("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `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 DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2011. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Hate by diamond (diamond33@mail.com) *** A story about rape and the single girl. (MF, rp) *** This story is based on truth. Basically it is being written because of all those "Rape" stories out there. This story has been written with the help of 25 women who all were raped. These are not women who are afraid of men now, they are not "frigid", they are not even particularly bitter. They are women who had something happen to them in their lives. It made them who they are today. This work isn't a highlight in their lives, but they have decided not to turn their backs to it. They have decided to embrace it and hopefully teach others about rape. They teach women how not to confuse rape with regret. They teach men that rape is rape. As always, this is rather a mature subject matter and should not be read by those under 21 or 18 in their respectable jurisdiction. (Although if a 16 year old boy reads this and thinks before he acts than I won't complain.) This is my work. It is based on factual events, which have been used with permission. I will have no problem with this story being published at any site within reason. What does that mean? Stick my name on it, credit the unnamed women, and tell me that you are doing it. If I come across it on a site that is using it as a stroke story, I will ask that you remove it. It is NOT a stroke story. That said... Hate "As far as I'm concerned you can string him up by his balls and lash him with barbed wire." "Jackie, is that really a healthy thought?" "Fuck yes, it makes me feel damn good to think of him like that." "Jackie, I'm sensing a lot of anger in you. Let's work on that." "Fuck no. I am angry. I'm fucking angry and I happen to like myself this way." "Jackie, anger isn't good." "Fuck you." *** Five women sit around a table scattered with two empty bottles of Murphy Goode sauvignon blanc and another bottle looking to join its brethren. A waiter looks over to them periodically to see if they have looked at their menus yet, but this group appears to be having a liquid lunch. The wine numbs them. They don't taste each glass they drink, they don't even enjoy it, what they do revel in is the lack of thoughts the wine allows them. Laura waves to the waiter and mouths "check please". She finishes her glass and pours herself yet another one and then tops off the glasses to either side before letting the bottle join the other empties. The women haven't spoken to one another since sitting down. They have been drinking in silence together for the past hour, but the time for being silent has ended. At least for the next 2 hours. *** They sit on cheap folding chairs. Jackie is staring out the window looking at the brick building across the street. She is jarred by a voice that brings her back to the group. "Did you really tell your shrink to fuck off?" Sarah asks her with awe. "Hmmm?" Jackie looks around the group seeking the questioner. She looks Sarah in the eyes. "Yeah. I figured I was paying her and she should be telling me what I want to hear, at least for the first few times." "Isn't it remarkable how they all pin down your anger?" Nobody answers Laura's question. It's one that doesn't need to be. Marie lights up a cigarette and takes a long drag. She holds it between her thumb and forefinger, staring at the ember. "I have fantasies. I find him, and place the cherry on his dick. I listen to him scream and beg and then I burn his nipples. I am about to shove it in his ass when the police come and drag me away. They call me a sick bitch and just laugh when I tell them he raped me and then did the same to me." "I was babysitting for a family friend. She came home early and we had some wine. Teri told me that she was raped in college." Laura smiles at Jackie, "There are lots of us out there. We just don't all admit to it unless there are others like us around." Chris looks around the group. She looks at the faces. She sees eyes that are red with the lack of sleep. Lips that are drawn and taught. All of these women take one day off a month for this. Some are mothers, some work. All lead normal lives. If any of their friends knew that they were victims of rape, they wouldn't believe it. Victims of rape aren't you neighbor, or boss. They aren't the ones who get on with their lives. The hate men and lock themselves up in their own worlds. "I read in some book, somewhere, that we should write down what happened to us. We should write it down then burn it." "I don't want to burn it. I'll write it, but I won't burn it. It doesn't just go away." Jackie reaches over and steals a cigarette from Marie. Marie looks at Jackie, "I won't burn mine either." She looks at the others and smirks, "I'll just take my cigarette to strategic parts." The others snicker. No one says so, but it's time to leave. They put on their coats and smile at one another before walking out the door. They won't see one another for another month. No one voices their fear, but they are all thinking the same thing. Is a month enough time to write down everything? *** Amy was in the room with her boyfriend. No one wants to sleep in the same room, hearing all the cute crap they say to one another, and no one wants to hear the noises that are sure to follow. Jackie makes her way up to the third floor of the dorm and knocks on Tara's door. Jan, Tara's roommate is at her boyfriend's and there is a spare bed in the room. Tara answered the door in a nightshirt and black velvet sleep mask pulled up over her forehead. "Amy and Jake are at it again?" Jackie nodded her head and moved into the room. The girls talked for a bit about the night. They had gone to a local