Before I write about my real rape, I just want to say - please don't reply with sympathy comments. That's for two reasons - one, I'm okay; it was years ago and while I wish it hadn't happened, and I still deal with it, I've accepted that it happened. Sympathy about my rape feels yucky to me.. not telling you what to do (I know some of you strong, aggressive men wouldn't listen anyway!) - just a request.
I don't come to RB for sympathy - I come here to have fun with the way the rape tweaked my sexual fantasies. Because it did. I get off to the memory, as much as I get rage-off thoughts of flaying the guy who did it alive.
That having been said, here's my rape story... hope you enjoy!
When I was 13, our family lived out in the middle of nowhere in the Northern CA mountains, near the Pacific Ocean. Went to a tiny school, walked up dirt roads to get home; the whole nine. Everyone knew everyone there.
Our family was very poor, but not everyone in the community was poor, and it was a class-conscious place - the rich folks looked down on the middle-class folks, and they looked down on the bottom-rung "trash" - my family included.
But as a young girl does, I desperately wanted to be accepted by the rich and middle-class crowd.. the girls who swanned through the halls in middle school with their perfect clothes, perfect hair, makeup I didn't get to have... My clothes all had to be bought second-hand, but I'd rip them apart and sew them into something cute. Or I'd sew my own stuff. I got a part-time job babysitting so I could buy things girls love, like makeup and barrettes for my hair.
But the riches/jocks made fun of me: "Hey, it's River Trash!" (my nickname; our family lived by the river). The girls would cat-call: "Oh, isn't that cute, look at little RiverTrash in her new outfit! That used to be MINE, you know - my mom gave it to the Goodwill for the Poors! And now you're wearing it, BWAHH HA HA" - they were the worst. I tried SO HARD, but I was always "Kristen the RiverTrash". I had epic low self-esteem, thought I was SO ugly, but looking back now, I can see I was very pretty, in a RiverTrash kind of way.
I was a small, slender girl - not very short, but around 5' 2", with thin legs that made me stand slightly knock-kneed. I had a pretty face (I can see that now) but at the time, I thought I was the ugliest girl on the world. I looked exotic, which is not a good thing for a young American girl in a school with nothing but Aryan-looking whites. I had slightly olive skin, which never got a blemish; I was proud of that, but the rest was terrible: Green/hazel eyes that were slightly tipped-up and had a vaguely Asian look, though they were very big; a nose I loathed, that was small and turned-up at the end; and my lips - I hated them. They were so plump. They were fat, pouty, and dark pink. They stuck out and looked gross, like I was sucking on something. I hated them SOOOO much.
Plus I wore a retainer (cringe).
I did have great hair - it was glossy chestnut brown with blonde streaks which were natural, from the sun. We couldn't afford haircuts, and Mom was lousy at it, so I just let it grow. It was thick and silky, and it came down to the small of my back. I mostly wore it in pigtails or braids.
This was also the time I had just begun to develop boobs. I was a slow starter for the rest - no pubic hair AT ALL until I was 16 (!) - and I still had a childish body, long Bambi legs and a flat tummy; but my boobs had started growing. The were SO FIRM. It hurt to sleep on my front or cross my arms, even though they weren't very big - they were plump, rounded-cone-shaped, with puffy nipples, so they stuck STRAIGHT OUT and embarrassed the heck out of me. Mom would not let me get a bra. When I wore t-shirts, my tits would press out the front of the thin cotton and I would catch every man and boy staring at them with their eyes slightly narrowed, mouth slightly open - it was a mean look. I didn't know what it meant. Probably they were disgusted because I needed a bra and didn't have one.
Our family got a lot of harassment from the local Sheriff; my mom's boyfriend was a pot dealer. The Sheriff was a mean son of a bitch; I call him Sheriff Leitzer for this story (close to his name). His was one of the richer of the middle-class families in our tiny world - I went to school with his son (Beau) and daughter (Stefanie). Stefanie was "popular". Beau was too, playing football and being a jock. I didn't know them because I was beneath speaking to.
