Chapter 5

I had no expectation of breaking Bob Jones that easily, so I started my routine of questions and pain. "Well, Bob, I hear that you have aspirations of becoming a pro in the NFL. What do you think your chances might be if I smashed up this knee?" I tapped his left knee with the bat as I asked the question.

"Oh, God, NO! Please don't do that! Without sound knees, I don't stand a chance with the NFL."

"OK, I see that I got you attention with that one. How about selling out one of you friends to save that knee? Give me a name, and I might not smash up the knee."

"No way. There's no way I would rat on my friends!"

That was the answer I expected, so I banged on his left knee hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to break any bones. "I can hit harder, you know? Give me a name or I will smash some bone."

"OK, OK, just watch where you swing that bat. Here's a name for you, Andy Johnson."

I happened to know Andy Johnson, and I would not believe that person could be unkind to anybody, much less a helpless girl. I grinned and struck that same knee again, but not hard enough to break it. "Come on, Bob, my friend. I can tell when you are lying. One more chance, and then I will get pissed!" I hit his knee again, but still not hard enough to break it. Jones didn't know how hard I was going to hit, so he let out a loud scream, somewhat out of proportion to the strength of the blow. I laughed at Jones and said, "OK, one last chance. GIVE ME A NAME!"

I must have shocked him with that last shout, because he said, "Henri Bouchard. Please let me go."

Bouchard was a basketball player who spent a lot of time on the bench. He was too mean to leave in the game for long. His antics once got the whole team in trouble and forced a forfeit of a game. It was easy to believe that Bouchard was a member of the rape ring. OK, his was the first name added to the list.

"Fine, Bob. Now give me some more names or I will be forced to get very rough with you. We don't have all night. I'm starting to get hungry, and I want my supper, so come through with more names and quit fucking around!"

Jones gave us a couple of more names, but then he dried up. It was obvious that he needed more persuasion, so I squeezed one of his balls hard enough to hurt rather badly. "Bob, I'm going to smash your balls unless you can convince me not to. So start talking."

"Fuck you. You haven't the guts to do that!"

"OK, you asked for it." I picked up a hammer and a small board that we had put into convenient reach. I held the board behind Jones' left testicle and in contact with it. A firm swing of the hammer caused the testicle to be squashed beyond hope of recovery. The scream of pain from Jones had to be heard to be believed. Hank turned a little green at this display—he never really believed that I would go through with it.

As soon as Jones could make himself talk through the pain, he began to spout names. Not a single one of the names surprised any of us, but the list of names was shorter than we had expected. Jones insisted that he had named everybody involved in the rape plot. Upon reflection, I was willing to believe that Jones just did not know every boy included. Almost all of the names were somehow related to sports, so it could be that Jones only knew those associated to sports. Our high school was large enough that it was probably impossible to know the name of every student, so I let him get away with that.

"OK, Bob, now is the time for your general punishment for raping those innocent women. I offered Eddy and Hank a chance to swing the bat, but both of them chickened out. I was not so tender hearted. I use the bat to break both of Bob Jones' legs above the knee and both of his arms above the elbow. He was completely helpless at this point, but I could not let him get by with so little punishment. I used my board and hammer to smash his other testicle. However, I was not through yet. I used a permanent ink Magic Marker to print in large letters "RAPIST" on his chest and back.

Without regard to the amount of pain we caused, we loaded Bob Jones back into the car, but sitting on the back seat this time. We drove him to the center of town and pushed him, naked, out of the car into the street and sped away. Hank dropped Eddy and me off at our homes, and went home himself. I wasn't sure how the other two guys felt, but I was very happy with the result of our little adventure.

The next morning, the local newspaper was full of discreetly censored photos of Bob Jones, calling him an "alleged" rapist. The newspaper reported that he was rushed to the hospital emergency room where they found his crushed balls and four broken limbs. Nothing could be done to save his testicles, but his four broken limbs should heal in a few months, but well after football season.

Apparently, that was enough to put the rape gang out of circulation. We must have scared the shit out of the rest of the rapists so that they went into hiding. Well, that was not good enough for us! It took several months to complete our list, but we treated every one of them on our list the same way as we had done to Bob Jones. All of the athletic teams were depleted to some extent by our efforts, but none of the rapists had been starting players. Does that tell you something? Anyway, a total of 37 juniors and seniors were affected by our little vendetta.

We three boys felt like we had really done some good and were really proud of our success. Of course, I was fulfilled at home, so I did not have any problems, but Hank and Eddy really reaped the rewards of our good deeds. Both of them were fully booked for Friday night for the rest of their school careers.

I was developing considerable stamina and control in the sex department. I had access to Amy every night except Friday, and that night was filled by another girl all the way through high school. Amy went to the local college after she graduated from high school, and she lived at home to save money. The result was that I already had a PhD in sex before I set foot in college.

When I graduated from high school, Dad sent me away to a major university to study business. Amy raised hell about being separated from me, so she changed her name to Sue Smith and joined me at the university. We rented an apartment and lived there as a couple. Other people were doing that, so we did not raise an eyebrow. It was my guess that over half the couples living in apartments off campus were not married, but they didn't bother us, so we didn't bother them.

We discussed staying together for the rest of our lives, and once we had settled on that, I started calling her Sue, even when we were alone. That way, I would not screw up when we were in public. Sue switched her major to accounting with plans to become a CPA. I still was not sure what type of business I would form, but whatever it was, I was going to need a bookkeeper, and Sue was in the ideal position for the job (pun intended).

Sue was her usual gregarious self and quickly had a gaggle of female friends. As women often do, this group talked among themselves about all kinds of subjects, but mainly sex, clothes, sex, food, and sex. Sue never told them that we were actually siblings, but she did like to brag about the great sex she was getting from me.

One of her friends was in the process of breaking up with her live-in boyfriend, and she was looking for a place to stay for about a week until she could line up another apartment. Apartments were hard to find at the time because school had already started and most places at reasonable prices were taken. After a lot of carrying on, Sue finally took pity on the girl and offered to let her stay with us for the week or so she needed to find her own place. Our sofa was the kind that opened up into a bed, so that she could sleep there for the time being.

Well, I wasn't too happy with this arrangement, but I went along with letting Angel in since she was Sue's friend. Sue and I never missed a night of sex, so Angel had the sound to listen to when we all finally went to bed. As I have said, Sue is noisy when it comes to sex, so Angel had plenty to hear.