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Author Topic: How I was ruined (added two new chapters 12/16)  (Read 4854 times)
Ararria
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« on: November 29, 2016, 09:45:53 PM »

First time actually posting here - felt it might be "therapeutic" to put some words to paper so to speak. If I feel up to it, this will be kinda long. Hope you guys enjoy.

HOW I WAS RUINED by Ararria

Warning!    You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and non consensual sex. If you do not like such stories, please turn back. I don't promote rape or non-consent sex. This is only a story, fiction, if you do not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read no more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. Anyone who commits rape are despised everywhere. But fantasies are all right so long as no one is hurt.

In addition, I'd like to add a trigger warning. Some scenes in this story are extremely painful emotionally as it is told from the victims perspective.

The Beginning

I've always heard that good stories should start either at the beginning or jump straight into the action. That way, the reader instantly connects and understands what is going on. I guess that that means I could tell you my life story, or jump to some hot or depraved sex scene. But I think I'll do a little bit of both. I'll start with the day I "died". At least the day the old me died.

My name is Ally, or at least that's close enough to my real name as to make no difference. At the time of this story I was 14, growing up and thought I actually knew shit. I lived on the outskirts of the largest city in Kentucky, which isn't exactly saying much if you've ever been to a real city. We, by which I mean my mom and I, lived in a shitty but serviceable 2 bedroom trailer in a shitty trailer park not far from the Outer Loop and I-65. It wasn't much, but it was more enough to be a home. Grew up mostly normal, at least for the people around there. Never knew my dad, barely knew most of the stream of men my mom "dated" as I was growing up, but besides glances and a couple drunken gropes, no one ever hurt me.

Things took a turn, for good and bad, when mom started dating Teddy. He did kinda seem to care for her, but he was a toxic son of a bitch and dealer to boot. Suddenly, around when I hit 12, we had "money" which should of meant something, but didn't. We still lived in the same shitty trailer, it just suddenly had overpriced shit in it that belonged in a much better house. Also, mom went from being a "light" alcoholic to being often strung out or drunk alot, and it was all I could do to keep the home in order. Teddy's "friends" were over at all hours, and as I started hitting puberty, got lots more glances, comments, and gropes. Again, that was it. Sure it was crappy, but I dealt, well, not like Teddy dealt but you get the picture.

I kept myself mostly occupied at school or with my friends. I wasn't a bookworm by any means, but it keep me out of the house and I often walked to another much nicer trailer park a bit away. Had a couple friends over there, Tabitha and Justine, that I often spent time with, especially when mom was drugged out and losing her 10th job in a row by not showing up. They were both good friends to me. Tabitha was the "mature" one, dating a 16 year old and had "gone all the way" while Justine and I hadn't graduated past handies and blow jobs and barely any of those at that. But before you think we talked about sex, or had naked pillow fights - we didn't. Things were normal, we were poor, but nothing wild. We'd sneak beers occasionally or coolers, pot a couple times, but mostly we just talked, watched shit on Netflix, and laughed at our stupid parents.

It was a normal, maybe a bit below normal life, but it was ours, or mine I should say. At 14, I was coming along nicely with puberty almost done. I had smallish breasts, B cups, and at 120 lbs and 5'4, I wasn't the smallest nor the biggest girl in school (Justine had me and Tabitha beat combined there, with 36D's already but she was curvier) but I knew from the attention of Teddy's friends that I was "hot" or "fuckable". Not that I thought about it too much, especially with those guys, but I knew my way around my body and enjoyed it and while I hated the creeper's that Teddy's business brought in, I only mostly hated the attention. I never tried to flaunt it or flirt with them, but I knew it was there and that was more than enough.

Anyway, I had hit Tabitha's house since Thursday, spending a couple days there, just to avoid the current drama with mom's drinking and her fighting with Teddy. He was cutting her off again (again, in his own fucked up way he loved her I think) and she wasn't dealing well. So I crashed but I had only brought enough clothes for a couple days and while her parents were pretty cool, I was wearing out my welcome. So I decided to head back home. Summer was in full bloom and it was hot as hell outside, even when the sun finally sank, and despite being told I could stay another night (with very reluctant parent voices) I headed back home. I had my shit in my backpack, and since it was so hot, i just had a stupid little white tee on and some jean shorts on. I was being a good girl tho, my shirt just barely revealed my belly button and i had my bra and panties on. Cheap pair of Wal*mart tennis shoes completed the ensemble as I headed back for the short walk home.

