Warning: This story contains sexually explicit material of a
violent nature. It is intended for adults only. If you are
underage or are offended by such material, please leave.  Please
do not post this material to other sites.

Copyright 2005 by the author, Kelly Berks.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Debbie had found the perfect apartment. It was within walking
distance of her job and was quite affordable. Most importantly,
it seemed like a safe place for a single woman to live. Debbie
would discover that some of the other tenants in the building
were bad news, but that would be the least of her problems.


Rape Chronicles - File #6 - The Rape of Debbie Cook
By Kelly Berks


Debbie Cook wasn't bad to look at. She was always very stylish.
She dressed well, carried herself gracefully,  had a pretty face
and beautiful long red hair. Okay, you look at her and think that
she's one you'd really like to fuck. Well, I did fuck Debbie and
I can tell you that it's not as great as you might imagine, at
least that is, if you're basing your expectations on looks alone.
First, she's one of those women who disappoints a bit  just by
undressing. Her tits are floppy, her tummy is a bit rotund, and
her only saving grace, in a visual sense, are her big hips and
ass, if you like big hips and ass, that is. You hope that she's
going to have a nice tight, juicy cunt, but she disappoints
again. It's not a quality box at all, and she just doesn't know
how to use it. I do like her a lot, but I like her better when
I'm not fucking her.

A few years ago Debbie rented an apartment downtown so she could
be closer to work. It was on the groung floor of an old three
story apartment building. Her's was in the front of the building,
and a hallway went past her door to the apartment at the back.
There was a stairway on the other side of the hall, which lead to
the upstairs apartments. It was a nice old place with high
ceilings, big windows and a classic, if somewhat faded, elegance.

The other residents of that building, at least those who Debbie
came in contact with on a regular basis, were strange and
annoying, to say the least. At the back end of the hall on her
floor, was a woman who was obviously a prostitute, and someone
who was dealing drugs to nasty looking characters who were
invited through the front security doors to transact business in
the hall, or in the woman's apartment. Debbie had quite a few
run-ins with this woman about her behavior, and there was a lot
of friction between them. Up at the top of the stairs, the
apartment was occupied by two gay men, Lenny and James, who
decided they didn't like Debbie the very first time they laid
eyes on her. There's really no explaining situations like that -
it just happens, and there's nothing to be done about it. At any
rate, the friction between Debbie and these other building
tenants was almost constant, and very rarely did a face-to-face
meeting not wind up with the exchange of harsh words, at the very
least.

It was late, maybe 1:30 AM, on a hot and humid Friday. Debbie had
stopped by the local pub, met some friends, and had a few drinks.
She packed it in when the place started to empty out and headed
home. There was no sign of activity as she reached the front door
of her apartment building. The only light  was the big one in the
hall. She opened the main door and walked toward her apartment
door. As she put the key in to unlock the door, she noticed that
it was not locked and pushed right open. She thought that was
odd, because she always tried to remember to lock it on her way
out. The thought slipped away from her as she entered the dark
apartment. Immediately something was wrong. She was stunned by
the feeling of a hand wrapping around her face and mouth from
behind. Her head was pulled back, and she heard a low voice
whisper, "Scream and you're one dead whore." She wasn't scared,
in fact, she was too stunned to be scared. What was this? Was
this one of her friends playing some sort of bad joke on her? The
reality of the situation came to her in a second. Someone had
broken her lock and had waited in her apartment for her to come
home, and she was in a whole shitload of trouble. "You do like I
say or I'll cut you till you ain't got nothin left to cut," the
voice whispered again. She felt the sharp edge of a knife pressed
against her right temple and she froze.

"Now, I'm gonna back away from you and you gonna do what I tell
you to do. You hear me, bitch?"

"Yeah, I hear you. Don't kill me. Just tell me what you want me
to do. I'll tell you where all my money is, so you don't have to
look for it," Debbie replied in a trembling whisper.

"I don't want your fuckin' money. You just do what I tell you and
you won't get dead. I know you ain't got no gun here, 'cause I
had a real good look around, so you just keep your fuckin' mouth
shut and do what I tell you."

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

"Now, you start taking off your clothes. Keep your back to me and
take off your clothes."

Debbie didn't hesitate. She was wearing a dress which slipped off
her and dropped onto the floor as soon as she had undone the top
few buttons. There was complete silence, except for a clicking
noise and a corresponding bright flash. This guy was taking pictures!

"Now bitch, you turn around."

