Ch. 3
(rape, nc, mc, violent, scat)
I tried to avoid Beth for a while. It wasn’t fair to her getting raped twice a day when she only deserved it once. Thanks to the detectors, I was able to accumulate and save plenty of raw data. It also alerted me quite readily when she was being raped now that I knew how to detect the start of the event. For what it was worth, knowing she was being raped when it happened also allowed me to try to examine my own thoughts and feelings. Why was it so easy for me to ignore her cries? I could tell consciously that she was in distress, and normally I would have called 911 or dealt with it myself. What made this artificial feeling of uncaring different from actual uncaring? Unfortunately, I know physics better than I know psychology or self reflection.
I kept a log of Beth’s rapes. Usually the violent ones happened every week or two, though there was a bit of a statistical spread to that data. Most of her rapes were mundane, lasting less than a half hour. It occurred to me that her longer sessions involved multiple penetrations, like when I did her. I could, it seemed, wait for her rapist’s first cum, and then go knocking loudly and scare the guy away. It would fulfill the terms of her curse, and give Beth a break. But I didn’t try it. I didn’t know why. Oh, I knew that it was an effect of the signals. I was being blocked from acting on my urge to interfere. But as I thought about it without considering the technology, it just felt like too much of a hassle. I never brought up the idea to Beth. I just ignored it. So she was periodically raped long, hard, and loudly.
I built some more devices and put them elsewhere in the building. The two in my apartment were at opposite corners. I also snuck one into Beth’s kitchen. I waited for her rape to begin, and then I went in through her unlocked front door while I knew she would be busy in the bedroom. Another one went on the roof of the building. I was trying to see if I could triangulate the signal’s location. I was turning into quite the electrical engineer by then. As I examined the signals, something seemed wrong. After a while it hit me. The intensities were way off. Some were much stronger than others. Some were practically zero. I finally realized I was seeing an interference pattern. There was more than one source of the signals!
And at least one of the sources was very close by. I could tell by the rapid decrease in contrast. I quickly grabbed the smallest detector I had built so I could track it down by the old fashioned hotter – colder method. Plus this one was battery operated. I quickly found that the signal was stronger on the side of my apartment by the door. I seemed obvious that it was coming from the direction of Beth’s apartment. That made sense. I crossed the hall and walked into her apartment. The contrasting interference pattern was annoying, but I figured it was strongest from her bedroom. I walked in to find Beth lying curled up and naked on her bed. The man who raped her was just getting dressed. I hadn’t even realized he was there, but that did explain the noises I’d heard and ignored.
“Oh fuck!” he said on seeing me. Beth looked up.
“Are you carrying anything electronic?” I asked him. I didn’t know if the rapists might be the source of a signal, and this guy looked like he was ready to bolt out of there. I approached him holding the detector pointed at him.
“Get away from me, man!” he shouted. I wasn’t worried. I was bigger than he was and didn’t have my pants down around my ankles. He tried to dart around me, but I figured the least he could do was take ten seconds to help me out. I tripped him and then held him down with my foot while I held the detector close. But it wasn’t him.
“Alright, get out of here,” I said. He scurried away. Beth was just sitting up, staring slack jawed at me. I held the detector close to her and found that she was emitting some kind of signal very similar to the main one. “Do you know you’re emitting signals?” I asked her.
“Do you know I was just raped?” she asked, sounding exasperated.
“There are signals coming from somewhere outside the building, but there’s also one coming from you,” I told her. I knew she’d just been raped. Jeez, I just kicked her rapist out of the room. It occurred to me that I might be less nonchalant about it, but whatever.
“What does that mean?” she asked. “Can you stop it?”
“I don’t know yet. You might have a device implanted in your body. Removing it would help. Can you have your doctor do a full body X-ray, see if there’s something in there?”
“I don’t have a doctor. My job doesn’t have health insurance.”
“Hmm. I can try to jam it,” I said. “Give me some time to work on it.” I headed out. I knew that staying increased my chances of raping the poor girl, and I didn’t really want to hurt her more. Certainly not until she showered and got the last guy’s cum out of her.
