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Old 07-08-2011, 04:58 PM   #301
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I applaud all the women on here who have told their stories. It is in a way cathardic to be able to share in an environment where people are kind and welcoming.

I was raped at 17. The only Asian in my high school, the nerdy, good student, good girl, I was taken to a party by friends. I knew a lot of the kids there, as I had just graduated, but felt out of place. The "friends" I went with wanted beer in order for them to stay and I wanted to stay, feeling like I finally "belonged" to the in crowd. I found a guy, a senior, who had a case of beer and got a few off of him for the money I had on me. Apparently, this was taken as me being interested, which I was not. The party was on a river in a cabin. I can still hear Jane's Addiction in my head sometimes, as it blared from the cabin. The cabin was set up with the bathrooms being outside, not in an outhouse, but more like a sauna type setting. On my way to the bathroom, I had not been drinking as I was the designated driver and had no interest in anything but the social interaction, the guy I got the beer from grabbed me. He pulled me into the woods about 50 feet from the house and started to pull at my sweatshirt. I tried to fight him off, but he was bigger and stronger. He couldnt get my sweatshirt off, so made himself happy with pushing it up along with my bra. He laughed at me and started to slap my face, pulling my hair and telling me I should be grateful. I was stunned, tried to call out for help, but the sound of the music and the sound from the river basically muted my calls for help. He ripped my jeans down around my knees, tearing the fly and threw me on the ground. To this day when I smell musty mulch I find myself back on that forest floor. He kicked me several times in the stomach knocking the wind out of me before he pulled one leg of my jeans off, taking the shoe with it. I was crying, could taste blood in my mouth and then his weight was on me. He kept talking in my ear how he was doing me a favor, that I was ugly and stupid and no one ever wanted me and would ever want me. Everytime I tried to push up to push him off my back, he'd yank my hair and slam my head into the ground. I could feel rocks and sticks cutting in my stomach, upper thighs and breasts. He rolled me over, pushing my legs apart, yanked and pinched my nipples and then took my virginity. The pain was immense, the shame and guilt even more overwhelming. He kept his face next to mine, telling me how worthless I was, etc. He finally came, inside me and then got up. As he got himself put back together he laughed and thanked me for a good time and then kicked me again and left. During the time he raped me I remember vividly looking up to see my friends driving away, leaving me stranded. I got myself redressed, knowing I was bleeding and my hair had dirt and twigs and leaves stuck in it and lamely hobbled to the cabin to find a ride home. I couldnt find a ride home and was feeling pretty frantic until the guy who had just raped me said he could give me a ride home. That was the last thing I wanted. A two hour car ride with the guy who thought raping me was doing me a favor. But he was my only option as most everyone was staying for the night. The drive home took 4 hours. He would stop along the way, pull over, pull me from the car and rape me or force me to give him head. When he got me home, he came to my side of the car, pulled me out by my hair and deposited me on my front yard. I remember walking inside, still feeling his hands on me, him inside me and hearing all the things he said. I also remember walking down the stairs to my room and having my mom sit at the top of stairs asking me if I had a good time. I couldnt tell her the truth, I wasn't supposed to be at a party. So I told her yes, not turning around. She did ask me the next day why my jeans were in the trash, but didnt notice the blood or the torn zipper. I was black and blue from the waist to my neck but was able to cover any light bruising on my face with makeup.

I told no one for 4 years. When I started having flashbacks and almost beat my then boyfriend to a pulp in my sleep I went to a counselor and was able to talk about it. When I told my parents, my dad asked me what I had been wearing and why I was at a party. They didn't get it, still don't get it.

The only regret I have is that I didn't report it. A few months ago this guy tried to friend me on facebook and that is when I realized that he didn't seem to know that what he did to me was wrong. I live daily with scars on my arms, knees and chest from his attack. But I also know I am a survivor and I am stronger today than I would have thought possible.
That is incredibly horrible. I commend your courage to spill this out. I know it was not easy for you. Because others do not get it is not your fault. You could have worn a thong bikini to that party and still have the right to say no and people respect that right. It was not your fault.

Healing wishes your way...
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Old 09-30-2011, 11:16 AM   #302
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I'm sure one day I'll come back and change this or delete it or something, but I may as well get it out there. I'm a classic case of re-victimization so I won't bore you with all the stories, but my upbringing and consequences of that upbringing put me in a lot of situations with some very bad people. One of them became my significant other which put me into even more bad situations with bad people. But the one story I'll share, vaguely, is the last time I was raped.