Sheriff Leitzer was ex-military, with tattoos of Marines stuff all over his arms, and a boot-camp attitude. He was a sadist, I'm pretty sure (well, I am sure). He was tall, and BIG - one of those big, strong men with broad shoulders, strong legs, huge hands. He wasn't defined like a weightlifter - he was slab like, if that makes sense - he had big, solid muscles covered with a layer of fat from liking beer a lot, and a bit of a beer-gut, though not huge. He had reddish-blonde hair that he kept in the Marines buzz-cut he'd gotten used to. He had a mean face, and a nasty way of looking at you with a sneering little smile, so the poor kids were in no doubt that he thought we were all trash.
My folks were ALWAYS in trouble with the law. Dad would get arrested and tossed in the drunk tank a few times a month. Mom would throw fits in public, drunk, and she'd get thrown in there to dry out. There were many times when it was just me, age 8 to 13, taking care of my baby brother and sister, for up to a week alone, waiting for my parents to get out of jail.
My rape took place during one of these times when they were both in jail and would be for at least another week. One day, I got all the chores done. I was alone (BB and BS taken by an aunt to help out). It was a hot summer day, and, being the RiverTrash that I am, I put on my favorite purple/blue bikini, grabbed a towel, and headed down to the small beach near the river that only my family knew about (so I thought). I brought my tunes and earpod headphones. I lay my big pink and white towel down on the sand, swam for a minute, and then lay face-down (sand is great with baby-boobs, you just dig a little holow for them!) - and just soaked up the rays, feeling warm and content for a change. I was listening to music, eyes closed, and almost asleep when I felt someone land on top of me with force. I squealed loudly and flailed around, struggling to get out from under whoever this was. I yelled "GET OFF ME! WHO ARE YOU! WHAT DO YOU WANT!!" - and I promise, I tried SO HARD to buck this person off, but he was much bigger than me. MUCH stronger.
The man said "Shut up. Stop fighting. Simmer down, and put your hands behind your back. Do it NOW." He barked these commands, so I was scared into complying. My hands shook as he yanked them behind me, and then I heard a sound and felt plastic ties on my wrists. He pulled them tight. I was now starting to get an idea of who this might be. Sheriff Leitzer? If it was him, he was probably taking me to jail too! I started crying.
And then I heard the knife - a knife being unfolded, a sound I was very familiar with - and the man slipped it under the sides of my bikini bottoms, cut; then cut the straps of my top. The tiny amount of blue and purple fabric fell away. He yanked them from under me, and tossed them to the side.
I was keeping my eyes closed at this point, trying not to see him, but I did sneek a peek. IT WAS THE SHERIFF. My cries started to escalate into long whimpers of fear and embarassment. NOBODY had seen me naked except me for years - my parents when I was a baby, sure, but we didn't go around naked in my family. To be lying here, completely naked, with Sheriff Leitzer staring at me - I could have died from shame.
He started to walk slowly around me, talking. I peeked again - he was holding a small video camera, and he was talking as he filmed me. "Was I right? See what I was talking about? Look at that sweet piece of ass. You think she'll scream when I stick it in?" He laughed. Then he came around to my legs, and kicked at them with his boots, which hurt - yelling "GET THOSE LEGS APART! wider, you stupid little bitch" - Sobbing, I obeyed, sliding my long slender legs as far apart as I could. He said: "Good. Now do NOT MOVE unless I say so."
He started filming again, only this time he kneeled down between my feet, and trained his camera on my naked ass and thighs. And of course - my pussy. I knew he could see it from his angle. I could feel that my pussy had parted slightly, so he could see ALL of it. I just wanted to die from shame. I closed my eyes and cried uncontrollably, digging my head forward to try to sink through the sand. He kept filming my pussy, talking into the camera: "Look at that bald little pussy. I guess I win the bet! Hah. Bet that shit's tight as HELL, too. Snapper pussy. Nice ass, too.." I jumped and flinched as I felt Leitzer's big, rough hand feel my thighs, sliding up to my ass, sliding a thumb down between my legs to rub at my pussy. My legs slammed together, and I wriggled and cried "Nooo! Please don't do that! Please no, please!"
