan of horrified disbelief, the defenseless young girl began giving him an awkward, sloppy blow job. The two men watching her had both fucked Tracy last weekend. Her smooth white skin was still damp from the bubble bath, which made her even more appealing. As they ogled those come-hither curves, and the blonde patch peeking out at the apex of her thighs, they were hot to plant their hard dicks somewhere inside this scrumptious little schoolgirl. Tracy was freaking out. She was going to be raped by three men! The door opened. With a muffled squeal, she tried to fall back, wanting very much to shield her nakedness from more lustful eyes. He would brook no interruption by the ho tending to his meat. He used Tracy’s hair to keep her in place. He used his cock to keep her mouth busy. Four men, two white and two black, were all eyes when they entered the house. The crack dealer tugged on her hair again, demonstrating his dominion over the girl sucking his dick. Four of his customers were suddenly thinking about more than just smoking some dope.

“It goes like this. So long as all you niggers are smoking my product, I’ll make sure this sweet little blonde bitch does whatever you want.”

Tracy’s freakout became boundless. She was going to be raped by a whole bunch of men! So terrified was she, the 15-year-old girl squealed, slurped, and slobbered on the long, thick cock she was being forced to suck. And she knew a roomful of druggies was lusting after her as they leered at her naked body. She wanted so badly to flee, to run screaming away from there, but the harsh, persistent yanks of Tracy’s hair kept her on task. A forbidding black brute was making sure she finished his blow job.