bar for Halloween and had dressed up. Jackie had gone as a devil, but was too shy to wear the costume on its own, so she had worn a cape to cover it. She was also the designated driver. She had not had anything to drink the entire night, but for a few cokes. Tara had a few drinks, but wasn't a big drinker and ended up drinking cokes with Julie. They spent an hour or so, talking about the others and how drunk they were. "I guess wearing a costume gives you the chance to let loose." "And make an ass of yourself too," Jackie added. They were drifting off to sleep when the phone rang. Tara picked it up. After the phone call she woke Jackie up enough to tell her that Jan had an argument with her boyfriend and she needed to go and comfort her. The last thing Jackie remembered is Tara asking her if she should lock the door on her way out. Jackie told her not to worry about it. Jackie woke up suddenly. She couldn't lift her chest to fill her lungs. There was a weight on top. She opened her eyes and looked into the face of her friend. Scott had been a friend of hers since school started. They hung out together. Jackie had helped Scott in some of his science classes, and Scott had helped Jackie in her film class. "Scott, what's wrong?" She was cut off by his hand over her mouth. "Make a noise and I will hurt you." He lifted her hands over her head and pinned them there with one hand. His other hand ripped her tee shirt away and tore her panties off. Jackie closed her eyes. For eight years, she would erase the next events from her memory. Certain clues would remind her of things, like smells or images, but for several years, she chose not to remember. Perhaps her subconscious knew that she didn't need to remember right away. For a long time, her next memory was of Tara finding her in the shower. Jackie was curled up in a ball in the corner. The next memory that came was of the door closing and Scott's hand on the knob. That memory existed for a few years. She liked it that way. She wasn't ready and her mind realized that. Two years ago, she started a relationship with a wonderful man. He had a past that would make Scrooge cry. Abusive custodians and an abusive system wrecked havoc on this man, but he survived. His survival made Jackie realize she too could move forward. It was then that her memory filled in. The spaces that were previously vacant were now complete. Scott bit her breasts until they were a bloody pulp. He slapped her several times for not responding to him in an acceptable manner. Scott was past the point of having fun with her, he wanted what he came for. Cruelly he slapped her labia and pinched at her clitoris. She lay there, looking out the window. She doesn't know what she focused on that night, and it doesn't matter now. She didn't feel the tears run down her cheeks. Scott stabbed his fingers into her vagina, it was a forceful assault, but it ended as soon as it began. She slapped her again, and placed his teeth around her left nipple. He bit down hard as he forced himself into her. Jackie still stared out the window, she felt nothing, she was numb. The numbness would last for years. He ejaculated inside of her almost as soon as he entered her. For that, her right nipple was bit until blood was drawn and her eyes were blackened. Scott wiped his penis on her face, leaving a trail of blood and semen along her cheek. He dressed and then walked over to the bed. He looked down at her and spit on her face. Saliva dripped from her nose, lips and chin before melting with the blood and semen mixture. Jackie didn't know how long he was there. It could have been a few minutes or it could have been several. It didn't matter. He did what he had come to do. She lay in bed for a while longer, staring at the door he had just walked through. Time passed and she ignored it. Jackie slowly stood up and walked to the bathroom. Her shirt was still around her arms, but the panties were in the bed. She went to the shower and turned it on as hot as possible. Long since her skin had been scalded and the water had turned cold, she was curled up in ball in the corner. A full shampoo bottle was empty and a bar of soap had been washed down to a sliver. Her skin was red and raw, but the evidence of the brutal assault still marked her body. Tara found her and wrapped her in a towel and bathrobe. She brought Jackie to her room where she put her in her own bed. Next, Tara quickly stripped the bed. The sheets were in a tight ball, but blood and semen stains were visible. She made some tea, spiked it with brandy, and then forced it down Jackie's throat. Jackie heaved and vomited into a garbage pail, but finally managed to keep two cups down. Tara called the police and then school safety. The police were understanding, but could do nothing, unless she wanted to press charges on assault. Rape was hard enough to prove when the victim didn't take a shower and didn't know the assailant. The school safety was another story. They didn't want her to press charges, in fact they wanted her to do nothing. The police filed a report for the records, but it would only be useful if he did it again. They forced the school to keep a copy in their files as well. The report will stay with the police indefinitely, but will only be helpful if Scott rapes another woman in the same town. As for School Safety, well they can destroy their files the next day. It is on record that the police gave the file to the school, but unless there is a lawsuit, it won't matter much. Jackie's life ended at that point. She dropped out of school, went from job to job, and abusive relationship to abusive relationship. *** It is almost 9 years later, and she is just beginning to get her life back in order. She has wondered if she can sue him for stealing her life away. END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 70