Leitzer was on me in a split-second, leaping on top of me, one hand grabbing the back of my head and fisting a bunch of my hair: "DID I TELL YOU YOU COULD FUCKING MOVE? Do you WANT to get hurt?" I winced and cringed, and cried harder out of fear. "I won't do it again!" I sobbed. "Please, I won't do it anymore!!"
Trembling, feeling nauseated, I slowly slid my legs back, wide apart. It felt like my pussy was bright red from blushing. I could feel my heartbeat in it. I couldn't stand that he was looking at it.
Leitzer removed his hand from my hair and stood up. "That's a good little girl," he sneered. Then he went and put the camera down on a nearby river-boulder with a flat top. Aimed it at the area where my towel was, checked the settings and stuff, fiddled with them until they were to his liking.
I kept my legs spread wide, trembling and whimpering, and angry and frustrated. So scared...my heart thudding in my chest.
Then he started to take off his clothes - his gun belt, accessory belt, shirt, pants, regulation boots, socks, all of it. He got totally naked. My eyes were squeezed shut and swollen from crying, but I opened them a crack. Sheriff Leitzer's penis was fully erect, and sticking straight out from his body. I'd seen a penis before - my brother's when we were little enough to still take baths together - and once my dad's when he was drunk and wandered out of the bedroom.
Sheriff Leitzer's penis scared the hell out of me. It was SO BIG. Long, and it looked as thick as a Coke can. At that time of my life, I just didn't they could BE that big. It was dark red and the head of it was purple and shiny, like the skin was stretched tight. It stuck straight out from him, pointing out and a little up. It was so hard that it didn't even bounce when he moved. His balls were huge, heavy and hairy.
I knew how small I was - I had experimented with putting my finger in my pussy before - and I couldn't even get it in. I was way too tight, even for a finger. And once I finally DID just jam a finger in there, the tightness made my finger hurt. He couldn't possibly put it in me - it wouldn't work. That was a tiny relief as I lay there wondering what he would do next.
At this point, it didn't even occur to me that he had set the camera down and kept it on. I was so naive.
Leitzer dropped down onto the towel, straddling me, on his knees. He rubbed and squeezed me all over. His hands were really rough - like sandpaper on my skin. He groaned as he did this, muttering things.. things like "Oh, fuck yes, look at that fat little ass…" - he slapped my ass HARD, making me jump and squeak, and he laughed.
Then he slid back, and grabbing my bound wrists, used them as a "handle" with the other hand under my hips - to pull my ass up in the air. Since my hands were bound behind my back, it wasn't an "all fours" position, exactly - my face was smashed into the towel. He knelt behind me, and continued running his big, rough hands all over me. Reaching under me and squeezing/tweaking my already-painful new baby-boobs. His breath was fast and ragged, and he kept making these animal-like grunting noises.
I could feel his erection, with his knees right between mine.. it was rubbing against my ass and thighs. He placed it with his hand so that it was nestled between my ass cheeks, and rubbed it back and forth a little. It felt scalding hot. I was crying so hard that I stopped being able to breathe well, my nose just stuffed up and leaking snot onto my face. Crying like a baby. But trying to be quiet about it so I didn't get hurt.
He brought one hand, then, to grasp my left hip. With his knees, he shoved my legs even farther apart, and then I heard him hock and spit. He rubbed some of the spit on my pussy, and used the rest to slick down the head of his rock-hard cock.
