Glen Ransom - The experiment

Lisa stiffened her body, sickened by his presence and tried to move around him. "Carl, you're drunk, leave me alone."

"I'll leave you alone if you can tell me what that mama's boy can show you that I can't. Come on, we're going to dance then we'll talk about whose taking you home."

Lisa felt her body go limp as he pulled her to the dance floor. Carl was mean when he was sober and cruelly aggressive when he was drunk. He was also unpredictable when he was angry and she was afraid of him, even in this crowd. As he pushed his way through the dancers to the middle of the floor, Lisa looked around for Peter or Kathy for help. Carl stopped suddenly and locked his arm tightly around her waist pressing her body against his. Other bodies around them pushed up against them forcing them together as the band began to play.

The music was slow and heady, and Carl, in his drunken stupor began to undulate his body against hers to the rhythm of the song. His face was pressed to the side of her ear and his hot heaving breath sent cold chills tingling from her neck to her spine. She felt breathless and woozy and tried to back away from him, but his pressure against her body remained secure and unyielding.

"Carl, I can't breath, let me go."

"Mmmmmmmm, listen to that soft sexy music, Lisa. Doesn't it do anything for you?" Carl continued his animal like gyrating against her, ignoring her pleas. His right arm began to slide slowly up from her small waist, reaching under her upraised arm to caress her round, firm breast. Lisa stiffened her body, not knowing what to do. If she moved to push him away, the struggle would attract the attention of the other dancers. She lowered her arm and pressed it tightly to her side, blocking his creeping fingers, and pinning them to the side of her body as they continued to dance. Still not discouraged, Carl removed his other hand from her waist and cupped it around the mounds of her buttocks, clasping and unclasping at them through the filmy gown while he continued to grind his body against hers to the tempo of the music. Lisa gasped in surprise. With utter repugnance, she could feel the hardness of his growing penis burning hotly on her thigh, even through the folds of her dress.

She gave a strong lurch and broke his hold on her, leaving him standing in the middle of the dance floor with a dazed look on his face. Her eyes searched frantically around the room for Peter and Kathy. To her relief, she could see them heading for the table and hurried over to meet them before Carl could catch up with her. Kathy waved as she and Peter made their way over to her.

Lisa was leaning over to get her purse and coat when Carl came up behind her and grabbed her wrist, spinning her around to face him.

"You little tease," he hissed through his teeth. "I can buy you, your old man, and that mama's boy of yours with my week's allowance," he spat at her as he released her wrist and flung it back at her.

Lisa couldn't reply, but stared back at him as though mesmerized by his hateful stare.

His eyes were ablaze and his face contorted with rage. Lisa could feel the shock waves of panic vibrating through her. His anger frightened her, and even in this crowded room, she was not sure he would not try to revenge himself on her for her rather unceremonious rebuff of his drunken advances.

"Hey, Carl old buddy," Peter chimed in, unaware of the conversation that preceded his entrance, "are you having a good time?" He laughed and slapped Carl on the back in a gesture of camaraderie.

"Ah go to hell," Carl snarled as he pushed away from him and stumbled out into the crowd.

"What's with him?" Peter asked, then dismissing the subject, turned to Lisa "how about the neat dance," he asked, bowing down and waving his arm out in a clown-like manner.

Lisa said nothing, still numbed by Carl's tantrum.

"Hey, Lisa," he persisted, "didn't you hear me, I just ask you for a dance."

"Yes, you two go ahead, I'm beat," Kathy said as she dropped down into the nearest chair.

"Huh? I'm sorry, what did you say?" Lisa asked as she turned back to Peter and Kathy. She felt bloodless as she watched Carl disappear back into the crowd and his vicious words were still ringing in her ears. They had shocked her beyond feeling. How could he say such horrible things? Oh Mark, I'm sorry I came here, why can't you be with me now, she thought, as the closeness of the room and noise sent her head reeling.

"Kathy, I just have to get out of here, would you and Peter mind taking me back to the dorm now?"

"Ah, Christ, Lisa, I don't want to drive all the way back there now," Peter argued, "besides we were going to drop by an after party just down the street. We promised the group we would, so let's stop by for a while and then go back. Ok?"

Since Lisa had no other way of getting home that night, she reluctantly agreed to go with them.

The cool night breeze rustled through the golden strands of Lisa's long flowing hair as she made her way alone down the dark pathway to Peter's car, which was parked at the far side of the road. Tears of frustration streamed down her cheeks as she half-stumbled, half-ran through the darkness trying to control the fury building up inside of her. The "after party" had turned out to be even wilder than the dance, and when she tried to find Peter and Kathy, someone had slyly remarked about them disappearing to one of the back bedrooms. Now, she had no choice but to wait for them out in Peter's car and try to get some sleep.

Inside the car, she regained control of her feelings. The peaceful calm of the night compared to the frantic crowd of sweating bodies back at the house helped to soothe her shaking body. Making a pillow out of her coat, she decided to rest in the back seat. Lying there, she could hear the scattered trills from the night birds in the nearby grove. Not too far away, the piercing mating growl of a tom cat could be heard. These sounds soon blended into one as her nerve-racked body found a troubled but deep sleep.

Later, Lisa suddenly awoke with a start. The car was rolling and had come to a quick stop at the bottom of the hill in a thick grove of trees. A dark figure leaned over the steering wheel in the front seat, guiding the car to a halt under a huge low-hanging pepper tree.

It was Carl Shankey!

Oh God! she thought. What's he doing, and how did he get the keys to Peter's car?

"Carl," she gasped, "what are you doing? How did you get the keys?"

"No keys, baby," he slurred, "just smarts. A simple matter of slipping the brake and coasting down to this cozy little grove. Isn't that a kick?" As he spoke, a low cruel laugh could be heard building up in his voice. There was no doubt now in Lisa's mind of his sinister intentions to revenge himself for her actions back at the dance.

Fighting back the panic, she lunged for the door and pushed down on the handle, but Carl, anticipating such a move, reached out and in one swift movement grabbed a handful of her long hair, snapping her neck back and forcing her back down on the seat. He swung his legs over the front seat and slid down beside her, sitting near her head with his hand entwined around the clump of hair at the base of her neck. He tightened his grip on it and pulled back sharply, bringing her terror-stricken gaze in line with his. His head was close to hers, the smell of Scotch overpowering her dazed mind. She struggled and tried to loosen his grip, but without success.

"That was so uncool, Lisa," he whispered. "A very uncool move. You know you're going to get fucked don't you, so you might as well relax and enjoy it. That's what they say isn't it?"

Lisa stared back at him, unblinking, her body frozen to the seat. Hysteria swept over her as the grim realization that she was totally at his mercy penetrated her tortured thoughts.

"Well, isn't it," he hissed pulling down harder on her hair, "isn't it?"