A high wind sent the dark clouds scurrying across the night sky, reeling across the heavens, obliterating the moon at intervals. It was a warm wind and the rain stayed away.
That was the kind of night that was in it, as BoBo set out along the road. BoBo was up to no good as she hit the road on this wild and dark and windy night. There was a faraway look in her eyes. It was a look, too, of want, a look of longing. She was out for divilment and her tail was up. Oh, yes! BoBo was out for divilment and her tail was up as she hit the road. Never before had she had a premonition as convincing as she was experiencing on this night.
Even before she rounded the bend on the road, she knew. Some inner feeling told BoBo that tonight was to be the night, and then suddenly, even before she rounded the bend, the unmistakable trace of cigarette smoke reached her. It floated past her in the gale. She quickened her pace and headed towards it, up there around the turn, in the blackness up ahead.
The night was as clear as the moon which now and then lit up the land for a few seconds as its light broke through the racing clouds. There, at the same gate as she had met with Donal Moran earlier, look! Look up there! There it was again, the bright glow of a cigarette being drawn on. It was going to be on this night of high wind and darkness. Just for an instant, she hesitated and slowed her pace, but only for the briefest of seconds, for almost immediately, she bent her steps again purposefully in the direction of the glowing spark up ahead of her at the gate. Could it be that this person ahead knew of her approach? Could it be the same Donal Moran she had met earlier and left in no doubt what she was after? At the thought of him, a wave of excitement welled up inside her.
As she moved towards the lighted cigarette, her heartbeat quickened. From the position of the glow, she calculated the man – she presumed it was a man – to be inside and partly hidden behind the thickest of blackthorn bushes which had been allowed to grow unhindered at the edge of the field as a windbreak for cattle.
One thing she knew for certain. It was a man who was up there. He would know she was coming towards him and he would wait, wait for BoBo. It was what she wanted. Everything told her, her mind, her body, and her aches and pains all told her that it was intended for her. It was to be this very night. She wasn’t going to pass it up.
From a distance, she called out to him, but he didn’t reply. She knew he would wait. She was being drawn to him like a magnet and, tonight, she knew it was going to be all right.
Eagerly, she approached him.
“You’re out late like meself.”
The clouds parted then just for a fleeting second and as the moon shone its auricular light down upon them, in that transitory moment, she could tell he was an enormously tall man, angular and lean. He wore a peaked cloth cap pulled down tightly over his forehead, face and large aquiline nose.
The gate was ajar and, without further invitation, she went through the gap and walked over to where he stood tall, lean, strong, and silent beneath the bushes close to the ditch.
She had never seen any man quite so tall and was dominated both by his silence as well as his great height. She had a desire to touch him. Raising her hand, she laid it on his shoulder. She had to stretch upwards because of his height, and was about to put a question to him when he audibly spat the cigarette butt out the side of his mouth and placed an enormous open hand on her face and patted her left cheek.
He didn’t say anything, just put his open hand on her face and stroked her cheek. In that instant, she had an apprehension as his hand caressed her face and he look at her in silence – he might be a man of extreme mood swings, even of violence, if it should become necessary to assert his will.
Now with added firmness, the stranger tapped her cheek again with the flat of his hand, causing her to withdraw a step. Notwithstanding, he persisted in striking her a further number of light taps. They didn’t exactly hurt her. She didn’t feel soreness or pain, rather her cheek began to smart and she fitfully grabbed his hand and began kissing it.
Suddenly, he seized her about the waist, at the same time swinging her around and pulling her backwards into him, pinning her arms in front of her by the vice-like grip of one enormous hand. Still, he spoke not a syllable as he moved his other hand across her body and over her breasts, around her waist and down the length of her legs and back to her breasts again. All the while, he was pulling her backwards into him and rubbing his beard stubble against her face and neck. She thrilled to the power and warmth of his body leaning across her back and shoulders. Sometimes, his chin rested on her head but, all the while, he held her in a grip of frenzied control.
BoBo would take on anyone, for she was afraid of neither man nor beast. For a woman of such slight build, her physical strength was exceptional. Now, she was powerless in the hands of this compelling giant.
He forced his rough beard along the side of her face again and it hurt her. She averted her face but his stubble found it again. His weight increased causing her to yield. His hands were underneath her skirts and, suddenly, he struck her three or four raps with the flat of his hand along her thighs. His lips pressed hard against her ear which seemed to explode as his guttural voice spoke.
“I know what you like. First time, I saw you I could tell the way it was you wanted it. And I’m going to give it to you that way.”
This enormous man could do as he please with her. She was a rag doll in his hands, and like a rag doll he now lifted her off the ground and planted her facing the gate, hidden to the right by the thicket of bushes. She wondered about the view to their left, should a passing motorist catch sight of them. BoBo didn’t give a damn one way or another. He too glanced apprehensively to the left. BoBo noted that and wondered if it was significant.
He pushed her hands onto one of the lower rungs of the gate, forcing her to bend at the waist but keeping her legs upright and slightly apart, her back taking his weight.
“Don’t you let go of there.”
His voice came across to her as tense and commanding in a manner which brooked no argument.
She felt his hands explore freely beneath her skirts; he tore at her underwear and ripped off her pants. They fell down around her ankles. His teeth were gripping into her shoulder. There was an ache in her hands and legs from the weight pressing relentlessly down on top of her.
It was going to happen to her. For the first time in her life, it was going to happen to her there and then, standing by this wrought iron field gate.
His excitement and anticipation came through to her as he began opening his trousers. All that concerned her now was that, in her eagerness, she might do or fail to do something which needed to be properly executed, and if not might prevent him having his will with her.
If only she could relieve the ache in her hands and legs from the weight of him, to ease the pressure, an imperceptible shifting of the hands and the position.
“Stand quiet, yeh bitch.” She wasn’t afraid of him. “I told yeh to stand, yeh bitch.” There was a dark threat behind the words. No doubt, this man would strike her if he had to, so she made no response.
“If yeh move again I’ll kill yeh, yeh bitch.”
Forcibly, he thrust her legs further apart.
His teeth were fixed to her shoulder again. His stubble of beard rubbed along her face. Without any regard for her maidenhood, inexperience or youth, he suddenly drove up into her from behind. She let out a scream of shock and alarm and agony as he violently sundered her virginity. His grip tightened and his weight bore further down on her as he thrust up into her with rapid strokes, the while he bucked and cursed and shouted like some mad dog wolf stripping its teeth for a death struggle.
“Yeh’ll kill me,” she screamed at him in agony,
“If yeh let go o’ that gate, be Jasus but I’ll kill yeh.”
He shifted his position so that, now, it was as though he had mounted her and straddled her in a sitting position and yet held her up at the same time, but there was no let up from his demonic frenzy. She tried to move but found she couldn’t because of the way he was now straddled across her. Now, she was being belted against the gate.
She screamed curses into the night air, as she found a strange feeling of passion begin to overwhelm her. Her grip broke and she fell beneath him. He threw himself on top of her and, wrapping himself around her, bucked and cursed her as she lay under him on the ground. Then slowly, slowly she was being transported and she screamed again louder as her head seemed to burst and she was overwhelmed with joy.