Rape

It had been several months since I had stopped dating Angie, yet I still got angry whenever I thought of her. You’ve got to understand what kind of girl Angie was. She had grown up in the rural South. She had always been beautiful and was used to being center of attention growing up. Everyone thought she was lovely and cunning enough to marry a wealthy man. That was thought of as high praise in her circles.

College did little enlighten her. She learned not to say racist and sexist things, but the rural patrician lens through which she saw the world had not changed. She flirted at every opportunity to get free drinks and the like and could instantly switch back to the self-righteous Christian act.

I met her at the hospital where I was doing research for the university and a pharmaceutical company. I had moved to the South to take a research job when I finished medical school at University of California. We were evaluating the safety of a new family of drugs that could slow down arteriosclerosis and possibly even reverse it. Unfortunately for me, Angie had just finished college and had taken a job a the same hospital for the sole reason of meeting the physicians. I had not known any Southern belles before, so I suppose I was easy target for her.

After dating for only short time, she began to pressure me to get a more glamorous and high-paying job. I tried to tell her that if this drug were ever approved, my job would suddenly be a lot more lucrative and possibly even glamorous.

One day I overheard her bragging to one of her slutty girlfriends on the phone about how she had turned on some professor by rubbing up against him in the pool right in front of his wife. In the same conversation she laughed about how badly she teased another guy who took her out on a date. After teasing him the whole time, she went back to his apartment and made out with him. Eventually she was touching his penis. She asked him if he wanted her, and then told him he could never have her… all while she was still feeling him.

I didn’t mind her dating other guys, but I hated the way she teased them just for the fun of it. Unlike the other times, she wasn’t getting a grade, a first-class seat, or even extra butter on her popcorn. She was just mean.

There had to be some way of showing her how badly she treated people. One day a friend of a friend, Bruce, who I hadn’t talked to since middle school gave me an idea. Bruce worked for a bail bondsman chasing down fugitives. I would have lost touch with him if it weren’t for the common friend who still talked to him. This guy was basically a thug and would have probably had a criminal record by now if it weren’t for his connections with law enforcement. When Bruce brought up the topic of “chicks” who had done us wrong, I told him about Angie’s antics. “I could teach that chick a lesson she’d never forget,” he offered. Then he explained that it wouldn’t be a free lesson. He said he’d raped a girl before for money. He must have read the disgust on my face; he assured me that he’d never do it to a nice girl. He offered to give me a quote if I gave him the details. Before I had even thought about what I was doing, I was telling him where she worked and offering suggestions about where she could be taken. I said I just wanted her raped by a stranger.

He said he would do the job for $5,000. That number sounded expensive until he told me all of the work he was going to have to do… studying the victim’s habits, studying the environment where she would be raped, paying his partner, and filming it. When he mentioned filming it, suddenly it sounded like a bargain. I set aside modest chunks of cash out from a few paychecks to get the cash without leaving any evidence of a single withdrawal that could potentially be linked to the crime.

I was out of town at a convention the night they did it. I couldn’t sleep thinking about Angie finally learning her lesson. I was nervous about getting caught but exited about thinking about the horror and humiliation that was to be visited on my slutty ex-girlfriend that night.

When I got back into town, Bruce showed me the film and photos of his work. The first part showed Angie leaving her apartment to go to work, unaware of what was going to happen to her. They took the pictures from their van. You could see her fixing her hair, getting ready for another night at her job: teasing the docs. Then Bruce and his buddy Francesco who goes by Chico moved the van and went into a building where Angie took a shortcut through on the way to work. They listened to her approaching down the empty hallway. When she got close enough Chico jumped out and grabbed her, covering her mouth to silence her screams. The shuffled her into a freight elevator, closed the door, and set the elevator to go one floor down the basement which they had verified was empty.

“You’re Angie, right” Bruce asked as the elevator took them to basement..

“Ahh, yes sir” Angie replied.

“We hear you’ve been teasing guys and basically being slut. We’re here to give you a message from them about what it feels like when you act like a slut.”

Angie backed into the corner of the elevator. The camera was bouncing around quite a bit on a strap around Chico’s neck. Despite the poor photography, you could see Angie’s eyes desperately searching for an escape.

“You ever been raped before?” Bruce asked. “Wha?” Angie replied in a partially voiced whisper. Bruce seemed to take that as a “no”, “Well there’s always a first time. Get that hospital outfit off.”

Angie just stood frozen, hardly even breathing. Chico held her arms while Bruce took off her hospital top. Her stethoscope fell to the floor. Her kicking and squirming did nothing to stop Bruce from sliding down her pants. She was wearing sexy panties.

“Why you wearin’ those?” Bruce asked with a smile, “Probably show ’em to some doctor or something. Ha, I didn’t even have to go to college.”

As he reached to unsnap Angie’s bra, which by the way fastened in the front, the camera caught the tears swelling up in her eyes. You barely hear her whisper “Please don’t.” before he unfastened her bra. “I bet you drive the guys crazy with these tits,” he said as he felt and gently squeezed them. I had seen her breasts many times before, but they somehow looked different in Bruce’s hands. I had never seen her crying before either. This was the first time I had seen her without her belle-of-the-ball act.

Then Bruce ripped her flimsy Victoria Secret panties off and pushed his finger into her pussy. “Too bad for you you’re not havin’ your period. That’d been the only thing that would of kept me from taking your pussy.” He looked up and down her body and laughed, “What are you gonna give the next guy you brush by in the pool?”

