The Touch Ch. 33

The guy stayed where he was rammed hard inside of her anus but turned his head to look over his shoulder. I have got to say without prejudice that he was an ugly sod; he had several days' worth of stubble covering his acne spotted face and long greasy light brown hair and looked to be about my height but a bit slimmer and less broad across the shoulders.

"Fuck off and find your own fucking doughnut!" He growled.

The girl must have suddenly realised that there was somebody else there. "Oh please, help me... make him stop.... make him stop!" She whimpered and started to struggle beneath him.

I guess that he realised that he was in a vulnerable position, jeans around his knees, and his dick deep in her arse, because he smacked her hard across the back of the head, bouncing her face off the car bonnet, and then jerked his hips hard, one final time and let out a loud grunt of satisfaction and then dribbled his cum across her buttock as he pulled out and side-stepped quickly around to the side of the car pulling up his trousers.

My mind finally started to clear and I took two steps towards him bringing my fists up; a wordless, angry growl rising in my throat. He spun on his heel and sprinted out of the front of the garage skidding to a halt in the gravel drive.

"I'll be back fucker!" he sneered giving me the finger, "I'll get you right and bleedin' proper!"

"Come on then... let's see you try it!" I challenged, but he was already running out onto the street and away.

I turned back to the girl. She had not moved and was still lying over the car bonnet; I could see that she was grasping the windscreen wipers tightly in her hands and that one of them was twisted out of shape in her fist. She was sobbing frantically and her shoulders were heaving to each wrenching sob, her face was turned to one side, facing me and I could see rivulets of tears running over her cheek and soaking her hair.

I really did not know what to do... I'm not sure that I would have known had I been fully sober. What I had initially thought was a t-shirt was actually a plain, light blue dress which had been bunched up around her waist, and a pair of black cotton panties was hanging from one ankle; there was no sign of any shoes, assuming she had some.

She was in a real mess. There was blood smearing her buttocks and the rear of her thighs and a thick black stream of it oozing down the bonnet of the car, far more blood than I would have thought probable.

I crouched down at the side of the car and extended my hand. I did not want to actually touch her; I remembered reading somewhere that women who had been sexually abused or raped often re-acted badly if another man put hands on them no matter how kindly meant.

"Can you stand up... do you want me to help you?" I asked her as gently and quietly as I could manage.

She didn't move except to fix her eyes onto my face. "Has he gone? Kevin... has he gone?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, he's gone." I told her, the experience was starting to sober me up a bit and my brain was beginning to function on a sensible level. "You need to get off of there... I need to get you some help..." I kept my hand outstretched but didn't move.

She released her hold on the windscreen wipers and started to slide off of the car but when her bare feet hit the concrete her knees started to buckle and she grabbed out and clutched my hand for support then placed the other on the bonnet and steadied herself until her was leaning at the front of the vehicle.

I took a chance and reached across and tugged the hem of her dress down so that her arse and bloodied thighs were covered and a tiny scrap of modesty was restored to her.

I was still kneeling just holding her hand when suddenly a gigantic shadow fell over us from the back door of the garage. "Hello, hello.... What is going on here then?"

I breathed a sigh of relief, it was only Simon Goldblum; of all the guys at the party I was so glad that it was he who had found us. I had known Simon since grammar school 1st year, and we had both been in our house rugby team; he was still keen and now a star player for the Salisbury Rugby Football Club. Simon could never be mistaken for anything but a rugby player, he was about 6' 2" in his stocking feet and almost as broad as he was long, very handsome with short black curly hair, dark brown eyes and a winning smile that totally disarmed the girls and had them panting after him. As usual he was wearing the club rugby shirt of green and white stripes over his jeans. Despite his size he was probably one of the gentlest and kindest men that I knew, but a pure devil in a scrum and the former school boxing champion. He was now preparing to go to the University of St. Andrews to study medicine and in all likelihood would in time become a famous surgeon like both his parents.

"Bloody hell, Simon.... You had me scared shitless..." I gasped. He had also alarmed the girl who grasped my hand tightly, her nails digging into my fingers and was still crying softly.

