Rape Me by wetfly6969 (wetfly6969@aol.com) ~~~ *********************************************************** A teenage girl is convinced she's branded with an invisible message for the whole world to see... *********************************************************** I heard some where that sexualized children, those who are exposed to sex at a young age, often give off signals or nonverbal messages which are picked up by predators. I'm not sure if that is the case for me, but I know something is going on. It's happened far too many times to be a coincident. Maybe I'm just an easy mark or perhaps I have "Rape Me" tattooed in bold letters on my forehead for the whole world to see. Whatever it is, I've spent my life being raped. This is my story. I'm not sure when it first happened or who was the first. I have only fractured memories loosely joined like mosaic tiles from pieces of my shattered life. I remember things like holding a strange, fleshy object in my chubby little fingers not sure what to make of it. I remember the tear drop crying from the small hole as it drew closer, piquing my curiosity. I remember the saltiness and the strange consistency. It was the beginning, but far from the end. My home life was chaotic to say the least. My father was an alcoholic with a violent temper and a gambling problem. In the past he had blackened my mother's eyes more times than I can remember, knocked out her teeth and once beat her so bad she needed to be soaked out of the clothes that were sticking to her wounds. Butch, my older brother was also on the receiving end of his anger on more than one occasion. Ironically he was seldom violent with me and was the only person who ever told me that loved me and meant it. My mother was cruel, bitter, overwhelmed and also an alcoholic. She had a temper too and once stabbed my father in the chest, narrowly missing his vital organs. I was mostly the one on the receiving end of her anger and she often told me that I was worthless, ugly and stupid. Her favorite thing to tell me is that she wished that I had never been born. Fortunately for me she worked most days as a second shift leader for a large retail store and wasn't home much to torment me. She did make sure that the rent got paid, we had clothes on our backs and the groceries were bought. As far as love was concerned, there wasn't any. My older brother unfortunately had all the worst of their traits with none of the good, and certainly none of the love. Heady with power, he was responsible for watching me while our parents were gone and decided when I woke, when I could go to the bathroom, what I could eat and how much. He slapped, screamed, shoved and belittled me until I felt like I was nothing but garbage. When he was ten and I was six, he added sexual abuse to that tyranny and whatever sanity my fragile little world had just crumbled to dust. Telling didn't seem like an option, my parents were already too consumed by their own destructive lives and I feared telling would tip the entire precarious balance of our miserable existence. Plus I believed my father was violent enough to kill my brother if I told him and I couldn't bear to have that on my conscience. No matter how bad it got, I never told a soul about what was going on. One of the worst days that I can remember was an afternoon when I had done everything I could to keep my brother at bay. That night when my father came home he was already angry at something and Butch told him I'd refused to do anything he told me to do. What he "told" me to do was suck his cock and I refused, but that was beside the point. My father came at me in a rage, took off his belt and started to beat me with it saying by disobeying my brother I was disobeying him. My brother stood behind him smirking. I'll never forget being eye level with my father's revolver, crouching and trying to keep my face from being hit and all I could think of was `if I tell him what my brother is doing, he'll take that gun out right now and blow his brains all over the kitchen floor'. But I couldn't do it, and because my brother knew this, the abuse got worse. The shame that I was "allowing" this to happen nearly drove me insane. I felt responsible and dirty. After the beating, my father began getting violent with me as well. I was no longer his little girl, but a body to vent off his frustrations and violence. Then it turned sexual. Not a day went by that I wasn't getting hit or yelled at by one or more of my family members and used for sexual pleasure by my father and/or brother. I didn't have any friends. I remember sitting alone in the corner of my second grade class with a self-esteem the size of my tiny hands. Maybe it was a combination of things. All I know is that my alcoholic father beat me and touched me but I can't remember many particular incidences. Only the fear that stuck out in my mind is a memory of yelling, and my mother's face covered in blood... I was deathly afraid of him. Only parts of incidences can I remember... like sitting obstructing my door, blocking the screaming coming from outside... his voice approaching... and sobbing... rubbing welts, bruises and scars on my body and the feeling of helplessness as he poured his lust into my soul. The alienation that I felt made me confused as to who I could trust. When one of my brother's friends, five years older than me, decided to slip his hands inside my pants when I was seven, I thought affection was something I was supposed to feared. My body froze. I let him take control over me. I felt his tongue slip in my mouth, his finger into my most private place and I lay like a stone, allowing him to play with my body. Other girls my age nervously giggled about the subject of kissing. I didn't and for me it was much more. My brother was in the next room playing a video game while his friend was fondling me. I was too scared to speak and too ashamed to stop him. When he stood, I felt a moment of relief thinking that it was over but that momentary reprieve was quickly dashed when he unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard cock. He didn't need to instruct me on what to do, I already knew. Leaning forward, I took his cock into my mouth; sucking and jerking on it just like my father taught me to do. Butch was also receiving the benefit of my extensive training but right then, only Leo was getting pleasure from my oral skills. When he came, I didn't pull away and didn't flinch as the volleys of come hit the back of my throat, making it's way down my throat, rotting my core. ~~~ My mother was seldom home, and when she was, she wasn't really there. She was too busy dealing with her own selfish issues and the abuse she got from my father. On the nights she worked late, she would leave me alone with my brother and father, where I'd lay frozen as my father's hands rubbing a numb, limp, lifeless body. He entered me with his fingers, seeing how many he could fit inside, telling me this wasn't pain, but it was. I wanted something other than the pain I felt at home. He'd wake me at night, where I wouldn't budge as he rubbed his cock on my body. He'd make me touch him and shoot the gooey white stuff on me or inside my mouth and just leave as if walking away from a urinal. That is what I felt I had become; a urinal for their lust. My first "real" rape happened just before Halloween, when I was seven. I was outside trying to keep away from my brother and his friends when a stranger picked me up off the street. I didn't scream or fight him as he carried me into his car. He took me to a vacant house near where we lived and undressed me, throwing my clothes aside like dirty laundry. He stripped me totally naked then started feeling me all over my body. My reaction was the same as when my father or my brother did that to me. I froze and went numb. He then tried to rape me but he said I was too tight and he pulled my legs apart, spitting onto my privates. He then took out a tub of Vaseline and stuck his fingers inside of me. Even though my father had fingered me several times, I remember how his aggressiveness hurt but that was nothing of what was to come. When he raped me he covered my mouth as I screamed. His giant cock tearing at my insides, hurting so badly that I was groaning and crying for my mommy. The pain was blinding and I saw dancing stars all around me. He kept saying I had to shut up and keep quiet because if my mom found out she would send me away. I tried to get up, but he was far larger and heavier than I was. There was no way to get away or stop him. Once he had finished he took some old newspaper and wiped me with the course paper as I was bleeding a lot. He then reminded me not to tell anyone as I will be sent away and punished if I did. I believed him and didn't tell anyone. Then just like my father, he walked away, leaving me alone in the dilapidated old shack zipping his pants as if walking away from a toilet. Like an old crippled woman, I slowly walked the two blocks home, holding my bloody crotch and the burning increased with each step. I felt used but didn't understand the emotion. Sneaking into the house, trying to hide from Butch, I made it to the bathroom to clean up. Naked in the shower, I rinsed the dried blood and pink flakiness from between my legs just as my brother entered the bathroom. He got great pleasure from watching me "playing with myself" and told me to keep doing it. Not wanting to tell what had happened, I finished washing myself and got out of the tub, reaching for a towel. Like the menacing older brother he was he took it from me and the next thing I know; I'm being lead to his bedroom. Even though he tormented me and made me suck him and play with him and he played with me, he had never tried to fuck me. That day was different. It was like my rapist left a "rape me" mark on my body and Butch recognized it. He wasn't even close to the size of the stranger, but it hurt still the same. He was eleven and bigger than I was, but that didn't matter as I never gave him the slightest amount of resistance. He took what he wanted from me, leaving me alone and sobbing when he finished. This became a daily occurrence from that day on. A few days later, on Halloween, my uncle started molesting me. He came over to take me trick or treating and afterward, took me to his apartment. My mother had to work, my father had gone out drinking and gambling and Butch went out with his friends. He didn't want me tagging along and left me home alone. My uncle offered to take me and I was thrilled. That is until we were alone. Not having a costume, he took me to the store and bought one for me. I was a princess pirate and as soon as we finished knocking on a few doors, he took me back to his apartment and stripped me down to my underwear before doing the same. I remember seeing the large bulge in the front of his white briefs, jutting out like a rocket just before they too came off. I swallowed hard, knowing what would be happening next. He had seen the mark too. The first time he simply touched me and had me play with him until he came. He seemed pleased when he "discovered" that I wasn't a virgin. After that he began visiting more often and would take me to his apartment, dressing me up in make up and tight clothes. I had to call him my *special uncle* as he touched and fingered me. By Thanksgiving his molestation got worse as once or twice a week he came for me, taking me to his small apartment. At this time he was forcing me to perform oral sex on him and he would do things to me with toys and fruit. Two weeks later the