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Collected by Djian

Another story by she-cries | Breaking in Teacher | Dara Pulls a Train

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Goth's Not Slut (my day at the beach)

This is something of a dramatized version of something that happened to
me in the Summer of 1990, when I was 20. It certainly didn't all happen
to me like it was written, but many of the experiences were exactly as I
describe, to a point, that is. I found that by pushing things to the
furthest limit of my imagination it was easier to write about my
experiences, and what had been something of a therapeutic exploration of
a very traumatic few days in Santa Cruz became, well, what you see.

I'll leave it for whoever reads this to guess what really happened to me
and what didn't. I'd love know just what sounds plausible and what
sounds fantastical so I can begin to understand whether or not events
that were so unbelievable to me at the time are something that men and
women understand happens.

Maybe some day I'll rewrite this story so that it reflects more
accurately what happened to me, but for now the shrouds of hyperbole and
the omission of certain things that I can hardly even begin to think
about nine years later are necessary buffers. I've tried to avoid
sounding ludicrous, though I have also done my best to make this out to
read like other erotic stories rather than another depressing
testimonial of rape victims, so I hope with a little feedback to find an
equilibrium. All of the incidents, however, either happened to me, in
one way or another, or reflect stories that I heard other women tell
while I was attending support groups.

At the very least I hope that if some of the men who read this have ever
found themselves in a similar situation (or god forbid were part of that
horrible vacation) will think twice before letting themselves get
carried away with what appears to be a willing woman.

The most important thing I have learned in my group meeting is that
there is no such thing as a slut. There are just some very insecure
women out there. I'm one of them...

Goth's Not Slut (my day at the beach)
By: she-cries (she-cries@hotmail.com)
M+F mmmF nc/rape/humil/exhib/?inter-ws?

Part 1
I picked what looked like a black one-piece bathing suit out of a table
of discount items, but it had a neon pink stripe, almost an arrow,
running down the front to the crotch. It looked like one of those suits
designed to make girls tits stand out more. I never wear color, my
whole wardrobe is black, but I didn't care about that, since I didn't
plan on wearing this in front of anyone.

Mickey, my fiancé, had taken me to Santa Cruz for the weekend, so we
could boogie board on the beach, even though neither of us had ever done
it before. He'd borrowed a couple of those thermal body suits that
surfers wear because the water is so cold in Northern California, and
since I almost never go swimming I didn't have anything to wear under it
but my underwear. Going nude under it was not an option. I don't know
why, but I just can't bear to have only one layer of clothing, and ever
since I hit puberty I have always worn several layers of clothes. This
whole trip was unusual for me, I mean how many goth girls do you see at
the beach.

I'd found this little shop right off the beach a little ways up the
coast from the Boardwalk. It was nestled into a small strip mall, with
a weather worn front end with a lot of "discount" signs in the window,
so I thought it would be a good place to pick up a cheap suit to wear.
Mickey dropped me off with his little brother, Evan, and left to go get
his friend Arnold, who I don't like because he always stares at my
boobs. Evan does the same thing, but he's thirteen and can't really
help himself.

I know I have a large chest, but I hate my boobs because they hang down
causing a fold that I can hide a cigarette under. Mickey says they're
beautiful, and a lot of guys hit on me and can't take their eyes away
from them, but I wish I had firmer breasts with small nipples like the
models on those magazines. Mickey says that those are usually fake
breasts and real ones, like mine, are better. In a bikini, or a
one-piece they don't usually sag, but that's not why I avoid them.

My mom was a short, round Mexican lady. I didn't inherit her smooth
brown skin, but her curly black hair and thick figure. I'm not obese,
or even chubby. I take a lot of pride in the fact that my waist is so
much thinner than my hips and my chest, but I don't have any muscle
tone, and when I bend over my belly folds a bit showing these little
pudgy rolls that you can pinch. What's worse is that my butt does the
same thing when I stand straight up, and it's not as if I can hold
pencils in the folds of my ass, but let's just say that I get hit on by
black men all the time. I exercise all the time, but that only keeps me
from getting big, like my mom, and it doesn't do anything about me being
so short. There's also nothing I can do about my face, which I think is
plain, but a lot of men compliment me on my dark eyes and my thick full
lips. I think that's mostly due to the gobs of make-up I cake on.

