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NONONO hurt lot even through the


Keywords: rp, satire
Author: W R Jenkins
Title: Please! Plaease! No No

Please, Please--No No!
Disclaimer: I don't think this is arousing. I am
shocked and saddened that things like this occur. I
don't think any normal person will be aroused by
this. It is only a record of the sometimes terrible
ordeals that have to be endured in this world.
Marcie R.- I may have had a little too much to drink at the frat
party. It seems like drinking to excess is the point of those parties and
there is always a frat brother handing you more alcohol. I was a little
woozy when I stumbled down the steps to go back to the dorm.
I was feeling pretty good, besides being drunk, no one had
seriously tried to rush me up to their room and I had had a good time. I
decided to take 'Endless Alley' back to the dorm since I wouldn't have
to stumble as far to get home. I had heard the stories, but my fear level
was way down in my drunken state.
And I found out the stories are true. I had stumbled over to puke
in a dumpster when I was grabbed from behind. I don't think it was a
college kid because he was too practiced.
"Listen, missy, don't struggle and you won't get hurt," he rasped
in a hard-to-identify whisper.
He pushed me to my knees and then used one hand between my
shoulderblades to pin me to the ground as he ripped off my underwear.
He never let me turn around and I never even saw his face.
He wrapped a forearm around my neck and bent over my back
to push his penis in me and then he fucked me brutally. I think he
sensed I was in no condition to struggle, because he let up on me with
his arm a little. But he must have just been disappointed at my
I finally did puke as he raped me and he jerked his arm out of
my way and pushed me down into my own vomit. Then he decided he
had found a way to make me fight him.
"You like that, don't you? I can tell you're a hot momma," he
whispered and I felt him leave my vagina.
He got his struggle when he pushed his member against my
anus. I didn't let anyone dishonor me that way. I didn't think I'd like it
and I didn't. It hurt a lot even through the haze of alcohol and I felt
shamed, dirty, used. I begged and fought, but he was too strong and he
pushed it in and hurt me I could feel the tearing and the blazing pain,
but I couldn't do anything but cry.
His final insult came when he finished, just before he sprang up
and ran off.
"Hey babe- you're great. I'd like to see you again," he rasped.
I sobbed for a while before I pulled up my torn underwear and
dragged my torn body to my feet. I wasn't drunk anymore. The terror of
the rape had sobered me right up. But I was raped once more that night.
When I went to the school nurse, she looked at my vomit-stained blouse
and puffy face and frowned.
She treated me like I was the bad guy instead of the victim. She
tried to get me to admit I had gone too far with a frat boy and now was
trying to recover my reputation by crying rape. She implied I was too
drunk to know what really happened and then told me she didn't have
any way to tell if I'd been raped, anyway. I'd have to take the bus into
town- they only ran hourly this time of night- and go to a hospital if I
was going to persist in this course of action. And she warned me how
much trouble I could get in by making a false report.
After that second rape of the night, I was too humiliated to go
on. I went back to the dorm, took off my blood-stained, semen-smeared
clothes and just sat in the shower crying.
(Sad isn't it?)
Cheryl S.- I'm not scared anymore. I'm mad now. I hope I meet
that son of a bitch again so I can jab his eyes out! I'm not saying what,
but I've taken the responsibility for protecting myself now.
Not that I did anything wrong. I followed all the guidelines
except have someone walk me to my car. I had parked in that lot the
three years I'd been working at ####### and this was the first trouble I
heard of.
I didn't have time to do anything when he ripped open the door
of my car. I didn't have time to turn and see his face before he hit me.
Before I could recover, he had pulled some kind of cloth sack over my
head and was tying my hands behind me. He pushed me into the
passenger seat and got in and drove off.
I tried to turn so I could kick him, but he hit me again and told
me to lie still. I figured I was dead. He was going to take me to some
abandoned site and kill me. They tell you that losing control of your
bladder can sometimes repel a rapist, but it was the fear that made me
wet my pants.
He thought it was funny when he pulled me out of the car and
discovered that I had peed myself. I never found my urine-soaked
underwear, so I guess he kept them as a trophy.
But just as bad as the rape was his attitude.
You like that, don't you? I bet you're hot now. That's good isn't
it? You want it don't you? He kept growling in my ear as he pushed me
up against me car and raped me.
