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Message-ID: <47789asstr$1084277402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: artyeleven@yahoo.co.uk (Artyeleven)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 11 May 2004 09:58:59 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Jenny (3/7) {Arty} (MF rom slow rape gang anal drug first?)
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Date: Tue, 11 May 2004 08:10:02 -0400
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Jenny
by Arty

Chapter 3

The sound of the key in the front door jerked me from my
unwelcome reverie. Kate had arrived and, eschewing the
doorbell, was using her key. I reflected that, should I ever
have a serious girlfriend, I'd have to warn her about Kate's
sometimes-unexpected comings and goings. I supposed that at
some point I'd have to get the key back, but it'd been
incredibly useful to have someone I could trust with a key.
As the door to the bedroom opened I pasted a wan smile on my
face.

"Kate, you needn't have bothered. It's only a twenty-four
hour thing I'm sure."

"Yeah, right. And you can stop the phoney 'I'm really ill
but making an effort to appear not so' act, Andy. I know you
too well."

I slumped back in to the pillows. This was going to be much
harder than I'd feared.

"So what's the problem? As soon as I mentioned Jenny's name,
I could see you were shocked. You hid it well - you always
do - but I knew there was something wrong; and forgetting
the file? You never forget anything. So, give."

I marshalled my thoughts; some portion of the truth and a
few lies of omission might get me off the hook. I started to
speak.

"Okay, you're right. It's not Jenny though; it's the name.
It reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago. She'd been
hurt - badly - and I'd tried to help her. At first I thought
I'd been successful, but then I found out that I'd hardly
scratched the surface of it. I failed her, Kate."
Unexpectedly I started to cry, the raw emotion that I'd
thought that I'd buried a decade or so ago rushing back with
a vengeance. It was this, rather than any dissembling on my
part, that deflected Kate's suspicions.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

"She left a note. I found it, and her. She'd taken an
overdose."

"Oh Andy!"

I'd managed to make her throw up by the simple expedient of
sticking my finger down her throat. Then I called an
ambulance. I kept the note. I made sure that it was obvious
what had happened and then stayed out of the way as the
paramedics did their job. Student suicides weren't common,
but they weren't unusual either. I didn't tell Kate this and
she drew the obvious conclusion. I found myself enveloped in
a fierce hug.

"Hearing her name brought it all back to me. She's the
reason that I do what I do." I sat back as if exhausted by
all the emotion. Then I realised that it wasn't an act and
my eyelids drooped. Kate lay down on the bed next to me and
cuddled me.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. I'll get over it. But if you don't
mind, I'd prefer to be alone tonight."

"Oh, okay, if you're sure? I don't mind staying over." Our
relationship had been physical at one point and we did still
make love occasionally, but I couldn't face it tonight. I
didn't deserve to feel any pleasure while memories of what
I'd done to Jenny were still fresh in my mind.

"Please."

Kate kissed me goodnight and I watched as she left the room.
When I heard the front door close I lay back and heaved an
enormous sigh of relief. With a bit of luck, I could avoid
the subject for long enough to sort something out about
Jenny. My thoughts were interrupted by sleep, which
descended on me with tsunami suddenness.

.oOo.

God she was exquisite. So tight and so hot, I could feel the
walls of her cunt gripping me as she came. I looked at her
face and she was lost in pleasure as far as I could tell as
she was sucking some other guy off at the time. She was
flushed and sweating. I could see the muscles of her stomach
become rigid and each time they did I could feel her
clamping down on my cock as I thrust as deeply as I could
within her.

"You wanna assfuck her?" A girl I didn't know very well
whispered in my ear.

I groaned as the girl I was in came again. I couldn't
believe how turned I was by the sight of her before me. I
nodded. The whisperer called to a couple of other guys.

"Lift her legs, he wants to try her other hole."

I pulled out and the girl groaned in protest at the lack of
cock in her cunt. Two guys I knew vaguely lifted her legs by
her ankles and bent her almost double. The girl grasped my
cock at its base and positioned me on her asshole.

"Push."

I did as I was told and the tightness and the heat of her
ass were better even than her cunt. I knew I wasn't going to
last much longer. I increased the speed and force of my
thrusts. The girl screamed each time I bottomed out, whether
it was pleasure or pain I couldn't tell. When I came I
shouted my release and almost collapsed as I pulled out of
her. Before I could collect my wits I was pushed aside and
another guy took my place. I looked for somewhere to dispose
of my condom.

