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