As always, my linktree is the best place to find links to all my work.
You can access my Omnibus here - Warning, it now only downloads the HTML file. Just open it in the browser of your choice and it will work exactly as it did before as everything is self-contained in one file.
Anything tagged with an * cannot be found on Reddit.
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
*Welcome to the family (Read the tags)
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
*The breaking of the Batgirl (Added chapter 2)
*The Truth (extensive update)
*How I started online (extensive update)
She knew who she was
Continued to revise, tag, and date older stories
Added the following stories...
It wasn't supposed to be like that
The breaking of the Batgirl
Amy felt naked in the throng of people as they screamed and shouted at the concert. It was her first concert, a real one, all by herself at eighteen. Her parents were religious and very conservative and had always restricted such things. She had even told her parents she was meeting her friends there, which originally hadn't been a lie. But then, Allison had been grounded and Jaime's parents had some kind of out-of-town emergency. She still wanted to go as she'd spent weeks saving up for it. And she didn't want to be denied but as she still lived under their roof, they would have demanded she not go. So she had begged her friends to not say anything, to cover for her, and they had. And now, she was here.
She'd been so excited at first, it was an outdoor concert, with no seats. She'd dressed a bit heavy for the weather, in layers so her parents wouldn't make a fuss. Once she'd been dropped off, however, she had gone to one of the portapotties. It reeked, even this early, as she slipped out of her jeans and blouse. She put them in her purse, a large one that her mom had questioned her about. She had told her a large one would be harder to lose. She slid her slim purse out of it, barely big enough to hold a few cards, along with her skirt. She tossed the clothes she'd taken off into it and zipped it up. She put on the short denim skirt and adjusted it, smiling. It looked a little trashy, as she wore just it, a halter top, and a push-up bra that left little to the imagination. She had dated a college guy who liked it and wearing it always made her feel sexy.
Changed, she left the portapotty and searched for an out-of-the-way place to hide her purse. She found a good spot between some trailers that were set up. Amy glanced around and when no one was looking, shoved it behind the tires of one, out of view. If it got stolen, there was no money, just the clothes. Sure, she'd get grounded for changing her outfit, but the concert would be over by then. She smiled, not realizing someone else had watched her as she bounded off towards the check-in. She got in and was shocked by how many people were just openly smoking; cigarettes, pot, vapes. Despite the check-in, alcohol seemed to be around everywhere too. At first, it was cool. Some guy offered her a solo cup, which she took and sipped at the bitter taste, as she tried to act like it was nothing. Then the concert's opening act began.
She had thought it was warm earlier, but as more and more people piled in, she began to feel clammy and sticky. People were constantly pushing and shoving her and she kept nursing her drink. Her anxiety was cranked up as she felt smashed in from all sides. She sweated more, felt like it was impossible to breathe, as she finished her drink and dropped it on the grass. The concert had started in earnest now but she felt both overwhelmed by the mass surrounding her and strangely numb. She stumbled, pushed forward against the railing, and gripped it tight. She was soaked in sweat, deafened by the cheers, and wanted to vomit. Her legs felt like rubber and it was all she could do to stand. She weakly muttered for people to back off, but they didn't. And then, she felt it.
As she felt weaker, numb among the masses around her, someone was rubbing her ass. Not accidental, it was a firm hand that grabbed the meat of her butt. She tried to turn her head but it was easily pushed forward. A hand pulled up her meager skirt, cupped her crotch, and made her bend over even more. To anyone around it just looked like some festival slut was about to get fingerbanged. No one cared. She looked out of it, probably rolling, they thought. She struggled to focus and keep standing as their finger probed, teased her ass, then slipped inside her pussy. There, the finger did slow circles as they explored her virginal hole. They held their hand against her chest and massaged it, then pulled up her bra so they could rub her erect nipples. She was aware of all of that yet couldn't control her movements. They held her in that position for a couple minutes as her struggle to control herself weakened. She grew wet, moaned as someone snapped a picture with their phone then went back to enjoying the concert. Then her muscle control left and when she slumped, they gripped her tighter, whoever they were. She heard a voice, a man saying someone had too much to drink. She didn't know who he was talking about, but she was pulled up, lifted, and held as she floated or was carried away.
Amy tried to call for help, but her limbs, her voice, nothing would respond. She barely felt herself being jostled by people through the crowd, the same voice laughed about some girl having too much. She'd only had one beer, she thought, the heat and it both must have done something. She didn't realize that the proffered beer had come from the same man who'd been watching her, waiting. She watched as the crowd thinned, as he took her out the side, waited, and passed the lax security. And then, they were in a parking lot. So many people headed into the concert and no one noticed them leaving it, or cared.
He stopped and she heard a door being slid open. She was laid down on her back in what was clearly a van. He climbed in and closed the door and she realized that he was the man who'd given her the beer. She screamed in her head but nothing worked other than the smallest of grunts. It took everything she had to even focus her eyes on him. He smiled and pulled out a knife. She thought at first he was going to kill her, but then heard the tearing of her clothes. He sliced through her skirt and tossed it to the side. It landed next to a large purse, her purse, that she'd hidden. She heard another rip and her panties joined the growing pile. Her top and bra came next, then her socks and shoes. He leaned over and grinned.