He wasn't very big and he wasn't as brutal as I feared but when I
thought I felt him ejaculate I was suddenly overcome with the fear he'd
make me pregnant.
It didn't take long, though it seemed like hours when it was
happening. Then he hit me again and pushed me to the ground. When I
heard my car drive off, I started to cry.
It must have taken me half an hour to get out of the ropes, but it
didn't take long then to flag down a police car. They took me back to
the scene to look around and retrieved the ropes and bag and then
whisked me to the hospital. They weren't real supportive, but at least
they didn't make any bad jokes.
They haven't caught him, but if I see him, they won't have much
left to prosecute.
(What a trial it must have been.)
Deidre T.- He made me move back home. Even here I panic
when I hear a strange noise. He took more than sex- he took my life
away from me.
The cops said he had forced a window in my apartment and
'gained entry' that way. He gained entry into me by surprising me while
I was asleep. I woke up with this man in a stocking mask already
crouched over my body. All he had to do was sit on my thighs and use
his weight to hold down my arms to make me helpless.
I asked him what he wanted, what he was doing. I told him
where my valuables were and I begged for him to let me go, but he
didn't say anything. He just pulled my arms together where he could
hold them with one hand and reached down to open his pants.
I remember his penis looked huge- and angry. Then he put his
weight on my arms and slid his legs between mine. I couldn't hold them
together against his weight and he forced them open and got himself to
the opening of my vagina.
The thing I remember most was the silence. My sobs were the
only sound as he thrust inside of me and took me. He took me and took
me and took me- it was more like he was stabbing me over and over
than fucking. They say he didn't even ejaculate. He just raped me and
stopped when he grew tired of the sport.
When he got up he said the only words that passed between us.
"You lie there and don't move, or I'll hurt you bad."
I waited for half an hour by my alarm clock and then called the
police. The hospital told me there was no semen, but I guess I was
'lucky' that there was bruising and vaginal tearing consistent with rape.
They say this guy has raped about a dozen others.
(My, how upsetting.)
Rachel Y.- It was RAPE. I don't care about gray areas, or
where you draw the line. I said no and they didn't stop. I was honest
about everything- even when the truth was embarrassing. I don't care if
it's a tough call. Make the call, I was RAPED.
I admitted that I went to the motel to have sex. I admitted that it
was consensual sex with Randy at first. I admitted that I agreed to have
sex with Billy too. I didn't really agree to have sex with Seth, but that
wasn't when I said no. I kinda felt sorry for him and I decided not to
make an issue of it when he jumped on me when Billy was done.
But when the other three showed up, I said NO. Randy tried to
convince me it would be great, but I said NO. All of them tried to make
it seem like it would be a great party and I would be like a queen with a
harem, but I said NO. They showed me their dicks and told me I could
choose them and the rest would just watch, but I said NO.
Then Randy said, "She gets this way sometimes, she DOESN'T
But I meant NO. I said NO. And I kept saying NO NO NO NO
NO as Randy held me down and they lined up to rape me. They had to
hold my legs too. But there were six of them and all I could do was say
no. I think Billy got seconds because I remember four guys fucking me
one after the other. And they didn't let me up even when they were done
the first time. I would have run outside naked to get away at that point.
Then they turned me over and somebody sat on my head as
Randy butt-fucked me.
He told them I liked it, despite my muffled screams as he raped my
virgin butthole. Two more took me that way and then they let me up.
Everyone but Randy cleared out and he only stayed to try to
talk me into accepting what happened. But he saw I was too mad to
talk to and left, too. I was still mad when I went to the cops, but they
cooperated like shit. Come on, they said, you knew what you went
there for, that's not rape.
I knew what I went for, but it wasn't what I got. I got RAPED.
And I want some justice!
(Glad to see you're surviving.)
Sherry L.- It was so much like a movie. A guy grabs my hand
as I walk down the street and pulls me into an alley. The other hand is
holding a gun which he holds to his lips like a finger to tell me to be
quiet. He motions me behind the dumpster, puts the gun to my head
and motions for me to undress.
It's remarkable what a gun to your head will make you do, even
if it seems like a movie. I started to undress. He kept motioning until I
had taken off blouse, skirt, bra, pantyhose and panties. I was trying to
cover myself without being obvious and that must have been a sight.
