Jackson Robard - Present for teacher

Miriam Dodge's Saturday had been one of the most miserable she could ever remember. Now, alone in her house, she had spent the time since she'd awakened at noon by weeping silently. The painful and disgusting recollections of her depraved ravishment by those three sadistic boys last night kept sweeping over her tormented mind, their vivid images flashing over and over in torturing repetition.

She wrapped her thin, pale-blue nightgown tighter around her body, hugging herself with her arms as if bitterly cold. Her whole naked form beneath the flimsy, semi-transparent gown shivered in the throes of convulsive tremors as she tried desperately to shake the lewd memories which filled every inch of her heart and head. She knew that she should be overwhelmed with remorse and repugnance, but she was not – and that was the most horrible part of all, frightening her more than all else combined. For her returning nightmares were not so much of the vicious horrors that had been done to her on the smelly mat in the storage room, but rather of her own indefensible submission and lewd performance…

Her obscene rutting with those three nakedly abandoned aged fourteen boys, egging them on and demanding more of their virile young penises hard in her belly and mouth… her cumming, cumming, continual cumming… her awakening to find herself splayed nude and soaking wet where she'd been heartlessly discarded when they'd taken their fill of her… God, her body had been a mass of bruises that had centered around her breasts and inner thighs. Her flesh had been rubbed so raw that this morning she'd been too sore to dress, and even the soft nylon gown pressing against her skin was enough to send sharp waves of pain shooting through her body. She had dazedly gathered her clothes and slipped them on despite her agony at their touch, and managed to clean herself up before leaving the room and stumbling back to the cafeteria. The dance was about over and Harlow Cartwright had been searching for her. He had grudgingly accepted her excuse of having suddenly fallen ill "with the flu", though one good glimpse at the heavy lines marring her preciously fresh skin had been enough for him to raise an eyebrow of suspicion. But she had remained silent, never hinting to the principal or his ugly wife what had actually taken place.

And, she promised herself as she sat now in the chair, the appalling truth would remain locked in the confines of her soul forever. To expose the whole sordid affair could only add to her troubles, the publicity of the lurid details opening the door to full disclosure of all her previous sexual perversions. No, she was emotionally ruined for life, but at least she still had a chance to run… run again, as she always had when uncovered for what she was.

Before this day was through, she vowed, she would find the inner strength to dress and pack her suitcase. She would drive out of Logansville and never, ever return. She would compose a letter of resignation and mail it on Monday from some far-off place, the sacrifice of the money owed her worth the pain of another moment in this hellish town.

Her only dread was that Roger Trenton would show up for their day-time date before she had time to pull herself together. There could be no good-byes with him, for although she had come to realize that she truly loved the older man, she had to hide the sickening facts from him more than from anybody else. It wouldn't be fair to make him or his lovely son Mark suffer for what was essentially her own doing, her own miserable failings. God, she had to get started… but somehow, she couldn't seem to find the will to lift herself out of the chair.

There was no more question whether she could trust herself or not. It was obvious that she couldn't stop herself from following her perverted desires once the evil urges beckoned.

No pledge or promise had been able to endure for longer than a few short minutes when faced with lewd temptation. God, what would happen to her later on? At this rate, what would be her end?

A thundering racket snapped Miriam from her tortured thoughts. She realized after a shocked moment that someone was banging his fist violently against her front door.

"What…? Who's there?" she called out fearfully.

"Open up, Miriam!"

"Oh!" Miriam gasped as she recognized the voice of Roger Trenton. Roger! He was already here! And he sounded so angry! God, had young Mark confessed to him? Had he seen something was wrong and pried the horrid truth out of the boy? She stood beside her chair, afraid to open the door.

"You want all the neighbors to hear what I've got to say to you, Miriam?" came a ferocious yell. "Open this Goddamned door before I break it in!"

She unlatched the door against her will, afraid of what he might do or say if she didn't. "What do you want?" she asked hesitantly, opening the door a crack… and then she was roughly thrown back against the wall as Roger burst his way inside.

"Shut up," the furiously glowering man sneered at her. She could see he'd been drinking again, his face all reddened from his heavy dose of alcohol. "All right, son," he called over his shoulder. "Come on in and bring Buck with you."

"Oh no!" The blood drained from the tormented woman's face as she saw young Mark Trenton and the giant German Shepherd walk into her livingroom and stand beside Roger. If there had been any question, the slightest doubt why Roger was here, the sight of the boy and his dog vanished it from her mind. "Oh God, no," she moaned again, looking back up into the savage face of the man she loved. But Roger was no longer that sympathetic, compassionate lover. He was a stranger now, his features cruelly twisted into lines of ruthlessness, mirroring his desire for revenge and punishment. He knew… he knew what she had done!

"Roger, darling… please listen to me," she whimpered up at him, her words sounding pathetic and useless even to her own ears, "Let me explain, please…"

He walked over to where she stood almost naked, and stared down at her with hard, contemptuous hatred in his eyes. He did not speak, only a silent, rage-filled expression lining his anger-contorted lips.

Miriam quivered in her fear and shame. "Say something, Roger, say something," she prayed to him in desperation. She didn't know him now at all, and her humiliation was replaced by the fear that he was going to kill her. She almost wished he would.

"You fucking, kid-sucking bitch!" He spat the words so harsh and cruel that she winced beneath their impact. He leaned over and grasped her thinly clad shoulders hard in his hands, digging his fingers deep into the softness of her cringing flesh. "How many other little boys have fucked you since we've met?" he rasped. "Your whole English class? The whole Goddamn Freshman football squad? Mother!"

He closed his hands tightly around her throat and pulled her mouth harshly to him. But the sudden movement and the savage pressure of his hands on her throat caused her to jerk her face away.

"You bitch," he snapped. "I didn't hear that you were squirming away from Mark!" He slapped her hard, flat across the cheeks, jerking her head to the side so hard she thought certainly he had broken her neck. She tried to twist away from his madness, but he only slapped her again, this time across her other cheek.

"Roger! Roger! You're killing me! You're killing me!"

"Not that way, I won't," he laughed cruelly down at her. "I have a better way of making you wish you had never been born! Take off your nightgown, Mother dear… or should I call you my wife? Yeah… take off that nightie, wife and get bare-ass naked!"

"Please, Roger," she sobbed mournfully. "Please don't make me. Not like this in front of Mark!"

"Why, you slut! He's seen you naked more times than I have. And he's fucked you, remember? I'm the one who hasn't had that pleasure before! Now, strip, I said!" he snarled viciously, and suddenly gripped the front of her loosely tied gown. He gave the thin material a twisting wrench, and her nearly transparent flimsy gown was open down the entire front of her body.