Posted by Barbanne on July 21, 2000 at 16:15:36:
This is a story I wrote in 1998 and it lived for a short time on Femmes Obscure. It is nowhere else on the web and my purpose in giving it to you is to get it stored in the archive.
:) sneaky dame
MY DAY TURNED OUT BAD.
You know how some days are diamonds, some days are stones, as the old song used to say. Well, this day was my stone. No, a rock. A bloody boulder in fact.
It's all a while ago now.
I was sixteen at the time. Sixteen, pretty in the way all girls of that age are pretty, and boy crazy. I mean I was obsessed with boys. I couldn't get enough of them. I had pics all over my walls of Brad Pitt and various footballers and a couple of spunks from school and I'd spend hours lying on my bed looking at the pics and having fantasies and in each one, no matter what happened in the main plot, the ending was always the same. HE would come upon me, shaking and frightened and oh, so aroused and sensuous and HE would press me down and we'd have dynamite sex. I mean earthquake stuff.
I'd only had sex once and it wasn't dynamite. Not even a small cracker. It was at the back of the public toilets on Bondi Beach, I was just fifteen and it was late one night and I was out way past when I was allowed to be and he wasn't Brad Pitt, he was Elmo Johnson and he had pimples even worse than me and he'd been drinking beer. He dragged me down onto the sand and I let it happen because that's sort of how it happened in my fantasies. He fumbled a lot and he fumbled even worse with my stuff and I had to take off my own top and bra because he would never have worked it out. I did it surreptitiously so he'd think he'd done it and I had to put his hands on my jeans and panties to help him get that right too. Jeez how hard is it to pull a girl's panties off when she's willing! But he was such a dork. At least he had a condom on, I think he'd had it on all night in the hope that he'd get lucky. Well he did. Of course I think the other boys set him up. I heard them say stuff like, "Barbara's aching for it mate." and, "Barbara bangs like a dunny lid mate." and, "Barbara spends her nights lying on her back in hope, mate." Well, it was over so fast I didn't even know it had happened. I mean I could smell him and he wasn't too crash hot. Sweaty and beery and he finally got his thing into me and he started jumping around and grunting and then he sighed and rolled over and said, "Jeez that was good. That was fantastic."
"What?" I wanted to ask him but I didn't want to appear dumb.
"Was that good Barb. Jeez you're hot!"
"Er yeah." When does it start? I wanted to ask.
You'd think after a lousy start like that I'd be convinced this sex wasn't all that great. No way. Boys still occupied heaps of my thinking time. In fact, as I have said before, I was obsessed with boys. Flirted like crazy and never missed an opportunity to flash a leg or flaunt my breasts or show a glimpse of panties and thighs whenever I felt I had an audience. I was a bit of a tart. But in reality a harmless one. I mean I could even have been called a teenage tease and an underage strumpet, but I was never a slut.
That day started out alright. I got up, mooned about for a while like young girls do. Planned stuff as I did every day. Stuff that never seemed to come to anything. Fantasised like mad and finally got myself ready to go out with my girl friends. Tammy and Sam and I were going to hit the town. What we did when we hit it would be what we always did. Sort of nothing. I mean we talked big and discussed how we'd go out and hit a few joints and suck some sodas and check out the talent and we giggled a lot about how we'd get laid and stuff. Truth is that after walking around in convoy for a while we'd come home and brag about what would have happened if only the other two hadn't been there. You know like, "If you guys hadn't been there I'd have scored with that guy for sure." and, "Did you see the way he was eyeing me? He's hot for me I can tell. Bet he was boning real hard looking at me. If I'd wanted I could have had it for sure." and "Jeez they all look at me like they want it so bad, but I know that's all there is with the bastards and I won't give 'em the satisfaction."
Stuff like that. Bullshit really.
Truth is we were socially hopelessly naive and our whole scene was an act of bravado.