molestations had turned into rapes and I froze, doing nothing to stop it. This went on with him until I was ten when he got remarried to a woman with a six-year-old daughter. A few months after my uncle started raping me, my father caught me performing oral sex on Butch and yelled at me. He was furious and threatened to beat us both if he ever *caught* us doing that again. I think the reason that he didn't kill Butch was that he was doing the exact same thing to me most nights. He must have known what else Butch was doing to me and attempted to keep me away from him. I felt a great relief when he asked my grandfather to watch me while they were at work thinking that my torment from my brother was over. Grandpa became my savior, my best friend and my favorite person in the world. We had our own little world whenever I visited him. He was my only friend and we did everything together. The summer I turned eight, he became different. One time, we took a ride in his blue pick-up and he pulled over on the side of a deserted road. Turning off the truck, he reached for me and started rubbing my crotch. As usual, I felt myself growing tense and just sat there, allowing him to fondle me all over my body. He also taught me the word "horny". He said that was how I made him feel and that it was a good feeling, for him anyway. Wanting to spend time with him and wanting to keep him happy with me, I allowed him to touch me in that way and I even touched him, making him come all over my hand on my very next visit. After all, he was my grandfather, my best friend and my favorite person in the whole world. He started making up games for us to play, especially ones where I had to sit on his lap and "dance" around. During one of these games, my grandmother walked in. She took me out of the room and told me that I was a bad girl for doing that to my grandfather. Meanwhile, Grandpa wanted me to sneak away and go back to him to finish our game. When my grandmother caught me again, he got angry with me and refused to talk to me all day. I felt really depressed after that because I loved him so much and felt like it was my fault that my grandmother caught us. The day that he raped me is a day I've been running from for my whole life. It started when a neighbor of his stopped by for a few minutes. As he was leaving, he lifted me into the air and gave me a kiss on the cheek. My grandfather got so jealous that he went inside the house and did not want to talk to me no matter what I did. My grandmother needed a few things at the grocery store and left, leaving me alone with him. My grandpa came and got me, telling me he had something to show me. He took me into the backroom that my grandmother used for her crafts and sat on the bed. He pulled down his pants and told me to touch his cock. I did, even though my whole body felt like running away. The look in his eyes was so dark; it didn't seem as if I was looking at my grandfather. He proceeded to put me on the bed and raped me. He was angry and brutal and it was like he was punishing me for something that I had done wrong. Like the other adults who took sex from me, he was too large for my small body but that didn't matter to him. He plundered my virtue, robbed my spirit and left my core hollow and cold. It only took a few minutes for him to pump his warm slime into me but it felt like hours. He finally got off of me, fixed himself, and brought me to another room where we played cards like nothing happened until my grandmother got home. I don't remember much of his first rape. I have one frozen image, looking up at the bottom of the shelf above the bed in the guest room, where my grandmother kept her doll collection. I would cross my eyes and focus on the colors in the pieces of fabric that appeared over the edge of the shelf. His invasive hands, his loud voice, his harsh stare and his hard cock all a blur, a dead hum. He had seen my invisible tattoo and knew it was okay to rape me. Just like all the others had done. I don't know how often it happened, once or twice a week maybe but I know it continued up until he became too sick to live at home -- pancreatic cancer -- and was transferred to a hospice facility where he died when I was eleven. I didn't cry. I still can't. A lump in my throat, a lump in my chest, anger, sadness, pain and saltiness. I loved him. I hated him. He was my friend. He was my grandfather. He was my rapist. What's strange is that my father was trying to keep my brother from abusing me by sending me over there only to be abused again. His attempts were in vain as Butch never let up. He just had less time to do it in, but still raped me everyday, often multiple times. I had just turned nine-years-old when we had to move to a new house in a bad neighborhood. My father was laid off and we needed to live in a cheaper place and it was in the worst part of town. I felt even lonelier as none of the kids really seemed to like me. They'd all grown up with one another and I was just a scrawny white girl, an outsider, who hardly talked and kept to myself. At school I tried to find a safe place to hide at recess and lunchtime, until my fourth grade teacher started to pay attention to me. I felt special; especially when he told me I could stay in the classroom and help him if I wanted to. I was so thrilled. My mother and father were still fighting and yelling all the time and without him working, it only added to the stress. This man was like a second father to me, one that I wished I had. I trusted him completely, I probably even loved him. I don't know if I would have walked to the ends of the earth for him, but I would have considered it. About a week after I started helping him, he let me sit at his desk to see what it was like looking out over the room from there. It was so exciting and cool that my little nine-year-old brain didn't realize his true purpose. I knew his hand was on my thigh while he talked softly to me but I didn`t pay it any mind until it moved under my skirt. I knew what he was doing and why he was doing it but I didn't know what he expected. He was an adult and my teacher so whatever he wanted to do...well it must've been okay, or so I thought. He stroked my leg very softly and I just sat there at his desk while he moved his hand further and further up until it was pressed against my panties. I didn't know what to say so I said nothing. He was my teacher. And he wasn't hurting me. He started rubbing his hand across my panties, just stroking me lightly. It felt nice; he was so gentle and spoke so softly into my ear. Then when he pulled my panties aside and stroked my bare skin I squirmed and tried to move away but he just held me still and kept on touching me. The thing is, it felt good, much better than when any of the others did that to me, even my uncle. I knew it was wrong, but it felt so nice, a `tickle' feeling is what I called it. A delicious tickle feeling, it made me kind of weak at the knees and it was a good thing I was sitting down. I even began playing with myself at home that night. Exploring with my fingers the way he had done, trying to mimic it myself and make those special feelings happen. The next day during recess he did it again; rubbing me in the right places and the feeling kept getting more intense and more intense until I didn't think I could take it anymore. Then he took his finger away and smiling at me, he sucked on it. Telling me I was a good girl, that I tasted so sweet. I held my breath as he returned his wet finger between my legs and touched me again. This time his finger went lower, touching the opening. I held my breath as the tip slipped inside. I was very wet, not because of what he was doing, but because of what Butch had done to me before school. He smiled and then gave me a hug before the bell rang and the other kids came in from lunch. Moving away from me, I went and sat at my desk. I was there when the other kids came in, as if I'd been sat there all along, but I knew something they didn't. The next day he repeated what he had done but pushed his finger inside of me all the way in. He mentioned something about someone making me a woman already and continued playing with my hole. I sat stiff in his chair, unable to more or say anything. Just as he was trying to push a second finger inside, the bell rand and he jerked his hand away as if I was made of acid. The forth day as soon as the recess bell rang and the other kids rushed out to the playground, I stayed in my seat, afraid of getting up. He was still seated at his desk smiling at me. "Penny, come to me," he said crooking his finger slowly at me. Like a mindless zombie, I made my way toward him, shuffling my feet as I walked. I expected that he'd get up once I got there but he stayed seated. Swiveling his chair, he grabbed me, setting my on his desk right in front of him. I was confused, but remained silent. Pushing on my chest, he smiled. "Lay down, Penny," he whispered. I held my breath and did what he asked, feeling the binder of his planner poking my back. Flipping the hem of my skirt to my stomach, he grasped the band of my panties and pulled on them. "Lift your butt," he added with a smile. Obediently I did what he asked, arching my back as my panties were quickly pulled from my body and placed in his top desk drawer. Leaning forward he kissed me right on my pussy. It caught me off guard and I gasped. "God, you're always so wet, Penny," he stated slurping the juices dripping from me. If he only knew the reason why I was always so wet. The room was quiet and I could hear the kids playing outside the window and the occasional moan, *smack*, *gulp* and *slurp* coming from Mr. Burke. It felt nice, but I think he enjoyed it more than I did because of the sound he made once the bell rang. Slipping off the desk I asked for my panties but he wanted to keep them. It felt weird walking around the rest of the day without them. I wouldn't see him until Monday and had mixed emotions about what he was doing to me. He wasn't hurting me and it did feel nice, but it also felt wrong. As soon as the recess bell rang, he beat the kids to the door, holding it open for them until they all had left. Reaching down he locked it before looking at me with a smile. "We don't want to be disturbed, do we?" he asked with a wink. Approaching my desk, he took my arm and gently pulled me standing. "We'll have more room on my desk," he said nudging me forward. I had butterflies in my stomach as I stood before his desk with him standing behind me. Turning me to face him, he lifted me on to the desk and once again pushed on my chest to lay me down. I expected for him to lick me again and stared up at the water-stained ceiling tiles. Then I heard his zipper and lifted my head to see him stepping closer to me with his very large black cock aimed between my legs. I knew it would be just a matter of time before he would do that to me but I didn't know it would be so soon. He fucked me, coming just seconds before the recess bell rang and it continued almost daily for the rest of the school year. He gave me my first orgasm. And I knew what he was doing was wrong but how am I supposed to feel about this man? It felt good and at least once a week I had a small orgasm and actually looked forward to this time in the school day, our special time, when he would "make love" to me and make me feel good. I liked it. I wanted it. My father didn't actually fuck me in the sense of full intercourse, but did everything short of it, including oral sex. Most of the time it was quick and straightforward, over with in