POLICE STORY
"Crawl for us, girl," the chief said, and I did.
On hands and knees, stark naked, with bowed head,
Breasts swaying, long hair dragging on the floor,
I crawled before them. I, Priscilla Blake,
Successful young designer from New York,
Intelligent, sophisticated, sure
Of my ability to cope quite well
With any situation I might find.
I crawled for them until they said to stop.
They'd had me there four days by then. That's all,
Four days. It seemed forever. Life before
Was some hallucination. Oh, I knew.
I wasn't really crazy. In my mind
Some tiny point of sanity remained.
I wish it hadn't. It just made Hell real.
After I crawled they made me kiss the floor.
Flat on my stomach, arms and legs spread wide,
I placed my lips against the filthy wood
And kissed it like a lover, ardently,
Put out my tongue and licked it while they watched.
At their command I squirmed against it, rolled,
Humping my body, fucking the floor for them.
They laughed and chortled, but by now their glee
Was a bit forced. I think they had run out
Of ways to use me for their stimulation.
For four days they had raped me, constantly,
In every way they knew. And when that palled,
They thought up torments to amuse themselves.
Abuse and degradation were the means
By which they roused themselves, restored their passion
So they could take my body yet again.
But even that was insufficient now.
Vacation. I was heading south, alone,
To get some sun and think about my life.
In Georgia, such a pretty state, I thought,
A siren stopped me outside some small town.
They pulled me over. Where's the fire, they said.
I wasn't speeding, I protested. No?
Let's see your license, ma'am. From New York, huh?
Unfriendly types, the two of them. Again
I said I wasn't going all that fast.
"Out of the car, please." "Why? What's this about?"
"Just get out, ma'am. You people from up north
Think you can just come barreling through here
All hoity-toity--" "Wait a minute, I--"
"You carryin' some drugs?" "No! That's absurd."
"Yeah? Check the car out, Fred." I got annoyed.
"Now look, you can't just--" "Search the lady too."
The big one said. "We'll both search her." They grinned.
I started to protest, but then they had
Their hands all over me, patting me down,
Touching me insolently, lingering.
Infuriated now, I broke away.
"Leave me alone! Who do you think you are?
Cops or no cops, you can't just go around--
I'll have you up on charges, damn it!" "Hey,"
The big one said, "this little lady here
Is making trouble, Fred. Let's take her in.
I think the chief would like to see this one."
I didn't like the sound of it. I said,
"All right, look, let's not make a federal case.
Just let me get back in my car and go.
I won't exceed the speed limit, okay?"
"Forget it, lady. You just come with us."
They put me in their car and took me in.
The station. One big room, not very clean.
A desk, some chairs, and cells along the side.
The chief behind the desk. Two other cops.
The two that brought me made it five in all.
The chief was fat and smoked a fat cigar,
And scowled at us as we came through the door.
"We thought you oughta see this lady, chief,"
The big one said. "We stopped her north of town
For speeding, and she gave us lots of guff.
She's from New York," The other one chimed in:
"We think she might be carrying some drugs."
"Now look," I said. "This is ridiculous.
I don't use drugs, I wasn't speeding, and
You have no right to bring me here like this.
Chief, I'd appreciate it if you would
Instruct your men to let me go, okay?"
The chief took the cigar out of his mouth
And looked at me a moment; then his eyes
Went down my body, slowly, openly
Appreciating everything he saw,
And then, unhurriedly, back up again.
A little worm of fear began to crawl
Inside my belly, but I smothered it.
Although I didn't like the way his eyes
Probed through the sweater and the slacks I wore,
Or the half-leering faces of the cops,
I figured they might hassle me a bit
Or try to throw a scare into me, but
That would be it. They couldn't get away
With any more than that. Even down here.
"By god, she's got a mouth on her, all right,"
The chief said then. "But she's a looker, though.
From New York, huh? What brings you down this way?"
"I'm on my way to Florida," I said.
"I'm on vacation. Now--" "Florida, huh?"
The chief said. "Lotsa drugs down there, all right.
You in the drug trade, Blondie?" "Oh my god,"
I said, exasperated. "This is dumb.
Chief, listen, if I have to pay a fine
For speeding, okay, let me know how much,
I'll pay it and be on my way, all right?
You can't just keep me here, you know you can't."
"I can't, huh?" The chief stubbed out his cigar,
Stood up and came around his desk. "You know,
You Yankees, damn, you're all the same. You come
Down here, you think we're all a bunch of clowns.
Ignorant rednecks, not as good as you,
With your smart talk and hifalutin' ways.
Well, let me tell you something, girlie, that
Don't set too well with us. Not in my town.
Now you're in violation of the law,
And when we try to do our duty, you
Make trouble for us. That just makes me think
You're hiding something. And I'm not about
To let you get away with it, okay?
Did you boys search her car?" "Yeah, chief, we did,"
The big one said. "But there was nothing there.
We searched her purse, too, on the way in here."
"That was unconstitutional," I said.
"Oh, shit," the chief said. "Ain't that too damn bad.
Well now, I guess there's just one other place
You could be hiding drugs, wouldn't you say?"
"What do you mean?" The cops were snickering,
And I was getting really frightened now.