The man I was with, "the ex," was pretty awful and I finally broke it off with him. He seemed to accept it and asked me if I'd go hang out with him and two of our friends one more time because one of the guys had just gotten out of jail and they were celebrating. I knew the other two guys and figured that would be cool because with more people there, I'd be safe. Plus, I was close with the guy, "the nice one," who got out of jail so I knew he'd have my back.

We went out to a bar and had a good time, but I started feeling a bit odd. People there actually tried to get me to leave with them because they were worried about me, but I blew them off because I was with friends and told them there was nothing to worry about.

We got out to the parking lot and everything seemed to tilt. I told one of the guys, "the perv," I couldn't think and he said he'd take care of me. My ex was driving and the nice one was up front. Next thing I know the perv is shoving his cock down my throat and playing with my breasts. I don't remember really struggling because my mind was turned off. I do remember the ride home was long. He shoved my pants down and played with me and the three started talking about me like I was a product to be tested out. They said I had good breasts, felt tight and all that. I heard them, but it wasn't registering I guess.

Then the perv told the nice one to check out the merchandise and suddenly the nice one was shoving his fingers into me. Then I fought. But the perv had my hair and was shoving himself in my mouth and the ex turned the music up and I couldn't breathe and fight so I stopped fighting as the nice one used his hand to rape me. Sometimes I still don't want to believe he did that, he started it.

We got to the nice one's place and they took me inside. I was so out of it, but the ex and the nice one stayed outside while I tried to sleep inside. But then the perv took my clothes off and I don't know how it all happened, but he was inside of me and I managed to get away to get to the door, but they were out there and told me to get back in. They came in and I was on my knees, begging the nice one to help me. He hugged me and said he couldn't, but he wouldn't hurt me anymore. And he went upstairs and left me with the other two.

They repeatedly raped me and finally decided to stop taking turns. My ex tried to rape my ass while the perv was still inside of me, but I guess I fought them too hard because he didn't get really far. That's when my ex got pissed and shoved into me, alongside the perv. I remember crying and the perv got a conscience and told my ex to wait because he thought I was bleeding. He was right and I was sobbing by then. So they dragged me into the kitchen and told me to lick them clean. I tried, but after awhile I threw up in the kitchen sink.

My ex was mad and decided to watch me and the perv finish up. I thought it was over, but the perv said he wasn't finished. So I laid there and let him rape me and knew the ex would hurt me if I didn't make him believe I was fine and not going to do anything. He'd already pulled out the butcher knife while I was in the kitchen and I knew he was capable of killing me.

So when the perv was done, I laughed. I still hate myself for that, but I know it's why I'm alive. The ex took me home. It was an hour drive. And he'd touch me while we were on our way. I was hurt so bad and I didn't care at that point. I got home and slept for hours. Then I showered. I don't remember how I got them, but my lip was split and I had bite marks and bruises. I know I'd pulled out some of my hair and put it in the car. And I'd reached down to get some of the blood on my fingers and wiped it on the mattress. At that point, I really did think I was going to die and I wanted to leave evidence.

The perv cornered me once since then to demand what I remembered. I said nothing, especially since he had a gun. He's a cop now. I've never seen the nice one again and the ex tried to friend request me and acted like nothing happened. I ignored it.

I told my mom and she yelled at me for letting that happen and my dad told me that I should come to terms with the fact that when they touched me I liked it. He said I was just like him and there was no way a guy could touch me sexually without me getting into it. I decided at that point to not talk about it with them anymore. My friends and now-husband got me through it, though, and today I'm not even close to over it, but I'm working on it.

So that's my story.
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Old 10-23-2011, 10:38 PM   #303
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Originally Posted by Jerusha View Post
I'm sure one day I'll come back and change this or delete it or something, but I may as well get it out there. I'm a classic case of re-victimization so I won't bore you with all the stories, but my upbringing and consequences of that upbringing put me in a lot of situations with some very bad people. One of them became my significant other which put me into even more bad situations with bad people. But the one story I'll share, vaguely, is the last time I was raped.