I'm telling you that a gun to your head puts you in another state
of mind. He didn't care what I was doing, he just pushed me to my
knees and opened his pants. I knew I couldn't afford to bite him. He
knew I wouldn't dare. Even someone with no intention of hurting me
would probably shoot me if I bit his penis.
I did what he wanted, and he seemed to like it. Then he pushed
me down on my back and got over me. He put the gun under my jaw
and squeezed my breasts a little before he put it in. He seemed to enjoy
watching me squirm more than actually fucking me. He scared me near
to death twice, pushing the gun up under my jaw hard. Then right after
the second time he came, I guess.
Then he did a weird thing. He made me get dressed. He held
the gun on me as I put my clothes back on. Then he told me to face the
wall and disappeared.
Do about it? Who would believe that story? He didn't hurt me
much so I chalked it up to experience. Anyway, if I had to be raped, it
couldn't have been much easier on me and it could have been a lot
(What a trooper)
Gail E.- I hope I'm not wasting your time. I'm not sure I was
raped- legally and all. I'm not sure I'm even that pissed about it. But I
did get fucked by a guy that didn't ask me and that I wasn't planning on
The thing was that I was planning on getting fucked and I put
myself in the situation. Okay, I'll stop pussyfooting. I let my boyfriend
tie me up. Chain me up, I guess. And when I was leaning there,
helpless, he had another guy fuck me. I guess it wasn't like a rape at all
because it seemed like he was trying to make me cum, too, but it wasn't
the guy I was planning on fucking. I don't know?
(What an terrible ordeal!)
Ruth W.- I'm lucky to be alive. It was almost an accident that I
wasn't hurt badly, according to how you regard my reproductive ability.
There were three of them and they liked to knock me around. They
liked to hurt me in general as my hysterectomy scar will always remind
They jumped me coming out of a bar and drove me off in the
back of a pickup truck. The two in the back were all over me and I
think the third guy stopped the truck just because he didn't want them to
get anything he wasn't getting.
They raped me in the back of the truck- six hands grabbing and
pinching me and I don't think any of them entered me with out slapping
me or punching me in the face first. They were cheering each other on
and talking about me like I was a piece of meat as they groped me
while waiting their turns.
Every one of them tried to outdo the other making me scream
by fucking me with increasing brutality. By the time they rolled me
over it was a relief to be anally raped for a change. My asshole stood
up to the brutal rape better than my vagina.
When they were done, the same guy took off in the truck and
the others threw me off the back. The accident was that I fell into a
evergreen and it cushioned my impact. The doctor said that if I had hit
the ground, I probably would have been in a body cast for months- if
not a body bag.
They had damaged my vagina, uterus and an ovary, however.
The doctor said it was unlikely that I could have children now and that
the hysterectomy would be the best way correct the damage and
eliminate a risk of necrosis or infection.
Everybody thinks they know who did it, but 12 different people
have named 26 probable suspects. The cops have nothing to go on.
(Your story certainly isn't a pick-me-up)
Beth M. - If I said I felt sorry for the little twerp, I'd be lying.
But he is pathetic.
First off, he got caught. They say that's rare- at least until a rapist has
racked up quite a number of victims. And he is so lame, it's no wonder
he'd have to rape someone to get any.
But he was acting like a big man- a little ugly, pimply-faced big
man- when he was waving that gun at me.
He came in my convenience store late and stuck the gun in my
face. People get shot in hold ups all the time around here, so I listened
to what he said real close. He took me in the storeroom and told me he
was going to "fuck me good".
He made me lay down, pushed up my skirt and pulled off my
underwear, but when he tried to enter me he couldn't maintain his
erection. He told me that was my fault for being "too ugly to fuck". He
made me kneel and ripped open my uniform top and then rubbed his
limp penis on my breasts. He never took off my bra, he just rubbed
himself on the top part of my breasts, calling me names.
I think he was more interested in saying the things he said than
in having sex. He even passed on oral sex, but I think he was afraid to
put it in my mouth. He told me to "suck my Johnson" and then yanked
it back saying, "you'd like that too much you man-eating whore". He
finally jerked off on my chest, calling me filthy things. Then he told me
to stay there and ran out.
It took the cops two days to get him in custody and the first day
was half over when they got the copies of the tapes from the store
cameras. Lame.