"I mean you must be carrying that stuff
Right on your body, lady," the chief said.
"It's a real pretty body, ain't it, boys?
And I think we just better check it out."
I stared at him, incredulous. "Now wait--"
"Shut up!" he said. "And skin out of them clothes."
I was so shocked I couldn't even move.
"What?" I said, dazed. "Are you--What did you say?"
"You heard me, girl. Take it all off. Right now."
"My god!" I gasped. "Are you out of your mind?
You can't do that! You can't just--Look, now look,
This is America, okay? I mean,
You need--you need a warrant, and you need..."
The chief stepped toward me. "Is that right?" he said.
"A warrant, huh? Well, I got one of them.
You want a warrent. Here it is!" And then
He punched me in the stomach with his fist.
I couldn't breathe. And I was on the floor.
Those were the first two things I realized
When I could think. My mind had just gone blank,
As though the blow had paralyzed my brain.
The shock was greater than the pain at first.
But there I was, the breath knocked out of me,
Lying there doubled over, on my side,
My hands clutching my stomach, and my mouth
Wide open, gulping frantically for air
Which my constricted lungs could not admit.
The cops just stood there watching me. At last
My throat eased up enough to let me breathe
In choking, gasping paraxysms. "There,"
I heard the chief say then. "How about that?
Is that a warrant good enough for you?
You gonna take your clothes off for us now?"
Blind rage swept over me, washing away
The pounding ache, the dizziness, the shock,
And also caution, wisdom, common sense.
It gave me strength to struggle to my feet,
Still panting hard, and swaying just a bit,
But braced by red-hot anger. "God damn you!"
I gasped, my voice like gravel in my throat.
"I don't know who the hell you think you are,
But you can't get away with this! My god,
You're crazy! You can't just--You have no right--
I'll see you go to prison! All of you!"
The chief just shook his head at me, and then
He hit me once again in the same place.
This time I really thought that I would die.
I twisted blindly on the floor, the waves
Of blackness closing over me. I knew
That I would never breathe again. Indeed,
I nearly did pass out before I forced
The first sweet choking breath into my lungs.
And even then I couldn't think or see,
Could only writhe and gasp and roll about,
My body pounding, and my brain a swamp.
I don't know how much time went by like that.
I know I'd only started to come back
To some awareness of myself, some dazed
Recall of what was happening to me,
And then I heard the chief's voice say, "Get up.
Come on, girl. Up. We haven't got all day.
Get on your feet." I tried. I really tried.
I got up to my knees, my hands and knees,
Panting and retching, weak in every limb,
My stomach one vast throb of pain; and there
I crouched, head hanging, waiting for the strength
To stand again. "Want me to help her, chief?"
The big cop said. He grabbed me by the hair
And pulled me up that way. I heard a shriek,
Then realized that it was me. My scalp
Felt like it was in flames, but I was on
My feet, staggering, moaning with the pain.
He let my hair go then, but grabbed my wrists
And pulled my arms up hard behind my back.
I shrieked again. I thought the bones would snap.
The cop just laughed and twisted harder, till
I went up on my toes to try to ease
The pressure, but of course to no avail.
"Stop! Don't!" I yelled. "Oh, Jesus! Let me go!"
"Shut up, girl," said the chief, and now he moved
To stand in front of me. "Just hold her there,"
He told the cop. "The lady's gotta learn
Respect for law and order. And I think
We're just the ones to teach her. Ain't we, boys?"
The others laughed, and now the big one turned
My wrists still more, which made me go all stiff,
My body arching outward painfully,
While gasps and cries came from my mouth. The chief
Grinned at me then, and put his black cigar
Between his teeth. At first I thought he meant
To hit me yet again. I shook my head
Reflexively in fear; but what he did
Was put his hands directly on my breasts.
I wished that I could spit at him, or kick
Him where he'd feel it most; but pain and fear
Disabled me completely now. "That's nice,"
The chief said, and he gave my breasts a squeeze.
I couldn't move; I couldn't do a thing
But moan and gasp and tremble with the pain.
"Please let me go!" I cried. "My arms! Oh god!"
"Now, girl, if you'd cooperate with us
We wouldn't have to hurt you," the chief said.
"We're trying to uncover evidence,
And you're obstructing justice. That's not right.
Now I am gonna ask you one more time,
Real nice and gentlemanly-like, to strip
Out of them fancy-looking duds, because
If we have to get really rough with you,
You aren't gonna like it." And with that
He squeezed my breasts as tightly as he could,
Clamping them brutally until I screamed.
And then he twisted. Smiling all the time.
Meanwhile the cop who held my arms had forced
Them to the breaking point. I couldn't stand
The pain, I'd never known there was such pain.
It filled me totally, it filled the world,
It conquered everything but agony,
And all I wanted was for it to stop.
"All right!" I screamed. "Oh stop! Oh Jesus, stop!"
I'll do it! Stop, I will, I will, oh please..."
I couldn't help myself, I just went on
Saying I would and begging them to stop.
Between my shrieks and whimpers, begging them,
Until they did. The chief, with one last squeeze,
Let go my breasts and stepped away from me.
"Okay, Norm, let her go," he said. "I think
The lady's ready to cooperate."
