. 06

Author's note:

This is, in all its seven parts and their many chapters, one very,

very

long story. If long stories bother you, I suggest you read something else.

No part of this story is written so as to stand on its own. I strongly suggest that you start with

the beginning of Part 1

and read sequentially—giving up at any point you choose, of course.

All sexual activity portrayed anywhere in this story involves only people at least eighteen years old.

This entire story is posted only on literotica.com. Any other public posting without my permission in writing is a violation of my copyright.

Monday was quite a different day, in many ways. I'll try to detail a lot of them, and some of them matter to what happened for the rest of the year and beyond.

It seemed to start reasonably normally. Outside, the sky was overcast as far as the eye could see, and it was very humid, suggesting rain that day. Very unpleasant, sweaty weather for running.

The history test was hard. We were all well prepared, and it was totally fair, except that there were too many questions. No one could write that many answers, not and do them well, much less stop to really think about them. Afterward, I decided that one thing Mr. Henley was testing was our ability to decide which questions to answer when we couldn't answer them all, and I didn't think I did very well. But my grade wasn't bad, when we got the tests back.

Our other classes went smoothly, until gym.

During the day, it had started raining. Not a hard rain, but a steady, gentle drizzle. The rain was warm, which did help to make it bearable being out in it, but that wasn't enough. Gentle as it was, the constant pelting of raindrops on me really bothered me, and from all around me I heard that I wasn't the only one. And the warmth and humidity had me constantly sweating.

Mr. Miles called us all together at the beginning for an announcement. "This week, we will be having this game four days, Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Next week we will not have it at all, but will pursue more usual activities, and then the following week, we will have it every weekday. Are there any questions about that?"

The question I had was, why? I could see that a lot of the boys were as mystified as I was. But without exception, all of the girls were nodding, and most of them were smiling or at least looking somewhat relieved. That was all the clue I needed, though it took a moment. I think most of the boys got it, too, though maybe not as quickly.

For reasons that by now should be obvious, every girl student in the entire school was taking oral contraceptives. This was an absolute rule, part of the contract, and willingness and ability to abide by it was an entrance requirement for every girl. And of course they had all had three full years to get the habit down pat. I thought that the same applied to all of the women on the staff as well, though I had deduced for myself that those beyond childbearing age were exempt. Much later, I learned that married staff women of childbearing age who were seeking to become pregnant were also exempt.

And the pills were prescribed in such a way that all of them had their periods at the same time.

This allowed the school to accommodate the schedule to the girls' menstrual cycles, when it mattered, without having to do so on an individual basis. And most, if not all, of the girls were certainly pleased not to have to deal with sex in gym class during that time, that much was very obvious. I wasn't so happy when I realized that my study schedule was going to be affected as well.

Not one boy asked Mr. Miles to explain. I thought that any who hadn't gotten it saw that they were in a small minority, and planned to ask their friends in private rather than look dumb in public. I would have.

And OK, one note here. We did study this stuff, and so I know that with the pills, the girls didn't really have a menstrual cycle, and their monthly periods weren't really menstruation. But they all used that terminology, and I'm going to use the terms the girls did, without belaboring the point further.

Anyway, we squelched over for partner selection. I was paired with Maggie Brown. She was fairly short, with a moderately nice figure though a bit dumpy, and with mousy brown hair. I was sure I could catch her, that she was in the lower half of the group. She didn't look at all happy, and I assumed I was the cause. I knew that she had been evading her pursuers at least most of the time, because she had been enthusiastically applying penalties to the automatic forfeits on Wednesday and Friday.

The whistles blew, and first the girls and then the boys took off. The footing was absolutely terrible. Not only was the grass wet, but there were small pools of standing water all over the course. Brown stuck to the inside rope, running carefully and not very fast. I wasn't quite as careful, though I was trying, and I slipped and almost fell once, but I caught up with her pretty soon. I took a firm hold on her arm. "Under the rope, Brown." We ducked under.

She said to me, with something like a sob in her voice, "You're one of them, aren't you?"

