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Thomas 27


All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
This story is another from the archives, and is not written by me.
Requests for just about anything concerning these posts will be ignored.
See the FAQ in a.s.s.d for more information. And stop sending talk
requests. Even when I'm logged in to this posting site, I usually
have the window closed, and if I don't, it's because I'm WORKING

Thomas' Story: Cumin' of Age
------------------------------
by T. F. Yank

----------------------------[ Disclaimer ]-----------------------
The following story is purely fictitious. Any resemblance to real
life simply means I got lucky. It contains consensual and non-
consensual sex between minors (High School). If such things offend
you, please hit 'N' or however you abort reading messages on your
system.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
*** W A R N I N G ***
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

There is a particularly _UGLY_ rape scene depicted in chapters 23 -
26. You may wish to skip these chapters if you find such subject
matter offensive.

-----o0o-----

Due to the length of the entire story (37 chapters in all), Please
do not ask me to e-mail you any parts that you might have missed.
Comments, criticisms (constructive or not), and even flames are
permissable however. (Hell, I've been here for a while and STILL
haven't received even one flame. Starting to feel left out [grin])
----------------------------[ Enjoy ]-----------------------

-- Chapter Twenty-Seven

Thomas had left home extra early, so he could be sure he didn't miss
the girls on their way to school. It was for that reason, he was
surprised to see Louanne already waiting for him at her corner. As he
drew closer, he could tell she had been crying.
"Are you okay?" he asked, once he reached her.
"Oh Tommy," she sobbed, as she threw her arms around him.
"What's wrong, Lou?"
"It's Debbie."
"Debbie? What wrong with Debbie?"
"She's . . . she's . . ." Louanne started crying, and was unable to
say anything else.
"Let's get you home," Thomas suggested, as he led her back to her
house.
Mrs. Raster met them at the door, still dressed in her housecoat.
"Poor baby," she said, taking Louanne into her arms. She turned and
led her into the house.
Thomas stood there, uncertain what to do until Mrs, Raster called
for him to come in.
He followed them into the living room, still wondering what was
going on.
"Please sit down, Thomas," Mrs. Raster said. "I have some bad news
for you about Debbie."
"And it's all my fault," Louanne cried.
"It's not your fault. You had nothing to do with it," her step-
mother said.
"It is my fault. If I hadn't been failing history, Tommy wouldn't
have been tutoring me last night. He would have been with her instead.
And it would never have happened."
Louanne started to cry hysterically. Her step-mother asked Thomas
to wait until she could put Louanne to bed. Thomas watched them go
upstairs. He wondered what was going on. Obviously something terrible
had happened to Debbie. But what? What wouldn't have happened if he
had been with Debbie last night?
Mrs. Raster returned to the living room a few minutes later. "I
gave her something to help her sleep. She'll be better after she gets
some rest."
"If there's anything I can do?" Thomas asked.
"I hope you're strong," Mrs. Raster said, rather cryptically.
"Well, I do lift weights," Thomas answered, not quite understanding
what his strength had to do with anything.
Mrs. Raster smiled weakly. "That's not quite what I meant. Louanne
tells me you and Debbie have been seeing each other? Kind of going out
together?"
"Well, we only went out once. But I see her every day at school and
stuff like that. She kinda got grounded, and I've been busy at night
tutoring Louanne."
"Yes, I know. You really like her, don't you?"
"I guess I do. I know you probably think we're too young for stuff
like this. But I love her very much. And I think she loves me, too."
Thomas saw tears in Mrs. Raster's eyes. For a moment, he was
frightened she would start crying like Louanne had.
"No. I don't think you two are too young for love," she said,
sadly. "It will just make this all the more painful."
"What? Please tell me what's going on. Is Debbie okay? Where is
she?" he asked, feeling fear grow in his heart.
"This is going to be difficult enough. Please try to remain calm,
Thomas."
"I will. But please tell me what's happened to Debbie. Please!"
"Sometime last night, someone attacked her. They beat her terribly.
And worse, it appears they raped her."
Thomas let out a cry, "No!" He jumped up, and ran to the door.
Mrs. Raster was right behind him. Before he could get the door
open, she took him in her arms. Holding him tightly, she led him back
to the living room.
"Now Thomas, running away won't help. Try to calm down, and I'll
tell you all I know about what happened." she said, soothingly.
He wanted to say he hadn't been running away. He had been running
to Debbie. Only he didn't know where she was.