I felt the hands release my wrists. My arms
Fell to my sides, burning as though with fire.
My breasts throbbed terribly, my stomach ached,
And I was shaking uncontrollably.
The chief sat down behind his desk again
And lit a fresh cigar. The other cops
Were watching eagerly, their faces bright
With expectation. One, I saw, was young,
Younger than me, perhaps. It was absurd
That in my pain and fear I saw them now
More clearly than before. I think my mind
Was trying to escape, or to deny
The actuality. But not for long.
"Okay," the chief said. "Go ahead. Strip down."
It had to be a nightmare. I knew that.
This just could not be happening to me.
It wasn't possible, not in this world.
An hour ago I'd had a normal life.
A good life. I was twenty-three years old,
Was happy in my work, had a career,
A nice apartment in New York, good friends,
And though I'd had some problems lately with
The man that I'd been seeing, I believed
We'd work them out; and if not, I would find
Somebody else. I'd been about to spend
Two weeks in lovely idleness, and then
Go back to that nice, ordered, happy life.
So how could I have come so suddenly
To be trapped in this horror, in this place
Where no one knew or cared about my life,
Hurting all over, paralyzed with fear,
Wanting to beg for mercy from these men
Who looked at me with hatred and with lust,
Waiting for me to bare my body to
Their avid, gleaming eyes. Oh god, I thought,
Let me wake up. Oh, please let me wake up.
Please! But I didn't. And the chief barked, "Now!"
I couldn't move my arms. I moved my arms.
My head was spinning, and I felt my face
Flush foolishly with shame. It was so strange
That, flooded as I was with terror, and
The memory of what they'd done to me,
And knowing that they might do worse, I still
Felt ordinary shame at doing what
I knew I had to do; but there it was.
I couldn't look at them. My breath came hard
And fast, and suddenly I was aware
That I was whimpering. I stopped myself,
But couldn't slow my ragged breathing down.
I forced myself to move. I crossed my arms
In front of me and grasped my sweater's hem,
And then I pulled it up. Over my head
And off. And stood there holding it, until
The chief said, "Drop it, girlie." And I did.
I'd never felt so naked, even though
I still had my brassiere; but I could feel
Their eyes on me, those hard, devouring eyes,
And feel them waiting for me to go on.
Knowing, as I knew, that I had no choice.
I had to take my shoes off first before
My slacks could be removed. I had to bend
To get the laces open, and then pull
Them off, not very gracefully. Each move,
In my self-consciousness and shame, beneath
Those steady unrelenting stares, was like
One of those awful dreams where time slows down
And nothing happens properly. And then
I stood again, and opened up my slacks,
And pushed them down. My pantyhose went too.
They fell around my legs, and, awkwardly,
I kicked them off and stepped away from them,
And stood there in my panties and brassiere.
I tried to reason with them then. At least,
I meant to try. I knew it was no good,
But still I had to try. I meant to say
That they could see now, they could surely see
That I was not concealing any drugs,
Or anything, and if they'd let me go...
Some futile thing like that. But when I tried,
The words came out as gasping, broken sounds.
The chief knew what I meant, though. He just spat,
And then he said, "All of it. Every stitch."
I felt tears in my eyes. I felt my hands
Shaking as they reached up behind my back,
And fumbled with the little metal clasps.
And opened up the bra. And took it off.
Above the pounding in my ears I heard
The sounds they made, the little strangled moans,
The hisses through the teeth, the murmurings
Of lust and admiration; worst of all,
The smug, lubricious chuckle from the chief.
I kept my eyes upon the floor, and tried
To summon any strength I might have left
To finish up this forced self-degradation.
I tried to shut my mind to anything
Except the need to get it done; and though
I couldn't quite do that--although I still
Felt all the horror and the shame, so much
That I thought I might faint, or else be sick--
I somehow managed to go on. Somehow,
I pushed my panties down. Over my hips,
And down my thighs. And past my knees. And down.
I had to do a kind of little bow
To get them down and off. I felt my breasts
Swaying as I bent forward, felt their eyes
Licking at every movement. And at last
I straightened up and stood in front of them
Stark naked. Stood there naked. While they looked.
It seemed forever that I stood that way.
It just went on and on. And as it did
I felt the tears again. I blinked them back.
I didn't want to cry for them as well.
I also tried to shut my mind to thoughts
Of what would happen next. I guess I hoped--
Or wanted to--that this would be the end
Of it, that having got their kicks with me
By teaching me a lesson, making me
Grovel and strip for them, they wouldn't dare
Go any further, and would let me go.
But all the time I guess I really knew.
I stood there naked, and they looked at me.
And then at last the chief said, "Turn around.
Turn all the way around." And I did that.
And then he ordered me to walk. Just walk.
I thought I'd reached the limits of my shame,
That no humiliation could be worse
Than what I'd just experienced; but now
As I walked up and down in front of them,
Walked back and forth across the station house,
My body was ablaze from head to toe.
I couldn't help but be aware of how
My naked breasts were jiggling, or of how
My hips moved, and my buttocks, and my thighs...
I couldn't stop it; I could only walk
For their delight and delectation, till
The chief told me to stop. Please, god, I prayed,
Please let it stop now. Let it be the end.