I was looking around. I'd almost always caught my partners on the outside of of the course, not the inside, and always farther along. I'd never noticed that about here, just a little farther down, were three or four patches of low shrubs of some kind. They weren't tall enough to block anyone's view of anyone standing up, but I thought they would provide a little privacy once we were sitting, and especially lying, down. I guided her down in among them, and then said, "Sit down, please." We both sat. Everything was unpleasantly wet, but then, we were soaked through. I could hear what sounded like lots of whistles and shouts up ahead along the course.

I said, "Whatever you meant by that, in a couple of minutes, we're going to have to get our clothes off and screw, to satisfy the rules. I really don't want to have you poking me up the ass, or worse yet, to be labeled as a forfeit. But, in the mean time, what on earth are you talking about? I don't know whether I'm one of 'them', because I don't know who 'they' are, but I see it's got you in some serious distress. So we can take a few minutes talking about it, I think."

She said, "I'm sorry, I got mixed up. You're not one of them. It's just that one of them said something about you, to me." My own confusion must have showed very clearly, because she went on quickly. "No, you don't know anything about it, but thinking you were one of them I was really scared for a moment.

"Last night, second period after supper, I came out here to run. I'm not very fast, you know that, but by luck all last week I had partners who were even slower. I didn't want to get caught and screwed, I knew it would hurt, but I knew I'd get someone faster sometime soon, and I've been trying to get better to postpone it as long as I can.

"Anyway, when I was down around the end, some boys jumped me from behind. I never saw them. One grabbed me, and another one stuck a bag over my head. I later found out it was a couple of pillowcases, one inside the other. I went to scream, and someone stuck his hand over my mouth, and then they tied a rope over the pillowcases around my mouth, so it all was a gag. If I didn't struggle, and as long as my nose was clear, I could breathe OK, but there wasn't enough air for any exertion. And I was crying, which made my nose run, and that was bad.

"They tied my hands behind my back, and stripped my shorts and underpants off. They just pulled my top up above my boobs, they didn't take them off. One of them said, 'Here it comes, bitch!' and shoved himself into my pussy. That hurt an awful lot, first when he popped my cherry, but it kept on hurting because he was so big and it was all dry. He told the others, 'Yep, she was a virgin, I was right.' And he told me, 'You should have gotten Morris to pop your cherry for you. He's supposed to be gentler about it,' and they all laughed. He kept going, and then he said to one of the others, 'You get going, we don't have all night,' and someone stuck his dick into my ass, too. And that hurt even worse.

"After the first one finished, he came out, and the next one took his place. At least I'd been stretched out some, and it was wet from him, so this wasn't so painful, but it was really awful." She was crying a little by now. In her place, I would have been bawling my eyes out.

"As the second one screwed me, a girl started talking to me, in a nasty tone of voice. 'You thought you were better than the rest of us, didn't you, keeping your cherry and being oh so careful so you wouldn't get your ass screwed too. All the rest of us could get screwed, but Miss High and Mighty didn't have to get her ass on the ground.' And on and on. I was pretty sure I knew who that was. I recognized the voice and the style. Anyway, they kept it up, front and back, until they'd all had a couple of turns—I guess, though I have to say something else in a minute—and then the very first one laid me back on the grass and untied the rope around the bag and stuck his dick in my face. 'Open your mouth, slut, and if you make a sound or bite me I'll slap your head off.' What could I do? I opened my mouth, and he fucked that too. He'd had his dick in my ass, or maybe the girl's, and I could taste that.

"And that's the other thing. The girl who was saying all that awful stuff, well in the end she got it too. While the first couple of batches were screwing me, I heard a one guy say to another, 'Hey, we don't have to wait for her. We've got this one.' They must have grabbed her, and I heard her inhale and start to scream, and one of them must have slapped her across the face, it seemed, it sounded like a gunshot and she cut right off. He told her, 'If I need to, I don't care if I knock your teeth down your throat, slut, you're no better than she is.' I found out later that they used another pillowcase to gag her, after they pulled all her clothes off. He told her, 'You won't tell anyone! This was your idea, to get back at her, and you helped us set it all up.' Apparently they treated her the same as me, front and back at the same time, and I think most of them kind of switched off between us.