The man I was with, "the ex," was pretty awful and I finally broke it off with him. He seemed to accept it and asked me if I'd go hang out with him and two of our friends one more time because one of the guys had just gotten out of jail and they were celebrating. I knew the other two guys and figured that would be cool because with more people there, I'd be safe. Plus, I was close with the guy, "the nice one," who got out of jail so I knew he'd have my back.

We went out to a bar and had a good time, but I started feeling a bit odd. People there actually tried to get me to leave with them because they were worried about me, but I blew them off because I was with friends and told them there was nothing to worry about.

We got out to the parking lot and everything seemed to tilt. I told one of the guys, "the perv," I couldn't think and he said he'd take care of me. My ex was driving and the nice one was up front. Next thing I know the perv is shoving his cock down my throat and playing with my breasts. I don't remember really struggling because my mind was turned off. I do remember the ride home was long. He shoved my pants down and played with me and the three started talking about me like I was a product to be tested out. They said I had good breasts, felt tight and all that. I heard them, but it wasn't registering I guess.

Then the perv told the nice one to check out the merchandise and suddenly the nice one was shoving his fingers into me. Then I fought. But the perv had my hair and was shoving himself in my mouth and the ex turned the music up and I couldn't breathe and fight so I stopped fighting as the nice one used his hand to rape me. Sometimes I still don't want to believe he did that, he started it.

We got to the nice one's place and they took me inside. I was so out of it, but the ex and the nice one stayed outside while I tried to sleep inside. But then the perv took my clothes off and I don't know how it all happened, but he was inside of me and I managed to get away to get to the door, but they were out there and told me to get back in. They came in and I was on my knees, begging the nice one to help me. He hugged me and said he couldn't, but he wouldn't hurt me anymore. And he went upstairs and left me with the other two.

They repeatedly raped me and finally decided to stop taking turns. My ex tried to rape my ass while the perv was still inside of me, but I guess I fought them too hard because he didn't get really far. That's when my ex got pissed and shoved into me, alongside the perv. I remember crying and the perv got a conscience and told my ex to wait because he thought I was bleeding. He was right and I was sobbing by then. So they dragged me into the kitchen and told me to lick them clean. I tried, but after awhile I threw up in the kitchen sink.

My ex was mad and decided to watch me and the perv finish up. I thought it was over, but the perv said he wasn't finished. So I laid there and let him rape me and knew the ex would hurt me if I didn't make him believe I was fine and not going to do anything. He'd already pulled out the butcher knife while I was in the kitchen and I knew he was capable of killing me.

So when the perv was done, I laughed. I still hate myself for that, but I know it's why I'm alive. The ex took me home. It was an hour drive. And he'd touch me while we were on our way. I was hurt so bad and I didn't care at that point. I got home and slept for hours. Then I showered. I don't remember how I got them, but my lip was split and I had bite marks and bruises. I know I'd pulled out some of my hair and put it in the car. And I'd reached down to get some of the blood on my fingers and wiped it on the mattress. At that point, I really did think I was going to die and I wanted to leave evidence.

The perv cornered me once since then to demand what I remembered. I said nothing, especially since he had a gun. He's a cop now. I've never seen the nice one again and the ex tried to friend request me and acted like nothing happened. I ignored it.

I told my mom and she yelled at me for letting that happen and my dad told me that I should come to terms with the fact that when they touched me I liked it. He said I was just like him and there was no way a guy could touch me sexually without me getting into it. I decided at that point to not talk about it with them anymore. My friends and now-husband got me through it, though, and today I'm not even close to over it, but I'm working on it.

So that's my story.
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Old 10-25-2011, 06:47 PM   #304
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I forgot this thread was here,it's been awhile since i posted in it,a big hug for you brave ladies,it gets easier with time,but it will always be with you.
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Old 11-09-2011, 05:16 AM   #305
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One thing that these stories show is that the reactions of others to the "events" can be the deciding factor as to how traumatic they are....especially in the juvenile cases.

Reacting like it's the most horrible thing in the world tells the victim they should feel horrible...perhaps more horrible than they actually feel, and they may proceed to feel bad about not feelnig bad enough.

"hush hush" actions tend to make the victim feel as though the experience is damaging to others.

Disbeleif or interrogation to "uncover the real truth" can make the victim feel like their integrity is questioned...asking them repeatedly if they "wanted it" can of course lead to them questioning their motives.