a matter of minutes. I know Butch knew what he was doing to me and I even saw him watching us once through the crack in my door as our father stood next to my bed while I sucked his cock. He disappeared from the hallway as soon as I swallowed his come but returned moments later, coming into my room for some of the same. My mother and father finally got a divorce just before Christmas of my fourth-grade school year. My dad just up and left, leaving the three of us to fend for ourselves. It wasn't long before my mother met this guy at work and became good friends with him. They started spending a lot of time together and she really liked him. He was kind to her and made her feel good so she trusted him. He was over a lot and I soon came to trust him too and considered him a friend and in a way, a father. That trust was shattered when one day he came over while my mother was at work. Butch was gone and I was home alone enjoying the sanctuary of not having anyone there to rape me. We talked a little, drank a soda and then he leaned over and kissed me. I was shocked and didn't know what to do. He was mom's *boyfriend* and he was kissing me. I don't remember if I kissed him back, but I do remember his hand on my chest, feeling my budding nipples. I had on a tight pullover tee-shirt and my small buds made little lumps in the front and he was playing with them. It was the summer I turned ten and I was more sexually experienced than most college girls by that time and he seemed to know this, he could see the signs. Carrying me in his arms to my mother's bedroom, he gently laid me on her bed and began undressing. I stared mesmerized, watching as his naked body slowly came into view. Once nude, he began undressing me and soon we were on my mother's bed with him touching and kissing me all over as if we were lovers. He performed oral sex on me, licking me places that no one had before. Lying on my stomach with my butt cheeks spread wide, he lathered my asshole with saliva, lapping at me like a dog and sticking his tongue into my small hole. Rolling me over, he licked my pussy the same way before sliding up my body, dragging his cock and balls along my stomach and chest until it reached my face. It was my turn to return the *favor*. Afterward we had sex. I no longer considered what my grandfather, my uncle and my brother were doing to me as rape. It was sex. It couldn't be rape as I was willing to let them take what they wanted from me. Rape requires force and resistance, neither of which was present. He wasn't very long but was much thicker than any of my previous *lovers*. It hurt, but I endured, somehow not wanting him to be mad or upset with me. I've done that my entire life. Doing whatever someone want me to do just so they wouldn't be angry at me. Like every guy so far, he didn't use protection and came inside, staying on top of me until he was soft and then simply rolled over. He was finished and mumbled something stupid before crawling over me to redress. He left the room without looking at me. Just like using a urinal, he left, flushing away my self-worth in the process. I heard the front door close but I couldn't move. I closed my eyes trying to clear the images of what he did to me from my mind. I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember is Butch standing over my naked body, shaking me with a big grin on his face. My "rape me" tattoo must have been glowing. Dennis began visiting more often and sometimes spent the night. On one of these nights I was awaken just after 1 in the morning with him stroking my hair and telling me how beautiful I was. He wore only a pair of boxers and I knew that he and my mother had already had sex about two hours earlier as I could hear them. My mother was very loud when it came to sex. Slowly he unbuttoned my pajama top, pushing it open to expose my nipples. Bending down, he sucked on them until they were glossy in the dim light. Taking my hand, he put it on his crotch and I sighed feeling his erection. I knew what he wanted and waited obediently as he pulled the covers away, ripping my panties from my body in one swift motion. Without hesitation, he mounted me, sliding his hard cock fully inside on the first thrust. I grunted and grasped my sheets while he stroked back and forth taking from me whatever he wanted. He lasted longer than usual but soon left me alone, feeling lonely, hollow and with a pussy full of his come. I don't know if the others knew about what was going on, but they seemed to be working collectively, carving me up like a Thanksgiving turkey, each taking a piece of me whenever the mood struck. The first to stop having sex with me was my uncle. He had a new play toy and just stopped coming by, not that it mattered to me. Within a year, my grandfather also quit molesting me as his health was deteriorating rapidly. There was no need to celebrate or relax as others were soon there to fill the void. An older cousin in high school, Russell, started having sex with me between the time my uncle and grandfather stopped. He was a junior in high school and continued having sex with me until he went off to college a year and a half later. Sex didn't happen often with him, but enough to reinforce the fact that I was worthless except for the holes that I provided for their pleasure. For years my brother never allowed his friends to know about us, I guess he was ashamed to tell them or he somehow knew incest was taboo, but I was safe from most of them, or so I thought. Butch was fourteen and in high school, when the next big event occurred. He was in his bedroom with a couple of his friends smoking pot and talking about various girls they wanted to have sex with. Our rooms were adjacent and I could hear the conversation, smirking as they called out one girl's name or another or described her body or what they wanted to do to her. When his room went silent, I assumed they had left and un-muted my TV. The next thing I knew, the three of them were in my room, each staring at me with the same lustful glare. The cat was out of the bag, they knew about us and he will willing to share me with his friends. Without saying a word, Butch came over and pulled my shorts down. The others joined in. That was the first time I had sex with three boys at the same time. Hell, until that time I hadn't had sex with two guys at the same time but it quickly graduated to a foursome. Though they didn't have anal sex with me that time, I did get a finger or two pushed back there while they took turns fucking me. Momma wouldn't be home until late and they had all evening alone with me. This became a common practice as he started offering to "trade" sex with me for cigarettes, pot or beer with older guys and there didn't seem to be a shortage of takers. Once he asked a friend to take him some place across town but he wanted money for gas. Butch grabbed me by the hair and literally threw me at the guy's feet. "She'll suck you," he told him smirking. I had become a commodity. Around this time everyone seemed to know about me and I was getting teased a lot in the neighborhood. Older guys and men could tell from my "signals" that I would allow them to have sex with me. They didn't even need to ask as I wouldn't tell. Right before school started again, around midnight, I was suddenly awakened. I can't remember if I had heard something or felt something but I remember lying in my bed and trying to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness. In my head, I have an image of a pair of legs stepping into my bedroom through my bedroom window. I'm not sure if I created this image or if it's real. Next, there was movement toward me and I remember a really heavy body lying on top of me. Someone was shoving the side of my face into my pillow and poking the blade of a box-cutter into my neck. "Shut up or I'll kill you and whoever comes to help you," he told me. I remained quiet as he did what he wanted to me. He didn't need the blade as I wouldn't have fought him or screamed. I do remember that he was black and very hard, but I couldn't tell you what he looked like. Only that he was very long and it hurt the back of my pussy. The memories of his rape are just flashes, like a strobe light in the dark showing brief glimpses of what was happening. What I remember the most are the names he called me. Slut, whore, pig, disgusting, pathetic, a cunt, and useless. He said no one is ever going to believe I was raped because I'm so ugly. Blah, blah, blah. He raped me with things he found in my room, including the remote, my brush and curling iron and made me perform oral sex on him. He kept saying he wouldn't stop until I cried but I know I must have been crying the entire time. I still don't know why it wasn't loud enough for any of my mother or brother to hear. It felt like he was there for hours but it was only about thirty minutes. Like all the other times before, I didn't tell anyone. I would suffer in silence and hide in my shame. He was right about something though. I was a slut, a whore, a pig, a cunt, disgusting, pathetic, and useless. Well maybe not useless. I was serving a purpose for any man who wanted to use me. About a month later I wa raped again while walking home from school. This man grabbed me and raped me in the middle day inside a wooded area about three blocks from our apartment. I was numb while he thrust himself into me, pulling my hair and squeezing my nipples very hard. I didn't fight him. That's what people say you should do; don't fight and I remain motionless until he had finished. He wore a condom, one of the few men to do that, and I think it was to keep him from getting caught by the police and not for my protection. While still dating Dennis mom started dating other men as well. Dennis still dropped by from time to time but not as often as before. Tony was the next man she started bringing around the house and from the very start he gave me the creeps. On their second date mom was still getting dressed and told me to "keep him company" until she came out. He was sitting on one end of the couch so I sat on the other not sure what to say to him. Immediately he moved over next to me and put his arm around my shoulder, pulling my face against his chest. Leaning down, he kissed the top of my head and said something about me looking "sexy". I was ten-years-old and still can figure out why older guys thought I was *sexy*. I wanted to push him away as he was big and hairy and very scary looking. When I felt his hand on my leg I panicked. It was happening again! The hand around my shoulders began rubbing against my right nipple and I couldn't breathe. My mother was in her bathroom getting dressed to go out with this guy and his hands were all over me! Hearing my mother approaching, I tried pushing away from him. I knew if she caught me like this that she would blame me for trying to "steal" her boyfriend. She entered the room just as I broke free, getting one hand away from my nipple but he still had the other on my leg. "How do I look?" she asked spinning around like a princess. Taking his grubby hands off of me he whistled and stood up, saying how beautiful she was. His crotch was profiled in my face and I could see his very obvious erection snaking down his left pants leg. I sighed a breath of relief as he wouldn't be using that thing on me. My relief was short-lived as he returned the next night while momma was at work. He brought me McDonald's and asked to come it. The next thing I know I'm in my bedroom on my back with this woolly mammoth thrusting and grunting on top