By Richard Laymon
The grocery store should not have been close. It wasn't common for Elsie to give up early, or for the defend puppy to finish up like hamburger meat, or for Elsie herself to add at the butcher's slab, smartly wrapped and jointed. citizens of Oasis, like hotshot reporter Lacey Allen had greater watch out!
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Damn,” she muttered. Reaching up with her left hand, she slammed the trunk shut. The car rocked slightly with its impact. She remembered her torn undergarments on the front seat. Better pick them up. Stepping around the end of the car, she saw that the rear door jutted out an inch. Its lock button stood high. “My God,” Lacey said. She covered her mouth, and staggered backward. CHAPTER FIVE She refused to run. Back in the market, she had run and he’d taken her down from behind. It was a mistake she would not repeat.
But she’d had to make sure. She twisted around, sat down, and pulled her door shut. She locked it. With a glance to the right, she saw that the passenger door wasn’t locked. Stretching across the seat, she jabbed the button down with her forefinger. She checked the rear doors. Their lock buttons looked low and snug. She sighed. With a slick, sweaty hand, she rubbed the back of her neck. Then she pushed the key into the ignition, and started the car. A cigarette. She wanted a cigarette. A little treat for herself, an indulgence, a comfort that didn’t have to wait till she reached her home on the outskirts of town.
On either side were shelves of groceries: cans of soup and chili on the left, cookies and crackers on the right. Even without moving, she knew what had been done to her. She could feel the gritty, cool wood under her bare skin. She could feel hot areas where her skin had been mauled. Her nipples burned and itched. So did her vagina. She felt stretched and battered inside. Her eyes filled with tears. Raising her head, she looked down at herself. Her breasts were red as if they had been wrung. She saw teethmarks on both nipples.