. 03

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.

In fact, nowhere in Part 6 is there any explicit sexual activity. (This should surprise no one who has read Part 5.)

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

Friday morning the alarm dragged me out from a deep sleep. It seemed to take a long time, but then I hurried for the bathroom. When I got back, Ellen was in her robe and ready to go off, with running clothes in hand. I got dressed while she was in the bathroom, then went back in and shaved after she emerged. That part was much simpler when we could shave and get dressed in the same rooms. One more thing to look forward to in half a year—not really all that important, though.

We got to the gym a little before they actually unlocked the doors. It was cold enough out that this was not a good thing, but it wasn't long enough to be a big problem. We ran, separately but together, for a reasonably normal amount of time. I tried to push my speed a little more than I had been with Kelly—but then again, I'd probably lost some while we were with Ellen's family. We spent time with weights, too.

Even so, we got home and got our showers before my parents put in an appearance. I considered, checked for ingredients, and went with a cinnamon coffee cake. I did check Mom's cookbook for recipes, just to verify that I wasn't forgetting anything, and for proportions. This wasn't something I had made often enough to remember all the details for sure. Ellen made coffee while I did that. With all the beating, it was kind of a labor-intensive, and then it took a while to bake. Ellen and I just sat while it was in the oven. I used a cake pan rather than bothering with a bundt pan.

Mom and Dad appeared, looking sleepy and tousled, shortly before the coffee cake came out. Well, there had been a few sounds from the direction of their room, a while earlier. Anyway, when I served the coffeecake, I said, "Mom, this took most of your sour cream. If you had it on hand for something specific, I need to go get you more."

She went into the fridge and looked. "There's enough left, I think, but I'm glad you mentioned it. I'll get some more." Then, when she had taken a few bites, she said, "Phil, this is really good. I didn't know you were up to something like this."

Ellen looked really surprised. "Mrs. Morris, I was taken aback to find out how well Phil cooks. Way, way better than I can. He's giving me lessons, and a friend too. For this he used your cookbook, but I think he changed the amounts some." I nodded and shrugged. "But I've seen him produce really, really delicious dinners from scratch, quickly, without referring to anything, lots of times. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to cook for us because he won't have time, and I've got to learn better before then."

I said, "I didn't have any occasion to cook when you were home, but from very early, Grandmom made me help her in the kitchen, most days. She told me what to do, but she showed me the recipes and said why things were the way they were, and why she made changes. I'm no gourmet, but I got used to really good food, and I did learn from her. I forgot a lot in four years, though."

"You're a good cook, Julie, but you know Mom was outstanding," Dad said. "I think she was too busy with kids to try to teach us much, the boys anyway. But if she really taught Phil, he's lucky. Most guys fresh out of high school just go for survival—or dorm food, which sometimes is good and sometimes is just survival food."

I said, "I had four years of dorm food without once having to cook anything, not even to boil water for tea. Chem lab was about the closest I got to cooking. And the food at school was really pretty good, but for the most part I like cooking, and I think I'm pretty good."

Ellen put in, "I wish having Phil teach me didn't take as much of his time as just doing himself would, or more. With taekwondo and some other things, he's shorter on study time than I am, and that's going to get worse. So he studies while I cook, but I have to interrupt him for help or advice, way too often. On the other hand, there are a few things I can make about as well as he can, so I can cook sometimes now as well as trying to learn. Over the rest of the year, that will help a lot."

Dad said, "Why are you doing taekwondo?"

I looked at Ellen, and decided to bend the truth a little. "Something happened at school, which we'll be telling you about, about three weeks after the last thing we told you about last night. Though it was a couple of weeks more before it became public knowledge. Someone attacked one of the staff members with a knife, and the man defended himself with some kind of martial arts throw. Ellen has it in her head that I may need to be able to defend myself against a serious attack of some kind, someday, and she's afraid of it, enough that I agreed to learn something like that. A friend introduced me to a student martial arts club, and people's recommendations for what I wanted—self-defense, not exhibition stuff—were either karate or taekwondo,"

Ellen said, "And you've been slacking off on practicing your moves, while we've been gone. Later today, you do them!"

