LovelyPerversion
04-20-2006, 08:10 PM
:cool: Here’s a true story for those of you who enjoy a certain hint of realism…
No, this isn’t MY story… I am typing it out as best I can remember from the woman who felt the need to tell me all about her rape.
***In case you're pondering the morality of posting this other woman's trauma for all to see, normally I'd agree that it's wrong. However, this woman tells this story in great detail to EVERY stranger she meets - including freaks like myself, so in a way this story has become public information.
I don’t know why I attract people like this…I don’t give a shit…I am one of the most unsympathetic people you’ll meet… Complete strangers corner me and tell me all about their dog dying, their mom is sick, their hemorrhoids, etc… (yes, while at work I had to sit and listen to a woman I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW tell me about her hemorrhoids and how she had to soak in warm bathtubs) :eek:
This happens a lot at work… I work at an animal shelter (it’s a paying job), and apparently people’s hearts get tugged at when they visit, and they feel the need to open up with all their pains inside to the nearest bystander--->me. :o
Anyway, one night, AFTER we'd closed, a woman with super-short blond hair comes in. I can’t remember why she came there, but she instantly started “chatting†the way women do, about all she’d done that day…
My supervisor pulled me off to one side before I could say anything rude :mad: , and tells me we have to be nice to her, because she had named our non-profit animal shelter in her will, and she was good friends with the founder and the president of our organization. My supervisor then vanishes for the night…leaving me to deal with this woman.
She’d just come from a local rally at the University of South Carolina (USC-Gamecocks). They do these weird little T-shirt rally’s where people decorate blank T-shirts with oddball messages like “save the earth†“don’t drink and driveâ€Â, and these T-shirts are displayed along the city streets for all to admire.
Now, this woman…we’ll call her Jennifer…Jenny in her younger years. Now, Jennifer is about 30 yrs old now, about 5’6â€Â, extra-short blond hair, blue eyes, nice thin build.
Talked WAY too much…
She again tells me all about this rally she just came from… And again tells me about the T-shirt she had made for the rally (Hello…30yrs old…been out of college a while now…) The T-shirt said:
“No one buys clothes to get raped inâ€Â
That’s it. To the average person this made no sense…so she felt the need to tell the saga behind the T-shirt…..
Here's where the STORY actually starts:
About ten years prior…when she was a bubbly-headed 20yr old VIRGIN we’ll call Jenny…she worked as a hairdresser in a smaller South Carolina town. This was the kind of small town where everyone know everyone else’s business from preschool.
She was your typical cheerleader, miss popular, southern beauty with long flowing locks of lovely blond hair curled at the ends… You know the kind…with the Barbie-doll smile, bouncy walk, and that vacant look in her blinky little blue eyes… Short skirts, tube tops, sandals, pink lipstick… and a virginal tease on top of all that… you get the idea…
Anyways, as you can well imagine, there was a long list of men in this town who wanted to slam her over her salon chair, but none did…for the longest time…
Many of her customers were family friends, and they had known each other for ages.
Our assailant in this story…we’ll call him Jim…was the son of a close family friend. His mother was friends with her mother from childhood…etc…
This tells us that this poor Jim had been growing up alongside Jenny his whole life… Always seeing her in swimsuits, cheerleader practice, going on dates… Jenny never gave poor Jim a chance…who wasn’t a very good-looking fellow at all.
(Reminder… this is all pretty much as told to me from the crazy woman herself…I say pretty much because she told me all this over a year ago at work, AFTER we’d closed…so I was pretty pissed)
As time went on, Jim’s mother had gotten older, and couldn’t get around like she used to. Jenny, being the perfect southern belle, offered to come by this older lady’s house and do her hair once a week.
Jim, who still lived with his mother, now had the pleasure and the frustration of watching Jenny every week, bending over while washing his mother’s hair, styling it, etc…
One day, she arrived at Jim’s mother’s house for her weekly styling, and Jim’s mother wasn’t home. Jim, however, WAS…
Since Jenny and Jim were childhood friends, they sat and talked…ultimately spending the day together. It started getting late, and Jenny needed to go home.