"Debbie's father called here around 10 last night, quite frantic.
Seems Debbie had gone out after supper and still hadn't come home. He
asked if Louanne might know where Debbie had gone. Or, if Louanne knew
if she was seeing some boy."
Thomas stiffened at that. Sensing his tension, Mrs. Raster said,
"Don't worry. Louanne didn't say anything about you. Not then anyway.
She told me later, but I haven't told anyone either."
Thomas relaxed as Mrs. Raster continued.
"I offered to go out and look for her. But he said something about
it not be necessary, and hung up. Worried, I called him back just
before I went up to bed. I was surprised, and very worried, when a
policeman answered the phone."
"He wouldn't give me any information. All he would say was that
Bert, that's Debbie's father, couldn't come to the phone. Frightened,
I grabbed my coat and ran over to his house."
"Bert wasn't home. There was this young police officer. At first,
he refused to say anything. But when I told him I was a close personal
friend of the family, and how Bert had called me earlier worried about
Debbie, he finally admitted that Debbie was in the hospital. He said
that someone had attacked her."
"I must have become hysterical. The next thing I remember is
sitting on the couch in their living room, and the young officer
holding a box of kleenex out to me. I begged the officer to tell me
what had happened. He was reluctant at first, but after considerable
pleading on my part, he relented."
"He told me how someone had found her wandering around naked. She
seemed dazed, and kept muttering, 'Please no more' over and over again.
She was covered with bruises and was bleeding from several cuts. The
good person who found her, rushed her to the Hospital."
"Bert had already called the hospital and the police to report
Debbie missing. So when she was admitted to the emergency room, they
immediately recognized her from the description her father had given.
He couldn't tell me anything about her condition. He was simply
watching the house, while Bert was at the hospital".
"Something about him being there, in case whoever attacked her came
back there looking for her. I had regained my composure by then, and
thanked him for the information. I hurried home."
"I have several friends who work at the hospital. I called one of
them as soon as I got home to see if he could tell me more about
Debbie's condition. He told me that they had her sedated. And that
she would, eventually, be okay physically. But the doctors were more
concerned about her mental health."
"I asked him to let me know any further developments, and if I could
be of any help. As I hung up, I saw Louanne behind me. She was as
pale as a ghost. It was then I realized, in shock, I must have
repeated some of what my friend had said. And Louanne had heard."
"I spent the better part of the night trying to calm Louanne down.
And I tried to get her to stay in bed this morning. But she insisted
that she had to be there, in case you came by."
Thomas sat there, his body trembling. He fought a losing battle,
trying to keep from crying. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the
room before him.
"Go ahead and cry," Mrs. Raster said softly, as she held him. He
broke down and cried uncontrollably. She stroked his hair lightly, as
she said, "Sometimes that's the only way to let the pain out."
He didn't know how long he sat there, his head pressed against her
shoulder. He had never cried that hard before in his life. He had
never felt so much pain in his heart. He fought to control his tears.
He broke from her gentle arms and jumped up.
"I have to go. I have to . . ."
"Please Thomas," she said, taking hold of his hand. "Where are you
going?"
"I have to go see Debbie. She needs me. There has to be something
I can do. I feel so helpless."
He turned his face away from her, as tears again streamed down his
cheeks.
"Please Thomas, sit down. You can't go to Debbie. They don't allow
someone your age to visit patients without an adult. Besides, Debbie
is in no condition to see you right now."
"But I have to see her," he sobbed.
"I know you do. Look, I have already promised Louanne that I'd take
her up to see Debbie this afternoon. That is if Debbie is allowed
visitors. You could come with us, if you wanted to."
"Could I? Oh, thank you. I'd really like to go, if I could. When
would we go?"
"Well, it all depends on whether they allow her any visitors. But I
promised Louanne that I'd take her after lunch. But only if Debbie's
doctors say it's alright."
"They have to. They just have to. I can't stand the thought if her
being there all alone."
"I think maybe you had better go home. I'll call you when I find
out if we will be allowed to see her. And besides, you aren't in any
shape to go to school today. So why don't you go home?"
"Yeah, I guess I should. But you won't forget to call me? You have
my number, don't you?"
"Yes, Thomas, I have it. And I promise I'll call you the moment I
know anything. Now, go on home."
Thomas thanked her again, and headed home. He hoped no one saw him,
as he continued to cry thinking about poor Debbie.