"I just want you to know, if you can understand me, that you're never going home. Don't cry though, I promise, I won't kill you. You'll be ours forever," he said as he stroked her cheek, then felt her up. He cupped both of her ample breasts and tweaked her nipples, as if he was sizing her up. Satisfied, he applied something that felt cold between her legs and unzipped himself. Amy couldn't see but could barely feel his cock as it slid up and down her pussy and pressed it against her labia. Then he pushed into her, softly at first, then back out and thrust in deep as he tore away her virginity. His palm pressed hard onto her chest, almost mashing her breast, the other hand gripping her slim hip. She grunted, numb to most of it, still unable to move as sweat dripped on her face in the hot van. He didn't last long. She was so tight and he was too excited. She saw him shudder and felt some warmth between her legs. Then he stood up and grabbed a camera, taking pictures of her. Her face, her discarded clothes, her slim frame, the white leaking between her legs. He spread her lips and took more pictures. After taking dozens of them, he tied her up. There was a large black rubber storage container among the tools and implements in the back of the van. He picked her up and put her in the container, folding up her limp body to fit in it. The last thing he did was use a needle to inject something into her arm as he pulled the lid over her. She heard it snap tight, alone in complete darkness, and then, nothing at all as she faded away.
Amy's first awareness after that was moving. Her eyes fluttered as fuzzy images moved around. She wrinkled her nose at the thick smell of smoke as she was tossed to the floor. She bounced a bit, confused until she realized she was on a mattress just laying on the floor. She realized she was still naked and tried to cover herself up as she glanced about. The room was dark, out of focus. Something smelled bad, like stale pee. Three glowing red rights stared at her in the darkness. The smoke smell grew stronger and she saw shapes moving in the dim light. Everywhere around her was concrete except for the mattress she was on. An occasional flash blinded her, as voices and reality slowly sharpened into focus. The red lights were on what looked like video cameras on tripods. She couldn't clearly see the shapes but knew they were people. One of the fuzzy shapes walked over to her.
"Since you liked being around so many people dressed like a whore, we figured we'd help you be one," he said. As he knelt beside her, she recognized that he was the one who'd raped her in the van. She started to scream "no" but he grabbed her and forced a tab in her mouth. She wanted to spit it out but he kept her mouth shut. She felt it dissolve and only then did he let her go. He then told her to snort something and she shook her head no. He pulled out a phone and started playing a video. In the dark, it almost blinded her, but she heard it just fine. On the screen, there was a girl about her age that was crying. The girl's face was a bloody mess. Her mouth and nose were bleeding and had bruises all over her emaciated body. Amy watched in terror as they hit her and even threw her at the wall. The man stopped playing the video and looked at her.
"We can make a couple different videos. We might even decide to. But right now, we just want to film a cunt get ruined. We don't have to break you. Now, I don't care if you've snorted anything in your life. The MDMA we gave you is gonna make you feel good. This shit will perk you up. Or we can just beat you and bury you beside that girl. The choice is yours, cunt,"
Amy cried, shaking, then snorted like she was told. It burned her nose as he told her to do the other line. Her nose started running bad, dripping, as she shook, feeling very aware and more awake now. He stood her up on the mattress as bright lights blinded her some more.
"Name. Age," a voice asked. When she failed to respond immediately, the man beside her slapped her and the voice repeated itself. "Name. Age."
"A..my," she said. She started to cover herself up but was slapped in the face again by the man who'd taken and raped her. "Amy. I... I'm 18," she said. As she said that the man beside her grabbed her wrists and lifted her hands up as someone else stepped in closer to take pictures. Amy felt like crying but couldn't. Her body was both amped and sluggish and was left feeling warm but detached from the mix of drugs she'd gotten. He spun her around and parted her ass as more flashes happened. She was turned around one more time and then he slapped her down to the mattress. She felt strange. Her cheek burned, the flashing lights hurt her eyes, but the fabric felt good. She couldn't grasp that they'd dosed her hard at every turn as her heart thundered in her chest. Her head was pulled up as the man knelt before her again.
"We're going to do things. Bad things to you," he said, putting his hand on her chest. He chuckled as he felt the hammering of her heart. One thirty? One forty? "You go with it as much as you can and we can be nice. We're not gonna make love to you. It's gonna hurt. But, and this is important. You don't have to be that girl buried in the woods out back. Just be a good cunt and we'll make you feel things you didn't know were possible. Nod if you understand."
Amy shook as she nodded, but she couldn't tell if that was how amped she felt or because of him. She did start crying, uncontrollably, for a few seconds until he slapped her. Then she nodded again as the man stood and unzipped, freeing the cock that had defiled her earlier. He nodded and she knew what he wanted. The image of the screaming bloody girl fresh in her mind, she went down on him, only the third man she'd ever done so with. She gripped his cock with a shaking hand and slid it up and down as her boyfriend had liked. Then she leaned forward and took the tip into her mouth. It tasted salty and she realized he hadn't cleaned himself since he'd raped her. That was probably the coppery taste, she thought, shocked at how calm she was. For some reason, she liked the warmth of it. She wanted to lay her head on it, as she bobbed and looked up at him. He was actually smiling at her. Then he slapped her again though not as hard as before.
