The Rape of Debbie Cook
Debbie Cook wasn't bad to look at. She was always very stylish. She dressed well, carried herself gracefully, had a pretty face and beautiful long red hair. Okay, you look at her and think that she's one you'd really like to fuck. Well, I did fuck Debbie and I can tell you that it's not as great as you might imagine, at least that is, if you're basing your expectations on looks alone.
First, she's one of those women who disappoints a bit just by undressing. Her tits are floppy, her tummy is a bit rotund, and her only saving grace, in a visual sense, are her big hips and ass, if you like big hips and ass, that is. You hope that she's going to have a nice tight, juicy cunt, but she disappoints again. It's not a quality box at all, and she just doesn't know how to use it. I do like her a lot, but I like her better when I'm not fucking her.
A few years ago, Debbie rented an apartment downtown so she could be closer to work. It was on the groung floor of an old three story apartment building. Hers was in the front of the building, and a hallway went past her door to the apartment at the back. There was a stairway on the other side of the hall, which lead to the upstairs apartments. It was a nice old place with high ceilings, big windows and a classic, if somewhat faded, elegance.
The other residents of that building, at least those who Debbie came in contact with on a regular basis, were strange and annoying, to say the least. At the back end of the hall on her floor, was a woman who was obviously a prostitute, and someone who was dealing drugs to nasty looking characters who were invited through the front security doors to transact business in the hall, or in the woman's apartment.
Debbie had quite a few run-ins with this woman about her behavior, and there was a lot of friction between them. Up at the top of the stairs, the apartment was occupied by two gay men, Lenny and James, who decided they didn't like Debbie the very first time they laid eyes on her.
There's really no explaining situations like that - it just happens, and there's nothing to be done about it. At any rate, the friction between Debbie and these other building tenants was almost constant, and very rarely did a face-to-face meeting not wind up with the exchange of harsh words, at the very least.
It was late, maybe 1:30AM, on a hot and humid Friday. Debbie had stopped by the local pub, met some friends, and had a few drinks. She packed it in when the place started to empty out and headed home. There was no sign of activity as she reached the front door of her apartment building. The only light was the big one in the hall. She opened the main door and walked toward her apartment door.
As she put the key in to unlock the door, she noticed that it was not locked and pushed right open. She thought that was odd, because she always tried to remember to lock it on her way out. The thought slipped away from her as she entered the dark apartment. Immediately something was wrong.
She was stunned by the feeling of a hand wrapping around her face and mouth from behind. Her head was pulled back, and she heard a low voice whisper, "Scream and you're one dead whore." She wasn't scared, in fact, she was too stunned to be scared. What was this? Was this one of her friends playing some sort of bad joke on her? The reality of the situation came to her in a second.
Someone had broken her lock and had waited in her apartment for her to come home, and she was in a whole shit-load of trouble. "You do like I say or I'll cut you till you ain't got nothin' left to cut," the voice whispered again. She felt the sharp edge of a knife pressed against her right temple and she froze.
"Now, I'm gonna back away from you and you gonna do what I tell you to do. You hear me, bitch?"
"Yeah, I hear you. Don't kill me. Just tell me what you want me to do. I'll tell you where all my money is, so you don't have to look for it," Debbie replied in a trembling whisper.
"I don't want your fuckin' money. You just do what I tell you and you won't get dead. I know you ain't got no gun here, ‘cause I had a real good look around, so you just keep your fuckin' mouth shut and do what I tell you."
"Yeah, yeah, okay."
"Now, you start taking off your clothes. Keep your back to me and take off your clothes."
Debbie didn't hesitate. She was wearing a dress which slipped off her and dropped onto the floor as soon as she had undone the top few buttons. There was complete silence, except for a clicking noise and a corresponding bright flash. This guy taking pictures!
"Now bitch, you turn around."
Debbie complied. She was now looking directly at the intruder. He was black, had no mask or other disguise, and was holding one of those cheap disposable cameras, which he was raising to his eye for another shot. The camera clicked, the flash went off in Debbie's face, and he lowered the camera and looked directly at Debbie.
She immediately noticed that there was a whole pile of the disposable cameras on the table, and there was also a coiled up yellow rope which looked like a clothesline. She thought that he had probably stolen those things on his way to her apartment. She also had another thought, which was more than a little frightening. This guy was making no attempt to disguise himself. Was this because he was planning to leave no witnesses of whatever he might be doing?
