("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
               K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
	      _________________________________________
		             WARNING!
	      This text file contains sexually explicit
	      material. If you do not wish to read this
	      type of literature, or you are under age,
	      PLEASE CLOSE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
	      _________________________________________



     	             Scroll down to view text














--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2004.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Perfect Victim
By Anonymous (address withheld)

***

My first experience with sex was to be raped by my prom 
date. (MF, teens, nc, rp, v, 1st)

***

I’ve read a lot of non-consensual stories on the 
Archive, and like many women, I have a story of my own.

My father was overprotective. He’s a cop and I’ve heard 
about the terrible things he’s seen all my life. It 
never resonated though because I was always chaffing at 
the constraints he put on me. 

He was a street cop when I was a kid and became a 
detective when I was thirteen. As far back as I can 
remember, he watched me like a hawk. He controlled what 
I wore, what I bought, where I went, and who I went 
with.

By High School, I had few friends because everyone 
around me suffered through his rules and observation as 
well. My week consisted of going to school and doing 
homework before my chores. Saturdays and Sunday’s, when 
he wasn’t working, were "family days," where we did 
whatever my father wanted.

My mother was cowed by his presence and spent most of 
her time making sure that we followed the rules. She 
was my father’s eyes and ears when he wasn’t home.

By fifteen, I had begun to steal time away to try some 
of the things I heard other kids talking about. It 
became a game; a very dangerous game to see if I could 
sneak a cigarette or sneak out at night when my father 
was on the 0-4 shift. Sometimes I was successful, but 
most of the time something went wrong and I would be 
grounded to my room or removed from some of my school 
activities as punishment.

Near the end of the year I met Chuck. Chuck was a 
senior, seventeen or eighteen, and had few friends in 
the school. He lurked around the girl’s locker room and 
made lewd comments as we went in or out the door. He 
was a big guy, maybe 6’1" tall and 220 lbs. I heard 
other girls talking about him as being creepy and it 
was rumored that he had been suspended for a week for 
grabbing some girl’s butt.

I never had any bad experiences with him though. So, 
when he asked me to the Prom, I was flattered. No-one 
had ever asked me out before and I knew I would never 
be allowed to go. I told him no and thanked him for 
asking.

However, that afternoon, I went out to get a cigarette 
behind the Utility building and saw my father’s partner 
beside his car. Ten minutes later, my father had hauled 
me into the Principal’s office and reamed both of us 
out. I was angry that my father had enlisted his 
partner to keep an eye on me. I cried for an hour 
before returning to class.

By the end of the day, I was set to run away from home; 
then I saw Chuck sitting against his truck, just 
staring at me. It made me feel wanted and important. I 
walked up to him and asked if his offer to take me to 
the prom was still open. He seemed thrilled and started 
making plans for picking me up in a limo.

I stopped him and told him that my father would never 
let me out like that and that we would meet behind the 
school on prom night.

I had saved up a fair amount of money over the years, 
my father being a stickler about saving. I took out 
$300 and bought a dress. I looked really good. I had a 
pretty average body, but the sales-lady was very 
helpful (after I told her that my mother had died when 
I was young and that my father didn’t know about such 
things).

She picked out a low cut, medium length black dress 
with silver threads throughout the fabric. It had 
spaghetti straps and the back dropped pretty far. With 
the hose and high heels, I looked great. On my way out 
of the mall, I stopped into Victoria’s Secret and 
bought a pair of frilly French-cut panties in case I 
decided to go without the hose.

Over the next two weeks, I refined the story that I had 
met a girl at school who had invited me to a sleepover. 
I created an elaborate lie about her being from a 
family of missionaries and that we were going to hand-
make dolls for Guatemalan mission children.

Two days before the prom, my father announced that he 
had to go to New York to give a deposition and would be 
gone for five days. I could barely control my 
excitement. We assured him that we would obey the rules 
and our mother. When I got up for school the next day I 
was thrilled to see that only mom was in their bed.

On Saturday afternoon, I packed an overnight bag with 
my prom things and took my sleeping-bag downstairs. My 
sympathetic cousin, Sally, had agreed to pick me up and 
drive me to school. She was seventeen and my mother 
trusted her completely. Sally hated my father.

I changed at Sally’s house and noted with pride her 
expression when she saw me in the dress. I decided to 
wear the panties instead of hose as a final act of 
defiance. Sally sat me down and talked to me about boys 
and expectations and all kinds of other stuff. I barely 
paid attention. 

She dropped me off in front of the school and I walked 
up to a group of girls who were waiting for their rides 
as though they were my friends. As soon as she was 
around the corner, I changed directions and went around 
the back of the school to wait for Chuck.

It was getting dark and I was getting cold. He was ten 
minutes late.

He had cleaned up the truck and was wearing a rented 
tuxedo that didn’t fit him well. He couldn’t keep his 
eyes off of me.