But, remember I was boy mad. Its all I mostly thought about. So, I decided I had to look real, real cool. I got out my jeans. Then I put them back and got out my skirt. Truth is I think I look heaps better in a skirt. It was denim too and had like big exposed buttons down the front and about four of 'em got you to the hem because it only reached mid thigh. I had a short sleeved velour top, very popular that year, that had a scooped neckline and stopped just above my belly button leaving about five centimetres of skin showing. My shoes were Minnie Mousers, black, strappy and elevated heels. I started at the bottom. Put on patterned cotton panties with white lace trims around the legs and waist. White cotton bra, but fairly skimpy and it pushed what breasts I had up and out giving me a decollettage. (is that the word? shoved up tits is probably a better description.) I combed my hair down. It was crinkly permed and had a green streak in amongst the natural reddish brown. I lashed on eye make up. I reckon big black eyes are as sexy as hell. Lots of dark eye shadow and then eyelash gunk by the dollops. I painted my lips red. Red lippy with a tinge of glitter through it. I dressed in my skirt and top and put on a few jangly bracelets and a necklet I really loved.
I looked fabulous.
Tammy and Sam rocked up just after lunch and we set out. We got a bus into town and got out on the square and walked down gawping in shops and giggling a lot and ogling stuff we couldn't buy in a year. Tammy had jeans and a top a bit like mine. Sam had an organza dress that you could see straight through but she had a petticoat on underneath. We looked what we were. Three healthily attractive chicks out on the prowl.
We had coffee and I gazed at the passing parade. Spunks everywhere. I was raging and my pals just laughed at me. You know stuff like, "Barb you're hopeless. She's the limit don't you think?" and "Bet you'd faint if one of 'em actually chatted you up."
I thought "I'll show you two something."
We walked right through town and down the terrace to where it joins that street opposite the uni. We turned there and walked up by the lane at the back of the church and there was a bunch of dudes sitting there, drinking, and as we passed they whistled.
"Hey girls wanna..........., you know.................?"
"Nice dress honey, pity about your petticoat."
Lots of laughter.
"Hey sweetie do them buttons undo?" Loud whistles.
Boys! They needed showing a thing or two. Besides they were boys.
I said to the others. "Wait a minute."
"No Barb. What are you doing?"
"Don't encourage them Barb."
"Well, walk on cowards. I'll catch you up."
I turned and walked over to the boys.
"Barb, come back."
"Let her go if she wants to. Lets get out of here."
"Scaredy's" I shot over my shoulder as I walked over to the guys to a cacophony of whistles and cat calls and ribaldry.
I walked up to them and stood and said "What's with you guys. Never seen a girl before."
"Not like you beautiful."
"Hey sweetheart, join us."
Emboldened, boy crazy, I saw my chance. "OK guys, here I am. So what are you going to do about it?" I walked in amongst them. Without warning I felt myself grabbed and pulled in amongst a group of young men. They smelled of beer. I said "Hey! hands off!" I looked over my shoulder but Tammy and Sam were gone. I was surrounded by sweaty, boozy men. Their hands were all over me. "Hey!" I shouted. "Leave off." I opened my mouth to scream and something hit me and I went down and out.
Jason couldn't believe it when one of the young girls turned and started walking over. The one in the denim mini made up like Dracula's bride.
"Hey look at this." he said to the others.
"Well, well. The little chick's looking for it."
"Guys?" said Jason.
Beery, boozy, "Yeah?"
"Let's do her."
They went quiet and watched her walk over. She came up very close. Stood there hands on hips.
"OK guys here I am. So what are you going to do about it?"
She walked in amongst them. Hands clutched and grabbed at her, she shouted at them. Shouted to leave her alone. She opened her mouth and a scream started and Bonzo hit her with a beer bottle and she went down in a heap.
Jason looked down at her. She was only a kid. She was lying half on her side, face down. Her legs were twisted one over the other. Her skirt had ridden up a bit and the lacy hem of her panties showed. Nice firm thigh showing too. "Tasty." Thought Jason. There was blood oozing from a cut on the girl's head where she had been struck. She'd have a lump and a headache when she came to.
"Let's get her out of here," he said, "before them other two bitches come back looking for her. Bonz get the van."
He grabbed the girl by the arms and half lifted her. Her top rode up displaying several centimetres of bare skin and flat, lean tummy. "Jack, get her legs." Another youth grabbed her ankles and together they lifted her up. She sagged between their grasp, her long hair trailing down. A spot of blood dripped from her head wound and splashed on the ground. A dark, closed van backed into the lane.
Jason and Jack carried the unconscious girl to the van and, opening the rear doors, dumped her inside. The youths, there were five all told, climbed in with her. They slammed the rear doors and the van accelarated away down the lane and out onto the main street.