--- *** ---

Rodger hurried to Dale's house. He was still high after last night.
But he had to make sure the fucking fag didn't open his mouth. He
knocked on the front door, waiting for someone to answer. Dale's
mother came to the door.
"Good morning Rodger. How are you today?"
"Great, Mrs. B. Is Dale ready for school?"
"He's still in bed. The poor boy was up half the night, sick to his
stomach. I guess he picked up a flu bug, or something. He's still
quite pale this morning. I thought it would be best if he just rested
in bed today."
"That's too bad. I hope he gets better soon. Maybe I could see him
for a minute? See if he needs anything from his locker? I can pick up
his homework, and drop it off after school, if you'd like?"
"That would be great. You're always so considerate. Go on up, I'm
sure Dale would be happy to see you."
Rodger went up to Dale's room. Closing the door behind him, he
gazed at Dale. He was sleeping. Rodger walked quietly to the side of
the bed and reached out to touch his face.
Dale's eyes flew open in panic. Seeing Rodger, he tried to move
away.
"Not feeling to well this morning?" Rodger asked.
"Christ, Rodger, you scared the shit out of me. And no, I'm not
feeling well. My Mom thinks I should stay home."
"I `o too," Rodger said. "That way, I'll know you can't open your
fucking mouth and squeal."
"I wouldn't do that. Shit, if I did, they'd toss my ass in jail,
and throw away the key."
"Just remember that. And if that happens, I'll find away to kill
you. You keep your mouth shut and you have nothing to worry about."
"Honest, Rodger. I won't tell anyone."
"Good. I'll stop by after school to drop off your homework. And to
see how you're doing. And maybe we can talk about how you can put to
use what you learned last night. Think it's high time that bitch of
yours, Sandy, started putting out a little."
"Hey! Leave her out of this."
"Or you'll do what? Squeal? Go ahead. And after I kill you, I'll
still fuck your girlfriend. Bet she begs for it like the slut did last
night."
"Get out of here," Dale screamed. "You're fucking crazy!"
Rodger laughed. "Maybe you better remember that. Cause if I'm
really crazy, you know I'll do what I promise." Still laughing, he
went back down stairs.
"Well it looks as you two had a few laughs," Dale's mother said.
"I'm glad you took the time to cheer him up. But you better hurry if
you don't want to be late for school."
"Thanks, Mrs. B. I'll see you after school." Rodger continued to
laugh as he headed to school. He felt great.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Thomas' Story: Cumin' of Age" Chapter 27 - by T. F. Yank
Copyright © 1991, 1993 by DEH Enterprises. All Rights Reserved.
Permission is granted to distribute in electonic format, unaltered
and un-edited with this copyright statement intact. Hardcopies are
limited to single printing for private, non-profit use only.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

+-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+
| \*/ "I'd buy you a green dress, but not a |
| Flying Yank | real green dress. That's cruel." |
| --------- + 'If I had a million Dollars' |
| [email protected] / \ -- Bare Naked Ladies |
+-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-+
--
I will ignore all requests for: reposts, e-mailing parts, ftp/gif/archive
sites, and subscription requests. These stories get deleted immediately after
they are posted. For more info on the ARCHIVE postings, read the FAQ posted
bi-monthly to a.s.s.d. And don't send me chain mail- I'll notify your sysadmin.


 
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