So I didn't really care much how the suit looked when I picked it out,
since I'd never wear it in front of people. I looked around to make
sure that Evan wasn't around. He was pretending to look though a rack
of T-shirts while actually eyeballing a couple of girls walking by the
window. They had trim bodies and walked past unembarrassed in their
bikinis, with their perfect tans and smooth styled hair. I brushed my
hair back self-consciously. Not that I'm ashamed of it, it goes halfway
down my back, and it's so kinky that I don't have to do anything with it
when I get out of the shower. It dries full bodied, and I let it fall
over one eye so it narrows my cheeks, and my lips, which pucker
naturally, seem to stick out even more.. Guys tell me it makes me look
demure. I don't have to die it black, like a lot of other goth girls
do, but then I could never get away with the bob haircut that was really
popular with us back then, since it would frizz out.

At any rate, with Evan distracted I folded the suit carefully so no
pink showed and went to find the dressing room. He had been giving me
shit all the way to Santa Cruz about how funny it would be to see me not
dressed up as a goth, since I had agreed to wear one of the body suits
Mickey had gotten. I didn't want him to make fun of me for the
one-piece as well, since as far as I was concerned no one would ever see
me in it.

I spotted a drawstring curtain in a corner of the room. I hoped that
wasn't the only dressing room, since it not only opened to the whole
room when drawn but it was almost a foot too short, and everyone would
be able to see your feet if you undressed behind it. Aside from that
the store was pretty busy, and there were about seven or eight guys and
a couple of girls looking through the racks. I made my way to the
dressing room, attracting a few stares, as I always do, because of my
outfit, which was typical of me. A short black velvet stretch dress,
tight with long sleeves, black stockings and black suede buckle boots.

When I got to the dressing room I realized that not only was it the
only room but that the curtain didn't close all the way. It ran
perpendicular from the wall and if you stood close enough you could just
lean over and look right in. What was worse was that a rack of men's
bathing trunks ran right up to the open edge of the curtain, and there
was a mirror placed at such an angle that one wouldn't even have to
lean, but find a good vantage point and just watch.
I suppose that this was all to discourage shoplifters, but I was being
discouraged from buying there at all. But I needed the suit, and I
wasn't about to pay ten dollars for a swim suit that didn't fit. I
looked around and saw Evan looking around for me and decided to just do
it. Ducking into the room before Evan could find me I knew I had to do
this as quickly as possible otherwise I would just chicken out.

I dropped my purse, and pulled the dress up over my head, looking
around for somewhere to hang it, but there were no hooks, so I let it
fall. Then, leaving my panty hose on I started to pull on the suit, but
realized that I wouldn't know If I could stand wearing the one-piece,
since the hose would kept me from noticing if, say, the suit rode up on
me, or chafed.

I pulled my leg out of the suit and yanked down my hose. Too quickly
it seemed, since my panties went right down with them. Feeling the cool
breeze between my thighs reminded me that never in my life had I been
this exposed, even if I was behind a curtain. At that moment the
curtain was the only thing keeping me from exposing myself to a room
full of men. Trying to extract my panties from the hose I felt a warm,
tight knot forming in my stomach, my fingers fumbled clumsily with the
fabric as a faint craving to touch myself came up. I pulled up the
panties, the smooth cloth rubbing over my skin, and the knot started to
loosen.

Ever since I was twelve I had reacted to stressful situations by
masturbating. When my mom would lose her temper and start raging, or
when the other girls would make fun of me at school for dressing funny,
I would run to my bedroom and touch myself. It was a way to take me
away from myself, so I wouldn't have to wonder why I felt so different.
I never thought about suicide, for me there was always an escape that
was purely physical. Sometimes I think that that was why I survived
high school. Mickey complains a lot about me not wanting sex too often,
but that's because it's always been a private thing for me. A place
where I can go and not have to worry about what others think, or how
fucked up the world can be.

I finally pulled on the suit, leaving my hose discarded in a small wad
on the floor. I had to stuff my breasts into the tight fabric, and I
could feel it pinching my butt cheeks and smashing my chest to the
sides. I looked at the mirror but all I could see was a reflection of a
row of swim trunks and a couple guys looking through them. When I
realized that this meant that they could see me the knot came back and
my tummy started to burn. I took a deep breath, they probably weren't
looking, and I was only exposed for a couple moments, so there was
nothing to worry about. What I was worried about was having to step out
from behind the curtain to look at myself, where the whole store could
see me.
I could feel the suit pressing in to me, pressing the metal wires in my
bra under my chest and wadding up my panties in the back. I took
another deep breath, and stepped out. One quick glance, that was all it
took to realize that the suit was definitely not built for a woman of my
height and build. The leg holes went up past my waist and pinched the
skin where it folds, and the chest was so small that I could see inches
of my cleavage. My breasts bulged out under the shoulder straps and the
shape of my nipples were clearly visible where the pink fabric met the
black. Worst of all was where the crotch rubbed against my unshaved
pubic hair. It chafed.