While Amy was stunned, he pulled her hands off his cock. She winced as he balled her hair tightly in his hand and started ramming his dick in her mouth. She'd seen videos of it before and once her boyfriend had pushed her head down as he'd cum, but this was totally different. She tried to jerk away but he had a death grip on her hair and it felt like he was ripping it out by the roots as he all but slammed her face into his belly again and again. She wasn't sure what was worse. The first dozen or so thrusts that jabbed at the roof and back of her mouth or when he hit the back of her throat repeatedly and then went deeper. She fought, terrified then, unable to breathe, slapping at his legs. Her nose started to run more as drool danced in strings off her chin. He jerked her head off and backhanded her, then shoved her back down. This time, she retched, and when he didn't let up, puked all over his cock. He didn't stop, even as she flailed and pulled some of her own hair out as she struggled. Up and down, tasting the bile in her mouth, her throat raw and bruised, as he slammed harder and harder. After what seemed like an eternity, he pulled her off his cock and shoved her face-first into her vomit. She whimpered, a thin stream of red leaked from her nose as he jacked off and came on her hair and cheek. He purposely stepped on her as he walked off, left panting and crying in her own filth.
Amy didn't move, just breathed raggedly, as someone stepped closer. The camera flashes made her wince as they got a good view of her defilement. She just lay there until another man came to her. He grabbed her hair as well, then rubbed her face in the mess before pulling her up. He pointed to her cock, already erect and she did the same as before. She started slow, but before long, he was pounding her throat. He rammed in her throat as hard as he could. The pain was unbearable and soon she had puked on him. This man smeared it all over her face, then resumed. He constantly slapped the back of her head as if that could make his cock go any deeper in her gullet. The pain in her throat was agony, she couldn't even scream as that hurt. He came down her throat and then used his fingers to gag her until she threw up again. She couldn't stop shaking when he left her limp on the filthy mattress as the man with the camera took dozens of more close-up pictures.
The next man plopped onto the mattress with her, as far from her mess as he could be. He used her hair to pull her to him and she just whimpered hoarsely. He pulled Amy onto his lap and she felt his cock twitch against her ass. He was hairy and naked like the others. He spread her legs and started rubbing her pussy as he kissed the cleaner side of her face and neck. After what had gone on before, this felt positively blissful and she couldn't help but moan. Every touch felt electric, almost enough to ignore her raw throat, but she wasn't sure why. Her skin, his skin, it all felt unnaturally warm. She closed her eyes as he sucked on her neck. His sucking grew harder and harder and she knew he was giving her a hickey. She whimpered some more as he groped her budding chest and ground his cock against her ass. After a few minutes, he tilted her head and did the same. The skin of her neck throbbed and ached as he sucked even harder. Then he bit her, his teeth digging into her throat. The teeth dented and tore at her skin. She let out a feeble scream as he fingered her, convulsing as he played with her. His fingers danced along her sex, soaked, as her legs twitched. He stopped and let her rest for a moment, limp putty against him. Her heart hurt like she was running full out. She couldn't breathe steadily and would have trembled if not braced against the man. A bruise formed on one side of her neck and a slightly bloody ring graced the other. Someone handed him a bottle and he pulled her head back. She was forced to drink vodka, which burned her throat and neck when some spilled on it. Amy thought she was drowning in the drink, as he pushed the tip into her mouth, choking and swallowing as much as she could. She struggled, but he kept forcing her until she had drank or spilled most of it. Then he pushed her forward and she felt a new sensation. His tongue in her ass.
"Uhnnn.....please," was all she could say, barely a whisper.
At first, it was confusing. It felt good. All the touches felt good. Her skin felt wrong in the best way possible. The warmth of his tongue was overwhelming. The wet saliva running down. But it was mixed with everything else. Her throat felt ruined. Everything was hyperreal and in slow motion. It was hard to think and focus. Her body didn't feel like it was her own. When he stopped licking her ass she whimpered and then, Amy screamed. A real scream that hurt her throat even more. He had just slammed into her ass, hard. No attempt to let her get used to it, to work it in. Just one thrust that tore her as he shoved into it. His weight crushed her to the floor as they recorded her every scream and cry. The cameraman got close to her face, catching her tears of agony. The man, other than his cock, didn't hurt her. He used his weight and strength to keep her in place as he violated her ass. He almost was using her to masturbate. He dragged her back and forth on his cock as he did everything he could to make that hurt. Luckily, it didn't take long for him to cum in her guts. Then he flipped her over and had her clean him. She tasted her blood and worse. When she tasted a chunk, she puked up some of the vodka. When he was clean, he pushed her back down, face first, and pulled her ass back up. She briefly saw a bottle brought to him and then, more pain in her ass. The bottle was shoved into her as cold and burning filled her ass. She didn't know why they did that but the pain was unbearable. They held her still in that position for a few minutes, too weak to struggle as the rest of the night rapidly got fuzzy.
Everything else after that were glimpses. Men, many more men. Demons in the night made her scream even more somehow. She remembered fur, she thought, or maybe barking in the distance as some girl cried. And the flashes, the flashes never stopped.