of me as if he hadn't had sex in months. He was rough and jabbed into me like a knife, pounding against my much smaller body like a psychopath. I cried out several times as his pounding became unbearable but that didn't faze him in the least. When he was done he got dress and put a twenty dollar bill on my dresser. "Thanks," he mumbled before leaving. I didn't have a chance to eat before he had sex with me and the food was cold. I ate it anyway. Harold was a much older man, almost as old as my grandfather and I wondered why my mother was going out with him. They were out really late and woke me up from being so loud at three in the morning. I remember wanting to yell at them to shut up, but knew better. Momma kept laughing really loud so I figured she was drunk again. After a while they were quite and I turned over hoping to go back to sleep. Then my door opened and the light from the hallway filled my room. Turning around I saw the silhouette of this large, out of shape object filling my doorway. The light behind him was too bright to see his face but I knew who it was. The nearly sixty-year-old, out-of-shape bald man that momma had gone out with. He walked closer and I cringed. He wore only his underwear and had large, saggy man-boobs, had a huge pot belly and skinny legs. My mother must have passed out and he came in my room looking for sex. He took his time, fondling my entire body from my toes to my ears, licking and kissing a trail between. He wasn't excessively large and couldn't get fully erect, which seemed to make it harder for him to come. I just wanted him to hurry and get it over with but "lasted" longer than any of the other rapists. There were others, Andrew, Duane, Ronnie, Fred, Vinnie and a guy named Shane who was only about 10 years older than me and much younger than my mother. Two or three others who I can't remember their names also forced themselves on me during this time. They all went out with momma and all ended up having sex with me, most returning many times after that for sex. I was too young to understand what was going on and though maybe I was doing something to lead them on. I maybe could understand one or maybe two of them wanting to have sex with me, but every man she brought home for a date had sex with me. I thought it was my invisible "rape me" sign telling them it was okay and tolerated sex with them. The next man she brought home was Roger and he kept smiling at me until they left. Mom always wanted me to meet her dates and "keep them company" until she was dressed and this was no different Butch was spending the night at a friend's house, which meant that he wouldn't be home to rape me that night. I took this temporary freedom to heart and walked to the corner 7-Eleven for a Slurpee and a bag of chips. Walking home, a car pulled next to me, blowing the horn. The driver was one of the many guys I'd fucked thanks to Butch and I tried to ignore him, but he was very persistent. He kept calling my name and eventually I went to the driver's side, noticing that he wasn't alone. There were three other guys with him and he was talking all sweet to me, telling me how *fine* I was and offered me a few rolled joints if I went with them for a ride. I don't know why I did it and even today I still don't know, but I got in, crawling over one of the guys in the back-seat to sit between them. Two hours later I was dropped off in front of my house, dripping sperm with my ass burning from my first anal rape. I was stupid for going and hated myself for not trying to stop them. They did whatever they wanted to me and I allowed them. I was the perfect little plaything and they took advantage of me. To make matters worse, I had locked myself out of the house and it was getting late. I sat crying for the longest time. I decided to knock on my neighbor's door to use the phone. I wanted to call my mom and ask her to come home early but she quickly put me in my place, yelling at me that I wasn't going to "ruin" her night out and since I was so stupid to lock myself out of the house, I could just sit there until she got home. I still had the phone to my ear as it went dead. Chris had heard our conversation and offered to let me stay at his house until my mom got home. I thought he was really nice and quickly agreed. I didn't want to be alone outside after dark in our neighborhood. We sat together watching a movie on the TV, laughing and joking about how dumb it was. Suddenly he grabbed me as if he was going to hug me and the next thing I knew I was on the floor with him on top of me kissing me. I was terrified and didn't know what to do. I tried to not let him kiss me and struggled to get up but I hit my head on the coffee table. He kept kissing me and held me down with one hand while he struggled to get my pants down. He fingered me, had me suck his cock and then he had sex with me. Like all the other men, he could see my tattoo plastered across my forehead. I had just had sex with four guys less than an hour before that and still had their come inside of me. Either he didn't realize it or didn't care. After he was done told me to go clean up in his bathroom and I stumbled my way down the hallway and grabbed a washcloth to wipe myself. When I came out he was already dressed in his police uniform calmly pouring us some iced tea, as if nothing had happened. I was in shock. He told me I had to leave as he needed to go to work and walked me to my apartment, telling me to be sure not to tell anyone or else *we* would get in big trouble. I sat watching traffic passing, waiting for my mother and not sure when she would be home. Half an hour passed before I noticed a man staring at me from across the street. He made me nervous so I tried not to look at him. Minutes later I saw him walking on my side of the street heading straight for me. I panicked and quickly ran around to the back of the house thinking that he wouldn't follow. I was wrong. Catching up to me, he threw me to the ground while I struggled to get away. He slapped me once and I suddenly froze, unable to move my arms and legs. Ripping open my shirt, he roughly pinched and pulled my nipples, squeezing them until they felt as if they would pop. My shorts came off next and I held my breath. He was dark, the light was bad and I was scared so I don't remember much about him or what he looked like. He didn't remove any of his clothes and simply unzipped his pant and pulled his cock through the front. Closing my eyes, I held my breath until I felt him penetrate me, forcing it very deep inside. I spread my legs wider attempting to minimize the discomfort of his size and he must have taken this as compliance or pleasure because his violent thrusts increased. He left me lying there like a pile of trash the instant he was finished with me and I curled into a ball, not moving for the longest time until I saw the light go on in the kitchen. Momma was home. Slowly I closed my shirt and pulled my pants back on, making my way to the backdoor. I had to knock three times before she answered and I meekly entered, not making eye contact with her. I noticed someone sitting at the table and looked up. Roger was there and he was smiling at me. I never told anyone about Chris and the abuse continued until for almost two years. He became even closer with my family and I think my mother knew what was going on but never did anything. He had convinced me that I was having an affair with him and we were "lovers". I still had no friends at this time and was ashamed of what I was being forced to do everyday with many different men. During this time he married and had a new stepdaughter a year older than me. She and I became close friends even though we were complete opposites. He started abusing her and often made us do lesbian things to each other while he watched. The worst thing was the very large strap-on dildo he bought for us to "play with". Since she was older and much bigger, she usually wore it and seemed to take her anger and aggression out on me with it, hurting me more than most of the men I was having sex with. I don't know if her mother ever knew about what he was doing to us or making us do, but she never tried to stop it. If I didn't go over there on my own, he'd send Chelsea over to get me a couple of times every week and I knew what was going to happen. She was much more developed than I was and he was afraid she'd get pregnant so I became the human condom he used to prevent that from happening. He favored my "tighter" pussy but when he did fuck her, I had to be close by to receive his sperm. During this time in my life I lost all sense of myself and just wanted to get away from everything and everyone. One Saturday morning, around my twelfth birthday, my mom had to go to work a little early because someone called in sick and her newest boyfriend, Bobbie, had spent the night. After breakfast, he offered to wash the dishes help clean up. Mom was so happy she finally found a man willing to help out with the housework. I was still eating my food and she was hardly out the front door when he came behind me and moved my hair away from my neck. I got a cold chill feeling his lips against my bare skin. Taking a deep breath, I gasped feeling his hand slipping down the front of my pajama top as he touched my breasts. He wanted sex and somehow knew it would be okay to rape me. Taking my hand, he pulled me into my mom's room and gently pushed me onto the bed with a very serious expression. Staring down at me, he pulled open the robe he wore; exposing the fact he was naked and very aroused. I didn't speak, didn't resist, and didn't try to stop him as he took from me what he wanted. "Don't tell your mother!" he growled, getting off of me to go shower. Words were not exchanged after that as he left silently. It was still early and Butch was still asleep. I didn't want to be around when he awoke and quickly dressed right after Bobbie left. I didn't take a shower because the running water would have brought my brother into the bathroom. Pulling my hair into a pony tail and slipping on a pair of jean shorts, I took off not knowing where I was going but knowing that I didn't want to be home anymore. I walked to the 7-Eleven and then down a few streets away from our apartment. Around one of the corners there was a moving truck with a few older guys, college guys I later found out, bringing things inside an apartment. I stood back and watched as the five of them went back and forth, carrying in their furniture. One of them noticed me watching and came over. "Hi, I'm Derek," he said extending his hand with a smile. I don't know why I was just standing there watching but it caught his attention. I should have left when I saw him walking toward me but I stood like a statue until he got there. "I'm Penny," I whispered staring at the ground unable to make eye contact with him. "You want to give us a hand?" he asked still smiling. He was very cute but with all of the bad things that had happened to me, I couldn't trust him. I couldn't trust anyone. I remember pulling my bangs over my eyes hoping somehow it would cover my brand. "Uh, I can't," I said taking a step backward. "I'll pay you," he said pulling out his wallet. "Twenty dollars for maybe an hour work? We have pizza too, if you're hungry," he added still smiling. He had the cutest dimples and a warm face. "Here, take it," he insisted grabbing my hand and putting the money in my palm. "Come on, you can carry the small stuff," he said grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me behind him. The work wasn't