Sherry’s Tale
Foreword: Please welcome back Selwyn and his gret new rape story!
I am Sherry, and this happened just after finishing high school.
I had lived with only my mother since I was twelve, after my father had left. She almost re-married once, when I was 14, she but broke it off suddenly, and dramatically, when her soon-to-be new husband started eyeing me. One day he came into my room and tried to touch my breasts. Fortunately my mother came by unexpectedly, and he ran off for good.
Now, four years later, mother was still very suspicious of any boys. I wasn’t allowed out much. It was almost like she feared that I "knew too much," and might become promiscuous just because I had once attracted an older man’s attention. It was very frustrating. . . she insisted that I be home very early (never later than 10:00 PM), and any boys that did come around were treated so coldly that they soon lost interest.
I did date a little, secretly. I had a friend, Kristin, and I often spent nights at her place. Mom didn’t know that we sometimes did double-dates with her boyfriend and a few guys that I liked. It was all very innocent, usually an evening bowling and a few snacks. These were the only times I was out past 10:00. Nothing much ever happened with these boys, never more than a little kissing, but it was great to feel normal for even a short while. On those days I could dress more prettily, and make up my face (mom didn’t like that). Now and then Kristin and I had some naughty fun, we sometimes smoked cigarettes in secret, but since mom smoked herself she never suspected.
What’s hard to get is that mom was a bit of a slut herself. One reason I spent many weekends with Kristin is that mom was out running around most Saturdays. She’d hit the bars, either with the latest guy she had found somewhere, or she’d find one after going out. I know that sometimes they went back to our home for the night. I am glad that I was gone these nights. Still, she thought that I should spend my life almost completely isolated, that nothing but problems would come if I even dated normally. Somehow she thought she’d prevent me from learning any more about sex.
In the weeks after I graduated high school I spent a lot of time home alone, more than before. Early one afternoon I was in my room trying out different looks and outfits. I don’t think so, but people like to tell me how pretty I am. My breasts are a bit larger than most other girls, and I have quite thick, bushy dark hair.
I had a few outfits that mom didn’t know about. I tried on a medium length-skirt, but added a rather tight blouse, and I ended up looking a bit slutty, my breasts obviously bulging against the buttons. I’d never go out dressed like this, but it was fun to play with this look. I thought it would be fun to add to the "slut look" with some heavy makeup. I wasn’t supposed to wear it, but I had a bit of a stash that I took with me when I went on those secret dates with Kristin and her boyfriend.
I added some dark mascara and eyeliner to go with my dark hair, and just a bit of shadow. I took the shine off my naturally light skin with a bit of powder, and then I had some fun trying different lipsticks. I had several, but only wore the lighter shades when out on my secret dates. I tried one modest red shade, which looked quite nice. I do have rather broad, full lips, and the deeper color really made them stand out.
Then I thought, why not have some more fun? I had a really deep red that I had never worn. Don’t know why I bought it, I knew I’d feel real conspicuous wearing it in public, but now, alone, where no one would see, it might be fun to get a look at myself with it. I wiped off the lighter lipstick, then took my dark lipliner (which I had never used either), and carefully outlined my lips. The clear outline around my mouth made my lips look even bigger. Then, I slowly, carefully glided the deep red lipstick around my mouth. Two or three times I circled my lips, making sure to keep within the outline, then pressed them together when I was done.
The effect was surprising. I hardly recognized face, any time I had used makeup before was always very subdued. Mom would go nuts if she saw me like this! My darkly lined eyes and black mascara, against my dark hair, with that deep, glossy red lipstick made me look like I was begging for attention. Good thing this was just for fun, I could never go on a date looking like this. Just to finish off the "slutty look," I took out my hidden cigarettes and lit one. The mirror showed an almost completely different girl, sexy and sultry, a tell-tale lipstick print on the cigarette.