Amy didn't know that when she next woke up it was 2 days later. Days would soon no longer hold any meaning for her. Just before and after. They left her in the basement, without light. Her only interactions were with them bringing her food and making her service multiple men orally. Otherwise, they let her recover. A TV ran a loop of her "masterpiece" as she got to see every degrading thing they did to her. Tabs and pills and drinks were given to her liberally to ensure no fight was in her. When she finally touched herself to her own abuse one day they smiled. Every weekend brought a fresh hell, but she was a compliant and good girl. They even started showing her the full video of the girl before her. They showed her that video to remind her to be good and after months, she even started touching herself to that.
And then, Amy's life changed again. The flashes were blinding her as always. She didn't care though. She felt warm as the man's skin below her felt amazing as they grinded together. His cock thrust hard into her ass as her hips worked back and forth. Like her cunt, it was almost a smooth red hole, always ready for more. She gagged herself on the cock of the other man beside her. The one who'd taken her, not that she thought about it much anymore. Her glassy eyes gave a good indication of all thinking she did. She knew to make it messy and that puking was best with him. She pinched herself and acted like the whore she was. If she was good, they gave her more drugs. She could then just curl up in warm fuzziness and nothing mattered until the next man. That's when the screaming started. She heard loud bangs and was shoved off their cocks. She touched herself as she watched everyone running about, but she didn't stop fucking herself with her fingers. You never stopped for the cameras until you were told. She dipped two fingers into her cunt as new flashes erupted along with more screaming. She was about to cum when a strange man in goggles and body armor grabbed her as two more men put magic holes in the men who had just been fucking her. She rubbed his crotch and expected him to pull out his cock when they dragged her away from the basement. That's when she freaked out. Amy started screaming, clawing and twisting, as they tried to take her away from her home. She hit and kicked them until someone bear-hugged her as another poked her with a needle and they held her until the world faded away.
And like that, half a year later, she was returned to her family. She was 19 now apparently. That's what they told her. They told her so many things. That she was safe. That things were going to be ok. Life was going to be normal for her again. She could go to college. Don't do drugs. Stop rubbing yourself in public. They didn't understand why she tried to kiss people or why she had been caught fingering herself in the grocery store. They couldn't understand how insane she felt without constant physical stimulation. They told her those things were wrong but what was wrong was the constant numbness she felt. She couldn't explain that the daily cocktail of drugs had left her empty and gray unless the most intense things were happening to her. They couldn't understand her brain had been fried from 6 months of hard use and drugs. She didn't understand these things herself. They wanted her daughter back. But she was dead like that girl that she missed watching and touching herself to. She just wasn't buried there. She was surrounded by people who loved her and yet she had never been more completely alone.
Late one night a month later she woke up. She was wet, she always was wet. Even if she didn't touch herself, her body wanted to be touched. She stumbled, walking through the house, one hand rubbing her eyes as the other rubbed her cunt. No, she was supposed to call it a vagina or a pussy now. She shrugged and put the thought away as she found her father in front of the TV. He was drinking again, he did that often now. She had trouble remembering but she didn't think he did that much before. He looked sad as he watched videos of a girl on the screen. It took her several moments to realize they were of her. From before. She bit her lip and frowned. She didn't like sad, couldn't handle it. So she coped with it how she coped with everything anymore. She slid her pajamas off and walked beside her dad as she fingered herself. She took his drink and chugged it down and smiled. She had missed that taste so much. She noticed him watching her. She didn't understand he was in shock, drunk, and confused by her actions. She took his inaction as an invitation. She leaned down and kissed him as a daughter should never kiss her father. She reached down and felt him stiffen. Quickly, missing the contact, even the taste, she pumped his cock and slid down. He started to stop her but once her mouth swallowed him, he was lost. Not as lost as she was, but lost all the same.
For Amy, it was the first time she'd felt alive since they "rescued" her. Her father tasted like those other men as she slurped and ground her cunt on her hand. She only wished she had the tabs that made everything feel so wonderful on her skin. Her tongue swirled over his cock as she gagged herself on it. She didn't know she'd given him a new kink that night. She looked at him as drool dripped down her chin and strung down to his cock. Then she climbed on her father's lap and loved him as she had never loved him before. He weakly tried to stop her but his grunts were as loud as hers. Even when her mom came into the room, she didn't stop, not until she felt his heat in her. She was used to screaming but most of it was directed at her dad. She was pulled off him and her parents fought, screaming, and he cried. They didn't understand. She went back to her room and tasted his cum and rubbed herself until she orgasmed. They stopped fighting when they heard her but she didn't know why or care. After she came, she fell asleep.
Her dad wasn't around after that and soon, neither was she. Her mom only got more restrictive until the house was an inverse of the basement. At least in the basement, she had felt something. They didn't understand her anymore. She didn't understand herself. So she left and this time, no one really looked for her. She found men though. They were always easy to find. Men that would love her and make her feel alive. They gave her things to snort and swallow and inject, and things were right again.