"You ready, little bitch?" he said, and mashed the head of his cock against my pussy. He was breathing so hard, and his breaths were shaky with lust. I felt the hot bulb of his cock-head slip forward, forcing my labia apart, pushing past them to find my tiny hole. By moving his cock with his hand a tiny bit, up and down, he found my opening. "Ah fuck, yeah, there it is -" and then he jabbed forward with his hips. My spit-lubricated pussy allowed the head of his cock to slide (with difficulty) slowly in, and then, with another jab from his hips, the head popped through the muscle ring just inside me. It hurt so bad! My whole body bucked and shuddered; I tossed my head from right to left, and my legs were completely tight - muscles clenched - my toes curing and beating helplessly into the sand on either side of his legs.
The head of his cock was gripped inside me. I tried making a wild motion with my inner muscles to expel it, but it only made Leitzer suck in a breath and then groan, saying "She's so damn tight.. bet you were me right now, guys! (he chuckled). I realized then that he was saying things for the camera, and that is was on. I was being filmed, age 13, naked, hands tied behind my back, with a big, scary, nasty man behind me, sticking his cock into me, raping me.
Then I started struggling. I couldn't help it. Even if it got me another slap. I just couldn't not fight. I bucked and wriggled and kept saying "GET OFF OF ME GET OFF, STOP IT!" - he just laughed and leaned forward, put his hands on my hips and dug his fingers in, and shoved forward with his hips.
The pain was astonishing. I was being ripped apart, split in two. I screamed then but more like wide-eyed babbling, sobbing so hard my voice was getting hoarse, and I fought every inch of his cock, but it was like I was a tiny mouse, for all my fight was worth. He held me there with literally NO effort. My wailing sob got louder and louder as he got more and more of himself into me. I was so angry and it was intensely humiliating that I could not stop him, that he was going to WIN. Then with a final thrust and a deep moan of satisfaction from him, he was all the way inside me. He had won. I was now a Thing, a pretty object for his pleasure.
The type of crying I did then I haven't done since I was a toddler. Open-mouthed, unstoppable BAA-HAAAAWWWW sounds, but with things that sounded like words; I was out of my mind with pain and shame and frustrated rage. "BAWWWWWSTOP STOOPP OH PLEASE TAKE IT OUT, TAKEITOUT BAAWWWLLLLLL".
He paused deep inside me for a second or two, relishing how incredibly tight I was. It was literally impossible for him to fit inside me, but he forced it in. It hurt SO BAD. My belly and pussy were filled with fiery pain. I felt like I was going to pass out.
Then, his breathing all shuddery and groaning, he dug his fingers into my hips and began to really fuck. "That's so fucking GOOD," he gasped, pumping in and out, in and out. "Tightest god damn pussy I ever HAD…" He fucked me so hard, as I wailed and shook, that we both slid forward and down onto the sandy towel.
He raised up, turned me over, sucked and bit one of my breasts, and got on top of me again. Now I was on my back, with my wrists bound behind me, forcing my torso into a lewd arch, making my embarrassing puffy baby-boobs stick straight up. He was so sweaty, so gross. He started to fuck me again in this position, his hairy beer-belly smashing down on me, his hot beer-breath only a few millimeters from my face. Then - and this was the worst for me for some reason - he dropped down, his huge male body completely covering mine, lowered his head to my neck, reached his huge arms down under and around me, and grabbed the cheeks of my ass - hurting them, using them as a handle to hold my small pelvis in place so he could fuck harder. I'll never forget that feeling of near-suffocation, his hairy chest, the smell of his aftershave, the beard stubble scratching my neck and face as he licked and bit my throat hard. Because it was so intimate - he was mashed up against me - I could feel every inch of him and especially the hot agony of his outsized adult erection stabbing away at me, getting intense pleasure from my unwilling, overstretched, tiny abused hole.
For another few minutes he didn't speak. Just deep gasps and shuddering moans as his pleasure grew and grew, an occasional mutter of "Fuck, yes.." or "Oh, you fucking little WHORE.." "That's it, you worthless bitch, little jailbait River Trash fuckhole.." I started to feel numb between my legs as the pain grew too much to bear, and there were thick wet slurping/smacking sounds of a very small pussy being violently used for the first time.