"You got a stupid fuckin' bra on. Take that fuckin' thing off., bitch," the man growled.
Once again, Debbie did as she was told. Her floppy tits fell out, and the man barked out. "Man, you got floppy tits like a cow."
"Yes sir, I do," Debbie heard herself reply. Had she really said that, she thought?
The camera flashed again. "Yeah bitch, I like that - you call me sir every time you talk to me, or you're dead. You understand? Now take of your bottoms."
Once again, Debbie complied. Now she was standing in front of the man completely naked except for her shoes. The camera clicked.
"You like to suck cocks, bitch?"
"Yes sir, that is, sometimes I like to suck them."
"You suck cocks good?"
"No sir, I'm not very good at all," Debbie replied in a shaky voice.
"You wanna suck my cock, bitch?"
"Well, I don't know sir. I'm not very good, and you probably wouldn't like it, so I probably shouldn't."
The intruder laughed and snapped another picture.
"Now, you bounce your tits some, like this," the man said as he mimicked a woman bouncing her tits with cupped hands.
Debbie did exactly as the man had done, and he snapped a couple more pictures.
"Now take your shoes off ; we gonna teach you sompthin ‘bout who's the deal here and who ain't."
The man picked up a section of the yellow rope and walked around behind Debbie's back. Grabbing her wrists, he began to wrap the rope around them. Debbie realized that this might be the last chance to fight her way out of this situation, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She now had her hands firmly tied behind her back and was helpless. The man then proceeded to cover her eyes with some sort of cloth, which he knotted on the back of her head.
Now she couldn't see and couldn't use her hands. She realized that she was entirely at his mercy, or lack thereof. She stood there for what seemed like an eternity. What was he doing? She could hear him messing with another rope, but didn't even try to think about what he might be doing with it. She jumped as she felt a loop of the clothesline being placed over her head and down around her neck. Now she knew what the man had been doing; he had been tying a noose.
He yanked the loop tight around her neck and pulled her across the room by the neck. She knew they were situated in the large opening between her one big "everything" room and her kitchen. She knew there was a stout rod stretching across the top of that opening, which had been intended for holding a curtain for dividing the rooms, and she knew what it would be used for now.
She heard the man dragging a chair next to her and knew he was using it to reach high enough to loop the rope around the rod. Suddenly, she felt the rope tighten and begin to stretch her up towards the ceiling. She was compelled to stand almost completely on her toes to keep from strangling. He continued to pull on the rope and then must have been tying it off, because after that, it had no give at all, and she had to balance up on her toes to keep from hanging.
Click, click - she could hear the camera. Then there was silence. What was he going to do? Would her next feeling be that of his knife being plunged into her belly? She knew she couldn't balance like she was for very long, and that he had to cut her down soon, or she would hang. She heard him walk closer to her and felt him wrapping a length of rope around her chest, first above her tits, then below. Then he wrapped a loop around each tit and pulled it very tight - so tight as to cut the circulation off and make them pop out straight from her body."
"You ain't so floppy now, bitch." She heard him say. Then she heard the click, click, click of the camera again.
She twitched as she felt his fingers touching her between her legs, first along the inside of her thigh, then up to her pussy. She tried to bow her right leg open to make it easier for him to get his fingers into her cunt. She was in no position to do anything but cooperate. He gave her pussy a good going over for about five minutes, and she did her best to keep herself in a position where he could do anything he was trying to do, because any resistance or movement would cause her to lose her balance and tighten the noose further. At one point, he kicked her lightly on the ankle, causing her to have to reposition herself quickly to avoid falling and being hanged.
"Hey bitch, you know your face is turning all red?" the man finally broke his silence.
Debbie knew it. She was seeing stars and felt her eyes beginning to roll back. She had the sensation that, if she weren't blindfolded, she would be looking up at the ceiling. Her head was cocked sharply to the right, as the noose was tightening with her slightest movement.
"Hey bitch, you know your tongue is hangin' out? Man I gotta get a picture of this".
Again, Debbie heard the click, click of the camera. Then she felt the intruder's fingers playing with her asshole. If he spent as much time with that as he had with her pussy, she was thinking, she'd be dead by the time he was finished.