Debbie complied. She was now looking directly at the intruder. He
was black, had no mask or other disguise, and was holding one of
those cheap disposable cameras, which he was raising to his eye
for another shot. The camera clicked, the flash went off in
Debbie's face, and he lowered the camera and looked directly at
Debbie. She immediately noticed that there was a whole pile of
the disposable cameras on the table, and there was also a coiled
up yellow rope which looked like a clothesline. She thought that
he had probably stolen those things on his way to her apartment.
She also had another thought, which was more than a little
frightening. This guy was making no attempt to disguise himself.
Was this because he was planning to leave no witnesses of
whatever he might be doing?

"You got a stupid fuckin' bra on. Take that fuckin' thing off.,
bitch," the man growled.

Once again, Debbie did as she was told. Her floppy tits fell out,
and the man barked out. "Man, you got floppy tits like a cow."

"Yes sir, I do," Debbie heard herself  reply. Had she really said
that, she thought?

The camera flashed again . "Yeah bitch, I like that - you call me
sir every time you talk to me, or you're dead. You understand?
Now take of your bottoms."

Once again, Debbie complied. Now she was standing in front of the
man completely naked except for her shoes. The camera clicked.

"You like to suck cocks, bitch?"

"Yes sir, that is, sometimes I like to suck them."

"You suck cocks good?"

"No sir, I'm not very good at all," Debbie replied in a shaky
voice.

"You wanna suck my cock, bitch?"

"Well, I don't know sir. I'm not very good, and you probably
wouldn't like it, so I probably shouldn't."

The intruder laughed and snapped another picture.

"Now, you bounce your tits some, like this," the man said as he
mimicked a woman bouncing her tits with cupped hands.

Debbie did exactly as the man had done, and he snapped a couple
more pictures.

"Now take your shoes off; we gonna teach you sompthin 'bout
who's the deal here and who ain't."

The man picked up a section of the yellow rope and walked around
behind Debbie's back. Grabbing her wrists, he began to wrap the
rope around them. Debbie realized that this might be the last
chance to fight her way out of this situation, but couldn't bring
herself to do it. She now had her hands firmly tied behind her
back and was helpless. The man then proceeded to cover her eyes
with some sort of cloth, which he knotted on the back of her
head. Now she couldn't see and couldn't use her hands. She
realized that she was entirely at his mercy, or lack thereof. She
stood there for what seemed like an eternity. What was he doing?
She could hear him messing with another rope, but didn't even try
to think about what he might be doing with it. She jumped as she
felt a loop of the clothesline being placed over her head and
down around her neck. Now she knew what the man had been doing;
he had been tying a noose. He yanked the loop tight around her
neck and pulled her  across the room by the neck. She knew they
were situated in the large opening between her one big
"everything" room and her kitchen. She knew there was a stout rod
stretching across the top of that opening, which had been
intended for holding a curtain for dividing the rooms, and she
knew what it would be used for now. She heard the man dragging a
chair next to her and knew he was using it to reach high enough
to loop the rope around the rod. Suddenly, she felt the rope
tighten and begin to stretch her up towards the ceiling. She was
compelled to stand almost completely on her toes to keep from
strangling. He continued to pull on the rope and then  must have
been tying it off, because after that, it had no give at all, and
she had to balance up on her toes to keep from hanging.

Click, click - she could hear the camera. Then there was silence.
What was he going to do? Would her next feeling be that of his
knife being plunged into her belly? She knew she couldn't balance
like she was for very long, and that he had to cut her down soon,
or she would hang. She heard him walk closer to her and felt him
wrapping a length of rope around her chest, first above her tits,
then below. Then he wrapped a loop around each tit and pulled it
very tight - so tight as to cut the circulation off and make them
pop out straight from her body."

"You ain't so floppy now, bitch." She heard him say. Then she
heard the click, click, click of the camera again.

She twitched as she felt his fingers touching her between her
legs, first along the inside of her thigh, then up to her pussy.
She tried to bow her right leg open to make it easier for him to
get his fingers into her cunt. She was in no position to do
anything but cooperate. He gave her pussy a good going over for
about five minutes, and she did her best to keep herself  in a
position where he could do anything he was trying to do, because
any resistance or movement would cause her to lose her balance
and tighten the noose further. At one point, he kicked her
lightly on the ankle, causing her to have to reposition herself
quickly to avoid falling and being hanged.

"Hey bitch, you know your face is turning all red?" the man
finally broke his silence.

Debbie knew it. She was seeing stars and felt her eyes beginning
to roll back. She had the sensation that, if she weren't
blindfolded, she would be looking up at the ceiling. Her head was
cocked sharply to the right, as the noose was tightening with her
slightest movement.