She didn't even realize it, but one day she found herself working at the park. The same park where her life had changed. Another concert was going on and she was picking up quickies for her pimp, her Daddy. He took care of her and always made her feel good. Blowjobs in cars or standing behind a tree as some stranger paid for her cunt or ass. She was rolling herself so the rough bark felt good as it ground against her skin as some guy twice her age filled her ass. She put the money in her little purse and walked on the edge of the crowd. She was oblivious to the streak of cum leaking out of her when a man turned her around. She smiled at him, now, blossoming and looking closer to 30 or 35, as she took a drag from her cigarette. He looked vaguely familiar to her as she told him her rates. He looked sad, handed her a 50, and then her father took her to the woods to recapture a forbidden moment with the cunt that had been his daughter.
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“So you want to know when it all started?” I asked the man on the phone. His breathing was deep and slow. I could tell he was excited, almost restless. As he muttered yes, I could hear over the line the sound of a zipper being pulled down. I should have felt disgusted. Here I was offering a confessional on how I was raped as a teen, just a few years ago, and this man or monster, or something in-between, was going to jerk off to it. I wanted to puke. I felt myself grow wet.
“It was a normal thing, at first,” I told him. “Alex was just a classmate, 18 and a senior like me, one of the bad boys. He smoked and had an old hot rod. It was run down, but still good-looking. He was gruff as fuck, but had an air of danger to him.” I heard him mutter an uh-huh and I could hear a slow pumping of a slick hand in the background. He wasn’t wasting time.
“Anyway, he wasn’t like most of the guys I had encountered. They were mostly nice guys or postured and preened. He didn’t act. Not like that. He was a blunt asshole but it was honest if aggressive. I had been hurrying down the halls one day and I had just rounded the corner and ran into him, knocking his drink and books to the floor. His eyes just flashed and he shoved me hard into the lockers and yelled at me.
“Watch out where you’re going, you stupid bitch!” he had said to me. I just barely stammered out an “I’m sorry” as he leaned in, sneering. “Yeah right, you’re fucking sorry,” right in my face, and then he’d walked off. I was left there, shaking. No man had ever shoved me or talked down to me like that. Oh, some had catcalled or talked big, but his words were seething and I could taste them. I was scared. And I was wet. Blushing I ran off to class.”
“Was that the first time you realized you might be broken inside, cunt?” the man on the line asked. The thump thump thump of him jacking off was even more clearly audible now.
“No Sir,” I said meekly. “It’s the first time I had… responded to something like that, perhaps. But broken? No. Even now, I don’t think I’m broken. I just have different… needs,” I told him.
“Whatever you need to think cunt. Go on,” he ordered me.
I bit my lip and did as told. “So, after that, I was intrigued by him. Here I was, a straight-A clean-cut student and he was anything but. I made a point to try to say hi to him the next time I saw him. To apologize, or so I told myself. I saw him a couple days later and walked up to him, heart hammering.”
“Hey, I just wanted to apologize again about bumping into you,” I managed to stammer. I didn’t get an immediate response. Instead, he just glowered at me.
“Do you really think I give a fuck, you stupid bitch?” he told me. Then he just shouldered into me and I stumbled out of his way. I was left in the hallway aghast. My stomach had dropped and I felt sick. He’d just disregarded me like I was nothing, a pest. Not worth his time. Now, I wasn’t a mousy nerd, I was quite fit and good-looking. I prided myself on my appearance almost as much as I did my schoolwork and his treatment of me infuriated, confused, and hurt me. I felt rejected, which was silly since I hadn’t been seeking his approval. But now, frustratingly enough, part of me did.
“You needed a real man’s validation, so you could feel good. Right cunt?” he said on the phone, almost cruelly. Still pumping away.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Yes, I think in some twisted way,” I told him. “Couple days passed, and I’m confused and angry and had been stewing about it. Friday comes and I see him in the parking lot. He was with a couple friends, smoking, and leaning on his car. I went up to him and again, that evil glare. I should have heeded it but I didn’t. Instead, I walked up to him and did my “dramatic” nagging. I told him I didn’t appreciate him talking to me like he had, calling me bitch, and not accepting my apology. I felt so proud for telling him off and when I was done, he still had that stare.”
My voice began to tremble now, nervous and ashamed.
“At first he did nothing, then all of a sudden he turned on me, invading my personal space so much that I felt pressed against his car. His eyes scared me.”
“Bitch, don’t you ever fucking talk to me like that, you understand?” he said as he firmly gripped my chin. His body was almost touching mine, he was so close. “Do you understand me bitch?” he yelled at me, gripping my chin even tighter. I nodded meekly, all the defiance having left me.
“Yes,” was all I said. He sniffed me, almost like an animal, touching me now.
“Are you scared of me bitch?” he said. A bit of spittle hit my face. I nodded. Then he grabbed up my skirt, pressing me against his car, covering my mouth. I sobbed as I felt his fingers probe against my panties, finding them wet. I was frozen otherwise, a deer caught in his headlights. “You’re wet bitch,” he said, pressing his fingers against the fabric. I cried and moaned both while his friends watched transfixed. Then he stepped back, pulled his fingers away, and wiped them on my cheek. I could barely breathe even with his hand removed, in complete shock.
“Never been put in your place?” he asked as he opened his passenger door. I shrugged, shaking, and he told me to get in. I hesitated and he grabbed my wrist painfully. “I said get the fuck in bitch. Don’t you fucking make me ask twice.” I got in. I think my life today would have been different if I had said no.