hard and I only brought in a few things, mostly lamps and pillows and light things. They were drinking beer and offered me one, but I didn't want it. I'd seen enough drinking at home to last a life time. I did take a coke and a slice of pizza when offered and sat on the couch to eat. Derek sat next to me and leaned back, extending his arms over the back. "Penny," he said still smiling. "I need a woman's advice on something, do you mind helping me out?" "With what?" "I want to paint my bedroom a different color but I'm not sure what the best color is. I just hate the color right now," he said standing up and extending his hand down to me. "Come and tell me what you think." Something inside of me was screaming to get out of there, just take off running and don't look back, but I was scared and didn`t want to make him mad at me. He seemed nice, all of them did but they kept staring at me and he did pay me twenty dollars to help but I didn't really do much. The least I could do is pick out a color for him. How hard is that I thought? The three bedroom apartment was a mess, things everywhere and his room wasn't much better. The four poster bed wasn't set up and the box spring and mattress was leaning against the wall. I froze at the doorway, my feet not wanting to enter. He smiled, urging me in, tugging on my hand to follow. "Come on, Penny, don't be shy. I just need your input." Eventually I relented, allowing him to pull me into his bedroom. "It's hard to see the walls with all my junk blocking it," he said pulling the mattress to the floor. I remember staring at it as if it was a death sentence and in a way it was. I backed up, knowing what he really wanted and bumped into one of the other guys standing at the door way. "Going somewhere?" he hulking coed asked grinning down at me. "I, uhm, need to get home," I mumbled unable to look up to see his face. "Stay a while," he said propelling me forward back into the room. "The party's about to start and you don't want to miss it, do you?" "Party? What party?" I naively asked. "The party in your pants!" he said reaching down to grab my crotch. By this time Derek was standing behind me and wrapped his arms around my body, placing his hands over my breasts. My throat went dry and I couldn't breathe. The other three guys poured into the room cheering. My body went numb and my legs began to shake. "Bring her over here," he said walking backward toward the mattress with the much larger guy, I later learned was Evan, began to unbutton my shorts. I was screaming for him to stop but no sounds came out of my mouth. I was petrified and only grunted as I fell to the mattress with Evan pulling my shorts down to my ankles. "Raise your arms," Derek said tugging at the bottom of my shirt, exposing my braless chest. I didn't want to but somehow I couldn't stop my arms from lifting. My shirt was pulled over my head, messing up my hair. Brushing my bangs out of my eyes, I saw that Evan already had his pants off and his thick erection was pointing right at my face. Derek wasn't far behind him as his shirt dropped to the floor and his gym shorts quickly joined them. He was the first undressed and flopped to the mattress next to me, wrapping his arm around my neck as he fell sideways, knocking me to my back. Rolling on top of me, he began kissing my listless lips. Evan sat next to us, reaching under him to fondle my small breasts. "PAR~TAY TIME!" I heard someone yell but couldn't see who it was. Derek was blocking my view but heard the rustling of clothes. Wedging himself between my legs, his hand found its way between our legs and I felt the tip of his cock stroking up and down along my crack. I closed my eyes, grunting as he pushed it inside. "Here you go, bitch, suck it," I heard Evan's deep voice ringing out from above me and felt the spongy tip brushing against my lips. I responded, doing as he said and took the bloated head of his cock into my mouth. The five of them raped me for hours. I don't know exactly how long it lasted, but when they finally finished with me, it was getting dark outside. A few times, with Butch's friends, I was fucked by three guys at the same time, but never more than that. Derek and his friends went at me four and five together for most of the time I was there and they never let up. Right up until they couldn't get hard any more. They talked and joked between themselves while I laid there trying to come to terms with what had just happened. I was sore and come-soaked and just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. "A penny for your thoughts," Derek said tracing a circle around my puffy nipple smirking about making a joke with my name. "More like a penny for your twat," Evan added with roaring laughter followed by chuckles from the others. I was slowly coming around and knew I needed to get out of there. I sat up and Derek put his large hand across my chest suggesting that I "rest" a while and give them a chance to "recharge". That's what he told me. I didn't say anything or even look at them as I stood and quickly dressed. I had more than enough and needed to go before they "recharged". "Hey, Penny," Derek called out as I hurried from the bedroom. "We're having an open house this Friday night, you're invited to come," he said snickering. The others joined in for a big laugh as I reached the bedroom door. "Penny, here, I have something for you," Evan said and stupidly I turned to see what it was and saw him flipping something toward me. The shiny object hit my stomach and fell to the floor, rolling in a large circle before tapping out a drum-roll sound until it rested quietly. It was a nickel. I looked up at him confused. "A penny for your twat, remember?" he said sneering at me. "A penny for each of us!" The room busted out with laughter as I turned to rush out. I headed for the front door as fast as I could hearing the sounds of their voices and laughter echoed in my head until I slammed the front door. From then on I avoided that street, afraid that if they caught me, I wouldn't be able to stop them from doing that again to me. "Mom's pissed at you!" Butch informed me as I staggered in the front door still sore from what they had done to me. I must have looked like hell from having five much bigger college guys rape me for hours, but I didn't let it show to my brother how much it actually affected me. He'd use that to further beat me down. "What are you talking about?" I asked feeling the knot in my stomach. "Some guy came over looking for you and you weren't here. Mom called a few hours looking for you and I told her that I hadn't seen you all day. You'd better call her." My hands were shaking as I punched in her cell number. She wasn't supposed to get calls at work but always had her phone with her. It rang about four times before she picked up. "WHAT?!" she yelled. "Momma?" I timidly asked. I knew what she was capable of doing and didn't want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. "Where in the fuck have you been?" she quietly yelled, trying to keep her voice low. I could tell she was in a large, hollow room by the echo in her voice. Probably in the restroom. "I'm sorry, momma, I went to a friend's house and didn't realize how late..." I didn't get a chance to finish before she laid into me about taking off like that without letting her know and that from now on I wasn't allowed to leave the house unless I asked her first. Her scolding lasted about five minutes but seemed much longer. The bottom line is that I was no longer permitted to go any place without first asking her. I didn't realize the ramifications at the time but she effectively entombed my body and spirit into our small three bedroom apartment. "Ronnie needs to get something and will be going over there. Make sure you're home!" she yelled before hanging up. I took a deep breath. Ronnie was coming over and I knew what that meant. Hanging up the phone I made my way to the bathroom to clean up only to find Butch sitting on the toilet lid. "I need to take a shower," I informed him. "So do it, who's stopping you?" he asked with a smile. Exhaling deeply, I pulled my shirt off, exposing the scratches, red blotches and bruises on my torso from Derek and the others. Reaching to turn on the shower, he grabbed my hand and brought it to his crotch, rubbing it against his erection. "Take care of me first," he said standing and unzipping his pants. ~~~ Omar, one of Butch's friends, started coming over a lot that summer to play video games. I always tried to avoid my brother and his friends, but Omar wanted to talk to me, being really sweet. One afternoon he caught me alone watching TV and came to sit next to me. His endless chatter was giving me a headache and I started to get up to go into my room when he grabbed my arm and pulled me back onto the couch. "Don't go," he said and started rubbing my tummy. I tensed up, unable to move and then he took off my shirt. He started to rub my legs and my thighs before he made a slow caressing movement over my crotch and then down my pants. He continued his caressing and all I could do was lay there until he asked me to give him oral sex. The worst part was that I just laid there and let him use my mouth like a vagina. Finally he came and moved away laying there for a minute before he got up and rejoined Butch and the others playing their game. Less than a month later we had a family reunion over the Fourth of July weekend and I really didn't want to go, but momma made me. I met Mario, my "step cousin" at the party and he kept staring at me ask if he wanted to ask me something. It made me uncomfortable being around him but I didn't say anything. He was fifteen- years-old and just one of the other kids at the party. It started simple with him wanting me to jump off is shoulders in the pool. Then he wanted to throw me and kept touching my chest and between my legs every time he lifted me. Then he started flashing me in the pool. I should have gotten out of the pool or told him to leave me alone, but I was too scared to. I'm not sure if I wanted him to like me or if I was just being foolish but I remained and allowed him to touch me. After a while he asked me to touch him and I almost did but my mother called for me from the kitchen window. I felt relived and rushed into the house hoping to avoid him for the rest of the day. I used the distraction to find a place to get away and went into my grandmother's spare room, the one my grandfather often molested me in. I didn't think anyone would follow me in because we weren't allowed to play in "her" room. I was alone in the room still wearing my swimsuit. He came in, and said something, and then he was on top of me. I told him I didn't want to get pregnant, even though I hadn't really started having my period and knew it was impossible. I thought it might stop him. He shrugged, got up long enough to turn me over, and told me in that case, he'd do it a different way. I struggled a little and I guess he decided I was right about the pregnancy thing so he flipped me over and found a less dangerous place to shove his cock into. I was dry as he tore into me and I bled. I couldn't shit for days. I remember the smirk on his face; he thought he was so clever. What a sadistic fuck. When he finished he began yelled at me for not telling him I had my period. I didn't have my period. I was bleeding from where he tore open my asshole. I guess he wasn't particularly bright, either. There are gaps in my memory and I recall finding myself on the bed, blinking as my grandmother asked me why on earth I was