Two minutes later Tammy and Sam re-appeared. When they saw the boys were gone they walked slowly over to where they had been.
"Barb, you there?"
"Where's she gone?"
"Must of gone with them."
"She wouldn't be that stupid."
"I dunno, maybe she would."
"Oh my God! This is blood. We better tell someone. I'm going to the police."
"Not the police. I don't want to get involved."
"We should never have left her."
"She shouldn't have been so stupid."
"We gotta get the police."
The van bounced across the rough dirt track. The girl's dress, at best very short, rode up, revealing her panties. A boy laughed and placed his hand on her thigh.
"I'm gonna enjoy this." He laughed.
"We all are." General laughter.
He slipped his fingers under her pantie leg and found her prickly little bush. He probed and found the damp opening in between the folds of flesh. He slid a finger in and then a second. "Oh yeah this'll be fun."
I heard a groaning and laughter.
I was lying on something hard and cold and metallic and uncomfortable.
I felt a finger probing my pussy.
I realised I was the one groaning. My head ached abominably. I felt with my hand and found a lump and sticky wetness........blood! I opened my eyes.
The van had stopped and I heard the boys talking.
"I am of course."
"We'll draw straws to pick an order."
"I don't want to bat on a real sticky wicket." Laughter.
"What are you doing? Where are we?"
"In your sylvan boudoir madamme." Laughter.
"What are you talking about?"
The fair boy I had seen first thrust his face in mine. Now that I saw him close, I realised he was more of a man. He looked very nasty. "He means we're in the woods where you are going to be the centre piece of a gang bang bitch!"
"Raped until you can't walk bitch!!"
I started screaming.
Two of them pushed me to the ground and someone said "Scream all you want slut, there's no-one will hear you out here."
"Oh shut her up." said another voice, loud, harsh, filled with hate.
Someone pushed a filthy tasting rag into my mouth and I gagged. Two of the boys were holding me down. The fair one, he was called Jason, came over.
"Now you filthy little slut. This is what you wanted, this is what you'll get."
He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. His underpants were bulging at the front. I watched horrified, the gag becoming slimy with my saliva. He tweaked off his underpants and his thing was erect and curving out and up. It looked enormous and it was all I could look at. I thought "God he's not going to put that thing in me!" He knelt over me and tugged at my skirt. It wouldn't come down over my hips. He snarled in frustration and grabbing the waist band pulled savagely at it. The zipper ripped away from the cloth and such was his strength the denim cloth ripped all the way down to the stitched hem. He yanked my wrecked skirt down. His big dirty paw grasped my cotton panties and he pulled them down around my ankles. He grinned at me, an inhuman smirk and then he shoved my top up, caught my bra and pushed both articles of clothing up under my armpits and chin. He roughly fondled my breasts, hurting them, hurting my nipples. Then he settled over me and his thing went inside me. It hurt. Hurt like hell. He pumped his hips and it rasped inside my pussy. All I was aware of was pain. Pain in my vagina and humiliation in my head. I cursed myself for a brazen stupid girl. He grunted and pumped and I felt his muck squirt into me. "Good stuff." he said, and rolled off and stood pulling up his pants. A greasy, black haired boy with acne pulled his pants down and covered me and again I felt his erect thing go inside me. He jerked around and said "Oh yeah baby, Oh baby, this is good." Stuff like that until finally, he too, squirted sticky stuff into me. My whole groin area was sore and my pussy felt painfully tender. Another boy, very young with carroty red hair and pimples straddled me and groaned and grunted until he had ejaculated inside me. I was becoming catatonic. My eyes were fixed and my head had gone somewhere as the procession continued. A fat boy, really fat and smelling evilly of BO and stale beer mounted me and it took him an awfully long time to reach his climax. The others were drinking beer all the while and they yelled at him, "C'mon fatso. Get going fat boy. Ram it into her fatty." Then another. I think he was fair too. He settled on me and shoved his thing at me. By now my whole vagina was red raw and aching and hurting like blazes. He pumped and grunted and squirted stuff in there just like the others. I felt wet and sticky between my legs and was half out of it. Bonzo, the one who had driven the van, was last. He was really big and had tattoos all down his arms and he stank vilely of booze and sweat. His cock was enormous and it hurt terribly when he put it in. Then he rammed at me like a piston and I tried to scream but the soggy mess of cloth in my mouth just made me gag and make mmmmppphhh sounds. Bonzo took what seemed forever before he jerked to satisfaction and clambered up from me. "Bitch!" he screamed, "she's bled all over me. Filthy bitch!" With that, he bunched his fist and smashed it into the side of my head, catching me just on the left temple and I went out.