Suddenly I caught myself, realizing how long I had been looking at
myself, I spun around and saw the two guys I had seen earlier looking
with grins. Both were young men in their teens; California beach types,
tanned, skinny, with short unstyled hair. They both turned away quickly
and I ducked behind the curtain. I reached back to loosen the bunching
of my panties and realized that the whole suit had gone up between my
legs and my entire ass had been exposed as if I were wearing a thong all
the way up past my waist. I frantically started pulling the suit off
and had it down just past my waist when I looked up and saw the faces of
the two guys looking at me in the reflection. They both looked away
again, but they had seen me in my bra, which no one but Mickey gets to
do! They had also seen my butt, and as I said before I am not proud of
my ass and no one but my few boyfriends have ever gotten to see. One of
them looked up, saw me watching him and moved out of view, fortunately.
The other kept his back turned, I guess he had seen enough. I pushed
the suit down quickly, but like my hose it pulled my panties down with
it, just the crotch stayed bunched up between my legs.

"Are you almost done yet?"

I looked up and there was a young guy looking in, a different one, this
one about 17, a few years younger than me. His eyes were fixated on my
crotch and my hand snapped into place trying to protect what was left of
my modesty.

"Sorry." He mumbled, looking up at my face for a second and
disappearing.

I had to get out of there, and grabbed my dress off the ground with one
hand as I pulled off the suit with the other, forgetting my panties that
went with them. I pulled my dress over my head, abandoning for a moment
the underwear which was knotted around my knees. When I pulled my neck
through the opening I saw the guy again, standing behind the curtain
with me.

"I just need to try these on." He said holding up a pair of trunks.
He
pulled off his shirt and started to work at his jeans while I stared
agape. As he pulled his pants down I saw that he wasn't wearing
underwear, his penis was sticking out, fully erect, and he was looking
at me with a sort of grin.

I realized that my dress was still half up, my pubic bush was still
exposed, and I tried to pull the skirt down, but my arms were still
tangled up and as I started trying to get them into the sleeves he
started to masturbate. I stared in horror as he played with himself,
stroking his thin penis as he watched me like I was a picture in a
magazine. The knot grew stronger, and the burn crept down into my
crotch, filling my labia with blood and making my hands itch to touch
myself. I wanted so much to reach down and start to rub, to make this
all go away, to pretend like I was alone in my room at home, but that
would have been the worst thing I could have done.

Suddenly thick jets of cream shot out from the boy's penis,
splattering me in the belly, my crotch, my thighs. Some of it landed on my bare
toes. Shocked out of my reverie I pushed my arms through the sleeves and
pulled the skirt down, spreading semen downward and pushing it into my
bush, but I was too startled to care about my short velvet dress. I
bent down to grab my purse and my clothes, but he took a step forward.
When I looked up my face bumped into his penis, semen streaking across
my cheek, the head of the thing landing on my lips. I looked up at him,
my mind reeling in fear as my hands groped for my belongings. He smiled
down at me, his hand grasped the base of his penis and moved it across
my mouth, casually spreading his jism where it touched me, throbbing as
it did, small baubles of runny sperm oozing out and dribbling down to my
chin.

He gave a sort of push, and for some reason, a reason I couldn't
understand, I didn't lock my lips or clench my teeth. I didn't even
turn my head, but let him just open my thick red lips with his penis,
and he pushed a little further in until the baubles were rolling out
onto my tongue and my lips encircled and closed around his light girth.

I let my purse go and clutched myself, between my legs,
unconsciously.
I didn't rub. I had never done anything like that in public, but I had
to do something about the knot of fear in my stomach; Fear of total
humiliation as this boy pushed his thing around in my mouth.

He moved his hand forward a couple times, milking even more out of
himself, all the while grinning down at me with his pimply teenage smile
as I stared up at him subserviently. What would Mickey think. I always
made him wear a condom, even for oral sex, and here I was with a
stranger's semen gathering in the fold of my tummy, matted in my public
hair, coating my mouth like a second coat of lipstick and dribbling onto
my tongue.

He started to thrust, and I let him while trying to hold my head steady
as he pushed deeper into my mouth. His dick wasn't long, and it wasn't
thick, so it wasn't hard for him to use me like that. He put his hand
behind my head to hold it steady against the increasing force of his
thrusting.