(At least you're coming through it)
Lisa D.- I guess I've got the real rape story. My lawyer says she
sees it more and more, though not to the extent I suffered. I was raped
by my ex-lover when I still thought he was my lover. It may resemble
date rape, but let me tell you it's much, much worse when the man is
someone you've been with for a while.
We'll call him Sam because the trial is still on the docket. Sam
took me off for a romantic little weekend in the Adirondacks to a cabin
of a friend. It started out so wonderful and then it turned so bad. We
had a romantic evening beside the fire on Friday and then a long walk
in the woods Saturday morning.
I was a little hesitant when Sam asked to tie me to the bed, but
he asked if I didn't trust him and promised that it would be so very,
very exciting for me. It was something, but I didn't realize rage was the
kind of excitement he meant.
When he was sure I couldn't escape, he started in on me. I'm not
saying he got nasty- at least not right off- he just started doing whatever
he wanted to do and began ignoring me. He finished with me once- I
had not enjoyed it at all- and then he left me there. I was still thinking it
was a bad experiment when I asked him to let me up.
He laughed and said I hadn't given it a chance. I was supposed
to lay there and get hot for the next time- that's how it worked. I
insisted and he told me I'd be happier if I played the game. I shut up
because I figured he'd let me up quicker if I went along with him.
I guess it was about twenty minutes until he was back and had
sex with me again. I still got nothing out of it. I told him that and
demanded that he untie me now. Then he got nasty. He told me it was
my fault. I hadn't given it a chance. I had decided it wouldn't be fun and
now I was trying to ruin it for him. I was a ballbuster and a selfish cunt
(I hate that word) and he was sick of always doing things my way.
I forgot my position and started yelling back and we had a
terrible fight. I guess he figured we were through about then. I know he
just started laughing at me and asking me what I was going to do about
Then he raped me with the broom handle. He said if I couldn't
climax with him, maybe I would like something that would never get
soft. He hurt me with that thing for at least twenty minutes, asking me
the whole time if I was getting off yet. I guess that got him hot, because
he followed the broom by having sex with me again.
I think he was scared after that. I saw a look of concern on his
face when he saw the pool of blood that had leaked on the sheets
between my thighs. I don't think he knew what to do. That made me
afraid. Maybe he was thinking he could say we had a fight and I left
and he didn't know where I went. I realized it would be easy for him to
kill me in my position.
Maybe my fear jolted him back to reality because he mumbled
some stuff about how I had asked for it and untied one of my hands. He
was gone when I had gotten myself extricated from the ropes and put
some clothes on.
The more I thought about it, the madder I got. I went to him
first, but he said he was through with me. Maybe he did lose his
temper, but I was screaming as loud as he was. It wasn't going to work
out and I should leave him alone.
My attorney says the problems with the rape charge are that I
didn't immediately report it and let the authorities gather evidence and
that it is my word against his that the sex wasn't consensual. She thinks
using the broom handle is a point in my favor, however.
(We hope you sweep up, girlfriend)
Carey H.- I guess I was at the same frat party as Marcie R. and
I guess I was lucky, relatively speaking. I don't think the frat boys tried
to rush me up the stairs seriously, either, but I ended up there. The
problem is that I have gaps in my memory you could drive a truck
through. And that's an interesting turn of phrase. Because when I woke
up I felt like a gap someone had driven a truck through.
I didn't remember and I still don't, but since I've found an aid to
fill in the gaps. I was at another school for pervert's night at a brother
frat and they had a tape they called 'gang bang'. Now I think gang bang
tapes are boring, even more boring than most sex tapes because its the
same thing over and over. This tape was even worse than normal
because the girl didn't even move. But I found one thing strangely
fascinating- the girl was me.
I had my date ask the guys about the tape and if he could get a
copy. They ran him off one and said they had indeed gotten the tape
from my school's chapter. I guess I look better conscious, because
nobody at pervert's night recognized me from the tape. Even my date
had to watch part of the tape again to believe me when I told him.
So what? So I learned a lesson. Sure it was a dangerous lesson
with the possibility of disease and death, but it's not like there's much I
can do about it. Sure I'm uncomfortable with the thought that every guy
in ### will be watching me get fucked by the whole frat house, but I
think I'll call more attention to myself trying to stop it than by keeping
my mouth shut. After all, all those people in the same room didn't
recognize me.