He began to move faster, more urgently now. I felt like I was going into shock. I felt my legs, pushed apart by his hips, wave in the air in time with his thrusts. His fingers dug so hard into my ass cheeks that I swore he was ripping them and I was bleeding. Wait. Wait… something about the way he was speeding up, and that he wasn't talking at all right now - his eyes had closed, his head was thrown back, it looked like he was concentrating intently… The pumps of his hips were growing more and more violent, more urgent…NO! No! Oh god please please god no
…HE WAS CUMING. I knew what that meant. I'd seen my brother masturbate and I knew what "cumming" meant. He was nearly there. He was going to squirt his semen into me, all the way up into me. I could NOT LET HIM. I couldn't stand it - I'd die if he did it - my heart began to pound harder, and I renewed my struggling, and started to beg again, my voice this time wild with despair and outrage and shame.."PPLEEEASE STOPP! PLEASE STOP! TAKE IT OUT NOW OH PLEASE PLEASE…"
"I'm not takin' it out now, you stupid bitch," he gasped. "I'm about to cum in you" And then he started full-length brutal strokes which brought him almost out of me and then slammed back in, all the way: SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! And on the last one he stayed in all the way, and his back arched - every muscle of his tightened - he put his left hand around my throat and squeezed, and began to slap me hard - once twice three times - then dropped his hands down on the sand, and just roared through clenched teeth. As he did, I felt that enormous, invading thing in me start to throb and twitch, and I felt something being squirted into me, all the way up at my cervix.
Leitzer stayed in this arched-back, pushed-in-all-the-way, eyes-closed stance for a full minute, it felt, his whole body shuddering with exquisite pleasure, emptying his balls one spurt of hot semen at a time into his bawling, conquered little bitch-toy.
When he was done, gasping and going "Whew!" and laughing - LAUGHING - I slowly, painfully curled up on my side into a fetal position and just sobbed hysterically, shivering on the sand. I'd been taken. Beaten. Shown my place. A man can do what he wants to me and I can't stop it. I'm nothing. I'm a toy for the pleasure of men. I was so humiliated I wanted to die. I just lay there as he cut my ties, kicked me and said "Get up. Wash off in the crick. Wrap your towel around yourself and walk home. If anyone asks, some boys stole your bathing suit."
I could barely walk. When I finally did stand up, what felt like a quart of gooey, slimy cum just spilled out of my poor little pussy, running down my legs and onto the sand. My pussy had swollen to twice its size - I saw it when I washed off in the river - the smooth peach-pink little cleft I was used to was now a gross, bright-red/pink, swollen mess, with the inner lips so abraded an stretched that they now protruded from my pussy. It looked obscene..
Walking home, crying softly, waddling really, it felt like a foreign thing, not like a part of myself at all. LIke a balloon between my thighs. It was so HUGE with swelling, I could hardly walk. And every few steps, another drool of Sheriff Leitzer's semen came sliding out of me, running down my thighs. Proof of how much intense pleasure my body gave him, against my will. Proof that I was now not a person, but a pretty object to use and fuck, to give men satisfaction.
And that's the true story of my rape. I know it sounds bad, but can we not go there? I already KNOW that part. And it ended (not right away, though - those are more chapters). And I lived.
Besides? Now, probably because that was my first real sexual experience, my body and mind have been trained to get extremely turned on by rape. The thought of a man calling me a stupid bitch while I sob, and he holds me down, fucking me - not giving a damn about my pleasure, just taking what he wants, because men are entitled to do it - yeah, it's a "fucked up" mentality for me to have, but that's what gets me off… Life is strange!
And yes, I'd still kill a rapist, blah blah; but please let's not let this devolve into one of those. I think we're all agreed that this is a great place for fantasies, and that memory is one of mine.. I hope it got you hot. I hope it made you nut, hard. That's the point, right?
