Jack Victor - The professor_s rape games

"Guess what?"

"What?" Debrah said, smiling at the adorable child.

"I got raped. He came to the boathouse."

"Oh, no, you didn't!" Donna exclaimed. "You're just making it up."

"No, sir!" Susan said, shaking her head vigorously.

"You just want to get fucked so bad that you think it happened," Debrah said with disbelief.

"You come to the ladies' room and I'll show you!" the girl retorted.

Debrah and Donna looked at each other, and followed the little Susan to the ladies' room. There was no one in there, and they locked the door.

Susan showed them her blood-stained panties, with the larger stain of man come mixed with pussy juices. Debrah and Donna were pretty sure that she was telling the truth.

Debrah shivered.

"You mean he's right on this campus, stalking us!" she gasped, her voice an excited whisper.

"Oh, I can't wait," Donna exclaimed. "I want to be raped so bad."

She turned to little Susan.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Oh, no!" Susan gasped, her eyes glowing, her face flushed. "It was wonderful, and I came like I've never come before! It was different," she said, frowning a little.

"Yeah, I guess she got fucked," Debrah said.

The three of them walked arm in arm to their next class, which was history. Debrah passed a note to Molly at the other end of the room, telling the little girl about Susan's rape.

After the classes were over, Hill went to the faculty lounge to check on possible extra scheduling for the following day, and also to see if there were any messages for him.

The math professor came up to him.

"There's something afoot in this school," Don said, his eyes twinkling with interest and good humor.

"Oh?" Hill looked at him with interest.

"You mean you haven't sensed it? That undercurrent among our little girls?"

Hill laughed.

"Oh, yes, that little ripple of excitement among them? I have caught it. What's afoot, do you know?"

Don shook his head.

"Beats me. But I never heard so much buzzing, and I never saw girls go off into so many corners and confer so earnestly about something. I suspect that they're up to some mass prank."

"I don't think they'd pull something like that," Hill said, seriously. "A few of them might get together and do something wild, but not the whole junior high school, though a current of excitement seems to be epidemic among all of them."

"I wouldn't put it past them. They've been known to do it before."

Hill looked at Don with interest.

"About four years ago, before your time, of course, the whole junior high school got together. They stole a key to the main doors from the headmaster's office, and sneaked in here one Friday night. The little buggers worked until curfew and then came in again on Saturday. They totally re-arranged every single room.

"The chemistry lab wound up in the history room, the English room wound up in the library, and the library wound up in the chemistry room. The little bitches did it in two days.

"It took the school faculty a solid week to, get everything back in its proper place."

Hill laughed uproariously.

"So you think they have another plot like that going?"

"I can't think of any other reason for this suppressed excitement. They're positively feverish with it. I've alerted the headmaster. He's keeping his eye open, as well as the faculty. Do the same, will you, and if you he what they're up to, let us know."

"What will happen to them, if they're caught?" asked Hill.

"Well, whatever they plan, it won't be too bad. This isn't one of your congested urban schools. At best the ringleaders, if we ever lay our hands on them, will probably get a week's detention, however none of us wants to do overtime, so we'd rather forestall whatever is in their beady little bright minds, than pay for the good laugh we probably will get by working late into the night to correct it."

Hill knew there was no plot afoot for anything. He was aware that Molly, Sarah, Susan, and their little clique were spreading the rumor about the ideal way to get their cherries popped, and the girls were wistfully wandering off, willfully making themselves prey to the raging, lawless lust of his cock.

And all because of his own daughters, who were wishing ardently that the same fate would befall them!

Again his cock lurched to life. Even though he had just had one of his more satisfying rapes, he wanted more, wanted his own children. He went home to seek refuge in his wife's cunt.

He knew it would not be enough!

When Hill got home, there was a note on the kitchen table. His wife had gone shopping.

The note also reminded him that they had Molly Carpenter for a weekend guest.

Helen promised to be home as soon as possible.

Hill winced, and hiked at his pants. His constant, raging hard-on was getting on his nerves.

It seemed that even cherry-popping wasn't good enough. Nothing would do for Hill but to have his own daughters.

But how would they react to such a heinous act – a father taking his own daughters, deflowering them!

The thought appalled him, whereas his raping the three girls had not appalled him, at least not after he discovered the effects of his rape on Molly.

He had gone to the boat house after school, and folded up the cloak, and put it in his briefcase.

Restless, and driven by his insatiable cock, he left the house, taking his pipe with him, and walked into the woods. He circled the lake almost completely before looking at his watch, and determining to go back to the house.

The three girls wouldn't be at the house before five, since they were going to stop off at Molly's house for cookies and milk, and to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter before the couple left to visit Harold's brother.

He didn't want to go home to the empty house, and he was pretty sure that Helen wouldn't be home till much later. On the way he passed the Blake farm. On the edge of the property, near the lake, was a huge red barn, used to store hay and horses.

Hill walked along the back of the barn, and as he passed it, he heard loud voices coming from the barn itself.

Curious, he walked up behind it and peered through some of the weather-beaten boards of the walls, which had big gaps in them.

He saw a caucus of sorts, among several of the boys of the neighborhood.

There were Irving Cohen, John Brown, Susan's brother, Norman Sanders, who came from a family of eight boys, and Paul Lewis, Anita's brother.

They didn't look very happy.

Hill listened for awhile. The boys were being quiet for a moment, mulling over their thoughts.

"Well, listen," John said, "we must be doing something wrong."

"Yeah!" Norman responded. "We used to have to beat them away. Now none of them wants to have Cokes with us or even pizzas!"

"And there's a big dance next Friday night, and not one of us has a date. Why?" Irving wailed. Irving was younger than the other three boys, but he was a tag-along, and was usually accepted with a good-natured tolerance.

"I don't know," Norman said.

"I asked my sister," Paul Lewis said thoughtfully, "and you know what she said?"

Hill smiled as he heard the irate boy's voice crack as he expressed his indignation. "She said: 'Who needs little boys? We have better things to think about!'"

"Well, what does that mean?" asked Norman, frowning in puzzlement. "I know the upperclassmen aren't going out with them."

"They're not supposed to anyway!" Irving retorted with some disgust in his voice. "It isn't etiquette."

"Will you pipe down for a minute, Irving?" John said, grinning at the peevish little boy.

"Yeah, you don't even date, yet!" Norman added.

"I do so!" Irving said, his young male pride wounded to the quick.