Tabitha lived at the end of a dead end street and while I could cross through a couple dozen trailer park "yards" on my way back to my house, or zig zag through the trailer park roads, there was a small bit of woods that ran along the edge of the trailer parks and I-65. Not pretty woods, just run down shit with some trails the kids used to cut around or just get out of sight of their parents or pretend they were somewhere else than the shitty edge of Louisville. I pulled my backpack with my clothes and shit and headed out, and hit the trails there. The moon was out and having walked them a hundred times at all hours, I wasn't worried about anything. I was just dreading hitting home and what bullshit I would find there. I was walking, maybe a third of the way through my short little trip when I heard the creek. Mud creek is usually just that, mud, but thanks to some recent rain it was living a bit more up to the creek part and you could hear it and the drone of the cars on the interstate. There I found myself dreading heading home, when I heard a sound behind me. I started to turn, but felt a sharp pain in the back of my head and briefly thought "What?" before I blacked out and hit the ground.
« Last Edit: December 16, 2016, 03:54:38 PM by Ararria » Logged
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« Reply #1 on: November 29, 2016, 10:20:46 PM »

Sorry if the first part started slow - just felt like it needed to be said. This part is quite different from the first.

Dazed and Confused

If you've ever seen a movie, and I'm sure you have, then you'll agree that in the movies, when someone brains someone upside the head enough to knock them out, they seem to be a bit groggy, then they shake their head, and ready to get back into it. Well, I hate to tell you, real life isn't like that. Never having been knocked out before, I didn't know that, but as I slowly came too, I learned that quickly. At first I didn't even know where I was or what the fuck was going on. I was walking, in starts and stops, but the ground didn't feel right and my back kept hurting. It took me what felt like 30 seconds to realize despite my walking, I was staring at the tops of trees. Slowly, I realized that my legs weren't moving but I was. The brilliant detective that I was realized the reason why my back was burning was that I was being dragged, by someone holding my feet.

Now, in the movies, this would be where I heroically kick the villain and try to make my futile escape. Nope. I wondered instead why he didn't have me up on his shoulder if he was helping me. I still hadn't quite figured out what the fuck was going on. I did start mumbling, barely making a coherent word, trying to ask the man if he was taking me to my trailer. Suddenly, he spun and kicked me upside the head and I almost blacked out again. I did go limp and pee myself a bit, my left ear was hurting as he started dragging me faster. I was starting to sob now, still not understanding what the situation was, just confused, dizzy, and hurting.

He pulled me hard one last time, and from what little I could make out in the dark and dizziness, we were in a tiny clearing around a few trees. A couple beer bottles and trash were on the ground nearby but that was it, and I didn't recognize it as anything on the trails. Suddenly my feet hit the ground and the man was over me. I couldn't focus worth shit and all I can tell you was that he was a big man. I don't mean football big, but more like fat biker big. You know, that weird mix of strong and out of shape that some guys have. I felt his breath as he knelt over me and I started crying more as I noticed he was wearing my backpack. I don't know why that scared me but something about it did. He snorted and said something and I whimpered a feeble "What?" again, as I tried to understand what was going on.

"I said you're just like all the other cunts, aren't you?"

I whimpered at that, as my slow confused brain started to realize just what was going on. "N...no...please....just take my stuff"

At that,he laughed, as he grabbed my face in his hand and put his other meaty hand right on my left tit. My chin hurt from his squeezing it and my chest and tit felt smushed under his weight. He smiled again. "There are only a couple things worth taking from a worthless cunt like you." He then grabbed my head and lifted it up and hit it on the ground, which was at least "softish" from the rain. Still hurt and left me dazed as he stood up again over me. He then threw my backpack to the ground and pulled out a scary knife that if you asked me at the time, I would have said was a foot long. I don't know how long it actually was but it made me freeze. He smiled again when he saw that and whispered "Smart girl".