He forced his finger up her asshole and worked it around inside her.
"You're my own personal whore now; you understand?"
Debbie tried to agree, but could only grunt. She was losing it fast.
"You gonna suck my dick whenever I want, right?"
Again, Debbie tried to agree, but couldn't muster much of a sound.
"You gonna do whatever it is I want you to do, cause you are my slut; you understand?"
Debbie knew she was close to losing consciousness. She could sense the man was walking away from her. She just stood there and tried to balance herself and keep from passing out.
Five minutes past, and she could feel her ankles shaking and beginning to give way. She could keep herself standing no longer. She had to give up and let go. At that instant, she felt herself falling to the floor. The guy had cut the rope at the last possible second.
"Now, you didn't think I was going to let you die before you got a chance to be my ho, did you?"
Debbie lay on the floor, now semi conscious, still with the noose tight around her neck. Her only sense of what might be happening was that sound again - click, click, click.
After a few minutes, Debbie felt the man cutting the ropes which bound her hands behind her back. He pulled her up to her feet and walked her a few feet to a stuffed chair in the corner.
"Now I want you to pose for some more pictures. Here, you lean over on this here chair, and bend over on it, and you pull your cheek open so I can get a good picture of your asshole."
Debbie did as she was told. It occurred to her that when you reach the point of holding your asshole open so a stranger can take pictures of it, you've pretty much surrendered whatever pride you might have, and it's all about survival from there on.
"You got a cute asshole, bitch. You know that?"
Debbie tried to say something, but the noose, while loosening, was still too tight around her neck.
"Okay bitch, my name is Howard. From now on, you gonna call me Mr. Howard or sir; you understand that?"
"Yes sir, Mr Howard," Debbie replied in the faintest whisper.
"Now we gonna take you over on this here nice big bed and fix you good."
Howard dragged Debbie over to the bed and threw her down on it. He pulled her blindfold off, and she looked down to see how her tits were protruding because of the rope which was wound so tight around them, and how they had turned a deep shade of purple from the lack of circulation. Howard removed the rope from around Debbie's tits, and they returned to their floppy normal position.
"Hey bitch, you look just like a floppy cow again," Howard said as he took a couple more pictures. "Did you know you look like a stupid floppy cow?" he added.
"Yes sir, I knew that," Debbie replied.
"You knew what, bitch? You tell me what you knew."
"I know I look like a stupid floppy cow, sir," Debbie responded.
Howard then retrieved several more pieces of rope and began tying her, spread-eagled, to the posts of the big bed. He tied her ankles to the outside of the posts at the bottom. Debbie had a huge antique bed, and I can tell you that, while I am nearly a foot taller than she is, I cannot reasonably get my ankles around the posts at the bottom of that bed, so you know that she had to be spread open wider than would seem humanly possible. Howard left the noose around Debbie's neck, but without the tension of her weight pulling it, it was continually loosening, and she was better able to breathe.
"Now, you start tellin' me all about yourself," Howard said.
"Oh, I don't know what to say, really, I work downtown at..."
Howard interrupted sternly, "That's not what I mean, you stupid fuckin' whore. I want to know all about what a pig you are and how much you need me to fuck you."
"Well sir, Mr Howard," Debbie replied meekly, "I know I'm a pig and a cheap, dirty whore, and I need you to fuck me real bad."
"Yeah, I bet you need it bad. Do you wand to suck my dick too?"
"Yes sir, I really want to suck your dick too."
"How come you want to suck my dick?"
"Oh, because I'm the biggest slut around, and I need to suck your dick really bad, Mr. Howard," Debbie replied, but not in a convincing tone.
"You stupid fuckin' bitch," the Howard yelled as he straddled Debbie's waist on his knees. He slapped her face with his right hand, hitting her hard enough to turn her head sharply to her right. Then he hit her again with a backhand slap, and continued slapping her that way a dozen times or so.
When he stopped, she could feel the blood running from her nose, and she turned her head to keep it from flowing back down her throat and choking her. Howard then slapped her tits very hard several times, and proceeded to inflict at least twenty minutes of vicious abuse on them, squeezing, twisting, pulling and slapping, while he lectured her on how he expected her to behave towards him in the future. She got the message.