"Hey bitch, you know your tongue is hangin' out? Man I gotta get
a picture of this".

Again, Debbie heard the click, click of the camera. Then she felt
the intruder's fingers playing with her asshole. If he spent as
much time with that as he had with her pussy, she was thinking,
she'd be dead by the time he was finished.

He forced his finger up her asshole and worked it around inside
her.

"You're my own personal whore now; you understand?"

Debbie tried to agree, but could only grunt. She was losing it
fast.

"You gonna suck my dick whenever I want, right?"

Again, Debbie tried to agree, but couldn't muster much of a
sound.

"You gonna do whatever it is I want you to do, cause you are my
slut; you understand?"

Debbie knew she was close to losing consciousness. She could
sense the man was walking away from her. She just stood there and
tried to balance herself and keep from passing out.

Five minutes past, and she could feel her ankles shaking and
beginning to give way. She could keep herself standing no longer.
She had to give up and let go. At that instant, she felt herself
falling to the floor. The guy had cut the rope at the last
possible second.

"Now, you didn't think I was going to let you die before you got
a chance to be my ho, did you?"

Debbie lay on the floor, now semi conscious, still with the noose
tight around her neck. Her only sense of what might be happening
was that sound again - click, click, click.

After a few minutes, Debbie felt the man cutting the ropes which
bound her hands behind her back. He pulled her up to her feet and
walked her a few feet to a stuffed chair in the corner.

"Now I want you to pose for some more pictures. Here, you lean
over on this here chair, and bend over on it, and you pull your
cheek open so I can get a good picture of your asshole."

Debbie did as she was told. It occurred to her that when you
reach the point of holding your asshole open so a stranger can
take pictures of it, you've pretty much surrendered whatever
pride you might have, and it's all about survival from there on.

"You got a cute asshole, bitch. You know that?"

Debbie tried to say something, but the noose, while loosening,
was still too tight around her neck.

"Okay bitch, my name is Howard. From now on, you gonna call me
Mr. Howard or sir; you understand that?"

"Yes sir, Mr Howard," Debbie replied in the faintest whisper.

"Now we gonna take you over on this here nice big bed and fix you
good."

Howard dragged Debbie over to the bed and threw her down on it.
He pulled her blindfold off, and she looked down to see how her
tits were protruding because of the rope which was wound so tight
around them, and how they had turned a deep shade of purple from
the lack of circulation. Howard removed the rope from around
Debbie's tits, and they returned to their floppy normal position.

"Hey bitch, you look just like a floppy cow again," Howard said
as he took a couple more pictures. "Did you know you look like a
stupid floppy cow?" he added.

"Yes sir, I knew that," Debbie replied.

"You knew what, bitch? You tell me what you knew."

"I know I look like a stupid floppy cow, sir," Debbie responded.

Howard then retrieved several more pieces of rope and began tying
her, spread-eagled, to the posts of the big bed. He tied her
ankles to the outside of the posts at the bottom. Debbie had a
huge antique bed, and I can tell you that, while I am nearly a
foot taller than she is, I cannot reasonably get my ankles around
the posts at the bottom of that bed, so you know that she had to
be spread open wider than would seem humanly possible. Howard
left the noose around Debbie's neck, but without the tension of
her weight pulling it, it was continually loosening, and she was
better able to breathe.

"Now, you start tellin' me all about yourself," Howard said.

"Oh, I don't know what to say, really, I work downtown at ...."

Howard interrupted sternly, "That's not what I mean, you stupid
fuckin' whore. I want to know all about what a pig you are and
how much you need me to fuck you."

"Well sir, Mr Howard," Debbie replied meekly, "I know I'm a pig
and a cheap, dirty whore, and I need you to fuck me real bad."

"Yeah, I bet you need it bad. Do you wand to suck my dick too?"

"Yes sir, I really want to suck your dick too."

"How come you want to suck my dick?"

"Oh, because I'm the biggest slut around, and I need to suck your
dick really bad, Mr. Howard," Debbie replied, but not in a
convincing tone.

"You stupid fuckin' bitch", the Howard yelled as he straddled
Debbie's waist on his knees. He slapped her face with his right
hand, hitting her hard enough to turn her head sharply to her
right. Then he hit her again with a backhand slap, and continued
slapping her that way a dozen times or so. When he stopped, she
could feel the blood running from her nose, and she turned her
head to keep it from flowing back down her throat and choking
her. Howard then slapped her tits very hard several times, and
proceeded to inflict at least twenty minutes of vicious abuse on
them, squeezing, twisting, pulling and slapping, while he
lectured her on how he expected her to behave towards him in the
future.  She got the message.