He then pointed it at me and said "Move, and I'll kill you" and I was still so dazed and unable to think straight, I did as he said. He then unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out and again, waved the knife at me. "Get on your fucking knees cunt and suck this. Try anything, and I will fucking cut a hole in your chest and fuck you to death with it". I was hysterical by now, sobbing, but I was trying to keep quiet as I didn't doubt him. I'd never seen the look he gave me before. It was cold and it scared me in a way I had never been scared before. I struggled to get to my knees, and he decided to help my by grabbing my short brown hair and jerking me up. I had only sucked 2 cocks before and neither smelled like this one, nor were they as big. He wasn't huge, but thicker than I'd ever seen in person.

Before I knew what was happening, he shoved himself in my mouth and put the flat of his knife against my cheek and said "Suck you piece of shit whore" and I started to. It tasted wrong, dirty, but I didn't have long to worry about the taste as he shoved it in deeper, gagging me hard as my eyes ran and snot flew from my nose. He quickly started ramming my throat and every time I tried to pull back, I felt that knife again, but this time by my neck. I struggled there, on my knees, as he pumped my throat for what felt like forever. I retched once and he backhanded me, then went back to it as he raped my throat. Then, without warning, I was pushed off and kicked hard in the chest and i hit the ground painfully. Coughing desperately for air, I sobbed, holding my chest, my back burning from dozens of scrapes and small cuts as he leaned over me again and asked me if I wanted him to make me pretty.

I felt that cold steel drag across my cheek and felt a sudden warmth as he lightly cut my right cheek. I didn't know that it was light at the time, I just started to scream and he covered my mouth and waved "no" with the knife. I just sobbed, limp and terrified as he did that. Then he took the knife and slid it under my shirt and he lay over me, and cut it away. I instinctively tried to cover myself but he just said "Don't" in such a calm and cold way, I just stopped. He then cut my bra off, and jerked it off me and threw it by my backpack. I just whimpered and pleaded with him and he stared that same cold stare and said, "I think it's time to improve you".
« Last Edit: December 04, 2016, 11:07:36 AM by Ararria » Logged
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« Reply #2 on: November 29, 2016, 10:58:13 PM »

My "Death"

"I think it's time to improve you"

Those are not the words you ever want to hear from a 250+ pound man on top of you with a knife in their hand. I didn't know what was going to happen and I didn't want to find out. I started to scream and I say started because the second I began, a fist slammed into my face and I went limp again. I was conscious but not much more than that. I felt blood leaking heavily out my nose and I just laid there as he started playing with my left nipple. I whimpered and whined under him, too weak to do much else as he massaged it stiff and then pinched it hard but when I started to scream again he put the knife against my face and whispered "It's quiet time cunt".

Somehow I held it in as he squeezed and pulled it hard and I felt like he was going to tear it off. After playing with it for a minute he leaned in and asked me, "Vertical or Horizontal?" I honestly had no idea what he was talking about, I was running off a concussion, adrenaline, and fear. I muttered "Vertical?" as in, "What the fuck do you mean by vertical?" but as I was barely there mentally, apparently that was enough.

The next thing I knew, he held my nipple firmly in his fingers as he took his knife and sliced it right in the middle. I just screamed wordlessly, some unhuman sound coming out of my mouth as I watched in terror as my nipple parted in two as his razor sharp knife split it to the base and started bleeding. I began to thrash and he held my mouth with his hand and held me down as he leaned in and sucked and tongued my torn sliced nipple. Lapping up the blood and parting it with his tongue while I almost went in shock. He then raised up and put his hand on my belly, and said something I'll wake up crying to for the rest of my life.

"What a beautiful smooth belly cunt. Let's ruin it"

I started fighting as hard as I could but he outweighed me by twice and just grabbed me and slammed me into the dirt again. Then once I was "calm", he jerked my head up some to watch. I saw, in silent terror, too numb and scared to do more that grunt, as he quickly sliced my stomach, not deep but god long and bloody. A second quick slash and I just blacked out, after watching two red gashes appear above  and below my belly button. It was just too much. The only thought I had was "he gutted me" and though that wasn't true, my mind didn't know that and I just shut down and everything turned black for a minute.