This wasn’t the evening Jim had in mind… they’d spent the day together… Jim thought there was something more… He stops her, and tried to kiss her. She jumps back and freaks a little. (odd that the thought had never occurred to her that this childhood friend had at least THOUGHT about fucking her)
Jim becomes enraged, grabs her upper arms, and slams her back into the wall a few times. Jenny starts crying (of course). Jim just stands there for a second…unsure of what to do next. He’d crossed that line, and there was no going back… If he let her go, he’d be in trouble… He had to kill her…eventually…
He tried to kiss her again, but she screamed and tried to leave…
At this point, Jim’s mind crosses over into an episode. A lifetime of misery, poverty, and tension had taken it’s toll. Jim snaps, and flies into a total psychotic rage. This is a man who had never before shown any signs of any mental illness.
He grabs her upper arms again, lifts her, and throws her across their living room onto the sofa.
Jenny’s panicked now…screaming “NoNoNo†over and over…. Jim keeps hitting her until she stops… She slumps down onto the floor sobbing… “What are you doing? No No No What are you doing? No…†is all she could say.
Jim is making some sort of manic groaning sound. (The woman telling me this story tried to imitate the sound, but couldn’t because she started crying)
Jenny was weakened from the punches and the shock of the whole situation. It was very easy for Jim to pick her up and set her down into a thick wicker chair. ---the kind that didn’t allow you to sit upright…you were more leaned back.
He grabbed some wire ties out of a nearby toolbox and tied her wrists to the upper sides of the wicker chair. He starts pulling her clothes off. He had trouble with her little top, since her hands were tied, so he cut it off…
He maneuvers himself, shoves his dick in, and lays down on top of her, pushing the wicker chair up off the floor slightly… His body weight is pressed down onto Jenny. He slides his body up and down hers as he thrusts in and out of her. He was finished in a matter of seconds (remember, this guy’s having an episode) and runs out of the room and screams random words at the top of his lungs…
Jenny’s bewildered…still tied with the wire ties… Several moments pass, and she tries to free herself by tearing small strands of wicker away from the part of the chair her hands were tied to. This makes a lot of noise, and Jim comes running back in.
He jumps onto the chair…landing in Jenny’s naked lap…and starts hitting her again… He is saying things under his breath that were so grumbled they couldn’t be understood.
He pries her legs apart again, and fucks her again…this time standing instead of lying on top of her. Jenny sobs in rhythm with his thrusts…since the motion shoves her whole body up and down on the chair. This time, it seemed to go on forever…like he would never finish. And, never changed expressions, position, or pace… Just kept on pumping away like some sort of mechanical machine.
At some point during this machine-like rape, Jenny stops crying. She just lays there, starring off into space, numb from the shock of it all. Jim seems rather okay with this, and keeps pumping away at that same pace for an eternity. When he came(if he did) there wasn’t any big climax. He just stopped and stumbled away.
He stumbles over to the sofa, and unzips one of the sofa cushions. He pulls off the cushion cover, and walks back over to Jenny.
He fits the cushion cover over Jenny’s head like a make-shift hood. (The woman telling me the story felt the need to tell me twenty different times that he pushed down the hood and “made sure it was all snugglyâ€Â)
He turns around and sits down in the chair…on top of naked Jenny.
He sits there for several moments…like she’s not even there.
Jenny can see through the “hood.†The material wasn’t very thick at all. She watched as Jim looked around the room with a bewildered look on his face, like he was trying to figure out where he was.
He leans over, and gets a box-cutter from that nearby toolbox. Turns around a bit, and in one casual movement, cuts her tit.
Jenny screamed like her whole body was on fire… This sets Jim off again… He gets up, and climbs back on top of Jenny. He is completely on top of her lap, with his legs folded beneath him. Most of his weight is supported by his knees, which he has jammed against Jenny’s pelvis…
He drops the box cutter into his lap, and starts strangling her. He strangles her in a rather cartoon-ish way, shaking her head back and forth while he squeezed her throat.