Howard reached for another disposable camera and began snapping
pictures of Debbie's tits and bloody face. "Now, you tell me what
you are, bitch," Howard demanded.

"Sir, I'm a stupid whore, and I'm a slut and a pig,"  Debbie
replied obediently.

"And what do you need from me?"

"I need you to fuck me like a pig, sir."

"And, do you need me to shove my cock down your throat?"

"Yes sir, I really do."

Howard now seemed pleased with Debbie's tone and behavior. "Do
you want me to do it right now?"

"Yes, I need it down my throat right now, Mr Howard."

With that, Howard positioned himself at the top of the bed, and
turned himself around. "Now, put your fuckin' head back and open
your mouth".

Debbie complied immediately, and Howard pushed his cock into her
mouth and down her throat. She was choking and gagging as she
felt Howard's cock sliding deep into her throat. That went on for
what seemed like an eternity, with Debbie gagging and trying to
find a way to catch her breath as Howard's cock completely filled
her throat.

"Okay bitch, now you gonna do something special for me".

Howard pulled out of Debbie's throat an positioned his asshole
over her mouth, opening his ass cheeks, as he brought his asshole
onto her mouth. Debbie felt the sharp tip if Howard's knife blade
pushed against her right tit. "Now, I'm gonna cut you real bad,
if you don't get your fuckin' tongue workin' on my asshole,"
Howard threatened.

Debbie believed his threat. She started frantically licking his
asshole with her tongue.

"Now, stick it right up my asshole,"  Howard ordered, as he
brought more of his weight down on her face.

Debbie could not breathe at all. She was being suffocated. All
she could do was try with everything she had to stick her tongue
up Howard's  asshole. He pressed down harder, and she tried
harder to penetrate his hole with her tongue, but it just
wouldn't make it. Feeling herself passing out, she began to make
noise, but Howard did not get off  her. She was losing
consciousness, just as she had been doing while she was being
hanged earlier, when Howard finally raised himself off of her.
She started gasping for air as he began laughing at her
struggles.

Howard turned himself around and began kissing and licking
Debbie's belly. He slowly worked his way down to her pussy and
started on that. Debbie could hear a lot of slurping noise and
feel his tongue working its way around her lips and hole.

"You ready to get fucked now, bitch?" Howard asked in a very calm
tone.

"Yes sir, I am," Debbie replied, hoping that this might mean this
whole thing was close to an end.

Howard positioned himself and shoved his cock inside Debbie's
cunt. Finally, his cock was inside her. Maybe, this meant that
the end was near. But what was the "end"? Would he cut her throat
after he was finished fucking her, or would he just leave? For
the moment though, Debbie was relieved that the guy was just
fucking her and nothing else. She could just lie there and listen
to his shit as he was fucking her, and that was how she was
hoping this would end. He pumped away, all the while continuing
his nasty talk and name calling. It would be over soon enough,
Debbie thought. As she found out, it would not be all that soon.
The guy continued pounding Debbie's cunt for a good fifteen
minutes, and to Debbie's shock, she could feel a certain
sensation starting to build. My God, was she going to cum? She
couldn't do that. But the rhythm was so persistent, and she could
feel it building up inside her and she couldn't resist . Her body
was betraying her in the most horrible way. She tried to hold it
back, but she finally erupted  in a most involuntary explosion,
which seemed to go on forever and overwhelm her whole body. It
was easy for Howard to tell that Debbie was cumming. "There ya
go, slut," he taunted her. "You done cum like a real ho." Howard
wasn't nearly finished though. Another ten minutes of hard
fucking later, Debbie came again, and again Howard gave her hell
for it. Finally, Debbie could sense that he was ready to let go
himself. He came with a bang, and she could feel his spunk
filling her, and making her feel a bit more comfortable because
of the added lubrication.

What was going to happen Next? Was he going to subject her to
more torment, kill her, or just leave?

Howard got up and walked over towards Debbie's head. He picked up
a cloth of some sort. Debbie guessed it was the same cloth he had
used as a blindfold when she was being hanged. "Open your mouth,
bitch," he ordered. Debbie complied, and he stuffed the cloth in
her mouth. He then wrapped the lower part of her face with a
length of the yellow rope to insure that she couldn't spit the
cloth out.