After a few moments of his doing this my mind started to settle, I
realized what was happening, but I didn't stop him. I was too scared of
what would happen if I even moved. I looked around me, but when I saw
the mirror I froze again. There I was on my knees with one hand
clutching my crotch, my skirt hiked up in back, and past me, in the
reflection, I could see the two boys I had seen earlier, watching. This
time they didn't look away.

Suddenly the hand on my head seized me tight, the thrusts became
manic
and my head was being shaken back and forth violently. Just as abruptly
he stopped moving and warm goo started hitting my tongue and filling my
mouth. It must not have been that much, Mickey never comes much the
second time, but filling my mouth like that it seemed and enormous
amount. I wanted to swallow it, to get it out of my mouth, but I
couldn't, and it was all I could do to keep from gagging.

Finally he pulled out and started to get dressed, pulling his jeans on
first, then his shirt, as I knelt there with a mouthful of his sperm,
too scared to spit or swallow. He slipped into his shoes and smiled at
me. He mumbled something, but I could see shyness welling up in him,
his earlier confidence abating with his erection. He ducked out of the
booth.

Suddenly back in the real world I came to my senses. I opened my mouth,
but a dribble of semen out the corner made me slam it shut. I tried to
swallow again, but couldn't, it's acrid bitter bleachy taste making me
want to retch. I let go of myself, grabbed my stuff and stood up. I
turned and started to walk out of the booth, but bumped into one of the
kids. He was standing in the way with a sheepish grin. He started to
look me in the eye, then he looked away, down at my body, at my bare
legs, my exposed pubic bush and my bare ass. I realized that he thought
he was going to get a turn and froze, clamping my lips tight to keep the
semen from dribbling out inadvertently.

The thought of being used twice in such a way was too much. My legs
started to wobble, and the burning in my stomach became fierce. I was
desperate to play with myself, to find a hole to crawl into where this
boy, younger than the one who had come in my mouth, who had seen me let
a complete stranger take me in a public place, didn't exist.

But he wasn't as bold as the older boy. He blushed and took a quick
step back. I seized the opportunity and darted for the entrance to the
store, pulling my skirt down and almost bumping into several guys on the
way.

"Are you gonna pay for that?"

I staggered and stopped, my mouth coming open inadvertently for a
moment, semen dribbling on my lip. I looked down at my hand, but
instead of my panties and hose I had the one-piece suit. A middle-aged
man with a large belly stood behind a counter in the center of the store
staring angrily at me. I looked back at the dressing room, but the
young boy standing in the doorway made me turn around. I marched up to
the counter and pulled my wallet out of my purse.

"Twenty-five."

I looked up at him. I wanted to tell him that the suit came off the
discount table, but with my mouth full of semen I couldn't say a thing.
Again I tried futilely to swallow it, but my throat threatened to gag.
The thought of spilling the strangers semen all over the counter in
front of all these men kept me silent as I pulled out the money and paid
the man. I looked around the room, a lot of eyes were on me. In one
corner I saw the stranger talking to a couple of his buddies, also
younger than me. They were looking at me with knowing grins, smiling.
One of them slapped the stranger on the back. I looked away as the
mustached man behind the counter counted my change with one hand and
rubbed his belly with the other. His eyes were pointed down at my legs,
which I was acutely aware of being bare to the world for the first time
since I was a very little girl. They were pale and white, with thick
but firm hips, the result of a lot of exercise. I had narrow ankles and
tiny feet, which were bare as I'd hardly taken the time to grab my boots
when I flew from the dressing room. The man put the suit in a small
plastic bag and pushed it across the counter to me. I took it and the
change and quickly walked out the door, conscious his eyes on the hem of
my high tight skirt and my lack of panties which must have revealed the
curve of my butt cheek. Aware of the laughing boys who now knew what I
had done, the two who saw it, and the one I had done it to, all watching
me as I left.

The cool breeze blew through my legs, caressing my hot labia as I
stepped into the busy parking lot. I ducked behind a pillar to shield
myself from view of the store and spat out the boy's sperm. It came out
in thick runny globules, and I gagged and spat several times before I
was convinced that it was all out.
When I looked up I saw Evan watching.

"Hey, what's up."

I shook my head at him and walked back towards the beach. After a
moment I looked back and saw him running to catch up with me.

"Was that what I thought it was? It looked like..."

"Something came up," I said, "That's all. Maybe I'm close to my
period, I get sick sometimes." Not thinking who I was saying this lie
to I tried to look at Evan matter of factly, but don't know how well I
hid my nervous apprehension, or whether he recognized the cum on my
lips. As I saw him looking me over I realized how unusual I looked,
without any stockings on, my hair disarrayed and make-up undoubtedly
smeared.