And then the big cop said, "How 'bout it, chief?
We're hot as pistols here. Let's fuck this bitch!"
Fear hit me in the stomach, just as hard
As had the chief. The others now chimed in,
Their eager voices chorusing assent,
Like wolves. Like hounds. Like jackals at their prey.
And yet the chief was silent. Shaking now,
Fighting to keep hysteria at bay,
I forced myself at last to look at him.
And when I saw his face, the glinting eyes,
The smiling lips, the triumph in his gaze,
I knew that I was going to be raped.
I had to just stay calm. I had to think,
To deal with the situation. How?
I knew I couldn't reason with them now.
They were beyond persuasion, and beyond
The reach of pleas, or logic, even if
I could have brought my mind to manage it.
Should I fight, struggle, kick and scratch and bite,
Resist with all my strength? Of course I should.
Of course it would be futile. Five of them.
They were too many and too strong for me.
They'd just take what they wanted; hold me down
And take me, laughing as I fought with them,
And probably enjoy it all the more.
Or should I just give in, go limp, accept
What surely had to happen, let them use
My body for their stupid little lusts,
And hope it wouldn't be too bad? And that
When they were finished they would let me go,
And I could try to go on with my life,
Try to forget this day, like a bad dream.
Could I do that? And then the chief spoke up.
"You hear that, girl?" he said. "You got these guys
All hot and bothered with your little strip.
They want to fuck you. And I gotta say
I'd like to take a crack at you myself.
Now if you're real nice to us, and do
Just what we say, we'll all have a good time,
And then you can go on your merry way.
But if you give us trouble, girl, by god,
We'll make you sorry you were ever born.
You hear me, girl?" I forced myself to nod.
Just let them get it over with, I thought,
Just let me get away from here, that's all.
The chief got up and came around his desk
And once again came close to me. "Yes, sir,"
He said. "We're gonna have all kinds of fun
With you, you snot-nosed bitch. And first of all
I want that Yankee mouth of yours. Oh yeah,
You're pretty handy with that mouth, all right,
Telling us Southern hicks where to get off.
Well, now I want to see that mouth around
My Southern dick. I want to see it suck
Me and my boys, real humble-like, to show
You've learned your lesson now. Get on your knees."
I hadn't been prepared for that. I'd thought
That they'd just take me, and I'd nerved myself
To let it happen--almost, anyway.
But this was something else, and I was thrown.
Before I had a chance to think, I heard
Myself say, "No. Oh no!" I didn't know,
Right then I didn't know, if it was shock
That made me say it, or defiance. Or
Some combination. It came out, that's all.
I wanted to say something else--but what?
And then I was too frightened. The chief's face
Got very hard, his eyes got very small,
And when he spoke, his voice came out so low
That he was almost whispering. "By god,"
He said. "You fancy smart-ass Northern whore!
I thought you'd learned your place. But I guess not.
I guess it's gonna take a little taste
Of real punishment to break you down
And make you learn respect for the police.
By Christ, before we're through with you, you'll beg
To suck our cocks. Or do anything else
We tell you to. I'm gonna see you crawl.
You understand me, girl? I'm gonna hear
You tell us how you love the cops, and what
A filthy fucking low-down slut you are,
Not good enough to eat our shit. You hear?"
I couldn't speak. I was so scared, I think
I might have broken down right then, and said
I'd do it, I was sorry... But again,
Behind the fear, behind the shame and pain,
There surged such boiling anger, such contempt,
Such hatred for the animals they were,
That even then I might have held my ground,
Such as it was. But no words came, and now
The chief was saying, "Put this damn bitch up
Against the bars, and cuff her good and tight.
A little rubber hose will make her dance,
And take that piss and vinegar right out.
She'll get real docile, you can take my word."
Now I was really frightened. "Wait--" I said.
But that was all I said before two cops,
The big one and the one who looked so young,
Each grabbed an arm, and pulled me over to
The steel-barred cells on one side of the room.
"No! No! Oh no!" I yelled. It was as though
They didn't hear me. A third cop produced
A pair of handcuffs; and they raised my arms.
One reached up high to pass the cuffs around
One of the bars, above an iron brace
That ran across; and then they cuffed my wrists
And left me standing there against the bars,
My arms pulled up, my body stretched, my feet
Just barely resting on the wooden floor.
The cuffs were tight around my wrists; the pull
Was terrible. I coudn't raise myself
Enough to ease the tension on my arms.
The steel bit deep into my flesh. I pressed
Myself against the bars, but nothing helped.
"Looks good," I heard the chief's voice say. "By god,
That's one sweet-looking trussed-up bitch. Okay,
Teach her a lesson, Norm. And make it good!"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw
The big cop getting something from a drawer.
Fearfully, painfully, I turned my head
To see him holding it. A rubber hose.
A wicked-looking, thin and whippy length
Of ordinary hose. Of course I'd read
In books, and heard on television, how
The cops used rubber hoses to beat up
The crooks, to force confessions out of them,
Because it hurt like hell and left no marks.
But this was real life! And this was me!
They surely didn't really mean to use
That thing on me. To beat me! Even now,
After what I'd been through, and even hung
The way I was, it seemed impossible.