Take action? Oh please! There's no evidence of force on the
tape and no evidence I didn't consent before passing out. And I find out
about it at pervert's night? Tell me that wouldn't be a circus. Defense:
Pervert's night? Could you describe what goes on?
Me: We watched that horrid film of those boys raping me. Defense: and
then the night ended? Me: No. We had a theme party. Defense: And
how do you have a theme party called Pervert's night? Me: Well, it's not
like it sounds. That's sort of a joke. Defense: Well then, would you
describe what goes on? You watched a film of a woman having
repeated sex with a large number of boys and then.... Me: It's like skits
lampooning certain sexual eccentricities. Defense: All right, ######, let
me read this account from a witness and you tell me if it is accurate.
Defense reads: After the tape got us loosened up a little, we
started acting like perverts. You know, peeking up the girls' dresses and
down their tops, flashing them. Some of the guys have these tubes in
their pants so they can act like they're pissing on their dates- gets 'em
all wet and makes their clothes transparent. There were people, men
and women, dressed up like animals. The hit was one girl dressed like a
six-year-old- with a lollypop and all. One of the guys was dressed like
an old man and he told her he had a lollypop that tasted real good, and
got her to lick his dick.
Question: She was actually having sex?
Well if you call licking a guy's dick sex, sure. I think the guy
dressed like a horse was actually fucking his date too, but it was kind
of hard to tell. It happens. Mostly it's exhibitionism and games, but it's
not like you can't get down to it if the feeling takes you.
Defense: Is that an accurate depiction of the things going on?
Me: yes.... Defense: And what part were you playing that night?
(objection:-overruled, answer the question) Me: I was a baby. Defense:
Go on. How does that relate to the theme? Me: Some people, I've
heard, like to be treated like a baby- have their diaper changed and like
that. Defense: Describe your costume, please. Me: I had on a baby
bonnet and a diaper. Defense: And your breasts were exposed? Me:
yes. Defense: And did you have your diaper changed? Me: yes.
Defense: So we are to understand that you were completely unclothed
in this room full of people for a period of time? Me: I had on the
bonnet. Defense: Oh yes, we must not forget that. So you were totally
naked in front of this room full of people for how long? Me: maybe
two minutes. Defense: Two minutes? Isn't that a long time to change a
diaper- even considering that exposing yourself was one of the
purposes of this charade? Me: He didn't change me right away.
Defense: What was he doing for these two minutes? Me: He spanked
me. Defense: Is that a -excuse the phrase- normal part of this baby
perversion? Me: I don't know. It was just part of the way we planned it.
Defense: I see, so please describe those two minutes you were exposed
to the roomfull of people. Me: He announced that I needed changing
and had me stand in front of him. Defense: Facing him or facing the
room? Me: Facing the room. Then he took off my diaper... Defense:
Leaving you frontally naked for all to see? Me: yes. Then I reached
back for the OHenry bar and pulled it out. Defense: Were you handed
the candy bar? Me: No. I had been holding it between my buttocks.
And then I ate it. Defense: This was to simulate eating you own feces
as a child might? Me: yes. Then I was turned to show the chocolate
stains and he pulled me over his knee. Defense: That was when he
spanked you? Me: yes. Defense: Then he replaced the diaper to
complete the...skit I think you called it? Me: After he licked the
chocolate off my butt- yes.
I'm sure that would go over good with a jury. I mean I think it
would give the guys on the jury a hardon, but I don't think anyone
would be convicted of rape.
(lick off the chocolate?--yechh!)
Angie S. - Hello, my name is Angie and I'm a girl. I haven't
been raped for six months. (applause) I used to ask for it. I wore
clothes that could be taken off or even ripped. I went out. I was female.
What did I expect? How can I say I wasn't expecting the attention?
Come on- being female in public and dressing so you could tell I was
I couldn't help myself. I didn't understand the deep
psychological need I had to be raped. I wasn't a virgin, you know. Now
I know having sex is like asking for sex and being in a place where you
can be raped is asking for it. I mean, wasn't it just a little convenient
that I decided to walk on a city street when I knew there might be a
man on it? And being dressed in a skimpy bra, panties, pantyhose, skirt,
blouse, blazer and overcoat-couldn't I tell I was advertising?