Suddenly I heard the doorbell, and shot of fear ran through me, thinking my mother was home. I ran to the bathroom and flushed my cigarette down the toilet. She shouldn’t be home yet, her quitting time wasn’t for a few hours. But then, she wouldn’t ring the bell anyway. I looked out the window and saw the Cable Company truck in the driveway. I was relieved, but didn’t remember mom saying anything about them coming by today. We were having trouble with our television system though, so it wasn’t a total surprise. I hesitated to go downstairs looking like this, but the cable people are so unpredictable that I didn’t want to wait another few weeks for them to come back. So, a bit reluctantly, I went downstairs to let him in.
The guy was surprised to see me. "Is your mother here? I’m here to fix the cable," he said.
"No, she’s at work. Won’t be back for a few hours," I replied.
I felt very conspicuous in my somewhat short skirt, tight blouse and heavy make-up. I hoped that he didn’t really notice.
And, he didn’t seem to think much of it. He went to the wall and removed the cable from the television, testing it with some sort of meter.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I was uncomfortable being with him the way I looked, but didn’t want to leave him alone there.
He didn’t give me much attention. Looking at his meter and then scribbling on some papers, he said, without looking up, "Do you have any other cable connections?"
"Yes, one upstairs," I replied.
I turned to go up the stairs and he followed. I felt really uncomfortable as he walked behind, just below me, face-level with my short skirt. I hoped he would be gone soon.
"It’s in here," I said, gesturing to my mother’s room. He went in and began to test the cable.
While he was busy I took the opportunity to return to my room and begin to change. This was a bit embarrassing, I never intended anyone to see me like this. I found my daily casual shorts and shirt, threw them on the bed, and sat down to begin taking off that make-up.
Suddenly I saw him at the door. "I’m done," he announced. "There’s some papers here for you."
I didn’t like him walking into my room like that, but, I thought, he’s done and can go now. I stood up and went toward him.
He stepped forward to hand the papers to me, and it struck me that he approached a little closer than people usually do. His breathing seemed a little strained.
"That’s a cute outfit you’ve got," he said.
I didn’t like this at all, but hoped he’d just leave. I didn’t respond. Then, my heart jumped as I felt a hand on my waist. "What are you doing?" I gasped.
"Looking for a little fun. Isn’t that why you dressed like that for me?"
"I was just playing, I didn’t know you were coming." I desperately hoped he would leave now.
To my horror, he grabbed me round the waist with both arms, held me very tightly, and kissed me hard on the lips. I was so surprised that I couldn’t move back quickly enough, and I tried to turn away.
He persisted. I turned my head this way and that, but couldn’t get away from the pressure of his mouth as it pressed against mine. Steadily he pushed me backwards until I was against the bed, then with a sudden shove he pushed me over onto my back, and stood there leering.
"What are you doing?" I sobbed, but really didn’t need to ask. It was getting clear.
"Bet you’re a little slut like your cocksucking mother," he said as he fell on top of me, again pressing his lips against mine. I turned my head and let out a muffled scream, but knew no one would hear. The windows were all closed because the air conditioning was on. I was alone and helpless, no one was going to come.
He reached down and pushed my knees apart, then heaved the weight of his pelvis against mine as he pinned my arms over my head. I gasped for air, I could hardly breathe with his weight atop me, and fear shot through my chest as I felt the bulge in his pants pressing against my pelvis. I had seen naked men only in pictures, but my friend Kristin had told me some things. . . she and her boyfriend had played around a little, and she told me how his penis got really hard, and how a sticky fluid came out of it when he got really excited.
"Mmmm oooh yea, you’re a sexy little whore aren’t you," he moaned, his face smeared with my lipstick.
"No, please, don’t do this to me," I begged. But he only got more excited as I felt the bulge in his pants throbbing against my pelvis.
Desperately I began to struggle. I turned and twisted my face away from his smeary mouth, I tried to wriggle out from under him. But instead, he grabbed me by the hair and held my head down so he could kiss me even harder.
"Blbbh mmnoo plze stop, yr hurting me!" I tried to scream through the force of his lips pressed to mine.
I then felt the sharp pain of his slap on my face. I was now crying uncontrollably, begging, pleading "Please please don’t, don’t rape me, I’m still a virgin."