Incredible! I couldn't take it in;
My mind would not accept it. But the cop
Moved now to stand behind me, and the room
Got very still. I heard him take a breath,
Then give a grunt. I heard a rustling sound,
And then there was a loud, sharp cracking noise
As that hard rubber smashed across my back.
Oh dear sweet Jesus no. Oh please god no.
It couldn't be like this, it couldn't be.
No one could bear such agony, no one
Could give or take such pain, not in this world.
I knew that I was screaming, and I knew
That I was twisting uncontrollably,
Writhing and flailing up against the bars.
I knew it in some corner of my mind.
The rest of me was horror. Black and deep
And filled with unimaginable pain.
And in that corner of my mind I heard,
Above my screams, the chief's voice saying, "See?
I told you she would dance for us. Just look
At our fine stuck-up Northern lady now.
You learning, girl? You got some smart remarks
You want to make? You want to tell us how
We can't do this to you? No, I guess not.
Give her some more, Norm, so she won't forget."
No! my whole being shouted, Jesus, no!
I shrieked it out. They only laughed at me.
And then they watched as Norm whipped me again,
Slamming the rubber hose across my flesh,
And turning me before their eyes into
A helpless, twisting, yelling mass of pain.
I thought I would pass out; I hoped I would.
Anything just to make it stop. But no.
I suffered every moment, even when,
At the chief's orders, Norm did it again.
And then again. And then again. And then...
Now the chief stood close by me as I hung
From my abraded wrists, without the strength
Even to stand up straight. His hand caressed
My tender back, gently yet with a threat
Behind the moving fingers; and he spoke
In the same way. He asked me if I thought
I'd learned my lesson now. And I said yes.
My answers came in choking, heaving gasps
Between my moans and sobs. And then he asked
If I was reeady now to suck their cocks.
And I said yes. He made me say that twice.
And then he asked, would I do everything
They told me to, no matter what it was,
From that time on--no arguments, no crap,
Just pure, unquestioning obedience,
The way a good girl should. Or else, he said,
He'd have to turn me round, and let old Norm
Take one or two good whacks across my tits.
I said I would do anything. I begged
Him not to hurt me any more. No more,
I said, please god, no more, I'll do it, yes...
And then he said he'd like to hear me say
How much I loved the cops. And so I did.
Over and over. Yes, I love the cops,
I love the cops, I do, I love the cops...
"That's very good," the chief said. "Hell, I think
We've tamed the little bitch. How 'bout it, Norm?"
And Norm said, "Shit, I'd like to lay this thing
Across her tits, just once. And see if I
Could flatten out those nipples." "What the hell,"
The chief said. "Might as well make sure she don't
Forget too quick." He grasped my by the hips
And turned me so my back was to the bars.
I begged. I cried. I babbled in my fright,
Pleading with all of them. They only grinned.
I was so scared I lost control, and peed,
The liquid spattering the wooden floor.
They thought that was hilarious. But then
The laughter died as Norm swung back his arm,
Took careful aim, and then with all his strength
Whipped the hose savagely across my breasts.
Someone unlocked the cuffs, and when I fell
I went down to my knees, and there I stayed.
I would have fallen further, but the chief
Held me up by my hair, and said, "Now that's
Just perfect, girl. You stay right there, you hear?"
And then he let me go, and all my will
Went into keeping myself kneeling there,
Just as he wanted. Then the chief unzipped
His trousers, and through blurry eyes I saw
His penis, thick and purple-veined and hard,
In front of me. "Now suck me, girl," he said.
"Show me how smart-ass Northern ladies suck.
Show me real good." His stiffness brushed my lips.
I opened up my mouth and took him in.
And then I sucked him. And I did my best
To make it good. They'd tamed me, as he said.
Through pain and fear, reduced me to a slave.
They mustn't whip me any more, that's all
I knew. My degradation was complete.
No violation, no defilement
Would be too great, because obedience
Was all that would allow me to avoid
That rubber hose, that horrid agony
That still possessed my body and my mind.
And so I sucked the chief until he came,
Obedient to all of his commands
Concerning tempo, pressure, use of tongue...
And when he ordered me to swallow it
I did that too, although I had to gag.
But still I got it down. The others now
Lined up in front of me. I sucked them all.
I sucked them, and I swallowed. By the time
I'd finished off the last of them, the chief
Was ready once again. "By god," he said,
"I'm gonna fuck the daylights out of you,
You Yankee whore. And so are all my boys."
And then he made me lie down on the floor
And spread my legs for him. And I did that.
And then he stripped, and got on top of me,
And put himself inside me, and I think
That I was crying, and my punished back
Was mercilessly pressed against the floor,
And then the chief was taking me, his face
Twisted with pleasure, obscene triumph, joy
In my defeat, his little eyes agleam,
His foul breath like a bellows in my face.
"You sweet-cunt bitch," he gasped. "You fuck me back.
You put those arms and legs around me, hear?
And move that body, like the slut you are."
And everything he said to do, I did.
And then he came. And then the other cops
Took me in the same way. All four of them.
And then at last they rested for a while.
But not for long. They didn't need much time
Before they were aroused again. Meanwhile
They played with me, as though I were a toy.