But with the help of the 12-rape program I'm getting better. I
understand it was my fault for having a place men could stick their
organs. I understand I erred by being the same sex as their mother. And
I made myself available. Even a locked door is just a form of teasing
and I went outside! But I'm making changes. I've apologized to the men
I've tempted and with the help of the Higher Power I'll never make
another man be forced into the tough decision to rape or not rape
because he has noticed I am female.
(It's good to seek help)
Kelli K - I'm pretty sure I was raped. It felt like I'd been raped
by a truck when I came to. And the hospital said, judging from the
semen and the bleeding from my vagina and the semen and the bleeding
from my rectum, that they were pretty sure I was raped.
I don't remember because the last thing I knew I got this real big
pain in my head and dropped down toward the ground. I recovered
consciousness later- quite a bit later, I'm told, laying on my face with
my naked butt in the air. I didn't know what to grab first. My head felt
like it had been cracked open and my poor...bottom parts... felt like
they'd been put in a drill press. Then came the cops and the hospital and
all that stuff.
But I'm not sure the guy didn't do me a favor. Not a big one,
mind you, but I traded the wonderful, wholesome feeling of being
raped repeatedly by a brutal man for the forgetfulness of a concussion.
I figure either way I get up ravaged and sore and go through the rest of
the crap.
(How sad to be alone)
Felice R. - Raped? Have I been raped? I live in Rape Central
and I AM the Rape Crisis Hotline.
I've been raped four times in the last two months. I've been
raped twelve times this year and it's only July. And now you think I live
in some ghetto in a ratty old firetrap. Well, I live in an upper middle
class suburb in the third most expensive house on the block. It hasn't
stopped them from pushing their way in and having their way with me.
I think the servicemen have some sort of grapevine. Because,
except for Bill from up the street, the rapists have been plumbers or
phone men or construction workers or landscapers and men like that.
I've given up fighting them. I always end up hurting myself
more than them. I do tell them firmly in a serious voice that they
shouldn't, that I don't want it, I don't want them and it is with no consent
of mine, therefore they are rapists.
That made one guy think for a minute, but he pushed me across
the counter and assaulted me from behind anyway. I guess my record
does make me a little vulnerable. After the first two or three get away
with it, they all feel safe. I know it's bad, but I can't do anything about
it. After the first one, I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone what had
happened. I didn't even think about the police. After the second, I
figured I had the odds really beat now and could breathe easy. After the
third I was ready to do something. But what about only complaining
after the third guy? If it was my practice to allow it sometimes, how
was this poor boy to know I meant it this time?
Maybe it was bad thinking, but the real wrong came the first
time I didn't report it. By this time I know it's pointless to make a
complaint, just like it's pointless to struggle. I crossed that line in May
when Bill from up the street just walked into my garden, picked me up
and carried me into the house and then threw me down on the bed in the
downstairs bedroom.
"Hi Felice," he said, "Hear you like to play some kind of rape
game. I'm here to play. Now lets get those clothes off."
He got me totally naked and made me sit, stand and lay in dirty
poses. Then he did it to me right in the downstairs bedroom. He asked
me to suck his thing and I said, no. Instead of grabbing my head and
making me do it like all the rest, he let me slide. But he said he'd be
After that, I knew I couldn't turn in anybody. Even when Bill
came back last month and made me have anal sex with him. I guess I'm
a target and there's nothing I can do about that.
{Glad to see you're coping)
Ginny L. - I guess I didn't think I had a case until the next
morning. When I went to bed, I looked pretty normal. Now I wish I had
called the cops on Jerry.
It wasn't your classic, hold 'em down and make 'em take it,
rape. Jerry calmly told me we were going to have sex. 'In your dreams,'
I said and he wasn't laughing. He simply slapped me. I didn't see his
hand move. I couldn't duck. I was standing there and the next thing I
knew- SPLAT!- he slapped my head sideways.
"Now take off your clothes," he said.
I just stared dumbly at him, amazed at the hard look in his eyes.
He wasn't amused by my questioning look or the wonder in my eyes.
When I didn't move fast enough to suit him, he slapped me again.
It hurt. It wasn't some light tap, he was hitting me. It was
enough to make my fingers fly to the buttons of my blouse and start
undoing them. I guessed a slowed after taking off the blouse and was
getting pretty pokey when my skirt slid down my legs. I did hesitate
taking off my bra, but he only had to raise his hand to put me back at
top speed.