When I came to, my pants and panties were gone, my face felt both warm and cold from the blood and my stomach was a bloody mess. He was just finishing taking off his pants, and I moaned in fear as he approached me again. I then realized something was off and where my panties were, shoved deep in my mouth. I started to pull them out when pain shot through my arm as he kicked it hard and said keep my hands down. I cried and nodded as he knelt down and flipped my legs up and slammed against my pussy, no warning. My eyes bulged and i screamed as he pulled back and rammed again and again. He then pulled back and kicked me in the pussy and I curled up, shaking in agony. He then knelt again and spread my legs up, but this time smeared my pussy with my own blood on my stomach and slammed in again. This time, my hymen tore and he went most of the way in. He then grabbed my hips and pulled me close, ramming in deeper and deeper, holding my mouth and the panties in them shut as he just fucked the shit out of me. I thought I had been in pain before, but between my pussy being raped and the ground under me scratching the shit out of my back, I was in agony. His eyes burned into mine as he slammed deep again and again. Muttering nonstop.

"Take it you whore. Take it you piece of shit. You're like all of them. You're shit, you're shit"

I sobbed as he raped my pussy, wished that I could pass out, when he finally pulled out of me. I foolishly thought maybe he had cum, and was trying to beg him to leave me alone when he spun me over. His hand was hard on my cut cheek, shoving my head against the ground as he jerked my hips up. I felt his spit hit my ass as i squirmed. He let go of my head for a second and I hoped to run but suddenly screamed as he punched me right in my lower back. I just sobbed and drooled around my panties as he raised my ass up again and started pushing but though it hurt me, he couldn't get in. After a short bit of trying he hit my back and kidneys and kicked me away. I lay there sobbing, shaking violently as he smiled at me. He actually leaned down and kissed my cheek and told me, "I guess I need to loosen you up first".

He then walked away outside my view - not far as I could hear him but I hurt too much to attempt to do anything except cry. I felt him lifting my hips up and this time he jerked my head off the ground and told me to relax before the worst pain in my life started.  

He had grabbed a stick, about 8 inches long, rough and jagged, and started forcing it in my ass. I screamed in agony and this time, even when he hit me, I couldn't stop. He started jabbing it and i could feel something tear and suddenly my ass got looser as it plunged in deeper. I was just hysterical as he raped my ass with the stick, and when i looked back, all I could see was the blood on my legs. After a minute or two (fuck, it might have been 15 seconds), I felt another sharp pain as he jerked it out. By this point I was truly in shock. I couldn't accept what was going on. I just knew I was going to die.

He knelt behind me again and this time the pain was lower, as he shoved the stick deep in my pussy in one push. I tried to crawl away, but he jabbed it a few more times as he mounted me again, ramming into my ass on the first try as he fucked the bloody mess. I was just jerking and spasming under him as he hit my head, my back, my sides, again and again. Sometimes, he'd pause to ram the stick in and out, then he'd start again on my ass. I just was...numb. I hurt so bad. Part of me wanted him to kill me, to finish this. To end it. He was ramming me hard when he leaned over me and wrapped his arm around my neck and squeezed.

"Relax cunt. Relax. It'll soon be all over"

He said those words, again and again as he raped my busted ass, choking the air out of me and letting no more in. I honestly wanted to die at that moment but no matter how much you want to, when your body wants air, you can't choose to not breathe. So I fought, I flailed, I spasmed, I screamed around wet panties as he pounded me harder and choked me tighter. Just telling me to relax. And I did. I hit a point I couldn't fight, I just hurt, that was all I was, a ball of hurt, and even the need to breathe went away. I felt my bladder and bowels release, and I felt myself cum as I did so, as my eyes rolled back, my body cumming hurt most of all and at that moment, I quit. Oh he kept choking and fucking me harder, but I was already dead. And about a minute later, my body caught up with my mind and everything went black and I died.
« Last Edit: December 04, 2016, 11:15:20 AM by Ararria » Logged
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« Reply #3 on: November 30, 2016, 01:23:54 AM »

Wow!
This is excellent. Very realistic and intense.
You have a good command of language and you use it to delicious effect.
Please take us into your darkness again. Evil
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Ararria
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« Reply #4 on: November 30, 2016, 04:24:15 AM »

Thank you very much. Guess those community classes have been worth it then. Not that they know I'm writing stuff like this lol.