He stopped for a moment and rose up a bit, with his weight still pinning down my waist. "You won’t be much longer" he replied.
He then grabbed at my breasts. I tried to hold his hands back, but another painful slap hit my cheek and I collapsed.
"Take this off," he said. I didn’t move.
"TAKE IT OFF!" he yelled as he hit me again.
Slowly, my hands shaking, I reached down to unbutton my blouse. I undid the first two buttons, but then started crying hysterically, I just couldn’t go on.
"Aaaa no please, don’t hurt me" I cried as another slap struck my cheek. I didn’t want to get hit again, but I just couldn’t move.
Frustrated, he began tearing my blouse away. The buttons flew off, hitting the floor as my blouse ripped away, exposing my bra. He then shoved my bra up toward my neck, and my breasts spilled out. No boy had ever seen or touched them.
"Owooh, that hurts, don’t please don’t," I pleaded as he squeezed them roughly and began sucking my nipples. My deep red lipstick now smeared from his mouth onto my breasts. I started thrashing about again, grabbing his hair with my now-free hands, trying to push him away.
Another sharp slap to my face sent me back, quivering, weeping frantically, begging him to stop.
"You need a lesson in cooperation," he said.
As I lay back sobbing on the bed, he stood up, removed his belt, and let his pants drop to the floor. In horror I saw the bulge in his underwear.
He then jumped back on me, grabbed me by the leg and shoulder, and rolled me onto my stomach. I had no idea what he intended.
"We’ll see if this teaches you anything."
"AIEEE! NOOOO! PLEASE PLEASE!" I cried, as his belt struck my rear.
He was sitting on my lower legs, and I couldn’t roll over, couldn’t use my arms or hands to protect myself.
"AAAAAA!" I screamed again, as the belt came down a second time. "Please please stop, I’ll do what you want, please stop hitting me."
He rolled me over on my back and I lay there, still, whimpering and crying.
He was back on top of me, thrusting my legs apart with his knees as his pelvis weighed against mine. I could feel his hard penis pressing against my virgin vagina. Again he squeezed my breasts, sucking the nipples, and moaning louder as he rubbed his penis against my crotch. I lay there unmoving, too frightened of more pain to resist any further.
Once more he stood up, leaving me to catch my breath a little after being under his weight. Terrified, I watched him pull off his underwear, and as they dropped to the floor his huge penis popped out. Fear welled up in my chest as I watched it throbbing up and down.
"Sit up," he ordered, and for once, I did it right away. I had been hurt enough. I then took a glance of myself in the mirror. My hair was a wild mess, my eyeliner badly running from my tears, and the deep red lipstick was smeared around my mouth and cheeks. The shreds of my blouse hung loosely from shoulders, and my breasts hung down below my bra, which had been pushed up toward my neck. More lipstick smears surrounded my nipples. For a few moments he just looked at me as I sat crying, shaking, softly begging "please don’t, please please just leave me, I won’t tell anyone. . . "
"Aieaaa!" I cried, as he grabbed me by the hair, pulling me forward onto the hard wood floor. I landed on my side, but keeping hold of my hair he pulled me up to my knees.
He sat on the bed and pulled me toward him, my knees sliding across the floor as he forced my face into his crotch. It was clear what he wanted. He held my head tightly the hair and forced my face against his hard penis, but I clenched my teeth together desperately trying to prevent him from entering my mouth. The tip of his penis pushed past my lips and against my teeth, but I refused to open for him. I just couldn’t, a nauseating revulsion welled up inside me at the very thought.
"Owoohehuhu, please don’t!" I wailed as yet another slap hit my face. I fell to the floor crying, sobbing, pleading, "please please don’t do this, please don’t hurt me, I won’t tell anyone, please just let me alone. . . "
Suddenly he seemed a bit quieter. "Sit up" he said. I did. "You look a real mess," he remarked as he brushed my hair back from my face. "Clean yourself up a bit."