They stroked and felt and pinched and slapped and probed,
And made me turn and twist and arch myself
For their convenience and delight. They squeezed
My aching breasts until they made me scream,
Which they enjoyed enormously. And then
They made me tell them what a bitch I was,
A filthy whore, a piece of shit, a cunt,
And any other names that came to mind.
Of course I said it all. And by this time
They were prepared to take me once again.
Again the chief was first. He wanted me
To get on top this time. "You fuck me, girl,"
He said. "You do the work. I'll just lie back
And tell you how I like it, hear?" And so
I got on top of him, and put him in,
And fucked for him. He told me how to move,
He mauled my breasts, he pinched my nipples, slapped
My thighs, and then at last he came. Of course
The others had to have it the same way.
Then, while I was on top of one of them,
Another one stepped over him, and grabbed
My hair and made me take him in my mouth
And suck him while I fucked. And after that
They came at me in twos, and even threes,
Because after a while they began
To use my ass as well. It hurt so much,
I thought I couldn't stand it. But I did,
Because the hose was worse. I just hung on
And tried to make my mind a blank, and hoped
That they would finish soon, and let me go.
It didn't work that way. They kept me there
Throughout the day, and through the evening too.
And when they couldn't rape me any more,
They locked me in a cell, still naked, and
Amused themselves with taunts and lewd remarks
And promises of what was still to come.
I pleaded with them then to let me go.
I had done everything they asked, I said.
They'd broken me, they'd had their fun, now please,
Please let me go, I said. They only laughed
And said I hadn't seen anything yet.
A dread came over me; I wondered if
They ever meant to set me free at all,
Or if they meant to keep me there until
They'd used me up, and then dispose of me.
My fear grew stronger when they sent for food
And didn't give me any. Hungry dogs
Make better pets, the chief said. And they laughed.
In time, of course, the call of nature grew
So strong, I asked to use the john. They said
I had to use the toilet in the cell.
Rather than that, I tried to just hold out,
Until I couldn't stand it any more,
And then I begged them, but it was no use.
And so I used the toilet in the cell,
While they all watched, enjoying this new shame.
And then their shift was over, and I thought,
Oh god, will they release me now at last?
But no. They weren't selfish, they explained.
They'd let the night shift have their turn with me.
The night shift was three men. One middle-aged,
Two young. They couldn't have been happier
To find me there, naked, available,
Theirs for the night. The day boys told them how
I'd gotten there, and how I'd learned respect
For law and order, and how good I was,
And how if I should give them any crap
The rubber hose was right there in the drawer,
And then went home. It wasn't long before
The night shift tried me out. First one by one,
And then all three. And then throughout the night,
Whenever any of them felt like it.
I didn't give them any crap. I did
Just what they said. All night. And in between
I got some shreds of sleep, but not for long.
Next day the first shift came around again
And raped me with new vigor for a while.
But as the day wore on, it seemed to pall
For them. The novelty was wearing off.
At lunchtime, when they had their food sent in,
I begged again, I was so hungry now.
This time they gave me food, but on their terms.
They threw it on the floor, and made me crouch
On hands and knees, and eat it like a dog.
I was too starved to care about the dirt.
And then they cuffed my hands behind my back
And made me kneel, and tossed the food at me.
I had to try to catch it in my mouth,
And what I didn't catch got thrown away.
These entertainments perked them up again,
But only temporarily. And then
They started bringing in some other men.
Just trusted friends, of course. They brought them in
And showed me off to them. They got a kick
From watching their expressions as they saw
My nakedness, and as they heard the treats
They had in store. They also got a kick
At seeing how I hated it, and how
The shame and degradation was like new
With each new man. They knew I wanted to
Object, refuse, tell them to go to hell.
They knew I wouldn't. They made me perform
For all their friends. Made me do everything.
And I performed. That evening they brought in
A prisoner, a black man they'd picked up
For loitering, a drunken derelict,
And made me fuck him too. They thought it was
The worst thing they could do to me, the height
Of cruelty, to have me make it with
A nigger, as they said. I didn't care
That he was black; what bothered me was that
He was so filthy, and he smelled of beer
And sweat and urine. And he was so drunk
He couldn't get aroused. They made me suck
On him until he did, at last. And then
They made me fuck him lovingly, and kiss
His drunken mouth, and urge him on, until
I'd coaxed a kind of climax out of him.
I did it all. They put him in my cell,
In case he wanted me again, they said.
It would be better when he sobered up.
But in the morning they just let him go.
The night shift played some games with me as well.
They had a contest, to see which of them
Could last the longest as I used my mouth
On each of them in turn. They made me suck
Them steadily; I couldn't stop or pause,
Just suck them on and on until they came.
And each of them held out heroically,
Because they had agreed the winner was
To have me for himself exclusively
The whole night long. I didn't care who won.
With each one I began mechanically,
But as it just went on and on, without
The chance to rest, until my mouth was sore,
I would become so tired that I would try,
With lips, with tongue, with teeth, with everything,
To make him come, to get it over with.
My efforts brought a lot of lewd remarks
About how much I loved it after all,
But still they kept me at it endlessly.
The middle-aged one lasted half an hour.
He was the winner. And I was surprised
At how soon he recovered, and at how
His stamina returned throughout the night.