"Finally, the first one came to me and said, 'I'm going to untie your hands. You give us a long time, count to two thousand at least, before you take that bag off. And don't you say a word to anyone about it, or we'll do a lot worse to you.' So I did like he said, and when I got the bag off and I could see, I saw what I already knew from her voice, the girl was Bruja. She was lying face down, no clothes at all, gagged, with her hands tied behind her, too. I couldn't leave her like that, could I?

"I untied her hands, and her gag. She wasn't crying, the way I had been, but she was pretty unhappy, and she had bruises already starting to develop on her face. She told me, 'I'm sorry. What they said to me was all true, I wanted them to get you, so you'd be like the rest of us, and somehow I just didn't think about how bad it would be. It was worse for you than for me, I know that. I'm not going to say a word to anyone about it on my own, but if you want to take the risk I will back you up completely, even though it will land me in big trouble too. I really am sorry, I knew it was wrong and I didn't care, and what can I ever do to make it up to you? Nothing at all, besides what I just said.' She was crying by the time she finished saying that.

"I know you must hate Bruja, she's always on your case and with no reason at all. I do want you to know that she was at least sorry this time for what she did. I believe her on that. You would if you'd seen her and heard her.

"Anyway, I got dressed and walked back. I felt so dirty, I must have stayed in the shower for an hour or more. I still feel dirty, even now. I know, I washed away any real evidence. I decided I wasn't going to take the risk of telling anyone. I'm kind of sorry I even told you."

I kept quiet for a minute, thinking. I was tempted just to head back and take her straight to Mr. Miles, but I was just a little afraid that I was being set up to get my own ass reamed out. I didn't think so, but I couldn't really be sure. I believed her story, though I planned to check out one thing, but even so, someone could be watching us, waiting for a chance to accuse me of not playing by the rules. And in any case, taking her straight to Mr. Miles could get her into trouble with her rapists.

"I'm afraid I'm still going to have to insist on screwing you," I said. "That's the rule. I know you must be incredibly sore, and I'll try to be as gentle as I can, but I'm afraid it will hurt."

"You can't possibly hurt me like they did. And you're right, this isn't your doing, you need to go ahead."

I pulled her clothes off her, again trying to be gentle, and then mine. I told her, "Under the circumstances, I want to look at some things on you. Can you kind of stick your ass out toward me? I promise nothing will go in it, period." She turned around and did so, and I parted her buttocks and looked. I wished I were knowledgeable enough to recognize any signs of her being attacked that way in the anus, but I didn't see anything obvious. I had been in a position to see some of the forfeits, and had seen that the anal sphincter didn't always recover instantly, but I couldn't see anything at that point.

"And now, lie down on your back. I want to look at your pussy—I mean, look for any obvious damage. And then I want to do more than look. After all that happened, well, you're not going to be looking forward to this. When I've been someone's first, I've usually licked her pussy for a while, trying to relax her and get her at least a little moist inside, and to add lubrication of my own around the outside. Of course it hurts when I break through, but I try to minimize any other pain after that. Speak up if you object, but I'd like to do that for you, if it's OK. To try to help me not hurt you. If it will feel like I'm forcing something else on you, I won't, if you tell me."

"Oh, go ahead. I'm sure it will help a little. At this point nothing matters, anyway."

"We'll need to do something about that, eventually, if we can, but I don't know what. I'm glad you told me, and I'll try to be careful. If something hurts, say so, I mean it, and I'll try to do it differently."

I put my head between her legs, and parted the labia for a look. With that kind of forcible rape, there probably were signs, but I was too ignorant to recognize them. I hoped I wouldn't mess things up even more. I began licking, just gently all around, not trying for anything much except lubrication. I told her, "I'm going to put a finger in, to try to spread moisture inside a little," and I did that. After a minute, I came away and positioned myself over her. She looked up at me and said, "That really felt good, not like making me want you or anything, but comforting somehow."