sleeping naked in her craft room. I remember glancing toward the other door and seeing that it was wide open, as if someone had just made a hasty retreat. Then she noticed the blood and was mad because my blood was everywhere, all over the bedspread. She was totally clueless on what had happened and assumed, like Mario, that I was having my period. I remember getting up, the pain still burning deep within my gut, and cleaning up before going back outside to see Butch grinning his shitty smile at me. It was time to eat and I had to sit at the same table as Mario with him smirking at me throughout dinner. The main table was for the adults and the younger kids got their own table in the corner. Me and the "bigger kids" had a folding table between the two. I heard my grandmother mention my name and listened to the conversation as she retold the story of catching me sleeping naked in the spare bedroom and urged my mother to "keep a better eye" on me. She told that to my entire family and loud enough to where some of the younger kids gave an "ewww" sound when they heard I was naked. I couldn't tell anyone why I was in there naked and only put my head down. I wasn't hungry any more and just picked at my food until it was time to clean up. Months later, when it was cold outside another man raped me. We still lived in the large apartment complex we moved into just before my father left and it was right near my school bus stop. Through a locked gate was a door to the basement of a group of studio apartments. I found out that my key opened the door to this basement area, which consisted of a laundry area and a storage area that was sectioned off by chicken wire. When it was cold out, I would wait for the school bus in this area. I was twelve-years-old and in the seventh grade. I had gotten into one of the units where someone had a couch stored. I was sitting there finishing my math homework and trying like hell to avoid my mother and brother. I don't know when Tim got there and I didn't know when he planned to do this. I don't know if he had me in mind for sure. About a week or so before this his friend Mike, who lived in our complex, forced himself on me, he made me give him oral sex. I found their friendship and my victimization by each of them to be far too coincidental. Tim came up to me and started talking, I felt awkward because I had never talked to him before and because he was 7 years older than me. I tried to be polite and answer his questions. "What grade are you in?" "Who's your teacher?"...etc. I heard the bus coming down the street but when I tried to get up, he jumped on top of me, pinning me on the couch, covering my mouth. "Shut the fuck up! He told me. He said he knows I'm a little slut and he'll hurt me bad if I don't shut the fuck up. I started to grunt something and he hit me. He told me I was a slut and that this was all my fault for wearing short skirts and shaking my little ass all over the neighborhood. He told me I was asking for it and he was going to give it to me. He lifted my skirt and pulled down my panties. I kept telling him "no", but he wouldn't listen. I stopped moving when he told me to shut up and do what he says so that he doesn't have to hurt me. Then he told me he wanted me to "play with myself". I just looked at him scared, unable to move. He kept yelling at me to do it and finally took my hand, thrust it to my vagina and made me move my hand up and down. He told me not to stop until he told me to. He pulled down his pants and started to jerk off. I stopped my movements and just sat there staring. Then he hit me. I don't remember what happened next, but what I do remember is he's on top of me. I'm on the cold cement floor at this and he's pushing his cock into me. I think I was crying because I remember being startled by a smack on the side my head and more threats to hurt me if I didn't stop crying. Next thing I remember is him sitting on the couch staring at me while he smoked a cigarette. I got off the floor, pulled up my underwear, and grabbed my book bag. But I don't remember getting home. I got in the shower. I sat on the bathtub floor and let the bath tub fill with water by the shower that rained above me. I sat there with my knees drawn up and my head in my folded arms as I cried and shook. I couldn't understand why things like that were always happening to me. I don't know how long I stayed in the shower. I just cried and by the time I had myself together enough to wash up, the water was cold. I went to my room and hugged my pillow until I fell asleep. I was awakened when Butch and one of his friends came into my room. Being a virtual prisoner in my house now gave my brother ample opportunity to abuse me, which he gladly did. Momma met John and they used to sit and drink on the couch before going out or into her room. I tried to avoid him because I still had to deal with her other boyfriends raping me at the time. I wanted to tell her to stop dating so many different men because people will start calling her a slut, but then I was having sex with them too so what would that make me? Momma called me over to "sit" with John while she made them more drinks. He was a little drunk but not sloppy drunk like some of the other guys she hung around with. Hardly anything was said between us until she returned, handing him a drink. "What did you two talk about?" she asked sitting on the other side of him. I shrugged my shoulder, not really wanting to be there. "Nothing really," he said taking a large drink of his liquor. "You know, John," momma said putting her hand on his leg. "Money's a little tight and I need some help paying the rent," she told him smiling. "What kind of help?" he asked before realizing what she meant. "I mean, how much?" "Two hundred," she told him bringing her glass to her mouth, not breaking eye contact with him. "TWO HUNDRED!?!" he yelled nearly spilling his drink. "I don't have that much to loan you!" "It won't be a loan," she said smiling. "I don't understand. You want me to *give* you two hundred dollars?" "You'll be getting something in return. Something very special," she said taking his left hand and putting it on my leg. I caught on a little quicker than he did and my mouth dropped opened when I realized what she was implying. John looked at me and then to her before looking back at me. "You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?" "She's very obedient and will do whatever you want," she said to my astonishment. "Is, um, is she a, uh, a virgin?" Momma laughed, setting her drink down before she spilled it. "Lord no, she's been broken in, but she's still tight." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My own mother was selling me off to some guy like a used car. "What do you say? Two hundred and you can find out for yourself how tight she is." I gulped feeling him squeezing my leg harder. It all made sense to me now. Why all of her boyfriends were fucking me and why she kept insisting that I stay home and why I had to "meet" her new boyfriends and talk to them while she got dressed. She wanted to "show" me off because just like every man in my life, she was using me for her own selfish purpose. John agreed, fishing out his wallet before handing her a wad of cash. She grabbed her purse and left, leaving me alone with this man I had only seen a few times before. Taking my hand, he pulled me into her bedroom as if I was a dog on a leash, swinging me around to fall onto her bed. Thinking we were alone and wouldn't be disturbed, he left the door opened while he undressed me. "She hates you, you know," he said moving between my spread legs. "She hates your guts, she told me that before but I thought she was kidding. I guess she wasn't," he added pushing his cock into me, piercing my soul one more time. Butch tried hiding in the hallway watching as he fucked me, holding my shoulders like handle bars. He became a "regular", dropping by once or twice a week to "see" me. I wasn't sure what kind of arrangement he had with my mother and I didn't really want to know. There were far too many things going on in my life to worry about something as minor as that. By this point I was feeling really low about myself and was very isolated. That Christmas another bad experience happened. Richard, a family friend started abusing me. He raped me at the Christmas party first. Everyone was downstairs really drunk while I was upstairs as this man raped me. The next day he came over and whispered to me that he was really sorry and asked me to go out for a walk with him so he could apologize and make it up to me. I went with him but now I don't know why I did but at the time I thought I was doing it for the best. As he was apologizing he took me into the woods about three blocks from our apartment near where I had been raped before. There he pushed me down pinned me to the ground and raped me again. Once he had finished with me he said, "Now that I know that you will do anything I tell you to do, I will be getting you to do it lots more." From then on until that summer he would call me up, get me to meet him where he would take me someplace and rape me. One time he raped me in a barn. He tied me up for a whole weekend and continuously abused and tortured me. He cut me, burnt me with cigarettes, raped me and made me do humiliating things with things he brought. I thought this was bad but then he sold me to some of his friends that were on drugs and they would come and rape me for fun or I would be used for sex for them to get drugs or money. During this time I became pregnant. I had no idea who the father was but I wanted to keep the baby. I didn't tell anyone about it because I was secretly hoping this would provide some hope for me. But stupidly I still went to get raped and abused by them and one night they raped me so badly I miscarried and bled a lot. They must have thought they really hurt me because they never bothered me again after that. I started drinking after that. Started having sex with a lot of different guys, tried doing drugs, and even started smoking. It was really hard for me to deal with everything going on in my life, hard for anyone to deal with but, because I'm bipolar, I dealt with everything even worse. I met Salvador at a party and right away he seemed to know about me even though we'd never met before. Like I said before, I was not a strong willed person and it was very easy for someone to control me. I despise myself for this. As usual, I went numb and did what he told me to do. He hurt me, a lot. His cock was very large and crooked, and at first he wanted me to keep my clothing on. There was so much he did that was so scary, but I just thought to myself, "If I let this get over with I never have to do this ever again". That was never the case. One night we went over to a friend of his and he told me to have sex with him. I felt like I had been sold again. I do not excuse that I didn't fight back and just cut myself off from the world, except to say that that was my only natural defense, and that anyone could have seen there was something wrong, and that I was afraid. It is still my fault though. The guy wore a condom and when the condom broke, something snapped inside of me and all the pure hysteria I should have been feeling my whole life washed over me. I ran to the bathroom and scrubbed myself clean and filled my vagina with his cologne that had lots of alcohol in it. It burned horribly, and for the only time in my life I seriously contemplated suicide. I got away from Salvador after about six months. I'm not sure if I "got away" or if the episode with his friend made him worry about me. I had changed and felt like I was slowly going insane. Either way it didn't matter because he was no longer raping me and passing me around to his friends, not that there was a shortage of men still doing that to me. Wanting to just get away from all the shit going on in my life I decided to go for a walk and ended up on the street where Derek lived. He was having a party and for some reason, I went inside. It was wild and there were a lot of people there. I drank quite a bit, and eventually passed out on a couch. I woke up in the morning, in a bedroom, naked. I thought I'd had sex with a guy I was talking to at the party. Days later, rumors were flying around that I'd had sex with a bunch of guys that night. My brother told me that he heard that several guys "pulled a train" on me. I'd never heard the expression, and didn't believe it was true, until about a week later one of the rapists apologized to me. I needed to find out for sure what happened and asked him. He told me that he was one of about 20 guys who "had sex" with me that night. That was the straw that broke my spirit. I began drinking heavily, using all kinds of drugs and had heightened anxiety. I was also suffering from severe depression which led to multiple rapes as I engaged in all kinds of risky sexual behaviors and other self destructive behaviors. I was labeled a crazy slut, and believed that I was. I was damaged and worthless. My life got worse as I felt like I needed to do things that I shouldn't do. Like have promiscuous sex. I didn't just have sex; I fucked just about anything walking on two legs, tying to fill the void of my sexual abuse. That's when I got involved with Javon, a controlling man who was old enough to be my father. He was a large, intimidating and as black as the ace of spades. But with all that, he was very sweet to me. In the beginning he was great, treating me better than I'd ever been treated, buying me things, complimenting me, making love to me instead of just using me as a come dumpster as the others did. He got me off drugs and wouldn't allow me to drink. He was the father that I craved but was still my lover. I started spending the night at his apartment and not coming home for a day or two as I wanted to be with him all the time. I was thirteen, he was 39 years and for some reason, my mother didn't object to our relationship even though he was two years older than she was. I don't know if she was afraid of him or if she "sold" me to him or worked out some sort of deal. It didn't matter. Javon was everything I ever wanted in a father and even though his size looked threatening, he was the best boyfriend I could ask for. I felt that no one understood me and I just wanted someone to love me, which he did. My mother didn't care about our relationship because when I came home, she hardly spoke to me, even after being gone for days. With Javon I was happier than I had ever been but that euphoria came crashing down after about a month. He wanted me to move in with him but I wasn't sure I could but knew that I couldn't tell him no. Taking me home, we gathered a few of my things and left, just like that. He changed once he got his claws into me and took advantage of me, raping me physically, mentally and emotionally. He knew I needed someone to love me and used it to his advantage, beating me down until I was even less than a person then I was before. My rape me tattoo across my forehead led him right to me and he was going to buy whatever it was selling. The day after I moved into his apartment a couple of his friends were over watching a basketball game. I got them beer and snacks when they needed it and emptied ashtrays or whatever he wanted me to do. He had been drinking and was very "frisky" grabbing and groping me in front of his friends. Then he dropped a bomb shell. "Penny," he told me, "show my friends how good you can suck dick," he added grabbing his crotch. My eyes widened at the thought. "WHAT?!?" I almost screamed. "Javon, I can't do that! Not with them here!" "Just fuckin' do it, bitch," he ordered, pulling my face to his lap. Sitting up, I hesitated just a little too long and received a hard slap for my delay, knocking me off the sofa. I was stunned and sat on the floor rubbing my reddened cheek. "You'd better do it if you know what's good for you," he threatened unzipping his pants. I had never seen this side of him and it scared me. Even though every man I had ever been close to abused me, this shocked me as I thought that he was different. I guess I was wrong. Crawling between his legs, I began sucking his bloated cock, bobbing my head up and down, trying to get the thick piece of meat into my throat. I sucked him for about ten m minutes before he told me to suck Antoine. Not wanting to make him angry, I moved to the next guy and struggled to undo his zipper. He had to help me but soon it was poking from his pants like a flag pole. I went down on him, slurping and sucking him for all I was worth. I didn't want Javon getting mad at me. He sat watching the game while his two friends fucked me for the longest time, rotating around to different holes as if I was a carnival ride. I didn't resist, didn't struggle and allowed them to use me anyway they wanted. They seemed determined to fuck me into the couch and damn near did. Once they were sated, Javon grabbed my ankle and pulled me off of the couch, telling me to get cleaned up. After that, he never touched me sexually again. I was used merchandise and unworthy of his cock. That's what he told me after a few days had passed and he wouldn't "make love" to me. I began to wonder why he was keeping me around, but I found out soon enough. ~~~ I was told that I wasn't responsive enough and simply lay there like a stone getting fucked. He wanted to change that. It was my coping mechanism, the only way that I could handle dealing with the abuse I got my entire life. I would "zone out", my mind leaving my body to keep my sanity. But this meant that I wouldn't react to the abuser efforts and that wasn't good for business. For the next three days I was gang raped by every low-life "friend" he could find. Four, five, six or more men at a time would repeatedly rape me for hours while Javon would yell at me to "fuck" them back. He informed me that it would continue until I was taught to have sex the right way. When I wasn't getting gang raped, he made me watch porno of women "doing it right". By the end of the third day I couldn't take it any more and begged him to stop. "Only you can stop this," he told me. "Do what I tell you and it will stop." I relented and the next two guys I gave them the ride of their lives, fucking back at them like a crack whore working for a fix. He was smiling, nodding his head while sweat poured off of me from the physical exertion. I was broken and he knew it. "That's what I'm talking `bout!" he yelled out after the second guy had come inside of me. "I think you're ready now." His last statement was ominous but I didn't question what he meant. My "training" involved only black men but now that I was "ready" I started having sex with mostly white men. Older, mostly gray-haired and usually over weight. I met them in motels, in their apartment or house, at their office or some neutral location. I often saw money given to Javon and knew he was pimping me out but I didn't care and it didn't seem to bother me as much as when my mother did it. There was a house in the suburbs that he took me to. A really big house with a huge front yard and a lot of cars. Two armed men stood at the front door and that made me nervous. Just inside was a huge room with several couches and chairs with about a dozen flat panel TVs, all tuned to a different sports channel. There were about a dozen men betting on things and two men taking their bets. We went through the house to a larger room where six tables were set up with five or six men playing cards sat. In the back of the room was a large rectangle table with four men standing and one man sitting on a stool. To the right was a smaller table with a big wheel where one man spun the wheel and three others put chips on the table. "What is this place?" I whispered to him. "Don't worry `bout it," he told me. Then I noticed the two naked women walking around bringing bottles of beer to the men and another one was slowly dancing to the music. I couldn't stop from staring as she twisted and turned seductively. "Come here," Javon told me walking away. His sudden departure snapped me from my trance as I hurried to catch him. "You'll be working the club," he informed me stopping in front of a draped shower curtain mounted to the wall, jerking it aside. There was a blue inflatable mattress with a blue felt covering wedged in the corner which was stained and crusty from use. I looked up at him and opened my mouth to speak but knew better than to say anything. "Fifty for a blowjob and a hundred for a fuck. If they want your ass it's one-twenty," he said casually. "The house gets twenty percent and I expect a grand for myself, understand?" I wasn't very good at math but I knew that it meant I'd be fucking a lot of men in here. Standing terrified at what he was saying, I started to tremble. "What the fuck you waitin' for?" he barked out at me. "Go get me my money!" he added slapping my butt really hard. I had on a short skirt and thin blouse exposing the fact that I wasn't wearing a bra. I didn't have on panties either as he wouldn't allow me to wear them. Every customer I had so far had been arranged for me. Now it was my turn to find them for myself. "Javon, what do I do?" "What the fuck you mean? Get your ass over there and sell that pussy. It ain't rocket science!" "I don't know how." "Bitch, don't make me go off on you, understand? Figure it out!" he ordered shoving me toward the tables. That was my introduction into soliciting. Sort of a crash course and I wasn't particularly good at it in the beginning. It was a Friday and the place seemed to be packed with gamblers and many didn't want to give up their seat in order to fuck me. Javon told me to offer them a "table blow job" where they wouldn't have to leave their chair. For forty dollars I'd get under the table and suck their cock. How much easier could that be for them? The only problem is for me to earn a grand for Javon and the twenty percent for the house; I had to suck a lot of cock. I guess you can say I was "fortunate" that I had one guy that paid for anal sex and six others pay for straight sex. That left me needing to earn about $400 more with my mouth, which I did. We got there about six in the evening and left around two in the morning and I served seventeen "johns" during that time. "You did okay for your first time," Javon said as I shut the door on his Escalade. Surprisingly it made me feel better that he told me that. I guess I was so beaten down and had such low self-esteem that even something as crude as telling me that I did "okay" by having sex with seventeen strangers lifted my spirits. Then he dropped a bomb. "I know tomorrow you'll do better." We returned at 3 pm the next day with me dressed like a Catholic school girl with a pleated skirt, white button down shirt, knee-high socks and black patent leather shoes. I had my hair in two pony tails and he wouldn't allow me to put on make-up to preserve my youthful appearance. I felt stupid wearing it but I didn't have a choice. Most of the men were the same for the night before, but there were a few new ones and they seemed to go wild