He slapped her across the face and kicked her legs. Chico caught her fall. You could hear Bruce pushing her down on the elevator floor, but you couldn’t see anything. The camera was passed to Chico. From then on, I was treated to good pictures of Angie lying naked on the dirty freight elevator floor, her hair all sprawled out, her clothes and stethoscope in a heap next to her. Bruce was on top of her with her legs pushed back to her sides while Chico held her down. Angie’s sobs turned into a brand of scream that I had never heard from her as he penetrated her. After a few seconds she tightened her lips and let out no sound while she was being raped. Bruce slapped her a few times trying to get some noise out of her. He grabbed a gun out of his jacket. His holster and bounty-hunting license and badge fell on the elevator floor. “Alright fucktoy, now you’re gonna sing ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’ while I bang you.” Angie complied and the song came out as mostly crying, which I think is what Bruce was going for.

I was really enjoying listening to her crying when Bruce suddenly got up. “I think I’d rather jack off than fuck this stuck up pin cushion. Let’s cuff her hands.” Chico held her cuffed hands while Bruce forced her onto her knees. Bruce had a large pair of pliers which he put around Angie’s tit. As he began to squeeze down, Angie cried out, “No, NooooAAAIIIII”. Chico got good pictures of the metal biting into her soft breast. This was disconcerting. I had hoped they wouldn’t ruin her breasts. Fortunately, Bruce stopped short of doing permanent damage.

Bruce took off his condom and put it in his bag. “Alright slut-toy. Suck me off, and if I don’t like one thing about what you’re doing, I’ll crush your tit in my pliers, and you’ll never tease another boy in your life.” With a portion of her breast between Bruce’s pliers, Angie had no choice but to begin licking and sucking his penis. It seemed like no time before he was cumming. He pulled his dick out and spilled his cum all over her face. She tried to recoil, but Chico was holding her body and Bruce held her hair. She tightened her lips as his cum squirted all over on her face. When his orgasm stopped she spit out the cum that had gone in her mouth, and it rolled down her chin. He showed me a nice 35mm picture he took of this. It showed the cum mixing with the tears on Angie’s face and the cum that she spit out rolling down her chin.

The video showed them forcing her to lie on her belly with her hands still cuffed behind her back. Chico pushed her cum-soaked face hard against the dirty floor and began masterbating by her head. He buried his dick in her hair. You could hear Angie moan in disgust as she felt him squirting his load into her hair.

“How you like that, gringa bitch?” Chico yelled. Bruce took another 35mm shot of this sight. You could see the clumps of Chico’s cum in her hair.

Bruce collected his things and got ready to go. “I guess we’re done with her. We can shoot her.” Bruce said.

“Oh no, please…” Angie said through her sobs.

“I don’t want to kill you, Angie, if you’ve learned something. Prove to me you have.” Bruce said as he handed her her ripped panties and a permanent marker. “Now write a message to the guys you tease. Write ‘T-h-a-n-x for having me raped. Love, Angie’.” Angie must have been scared out of her mind because she took the marker and wrote his thank-you note on her panties. The message took up most of the seat of her pathetically skimpy panties. Bruce snapped a few 35mm shots of her writing it.

Bruce made her hold it up on display for one more 35 mm shot. You could see a thin layer of dirt and cum on one side of face, drying cum on the other, and her little hands holding up her panties. Unfortunately, the cum in her hair was not visible in this shot.

“Alright Angie, we’re leaving now, but if you leave this elevator before we’re gone, we’ll shoot you. Wait till we’re gone.” With that they opened the elevator door and ran back to the van. They drove around the building looking for her. She emerged on the same side she had entered about ten minutes later. It looked like she was scampering home. The windows were tinted so they were able to get one drive-by look at her. She had put her pants and shirt back on, probably after using one of them to wipe the cum from her face and hair. It looked like she was hiding her tears and doing everything she could to not look like a girl who just got raped. Bruce laughed that she helped them out in that regard. No one could tell she wasn’t wearing panties or that she had her rapists’ cum on her.

Bruce offered to sell me the panties and 35mm stills for $5,000 extra. Amazing. This was just like buying a car. Even though I really wanted the rape trophies, I turned him down because I was afraid of getting caught. I knew how to encrypt the digital video and put it on a disk so that it would be very hard to find in a search, if it ever came to that. I did not know, however, how to hide physical items linking me to the crime. After a few weeks, I checked the records at the courthouse. The slut had reported the crime as a simple robbery! I heard she told her boss the same story. At that point I called Bruce and bought the rape-trophies for $5,000. I like to fancy that in the same way a girl’s body gives off pheromones when she’s aroused, her pussy gives off specific chemicals when she realizes she’s about to be forced to have sex. I really thought the panties still had the smell of her fear.

I ran into her a couple weeks later at the hospital. Having seen her humiliated did little to make me feel impervious to her flirtations. As always, I thought to myself that I had to resist her flirtations and just stay away from her. I even felt a little bad for what I had had done to her. To my surprise, she was much more reserved and shy. She looked down a lot more instead of flirtatiously looking me in the eye. She was treating me like a person, rather than a possibility of “scoring a doctor”. At first I was scared she might be on to me. Then I saw her demeanor had changed around other people as well. She seemed to be relating to people as a human being rather than casting herself in the role of a cunning sex object. Evidently she had learned a powerful lesson on the floor of the elevator that night.

Although it was certainly immoral, that rape was the best thing I could have given her. It gave her humility and a new respect for men. I wondered if her newfound demure personality would have the side-effect of making her less fun on dates. Maybe one day I’ll find out.

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