J. Watson: Sister's Rape Lesson

“How could you?” Tracy asked. “How could you do that to that awful man? It’s disgusting.”

Maggie’s face got hard.

“It’s not that disgusting,” Maggie said. “Actually he tasted pretty good!”

Tracy stared at her sis in disbelief. Then she put her hands over her face again. Her entire body racked with her sobs. Maggie had always been the good sister. Maggie had been the cheerleading sweetheart, the girl voted most likely to get someplace in the world.

How could she do something like that?

Maggie waited until Tracy had cried herself out. Maggie knew what Tracy was feeling. Maggie had felt it herself when she had first come to the city. She’d been smart and pretty and full of ambition.

The problem was that the city was full of smart, pretty girls with ambition. A girl had to work hard to get anywhere. Maggie got tired of the many interviews where all the man wanted was a little pussy.

Finally her money and her patience had worn out. There was only one way to get a really good-paying job in that city. That was the beginning of her career. She decided that the next man who asked would get what he wanted. Maggie had won her job on the office couch of Gary Hudson.

He had finished with her, given her a pat on her well-rounded ass, and told her to report in the morning. It had been as simple as that. She had clawed and fucked her way up to the highest-paid worker in the office. It was rumored that before long, with her brains and her body, she would be offered an administrative job.

“It’s all right, Tracy,” Maggie said soothingly.

“It’s not all right,” Tracy said. “It’s horrible. I’ve been propositioned today and then I come home and find you… Oh, it’s so horrible, Maggie.”

Maggie opened her arms and allowed her sister to place her wet face against her shoulder. She patted Tracy’s back as Tracy’s tear gates opened again.

“Cry it all out, baby,” Maggie said. “Then we’ll talk.”

It seemed like a long time before Tracy could gain control of herself again. Her cheeks were streaked with her tears as she finally managed to quit sobbing. She pushed herself away from her sister.

“How could you?” Tracy asked again.

“Let me fix you a drink,” Maggie said.

Tracy didn’t speak as she watched her sister cross to the bar and mix the drink. Tracy wondered that she had never noticed the bouncy way her sister had started walking. Like a whore showing off her merchandise. A jiggle of her full buttocks.

Tracy took the drink and sipped it thankfully. She wanted the sweet sensation that she’d felt the night before. She wanted to forget all that had happened that day.

“So Gary tried to make you,” Maggie said.

“Yes,” Tracy said.

“What did you do?” Maggie asked.

“What do you think?” Tracy asked. “I told him he could keep his filthy job.”

“I don’t think you should have done that,” Maggie said.

“Why not?” Tracy asked. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“We’re all that kind of girl,” Maggie laughed. “It just takes some of us longer to find out.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying these things,” Tracy said. “You were always a good girl. Maggie.”

“I still am,” Maggie said casually. “You should ask some of my boyfriends. I’m a very good girl.”

“Oh Maggie,” Tracy said.

“Listen, Tracy,” Maggie said. “I know you’re upset now. But you’re going to have to grow up and start thinking straight. We’re not back in hickville now. We’re in the big city and you’re going to have to get with it.”

“No, I’m not,” Tracy said firmly. “Tomorrow I’m going home and I want you to come with me.”

“Me?” Maggie questioned incredulously.

“Yes,” Tracy said. “I know you’re not this kind of girl. You need to get home and get your thinking straightened out. Nobody would ever have to know why…”

“You’re nuts,” Maggie said. “You’re out of your tree. Go home? Why on earth would I want to go home? I’m having a great time.”

“But this is not you, Maggie,” Tracy protested.

“It’s not,” Maggie said. “I suppose you’d have me with a husband and half a dozen kids hanging onto me.”

“Yes,” Tracy said. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Well it might be all you want but it’s sure not all I want,” Maggie said. “You think about it. I have handsome men escorting me everywhere and I have lots of money. I’m a very lucky girl and you could be also.”

“But Maggie—” Tracy said.

Maggie placed her fingers over Tracy’s lips.

“You just think about it,” Maggie said. “You think about that hick town where nothing ever happens. You think about those screaming brats and dirty dishes. Think about it for tonight and tomorrow we’ll talk again.”

“I’m going home tomorrow,” Tracy said.

“Okay,” Maggie shrugged. “If it’s really what you want. But you think about it tonight.”

Tracy thought about it. She spent a sleepless night thinking about it. She really didn’t want to go home. The more she thought the less appealing going home sounded. She could already see her parents’ “I told you so” looks, and hear the disapproval of their voices.

Besides, it wouldn’t be fair running out on Maggie. Maggie was sick. Tracy knew she was because no woman in her right mind would behave like Maggie had behaved. Maggie was sick and she needed help and Tracy was the only one who could give it to her.

Tracy decided she would stay for just those reasons.

She told Maggie at the breakfast table.

“To help me!” Maggie laughed. “Oh my God, that’s a good one! To help me! Well if that’s what you want then you’re welcome.”

“Today I get a job,” Tracy declared. “I’ll get it myself.”

“You should go back and see Gary,” Maggie said. “Beg him to reconsider.”

“Never,” Tracy said firmly.

“If you don’t,” Maggie warned, “you’ll never find a good job in this town.”

“Yes I will,” Tracy said.

Tracy was wrong. She searched all that morning and met with the same leering grins and the same kind of propositions that Gary Hudson had made her. She finally had to lower her sights from a good secretarial position.

Her last interview that morning way for a position as a salesperson at a department store. The manager was a fat, ugly man who smoked cigars.

“I think we can use you, Miss Dixon,” the manager said.

She went to work at the candy counter that afternoon. It was hard work. The store was hot and the people were always in a hurry. She ran her legs off until four o’clock when the manager called her back into his office.

“You do good work,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I think we can find something better for you,” he said.

The fat manager stood up and walked around his desk. He put one puffy hand on her knee. He fondled her knee intimately and a leering smile came across his face.

“Now what kind of position do you think you’re suited for, Miss Dixon?” he asked.

“Not what you have in mind,” she said.

She slapped his hand off her knee and walked out in a huffy storm. She didn’t bother to pick up her one day’s pay check. It wouldn’t have amounted to enough to take home.

She was tired and angry but she tried to put on a good face. She was supposed to stop by and see Maggie before she went back to the apartment. She had hoped to give Maggie good news about her new job. Now all she could give were a few weak excuses.

Maggie was in her office when Tracy arrived. Maggie’s official title was private secretary to Henry Parker. Henry Parker was out of town and Maggie had very little to do. She was bent over some papers another secretary had typed when Tracy entered.