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From: nobody@REPLAY.COM (Anonymous)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Junebug's "The Ravished Wife" (i/r, rape, preg)
Date: 16 Nov 1996 07:29:38 +0100
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Standard disclaimer:  This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to
persons living or dead is purely coincidental.  This story is intended for
the use and enjoyment of ONLY those persons 18 years of age or older.  IF
YOU ARE NOT 18 YEARS OLD, OR OLDER, STOP READING THIS NOW.  The author is
NOT responsible for the reading of this story by anyone under the age of
eighteen, nor does the author assume any responsibility for any actions
performed by persons who read this story.  In plain English -it's not my
fault if you can't tell the difference between fantasy (which is what this
story is) and reality (which is what this story is not). 
                           The Ravished Wife
                                 By
                                "Ted"

  It makes me sick to my stomach when I read the stories on this newsgroup.
The rapist takes his victim, and she becomes a sex-crazed whore as a result.
Her husband, if she has one, enjoys his wife's new activities, and
encourages them.  My wife was brutally raped, right in front of me, and that
certainly didn't happen to her.
  Ellen was a good woman, and an excellent wife.  I considered myself lucky
to have found her.  She was just twenty-two when we met at our church group.
She was the cutest little thing I'd ever seen, just 5'3" tall, about 100
pounds, with long, bright red hair, green eyes, and creamy skin.  Unlike
many redheads,
she didn't have a single freckle on her.   She was the sweetest woman I had
ever met too, kind, always concerned about others, and a very good
christian, like myself.  She came from a good family, as did I.  We were
married a year to the day after we met, and were very happy together - until
it happened.
  It was just after our first anniversary.  I'd had to be in Europe on
business for over three weeks, and couldn't be there on the actual date of
our anniversary.  Ellen understood, but I'd felt bad, so to make it up to
her, I'd arranged for a great anniversary present - a weekend in Miami.  She
would fly down there on Thursday from our suburban Connecticut home,  I
would fly there straight from London and she would pick me up at the
airport.  I was feeling great as I stepped off the plane; I'd managed to
grab a couple hours sleep and was looking forward to a night of romance with
my lovely wife.  After all, I hadn't seen her in almost a month!
  Ellen looked beautiful - she was wearing a white slip-dress that showed
off her petite figure to perfection.  She kissed me longingly, and smiled up
at me.  "Oh Ted, I'm so glad you're back!", she said sweetly.  "I'm glad to
be back, darling"  I said, holding her close.  "I've got a surprise for
you", and then I handed her my anniversary gift.  She opened it right there
in the airport lounge, and squealed with delight as she beheld the diamond
tennis bracelet I'd gotten her.  "Oh Ted, it's gorgeous!" , she said.  "But
you'll have to wait until we get back to the hotel for your present", she
finished with a wink.  "Well, let's get going then!", I told her, and we
hurried off.  We got into the taxi Ellen had waiting, and headed to the
hotel.  Ellen babbled over and over again about the bracelet, holding it up
to admire it, and telling me all about the beautiful honeymoon suite she'd
booked.  I noticed the cab driver - a rather large black man, who'd
introduced himself as "Justus" - looking at her in the rear-view mirror, but
didn't think too much about it. 
Lots of men stared at my beautiful wife.  We got to the hotel, and checked
in.  Ellen was right, the suite was gorgeous.  We quickly unpacked, and then
I told her I was going to take a shower.  She gave me a look full of
promise, and said she'd order us some champagne.  While I was shaving in the
shower, I heard a knock at the door.  There was the champagne!  I finished
up, dried off in a hurry, threw on the robe the hotel provided, and went out
into the bedroom.  I couldn't believe my eyes.
  Ellen was standing in the middle of the room, and standing next to her, a
gun in his hand, was our cab driver.   He was a very large man, around six
foot two, I'd say, and weighed around three hundred pounds.  He wore stained
chinos, and a white shirt, open almost to he waist.  His huge stomach
slopped over his belt, and he smelled strongly of sweat and hair tonic.
"Siddown", he muttered to me, gesturing towards the armchair which was
pulled right up by the bed.  I did what I was told.  He quickly tied me up,
and slapped a strip of duct tape over my mouth.  I looked helplessly at
Ellen as he told her to take off her bracelet and give it to him.  She did,
and he threw it onto the bedside table, where my wallet and Ellen's purse
were.  "That's all we have", Ellen pleaded, in her sweet voice.  "Please
don't hurt us - we understand that society made you the way you are!   Just
don't hurt us - we'll pray for you!".  The huge black began to laugh, his
stomach jiggling as he did.  "Yeah, dat's right bitch. You pray fo' Justus.