The envy of his watching buddies seemed
To give him further strength. But finally
Near morning he relented, giving them
The chance to take their pleasure once again
On my exhausted body. Which they did.
Then, on the third day, they brought in the dog.
I wouldn't do it. I was sure of that.
I couldn't possibly. Till then I'd thought
That there was nothing that I wouldn't do,
No depths to which they couldn't make me sink
In order to avoid that hell of pain
And torment, which I knew they might revive
At any time. But this was something else.
They'd broken me, they'd made of me a slave,
A plaything, and a spectacle. But now
They wanted me to be an animal,
A creature even lower than themselves.
It was too much. I shook with fear, and yet
I couldn't bring myself to such pure filth,
Such utter degradation, even if
They whipped me till their arms dropped off, or till
They'd beaten me unconscious. Even dead.
I didn't care; I drew the line. Kill me,
I said, but I won't do it. I just won't.
And so they put me down across the desk,
The chief's big desk, and spread my arms and legs,
With one cop at each corner holding down
A wrist or ankle; and they pulled me tight.
And then the chief stood over me, and drew
Deeply on his cigar to make it glow,
And tapped the ashes off onto my face,
Then brought it down and placed the tip against
My nipple, and then ground it out. I screamed
More loudly than I'd ever screamed before,
Screamed horribly, and tried to pull away,
Twisting and heaving, but they held me fast.
And then the chief lit up a new cigar.
He did it leisurely, taking his time,
Letting me watch. I screamed again, before
He'd even got it going, and I tried
To plead, or something. Anything. But all
That I could say was, "No! No! NO, OH NO!"
And as he lowered that cigar I tried
With futile frenzy to escape, to break
The stubborn holds on arms and legs, to sink
Through the unyielding wood. I writhed and squirmed.
My head rolled wildly from side to side.
And the chief laughed, and said, "Now hold her, boys."
And pressed the tip against my other breast.
I don't know how I kept from passing out.
God knows I wanted to. I knew I must
Go crazy otherwise. And then the chief
Lit up again. "No! Don't" I yelled. "No more!
I'll do it! Please! I'll do it, god, I will!
I will!" "I know you will," he said. "Hell, girl,
I never doubted that." And then he ground
The thing into my navel. After that
He let two others have a turn at me,
While he pinned both my wrists above my head.
The other two used cigarettes. They burned
My thighs, my belly, and my breasts again.
Over and over. While I screamed and screamed,
And said I'd do it, I would fuck the dog,
I'd do it all they wanted, just please stop,
Oh god please stop, no more, oh please god no,
I swear I'll do it, stop, oh Jesus please...
And finally the chief said, "Hear that, boys?
I think she really wants to fuck the dog.
Is that right, girl? Well then, you ask us nice.
Ask us to let you do it. Beg for it.
And then we'll maybe let you. Don't stop, boys."
They didn't stop. "NO! Oh please, NO!" I shrieked.
"Please let me do it! Let me fuck the dog!
Please let me fuck the dog! Oh please, oh please
God, let me fuck the dog! No more! NO MORE!
I'm begging, god, don't hurt me any more.
I want to fuck the dog, I'm begging, please..."
After a while they stopped and let me go,
And pushed me off the desk onto the floor.
And then I fucked the dog.
The dog was big
And black and smooth, and dribbled from his mouth.
They put me on my hands and knees, and led
The dog to me, and let him sniff around.
And then he mounted me. I felt his paws
Dig sharply at my flesh, another drop
In the consuming sea of agony
That was my body. Then I felt his thing
Probing at me. The cops helped him at first
To find the spot. And then he was inside.
A dog was fucking me. It didn't take
Him very long; his thrusts were short and quick,
He whined and growled and dribbled on my neck,
And then he came. They pulled him off me then.
But still they weren't through. They wanted me
To use my mouth on him. They held him down
And spread his legs for me. My stomach churned.
I might have made some kind of noise. The chief
Just smiled, and drew on his cigar. And so
I sucked the dog. I took him in my mouth
And sucked him till he came. And when he did
They made me swallow it. Then I threw up.
They laughed at that, and then had a debate
On whether they should make me eat the stuff
Right off the floor, or simply clean it up.
They compromised. They had me use my hair
To mop it up with. And when I'd done that,
They made me suck the dog some more, and kept
Me at it till I'd got him hard again.
And then they let him fuck me one more time.
They let me take a shower after that.
The first time I had washed since I'd arrived.
They stayed with me, of course. I washed my hair
As best I could, and though the water hurt
My bruised and blistered body, still I tried
To scrub myself as clean as possible.
They didn't let me take too long. I guess
The session with the dog, and burning me,
Had got them hot. The went at me again.
My flesh where they had burned me was so sore
That every touch was agony. Of course
My howls and shrieks aroused them even more.
They just went on relentlessly, until
They'd had their fill; and then they put me back
Into my cell and left me to myself
Till evening; but when the night boys came on
They told them all about the dog; and then
Of course, they had to see me do it too.