“I---ca---n’t---bre---ath--- I---ca---n’t---bre---ath†is what she kept saying over and over again…
(The woman telling me the story does the “I can’t breath†gasps for me several times… She then triumphantly tells me that she figured out that he was enjoying the sounds she was making-----duh-----and that if she were quiet he would stop)
Jenny gets quiet. Jim picks up the box cutter again, and starts slicing her tits. He swings his arms from side to side one big huge motions. Making little 2 and 3 inch slash marks all over her tits.
(the woman telling the story to me pulled down her shirt and showed me those scars)
Jenny can still see everything going on through her little hood. Jim’s face had become twisted as his mind flew into overload… His eyes were bugged out like they were going to pop out of his head, and his mouth twisted… Bottom lip was pointing up and to the right…top lip was pointing down and to the left.
Jim had stopped making his lunatic groans though…he was totally focused on slicing up her chest.
Once he’d reached some level of satisfaction with mutilating her tits…he starts choking her again… Again, she struggles with the “I---ca---n’t---bre---ath--- I---ca---n’t---bre---ath†(crazy woman performed the gasps for me again and everything)
This time, he’s trying to kill her…but it’s like he can’t figure out how to do it right. He squeezes and hard as he can…and lets go…she coughs and gags….he squeezes as hard as he can….and lets go…she throws up.
Jim gets pissed, and starts punching her again… She can’t breathe very well anymore – her trachea had collapsed…she can’t breathe without coughing, gagging, and throwing up a little… He grabs her throat, and squeezes again…..holding the squeeze….holding….unti l she finally went limp.
(Now…crazy lady tells me that she was playing dead so he would stop…but I’m pretty sure she blacked out)
Jim ran off…I wasn’t told where he went…when/if he was caught…if he’s in jail…if he’s dead…etc…
Jenny was found by Jim’s mother, who’d returned from wherever she’d gone. She thought that some burglar had done this, and her son was missing now…probably went after the burglar…
It wasn’t until Jenny woke up in the hospital and told the police it was Jim that anyone had any clue what had taken place that day.
STORY over...jump back to present day...
That was ten years ago… Jenny went insane… was committed into a mental hospital several times by force…. I stopped listening at this point… she went on and on about stuff like baby raccoons, getting evicted from her house, the Chinese guy that the mental hospital, hiding the pills under her braces and spitting them out later…
She said she’s “fine†now…except for the fact that she keeps her hair cut short so it won’t happen again. (okay? Logic?)
By now, I had cleaned up the shelter’s lobby, gotten the bank bag ready to go, turned off all the lights, locked the doors, medicated everything that needed medicine that night, all the closing duties….and was now standing in the middle of a dark lobby, of an animal shelter, at midnight, alone with a woman who claims to be “fine now!â€Â
What does all of this have to do with that stupid “No one buys clothes to get raped in†T-shirt?
Well, after it happened, whenever she would tell someone she was raped, the first thing they would ask was “What were you wearing?â€Â
She took this personally, and felt that everyone was blaming her for the incident because she let her stuff hang out of skimpy clothes all the time. She went on a ten-year “Clothing stores don’t have a Rape Section†campaign. She made that “No one buys clothes to get raped in†T-shirt….even though, when hung, it made no sense to anyone but her and those of us who have had the misfortune of hearing her tale…again…and again…and again….
Hearing her tale went on for hours as she skipped around and repeated the same stuff over and over again. She has memory problems similar to that of Dori from "Finding Nemo." It was by no means a pleasant experience for me…especially since I had to pretend I gave a damn about her little crushed feelings.
We closed at 8pm… I was supposed to leave at 9pm… I was stuck there until 12 midnight… Since our time clock was broken, I had no way to prove that I had stayed so late, so I didn’t even get PAID for listening to her yammer on for those three hours.