"What IS going on, Jamie?" He asked quietly his eyes taking in the girl's distress, the blood dripping from the car and the state of her clothing.

"She has been..... er, attacked," I told him, I felt that giving any more detail about the incident would somehow be a breach of confidence even though I did not know this girl at all. "Can you ask one of the other girls to come out to us.... And I think that the police and an ambulance should be called..."

She spun away from the car almost falling and let out a sharp cry of pain, "NO! NO! Please don't call the police or ambulance.... I'm OK... really I am... it was just something that got out of hand... " She turned to me, "I will be alright if I can just rest for a bit. Will you stay with me... just you... nobody else?" She looked pointedly at Simon who took the hint.

"There are some plastic chairs outside...I'll bring one in for you," he said and went back out of the door.

"Thank you..." she murmured.

I stood up and took her elbow to support her, she was very shaky, still a bit weepy and obviously in pain, and then suddenly there was the crunch of gravel in the drive at the front of the garage as a car pulled in. The doors were flung open and three youths got out. The first I instantly recognised as the bum-fucking boyfriend, Kevin, another was very similar in appearance but maybe a year or two older, probably a brother and the third was a small thin lad who reminded me of a mangy weasel.

They moved towards the open garage front in a line. "I'm goin' to kick your fuckin' head in you poncy cock-sucker!" Kevin bawled as they advanced. None of them looked particularly tough, but that night I was still at least half pissed and I noticed something gleaming in Weasel's right hand and guessed that he had some sort of knife. That made him the most dangerous and I certainly didn't want him behind me, and so I thrust the girl back towards the rear of the garage and then moved around the car until I was facing Weasel with the reassuring bulk of the car guarding my left flank.

"I'm gonna stick you..." he mouthed, sounding like some cheap second rate hood in a movie, raising a short kitchen knife and holding it out in front of him. I wasn't at all happy with the situation but it was certainly serving to sober me up fast. He had come to a halt, I was standing in almost total darkness; he obviously wanted me to come out to him and then I spotted a yard broom leaning against the garage wall only a few inches from my right hand. I stamped down on the brush head and wrenched the broom handle away, I now had a four foot length of pole which I thought trumped his four inch blade.

I didn't wait for an invitation I just spun the broom handle and stormed forward out of the darkness. I remembered Dennis telling me about his army training and how when faced with a baton or club most opponents expected the wielder to maximise the power and swing the thing overhead, they seldom expected a lunge with the point. I thrust the inch thick rod forwards with all the strength of both shoulders, ramming it into Weasel's chest and heard something snap. He let out a high pitched scream and sat down hard clutching his chest, the knife skidding under the car, and then, as I prodded at him again threateningly he scrambled backwards and started back towards their car bent almost double.

In my pre-occupation with Weasel I had drunkenly completely forgotten the other two Muppets. I remembered them fast when there was a metallic crash by my head and something large and soft and limp bounced off the roof of the white car and rolled onto the floor and started to crawl away...it was Kevin, I heard Simon's terrifying lion-like roar behind me and guessed that he been giving Kevin flying lessons.

I was looking around for the older one before I realised that he was right beside me and felt him land a fist hard into my ribs, it hurt but it didn't feel as though he had done any serious damage, I had taken far worse punches on the sports field. I must have dropped the broom handle after seeing off Weasel and so I swung out wildly forgetting everything that Dad had taught me about boxing but had the satisfaction of feeling my knuckles make contact with something that crunched and gave way before my fist. Then Simon was right beside me and Kevin the Arse-fucker's brother was running like a rabbit back towards his car, blood streaming from his nose.

The door of the car banged and it reversed out of the drive in a spray of gravel and then screamed away to the sound of crashing gears and burning tyre rubber. Amazingly the whole scrap had only taken a few seconds although as I looked back and replayed each second in my mind it seemed like a bloody lifetime.

"Feh! What sort of a shlumi'el are you, Jamie.... You invite me to a dance and there are only three partners?" Simon chuckled from the other side of the car. "I don't think they will be back for another round... but you should probably close the garage door."