The fourth day they began to tire of me,
I think. They couldn't even rouse themselves
To rape me any more. They made me do
Some tricks for them--it still gave them a kick
To find new ways to show their power, and
To force me to degrade myself. That's when
They made me crawl for them, and kiss the floor,
And hump it like a lover. After that
They had me lie down on my back, and spread
My legs, and masturbate for them. Until
I came. I didn't think that I could come
After what I'd been through, and Jesus knows
I didn't want to, not in front of them.
It was astonishing to me that I
Could feel humiliation, even now.
I thought of faking it, but didn't have
The energy or will. And so I just
Did what they said to do, played with myself,
Probed my vagina, stroked my clitoris.
Numbly at first. I felt nothing but shame
And everlasting pain, and anger at
Their idiotic grins and ribald jokes.
But still I did it. And as I went on--
Waiting for them to tire of this as well
And let me stop--in spite of everything,
I felt the tension starting. No, I thought,
I won't. For god's sake, no. And yet it grew.
My breath came fast. They knew, they saw it now.
They wouldn't let me stop. They made me work
Still faster. Until, hating it, I came
In helpless paroxysms, while they watched.
And then I cried. Because they'd broken me
So thoroughly. They'd ground me into dirt.
And I was nothing any more. I knew,
And so did they. So then they let me go.
Not right away, of course. They raped me first,
One final time. And then I had to sign
A paper one of them typed up. It said
That I had been arrested legally
For smuggling drugs; that since they'd had no proof,
They'd let me go; and that there had been no
Undue coercion or constraint involved.
This was insurance, the chief said, in case
I thought of making trouble for them. And
I signed it. All I wanted was to get
Away from there. But still they weren't done.
The chief had one more trick for me to do.
Just one last test, he said, to show them all
What a low, filthy whore I really was.
He took a large glass tankard from his desk,
The kind of mug that's used for drinking beer,
And then he urinated into it.
When he had finished, he passed it along
To the big cop, who did the same; and then
The others, one by one, received the glass,
Each emptying his bladder into it.
When they were done, the thing was almost full.
The chief retrieved it carefully, and then
He handed it to me. "Now, girl," he said,
"You drink that. Every drop of it, you hear?
Drink it all down, just like it was champagne.
And if you keep it down I'll let you go.
But by god, you throw up and you'll be here
Until you're old and gray. You understand?"
I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
Sickened and scared, all I could do was nod.
He spat into the mug, and then stepped back
To watch me. They all watched me, as I stood,
Stark naked, as I'd been for four days now,
Holding the monstrous glass of reeking piss,
Trying to keep my hands from shaking, so
I wouldn't spill it. Just the smell of it
Was nauseating, and I didn't see
How I could take even a drop. But then
I thought about the cigarettes, the hose,
The things they'd made me do. I took a breath,
And held it. And I raised the mug. And drank.
I gagged; but still I forced myself to choke
The foul stuff down as quickly as I could.
I had to pause for breath, and to control
My churning stomach and my retching throat.
Three or four times I nearly vomited,
But desperately managed to hold back.
There was so much of it! But then at last
I finished off the glass. I was so sick
That I still wasn't sure I had the strength
To keep it down. I sank down to my knees,
Clutching myself, taking great gulps of air.
It took some time before I felt secure
Enough to stand again, and even then
I wasn't certain. But the cops were through
With me at last. They found the clothes I'd worn
And threw them at me; and I dressed myself
In front of them, as quickly as I could.
And then they actually let me go.
They opened up the door, and I walked out.
They'd had my car brought in, and there it was,
And I got into it and drove away.
It was unreal. I was in a kind
Of trance. I couldn't feel anything.
I drove numbly, mechanically, although
I was extremely careful not to go
Too fast. I didn't have the least idea
Of which direction I was headed in,
Or even where I meant to go. I just
Drove on, wanting to get away, that's all.
I left the town behind with great relief,
And just kept going, in that dream-like way.
About ten miles away from town, I saw,
Coming the other way, a car with lights
On top. A police car. And suddenly
I started shaking uncontrollably.
I clutched the wheel hard, and shook and shook.
The car passed by; but still I couldn't stop.
I shook so hard my teeth were chattering,
And finally I had to stop my car
Beside the road. I sat there shivering,
And then I started crying helplessly.
Then I was sick. I got out just in time
And knelt beside the car and vomited
Over and over, in great wracking heaves.
And when I got back in, I still went on
Crying and shaking. I don't know how long.
But it was dusk before I had the will
To start again. I drove on through the night.
But not till morning did I realize
That I was driving north. I didn't care.
I just went on until I reached New York.
And I went home. And stayed there. For a while
I couldn't eat, or sleep, or even bathe.
I'd lost the will to function. Then of course
It came back, sort of. But not like before,
Because that numbness never went away.
Something was dead inside me, and I knew
That I would never be the same again.
I didn't bother to go back to work.
Friends called me up; some of them came around;
But I soon put a stop to that. And then,
After a time, when I'd no money left,
I had to get some kind of job; and so
I found the one thing I knew I could do.
So that's my story. Did it turn you on?
I thought it would. That's why I told it. Oh,
It's true, all right. It's absolutely true.
It was three years ago, and everything
Was just the way I told it. Anyway,
You're ready now. Another fifty bucks
And you can go again with me, okay?
You want to see me fuck the dog, it's more.
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