Howard reached for another disposable camera and began snapping pictures of Debbie's tits and bloody face. "Now, you tell me what you are, bitch," Howard demanded.
"Sir, I'm a stupid whore, and I'm a slut and a pig," Debbie replied obediently.
"And what do you need from me?"
"I need you to fuck me like a pig, sir."
"And, do you need me to shove my cock down your throat?"
"Yes sir, I really do."
Howard now seemed pleased with Debbie's tone and behavior. "Do you want me to do it right now?"
"Yes, I need it down my throat right now, Mr. Howard."
With that, Howard positioned himself at the top of the bed, and turned himself around. "Now, put your fuckin' head back and open your mouth."
Debbie complied immediately, and Howard pushed his cock into her mouth and down her throat. She was choking and gagging as she felt Howard's cock sliding deep into her throat. That went on for what seemed like an eternity, with Debbie gagging and trying to find a way to catch her breath as Howard's cock completely filled her throat.
"Okay bitch, now you gonna do something special for me."
Howard pulled out of Debbie's throat an positioned his asshole over her mouth, opening his ass cheeks, as he brought his asshole onto her mouth. Debbie felt the sharp tip if Howard's knife blade pushed against her right tit. "Now, I'm gonna cut you real bad, if you don't get your fuckin' tongue workin' on my asshole," Howard threatened.
Debbie believed his threat. She started frantically licking his asshole with her tongue.
"Now, stick it right up my asshole," Howard ordered, as he brought more of his weight down on her face.
Debbie could not breathe at all. She was being suffocated. All she could do was try with everything she had to stick her tongue up Howard's asshole. He pressed down harder, and she tried harder to penetrate his hole with her tongue, but it just wouldn't make it. Feeling herself passing out, she began to make noise, but Howard did not get off her. She was losing consciousness, just as she had been doing while she was being hanged earlier, when Howard finally raised himself off of her. She started gasping for air as he began laughing at her struggles.
Howard turned himself around and began kissing and licking Debbie's belly. He slowly worked his way down to her pussy and started on that. Debbie could hear a lot of slurping noise and feel his tongue working its way around her lips and hole.
"You ready to get fucked now, bitch?" Howard asked in a very calm tone.
"Yes sir, I am," Debbie replied, hoping that this might mean this whole thing was close to an end.
Howard positioned himself and shoved his cock inside Debbie's cunt. Finally, his cock was inside her. Maybe, this meant that the end was near. But what was the "end"? Would he cut her throat after he was finished fucking her, or would he just leave? For the moment though, Debbie was relieved that the guy was just fucking her and nothing else. She could just lie there and listen to his shit as he was fucking her, and that was how she was hoping this would end.
He pumped away, all the while continuing his nasty talk and name calling. It would be over soon enough, Debbie thought. As she found out, it would not be all that soon. The guy continued pounding Debbie's cunt for a good fifteen minutes, and to Debbie's shock, she could feel a certain sensation starting to build. My God, was she going to cum? She couldn't do that. But the rhythm was so persistent, and she could feel it building up inside her and she couldn't resist.
Her body was betraying her in the most horrible way. She tried to hold it back, but she finally erupted in a most involuntary explosion, which seemed to go on forever and overwhelm her whole body. It was easy for Howard to tell that Debbie was cumming. "There ya go, slut," he taunted her. "You done cum like a real ho." Howard wasn't nearly finished though. Another ten minutes of hard fucking later, Debbie came again, and again Howard gave her hell for it. Finally, Debbie could sense that he was ready to let go himself. He came with a bang, and she could feel his spunk filling her, and making her feel a bit more comfortable because of the added lubrication.
What was going to happen Next? Was he going to subject her to more torment, kill her, or just leave?
Howard got up and walked over towards Debbie's head. He picked up a cloth of some sort. Debbie guessed it was the same cloth he had used as a blindfold when she was being hanged. "Open your mouth, bitch," he ordered. Debbie complied, and he stuffed the cloth in her mouth. He then wrapped the lower part of her face with a length of the yellow rope to insure that she couldn't spit the cloth out.
Howard spent no more than five minutes collecting his stuff, throwing it in a bag and leaving. He said nothing to her as he disappeared out the door, but he did something which disturbed Debbie more than anything else he could do - he left the door half way open. "Oh my God," she thought. It was close to daybreak, and that witch of a whore, Monica, would be getting in soon and would have to walk right by that door to get to her apartment.