I pulled down the big steel up and over door which threw the garage into almost total darkness and then walked back towards the rear. The girl was now sitting uncomfortably in a green plastic garden chair by the closed rear door and Simon was standing in the opening the other side ready to leave.

"Just like old times... you and me brawling in the school playground, two kovesh against all comers, eh!" He laughed and reached around behind the door and produced an almost full bottle of cheap whisky which he thrust in my direction. "I brought this out with me... I think your need is greater than mine, I found a case inside."

I stepped up to Simon and we exchanged a back slapping bear-hug. "Thanks Si," I didn't need to say more we knew each other too well. It had never even crossed my mind that he might think I was responsible for the girl's distress and I don't believe that he had thought it either. He walked back to the kitchen door and I waited for a minute before returning to the girl. The really amazing thing was that nobody at the party seemed to have noticed any of what had gone down in the garage, but the music was still very loud and everybody was as pissed as newts.

I went back to the girl and crouched down in front of her. She was not the sort of girl that I found particularly attractive; I thought her face was a bit plain and angular and her hair a mess but then she was flushed with crying and her eyes were red and swollen and she had a bruise starting on her cheek. I think she was about 5'4" with small breasts and was very slim with almost no curves to her waist and hips but her legs were slim and shapely and I remembered her buttocks being small but well rounded.

"Do you want some of this?" I offered unscrewing the cap and holding forward the whisky bottle. She smiled weakly and nodded and took a serious swig and swallowed it down without coughing. "What is your name?" I asked, she said nothing, "I need to call you something.... I think you owe me a name if nothing else... don't you?"

"Cherry," she murmured, "Cheryl really but they call me Cherry. What's yours?"

"Jamie." I offered. "I really think that I should get you some help... you've been bleeding... you ought to get yourself examined..."

"NO! There's really no need....." She started to sob softly again and then suddenly the dam burst and words flowed from her as if she needed to purge her pain by telling the story "It wasn't really rape you know.... Kevin is sort of my boyfriend, we dated before, and we did it... you know, had sex once before.... I suppose it was really my fault..."

I could not understand why this silly girl was defending a violent pig who had obviously been hurting her and had probably hurt her in the past. She didn't seem to be very bright but I had no patience with creeps who beat up on girls.

"We came in here to be alone... Kevin tried to get into the car but it was locked... we were snogging and I was letting him touch my tits and then he wanted to have a screw..." She took a deep breath and tried to wipe her eyes with her hand. I fished into my pocket and came up with a clean hankerchief for her. "I told him that we couldn't because it was my period... I have terrible periods, a lot of pain and I bleed constantly." She blew her nose noisily and offered the hankerchief back to me, I indicated that she should keep it. She was starting to cry again. I patted her hand and nodded for her to continue with the story.

"He got really angry... started pushing me and saying horrible things... I really didn't want to have sex... it's painful at this time of the month.. and I told him I was afraid that I would get up the duff... you know... pregnant." She managed a weak smile. "I told him that I would wank him off but he didn't want that.... he just kept shouting at me that he wanted a fuck." She was gabbling though her tears as though she needed to get the whole story out quickly. "Then he got all nice and said there was a way that I could make it good for him and no chance of getting stuffed up. He told me he would just put his cock between my bum cheeks .... That I should bend over the car..... I didn't know he was going to..... going to.... " She broke into another fit of gasping sobs.

"It's OK you don't need to...." I wasn't sure if a really wanted to hear the rest, I had seen for myself what had obviously happened.

"He just rammed his cock into me.... " she wailed. "I just couldn't believe it..... it hurt so much....my arse felt like it was tearing, I begged him to stop but he wouldn't, the bastard just kept shoving his prick in harder and harder, it felt so big and hard, I could feel myself stretched and bleeding inside and I was frightened.... I didn't want to do it and it hurt, it felt like my arsehole was on fire!" She blew her nose again, hard. "And I was bleeding again from my period as well.. and he just wouldn't stop.... and it hurt me!"