I woan hurt you.  I's gonna make you scream fo' gawd!", he said, and then
pushed her down onto the bed.
  Ellen started to scream, but the black was on top of her too quickly.  He
slapped one huge black hand over her mouth, and with the other, ripped her
white dress clean off her.  She wasn't wearing a bra, just pink lace panties
- my favorites.  He tore them off, and stuffed them in her mouth.  Then he
used what was left of her dress to tie her arms to the bedposts, and took
off his own shirt.
"Hmmm, you sho' gots a purty body fer a white gal",  he drooled, raking his
eyes lustfully over her naked body.  Then, to my horror, he began to kiss my
wife all over, her face and body.  I struggled in vain to free myself as he
began sucking on her breasts, pawing her all over.  He fondled her for a
good five minutes, while I sat there helplessly.  Then, he sat up.  To my
horror, I saw the enormous bulge in his chinos.  He looked over at me,
grinned, and began to unfasten his pants.  He wasn't wearing any underwear,
so his huge prick popped right out, fat,  swollen, and rigid.  Ellen stared,
and I could hear her muffled screams as she realized that this huge black
man was going to rape her.  Justus looked over at me, and grinned, showing
the gaps where his teeth were missing.
"You gots a purty woman heyah", he drawled, and flicked on of her nipples.
"Fine white bitch.  I's been wantin me some white pussy fo' a while now.
Dis heyah bitch wuz showin' off dis lil' white body de whole ride to de
aihpoht, and I knows she wuz just achin' to get a real man in her.   Kin
tell by dat dress she wuz wearin'.  Right, bitch?", he said to Ellen, who
just whipped her head back and forth, no!  Justus laughed again, and with
one massive knee, pried her legs apart, and got between her thighs.  "I's
gonna fuck you bitch, you's gonna have  ole Justus in you.    I's gonna
gives you a taste of some fine black cock, just whut every white woman need.
Yo' man beddah be watchin' de whole time.  Iffen I turn mah haid and see he
got his eyes close',  I'll shoot yo' ass.  Got dat, honky man?", he said to
me.  I nodded.  I couldn't let him kill Ellen!  "Get ready, bitch", he
bellowed.  "I's gonna give you a fuckin' !", and with that he mounted my
sweet wife, and thrust into her.  I can still hear her muffled screams of
pain and terror as the massive black man plowed right into her.  I could
only sit there in horror and watch while my wife's delicate white body was
bounced up and down by the force of the black man's thrusts, and listen while
Justus groaned with pleasure as he raped my wife.
"Oh, dat's good.  Nice an' tight, de way I likes it.  Oh yeah, bitch - you
sho' gettin fucked good! Mmmm, nice white pussy - ain' nuthin like it.  Man,
dis pussy be singin' to me",  he moaned as his hips pumped fiercely.  I had
to sit there, and watch as this huge black buck raped my beloved wife, sit
there and watch the sweat bead up on his massive black back and arms, sit
there and listen to the sounds of sex and muffled screams of my wife as the
black forced himself in and out of her.  Every now and again, he'd turn his
head to see if I was watching.  I'll never forget how his face looked, slick
with sweat, his eyes glazed, and a look of intense pleasure on his face from
raping my wife.
"Oh yeah ... dat's it, bitch, Justus' be fuckin' you ... ain' never had it
so good, huh bitch ... you's Justus' woman now, doan be fergittin' dat ...
oooooooooooh, mama, nice hot pussy you got heyah ... oh ... ohhh yeahhh ...
heyah it comes bitch!"  With a final massive thrust that drove Ellen's head
into the headboard, the black shuddered and moaned in climax.  Then he fell
on top of her, sweaty and twitching.  I sat there with tears in my eyes.
Poor Ellen - a woman who had done only good in her life - had been viciously
raped by a huge black man, and I had had to watch it all.  Eventually,
Justus got off of her, zipped up his pants, put his shirt on, collected our
money and the bracelet, and left.
  We weren't found till the next moring, when the maid came.  Ellen was
taken to the hospital, and we filed a police report.  I assured my lovely
wife that I still loved her, and it wasn't her fault, but the trauma she had
suffered was too much for her to believe that right away.  The day  before
we left to go back to Connecticut, the police arrested Justus, and Ellen and
I both identified him.  The trial wouldn't be for months, so we went home as
scheduled, and tried to pick up our lives.  The rape was still with us
though.  Ellen had been badly bruised in the brutal attack, so sex was out
for a while - even if she had wanted to make love, she couldn't.  We both
got into counseling right away, and I was convinced that we could put this
behind us and go on.