"You were in that changing room a long time. And I saw that guy go in
there and come out before you did." I just looked back at Evan. The
horror of having been seen by my fiancé's kid brother threatened to make
me genuinely sick. Had he seen anything more?

Evan persisted, "What did you do with that guy?"

"Nothing." I said, "He just wanted to look in the mirror."

"With you in that super slinky suit?" He had seen her when she stepped
into the store to look at herself. When the suit had gone all the way
up her ass.

"I..."

"How come you were showing your pussy to the whole room when you came
out?"

"Evan-" I stammered.

"You fucked him didn't you." Evan's mouth was knotted up in a frown, how
could I possibly explain to him what happened.

"I was dressing when he came in, Evan." I pleaded with him, pulling the
hem of my skirt down further as Evan scrutinized my legs, the first time
he, or almost anyone I knew but Mickey had ever seen them bare. "He
wouldn't leave, so I ran out?" I couldn't tell him about having let the
boy put his penis in my mouth. I couldn't tell him how I had to take
his sperm.

"Why did you take your panties off then? I always leave my underwear on
when I'm trying on clothes, I mean everyone in the room could see you in
that dressing room."

That comment took my breath away, but I realized that he had to be
exaggerating, otherwise he would know what I'd done. Or was he just
trying to make me admit it.

"Evan." I pleaded, hoping he wouldn't make me explain.

But Evan's face had softened, he started to look genuinely worried.
"What did you do with him." I could see that he didn't look me in the
eye, but was more unabashed than usual about checking me out.

"Evan," I said, "He came into the room and started masturbating. I was
totally naked." I exaggerated, "I couldn't leave. I mean, I couldn't go
out there and let everyone see me like that."

"He saw you?" Evan's eyes were wide as he looked me over. "He saw you
totally naked?"

I nodded, starting to feel deeply embarrassed. Just having to share my
humiliation, though inaccurately was almost as bad as the experience
itself. "Please don't tell Mickey Evan. This'll just be our secret,
all right?"
Evan looked up at me, "Okay." Between my embarrassment and shaking
knees I felt a great sigh of relief. I would have to start being nicer
to the little creep. "But I wanna see what he saw."

My heart sank. I was being blackmailed by this little shit. My legs
were wobbly and my voice shook, but I said,

"Look Evan if you think I'm going to expose myself to you-"

"What about the blow job you gave him?"

My mouth fell open. Had he seen everything?

"That's cum over there on the sidewalk isn't it?"

I started to shake my head.

"Then what is it!?" Evan was shaking with nervousness and anger. I had
betrayed his big brother. But if that's why he was mad then why was he
trying to make me embarrass myself?

"Its..." I gave up. "You're right Evan. He made me give him a blow
job." My world was dark and dim, I was sure I would collapse my legs
were so shaky. I went on, "I wanted to run, or scream, but I didn't
want everyone in the room to see me like that."

I could see pity in Evan's eyes, but there was something else. A
feeling that was altogether unique to thirteen year old boys when they
think about things like naked women and blow jobs.

"Show me!"

I was in shock. This can't be happening. First a seventeen year old
pushes his penis into my mouth until he comes then my fiancé's thirteen
year old brother asks me to expose myself to him. I must have mumbled
some sort of negative because he shouted, "If you don't show me I'm
gonna tell Mickey about the whole thing and you can explain this to
him!"

I stood still for just a moment, then, feeling the knot in my tummy
tighten up even tighter I took a few steps back to where I had spat up
the strangers semen. I stopped by the pole and turned to face Evan. I
could see the street, but from the shoulder down I was blocked by parked
cars and a long shrubbery that shadowed the store windows. Evan stood
arms crossed waiting.

I turned around and hiked up the skirt for Evan to see that I wasn't
wearing anything.

"Higher." He said.

I pulled the skirt up a bit more.

"All the way! I want to see what you showed that guy."

I looked around frantically, a couple pedestrians glanced in our
direction but walked on. There were people in the parking lot coming
and going, but no one looking directly at us. I pulled the skirt up to
my waist, glanced back at Evan and his fierce glare and hiked it up
further, until it was above my bra. I crouched down slightly for fear
of being seen through the car windows I hid behind.

Evan just glared. I looked at him pleadingly, but he only glared
back. I could see the bulge in his pants, but he seemed to want
something more. I turned to face him, to let him see me from the front,
but he just kept staring.

"What?" I pleaded.

Evan just stared.

I stood up straight, to give Evan a better look. He took a step
closer, looking me over, then at my breasts for a moment and then at my
face.