I woke up.
My face was raw with beard rash, my breasts felt as if they had been pummelled unmercifully and my vagina was hurting, just as if a fire was raging inside it. I was on my back and I was cold and I was shivering uncontrollably. A lot of it would be shock. I felt tears come and I cried. I spat the gag out.
They were gone although empty beer bottles littered the ground as evidence of their presence. I wanted to die. I closed my eyes and held my breath and tried to die. All I did was splutter and choke. I passed out again.
It was dark and I was very cold.
I got up, slowly, gingerly. I hurt unmercifully. I had blood on my inner thighs and around my vagina. I pulled up my panties and they stained red. I pulled down my top and bra. I tried to pull up my skirt but it was wrecked and I had to hold it around me. I looked around. In the distance I could see headlights. I walked toward them. I stumbled and fell, several times. Eventually I reached the road and stood at the side waving at the lights as they went by. Nobody stopped. I wondered if I'd flag down a car full of rapists and get violated again. I started giggling and shivering and then I was hysterical. I began wavering and felt sure I was going to faint. Cars rushed by unheeding. Then one set of lights slowed down and a truck pulled over. Door slammed and a big woman said "What in hell has happened to you. Oh honey!" I registered a second car stopping, badge on the side, blue and red lights on top. Police. Two officers came around. The woman from the truck had bought a blanket and threw it around me. She had a huge matronly bosom and my dam walls burst and, sobbing incoherently, I fell against her and she wrapped her arms around me.
They extricated me from the lady and got me into the back of the patrol car. One of the officers got in with me. He was kind and spoke softly. I shrank away from him and huddled in one corner, hugging the blanket around me and sobbing.
They must have driven me to a police station.
I remembered lights and a room and a policewoman took my clothes what was left of them and put them in evidence bags, They gave me a white smock to wear and after a while a lady doctor came and examined me. She lay me on a bed and recorded my injuries and took swabs. Then the police woman took me to the showers and I washed. I scrubbed and scrubbed at myself until at last she had to pull me from the shower. They took me back and found me a bed and the doctor gave me an injection and I sank into blessed darkness.
The police interviewed me. I told them I had been pack raped. I told them there were six of them. One's name was Jason, he was the ringleader, another was known as Bonzo. I described them as best I could.
They took me home to my guardians.
Auntie shrieked and had to be treated for shock.
I went to my bedroom and took down all the pictures. Every male there. Even Brad Pitt. I lay on my bed. I brooded.
A few days later the police took me back and showed me some photos. Later again they organised a line up. Neither got anywhere. After a few weeks it went on the back burner.
I felt low.
I disgusted myself.
I was beneath contempt.
My life assumed some normalcy.
I started doing things again, but I begged off whenever boys were going to be involved. Tammy and Sam were good to me but the intimacy we had had was gone forever.
I was a bit hermit like.
One night I finished at the cafe where I had a job waiting on tables and after changing out of my uniform started walking to the bus. It was about nine o'clock and it was dark and as I passed the pub a voice said to me.
My blood froze. I recognised Jason. He walked up to me. I was petrified.
"How could I forget?"
"You're scum girl. You got what you asked for."
I found myself nodding. I WAS scum.
"Come with me."
I had no will of my own. He took my hand and led me to a car. It was a nice car. New. Expensive. He opened the door and I got in. He got behind the wheel and drove off. I looked at him. He was quite good looking, with blue eyes and long blonde hair. He was nicely dressed. I reckoned he was about thirty years old. We didn't talk and after twenty minutes he pulled up in front of a darkened house. He got out and held the car door for me. I got out and we walked to the door. He unlocked it with a key and we went inside. When he turned on the lights I saw we were in a living room with pale wall to wall carpet, a leather lounge suite and a cabinet and coffee and side tables.
"Sit down." I sat.
He made himself a drink. Scotch or something.
"Drink?" he said.