If she'd presented her story from beginning to end, during any other time of the day, I'd probably have gotten as arroused as you are now!!!
No, this isn’t MY story… I am typing it out as best I can remember from the woman who felt the need to tell me all about her rape.
***In case you're pondering the morality of posting this other woman's trauma for all to see, normally I'd agree that it's wrong. However, this woman tells this story in great detail to EVERY stranger she meets - including freaks like myself, so in a way this story has become public information.
I don’t know why I attract people like this…I don’t give a shit…I am one of the most unsympathetic people you’ll meet… Complete strangers corner me and tell me all about their dog dying, their mom is sick, their hemorrhoids, etc… (yes, while at work I had to sit and listen to a woman I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW tell me about her hemorrhoids and how she had to soak in warm bathtubs) :eek:
This happens a lot at work… I work at an animal shelter (it’s a paying job), and apparently people’s hearts get tugged at when they visit, and they feel the need to open up with all their pains inside to the nearest bystander--->me. :o
Anyway, one night, AFTER we'd closed, a woman with super-short blond hair comes in. I can’t remember why she came there, but she instantly started “chatting†the way women do, about all she’d done that day…
My supervisor pulled me off to one side before I could say anything rude :mad: , and tells me we have to be nice to her, because she had named our non-profit animal shelter in her will, and she was good friends with the founder and the president of our organization. My supervisor then vanishes for the night…leaving me to deal with this woman.
She’d just come from a local rally at the University of South Carolina (USC-Gamecocks). They do these weird little T-shirt rally’s where people decorate blank T-shirts with oddball messages like “save the earth†“don’t drink and driveâ€Â, and these T-shirts are displayed along the city streets for all to admire.
Now, this woman…we’ll call her Jennifer…Jenny in her younger years. Now, Jennifer is about 30 yrs old now, about 5’6â€Â, extra-short blond hair, blue eyes, nice thin build.
Talked WAY too much…
She again tells me all about this rally she just came from… And again tells me about the T-shirt she had made for the rally (Hello…30yrs old…been out of college a while now…) The T-shirt said:
“No one buys clothes to get raped inâ€Â
That’s it. To the average person this made no sense…so she felt the need to tell the saga behind the T-shirt…..
Here's where the STORY actually starts:
About ten years prior…when she was a bubbly-headed 20yr old VIRGIN we’ll call Jenny…she worked as a hairdresser in a smaller South Carolina town. This was the kind of small town where everyone know everyone else’s business from preschool.
She was your typical cheerleader, miss popular, southern beauty with long flowing locks of lovely blond hair curled at the ends… You know the kind…with the Barbie-doll smile, bouncy walk, and that vacant look in her blinky little blue eyes… Short skirts, tube tops, sandals, pink lipstick… and a virginal tease on top of all that… you get the idea…
Anyways, as you can well imagine, there was a long list of men in this town who wanted to slam her over her salon chair, but none did…for the longest time…
Many of her customers were family friends, and they had known each other for ages.
Our assailant in this story…we’ll call him Jim…was the son of a close family friend. His mother was friends with her mother from childhood…etc…
This tells us that this poor Jim had been growing up alongside Jenny his whole life… Always seeing her in swimsuits, cheerleader practice, going on dates… Jenny never gave poor Jim a chance…who wasn’t a very good-looking fellow at all.
(Reminder… this is all pretty much as told to me from the crazy woman herself…I say pretty much because she told me all this over a year ago at work, AFTER we’d closed…so I was pretty pissed)
As time went on, Jim’s mother had gotten older, and couldn’t get around like she used to. Jenny, being the perfect southern belle, offered to come by this older lady’s house and do her hair once a week.
Jim, who still lived with his mother, now had the pleasure and the frustration of watching Jenny every week, bending over while washing his mother’s hair, styling it, etc…
One day, she arrived at Jim’s mother’s house for her weekly styling, and Jim’s mother wasn’t home. Jim, however, WAS…
Since Jenny and Jim were childhood friends, they sat and talked…ultimately spending the day together. It started getting late, and Jenny needed to go home.