  It wasn't to be.    Four weeks after the rape we learned that Ellen was
pregnant.  We knew there was no way it could be mine.  We hadn't made love
in seven weeks, not since the night before I'd left for Europe. Ellen was
pregnant with Justus' baby.  Because of our religious beliefs, abortion was
out of the question.   It was hard, but we decided that she would carry her
rapist's baby to term, and then give it up for adoption. 
We tried to look at the bright side.  It would be conclusive proof that she
had been raped, and Justus would
go to prison where he belonged.
  The next few months were terribly difficult for me.  It was hard for me to
watch as my wife's lovely body became bloated, her belly swelling hugely
with her rapist's baby.  Every time I looked at her bulging tummy I was
reminded of the night the huge black rapist had impregnated her, reminded
that she was
pregnant with another man's child, against her will.  It also hurt because
we had planned to start our own family this year.  Now, instead of joyfully
expecting our first baby, Ellen was being forced to carry her rapist's baby.
It was also difficult to explain to our families and friends that we
wouldn't be keeping this baby, and why.  I may have been overly sensitive,
but I thought I could see the contempt on my friends faces as they looked at
my wife.  I wasn't a real man.  A real man would have stopped the rapist,
instead of sitting back and watching while he raped and impregnated her.  I
may have been imagining it, I don't know.  Our marriage was naturally
suffering.  We hadn't had sex since the rape.  Ellen was too beat up at
first, and then the shame of carrying another man's child did it's work.
But we struggled on.  Surely, after the trial, after the baby was born and
given up, we could get back to normal.
  The trial was held when Ellen was seven months pregnant.   We flew down to
Miami, and testified.  Once our testimony had been given, we were allowed to
sit in the courtroom, and watch.  There was plenty of scientific evidence.
They had Justus' fingerprints from all over the hotel room, the semen sample
they'd taken from Ellen at the hospital - all of it ponted towards Justus.
He sat there, unconcerned, wearing a cheap blue suit that was too small for
him, reeking of aftershave, twiddling his thumbs.  The only time I saw him
looking any way but bored was when the testimony about the baby was given.
When he heard the state's witness say that the DNA results from the
amniocentesis test Ellen had taken proved conclusively that Justus was the
father of her baby, he turned around, stared at her swollen belly, and
leered at her.  I was disgusted, but sure that justice would prevail.  I
couldn't read the jury though - they were all black, mostly older women,
nice, grandmotherly types.  They sat there, expressions never changing.
  The jury was out for just an hour.  As we filed back in the courtroom to
hear the guilty verdict, Ellen whispered to me, "They must really hate him
if they found him guilty so quickly!"  I smiled at her.  It still hurt to
look at her, pregnant with a black rapist's baby.  She was very big by then,
her swollen stomach jutting out from her maternity top, her lovely face
awash with that glow pregnant women have - all from a terrible night of
rape.  I held her hand, while the jury came in, and we waited expectantly to
see Justus get what he deserved.  I'll never forget how I felt when I heard
the forewoman declare that Justus wasn't guilty.  Sick, horrified.  This
animal had raped my wife, made her pregnant with his child, and now he was
going to walk free.  Because he was a "nice, black boy", as some of the
jurors claimed, who had obviously been tempted by a white Jezebel!
  We went back to our hotel room and sat in stunned silence the whole night.
We were in too much shock to even cry.  Our lives had been ruined, and now
the bastard who had done this to us was a free man.  But things got worse
the next day.  Ellen was served with papers.  Justus wanted to exercise his
parental rights to their child.   We tried to fight it.  The adoption agency
told us we couldn't do anything until Justus signed away his paternal rights
to his child, which he refused to do.  Justus got a court order forcing
Ellen to stay in Florida until she gave birth to his child.  Some black
rights organization was funding his legal fight for him, making sure that "a
black child would know his father".  I had no rights.  Normally the mother's
husband is automatically the legal father of her child.  But I had signed
away my rights in preparation for the adoption, just before the trial,
leaving Ellen open to further violation by Justus. 
 We had to move to Florida temporarily, me taking a leave of absence from my
job to be with her - no way I was going to leave her alone in the same state
as that monster - and we tried to get Justus' parental rights revoked.  We
weren't successful.  The judge ruled that Justus was the legal father of
Ellen's baby, and as such he had every right to exercise his parental
rights.  He further ruled that Ellen, by then eight months pregnant, not
only would have to stay in Florida till their child was born, but would now
have to live there permanently so Justus could see his child every weekend.
Adding insult to injury, the judge also ruled that Justus be allowed to go
to Ellen's doctor's  appointments with her, and that the baby must have it's
father's last name, Jenkins.  We filed an immediate appeal, but the original
orders would stand while the appeal was being considered.