Howard spent no more than five minutes collecting his stuff,
throwing it in a bag and leaving. He said nothing to her as he
disappeared out the door, but he did something which disturbed
Debbie more than anything else he could do - he left the door
half way open. "Oh my God," she thought. It was close to
daybreak, and that witch of a whore, Monica, would be getting in
soon and would have to walk right by that door to get to her
apartment. Sure enough, ten minutes later, Debbie heard the big
front door opening and the clickity clack of her spike heels
coming down the hallway. She heard her pass the partially open
door and stop. Then Debbie saw a hand on the door and heard
Monica's  voice.

"Anybody home?" Monica asked as she peered in around the door.

She immediately saw Debbie and said, "Geez, what are you doing
there like that?"

It was the stupidest thing Debbie had ever heard anyone say.
Couldn't Monica see that she was tied up and bloody, and needed
help?

Debbie was more aware than ever of how wide apart her legs were
spread and how open her pussy must have been. She could feel the
spunk oozing out. Monica walked slowly to the foot of the bed
looking directly at Debbie's crotch.

"Is this a weird sex thing you're doing? Do you want me to leave
you alone?"

Debbie violently shook her head back and forth and tried to say
"no",  but all that came through the gag was a muffled "argh"
sound.

"Oh, I don't know what to do - just wait here," Monica said, as
if there was something else that Debbie could do.

Debbie saw Monica hurry out the door and heard her walking up the
steps to the second floor. My God, what was she doing? Debbie got
her answer soon enough, as she heard Monica knocking on Lenny and
James' door. A few minutes later, she heard multiple footsteps
coming down the stairs, and Monica, Lenny and James came in the
room. Now, all three of them were examining Debbie and trying to
figure out what to do. Lenny said that he thought they'd better
call the police. Debbie didn't want the police involved - she
just wanted to be untied. That was not to be, as Lenny went
running upstairs to phone the police. Upon his return, all three
of them stood over Debbie, staring at her and wondering among
themselves what was going on. All three slowly seemed to
gravitate to the area at the foot of the bed, where they could
get an unobstructed view of Debbie's dripping wet, wide open
cunt. They stood there for what seemed like forever, occasionally
glancing at Debbie's crotch and talking to each other, often in a
whisper. Then the police showed up.

Debbie was expecting to be immediately untied. That's apparently
not how it works, however. You see, in order to collect the ropes
as evidence, the knots must be left intact, and the rope itself
must be cut. It would be a few minutes more till someone showed
up with the proper knife to cut the rope.

Finally, Debbie was free. She had been spread-eagled so wide for
so long, she could hardly use her legs. They took her away,
wrapped in plastic, so all of the forensic evidence her body
contained could be preserved and protected for lab testing.
She did not want to be tested; she did not want to file a
complaint; she just wanted the whole thing put in her past and
forgotten. When they asked her for a description of her attacker,
she told them he was wearing a mask, and that she couldn't
possibly identify him. She told them nothing about Howard taking
pictures of everything, or anything about what she was forced to
say and do. She wanted this whole episode to end; not to be
replayed in further testimony or extended investigation.

When she got back to her apartment, she found that, while the
intruder had done little to disturb the place, the police crime
people had torn it apart. It's not like the guy stole anything,
so there were no theft reports to be made or investigated. In
fact, she had told them so little about him, they didn't  really
know what they were looking for. They didn't know he had taken
pictures of the whole thing, so they couldn't possibly know that
the little disposable camera on the night stand next to the bed
did not belong to her.

What to do with that camera, Debbie thought. She threw it in the
kitchen trash can, then she retrieved it. How can you keep such a
thing? Then again, how can you throw it away.

Lenny, James and Monica would have a lot to talk about for a long
time. Fact is, they wouldn't stop talking about it till Debbie
moved out, and she knew it. Monica could have cut her loose or
taken the rag out of her throat before she did anything else. She
could have done that, and if she had, Debbie would have told her
to go away and forget what she had seen, but she knew that Monica
wanted to get all that she could from the situation in terms of
Debbie's total humiliation and embarrassment.

It took me a long time - at least two years - to get the whole
story out of Debbie. It came in bits and pieces, and at my
sympathetic urging. My tone was one of understanding and always
with an appropriate sense of shock and dismay. Of course, I never
let on that I was taking notes and that, more than a few times,
had used the details of Debbie's account as "inspiration" for
some late night masturbation sessions, or that I was trying to
find a good reason why she should let me have that little
disposable camera. I've told Debbie that anything she tells me
about this incident stays with me, and that she can confide in me
with complete confidence. That may be a bit of a lie, but I am a
good listener, and I know she appreciates me for being that way.