"Now pull down my pants and suck my dick," he told me when
I was standing naked in front of him.
I wasn't refusing. The command just wasn't making sense to me.
Jerry didn't care. He slapped me again, knocking me off-balance and
then grabbed my hair and pulled me to my knees at his feet. I opened
his pants and pushed them down and took his cock in my mouth.
"Look up at me," he ordered, and I rolled my face up to look
into his eyes.
He was standing with his hands loose at his sides like a
gunfighter with this smirk on his face as he watched his cock go in and
out of my mouth. I could tell he was enjoying it even before my
sucking started to make his cock get hard.
I don't remember crying, but I could feel hot tears rolling down
my cheeks as his hard cock prodded the back of my throat.
"Take it deeper. Take it all," he ordered and I tried.
He wasn't impressed with my efforts, or he wanted another
excuse to abuse me. I thought I was taking it all. My nose was hitting
his belly as his cock gagged its way into my throat. He let me try a
couple of moments and then grabbed the back of my head and forced
me harder onto him. I wanted to throw up, but his cock was in the way.
"You're just no damn good!" he insulted and pushed me away
from him with enough force to topple me backwards onto the floor.
"I don't even know if I want to fuck you now," he said, "Stand
I clambered to my feet and stood in front of him. I was scared
now and it must have shown as I stood cowering, awaiting his next
instruction. I wanted to back away out of reach, but somehow I knew
that would set him off and I didn't want to be slapped again.
"You want me to fuck you, though, don't you?" he asked.
When I didn't say anything my face burst into fire again as his
hand struck my face.
"You want me to fuck you, don't you," he said again, nodding
his head.
"yes," I peeped, nodding ever so slightly.
"Then ask for it," he ordered, "Ask me to fuck you. Tell me
how much you want it."
"Ppp... plea.. please fuck me," I stammered, beginning to
tremble with terror.
"You better make me want to fuck you," he threatened and I
had a violent tremor pass through my body.
"Yes, fuck me," I begged in terror, "I want you to fuck me.
Please do it to me. Fuck me now. Please, please, please..."
"Not good enough," he judged, "Tell me why I should fuck
you. Make me want it."
I didn't understand. I guess I just stared dumbly until he slapped
me again.
"Describe it. Tell me what fucking you is like," he instructed,
"Tell me all the dirty things you want to do with me. Tell me how
much I'll like it."
It was the hardest thing I've ever done. I couldn't think. I was
too scared. I wasn't in the mood to talk dirty, but I was less in the mood
to be slapped again.
"It's real nice," I stuttered, "I've got a nice pussy. It'll feel real
good to put your big cock inside me."
"Show me," he said, "open it up for me while you talk."
I reached down and spread my lips for him. Somehow touching
myself made the words flow smoother.
"She how soft it is? It will rub your cock so nice," I told him,
"It's hot in there and it will be so tight on your big dick."
"Tell me what you want to do," he growled with growing
"I want my pussy to swallow your big dick," I said, "I want you
to put it in me and let me suck your dick with my pussy."
He looked at me as if to say:' and...' and I stumbled on trying to
find the thing he wanted to hear.
"I want to come on your your dick," I said, "I want you to fuck
me good. I want it hard and fast and for a long time."
I was on the verge of tears as he looked at me in disgust. I was
sure he was going to hit me for not knowing what to say. I really did
want him to rape me and get it over with.
"And is that all you want to give me?" he prompted, "Is your
pussy enough?"
I mistook his meaning and began to blather, "No, your big dick
is much too big for my tiny pussy, I'll get split wide open, but I want
"Turn around," he said sounding tired, "now tell me what you've
I knew what he wanted then. The thought chilled me so cold my
teeth began to chatter. I could hardly form the words I knew he wanted
me to say.
"Yes, yes, be the only man ever back there," I said, "Open me
up. I want you to have it all. Fuck my pussy and fuck my--rear."
"Fuck your what?" he baited me, sensing the word caught in my
"Fuck my ASSHOLE!" I said, just wanting him to finish and go
If only it had been that easy. My perception was the rape would
be somehow better than the humiliation of flaunting myself unwillingly
and saying those nasty lies. In truth it was worse. I felt bad and was
embarrassed as he controlled me, but when he shoved his cock in me it
hurt. Before was only an emotional thing, his savage thrusting was a
real, physical pain. And he continued the humiliation by using me like a
dog on the floor.
