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

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

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

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

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

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

"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

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

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

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

"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

"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

"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

"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

"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

"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

"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,

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

"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

"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

"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

"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

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

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

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

"Penny," he told me, "show my friends how good you can suck
dick," he added grabbing his crotch.  My eyes widened at the

"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

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

"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