"I'll kill them" type responses may make the victim feel as thoughh they are causing trouble for others, perhaps endangering them.

The important thing with all "victims" we encounter is to be careful not to tell anyone how they "should" feel.

Keep a level head, be rational, show some genuine emotion but keep it below a boil. Remember that no-one "should" ever feel a certain way about something so personal.
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Old 01-12-2012, 07:15 AM   #306
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This is probably going to be a long message but it's been a long time since I talked about some of this stuff and it's probably good to get it out in the open again.

First and foremost, I am afflicted with a condition known as DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, more commonly known as Multiple Personality Disorder. I am actually not the host alter (her name is Kaz) but the main 'sexual' alter. DID is most often caused by severe abuse in childhood, abuse that is very well repressed. We're going to therapy soon, who knows what will be uncovered there.

Kaz actually does not engage in any sexual behaviour - she can't, it freaks her out, so that's where I come in, well, me and the other sexual alters.

Kaz had a few experiences that might well have caused her to fear sex. When she was 13 her first boyfriend, who was 16, was very hard pressing to get her to engage in sexual activity, the furthest he got was "second base" but this still caused her to feel very uncomfortable. In fact he pretty much pulled her shirt and bra off her the very first day they were going out despite her resistance.

Her second boyfriend was even worse. At 14 years of age, she was only with him for a week but in that time he tried to guilt her into sleeping with him. He coerced her into putting her hand in his pants, and he did the same to her. He also insulted her for not being shaven. She broke up with this guy pretty quickly.

Third boyfriend worse still. When she was 14 years old, he almost raped her in a park. Concealed behind bushes he pulled off her top, playing with/sucking her breasts etc, put his hand in her pants, got her to do the same, kept pressuring her to go further despite her saying no repeatedly. She eventually managed to convince him to stop.

Finally, she was led into a back street by a complete stranger, who pushed her against a fence, forced his hands into her shirt and bra, kept trying to trip her over (to rape her? who knows?) and kept trying to get into her pants despite her telling him to stop it repeatedly. She eventually convinced this guy to let her go.

Now the aftermath of whatever actually caused our psyche to split into alternate personalities has caused me to be obsessed with rape, real rape. I have cravings to actually be overpowered, raped and abused, in a completely legitimte rape scenario. My/our boyfriend/master knows about this and he has advance orders to rape me properly when I'm out. If I go too long without being raped I get really depressive and craving.

That's pretty much about my story.

Soph xxx
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Old 05-07-2012, 01:58 PM   #307
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I have so many problems with sex - and have so many bad experiences - that it's difficult to know where to start.

My first sexual experience came when I was around nine or ten years old. My best friend along the road (another girl) talked me into playing a very explicit version of doctors and nurses. We would get naked, kiss and go down on each other - not knowing what we were doing, just that it felt really good. I have no idea where she learned stuff like that but we started introducing the game to other girls we knew. We just kind of stopped doing it after a while and never spoke of it. I have no idea if my bisexuality stems from these experiences, which were always fun; although as I grew older and more aware of what we were doing, I did begin to feel guilty about our "games".

As I grew older, my friends always seemed to be the ones that got the guys and I was a late bloomer, only losing my virginity at 18. After that, I made up for lost time and have slept with over 130 guys (roughly - some nights there were more than one and I would kind of lose count). I would meet guys at bars and clubs while pissed and because I was easy there was never any shortage of interest. It made me feel attractive and beautiful, even though they probably didn't care what I looked like!

Because I was getting myself into dodgy situations, bad things would happen. I never think of it as rape because I was going home willingly with these guys, engaging in foreplay and oral sex but sometimes things would happen that would make me change my mind. But rather than tell them this, I would just let them carry on. I didn't want the guy to lose interest in me, so I would let him do whatever he wanted even if inside I was saying no. So that's why it isn't rape; I never really told these guys "no" though this happened on several occasions. One of the worst one was when a guy I'd gone home with invited his three friends in to fuck me too, and I was half thrilled that four guys wanted to be with me and half terrified what was going to happen to me.