My handwriting is big lol, it seemed more so on paper than when I typed it down. Not the quickest typer.

And I'm not done. Don't worry about that.
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gscmar64
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« Reply #5 on: November 30, 2016, 11:51:16 AM »

If this is what you can do not being a quick typist then look out world when you get speed.
Loved the background story made me sympathize with you even more
Cannot wait until i have the pleasure to read more from you in the future!
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it's only rape if she understand that she has to say no,orates it clearly and sign that she said no!
Ararria
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« Reply #6 on: November 30, 2016, 02:47:09 PM »

Thank you very much gscmar64. Course it helps already having wrote everything down. I can type, but have tremors, so can have issues there. But don't worry, the story isn't done.

The next morning

Cold. Wet. Pain.

That's the only thing I understood at first, as the world and life seeped back into me. I had no idea where I was, what was going on. I didn't even know what had happened. There was no real awareness, the concussion had saw to that. That, coupled with the lack of air, had robbed me of any coherent thoughts, at least for the moment. Just pain. Just cold. Just wet.

Even the thought of movement brought agony and sobs to me. Somewhere, I vaguely heard cars driving by and the flash of headlights. I think I tried to move and something grabbed at me and I curled up more, whimpering, confused, as I remembered what had happened. As things slowly came back into focus and I hated that. I hated waking up. If I was a better person, a stronger person, someone worthwhile, this would have been when they struggled and stood and proclaimed that they would get revenge or that this wouldn't break them. If I was a better person, maybe. Instead, as realization hit me, I only had one thought.

Why wasn't I dead.

I actually hated the idea that I wasn't. I was shit, I was ruined, I had came. I deserved it. I had fucking let go.

Why the fuck wasn't I dead!

I shifted a bit and felt something grabbing at me again and i whimpered, but this time, I was focused enough to see through the moonlight and cars passing by, I was in a bush. The many small branches and leaves were what was "grabbing" me. I shuddered as another car passed by. I couldn't see much but I was much closer to the interstate than before. The creek could be heard right nearby even though I couldn't see it in the dark. Every part of my body ached. I started to sit up, to get my bearing when I screamed in pain. I spasmed, sobbing, as i reached down, and felt it.

I was apparently still naked, dragged to this bush, and dumped in it. I was away from the trails and trailers, and while close to the interstate, the bank was so deep that unless someone stopped to piss I'd likely not been noticed. Had he known? Did he mean to let me live? I sobbed, reaching down again, as i touched it. "My" stick. He'd left it in me, or shoved it in again. When I'd tried to sit up, I'd leaned on it and jabbed myself. I started to pull it out and the pain just overwhelmed me and I lay on my side, wracked with sobs.

Why hadn't he killed me? I was supposed to have died. I knew it. It wasn't fair. To go through all that and live. I should have hated him, but it myself I hated more at the moment in my pain. Trying again, I grabbed and slowly pulled it out, shaking violently in the cold wetness. Wetness? Fuck was I still bleeding? I quickly felt around, the bush and darkness making it hard, but no, I wasn't gushing blood. I felt the two long scars on my stomach. I swear he had gutted me but they were long, but not deep. They burned and felt swollen, but seemed to have mostly stopped bleeding. I thought about my nipple and decided against even touching it as i reached down and felt my pussy. It was swollen and was a mess, blood, both wet and dried, all on my lips. I cried for a minute, then slowly dragged myself, inch by inch out of the bush, finally collapsing in the muddy edge of the small creek. Sometime after he had "killed" me, it had rained for a short bit, that was the wet, or at least most of it. It was still dark outside, I could tell that as i stared up at the sky. My face ached, I could tell now my lip was busted bad, nose was swollen too. Nothing felt broken there. But any quick head movement made me want to throw up and things kept moving even when I think I wasn't. I laid there for probably ten minutes in the dark, half hoping he'd come back and pounce on me like a cat torturing a bird. Except hopefully he would end the pain.