I turned my head slowly, pleading, "No." with a whisper, glancing at
other people in the parking lot, hoping he would have a little mercy. I
hadn't shown the other boy my bare breasts at all, so far I had kept
those safe from greedy eyes, but I couldn't tell Evan that since I had
already lied to him.

Evan didn't budge.

Slowly I pulled the dress off, I had to, that's the only way I could
get the bra off. When I unhooked the clasp and let the bra slide down I
could feel myself quivering. All it would take would be a casual glance
to reveal me to any passerby, exposing myself in public for a
thirteen-year old. Evan reached out and I handed the bra to him. He
fondled it for a second then casually flung it over the car to his
right. I watched in terror, wondering if my dress would be next, but
Evan was pointing at the ground.

I followed his finger and saw the puddle of jiz that I had spat up,
still pooled on the tile of the strip mall walkway.

"What?" I whispered.

"Finish it." He said flatly.

My eyes must have bugged out of my head as my jaw dropped because
Evan smiled slightly, and I realized that this was his revenge for all the
times I'd patronized him and put him down for being a kid. Nothing I
could do or say would get me out of this. He didn't care that I was a
grown woman who was almost entirely in his power, he was a child,
looking out to get a bit of petty revenge.

I bent down to my knees, grimacing at the asphalt curb, but I didn't
dare go up on the walkway where I might be seen. At least down here I
was somewhat hidden. I bent my head down to the globules of sperm,
runny and viscous now that they had mixed with my saliva and settled on
the hot sidewalk. A thin layer of dust covered the ground as I knelt
closer.

I looked back at Evan one last time, but he lunged forward and grabbed
my upthrust backside. His small hand groped my labia, spreading the
lips apart sending shivers and vibrations through me, and a gasp, almost
a cry of unfulfilled pleasure as the pain in my gut loosened for a
moment; Relieved by the time worn habit of touching myself when it
hurts, and wet by the time worn habit of masturbating when I am scared
or embarrassed.

"You're wet. How come you're wet? Did you let him fuck you?" Evan
asked, grinding two fingers into me, inside me, as I rocked with
humiliation and unabashed satisfaction.

"No." I gasped, but Evan pushed my head into the puddle with his
free hand.

"Eat!" He barked, and I started frantically to lick at the gooey
puddle, not so aware now of the vicious taste or the dirt as Evan's
fingers mercifully dug at me, numbing the pain.

"What did you do?" He prodded.

Between tonguefulls of semen, dirt and saliva, I murmured, "He put
his... thing in my mouth, he... He made himself cum."

"You let him!?" Evan shouted, shoving with all his might his fingers
into me, grinding my face in the tile, and the remaining puddle of
semen. He yanked his fingers out, and I fell over, exhausted. Evan
pushed me onto my backside, and I lay before him, spreading my legs on
the asphalt for him while he glared accusingly at me.

"I was too scared to do anything." I pleaded, "I've never had anything
like that happen to me." All the while, Evan crept down to position
himself between my spread legs, staring hungrily at my swollen shining
pussy.

"You must have liked it if it made you so wet." Evan alleged.

I shook my head frantically. Cum was smeared over my lips, my jaw
and
nose, "No. I was terrified."

Evan looked at me with menacing eyes, smiled and reached down to
unbutton his pants, "Admit it, you're a slut." He whispered.

I shook my head-

"Admit it!" he ordered.

"I'm a slut." I whimpered, tears stinging my eyes as the burning
filled by whole inside and I yearned to have Evan touch me again and
send it all away. I felt him brush me, then something warm. I looked
down and saw his penis prodding my thigh, "No."

"Whattaya mean no? You're a slut!"

"I can't, what about Mickey?"

"You don't tell him anything and I won't." Evan was clumsily probing
around trying to find my hole. It was obvious he'd never had a girl
before. "Fuck, you do it." He grabbed my hand and made me take his
penis and guide it. I took it and rubbed him for a moment against my
clitoris, burning flashes of pleasure blinding me for a moment...

Then I took a testicle and squeezed it. Not too hard, but hard
enough.

"What if I told Mickey that you tried to rape me?"

Evan gasped and groaned, trying to curl into a ball, but I held him in
place with my free arm and my legs as I rubbed his shriveling penis
against my clitoris, trying to numb the pain and humiliation I was
feeling, while basking in the revenge at the humiliation he foisted on
me as he cried like a baby in my arms. Finding his shriveling dick
useless I shoved the sobbing child off of me and got to my hands and
knees and went after my dress on the ground next to me.