Ironically, the one time I was raped was by my then boyfriend. Wre'd had a tempestuous relationship with lots of violence and very violent sex. I was cooling off on the whole thing, but he still felt it was his right to fuck me, and made sure I knew it. It was while we were on holiday and I'd been fobbing him off for a week saying I wasn't in the mood and that I just wanted to sleep, but one night he just pushed me face down in the bed and without any warning started fucking me in the ass -something he had always begged me to try but I had always refused. Now I do it at the drop of a hat - a guy just has to ask!

Always eager to please, yet I have never once had an orgasm. Probably a therapist's dream Thanks for listening.
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Old 06-03-2012, 09:06 AM   #308
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I'm curious as to how rape affects victims after the event. Several of my friends have been sbjected to sexual attacks by some arseholes (one of whom will never be doing it again), and it's strange to see how their views on sex change afterwards. Many have become more liberal towards sex, which I suppose is common. Some have even become masochistic. I'm curious as to how the ladies here have seen their sexuality affected by such crimes?
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Old 06-17-2012, 12:30 AM   #309
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I was raped at the age of 13. My mothers dad had sexaully assaulted her and he had gone a step worse with me. He seemed nice at first and I couldn't beleive I beleived that guy. When he did I found out I was pregnnt having the baby but he purposely dropped my little Alex on the ground putting him in ICU and me having to pull the plug after 4 dys in it. I have thought it ws my fault, plus that I let that rapist hold my precous son. I have hated him since and will not even go in the same state as him since he lives in Colordo and I live in Kansas
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Old 08-25-2012, 04:13 PM   #310
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This thread confuses the fuck out of me this is a RAPE FANTASY site... It's generally accepted that we all get turned on by the thought of sexual domination to some degree. So with this site being basically an interactive porn hub, the true and traumatic stories of these poor girls will be used as cheap wanking material by a string of casual users. When a guy steps into a cage to beat the fuck out of another consenting adult we call it sport. When the same guy beats the fuck out of some random guy on the street we call it assault. I don't log on to the UFC website to hear stories from unfortunate people who have suffered horrific beatings, I log on for a bit of fun. So maybe there is a more appropriate forum for these brave women to express their problems free from exploitation? Call me a devil's advocate... But I'm just sayin'.
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Old 09-08-2012, 08:13 AM   #311
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Originally Posted by i_own_you View Post
This thread confuses the fuck out of me this is a RAPE FANTASY site... It's generally accepted that we all get turned on by the thought of sexual domination to some degree. So with this site being basically an interactive porn hub, the true and traumatic stories of these poor girls will be used as cheap wanking material by a string of casual users. When a guy steps into a cage to beat the fuck out of another consenting adult we call it sport. When the same guy beats the fuck out of some random guy on the street we call it assault. I don't log on to the UFC website to hear stories from unfortunate people who have suffered horrific beatings, I log on for a bit of fun. So maybe there is a more appropriate forum for these brave women to express their problems free from exploitation? Call me a devil's advocate... But I'm just sayin'.
haha this thread confuses me a bit too, but you know what, as a survivor of rape and as someone who has a rape fantasy, I personally don't mind if my real story is wanking material because I've masturbated to my own memories of the rape. Fucked up, I know.

Also, don't forget about the brave men who also shared their stories; men get raped too!
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Old 09-09-2012, 05:57 PM   #312
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Quote:
Originally Posted by i_own_you View Post
This thread confuses the fuck out of me this is a RAPE FANTASY site... It's generally accepted that we all get turned on by the thought of sexual domination to some degree. So with this site being basically an interactive porn hub, the true and traumatic stories of these poor girls will be used as cheap wanking material by a string of casual users. When a guy steps into a cage to beat the fuck out of another consenting adult we call it sport. When the same guy beats the fuck out of some random guy on the street we call it assault. I don't log on to the UFC website to hear stories from unfortunate people who have suffered horrific beatings, I log on for a bit of fun. So maybe there is a more appropriate forum for these brave women to express their problems free from exploitation? Call me a devil's advocate... But I'm just sayin'.
I agree with you to a point. While I might question turne motives of someone posting a real live exact event here, it is nice for the puirwlu fantasy part to see their reaction to stories. O know it has made me feel bwettter about this deviant part of myself.
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Old 09-10-2012, 11:43 AM   #313
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For some its a place to share what has happened with some open minded people, people who will show support without judging
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Old 11-27-2012, 09:22 AM   #314
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to all the women who have posted, my sincere apologies about what happened to you in the past! I've never been fully raped, but there was an attempt to once. I guess this is my story with a happy ending.