In the light of the bathroom I noticed that there was some
blood on the condom, well not blood exactly just that the
fluids were slightly tinged with red, almost as if she'd
bled some time ago and...

.oOo.

I sat bolt upright in bed, the memory of the condom tinged
in the blood from her torn hymen still clear in my mind's
eye. Oh shit, had she been a virgin? I groaned as the
thought that I might've participated in the gang rape of a
virgin girl wiped the cobwebs of sleep from my mind. I lay
back and weathered another storm of self-loathing. I knew
I'd never sleep until I'd remembered everything. .oOo.

When she'd woken up I persuaded her to drink plenty of
water. She'd had too much alcohol to drink the night before
and I had no idea how long the drug would take to leave her
system. In any case dehydration would only make things
worse. She still looked at me with that blank look, but I
thought that I could detect the beginnings of recovery.
Unlike the previous night she seemed much better
coordinated, even if she was still unable to initiate an
action. She was still tired so, after a visit to the
bathroom to use the toilet, I told her to go back to bed and
sleep some more.

I waited until she slept deeply and then I took her keys and
walked quickly to the 'phone box on the corner.

"Alice, do me a favour would you? Could you get some basic
food supplies and bring them to this address. You know the
sort of thing bread, butter, cereal, tea, milk, coffee, and
baked beans. Yeah thanks. No, it's no one you know. Friend
of a friend, I said I'd look in on her and I discover she's
ill with the 'flu. Could you. Thanks, you're a star."

With food supplies sorted out, I got back to her flat. She
was still asleep. A gentle knock on the door heralded the
arrival of Alice. I kept her out of the room for now and we
talked in the corridor.

"Thanks, she's sleeping for now. I think she's passed the
worst of it, but she's just very weak."

"I know what it's like I had it last year remember. Once
you've had 'flu for real you never mistake a cold for 'flu
ever again."

"I'll stay with her today, I told her that I was Steve's
friend, but she's still so out of it I don't think it
registered. Could you do me a favour and come back tomorrow.
I think she'll feel safer if there's another woman in the
house."

"Yes, of course. I only have one lecture tomorrow and it's
over by 10:30, I can be here by 11."

"Brilliant. You're a star."

I kissed her cheek and took the bags of foodstuffs into the
flat with me. While Jenny slept, I packed the supplies into
her cupboards and set about cleaning the dust off everything
in the kitchen. A lunch of scrambled eggs on toast seemed
reasonable so I set about preparing it. The smell of the
toast had awakened her, so I helped her to sit up and set
the tray on her lap. The aroma from the food made her
realise that she was hungry and without prompting she fell
upon it and ate quickly. I could see that she was recovering
her self-will and this cheered me. She looked at me with a
question in her eyes. I made a quick decision and told her
the same story that I'd told Alice.

"You've had a touch of 'flu or something. Steve asked me to
look in on you. And I couldn't leave you on your own. I have
a girl friend coming tomorrow, but if you'd rather I went, I
can have her come round now. I don't think you should be
alone."

"Don't go."

"Okay. Do you like tea or coffee?"

"Tea, please."

"One mug of tea coming up." I picked up the tray returned to
the kitchen alcove with it. Once there I turned on the
kettle, which I'd found hidden in a cupboard and prepared a
mug with milk and a teabag. Once the tea was made I took it
to her and sat as she sipped at it.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired. I ache everywhere."

"Viruses can do that. A friend of mine had 'flu last year
and she said she ached for weeks afterwards."

"That must be it. Only I'm sore," she blushed as she spoke,
"as well."

"Sore?"

"Y'know, down there."

"Oh. Perhaps you ought to see a doctor, I can call one if
you like."

"No, it's not too bad, if it doesn't get any better I will
call her."

I waited until she'd finished the tea and then she said she
wanted to sleep again. I've always been a fan of letting the
body take care of itself, but I resolved to make sure she
got to a doctor as soon as she could manage on her own.
While she slept I found her diary and, sure enough, in the
'in case of emergency' section she had listed a couple of
girls and with local 'phone numbers too. Before Alice and I
left tomorrow I would ring them and make sure that they were
with her.