We drove to his "friend’s house" for the pre-prom 
party. There were about a dozen couples there. After 
about an hour, I asked Chuck where the bathroom was and 
he showed me to the master bedroom to freshen up. I 
though he had gone downstairs and was surprised to see 
him sitting on the bed without his shirt when I came 
out.

Chuck told me that I looked great. I headed for the 
door with a quick "thank you." He was too quick though 
and grabbed my arm before my hand reached the knob. He 
pulled me into his arms and began to kiss me. I tried 
to push him away, but he picked me up and carried me to 
the bed. I was crushed beneath him.

My shoes fell off my feet and hit the hardwood with a 
double-tap.

Chuck had his hands all over me as I struggled to get 
out from under him. My voice sounded faint and distant 
as I kept saying "No" and "I’ve never."

He pulled up my dress with his left hand and was 
rubbing his hand all over my thigh. I kept struggling 
as he pushed himself between my legs. I could feel his 
penis pushing against me through the fabric. 

All of a sudden, he raised himself up on his knees and 
slapped me across the face. He called me a "cunt" and a 
"tease." I was crying and he just kept yelling for me 
to shut up.

He slapped me several more times and then placed his 
hand over my mouth and nose.

I couldn’t breathe.

Then he said "this is going to happen no matter what 
you do. I don’t care if you like it or not, but one 
more sound and I will get a chain of guys up here 
before I kill you." As he said the last phrase, he used 
his thumb and finger to close my nose. 

I was in a panic and was pushing against him, but he 
was much too strong. I began to lose consciousness and 
realized that he COULD kill me. I went limp.

He took his hand off of my face and knelt over me 
triumphantly. While I struggled for breath, he tore the 
spaghetti straps off of my dress and pulled it down off 
of my breasts. I just lay there hoping that it would 
soon be over. I kept wishing, hoping that my father 
would burst through the door and rescue me.

He bunched my dress up at my waist and tore the sides 
out of my panties.

Then, standing up on the bed, he pulled me into a 
kneeling position by my hair and, with his left hand, 
undid his pants. I tried to keep my mouth closed, but 
he hit me and, when I cried out, he shoved his semi-
hard penis in my mouth.

I remember the feeling as it grew in my mouth. He was 
using my hair to fuck my mouth. My lips barely seemed 
to fit around it.

Abruptly, he pushed me off of his penis and onto my 
back on the bed.

Grabbing the remnants of my dress, he pulled if off of 
my body before lowing himself onto my, now, naked form.

He held me down to the bed with one hand on my neck. I 
could barely breathe and had both hands on his wrist.

With the other hand, he guided himself into my vagina. 
I was dry and he cursed as he forced himself into me. 
He pushed in a little and pulled back out, again and 
again. Each time, he was a little deeper into me. When 
he reached my maidenhead, he pulled back and plunged 
through it.

I cried out as he raped me. The sharp pain of being 
deflowered was replaced with the dull pain of his 
ramming himself into me without any lubrication. His 
tempo sped up as he got closer to climaxing and then, 
with a deep, guttural moan, he emptied himself into me. 

He lay there for a moment, then pulled himself out and 
cleaned the blood and semen off of his penis with my 
dress.

I was curled up in the fetal position when he left.

A little while later, I woke up to find several sets of 
hands on me. I didn’t even cry out as several boys 
shifted my body around on the bed so that my legs were 
over the side.

Someone held my shoulders down while, one by one, they 
raped me. I don’t know how many times. I think it was 
seven boys and about eleven times.

The last person was Chuck. He pulled me off of the bed 
and into a kneeling position by my hair. Then he shoved 
his penis into my mouth. When he was hard again, he 
forced me down on the bed face first with my ass 
hanging off of the bed.

H rammed himself into me with abandon and held my hair 
in one hand like a halter. I was numb and could no 
longer feel anything when he came.

After raping me one last time, he leaned in close to me 
ear and told me that I could never tell anyone or the 
videotape would find its way to the internet. Then, 
with high-fives and laughter, they all left. I just lay 
there.

The clock read 4:00 AM when I awoke. I took a shower 
and found a jumpsuit. The house was deserted. (I read 
in the paper the next day that it had been broken into 
and vandalized. My father investigated the crime but it 
has never been solved.)

I never told my family or the authorities.

I avoided Sally for several weeks and endured Chuck’s 
lewd laughter whenever he saw me for the rest of the 
year.

Since then, I have curiously found that nothing turns 
me on more than stories of rape, even though any kind 
of force with my lovers causes a panic attack. Chuck 
eventually went to jail as a pedophile, but not before 
I secured a copy of my rape from the internet.

Occasionally, I turn on the computer and watch it with 
the mixed feelings of arousal and sadness. I wonder how 
different things might have been.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 32