in the summer of 09' i was helping host our senior party. we got to have a 4 day long party with no parents in sight. so booze and teens mixed. anyways, on the second day it was my sober day to help keep things clean and make sure people were okay. a group of kids had ate some acid so i had to sit with them. i made a virgin strawberry daquiri for myself and was enjoying the funny trippers in the living room trying to keep them on a positive trip. i sat my drink down and went to the rest room. i came back and finished drinking my strawberry daiquiri when my friend ricki showed up from work. I started not feeling well, i was really dizzy and light headed like i was going to pass out, so I went and laid down in my friends little sisters room. i woke up to this creepy guy who had been hanging around that day trying to take my shirt off of me. i tripped out and started screaming for ricki! he and 4 other of my friends came rushing in and pinned dude down and started beating the crap out of him! we searched him and found condoms and a shit tone of roofies on him as well as some formaldehyde and some other shit. anyways, we kept the party favors and told dude to get gone before we had to call the cops and ruin everyone elses good time. since then Ive always had the question as to why I was the lucky one when my other girlfriends who have been raped or abused haven't been so lucky.
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Old 12-13-2012, 01:38 PM   #315
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Wow jasmine, i believe that rape fantasy is on ething but for you to have suffered and feel so alone my heart aches for you. You know you did not ask or want that to happen and hopefully your Uncle gets his beat and raped every day until he dies. I cannot imagine or feel your loss at that young age as i have 2 daughters myself an di know i would be in jail for killing anyone who had hurt my girls. So proud of you though for being able to share.
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Old 02-12-2013, 06:05 AM   #316
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Originally Posted by i_own_you View Post
This thread confuses the fuck out of me this is a RAPE FANTASY site... It's generally accepted that we all get turned on by the thought of sexual domination to some degree. So with this site being basically an interactive porn hub, the true and traumatic stories of these poor girls will be used as cheap wanking material by a string of casual users. When a guy steps into a cage to beat the fuck out of another consenting adult we call it sport. When the same guy beats the fuck out of some random guy on the street we call it assault. I don't log on to the UFC website to hear stories from unfortunate people who have suffered horrific beatings, I log on for a bit of fun. So maybe there is a more appropriate forum for these brave women to express their problems free from exploitation? Call me a devil's advocate... But I'm just sayin'.
It´s a good point of view. I have shared my real experiences here becuase I feel confident about this site. I´ve had a lot of feedback on my post and I´m glad of it. Anyway, if anyone reads it to excite himself I just have to admit it, I know that I run that risk.

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Originally Posted by numbers View Post
haha this thread confuses me a bit too, but you know what, as a survivor of rape and as someone who has a rape fantasy, I personally don't mind if my real story is wanking material because I've masturbated to my own memories of the rape. Fucked up, I know.

Also, don't forget about the brave men who also shared their stories; men get raped too!
I suffered an attempted raped, and I amit that I´ve fantasised about the rapist ends the raped, and masturbated too.

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I agree with you to a point. While I might question turne motives of someone posting a real live exact event here, it is nice for the puirwlu fantasy part to see their reaction to stories. O know it has made me feel bwettter about this deviant part of myself.
I feel better too.
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Old 02-23-2013, 10:09 PM   #317
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I was alone at my house on my bed with my neighbor we will call her Jenny. We were doing homework just like she had done for several years. I was wearing a simple pink t-shirt and matching shorts with no socks. She was 36 and I was 14. I leaned over to ask her a question about a problem then she started smelling my red hair telling me how wonderful my hair smelled. Then she started rubbing my arm telling me how creamy my young skin is.

Just as I was about to tell her to stop, she threw me onto the bed. I was screaming bloody murder. She grabbed both of my arms and put them above me with one arm. And the other she raised my t-shirt and bra. She started sucking and biting my tiny pink nipples.

She was telling me how long she waited for this moment. She then put her hand down my shorts rubbing my pussy. She then told me that she couldn't wait to get me down to her dungeon. Just as she was getting going, I heard a noise at the door. It was my dad. He grabbed her off of me and called the police.

Several months later I was taken to the trial and had to testify about what had happened. As I was talking, I looked over to the jury and one guy put a notebook over his pants and he started playing with his dick. Her lawyer claimed that I came onto her and that the whole thing was consensual.