This wasn’t the evening Jim had in mind… they’d spent the day together… Jim thought there was something more… He stops her, and tried to kiss her. She jumps back and freaks a little. (odd that the thought had never occurred to her that this childhood friend had at least THOUGHT about fucking her)
Jim becomes enraged, grabs her upper arms, and slams her back into the wall a few times. Jenny starts crying (of course). Jim just stands there for a second…unsure of what to do next. He’d crossed that line, and there was no going back… If he let her go, he’d be in trouble… He had to kill her…eventually…
He tried to kiss her again, but she screamed and tried to leave…
At this point, Jim’s mind crosses over into an episode. A lifetime of misery, poverty, and tension had taken it’s toll. Jim snaps, and flies into a total psychotic rage. This is a man who had never before shown any signs of any mental illness.
He grabs her upper arms again, lifts her, and throws her across their living room onto the sofa.
Jenny’s panicked now…screaming “NoNoNo†over and over…. Jim keeps hitting her until she stops… She slumps down onto the floor sobbing… “What are you doing? No No No What are you doing? No…†is all she could say.
Jim is making some sort of manic groaning sound. (The woman telling me this story tried to imitate the sound, but couldn’t because she started crying)
Jenny was weakened from the punches and the shock of the whole situation. It was very easy for Jim to pick her up and set her down into a thick wicker chair. ---the kind that didn’t allow you to sit upright…you were more leaned back.
He grabbed some wire ties out of a nearby toolbox and tied her wrists to the upper sides of the wicker chair. He starts pulling her clothes off. He had trouble with her little top, since her hands were tied, so he cut it off…
He maneuvers himself, shoves his dick in, and lays down on top of her, pushing the wicker chair up off the floor slightly… His body weight is pressed down onto Jenny. He slides his body up and down hers as he thrusts in and out of her. He was finished in a matter of seconds (remember, this guy’s having an episode) and runs out of the room and screams random words at the top of his lungs…
Jenny’s bewildered…still tied with the wire ties… Several moments pass, and she tries to free herself by tearing small strands of wicker away from the part of the chair her hands were tied to. This makes a lot of noise, and Jim comes running back in.
He jumps onto the chair…landing in Jenny’s naked lap…and starts hitting her again… He is saying things under his breath that were so grumbled they couldn’t be understood.
He pries her legs apart again, and fucks her again…this time standing instead of lying on top of her. Jenny sobs in rhythm with his thrusts…since the motion shoves her whole body up and down on the chair. This time, it seemed to go on forever…like he would never finish. And, never changed expressions, position, or pace… Just kept on pumping away like some sort of mechanical machine.
At some point during this machine-like rape, Jenny stops crying. She just lays there, starring off into space, numb from the shock of it all. Jim seems rather okay with this, and keeps pumping away at that same pace for an eternity. When he came(if he did) there wasn’t any big climax. He just stopped and stumbled away.
He stumbles over to the sofa, and unzips one of the sofa cushions. He pulls off the cushion cover, and walks back over to Jenny.
He fits the cushion cover over Jenny’s head like a make-shift hood. (The woman telling me the story felt the need to tell me twenty different times that he pushed down the hood and “made sure it was all snugglyâ€Â)
He turns around and sits down in the chair…on top of naked Jenny.
He sits there for several moments…like she’s not even there.
Jenny can see through the “hood.†The material wasn’t very thick at all. She watched as Jim looked around the room with a bewildered look on his face, like he was trying to figure out where he was.
He leans over, and gets a box-cutter from that nearby toolbox. Turns around a bit, and in one casual movement, cuts her tit.
Jenny screamed like her whole body was on fire… This sets Jim off again… He gets up, and climbs back on top of Jenny. He is completely on top of her lap, with his legs folded beneath him. Most of his weight is supported by his knees, which he has jammed against Jenny’s pelvis…
He drops the box cutter into his lap, and starts strangling her. He strangles her in a rather cartoon-ish way, shaking her head back and forth while he squeezed her throat.