I didn't make it a foot before I was violently rubbing myself, trying
to finish what Evan had started. It wasn't until I had made myself cum,
biting my lip to keep from yelping with the orgasm that I let myself
reach for my dress, marveling at the glistening fingers of my right
hand. I had never once put my fingers inside myself for masturbation,
but because of Evans prodding had found myself desperate for more. I
started to feel pretty silly for having thought that, but then I guess
that there aren't a lot of girls who masturbate when they get scared, so
I was a special case. I just couldn't believe that I had just done it
in a public place, with Mickey's little brother writhing in pain as he
watched a few feet away.

Looking at Evans curled body, trying to pick itself up as he hoisted
curses at me, calling me slut, bitch, whore, whatever I smiled but
almost regretted not having let him fuck me.

But then if he had I might have gotten pregnant, aside from all the
guilt I'd feel about having to deal with Mickey. Besides, who's to say
that Evan would have been satisfied with once. I had given him what he
asked for, and more. I had degraded myself utterly in a way no man had
ever made me do. I hated Evan so much right then that if I'd had a gun
I would have shot him dead.

But I didn't have a gun. In fact I was still utterly naked in a public
place in the hot noonday sun. Evan of course was fully dressed but for
his unzipped fly, watching me with wide eyes as I knelt on my hands and
knees, my sex wide open for him to watch. I became more and more aware
that Evan had been watching every detail as I thrust my fingers in and
out of my vagina, that he had seen my orgasm, my total loss of control,
all brought about by his sick act of vengeance. What must he think of
me? I grabbed for my dress and pulled it on. My bra was nowhere in
sight, so I pulled on my boots and zipped them up, grabbed my purse and
the bag with the swimsuit in it and marched off. I was aware as I
walked how my breasts jiggled and swung back and forth inside the
elastic material of my dress, but try as I might to walk steadily I
could not control them.

I needed to get to a private place and get cleaned up. To put
something on underneath this dress and get to where I was supposed to
meet Mickey on the beach, but first I needed some underwear, or at the
very least, stockings.

I walked into a convenience store at the end of the strip mall, a
glance in the glass door's reflection told me how badly my make-up was
messed up. How much of the shiny cum had run over my jaw onto my neck.
I walked past the large bellied scruffy man behind the counter to the
condiment stand, grabbed a couple napkins and did my best to wipe the
cum off my face, and fix the worst smears. He observed me carefully the
whole time. I was self conscious but I couldn't have Mickey seeing my
in the condition I was in. When I found the small selection of panty
hose they had for sale I was shocked by their prices. They were easily
three times what I was used to paying at home and I only had a couple
dollars left after being extorted by the clerk at the swimwear store. I
could remember his mustachioed grin as I shelled out most of my money,
staring at my legs while I was forced to submit mutely, holding a
mouthful of bitter jism in my mouth. A mouth that had never before
tasted an unsheathed penis, much less semen.

After pacing around for a few minutes I realized I was going to have
to wear the swim suit. If anything, the leers from the hairy bear of the
older man behind the counter were enough to tell me that I would have to
do something about my breasts. Even if I could afford hose they would
do nothing for that. But first I was going to have to do something
about the chafing in the crotch. I found a single disposable razor and
a bottle of glycerin. I wanted shaving cream or soap, but the glycerin
was only sixty cents and I know that some guys use it to shave. I went
up to the counter and placed the items before the man, he wore a tight
T-shirt that showed his rotund belly hanging over his belt, and his
pants barely hung at what might have been his waist. Several inches of
his ass crack showed above the backside as he bent over to retrieve a
bag. He put the items in the bag and collected the money I had laid on
the counter, leering at my chest the whole time, which, try as I might,
I could not keep from swinging back and forth with every movement I
made. When I went to reach for the bag he pulled it away.

"I'll let you have them for free if I can watch."

I started, then stared at the man. He still didn't look at my face,
but at my chest.

"You don't have enough money here." He said, and I looked at the
register. The total was only about thirty cents more than I had given
him, but he was right. That was all the money I had.

"It's... It's for my boyfriend." I stammered.

"Aww, come on." He smiled, placing the bag out of my reach. "Just
a little peek." He said, reaching out to touch my breast.

I froze. This was happening again, I couldn't believe it. It was
as if all I had to do was show a little skin and men were all over me. I
had had a lot of men hit on me before, but I could always confidently
put them off with a curt 'No.' but today, as nervous and exposed as I
was I felt as if I was being rolled over by every man I ran into.
Knowing that he could see the explicit contours of my body, my breasts,
my nipples paralyzed me as he ran his uncouth eyes over me. I had
bought this dress for Mickey, and at one time was proud of it, but now,
without underwear or stockings it made me feel cheap. This man was
treating me like I had worn it for him, so he could see and be tempted
by my body.