I was really surprised at this. Wasn’t he going to do anything else to me? Had he given up because I kept resisting? I began to feel a bit of hope as he put his underwear back on. He led me to the bathroom and told me to wash up. I washed my face, cleaned the lipstick from my breasts, and put my bra back on properly. My blouse was torn but I managed to pull it over my chest so I wasn’t quite so naked. My skirt was still on — he’d never even tried to take it off. He just watched quietly as I did all this. It looked like it might be over.
He led me back to my room and told me to sit at my dressing table. "Make up your face again," he ordered.
Perplexed, I did as he said. It was such a relief to have him off of me, to think that the worst was now over, and he had never penetrated me. It seemed that he just wanted me to look normal before he left. I was glad to do it.
My face now clean, I again did the dark eyeliner and the modest shadow. I then patted on a bit of powder to whiten up my cheeks, which were a bit red from his slaps.
I then re-did my lips exactly as before. Carefully I took the liner and drew a clear outline, then pulled the cap from the same deep red lipstick, and slowly, deliberately applied it, finishing by pressing my lips together. I then said "Is that good?" as I stood up to face him.
He seemed relaxed, and I was more and more assured that he was about to leave. But suddenly I noticed that he still hadn’t put his pants back on, and the bulge in his underwear was growing large again.
I lunged for the door, but wasn’t quick enough. Again he grabbed me, threw me to the floor, and straddled me, sitting on my pelvis and pinning down my arms above my head.
"Please, not again, I thought you were done. . . " I started crying again, my faint hopes now gone.
As I lay shaking on the floor, he stood up and removed his underwear, revealing his erect penis. He grabbed me by my hair, pulled me to my knees, and as he sat on the bed he again pulled my face against his crotch. My fresh lipstick smeared his penis as he tried to force it into my mouth, but as before I kept my teeth tightly clenched.
"OWOOO NOOO!" I wailed as he slapped me. When I fell to the floor he jumped on me immediately and rolled me onto my stomach.
"AIEEIEAHUHU" I screamed as his belt struck my bottom.
"ARE YOU GOING TO START COOPERATING" he shouted?
"EEEEIA HUHUN AIEEE NOOO PLEASE" I sobbed as his belt hit again, not even giving me a chance to reply.
"WELL? YOU GONNA DO IT?"
"AHHHA HUHUH AIEEE" I cried as he kept beating me. "Yes, yes, please stop, I’ll do what you want, please stop hitting me," I whimpered in defeat, on the floor, crying and shaking.
"On your knees," he ordered as he sat on the bed. I did it.
"Put on more of that lipstick." Again I complied, and as I applied it, his penis grew even larger as I watched it throbbing.
When I finished applying my lipstick I turned to put it back on the table when another slap hit my face.
"No, please, why? I did what you wanted. . . "
"Don’t stop. Keep putting it on."
I pulled off the lipstick cap and began re-applying it. He was breathing faster and moaning as he watched it glide around my mouth. I didn’t dare stop, though my hands were shaking so much I could hardly keep hold of the lipstick.
"Lemme see your tits," he ordered. Still putting on lipstick, I reached under my torn blouse with my free, trembling hand and pulled up my bra, spilling out my breasts.
I was still applying that lipstick when he looped his belt around my neck and pulled my face to his crotch.
"Let’s see if you do it right this time" he said.
I felt his belt tighten around my throat as my lips pressed against his penis, but this time I opened my mouth. Holding down the feeling of revulsion in my gut, I allowed him to pull my head toward him, sliding his penis in and out of my mouth. I felt a sticky fluid on the tip of his penis. Is this what Kristin had seen with her boyfriend? I began to get a little hopeful. Was it nearly over?
Not quite yet. The belt still tight round my neck, again and again I slid my mouth up and down his penis, smearing it with lipstick as I felt it pulsing between my lips. "That sticky fluid is coming out, just like Kristin said. Why doesn’t he stop?" I had no idea what still lay ahead.
I felt him getting harder, moaning and breathing faster as I continued. It had to finish soon, I thought. Then, he pulled my hair hard, forcing his penis deep into my mouth. I gagged as the tip pressed the back of my throat, and my stomach heaved a bit, but I managed to avoid vomiting. I did feel a gush of saliva and mucus well up from my throat, and my mouth was suddenly full of these slippery fluids.