Everyone was pretty much fed, but Ellen served more coffee cake, and more coffee, and made tea for me. We just sat at the kitchen table, talking.

"There's a lot of background to tell you, and something really big in every way, and really bad, happened the next night, fairly late. I found out about it the day after that, Monday, so let me tell about finding out and then what had happened.

"That Monday, it was raining, and the running course was wet. There were many forfeits as a result, people not being quite careful enough and interfering with others by slipping and running into them. But I was paired with a girl who was a lot slower than I was, and I managed to catch her with no trouble, and we moved off the course."

I described my encounter with Maggie, her description of what had happened to her, and her feelings and fears. I named Wagner and Bruja, describing how Bruja had also wound up being raped by all those guys—and what Bruja had said when Maggie untied her. Early on, I decided it was stupid to hide Maggie's name, when our whole class knew the whole situation, and things went faster and clearer from that point.

"Anyway, I really, really understand what she was feeling. Nothing seemed to matter, she couldn't do anything that would make any difference, and she was afraid to tell anyone because of Wagner's threats," I said. "She hadn't meant to tell me, but when I pressed her it just poured out, because she was hurting so much. She felt dirty and worthless, like nothing really mattered."

I described how I'd felt it needed to be reported, and that I'd found a way to do so without attracting attention, before gym was over. "If nothing else, what about the next victim they chose?" I added. "Also, at this point years of resentment at Wagner and his buddies suddenly blossomed into real hatred. I didn't like that or approve of it—I still don't—and at that point I think it didn't make any difference, but there was a time later on that it did. But anyway, I felt I needed to be very careful, because I was afraid if I just went to talk to an instructor, Wagner and his friends would know what I did, and I was afraid they would understand why. I managed something that worked, though." I explained how we'd been called in, ostensibly for disciplinary reasons, and what had happened, and how I had escorted Maggie to the infirmary,

"So we had more time to talk. Out of all this, one thing that happened was that we became really good friends. She's an amazingly sweet and nice young woman. I said she's kind of meek and timid, and she is, but somewhere down in there she's strong and brave, it's just buried deep. This came out in all of what followed, which is where I'm going next."

Ellen put in, "Jenny used to constantly say, kind of in bemusement, that somehow all the girls Phil turned up were just so nice—mostly about the ones he had sex with during the game, of course. And she was right. Part of that was that he was often choosing among the forfeits, and he wasn't attracted much to girls who weren't really nice. But there's something beyond that, and Maggie is a good example. If he got thrown in with someone just by chance, she usually was sweet and nice. Way beyond anything reasonable."

"Well, you should know." I didn't say anything more right away, to give Mom and Dad a chance to ask questions. Mom was looking very thoughtful, but she didn't say anything at all. After a minute or two, I went on.

"The next thing to tell was a couple of weeks later," I said. I told them the basic facts about the capture of Wagner and his friends, his attack and death—and why I was there and why I was grounded.

"Anyway that's where my built-up anger and hatred toward Wagner made a difference. I'd like to think I would have gone out to fight seven guys single-handed, just to give Maggie a chance to get away, but I'm not sure I'd have been brave enough without that." I looked at Ellen. "I didn't think of it until a lot later, long after the trial, but the only reason I can think of for Wagner to have had a knife is that he planned to kill Maggie, that time. I guess it might just have made him feel like a tough guy, though.

"Nothing really of note happened until the trial, except two things," I told Mom and Dad. "First, of course, a lot of people tried to ask me what I knew, and I had to keep dealing with that. Second, nothing specific was said, but Wagner and his friends, and Bruja, were obviously somewhere else. And I had very mixed feelings about that, in Bruja's case." I reminded them of what I'd told them, what Maggie had said about Bruja, and went on to say what Bruja's subsequent behavior had shown.