“I---ca---n’t---bre---ath--- I---ca---n’t---bre---ath†is what she kept saying over and over again…
(The woman telling me the story does the “I can’t breath†gasps for me several times… She then triumphantly tells me that she figured out that he was enjoying the sounds she was making-----duh-----and that if she were quiet he would stop)
Jenny gets quiet. Jim picks up the box cutter again, and starts slicing her tits. He swings his arms from side to side one big huge motions. Making little 2 and 3 inch slash marks all over her tits.
(the woman telling the story to me pulled down her shirt and showed me those scars)
Jenny can still see everything going on through her little hood. Jim’s face had become twisted as his mind flew into overload… His eyes were bugged out like they were going to pop out of his head, and his mouth twisted… Bottom lip was pointing up and to the right…top lip was pointing down and to the left.
Jim had stopped making his lunatic groans though…he was totally focused on slicing up her chest.
Once he’d reached some level of satisfaction with mutilating her tits…he starts choking her again… Again, she struggles with the “I---ca---n’t---bre---ath--- I---ca---n’t---bre---ath†(crazy woman performed the gasps for me again and everything)
This time, he’s trying to kill her…but it’s like he can’t figure out how to do it right. He squeezes and hard as he can…and lets go…she coughs and gags….he squeezes as hard as he can….and lets go…she throws up.
Jim gets pissed, and starts punching her again… She can’t breathe very well anymore – her trachea had collapsed…she can’t breathe without coughing, gagging, and throwing up a little… He grabs her throat, and squeezes again…..holding the squeeze….holding….unti l she finally went limp.
(Now…crazy lady tells me that she was playing dead so he would stop…but I’m pretty sure she blacked out)
Jim ran off…I wasn’t told where he went…when/if he was caught…if he’s in jail…if he’s dead…etc…
Jenny was found by Jim’s mother, who’d returned from wherever she’d gone. She thought that some burglar had done this, and her son was missing now…probably went after the burglar…
It wasn’t until Jenny woke up in the hospital and told the police it was Jim that anyone had any clue what had taken place that day.
STORY over...jump back to present day...
That was ten years ago… Jenny went insane… was committed into a mental hospital several times by force…. I stopped listening at this point… she went on and on about stuff like baby raccoons, getting evicted from her house, the Chinese guy that the mental hospital, hiding the pills under her braces and spitting them out later…
She said she’s “fine†now…except for the fact that she keeps her hair cut short so it won’t happen again. (okay? Logic?)
By now, I had cleaned up the shelter’s lobby, gotten the bank bag ready to go, turned off all the lights, locked the doors, medicated everything that needed medicine that night, all the closing duties….and was now standing in the middle of a dark lobby, of an animal shelter, at midnight, alone with a woman who claims to be “fine now!â€Â
What does all of this have to do with that stupid “No one buys clothes to get raped in†T-shirt?
Well, after it happened, whenever she would tell someone she was raped, the first thing they would ask was “What were you wearing?â€Â
She took this personally, and felt that everyone was blaming her for the incident because she let her stuff hang out of skimpy clothes all the time. She went on a ten-year “Clothing stores don’t have a Rape Section†campaign. She made that “No one buys clothes to get raped in†T-shirt….even though, when hung, it made no sense to anyone but her and those of us who have had the misfortune of hearing her tale…again…and again…and again….
Hearing her tale went on for hours as she skipped around and repeated the same stuff over and over again. She has memory problems similar to that of Dori from "Finding Nemo." It was by no means a pleasant experience for me…especially since I had to pretend I gave a damn about her little crushed feelings.
We closed at 8pm… I was supposed to leave at 9pm… I was stuck there until 12 midnight… Since our time clock was broken, I had no way to prove that I had stayed so late, so I didn’t even get PAID for listening to her yammer on for those three hours.
If she'd presented her story from beginning to end, during any other time of the day, I'd probably have gotten as arroused as you are now!!!