But he didn't, he wasn't there. All there was, was just what was left of me.

I glanced slowly around as cars drove by above me, but I saw no trace of him, nor of any of my clothing. My backpack, clothes, even my socks and shoes were gone. I sobbed again and tried to sit up, my crotch and ass hurting so bad I would have believed they were literally on fire. It probably took me another ten minutes to move and crawl to a rock to help get up on my feet.

I puked hard then, and almost fell down again. Everything wouldn't stop spinning and I tried to focus on something. And there it was, in the flashes of light, as the cars passed by, was the stick. I could see the red. I could only imagine what it had did to me. A stronger person would have broke it or spit at it.

I just couldn't understand why I was alive.

Finally I started back towards my trailer, the ground should have hurt my feet, and probably did, but I was too far gone to notice. The act of walking was pain enough and I was in such a dark place, pretty much anything I did was just a cruel reminder that I was still alive. Still drawing breath. I don't know if it took me 5 minutes or 50 to get back to the trailer. I just know I started walking and at some point realized I was in what little of a back yard we have. No one had seen me, at least as far as I knew. If they had, they'd avoided the naked bloody girl. I slumped at the back door and struggled to open it. No matter what I tried, the door knob wouldn't work. I was just crying there, trying to work it (It was simply locked and in my shape, didn't even realize that A) it was locked and B) I no longer had the key), when suddenly the door opened and nearly knocked me flat.

"Where the fuck have......" Teddy stammered, seeing the nearly dead thing before him. He grabbed me and pulled me in quickly. Don't think it's because he had to help - he was a dealer and simply didn't want attention.

I vaguely heard my mom scream drunkenly and Teddy grabbed me, shaking my shoulders, asking me what happened. But I just let go again, and fell back into the black.
« Last Edit: December 04, 2016, 11:27:35 AM by Ararria » Logged
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« Reply #7 on: November 30, 2016, 03:06:05 PM »

Absolutely absorbing!. It's like we seeing everything through your eyes, feeling your pain as if it was ours!
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it's only rape if she understand that she has to say no,orates it clearly and sign that she said no!
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« Reply #8 on: November 30, 2016, 03:10:23 PM »

Thank you so much for that. I'll try to write more tonight. Glad you are enjoying.
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Ararria
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« Reply #9 on: November 30, 2016, 09:05:22 PM »

This kinda rambles on - I might have to edit it. Re-read it tomorrow and see if it feels right. Enjoy!

"Recovery"

I know, dear reader, if you're here, you've read rape stories. Don't try to deny it, you didn't accidentally fall here. I've read them too. Almost all of them, no matter how hot, have the same problem. Much like how people in movies act like getting knocked out is no big thing, rape stories, at least the violent ones, act like a body can take all kinds of torture and just instantly rebound. Seriously, read a super hot story like "Beaten Broken Josie" which is brutally amazing and tell me you bounce back from that.

Real life, sadly, isn't that simple. Especially when you have an alcoholic mom and her drug dealing boyfriend there for you. What happened those first two days, I can only tell you bits and pieces of. See, my friend Justine, she never got why in movies and TV kids would wail about how they wanted their parents to stay together. To not get divorced. Justine, however, was cut from a different cloth. Her parents, both individually decent people as parents go, were toxic together. Justine, running against tradition in every family show sense, couldn't wait for her parents to divorce. She hated seeing unhappy people on TV, and yet begging for them to stay despite it all.

Sorry, I'm rambling. Anyway, I didn't understand it at the time but now I do. It's the same way I feel any time I see some perfect family on TV. See, when I last left us, I had made it to my home, and collapsed with what I guess you would call my family. Those closest to me and there to protect me.