“You’re probably right there, cunt,” the man said, still jerking away on the phone. “But it really was never a choice, was it?” I didn’t want to answer him. I didn’t want to admit the answer to myself, even now. But we both knew the truth.
“No,” I admitted.
I rubbed my wrist as I sat in the car and one of his friends sat down behind me. He then locked the door and slammed it shut, making me jerk as his friend snickered. He then let his other friend in on his side and hopped in, quickly getting the car in gear and driving off. I looked over at him, very scared.
“Please, I really need to go,” was all I got out before being interrupted by him.
“Shut the everlasting fuck up, you stupid bitch,” he said. “No one is speaking to you so I don’t want to hear a fucking thing from you. Do you get that through your stupid head?” he screamed at me.
I cowered, eyes wide in fear. His friend behind me said something about just relaxing and then reached from behind and groped my chest through my blouse. I gasped at that and started to pull at his hands when Alex gave me that look of violence again.
“He said relax, bitch. Here, this will help. Fucking swallow them,” he said as he handed me a couple pills. The look told me everything I needed to know and I, to my shame, dry swallowed them and cried softly as his friend pawed at my chest, mashing my breasts. I simply took it, crying harder as he unbuttoned me a bit more clumsily and reached in, pulling my 36C’s out, only my plaid bra covering me. Strangely, I was calmer, though it was unlikely from whatever the pills were. I wasn't sure what made me feel slow and sluggish. That’s when Alex leaned over to “explain” things to me.
“Ok bitch, we’re all going to have fun. Well, 3 of us, anyway. You can act the prissy bitch but we both know you’re just a wet cunt that’s terrified of me. You’ll be even more fucking terrified of me after today. But you’ll know your fucking place at least. Now, take off your fucking bra,” he told me, as simply as if he had asked me to roll down the window. I didn’t, only crying more until he slapped me. That made me jerk, and when he pulled back his hand again, I flinched and told him I would. Then, under his glare and scary smile, I took off my bra, my blouse open, and my breasts hanging out. His friends cheered and one groped me while the other pinched at my nipples and the side of my breast.
That went on until we got to a trailer park and pulled up to a double-wide. Despite the guys in the back pawing at me, I was mostly numb to it. The pills were kicking in and I was feeling very detached from my body. Physically at least. Mentally, I felt ashamed. Because I was wet and Alex knew it.
I heard the man chuckle on the phone. “You already were weak and knew what you were for, didn’t you? Just a thing to them. Did you have any idea what was coming?”
I sighed on the phone, taking a deep drag of the cigarette I had just lit, exhaling deeply through my nose. “No. I knew they were going to rape me, but no. I had no idea what would ultimately happen,” I told the masturbating man. It was the truth, or mostly so. Regardless, I continued my story.
Alex drove up, parked, and they got out. Part of me wanted to bolt, but I was too out of it to do much beyond walking along with them, my chest hanging out. I got inside the trailer and it reeked of beer, cigarettes, and sweat. I had barely made it in when Alex told them to wait, taking me back to the bathroom. I stumbled alongside him, crying softly, when we walked into the small room. He quickly shoved me down and told me to suck him. I shook, looking up at him, eyes red.
“Please... I haven’t... ever,” I said and he just laughed. Then the violent eyes returned and he told me to open my mouth and if he felt teeth, he’d bust them out. I opened and then he shoved it in. I didn’t give a blowjob then. I thought I doing one at the time but it wasn’t. He just fucked my mouth, then my throat, holding my head against the wall as he thrust again and again. The first time I gagged and threw up, he let me puke in the toilet. And the second. Then, as I choked on his cock, sobbing almost hysterically, he kept me down and just let me puke all over his cock and myself. He slapped me for that and then jerked me up.
“You’re fucking pathetic, you stupid bitch,” he told me. He pulled me over to the mirror, holding the back of my neck tight as he squeezed hard. “Look at yourself bitch, look in the mirror. You’re fucking trash. You think I’m trash but the truth is, you are. You’re just a weak fucking cunt who is soaked right now.”
As he said that, he jerked down my skirt, shoved his hand in my panties, and rubbed me. Then he pulled his hand out and smeared my juices on my face again. I just whimpered, broken. I barely felt him kick my legs apart as he balled my hair in his hand. I briefly felt something cool smeared on my ass and then, only then, did I resist. I screamed. I struggled. I thrashed. None of it did any good. It took him a bit, feeling like several minutes, but he got his cock in my ass. It burned so bad and I cried, pleaded, and begged as he reamed my ass, made me watch in the mirror as I was raped. A couple times he hit my head or slapped me. After a couple minutes, I just sobbed as he sped up, thrusting faster and harder into me. Then I felt warm wetness in my ass. I shook, sobbed, as he pulled out and let me drop to the floor.
“Clean this shit up, and if I feel teeth, you’ll never have them again bitch.”
I wish I could say I fought him, but by now, I was detached both from the drugs and shock. I parted my lips and cleaned my own shit, blood, and cum off his cock. I was just numb. He slapped my face when I was done and brought me out and they took me to the bedroom next. There his friends raped me, one after the other, this time in my pussy. I didn’t fight and despite cumming three times, I didn’t participate either. I just laid there as they fucked and came in me. I wasn’t a person to them and I did feel weak. Not because I was a woman, although they certainly thought that way. No, I was weak because I just took it. Because I came.