The suddenly he pushed me away and shoved me onto the floor, his hard penis dripping with saliva and mucus. Pouncing on me, he pulled up my skirt and tore off my panties, exposing my pelvis.
I horror I realized that he wasn’t nearly finished yet. He jumped on me, forced my legs apart, and pinned my arms above my head.
"Please stop, please don’t, please don’t rape me. . . "
My entire body went rigid as I felt his penis touching my labia, gradually spreading them apart as it began to press against my vagina.
"Oh god no please please no don’t do this god no. . ."
The moisture of my saliva on his penis made it just wet enough to begin penetration. "Owooo god no, please stop!" I cried as I felt it enter me. "It hurts! You’re hurting me!"
As the tears flowed down my face, his lips pressing hard against mine, my lipstick smearing both our faces, I wailed in pain as he began thrusting into me.
He couldn’t enter all at once. My virgin vagina was too dry and tight, it had never received anything larger than a tampon. But he kept pushing, over and over, and with each push his penis drove a little deeper into me.
"No, no, no, please stop," I cried, begged, pleaded, but each painful thrust drove his penis in a little more, until finally he was completely inside me.
He pushed hard against my pelvis after he had penetrated completely, but it still hurt just as much. He then began thrusting in and out, slowly and steadily.
"No, no please stop, stop, you’re hurting me." I cried again and again, but he kept on. On and on he kept shoving his penis in and out.
Sometimes he slowed down a bit and I thought he was done, only to start again. At other times he pulled out completely, but always forced it back in, starting the pain all over again.
I can’t remember how long it lasted. The painful thrusting, my incessant crying, his forced kisses, him sucking my nipples, that deep red lipstick smeared all over both our faces and my bruised breasts. With each thrust my entire body jerked, and gradually his thrusting pushed me across the floor until my head was banging against the wall. Each push knocked my head against the baseboard, but still he continued to rape me.
Then he began thrusting faster, moaning more loudly and breathing harder. These faster thrusts were all the more painful. . .
"Ow! Ai! Aiee! Eh! Huh! Eh!" I squeaked with each thrust. . .
Suddenly his entire body stiffened, and he began moaning louder. "Finally it’s ending" I thought, but had little idea of how it was going to end.
As he started to shake, he pulled his penis out of me, crawled forward to sit on my chest, and pushed his penis to my lips.
"Open your mouth!" he moaned. As he grasped and tightened the belt still round my neck, I opened my mouth, and he slid his quivering penis between my lips.
I could never have imagined what happened next. His penis began throbbing forcefully, and hot, sticky, salty, bitter fluid began gushing out of it, into my mouth. I gagged in revulsion, but still it went on, his whole body jerking with each throb of his penis, each spurt spewing more of that stuff between my lips. Again and again he spurted, the fluid filling my mouth, leaking out the corners, dripping down the sides of my cheeks.
At last, with a final spurt, he finished and pulled his penis out, my mouth and face smeared with lipstick and that sticky goop.
I felt the belt tighten around my neck as he said "Swallow it! Fearing that he’d kill me, I forced it down, controlling my urge to vomit it all back at him.
"Aiiee!" One last painful slap struck my face.
He wiped his penis on my blouse, put his pants back on, and just left.
That was it. "I’ve just been raped," I remember thinking, inanely.
Mom would probably blame me for all this, I thought.
So I went to the shower and washed off the lipstick and sticky fluid from my face and breasts. I put on my usual modest, un-revealing casual daily outfit. I then cleaned the floor, gathered up my torn clothes and sealed them in plastic bags. I touched-up my make-up a bit to disguise the bruises from his slaps, which, surprisingly, were not very noticeable. The greatest pains I had were on my rear from the beatings with this belt, and the raw bruises on my pelvis, breasts, and in my vagina. No one could see these.
By the time mom returned there was no sign remaining of what had happened, and I wasn’t about to tell her.