rape – ProblemCollectionLove

Good, that’s how you should be treated. So tell everyone all about how you were raped.

Your best friend spread the news after you’d had a fight. The fight was about her borrowing your car without asking. But she decided to attack where you were most vulnerable. She’d never fully believed that the gang bang had been fully “unwanted.” Despite what you said about having been drugged. After all, she had searched out the video footage you’d said your parents had used legal action to get taken off the web. She contacted the girlfriend of the ringleader of the “rape” to get a copy. The girlfriend was glad to give it over under promise of anonymity. Your “best friend” Tina didn’t think you looked that out of it. More horny. You’d had enough coordination to suck a cock and give a handjob while being fucked from behind, after all.

Soon the video was spreading again. This time by encrypted Signal messages that couldn’t be stopped like before. “Slut machine” was written on your door in permanent marker. Your name was in stalls all over campus. Girls would grab your tits in public and moo. Guys would wolf whistle at you. You started getting invited to all the frat parties. Some were even held in your name.

It took months but eventually the excitement mostly died down. You met a nice girl. She said all that had happened to you broke her heart. After a few dates, she convinced you to go to a party with her. You hadn’t been to any since the rape.

You felt cautious but good. Really good, actually. Your girlfriend kept feeding you drinks. She led you to a bedroom and started making out. She pulled your shirt over your head and then you heard a ratchety click. Huh? Then another. You could see again as your girlfriend cut away your shirt and you realized you were handcuffed to the bed. Then she secured your legs. You were panicky but you trusted her.

That’s when some guys and girls came in with a nice light and a camera.

“Time to make another film, baby.”

After the third guy came, you were sobering up. All that was left was the shame and the sensation. It was just like before. You didn’t want this but your body did. You burned. You’d had enough of being a victim. No one even believed you.

“Release me!” They all laughed. “I want to turn over…So someone can fuck my ass properly! I haven’t had good anal since last time…” They laughed and cheered. Your “girlfriend” uncuffed you. You slapped her hard and then pulled her in for a kiss. “Does anyone have a strap-on? This bitch deserves a piece of me.”

rapemestraight:

Since my “experience” I’ve only masturbated a few times and always to “safe” things. The fluffy sweet lesbian porn that rarely makes this blog, that kind of stuff. Tonight I came to my “rape”. And it was the most horrible, beautiful thing. I feel disgusting and wrong and like I ruined my life. I hate myself. And in that, I feel so liberated.

So, backstory for those who haven’t followed the saga. A few months ago I got an anon asking me if she should fuck a guy. She also has a homophobia fetish and so I encouraged it. My idea was “Hey, I’m a chicken shit, I’ll live vicariously through her”. After a few weeks, she sends me pictures (and babe if you’re reading this I still want the others) and her story. At the end she tells me that honestly it’s worth a try. Now, I’ve had this blog for a while and it’s encouraged me that maybe my fantasies aren’t as rare or strange and she comes along and shows me by her example that it can be done.

As a lot of you know I’m paranoid as shit about this fetish being tied to me in the real world, so it took some work to follow up in my heroine’s footsteps. But I know some kinky little bitches and so I got in touch with a domme I trust. She and I set some ground rules and emergency signals and she found a male. See, a crucial piece of the fantasy for me is rape. I can’t consent to be invalidated, that kinda defeats the point. A couple weeks ago she sends me a text telling me to take a personal day and that was it. It was gonna happen. I was fucking terrified. I actually cancelled but she talked to me and calmed me down. She said she was going to be there the whole time. So I went through with it.

The cool part was this – a couple days before it happened she actually set up a thing where he bumped into me. He hits on me while I’m getting lunch, I politely decline, he notes my rainbow bracelet and makes some homophobic comment and I go about my day. I think most lesbians will tell you that this sort of thing is just daily life, call it Wednesday and just move on. But it was a beautiful touch for this.

Because a few days later, using a key I gave my friend, the guy lets himself into my place. He and my friend hid out on my balcony for I have no idea how long and when he bursts in it takes me totally by shock. I mean, even kinda knowing it was coming I freaked out. My friend helped him restrain me at first and she held me while he did a little “Remember me, slut?” bit that, honestly in retrospect he overacted like hell but in the heat of it really got my adrenaline running.

He pulled out a knife and cut my top down from neckline to waist. I didn’t have a bra or anything, so he roughly handled my tits. I remember him saying something like “no wonder you fuck women, what man would want these” before slapping my chest hard. He asked if I ever sucked cock, and that’s where I really got into resisting. I struggled against my friend. I screamed. I spit at him. That seemed to piss him off beyond the whole drama of the scene. I’m kind of proud of that.