over the way I looked. There was a old disposable douche bottle in the bathroom and I was instructed that if the "trick" didn't wear a condom, I needed to clean myself before going out again as the guys wouldn't appreciate sloppy seconds. I got a lot more "takers" for straight sex and they all wanted me to leave my uniform on while they fucked me, calling me all sorts of nasty names. They were rough and brutal as they used me and someone actually split the seam on the mattress they had fucked me so hard. That didn't matter as I had to still use the deflated plastic for sex. I "only" did one more client that night but made more money as I was getting more requests for straight sex. That meant less men were needed but more wear on my pussy, especially as rough as they were on me. I'm not sure if someone told them they could do that, but each one of them treated me like that. Javon was pleased with how much I made for him but was angry with me not "getting into it" like I should have. I'll need to work on that before the next time I go there. Every Friday and Saturday night he'd take me there and I'd work it for thirteen or fourteen hours nonstop until he was satisfied with how much I made that night. Like a conveyor belt, the men were coming and going through the curtain like an assembly line, each leaving a little piece of themselves in me and taking an even larger piece from me. I performed like he expected, smiling and moaning as they used me for their pleasure no matter how badly they treated me. The Monday after my second weekend there Javon took me to a really seedy part of town and I wondered what he had in mind now. Pulling up to the curb of a busy intersection, he stopped and told me to "get out". I looked at him as if he was speaking Greek. "Huh? What do you mean?" "You know what the fuck I mean, `ho. Get the fuck out and make me some money!" "Javon, please, don't make me do this," I begged. "Bitch, don't make me go off on you! Get the fuck out and make my money or you'll be one dead-ass ho!" I could tell by the hatred in his eyes that he meant what he said and there was no doubt in my mind that he was capable of doing it. Opening my door, I slid out onto the sidewalk shaking like a leaf in the wind. Shutting the door I just stood there. "I'm watching you," he rolled the window down to inform me before driving away. He wasn't gone long and I was standing there holding onto the streetlight pole like a life-line when the first car pulled up. "How much?" he asked bending over to see me better. I had a chill run down my spine and I froze up. As many guys as I'd fucked before it should have been an easy response but I couldn't open my mouth. He repeated the question and I hugged the pole a little tighter. "Crazy bitch," he said driving off. I almost felt relief, almost felt free but that was short lived. The dark-tinted Escalade pulled up in front of me and the window whined down. "GET IN!!" Javon yelled. I didn't see his fist but felt it as my head and then my body flew against the far door. "What in the fuck do you think you're doing!?!" he shouted, hitting my chest. He had punched the side of my head with such a force that I thought he snapped my neck. I was dazed and saw spots dancing before my eyes while he berated and belittle me, calling me every name in the book he could think of and added a few new ones. I sat there dazed and trying to focus on what he was saying and trying to see straight. His words were mumbled and jumbled together but his message was loud and clear. If I ever did anything like that again I'd be a dead bitch. Reaching across my lap he opened the door and shoved me outside as I fought to grab something to keep from falling. I went down hard, landing on my butt and falling to the side. He ran over one of my shoes which had fallen off as he sped away. I stood and waited, smiling as the next car approached. ~~~ My fourth weekend working in the club resulted in another set back for me. As usual the place was crowded and another girl prostituting herself there too. I felt a little better as I had been doing it by myself for weeks. My relief was short lived as the girl left shortly after I got there and I was once again on my own. After a few hours and several customers, I exited the restroom and stopped from shock. Sitting at the far table was my father gambling as usual. All my anxieties seemed to come crashing down on me and I wanted nothing more that to just get out of there. I didn't want him to see me, didn't want him to know what I had become. Javon noticed something was wrong and asked me what my problem was. Hoping to get sympathy for my plight, I briefly explained about my father being here, pointed him out and asked if I could leave as I didn't want him to see me there. He smiled at my request. "Let's go say `hi' to him," he said grabbing my arm and pulling me toward his table. My eyes widened from fear as we stood across the small table from where he sat. He glanced up at us for a moment before looking back at his cards and then his eyes flew open as he realized who I was. "I've got a special going on for my whore," Javon called out loudly over the music. "One free sample, anyway you want," he added nudging me slightly. Several of the men at the table wanted in on the deal, but I knew what he had in mind. "You," he said pointing to my father. "Interested in a free fuck?" My father's eyes roamed over my scantly dressed body and stopped at my near B-sized breasts. Over the past year I really matured quite a bit and had a nice body, from what everyone told me. He smiled, removed the tooth pick from his mouth and nodded. Javon shoved me toward him. "Show him a good time and you bess be doin' it right, you hear me?" I heard him loud and clear. They replaced the mattress about two weeks earlier but this one was already getting nasty from use. No one bothers to clean it and with as much action as I was getting, it was pretty stained after the first weekend. I took his hand and lead him toward my cubby hole listening to the cheers of the crowd. I don't know if any of them knew he was my father or if they thought he was just a special john. He said nothing to me as I undressed and got on the mattress, spreading my legs. When I was younger he never attempted to fuck me but now I was being served up on a silver platter. Years of frustrations and regrets poured out into me as he savagely abused my body. Not since Richard and his friends has anyone been so cruel and brutal with me and he was hurting me a lot. I wanted to cry out but knew that if I did anything like that, Javon would really give me something to complain about. I endured, allowing him to do whatever he wanted and how every rough he wanted until he stiffened and came, filling my vagina with his incestuous seeds. Slowly he pulled out, sneering down at me in disgust. "I knew you'd be a whore just like your mother," he told me. It had been almost four years since I last saw him and that's all he could say to me? Whatever shred of dignity I had remaining began draining from my body along with his sperm. Standing, he pulled his pants up and walked away, leaving me hollow and ashamed. I felt ruined; felt like all I could be was a vessel for their perversion. Pour all your sickness into me! I couldn't move. Didn't want to. I wanted to crawl into a deep hole and die. Javon had other plans for me as the curtain suddenly jerked aside and he was glaring down at me. "Get moving, you got more dick to work." Slowly I stood, feeling the cooling slime from my father slithering down my inner thighs. Pulling my skirt up, I walked past him, cringing at his pompous expression. "How was your little family reunion?" he asked sarcastically as I silently brushed past him. He grabbed my arm, jerking me back to him. "Clean your cunt before you go back out!" That was my life for the next nine months. Working the "club" on the weekends and working the streets the rest of the time. Whenever he had a john he'd pick me up for the date and then return me to the corner where I turned tricks for twelve hours a day. A few months before I turned 15 he decided to expand my horizon and made me take dancing lessons. It wasn't ballet he was talking about and I soon found myself skilled in the art of pole dancing and striping. After the two day crash course, I was sent to a strip club with a fake id and started taking my clothes off for large crowds of men, all yelling obscenities at me and trying to grab various parts of my body. Javon made it perfectly clear that if anyone wanted a private dance, I was available. One hundred percent of the money I made went to Javon and like the greedy son of a bitch he was, always wanted more. That greed is what lead to his downfall and my survival. He had conditioned me to respond to his every command and perform like a trained circus animal every time he wanted me to. If I fucked thirty guys in the club on Friday, he wanted me do fuck more on Saturday, which I always seemed to do. Except that one faithful night where I failed to meet his quota. At three-thirty in the morning we were in the Escalade with him yelling and berating me as usual about not performing the right way. Not trying hard enough and making him "lose" a few hundred dollars. I'd make it up to him that was for sure. He promised me I would. He was so concerned about yelling at me that he wasn't watching where he was going and the next thing I knew, he rear-ended a car. It wasn't just any car as I quickly noticed. It was a police car and I had mixed reactions about it. "You see what you made me do!" he yelled raising his hand to hit me. I cowered against the door ready to feel the blow at any moment. It never came. He waited while the two officers approached the SUV from different directions, their hands on their gun belts. I held my breath, not sure what would happen to me. I had always been afraid of the cops and knew that I'd be arrested for being a prostitute. When my teary eyes focused on the officer closest to me I felt instant relief, almost as if a great weight had been removed from my shoulders. It was Chris! Even though he abused me and helped steal my childhood, he was my savior and would rescue me from Javon. It had been a few years since I last saw him and when he noticed me, he had to do a double take as I had changed so much. "How's Chelsea?" I asked as he opened the passenger side door. He smiled, helping me step down. They arrested Javon but only on an outstanding warrant and ticketed him for a few violations concerning the accident, but the most important thing was that I got away from him. Over a year and a half of living with him degraded me to a level that there was hardly anything left of the old me. I found out my mother moved away shortly after I "ran away" and Butch got married last year. Chris was divorced and ironically was living with Chelsea and she was pregnant with their second child. I had a lot of catching up to do and wanted to make a clean start, but I didn't have a place to live. I had no friends, no money and no skills other than what I had been doing for the past few years. I was thrilled when he offered for me to go live with them. I knew what he had in mind but considering the hell that I'd been through with Javon, that was a very small price to pay. I gladly accepted and rode in the backseat of the squad car as they took me to my new home. Looking out the window at the few street whores still working the strip I smiled. It will be good to see Chelsea again. ~~~ The end Let me know your thoughts... wetfly6969@aol.com