Eventually, I was taken home, minus my panties. Alex said he was keeping them. I walked out of his car, home hours late, defeated. I scalded my skin as I washed but nothing helped. My self-worth was shit. I was shit. Soon, my grades would be shit as well.
“How long before you went home with him again?” the masturbating man asked.
“One month or so,” I admitted, crying as I rubbed my wet cunt. Good girls had pussies but all I had was a cunt.
After that, 2nd time, I started being taken to the trailer park regularly. A couple months later, I found out I was pregnant and my parents kicked me out. Alex happily took me in and I never spent another day in school. Instead, he kept me drunk, drugged, naked, and shared. I miscarried the baby after one wild night of drinking and abuse. It took a week for the bruises to heal and my eye to fully open. His friends fucked me whether I wanted them to or not. My choices didn’t matter. I lived in a gray numbness unless I was snorting, hurting, or fucking. So that’s what I did. Sometimes I took care of his debts, and soon, he was whoring me.
Then the accident came and while he was in the hospital, one of his friends came by. He raped me, fucked my ass so bad it bled for days, and gave me a concussion. I left after that, taking his car and driving until all the money I had stolen from him was gone.
I made a new life, 10 states away, only doing what I had to do at the start to get by. I got clean, I stopped whoring, and got a real job. I haven’t heard from him or anyone since, including my family. I was free to be my own person. My own gray person, empty, cold, going through the motions. Dead inside.
I heard the masturbating man grunt and could recognize the tell-tale sounds of a man orgasming. I was humping my own hand, crying as I abused myself. I wouldn’t cum now, but I would later.
“And now, here you are. Thank you cunt for the orgasm. I wish you were in the UK. I’d take good care of you. You’d never be gray again. But alas, I can’t help you in Oregon now. But with what you sent me, someone will. Are you ok with that?”
I thought about it as I took another deep drag and stubbed out the cigarette, wincing as I burned my arm with it. “Yes. Post it all. My picture. My address. My story. Post it on your site and that if they find me, they can rape me. I just need to feel something again.”
“And you accept the risk? I know you posted your limits, but I can’t promise anything,” he said, sounding almost sincere. I looked down at the marks on my thighs where I’d cut myself, feeling the scars.
“I do,” I said, smiling.
For the first time since I left Alex, I felt alive again.
If you enjoy my work, everything I write and do can be found here - https://linktr.ee/badsammie
The following week came and went, just like the first time. I sat, naked in my bed, trembling and crying, holding my phone, waiting for him. I didn’t know if I’d call the police or part my legs or both. The power he had over me was intoxicating, a vicious drug I couldn’t quit. I had cum as I believed I was being strangled to death. How can that happen and me not be damaged or wrong? There had to be something fucked up inside me, broken or ruined. So I waited, hour by hour, and finally cried myself to sleep, a dark ring around my neck, fading.
Much like last time, however, when I woke, I realized while he hadn’t raped me, he had come and visited. No mail this time, which would have been a relief. No. This time I knew he had come because in my fridge was a cup of yellow piss with a note on it. It simply read, “This is the only thing you deserve to drink”. I poured it out and sobbed because he had been inside my house. Again. I hadn’t even heard him; he’d snuck in, just to taunt me. I knew how dangerous he was. I had lost my new job because of him. I wasn’t about to show up there with a bloodied nose and swollen bruise around my neck, barely able to speak above a whisper.
So I had stayed home, the victim. And now he was violating not just me, but my very own home. It didn’t stop there, however. Indeed, it got far worse. One morning there was cum splattered on my bathroom mirror. A pile of shit on the kitchen floor. Pee in my bedroom trash can. My panties wadded up and used as toilet paper. Each day I woke or came home to a fresh violation that said this place, and by extension me, belonged to him.
Waking up led to panic attacks as I searched my home. Returning from shopping, very much the same. My chest pounded under the oppressive weight of what was coming next. I nearly collapsed when I found all my birth control pills opened and tossed in the toilet. Two days later it was my Klonopin and Zoloft that were gone. That day I couldn’t even leave the bed. I just shut down, didn’t eat, and literally pissed myself. I couldn’t function, couldn’t breathe, I literally couldn’t BE.
Thankfully that day passed but I barely functioned after that, minimal cleaning, upkeep, nothing mattered. I had given up. It couldn’t get worse. I was wrong, but I didn’t know that yet. I didn’t realize I still had more to lose. I got drunk one night and woke, soaked in piss. Some of it might have been from me, but I think it was all his. My hair reeked, my t-shirt reeked, he’d defiled me. I barely even cried.
And then, that’s when he moved in.
It was that simple, one day, I’m piss soaked and barely functioning, the next, I’m coming home with beer and frozen dinners and the house is clean. Sparkling even. It had a sharp, and probably needed, chemical smell to it, but it looked like a home and not a hovel that a broken cunt was living in. I just dropped everything as I entered, stunned, when I found him there, sipping some coffee. I cried and he came over and stroked my face, not even saying a word. He pulled me to the shower and stripped me. I honestly expected another violent bathroom rape. But there wasn’t one. Instead, he took me in the shower and washed me, my body, and my hair. Despite touching me all over, he never groped or pawed at me. Finally, clean, he pulled me out and helped me into a beautiful gown. I felt beautiful in it, and so confused.