She was sobbing her heart out again and I knew that I was out of my depth. I took a couple of seriously large pulls from the bottle and lit a cigarette and offered it to her, she shook her head. "Look," I said, "I'm going into the house to get one of the other girls to come and talk to you... maybe she will take you home if you won't go to the hospital?"

I went back into the house and asked around until I found a couple of girls who knew Cherry and told them she had been knocked about by her boyfriend. They finally agreed to get a taxi to take her home if I paid and followed me out to the garage.

Cherry was gone. There was still the blood on the car bonnet, smears of more blood on the chair and I found a pair of sling back shoes beneath the car. The other girls did not seem to concerned.

"Fuck her..the stupid bitch!" One of them said to me. "If she is crazy enough to date that lunatic Kevin, she deserves what she gets..." So much for petticoat solidarity, I thought.

I wandered through the house, the party was starting to break up and most of our group were ready to leave. Nobody had seen anything of Cherry.

"She has probably gone off looking for that prick Kevin...." Simon commented as we all sat on the garden wall waiting for our taxi. Josh and I were really rat-arsed but Si was relatively sober. "If you went down to the hospital casualty department later you would probably find her, kicked half to death and fucked brainless by all three of those little toe-rags!"

I didn't want to think about that possibility. There were a couple of inches of whisky left in the bottle and so I swigged down half and then passed it to Simon. Cherry was one of life's born victims but she still didn't deserve to be treated that way, nobody did.

I was the first to be dropped off by the taxi and stood in the road outside of our house drunkenly swaying and waving to Josh, Tim and Simon as they were driven away. It had been an evening of contrasts, the pub had been good fun it had been great to relax and just be an irresponsible teenager for a change; the incident with Cherry had put a bit of a dampener on the party, but hey-ho, what I really needed was another drink.

I let myself into the house and went straight through to the dining room and hooked a tumbler and a half full bottle of whisky out of the drinks cabinet and staggered up the stairs to my room. There was no point in trying to be silent, Gwen was staying at Maggie's place, I remembered Emma had said she could be sleeping over at the stables, I was on my own in the house.

I took off my jeans and shoes, poured myself a large drink and sat in my leather club chair, in my boxers and t-shirt musing about the evening. Josh had been hilarious the way that he had become totally immersed in his joy about going to Uni; we had all laughed like drains when he had stood on a chair in the pub and pontificated about his father, Tim and himself being the greatest anglers in the world and didn't even stop talking after he buggered over and lay on the pub floor, soaked in beer.

It had been really great seeing Simon again, we hadn't met up much since I left school and in many ways, although I had known Josh longer and Simon had been a boarder at school, his parents both worked in Israel for long periods, of the two Si and I were probably the closer friends.

The incident with Cherry gave me some cause for inebriated reflection. Not just the violence both sexual and physical but the whole concept of anal sex. I had never had anal sex although I remembered Debbie hinting about it once, I knew guys who claimed that they had and I was never blind to the fact that bum-fucking happened between boys at boarding school, although far less than the urban myth suggested. I guess it was the male counterpart of girl-on-girl sex which I knew was quite common at girl's schools.

I had also heard the claims that some girls not only did it, but also liked it although in truth I had never discussed it with any woman that I knew and my one experience of anal sex had been that same night and had convinced me that it was probably something that most girls would find painful and wish to avoid. I wanted any sexual acts that I shared with a woman to be mutually pleasurable and I would need a lot of convincing before I would risk inflicting the sort of pain that I had witnessed that night.

The couple of additional glasses of whisky that I had consumed had topped me off, I was totally rat-arsed again and desperately needed a pee. I levered myself out of the chair and staggered down the hall to the bathroom, falling through the door with a loud crash. Somehow I managed to take a leak without falling into the pan or pissing over the floor and was quite pleased with myself for that achievement until I looked in the large bathroom mirror. The reflection that stared back at me looked pasty faced and slack jawed and there was a large smear of blood on one cheek and a trail of blood droplets splattered aross the shoulder of my t-shirt.