So, I’m just saying this, I am really not wild about the taste, fellas. I was pushed onto my knees and he unzipped. I was commanded to suck, I didn’t, I was hit, I didn’t suck, and so my friend, his little helper, literally pried my mouth open and he shoved his cock in. I’m giving straight girls credit here, cause I figured this was a “just be there” kind of thing, but this guy didn’t play. He grabbed my hair and just started fucking my mouth. Honestly, I don’t know if when he said my blowjob was worse than masturbating if that was a role-playing thing or if I honestly was that bad at it, but, uh, no, straight girls, I take back some of what I’ve said about you.

He declared he was going to get use it of one of my holes and he made for my jeans. I tried to scoot away, but he got me and I fell. I admit that most of the struggle was show but it bruised my ego a little. He had my friend pin my arms down with her legs (she was in a skirt, no panties, clean-shaven. I figured this was a little gift for me getting through the blowjob in one piece) and I felt him slap his cock against me. Holy fuck.

So again, I’m paranoid, but to give you an idea, I’m tall, blonde, not super pale but no one is ever going to wonder if I’m white, I have, let’s say, modest tits. I have great legs, running is my favorite way to clear my mind. I HATE the feeling of body hair. With a passion. It feels so itchy and gross if I don’t keep everything waxed or shaved. I’m laying naked on my living room floor with a woman (who I hadn’t even expected to see) pinning down my upper body and she hasn’t said a word. Then there’s this guy, also naked, holding my legs open and pushing into me. This is a moment that’s, like, seared into me.

Let’s not kid ourselves, okay, there’s an allure to being penetrated. And, I mean, no guy is ever going to be a vibrator, but there are some things about real cock that, like, I get the appeal. I’m not about to go looking for it, but I certainly understand you if you do. I know he was saying things about my true purpose and stuff but honest, I was way too wrapped up in the moment to actually listen. He fucking pounded me. I was worried I wouldn’t get that “rape” intensity, and no, this guy delivered. And this is where the mindfuck started too, because my friend starts to rub her pussy.

He noticed me noticing, and held himself fully inside me for a moment, like pressed hard against me, and seeks to me “She loves it when she gets to help fix dykes.” And like, now we’re fucking with the reality. I have a duck in me. This isn’t a time I can critically reason. And now she starts to talk, finally.

Things like “I thought [name] was the real deal, but we got her. Just like with [random girl name]” and I letter found out that this took so long to set up because they came up with this detailed backstory just for this part. I start to panic. And, uh, if it’s right panicking during sex is actually pretty fun. Ask asphyxiation fetishists.

So at the height of this fear and them talking about their serial rape of Midwestern lesbians, I cum. And woah did I cum hard. And she laughed at me when I did. “Not a lesbian anymore.”

I want to preface this part by saying that I still am not physically or romantically attracted to men, I would never date a man, and having sex with one is nothing more than a fetish. Its like fucking a dog – a girl might do it but no one thinks she’s “caninesexual”. But being cum inside is a transcendent experience. I’m kinda indifferent to the rest of it outside the context of rape, but this is the one thing I experienced that I honestly think if I’d never felt my life would be worse for it. Most of the people reading this are straight men, and I really wish I could explain the feeling to you? Like, uh… Okay, you know that happy warmth of clothes fresh from the dryer? If I told you to imagine that being poured over your soul, that might be the right feeling? Seriously, straight and bi girls, help me out. I’m having trouble putting words to it.

So, I mean, this went on a bit. I got tied up and made to watch them thick as they mocked me, I was left with his cum oozing from me. Didn’t get to do anal, but that was my request – guys seem really into it but I wanted to focus on this petticoat part of the fantasy feeling. There was some OTHER KINKS that came up that I might talk about separately. And my friend did the best aftercare, which was super important. He was apparently uncomfortable not being a part of the aftercare because he was kinda a monster in the scene, but that was also by my request. She stayed the whole night. I cried a lot, she washed me in the bath, made dinner, promised me I was still the same person I was before. I’m still [name], I’m still gay, I’m still valid. She made sure that I tested myself a few despite being on protection, she’s been checking on me.

I don’t actually know if I’m the same person I was before? Like, I know my feelings on everything are the same. I guess I just don’t know if I deserve to be me still. I mean, in a way I guess that’s been the core thing I explore here, but I wonder if I’ve crossed a line and I can never be normal again?

Anyway, I’ve been sitting naked on my couch for two and a half hours writing this on my fucking phone after masturbating and I have to leave for work in, what, an hour and a half or so? But I promised you a story. Here it is.