So, imagine my surprise, when I wake up, later that day, confused as to why I was in my bed and not in the hospital. Or maybe not, because I was in and out of it so much that first couple of days, that it really didn't hit me how fucked up that was until later. See, despite my obvious bad state, good ol' Teddy decided it was best to "not attract attention" unless things got bad. Yeah....apparently what I had been through was not enough. He was scared the cops might think he might have been involved and they might find out his profession. So instead, they cleaned me up, he called a vet that supplied him with drugs on the side to stitch me up, and would help me "recover".

Again, I barely remember any of this. I was pushing a 103 fever and could barely function. Finally around Tuesday, I started to function with some semblance, eating again, getting up unassisted and without throwing up. Of course, that also brought me back to full to the reality of what had happened to me.

I stepped into the shower, the first one I'd taken since the rape. They'd given me baths and cleaned my wounds, but it wasn't the same as letting the hot water hit my body. I quickly had learned though that no amount of heat could clean me. All I was doing was making myself dizzy. So I turned down the heat and just cleaned myself. After, as i stepped out, I stared at the mirror as it slowly defogged.

To call myself a mess was an understatement. I still had a knot on the side of my head and a small gash on the back, where he'd hit me with whatever he had. I could feel it as I ran my hands through my hair, careful not to pull any stitches there or on my body.

My nose was swollen still and my upper lip was split as well, but I had been lucky there. Nothing broke, would likely heal just fine. My neck was still a massive bruise but mostly fine there as well. My hand drifted to my cheek and the small scar there. Teddy's vet friend had told him it might heal fully. I hoped he was right.

I then looked at my back as best as i could in the mirror. It was a mass of scratches and some ugly bruises, but nothing serious. My chest on the other hand was more serious. I'd lost half of my left nipple, and the angry nub that remained looked weird. But it was nothing compared to my stomach. Two red, swollen bits of stitched gashes remained, to remind me of what had happened. Unlike my cut on my cheek, these were going to leave scars. I didn't even realize I was crying until I thought I heard a sound and realized it was me. I jerked, wiped my eyes and leaned on the sink, trying not to hyperventilate.

After a couple minutes I calmed down and reached down to my holes. I didn't realize it at that moment, but that's what I thought of them as. Holes. My pussy, though still swollen, was mostly ok. At least on the outside. I winced as I parted my lips and I could feel the damage. Where I had once felt smooth and slick, I felt bumpy and jagged. I knew he had hurt me inside, but beyond slathering me with cream and keeping me clean, nothing had been done to fix it. It was hidden, but of all the wounds I had, even more than the cuts on my stomach, reminded me I was ruined. Once again I hated the fact that I had had the audacity to live. Hated myself for breathing. I suddenly had to sit on the toilet, which hurt, but I just collapsed into sobs.

I didn't explore my ass but I knew it was just as fucked up as my pussy, if not worse. It was why I had been so sick for 2 days. It was also the source of one bad argument as I flickered in and out as the vet had said that it was serious. Instead, triple antibiotic cream, animal antibiotics, and warm baths and cleaning had been the "solution" Even two days out, I had to have a pad or tampon to keep from bleeding, especially after going to the bathroom. God that hurt more than anything.

I got up again and looked at myself in the mirror. I had survived. I was going to live. But those eyes staring back at me seemed so empty. Just like how I now felt.
« Last Edit: December 04, 2016, 11:35:57 AM by Ararria » Logged
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« Reply #10 on: November 30, 2016, 09:21:21 PM »

Oh my gosh this is amazing, you are very talented! Will there be more?
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« Reply #11 on: November 30, 2016, 09:23:21 PM »

Thank you for the praise. Yes, it's already basically written, but if I put it all down and stick to what I have, it would be quite long.
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« Reply #12 on: December 01, 2016, 05:59:12 AM »

I defy any male to read this and not be affected by what they've read.  I want to reach out and hold you while apologizing from my sex.
Your words have affected me that much!
Hopefully getting this out helps you to partially heal in your inner being
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it's only rape if she understand that she has to say no,orates it clearly and sign that she said no!
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« Reply #13 on: December 01, 2016, 08:33:44 PM »

"Time moves on"


The next couple weeks mostly just dealt with me recovering, at least physically. Using the bathroom still hurt, sometimes so much I cried. But slowly, my body began to mend. Despite that however, I pulled away from everything. My friends came by to visit as by now they had heard about my "mugging" as Mom and Teddy described it, with their bullshit anecdotes about how "incompetent" the police were in getting any leads. I barely engaged with them, or anyone else. How could they know? How could I describe it. They were literally visiting a stranger. Their friend had died and never gotten back up. Me? I was an impostor. Just a cold, empty husk that shuffled around and sometimes cried for no reason.