  The day after, Ellen was scheduled to go to her doctor.  I went with her,
and Justus met us there.  He grinned evilly when he saw us, and immediately
reached out to pat Ellen's protruding belly.  "Well, bitch, I's gots to say,
I wuz just hopin' to git me sum cash and a fine piece of ass.  Diddin'
figger on getting me a fine black son in de bargain".  Ellen cringed, and
held my arm tightly, silently warning me not to make things worse by getting
into a confrontation with him.  "We don't know what sex the child is yet",
she told him icily.  He paid no attention. "Oh, I knows it be a boy.  I gots
me six more, and dey all boys.  Dis one be de same.  Yep, gonna have me
anodder fine black boy.  Ole Justus, when he do a thing, he do it right.  I
nebber shoot no blanks.  You wuz a fine piece o' ass.  Fittin thing I got
you wid' mah baby".  I hated him even more, as he laughed, his fat, ugly
black face leering at my wife's swollen belly.  "Yep, sho' is a fine thing.
I wuz hopin dat I done laid a lil' black baby in dat belly of yo's".  
  Somehow we managed to get through the next few weeks.  We hoped and hoped
that the appeal would go through, and we could end this nightmare.  It
didn't happen.  The day after our final appeal was denied, Ellen went into
labor, and nine months to the day she was raped, she gave birth to Justus'
son.  Justus was there with her as she delivered.  I wasn't allowed in -
Justus saw to that.  He certainly was a proud papa, as he staggered through
the halls, stinking drunk, boasting about his son who was "big as his daddy,
an'  black as de night".  He didn't even care that Ellen had begun to
hemorraghe as a result of delivering his big black son, and had to have an
emergency hysterectomy.  Now we would never have a child together.
  She kept the baby.  The alternative would have been letting his father
have full custody of him.  I think Ellen also got attached to her child,
even though she'd been forced to give birth to him. After all, she knew now
that this was the only child she would ever have.  Two days after her son
was born, Ellen sat me down for a talk.  It was a terrible thing, she said,
that she'd been impregnated by a rapist.  But it had happened, and now she
had a son with this man, and it was obviously the Lord's will.  She was just
as much his mother, as Justus was his father, and responsible for her baby.
Justus had his six other sons, and could never afford to care for the baby
properly, even if he'd been stable enough.  But he was a drunk, mostly out
of work, cabbie, and she had to make sure her son was cared for.  So, she
had decided to keep him, rather than surrender him to his father.  She said
she hoped I'd understand.   What could I do?  I'd loved her, and had agreed
to be with her for better and worse.  This was obviously the worse.  I had
no love for her and Justus' son, but I wasn't a monster.  I couldn't let
this innocent baby be raised by the man who had sired him through rape.
And I couldn't insist that she give away her only child.  So I told Ellen
that I would support her decision.  She wept, and thanked me, and then hit
me with an even bigger bombshell.  Justus wanted his son to be named after
him.  He was willing to go to court to make it happen, and he had all the
backing he needed from that black organization that insured he got rights to
the baby he'd raped into my wife.  So she had agreed, rather than waste more
time in court.  The birth certificate had been filled out just before I came
in, and the baby was officially Justus Jenkins Jr.
  This was two years ago.  Ellen and I are still married, though things
aren't going well.  She's too wrapped up in being a mother to Justus Jr. to
pay much attention to me.  We make love, but very infrequently, and it's not
the same as it was before.  It's hard, being the stepfather of a black
child.  We thought about telling the boy we'd adopted him, so we wouldn't
have to explain to him, and everyone else that he was the product of Ellen
and the black who had raped her.  I even offered to adopt him myself, saving
Justus Sr. child support (which he pays just enough of, just often enough to
retain the right to see their son every weekend).  Justus Sr. said no,
telling us "Ain' no way.  I's dat boys natcherel born papa, and  he need me
so's he kin grow up proud of being black like his daddy.  He's gonna know
dat I's his papa an dat I got him on dis bitch heyah".  As a result
everyone, from our neighbors to my coworkers know that Ellen has a son by a
black man, and that I'm just his stepfather.  I'm still not close to Justus
Jr., and I know that grieves Ellen.  She just adores her son, who looks
exactly like his father, big and very black.   Justus comes by every weekend
to spend time with his son, who calls him "daddy".  I'm just "Ted".  Ellen
encourages Justus Sr. to come by during the week as well, which he often
does.  She thinks that he has every right to know their son, and that their
son needs to be with his father.  We've even got a picture of Justus Sr. in
the living room.  I don't know where this marriage will go.  I want to make
it work, but  it's hard.  Maybe if we could have children together things
would be better.  But all I can do is stand on the sidelines, watching
Justus as he leers at my wife and plays daddy to their son.
--Junebug. Well? Did you like it?  Post a message and tell me :)