I shook my head, "No. I never drink."
He sat in a chair opposite me. Sipped his drink and said "Take off your clothes."
I stood and stripped down to my underwear.
"Everything." He said.
I took off my panties and bra.
"Come here." He beckoned.
I started to walk over.
"No." he said, "Crawl. On hands and knees."
I got down and crawled over.
"Unzip me. Get it out."
I unzipped his pants, found his underpants, pulled them down. Lifted out his cock in my small hands. "OK" He said. I stroked it found it growing in my hands. "Head" He said. I opened my mouth and swallowed his cock. I sucked and pulled and he moaned and groaned. I teased his cock and sucked and pulled at it and soon he ejaculated into my mouth. I looked up at him.
He mounted me from behind and screwed me that way.
"Now girl. What's your name?"
"Well Barbara, you're going to be my sex slave. You'll do anything I want, no matter how filthy, disgusting, or depraved. You'll do it because you're a tramp, scum, filth, nothing."
I knew he was right.
He let me out and I walked until I found a bus stop and went home that way. I said nothing to anybody.
He was waiting for me the next night.
Again he made me undress and crawl around on hands and knees while he did stuff to me. Again, when he had finished he threw me out.
It became a regular thing. Not every night, about three times a week. He would be waiting for me and I would have to go with him and he'd abuse me.
It was what I deserved.
I decided I had to die.
Having made that decision made it easier.
Friday night he picked me up again. It was earlier and when we got to his house there were lights on. He showed me into another room. A basement room, like a home gym. He told me to strip and wait for him. I did and he went upstairs.
When he came back, he had a scotch in a short glass. He told me to kiss his cock. I got it out and did. Then he did stuff to me and I felt tears wetting my cheeks. He handed me his empty glass and told me to fill it. There was a sink and a fridge. I walked over to it and made another drink. I saw a knife with a fifteen centimetre, serrated blade lying there. It was used to cut lemons for mixer drinks. I picked it up and went back to him. I handed him the drink and then jerked up my hand with the knife in it and plunged it into his neck. I must have hit the aorta. He bellowed and blood fountained out. It squirted all over me washing my breasts and running on to my tummy. He thrashed around sceaming and the blood kept fountaining. I was covered in it. Slick with his blood from head to toe. I fell to the floor and sat there bathed in bright red blood. I heard voices and shouting and screams and turned my head. It took a lot to do it, I was very tired. There were people on the stairs looking at us in horror. A woman and two young children.
"Jason!" She shrieked.
"Daddy." They screamed.
Like I said, it all happened quite some time ago.
I was arrested and tried for murder, second degree. I was found guilty, with mitigating circumstances, and sentenced to detention in a psychiatric ward. The psychiatrists talked to me a lot and one made a report to the courts that, in his opinion, the brutalisation I had suffered had unhinged my mind and the parole board granted me parole.
That psychiatrist, he was a nice guy and he talked to me a lot about why I let Jason take control of me a second time. He probed me and had me talk out everything, my early childhood, the problems, my attitude to my foster parents and my sexual experiences. He probed and probed until I admitted how ordinary my sexual education had been and how far short of my fantasies it had fallen. He seemed interested in my fantasies and had me talk them through at length. He listened and one day he said, "You have very strange and slightly worrying fantasies, Barbara and I suspect you display signs of submissiveness which is unusually broadly based. Where a lot of girls have these feelings and find a healthy release in some sort of sex play, yours dominate you and your personality to an amazing extent. Unhealthily so. I think this aspect of your character is what makes you a classic victim type. You went looking for the sort of trouble that resulted in your horrendous multiple rape. Subconsciously you accept that, which is why you submitted to Jason. When he said you were a slut who was asking for it, you felt that to be true. And in one respect it is.
I thought about it.
I brought it on myself.
Of course, when you think about it, I did. I feel worthless because I am worthless.
As I said, this guy got me parole by making the board see this aspect of me. I am and will always be a victim.
When I got out, he saw me in a non professional way.
We went out, became friends, then partners and finally lovers.
I love him so very much. He is my saviour, my master. I listen to him sleeping, steadily breathing in the bed where we so recently made love. He's so beautiful. He really loves and appreciates me for who I am.
That's why he chains me in this dog collar at the foot of his bed where I belong.