"They also announced the charges, a couple of days later. Multiple counts of kidnapping, rape, attempted rape, and conspiracy for each of the boys, two counts of conspiracy for Bruja. They told us Wagner had died attacking someone with a knife, details to be provided at the trial.

"A week after the arrests, they held the trial. I was a witness, and going up to testify, in front of everyone, left me feeling very nervous. Anxious. I was amazed at how bravely Maggie took it, since she had to describe terrible things being done to her, besides the things that were getting to me.

"They had a couple of video cameras there at the arrests, so we got to see videos of it all. Since I knew what was coming, I watched closely as Wagner was thrown. I could see some, but it was still too fast to really follow.

"And Bruja was a major witness for the prosecution as well as a defendant. She made no effort whatsoever to deny wrongdoing or to minimize her part in it. She pled guilty to the charges against her."

I told of the sentences, including Bruja's, and the reasons given for hers being suspended.

I again waited. After a minute or so, Mom said, "It seems plain that you, at least, were convinced that her change of heart was real."

"I was, but there was more. And this is very important, to me and Sam and other friends of ours."

I described, at length, Sam's confession and her plea for forgiveness—and how I freely granted it, but then found I couldn't even bring myself to give her a hug, when she so badly needed comforting. I tried to express how much it had moved me.

"When we passed each other, over the next few days, she would give me kind of a shy, uncertain smile. Except, if we had time to talk for a minute and really make personal contact, that smile became brilliant and big. I think my doing that helped her believe I really meant it when I forgave her.

"But there was something very strange, that Ellen just mentioned earlier. For days and days after that, I was kind of a basket case. I couldn't focus on anything, and the whole world seemed out of focus to me. All my teachers made sharp comments about my work.

"Anyway, a few days later, they announced that sex ed would begin the following Monday, and they gave us an explanation of how it would work. I told you the basics. We were told to get our requests in for instructor and partner. And a couple of days on after that, Bruja and I met in her room to discuss issues."

I described our talk, stressing my difficulty in even just hugging her, and how I'd managed just a little bit longer by the end. I told them about our attempt to formally seal our conciliation with a kiss, and how stiff and unnatural and formal that had been on my part.

I looked at Ellen. "I don't think you know this. When Wilma and I reconciled and forgave each other, she also asked for the seal-it-with-a-kiss routine. And I didn't have any problems with it, that time. It feels like this should have felt the same, but it sure didn't. That may be important somehow."

I went on, to Mom and Dad, "The next Monday, sex ed week started. I met with my instructor, and then after lunch went where I had been told. And when my partner came in, she was Bruja—Samantha, I should say, since we were supposed to be on first names for the week. Even with my instructor, by the way. And there I had more reason to be ashamed, since I could not remember to say 'Samantha', unless I stopped ahead of time and planned carefully what I would say. Something in me just would not let me get even that close to her. But it was a big shock when she came in—somehow, I guess I'd expected almost anyone but her."

I hit only the high points in what followed, between Sam and me and then with our instructors. I tried to say how much that night had meant to me—how overjoyed we both were that I'd been able to let go of whatever bitterness had been holding me back. Then I told them about what I'd felt I had to say at the breakfast table.

"I'm not going to go into any more details about the activities in sex ed, as such. But outside of that, something really important happened. I'm sorry that it's so complicated to describe."

I described Sam's concern about eating with my friends, and what I told her. Then I described that lunch, what Jenny had said and done—and Claire and Barbara, still without giving their names. I tried to make clear how moved Samantha had been by this.