I must have dozed off myself, for the next thing I remember
was being awakened by the sound of crying. It didn't last
long and I drifted off again not long afterwards. The next
day dawned and I stretched, stiff from my self-imposed vigil
in the chair. I heard the sound of water from the bathroom.
I scribbled a hurried note saying I would be back soon and
let myself out of the flat.

This was a delicate time. She needed to know what had
happened to her, so that she could keep away from Steve. I
was too much of a coward to do it face to face, so I decided
to do it in a letter. I sat in my car and drafted an account
of what Steve had done to her. I wrote down what I knew of
the drug I thought he had given her and finished with a plea
to get checked for STDs, not to mention HIV. I rationalised
away the fact that I would be hiding my involvement. I had
all sorts of high-sounding moralistic arguments but they all
boiled down to the fact that I was scum and self-serving
scum at that.

I saw Alice arriving and got out of the car to meet her.

"Hi."

"Hi, David."

"Look before we go in can I have a word with you?"

"Of course."

"It's about Jenny." I paused and marshalled my thoughts. "I
lied to you yesterday. I found her at one of Steve's
parties. She was naked; I think he'd drugged her. She was
pretty out of it. I was leaving anyway, so I brought her
home. Steve was bragging about it in the kitchen and waving
a bottle of something around. I just saw red; I smashed it
and beat up him. Badly. I think I put him in hospital.
Anyway, I'm not sure Jenny remembers what happened. But in
case she does, I think she'd prefer it if there was another
girl around. I wrote a letter; she has to read it, please
make sure that she does."

Alice looked shocked. "There's more that you're not telling
me isn't there?"

"Yes, but it's for Jenny to know first. It's all in the
letter. Ask her if she will let you read it."

I gave her the keys to Jenny's flat and said she should go
up.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to ring a couple of Jenny's friends and tell
them that she's been poorly and could do with some help
tomorrow. I'll be back in about half an hour or so."

When I arrived back at Jenny's flat after 'phoning her
friends, Alice had just finished reading the letter. Jenny
opened the door at my knock, I looked in her eyes and I was
glad to see none of the blankness in her expression that had
characterised the effects of the drug. Alice jumped up as
she finished the letter.

"You bastard! Get away from her!"

Jenny looked bewildered at this outburst from Alice. She
turned and spoke, "What's wrong? He helped me."

"He raped you. Oh he doesn't say it in the letter, and you
couldn't prove it in a court of law, but I know it." She
turned towards me, her expression of disgust and loathing
cut me to the core. Until then I had considered Alice to be
my best friend. She spoke to me in tones of liquid helium.

"Go away. I never want to see or hear from you again. Stay
away from Jenny; I'll make sure she's okay from now on. She
doesn't need a rapist like you pawing over her."

I nodded. Her loathing seemed somehow fitting. Before I left
I told them that Jenny's friends would be around this
evening to see if she needed help tomorrow. I left then; the
fallout from the party had started.

.oOo.

Whilst my actions never did become common knowledge, the
fact that Alice would no longer talk to me, even shunned me,
did. I refused to explain to our mutual friends what the
problem was and, little by little, I distanced myself from
everyone I had been close to. It seemed the best thing to
do; Alice made no secret of her disgust, and it made
everyone uncomfortable when we were in a group together. I
was spending more and more of my free time checking up on
Jenny anyway. It was during this time that I met the man who
would change my life.

I'd been sitting in a corner café watching the doctor's
surgery where Jenny had gone for her weekly appointment. She
wasn't handling the aftermath of the party too well and I'd
heard that she was very depressed. I'd made my mug last for
half an hour and I just knew I couldn't face the rest of the
cold tea. The waitress was glaring at me; I ignored her. A
non-descript man on the next table got up and sat in the
vacant seat opposite me. I looked up in irritation; what did
he think he was doing?

"You have to keep the waitresses happy, otherwise they will
make a point of throwing you out or drawing attention to
you." I looked at him blankly. "So order the breakfast. If
you don't eat it, 'cause the person you're following moves
on; it just means that next time you're here they'll give
you a bit extra." He looked at me appraisingly. "It's not
like you couldn't afford to gain a few pounds anyway." I
hadn't been eating too well recently and I'd lost almost a
stone in the last few weeks; nothing like self-loathing to
put you off your food.