"In this case, it's probably better if you open yourself up and guide me in. And if I go in too fast, say so, please." She guided me in. I tried to keep my weight well supported and not bear down on her hard anywhere. She never moved with me, but lay there letting me screw her without complaint. In a few minutes I came, and I hoped I didn't hurt too much because I was reflexively thrusting in hard and kind of grinding at her. I pulled back as soon as I realized it, but I was afraid I was too late. When I was done, I came out and off of her, and I apologized for that.

"Why be sorry? You were really careful. You're right, I'm tender down there, but I'm not fragile, and you were busy, doing what you were supposed to."

As we got up and got dressed, I told her, "Well, you said you weren't going to tell anyone, but you told me. And I'm afraid I think it needs to be reported. I'm not talking about broadcasting it, though it's serious enough it may wind up that way. But I hope to be able to pass it on to Mr. Miles or someone else in authority. I'll do it in a way that I'm pretty sure no one will notice, and at that point you won't be involved at all. But I'm really sure that someone will need to ask you questions. They'll probably do it discreetly, making it look like something else, as a cover. I hope in the end you won't hate me for it."

"I'm really scared. But I guess I can't stop you, can I? So I may as well say one more thing. I didn't see anyone at all, except Bruja, but I've got ears. One of them was Wagner, and the others, some of them anyway, I could recognize his friends' voices. But I couldn't keep track of how many or of who did what, or anything. It would be their word against mine, even if I saw them, and they'd say I was wrong about recognizing voices."

"From what you said, I'd already figured that out. I won't pass that part along, but you really need to say it to whoever interviews you. Make clear what you just told me, they'll understand. But it will help them do whatever they do about it. I really hope you're the only one, but if someone doesn't do something, you won't be the last."

We walked back, not holding hands or anything like that at all. I didn't kiss or hug her, except holding her as we screwed. I knew this wasn't a case where sex had brought any closeness, on her end, and figured that any signs of affection at all would not be good for her. As we approached the gate, though, before we went under the rope to cross the course, she looked around to make sure no one could hear us, then took hold of my arm and faced me and looked up at me. "Morris, thank you for listening and taking me seriously," she said very low. "It wasn't very good for me, but it could easily have been awful instead, and I know it wasn't much good for you, either. Maybe when you screw someone else, one of the forfeits or one of your harem, think about me and remember that I wish I could have given you something better, OK?"

We were both so wet from the rain that I hadn't a clue as to whether she was crying. I didn't know what I could say that wouldn't make things worse. I finally said, "I don't know what I can say to you. Except, if I can help you any way at all, come and tell me. I'd welcome sex with you if you get to the point where you'd enjoy it, but that's not really what I mean. Do remember that, though, if you need help. Even if it's just walking in the rain talking it out or something." We went on through the gate and checked in.

I looked around at the forfeit area, which was pretty packed with people on the ground. "How many forfeits were there?" I asked the gatekeeper.

"I think it was fifty-three girls and forty-eight boys," she told me. "All that rain, people sliding into each other, especially when they tried to maneuver." I thanked her, said at least a cordial goodbye to Brown, and went on in. I saw that the penalty area was also full.

Again, I saw Ms. Miller moving down the line, followed by Barbara, so I knew at least that Barbara hadn't been caught and wasn't a forfeit. There was a good-sized waiting line after her. I kind of wandered around, not far from that, looking at various girls getting screwed. Around here, it seemed they'd already gotten it in the ass, and were either waiting for boys to show up for a turn or getting it. I found it all pretty arousing, the rain somehow heightening this. When Ms. Miller collected a boy waiting at the end of the line, I followed at a short distance, mostly watching the girls. It surely looked like more girls had escaped than been caught, besides the forfeits. I kept my eyes open for any especially tempting opportunities.

Ms. Miller found a spot back near the far end. There were a lot of bushes there, just outside the area, and I noticed idly that someone seemed to be working on the other side of them. I saw Moira somewhat further down, almost right up against the ropes by some of the bushes. I wondered whether she'd already gotten it or whether her partner was also forfeit. I could have gone and asked her, but I'd been instructed to keep away from her.