I had no idea what was going on, but he sat me down and cooked dinner, never speaking. Neither of us did. I honestly think I was in shock. I felt clean and cared for the first time in three weeks since he’d been fucking with things in my house. I just watched him, my stomach churning at the delicious smells. I felt human again. That was my mistake.
When he finished the meal, he fixed two plates and poured wine at both settings. I couldn't begin to describe the emotions I had rushing over me, I both wanted to flinch and lean into him. My eyes were literally watering as he took my hand and stood me up and kissed me deeply on my mouth. It was never, ever, a question of whether I’d give into that kiss. I melted instantly and it was perhaps the longest, deepest, and most intimate kiss of my life. He then stepped behind me, put his hands on my shoulders, and tore my dress in half, letting it drop to the floor. I was dumbfounded, as he hurled me against the wall and I slid down it to the floor. I whimpered and sobbed as he kicked my stomach once, then dragged me over by the table again, shoving me on all fours.
Then my dinner was dropped before me. A dog dish. A dog dish full of dog food. I looked at him and asked him if I had to, begging him. He said I would always have a choice as he pulled out that black cord once again. He smiled then and I cried, cried, and leaned over and ate dog food for the first time in my life. He sat next to me, eating the delicious dinner, as I ate dog food. I should have fought, struggled, at least then maybe it would come to an end, even if a violent one. Instead, I ate like a stupid bitch. His hand would wander to my nipples or probe my holes, and I just took it. Eventually, after too much time, we both finished our meals.
“Sammie, my wonderful useless Sammie, I want you to know how much it means to me that you let me move in,” he said mockingly. “I even got us a pet, to celebrate!”
With that, he excitedly left the room. I should have run, I should have done anything. But I knew all my choices were lies. I just leaned forward, head on the floor as I had another panic attack, the pressure smashing and crushing me to the floor. I barely noticed when he returned, with a huge dog, a Mastiff I’d later learn. I just knew the dog looked bigger than me. It was well trained as it just sat when he snapped his fingers, then he pulled out of the cabinet a camera and tripod, then aimed it at the floor. I started to scream then, realizing just what he intended. I begged, pleaded, freaked out, and got dizzy. He just kicked me to the floor a few times and resumed work, until he was ready. Then I was positioned and he made a strange whistle and then, I think I had a psychotic break as I was mounted and with his guiding hand, impaled by the massive beast.
I thought I had known shame, that I had known abuse, but there was likely some torturous level of hell for people like me, that cum, repeatedly, as they are raped by a huge dog. I had never felt anything like it in my life. It wasn’t that the dog was bigger, though he was. It was the pace, the intensity that he fucked me with. It was like being fucked on fast forward, as the dog's paws clawed and scratched my back, shaking me as he rutted in me like I was a common bitch. I didn’t know then that people could have sex with animals or how it would feel. Tears exploded from my face as I was violently dog raped, as my tormentor filmed it all. I lost control during my first orgasm and I remembered nothing after, until the knot. I’ve seen the video since of that broken bitch on the screen cumming. God, I hated her so much.
But I went away as I was owned by a simple beast, a beast that was better than me, worth more than me, and when I felt the knot, I didn’t know what it was but God, it hurt. He started laughing when that brought me back to reality. My desperate attempts to pull me off of the dog's cock amused him. The dog had pulled in the opposite direction but we were still locked as he came up and raped my throat, gagging me, making me cough up dog food and swallow it again in a desperate bid to breathe. He didn’t care, and honestly, if I had been able to think, I wouldn’t have either. I was just on automatic until that cum spurted down my throat, filling my gut. I slumped to the floor, only my hips pulled up until several minutes later the knot pulled free. He took pictures and I just laid there, a dog fucker. I had cum. That much I knew and I knew that was wrong. I was a dog fucker.
He pulled my head up in my lap, stroked my hair, and kissed my cheek. Then he opened my mouth and spit in it, as he fingered my gaped and cum filled cunt, and smeared the dog cum all over my lips. He then leaned over me, whispering in my ear.
“I told you before, you always have a choice. I can post that video to 4chan, motherless, and Tumblr. No info, but popular sites. Maybe no one will ever recognize you. Maybe they’ll recognize you the next time you step out. But I’ll make sure the internet knows that you’re a bitch that’s been bred by a dog. Maybe even the cops will find out. How would you like that? Being arrested for bestiality? How would you like that?”
I sobbed as he spat in my eye, still softly stroking my cheek.
“Your other choice is on the table there. It’s much simpler. You hold up the card, you read the words, and I put it out. Not on the open internet, but on the dark web. On message boards that no decent person will ever look at. It’s not hard. You just say your name and your address, and ask them to come, whenever they want, to do whatever they want. And they will. Maybe I’ll keep things sane and under control. Maybe I’ll encourage their worst instincts. Who knows? So, Sammie the dog fucker, what do you choose?” he asked.
In the end, it was no choice at all. I sat up on the floor, naked, cold, with spit and cum and sweat on my face.
“My name is Sammie, and I live at……”