It didn't take me long to pick up moms habit, or take, at least as much as I could get away with, advantage of Teddy's profession. Most days I was drunk or stoned out of my mind. It was the only thing that shut off my brain fully. I existed in a state of either emptiness, self-loathing, or wasted. Empty hurt in a way I never thought could exist. I mean, empty sounds like it should be nothing, a total void. And it was, but it's also like opening the door and expecting to see your dog waiting for you when get home and then remembering he had died at the start of summer and would never be there again. That awareness of that hole - that hurt as bad as any of the scars.

Self-loathing was there as well, mostly when I didn't feel empty. When I had a nightmare, waking up screaming, and hating, fucking hating that it was just a dream and I was still alive. That I had cum. That I'd fucking refused to just quit. The hate flew easy then as well. Even as painful as those moments were - they still hurt less than when I felt nothing.

So I started stealing mom's vodka. She sometimes seemed, I don't know, content sometimes when drunk. It never made me content, but it turned off my brain if I drank enough and I couldn't hear the silence and I didn't hate the dead bitch in the mirror. It had lead to some big fights at first, even the raging alcoholic that was my mom opposed me drinking, but they soon realized they couldn't stop me. They weren't heroes, they were shitty people and their best was quite lacking.

Teddy on the other hand, did fight me harder about raiding his pot stash, but again, it turned into just him giving up and limiting it. Still, I blazed until I was furniture as much as I could. Between the two drugs, I did my best to make IKEA proud. Fuck, I didn't even need assembly.

Weeks turned into a month, and school started again. By now, my friends had basically written me off. Oh, don't think bad of them, they really did try. But they were trying to reach a girl who didn't exist anymore. My teachers mostly didn't care as I was quiet in class, and rarely too messed up to be so obvious they had to do something. A couple did try to talk to me. They had remembered the cute, if unremarkable poor girl, that didn't do so hot in class, but tried. This new girl, well she was something different. She constantly had dirty clothes or sometimes the same clothes a couple days in a row. She usually smelled, not that nasty smell you get from some of those people at Wal*Mart or on the street, but that "I haven't had a shower in a couple days" smell that sneaks up on you when you get close to a person. Only with heavy prodding could Teddy or mom get me to even do my work. Mostly I'd just grab a fifth and go into the bedroom and try to go away. Hiding shit until I at least "tried" did the job enough for them tho.

One month flew by, then another. I staggered through each day, pretty much the same as one before it. We'd settled on a routine at home. Mom tried her best to keep whatever temp job she currently had, Teddy dealt, and I did the bare minimum I had to at school and that was about it. Both of them had basically given up on me and just ignored me, which was fine as I sure as fuck ignored them. Something harder was trying to ignore Teddy's "friends" who'd stop by, or sometimes come to parties. Getting groped had always been an issue, but when you slap a guy who goosed you, or pushed a guy who hugged in the wrong way and told him to fuck off, kept it to the joke status. You know, "I was just horsing around" type of shit.

The dead bitch didn't do that though. She hid away better, to be sure, but even she had to go pee sometimes. It still wasn't much, and most ignored me when they swatted my ass and got a drunk stare as I stumbled back into my room. At least, that's how it went, until it didn't.
« Last Edit: December 04, 2016, 12:38:47 PM by Ararria » Logged
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« Reply #14 on: December 01, 2016, 08:56:12 PM »

This is the story of rape  that no Hollywood movie or show cares to show the utter contempt some victims have for themselves Congratulations on finding the courage and strength to show everyone what can occur!
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it's only rape if she understand that she has to say no,orates it clearly and sign that she said no!
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