I didn’t really know how to jam anything, but some information exists. The easiest way was to just emit something stronger at the same frequency. I set up a system, and brought it over to Beth’s apartment the next afternoon. For once she wasn’t naked. She was just watching TV in some sweats. She looked up in alarm when I walked in, but then relaxed.
“I haven’t been done yet today,” she said. “If you want to try, just do it.”
“I’m going to try to block the signal by overpowering it with static and junk,” I said.
“Okay. Have at it,” she said. I set up the jammer, and some scanners so I could see what the effect was. When I was ready, I turned it on. Beth was watching over my shoulder, but she didn’t understand any of the readings. For a minute or so, nothing really happened. Then I saw the power increase from the outside signal. It shot way up until it was over ten thousand times as powerful as before. It swamped my jamming signal. And then I decided Beth would have to pay severely for the time I’d spent trying to help her. Looking back, I can tell I was feeling an emotion that simply wasn’t mine. It was that blatant. But at the time I wanted compensation.
Beth saw the change in my face, and she backed away. I got up and lunged at her in a lustful rage. She screamed as I grabbed her and slammed her hard up against the wall. “Get out of those fucking clothes, whore!” I shouted at her, landing several punches to her gut that knocked her down. I began kicking the little slut. “Strip! Do it!” She had to pull her clothes off even while I was pummeling her with my feet. She was crying and screaming by then, for all the good it would do. It was just a reaction. We both knew no one would pay any attention.
I grabbed her hair and yanked her off her ass and into her bedroom. I’d start there, but I had plans for Beth. My cock needed to shoot off right then. I freed it and then plunged it into Beth’s perpetually sore cunt. Rape she knew, and she took it without much fuss, just whimpering under me. It made me madder. Maybe she wouldn’t be so casual if I choked her unconscious a few times. It was worth a shot. So I grabbed her neck with both hands and squeezed, all the while plowing her little pussy. Now she started to panic as her face turned blue. She clutched at my arms, but to no avail. Her eyes rolled back and she passed out. Then I let go, and managed to time her facial so my cum hit her eyes just as she opened them again.
“Let’s go, cunt!” I snarled at her. “Let’s get your face washed up!” I grabbed her around her neck and pulled her into the bathroom where I started running cold water into the tub. Then I turned to her makeup stuff. “Like painting your face like a whore?” I asked her.
“Please, Ned!” she cried. Like she could absolve herself of being a filthy tramp by begging. I grabbed some lipstick first and began smearing it around her lips, quite broadly, worse than even the lowest streetwalker would do. I smeared some mascara around her eyes. I didn’t even know what most of the stuff was for, but I rubbed it all over her face. Why? Just to kill time really, while the tub filled. And because Beth was a slut who needed to be beaten up like one. I also smeared some of the various creams around her crotch, using lipstick to paint her cunt lips bright red. One tube I just stuffed painfully into her anus and left it there. If I ass raped her later, which I would, I just had to get it out. Or push it up further. That sounded good, actually, so I bent her over and used the handle of the toilet brush to jam the tube of mascara deep into her anus, about a foot up inside her. Then I jammed the same handle into her mouth.
“Suck it off, whore!” I shouted at her. Crying hard now, she licked the toilet brush handle clean of her shit. By then the tub was somewhat filled. I grabbed her around her neck again and plunged her head under the water. She screamed. Bad move. Now she couldn’t breathe until I pulled her up a minute later. She gasped and wheezed, trying to get air into her lungs. I gave her a little time, then plunged her under again. Since she was already bent over, it seemed as good a time as any to fuck her ass hard. That was another benefit of the signals. They not only gave me the clarity to rape a cunt like Beth. They also gave me the stamina. It was win-win. While I drowned Beth a bit more, I pressed my cock to her ass and forced it in hard. Now she could deal with a cock in her ass and water in her lungs.