When she testified she claimed mental disease, then she claimed that she was tickling me. Then she finally confessed. She said that she had planned on kidnapping me, taking me to a friends house, torture me and then let her lesbian and Domme girlfriends borrow me and use me.

For the first few years I had terrible nightmares and I even went to see a shrink for a while. But just recently I have had dreams and fantasies about it thinking What If. What if my dad didn't come home. Would I be some woman's slave naked and chained up in a dungeon somewhere?

Now I love talking about it to older women and sometimes men and it turns me on. I would love to relive my youth and what happened. I even have a guy that I met that is going to write a sex story about what could have happened to me.
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Old 02-28-2013, 12:15 AM   #318
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The way I look at it is - if you get off on memories of your own rape, you're in a much better place than someone who becomes a hermit because of them.
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Old 03-24-2013, 07:14 AM   #319
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I was raped when I was 16 years old by my best friend Melanie's Dad who also was a sheriff's deputy.

I had been all day at Melanie's birthday party and we had been in our bikinis the whole day at their pool. Her Dad had always been nice to me but really almost too nice and flirty the way 40 year old men should not be with a 16 year old. Looking back several times he would take pictures of us but then he always seemed to find me alone where he would want me to pose so he could get pics of me but never where his wife or daughter would see him.

Well, the party was about over and I didn't have a car so her Dad was going to drive me home. Mel normally would have gone with us but she had too much sun and had thrown up and was staying home. Then he offered to take me home by boat because with traffic he said it would be quicker and much more fun. I guess had I been wiser I could have sensed something wasn't right but then I guess I felt safe because of who he was.

We take off in the boat and he veers off to the pass and says he wants to see how many boats were out that day. I just accept it but soon we are through the pass and out into the gulf and there are no other boats around. Derek stops the boat and tells me he wants to take some pictures. I was feeling quite weird about this again its not like he hasn't taken pictures before in my bikini. He tells me I should be a professional model. He also thinks I should be a dancer/stripper and tells me he knows the owner of Sammy’s (a strip club on the island) and can make sure I get the premium shifts to make the most money. He tells me to take off my shorts and tank top so he can take pictures of me in my bikini. He gets out his camera and one of the old VHS cameras and sets it up to make a movie of me. I just stood there and told him I just want to go home. He became more persuasive saying this would help me get started "in the business" and he could show the manager at Sammy’s my pictures. I just wanted to make him stop so I said "okay, just a few pictures but then I need to get home" and I took off my tank top and shorts and felt so naked standing in front of him alone in my tiny bikini but I could tell he was really pleased. Several times I saw him touching himself but I tried not to notice. He took his shirt off and asked if I liked his body. I was really feeling uncomfortable and asked again to just be taken home. He then told me to take off my bikini because the Sammy’s manager would want to see me without my clothes on. He just kept telling me to "do it for the camera" and that I needed to look good that I was now in a movie. I was really getting scared and started to plead for him to take me home. He was still filming but then put down his camera on the deck and carefully positioned it so as to film us and removed his shorts. He was very turned on and he wanted me to see it. He was getting very angry and told me to think carefully how I should obey him because otherwise no one would ever find my body. He held me against him and eventually he was able to get his mouth on mine. I knew that he was capable if carrying out his threat and I was so scared that I just closed my eyes and kissed him back. I think I hoped he might ease up and realize that he was acting badly but instead he kissed me harder and deeper and his hands began to remove my bikini and things escalated so rapidly that he had me on the floor of the boat on my back with his face between my legs. I just lay there and tried to imagine I was already home and how maybe someone would come up to rescue me.

He took his time until he eventually worked my body into an orgasm. He got up and left me laying there in the floor of the boat as he went to get us beers. He was suddenly drinking and being very chatty and he showered me with compliments that I have an incredible body and how beautiful I look and how I needed to be the wife of someone important and have babies. He told me he wanted to leave his wife and sail away to live on his boat with me. It seemed that things were getting better but I wasn’t drinking the beer and when he saw this his mood seemed to darken and he told me to that if I wasn’t going to talk and drink his beer then he would show me how to put my mouth to good use. I was afraid of the look in his eyes so I did as he wanted. I really thought that if I could please him and make him think I was going along with his plan that he would take me home and this would all be over. He sat there with his arms over the back railings of the boat as I performed oral sex on him. Eventually he came and it got all over me and the deck of the boat. He was so angry that I wouldn't swallow him and made a huge mess all over the deck that he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me down in the ship’s galley where he handcuffed me face down on the bed.