"One more thing from that lunch. Samantha and I both noticed that things didn't seem right between Jenny and her partner. I managed to grab a chance moment to talk to Jenny, and told her that we'd seen this and were concerned. I told her it wasn't my business, but that if she needed to talk to come to me. I said Samantha was completely with me on this, we would interrupt absolutely anything if she needed me to talk to her. And for what it's worth, Samantha was thrilled that I'd said that. Jenny said there wasn't anything I could do to help.

"Oh! One more big thing. Somewhere in there, maybe even the first night, I had called Samantha 'Sam' without meaning to or noticing. Comes in shortly." I described Jenny and her partner at supper, and how as soon as we were where we could talk, Samantha had asked me to call her Sam, explaining why she had hated it most of her life but now wanted me to use it. And then how, literally as Sam was saying how she wished there were something we could do for Jenny, she'd knocked on Sam's door, and her description of what was wrong—and just how despairing and frantic she had been.

"I said, well, it's against the rules, and this is Sam's room not mine I'm offering, but you can stay here tonight. I said, I don't know how these threesomes work—you remember, I told you about them—I said, and there's no way three people can fit in one of these beds. Dad, I told Mom about that. They were way narrower than twin beds. Fitting two people in one, for sleeping, was hard enough. You always disturbed each other with every little motion."

Dad nodded. "Like old army cots."

"I guess. I thought those were even narrower, but I don't really know. These were surely more stable than cots, though. Anyway, Jenny said, 'You'd let me do that?'"

I explained what I did, and finished explaining how Jenny had come to be my partner, along with Sam.

"And what about Jenny's partner, and his boyfriend and his partner?" Mom said. I explained about that, too.

"I still really resent him, especially since I eventually met a lesbian—very much in the closet even now—who was doing her best to do her part in every way. That week was really, really hard on her, and by the time I met her she was about as down as she could be, but she still wasn't complaining or asking for special treatment. I don't know, her partner might have been a fine choice for her if she'd been straight—I didn't really know him at all. Or her, until then. I was able to help her some, and I'm really proud of that, but that's one story we won't tell you.

"But anyway, those two guys could have done what they should at night, for one week, since they could perform with their instructors and their partners when they were on view. The young woman I just mentioned did that, hard as she found it—but she'd never been able to respond enough to enjoy it at all. She's someone really special to me. In case you hadn't figured that out." I was glad they didn't ask about how I'd helped her, though I wondered how much they'd guessed.

By this time it was past lunchtime—by Mom's normal schedule, anyway, and we needed hurry it, to go pick up the girls. We threw together sandwiches and ate, pretty quickly. Mom and Dad did find some questions to ask.

Dad said, "One thing you never really explained is why Sam was your partner. You said you had input into that, but neither of you would have requested the other, would you?"

Mom said, "Bob, use your head! Sam asked for him. I don't know enough to know why, but it's obvious she did."

Ellen said, "Let me, Phil. I'll tell it faster than you can." She looked at Mom and Dad. "I've heard them both explain this, and it's important enough about Phil and Sam both that we should have told it. Phil did, a little, but only the first bit.

"In a nutshell, Sam had realized she was in love with Phil. I think all her harassment—from pretty early on—had been an attempt to justify herself to herself, to make him react in a way that would let her say, 'See, he's just as bad as I am.' She couldn't help admiring him, but she wouldn't let herself admit it, and soon after sex started, with the game I mean, she once found herself imagining him making love to her—that's what caused all the noise that one time. And then things happened—the rapes were the very next day, and all that followed that. When she asked him to forgive her, and he did, that just took her feelings way higher."

After a moment, Mom said, "And whom did you request, Phil?"

Ellen beat me to it. "He put in a request for instructor, and I'm sure no one else requested her. But for partner, he didn't feel right about singling anyone out, and he just asked for someone attractive-looking and especially not fat. You need to understand, he really finds fat women a turn-off—for all that I've seen him enthusiastically make love to some, making it spectacularly good for them. And, well, you'll see Sam for yourselves, in a little while! 'Attractive and not fat' doesn't begin to do her justice.