The second time lasted longer. I let Beth up for air every minute or so, but I kept drowning her and plowing her until I came in her, and that took a good twenty or thirty minutes. I was almost getting bored, but her screams were just too much fun to ignore. When I finally came in her, I dragged her out to the living room. She couldn’t even get to her feet to flee as I dumped her on the floor and went to her bedroom to get the bondage toys she’d collected for her rapists. It was not hard to cuff her hands behind her back. I wasn’t sure what to do next, but her annoying little sobs just made me madder. So the answer was obvious. Beat her up some more. Which I then did, hitting her over and over and over without mercy. Then she was less sexy, and that just pissed me off more. The cunt had no appreciation at all.
“You rotten little whore!” I shouted in her face. “Gonna take that attitude? Gonna look at me like that?” I grabbed her and lifted her up. She was still handcuffed. I don’t think she knew what I was going to do next until it was too late to stop me. I lifted her up with my hand around her chest and my right hand on her crotch, took a running start, and then hurled the whore Beth through the curtains and then through her living room window, shattering the glass, and sending her falling from the second floor down to the pavement below.
She must have landed in a non lethal position. I looked down and saw her struggling to get up. I ran out, down the stairs, and caught up with her just as she got to her feet. “Gonna try to run away, Bethy?” I taunted her. She was trying. She was limping too hard to go very fast. I kept up just walking fast, but it was fun to watch her try. She was screaming for help, but though there were a few people in the parking lot, none of them paid any attention. She ‘ran’ out of the parking lot to the street. There was traffic. She looked at me, then at the cars. She closed her eyes and then jumped into the street.
There was a screech of tires on pavement, and sounds of cars hitting cars. But Beth just lay in the road, unharmed (at least by traffic). Several men and one woman rushed out of their smashed vehicles. I thought this might get ugly, but they all seemed focused on Beth.
“That bitch tried to kill us!” the woman screamed. Her companion grabbed Beth and picked her up as the men in the other car walked over. They slammed her down on the hood of one of the vehicles.
Now I’m more interested in my own pleasures than in those of others. I haven’t described, in this telling, the details of Beth’s other rapes, and I won’t go into great detail on this one. Suffice to relate the highlights. The three men took turns gang raping Beth on the car while traffic went around them. The woman had her cunt pressed to Beth’s mouth the whole time. When the police showed up they just stared at the scene in front of them in confusion. No doubt the signals hitting their brains were conflicting with years of professional training that said to stop rapes encountered in progress. Finally, in almost a daze, the two of them got Beth to give her name, even while she was going through the rape, and then wrote her a citation for jaywalking. One of the few bystanders that had gathered gave the cops a safety pin. They pinned to the citation to Beth’s right buttock and drove away.
In time, a few bystanders joined in raping Beth. Not many, as it turned out. Through it all, most pedestrians and drivers just went around the altercation. After a long while, as the tension seemed to ease, I pulled Beth back to the sidewalk. I still had some of her rope in my pocket, and it seemed like a good time to use it. I hurled one end up and over a street light. Then I tied Beth’s feet together and hoisted her up until she was dangling over the road about twenty feet up. I tied off the rope and went back inside, leaving Beth, now grown quiet and subdued, hanging there. A few motorists honked. Most paid her no attention. Somehow, the jaywalking citation was still safety-pinned to her buttock. I went inside and brought the equipment back to my apartment. I didn’t even turn off the jamming device.
I turned it off in the morning. I went outside. Beth was still there, but it looked like some people had just then stopped to help her down. I watched as they put the girl in an ambulance and drove her away. Would anyone believe her? I was feeling myself again by then, which is to say pretty fucking shitty. My first attempt to help had been less than successful. I would have to try harder and be more careful. Beth returned later that day. I heard her go inside, but I was feeling too guilty to go say anything. I didn’t even let myself get annoyed at the screaming I heard that night and the next.
The day after that, though, I went out and opened the door to her apartment to talk about it. I was in for a shock. I opened the door, and found only empty rooms. Beth had cleared out of there. I’d even seen the moving van outside, but didn’t realize it was her stuff being moved. Now she was gone. I doubted very much she left a forwarding address with the rental office. I was right. So now what? I sat down and gave it some long thoughts. Would I go after her, maybe saving her or maybe making it worse? Or would I just let her go?
This may or may not be the end. Any wishes?