"Why're you telling me this?"

"I dunno, really. For all I know you could be a stalker."

"I'm not."

"I know."

"How? You don't even know me. You should have told the
police or something." I tailed off, I wanted to tell
someone, but what good would it do? Perhaps if I turned
myself in ...

"David Andrew Swanston. 20 years old, a 3rd year
undergraduate student studying accountancy. You were an
ordinary guy until a couple of months ago, when you got into
a fight at a party. Something to do with the girl that
you're following now." I stared at the man opposite me. If
he'd suddenly sprouted three heads, I don't think I'd have
been more shocked.

"How..." I tried again, "How do you know all this?"

"It's my job."

"Your job?"

"Yes, I'm a private detective, semi-retired now, though. You
intrigued me." He stopped and waved to the waitress. She
smiled at him; a sharp contrast to the glare she usually
gave me.

"What can I get you, Stan?"

"A couple of specials and refills for both of us. Thanks,
Julie"

He turned to me. "Contrary to popular opinion, waitresses
aren't stupid, and she knows what you do here every week.
The best thing you can do is to make her your friend, and
then you won't need to worry about her calling the cops." He
paused in thought. "Of course, if you are some sort of
pervert, then she'll remember you and be able to tell the
police much more, so it's a high-risk strategy if you have
criminal intent."

The breakfasts arrived and the smell of the food reminded me
that I was very hungry. I dug in. In between bites, I told
Stan everything. I didn't mean to, but he was a great
listener and, before I realised it, I'd unloaded the whole
story. I waited for the condemnation.

"That's quite a tale." He sipped his tea and stared at me. I
tried to read his expression, but more than thirty years of
experience kept his face neutral while he digested the
things that I'd told him. While he thought, I reflected on
the way that I felt; I still felt bad about myself, but the
awful pressure to tell someone - anyone - about what had
happened seemed to have gone.

"Why are you following her?"

"I'm not sure. I just want to be around in case she needs
help. It's the least I can do."

He cogitated some more and then he came to a decision. "In
that case I think you need some assistance."

I started to protest, but he waved my words away. Thus began
my training in the art of being a detective. Over the next
few weeks, I got 'on the job training' from Stan and learnt
the tricks of not being noticed. On his advice, I changed my
appearance: different clothes and a new haircut. It was his
training that allowed me to be in a position to save Jenny's
life after she took her overdose.

When I graduated, I changed my name - dropping my first name
and using my mother's maiden surname. Why did I change my
name? David Swanston was, for me, forever a rapist; every
time I heard my name spoken I thought once more of the
party. I decided that I couldn't live like that, and I
needed to survive so that I could continue to look out for
Jenny. Stan gave me a job as an investigator at his agency.
There were four of us and it soon became clear that my
talents and my training suited me for forensic accounting.
Throughout my time with Stan, I was able to keep a watchful
eye on Jenny. Her attempted suicide had got her the
attention of the medical establishment and some genuine
psychiatric care, rather than the half-hearted, though
well-meaning, attempts of her GP.

I learnt that she was having some financial problems. I had
money to burn: I didn't have any vices and my needs were
modest, so the money just piled up. I don't know exactly
when I had the idea - in hindsight it was obvious - I had
money, she didn't, so I arranged to transfer regular amounts
into her account. Of course she tried to give it back, but
the banks were less than helpful. Eventually, she must have
come to accept it as just one more strange event in a life
filled, for her, with strange events.

When Stan finally retired, he let me buy the agency from
him. I changed the name and thus DAS Investigations was
born. For all his appearance as a world-weary cynical
investigator, I discovered that my case was far from being
unique. It turned out, as I trawled through his files, that
he'd spent most of his 'retirement' taking on cases for
people who would never be able to pay him. Especially close
to my heart was the work that he did for the local women's
refuge. When I indicated that I'd carry on where Stan had
left off, their relief was obvious.

Eventually I moved the head office to the City, we were
doing more and more financial work. I would have stayed
where we were, but Jenny had moved to London, and so I
followed. I'd thought that it was a good idea at the time.
Now I wasn't so sure.

-Continued-

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