I have no words to describe the torment when he pulled his
organ out of me and pushed it against my anus. I really was an anal
virgin. I didn't know what to do. And he kept denigrating me the whole
"You'll want this again when I'm through," he laughed as he
pushed at my anus.
"Damn it, open up," he growled as his first attempt was
He smacked me on the butt- hard. He pushed again and
smacked my other cheek. Unfortunately, that was working and he kept
spanking me as he rammed more and more of his cock into my rectum.
"I see you like it rough. Well, I got plenty of rough for you," he
gloated as he pummeled my buttocks and skewered me, "I'll give it to
you the way you like it."
He would have had to kill me if he wanted me to beg while he
ramming that thing in my rear. I was too busy sobbing and moaning as
he buggered me. It was horrid and excruciating and only topped by him
pulling me up and ordering me to suck off the dick that had just been in
my ass.
He had to slap me again to make me because it was the most
disgusting thing I could imagine. But I did it and he left.
When I went to bed I looked like I had been crying, but not
much else. I didn't think I would convince anyone I had been forced. It
would be his word against mine and I would have to repeat the things I
said and what I did in court.
When I got up, my face was a mess. My eyes were black and
my face was swollen and puffy red. It was obvious I had been beaten
then. But I think it was too late.
(Let's hope the experience opened up things for you)
Ann L. - We all have heard of date rape by now. You say no
and he doesn't take no for an answer. Well, I said yes and he took that
as an open invitation for anything that came to his mind.
He tied me up and used me in every way you can use a woman.
And then there was the lack of privacy. He stopped raping me three
times to answer the door and each time he brought his friend in to take
a look at the girl he had tied to his bed.
The narrow little legal issue here is that I wasn't really objecting
to having sex with the guy. I didn't tell him: Stop, stop, let me up, I
don't want to have sex with you. I was saying things like: I don't like
that, hey, that's the wrong hole, get that guy out of here, Ouch!
The cops tell me that's a lot different from telling him to stop
and if I didn't tell him to stop, it certainly wasn't rape. I suggested that
he try it and see what he called it, but that really didn't help anything.
All I know is that guy fucked up. I would have fucked him again if he
hadn't gone all freaky on me. Now there's no way. I just hope what he
got is worth as much to him as what he could have had.
(but how do you feel?)
Missy P. - If you use this, you're asking for trouble. I know how
unpopular my point of view is. But I think my voice is a valid as any
one's, popular or not.
I loved my rape. It was a positive turning point in my life. It
crystallized just about all my issues into one metaphor. And I used it to
turn the corner to the self-actualized person I have become.
He was a man I knew slightly. We had been at the same
functions a few times and we had talked. I don't recall him ever asking
me out on a date, and I know we never dated. He was just someone I
knew, but someone I knew well enough for him to get inside my
apartment before I decided whether or not I wished to react.
I wasn't thinking danger. I was just thinking odd. I started
thinking danger when he started making obscene suggestions. He told
me he knew I wanted it and described graphically what kinds of
perverted (and normal) sex we could have right then because we
wanted it.
He was alone in his wanting, but he was also strong. He pushed
me down and proceeded to go about his business despite my struggles
to stop him. Every effort I made, he turned to his advantage,
succeeding in raping me twice while he held me helpless.
It was then it seemed to dawn on me like sunlight breaking
through the clouds- rape and woman's place- the triumph of beauty over
substance- all those instances of appearing to be sexually interested as
some unspoken currency to pay a woman's way in the world. This was
my life. In some sense I had been always held down and raped-
helplessly subjugated by the sex drives of men. I exploded in rage.
The police had me checked and all the evidence supported my
statement that he raped me. I was hysterical enough when they got to
my apartment to suggest temporary insanity. So the prosecutor
questioned me again and decided that I had acted in self-defense and I
hadn't realized how bad I had hurt him before I hit him the other sixteen
times with the brass lamp.
Now I don't say I enjoyed the rape. I am just happy that I came
to the crux and I don't think I could have without the rape happening. It
was a bad thing with a good end. For all the positive impact it has had,
I have to say I loved my rape.
(floor lamp or table lamp?)


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