Sure enough, ten minutes later, Debbie heard the big front door opening and the clickity clack of her spike heels coming down the hallway. She heard her pass the partially open door and stop. Then Debbie saw a hand on the door and heard Monica's voice.
"Anybody home?" Monica asked as she peered in around the door.
She immediately saw Debbie and said, "Geez, what are you doing there like that?"
It was the stupidest thing Debbie had ever heard anyone say. Couldn't Monica see that she was tied up and bloody, and needed help?
Debbie was more aware than ever of how wide apart her legs were spread and how open her pussy must have been. She could feel the spunk oozing out. Monica walked slowly to the foot of the bed looking directly at Debbie's crotch.
"Is this a weird sex thing you're doing? Do you want me to leave you alone?"
Debbie violently shook her head back and forth and tried to say "no", but all that came through the gag was a muffled "argh" sound.
"Oh, I don't know what to do - just wait here," Monica said, as if there was something else that Debbie could do.
Debbie saw Monica hurry out the door and heard her walking up the steps to the second floor. My God, what was she doing? Debbie got her answer soon enough, as she heard Monica knocking on Lenny and James' door.
A few minutes later, she heard multiple footsteps coming down the stairs, and Monica, Lenny and James came in the room. Now, all three of them were examining Debbie and trying to figure out what to do. Lenny said that he thought they'd better call the police.
Debbie didn't want the police involved - she just wanted to be untied. That was not to be, as Lenny went running upstairs to phone the police. Upon his return, all three of them stood over Debbie, staring at her and wondering among themselves what was going on.
All three slowly seemed to gravitate to the area at the foot of the bed, where they could get an unobstructed view of Debbie's dripping wet, wide open cunt. They stood there for what seemed like forever, occasionally glancing at Debbie's crotch and talking to each other, often in a whisper. Then the police showed up.
Debbie was expecting to be immediately untied. That's apparently not how it works, however. You see, in order to collect the ropes as evidence, the knots must be left intact, and the rope itself must be cut. It would be a few minutes more till someone showed up with the proper knife to cut the rope.
Finally, Debbie was free. She had been spread-eagled so wide for so long, she could hardly use her legs. They took her away, wrapped in plastic, so all of the forensic evidence her body contained could be preserved and protected for lab testing.
She did not want to be tested; she did not want to file a complaint; she just wanted the whole thing put in her past and forgotten. When they asked her for a description of her attacker, she told them he was wearing a mask, and that she couldn't possibly identify him. She told them nothing about Howard taking pictures of everything, or anything about what she was forced to say and do. She wanted this whole episode to end; not to be replayed in further testimony or extended investigation.
When she got back to her apartment, she found that, while the intruder had done little to disturb the place, the police crime people had torn it apart. It's not like the guy stole anything, so there were no theft reports to be made or investigated. In fact, she had told them so little about him, they didn't really know what they were looking for. They didn't know he had taken pictures of the whole thing, so they couldn't possibly know that the little disposable camera on the night stand next to the bed did not belong to her.
What to do with that camera, Debbie thought. She threw it in the kitchen trash can, then she retrieved it. How can you keep such a thing? Then again, how can you throw it away.
Lenny, James and Monica would have a lot to talk about for a long time. Fact is, they wouldn't stop talking about it till Debbie moved out, and she knew it. Monica could have cut her loose or taken the rag out of her throat before she did anything else. She could have done that, and if she had, Debbie would have told her to go away and forget what she had seen, but she knew that Monica wanted to get all that she could from the situation in terms of Debbie's total humiliation and embarrassment.
It took me a long time - at least two years - to get the whole story out of Debbie. It came in bits and pieces, and at my sympathetic urging. My tone was one of understanding and always with an appropriate sense of shock and dismay.
Of course, I never let on that I was taking notes and that, more than a few times, had used the details of Debbie's account as "inspiration" for some late night masturbation sessions, or that I was trying to find a good reason why she should let me have that little disposable camera. I've told Debbie that anything she tells me about this incident stays with me, and that she can confide in me with complete confidence. That may be a bit of a lie, but I am a good listener, and I know she appreciates me for being that way.
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