For me psychologically this was the worse part. I could hear him turning through charts and figured he was looking for the right place to leave my body. He didn’t talk to me again for several hours and it was now very dark outside. He kept checking his VHS camera to make sure it was ready again and turned it on. He then sat on the edge of the bed and asked me to look into the camera, “Are you having fun, Jen?” I can remember feeling the anger inside of me but I tried to remain calm. I answered that it could be better if I wasn’t handcuffed. He answered that it was just part of the “game” and that he would release me soon. He asked me how many times I had “goofed around” with my boyfriends. I figured he meant had sex but I didn’t want to go back down that road so I answered something like we always like to go places and have fun. Then I could feel that change in him as he grabbed my hair and put his mouth next to my ear and whispered, “No not that I mean f***** you. How many times have they used your little c***..your sweet little p****...a girl with a body like that does not remain a virgin long.” My mind raced and I quickly just blurted out that I had been sexually active three times. I suppose I could have said I was a virgin and maybe I should have tried that. Likely Mel might have told him I wasn’t a virgin. Not sure which is the right thing to say. He then wanted names. I hadn’t expected this and remember feeling sweaty and cold and just sick. He started naming guys that Mel and I would know from school and I picked one or two and told him I sometimes had sex with them. He seemed to begin to lose it again talking about girls having sex in high school and I could hear the anger in his voice. He began to talk about how I looked in my clothes and the bikinis I would wear. He told me he masturbated all the time looking at my pictures and then he carefully placed the camera where it could film us. He pulled me down the bed as far as my arms would let him since I was still handcuffed to the top of the bed and he put a pillow under my stomach to elevate me and then spit and began working his fingers inside me. I then felt his weight on top of me as he pushed inside me. I cried for him to stop and this really enraged him and he grabbed my throat and proceeded to choke me as he whispered the most horrible things into my ear. He wanted me to tell him to be harder or that I loved him...or that I was just a sl*t w**re then he would release his grip and I would say what he wanted only to again feel his hand tighten as I fought to breath.

As he finished I could again sense that he had changed. He lay beside me and rubbed my back and asked me where I wanted to sail to next. He talked about getting supplies and buying me clothes and jewelry which was all so strange considering I was still laying on my stomach my arms above my head with my wrists handcuffed. He left me and I could hear him making something to eat and getting another beer. He played with the video camera and started a movie on the TV and took off the handcuffs. We sat in his bed and ate sandwiches and I actually drank the beer he offered in what was the surreal 2 hours watching "Back to the Future." He held me and eventually I dozed off I was so exhausted from the birthday party and from the alcohol. I awoke to his kissing my mouth and pushing his tongue into my mouth. He became more aggressive and began biting over my breasts and down my stomach. He became more verbal again calling me horrible names and again rolled me onto my stomach and forcing my hands above my head he handcuffed me to the bed. He then sodomized me. This was horribly brutal as he grabbed my throat and squeezed and some point I lost consciousness.

I awoke and he was in the shower. He took off the handcuffs and got me off the bed and led me to the shower and left me alone for the first time all night as I tried to shower all of his sex off my body. He had laid out my clothes from the bag I had brought to his daughter's birthday. The boat was moving and he yelled down for me to come up on deck. He was like a completely different man as he chatted about the party and his daughter and how he hoped we would go to college together. When we got to my grandparents dock it was about 8 in the morning. My assault on his boat had lasted all night. He walked me up to the house and came in like nothing happened. I went to shower again and I could hear him in there having breakfast and talking with my grandfather. I locked my door and cried myself to sleep. Later my mother commented on how tired I looked and that I must have stayed up after the party all night. She actually grounded me from staying with a friend for a month.

My family is hyper-religious and there is just no place for any talk of sexuality. I basically had no avenues to report the rape and I was very fearful that he would come back for me to do this again or even kill me or my family.
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Old 04-28-2013, 07:04 PM   #320
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Default Real Rape, My Rape, And Why It Gets Me Hot

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?
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