His hand reached my chest, and he started to gently fondle, then
squeeze my left breast. I stood there and let him, hoping he would be
satisfied and let me go , hopefully with the glycerin and the razor.
After the indignities with the boys in the swimwear shop and Evan this
hardly seemed worth worrying about, but the burning knot in my tummy was
there all the same.

He continued to grope me, this time with both hands, "So what do you
say?" he asked.

I looked at him, still frozen, but managed to plead, "Isn't this
enough?"

He smiled, but shook his head, "I wanna see 'em."

I looked around, but the store was deserted. From this position I
could see the street and the passing cars, but the pedestrians were too
far away to notice anything. The problem was that in order to show him
my chest I would have to show him everything, since the dress could only
be pulled up over my head. How could I let this man make me do this.
Why I didn't run screaming I don't know, but I was terrified, half naked
and just being around this man, with the bitter taste of semen in my
mouth made me feel like somehow I deserved this. Perhaps for letting
that other boy made me be unfaithful to Mickey, or for hurting Evan. I
set my purse down on the counter and hesitantly started to hike my skirt
up. Inch by inch I revealed to that towering that I wasn't wearing any
underwear. My pussy and thighs were still wet with the stranger's
splattered sperm and my own juices. But I couldn't go any further, my
hand shot down to cover myself, my middle finger instinctively pressing
hard against my clitoris, "I can't" I murmured.

Grabbing a firm hold of my chest which he still fondled he leaned
over the counter, pulling me towards him. I could smell the beer he had been
drinking, and the thick scent of stale cigarettes and his slight BO.
His face next to mine he kissed me, and pushed his tongue in my mouth,
moving one hand down to grope my behind. He pulled the skirt up, and I
let him do it, I even started to kiss him back, sort of pretending that
it was Mickey in the morning after a party, but his scratchy stubble and
forceful lips were nothing like Mickey. I guess he was trying to seduce
me, in his own crude way, but I was so scared at that point that I would
have let him strip me naked right there.

I felt my skirt come up over my waist, as the kissing continued, on
and
on. He pushed his hand back down to grope me some more. His searching
fingers found my slit, still wet from the indignities with Evan, and he
started to poke and prod, "Hmm, like it eh?" He mumbled in between
forcing his rough tongue into my mouth and sucking on my wide lips,
thinking his groping had gotten me wet. "Well?" he asked, stroking his
thumb over one of my hard nipples.

Not wanting to offend him and risk having to walk out with nothing
after letting him grope and kiss me I lied, "Yes."

Suddenly he pulled me up onto the counter, lifting me like I was
weightless. He yanked the skirt up, all the way up past my breasts
pulling me headlong on my back across the counter where my legs stuck
out into space and my head hung freely over his side of the counter.
One hand was groping me forcefully between my thighs, pushing a finger
deep inside me, the other he used to pick up one of my large breasts
which he started to suck on, my face being smothered with his arm as he
pushed down on me, my legs kicking air.

"What if someone comes in?" I asked his round sweaty abdomen.

He released his sucking grip on my nipple, "No one ever comes in
here. You're the second customer I've had all shift."

My reaction was both dismay and fear. If no one came in that meant
he could do things to me for as long as he liked, but at the same time it
would spare me the indignity of being seen submitting to a fat oaf.

He continued groping and sucking on me for a long while, switching
between breasts, jamming his fingers painfully into me, but as I am well
conditioned to do when nervous or scared, I remained wet for him, and in
fact got even more so.

He obviously had a thing for breasts, because he spent so much time
sucking at my large puffy nipples which were swollen and red after a few
moments of his rough sucking. They stuck up, erect as much from fear as
having blood sucked up into them and were therefor extremely sensitive.
He fucked me so hard with his fingers the whole time that I had to bring
up my hand, and show him how to do it softly, "It feels better like
this." I half pleaded, and he finally listened, lightening his touch,
rubbing me in circles and pushing on the edges of my vagina like I do to
myself when I masturbate. After a few minutes of that I started to
come.

I know that seems odd, to have an orgasm when you are being raped, but
he wasn't brutal, he seemed to genuinely want to please me, and as I
mentioned earlier I was in the habit of touching myself like that when I
was scared or feeling small. Given my situation I wasn't at all
surprised, and I embraced the coming orgasm, knowing the blissful
numbness it would bring.

It was little at first, but in a few minutes I was screaming and
gasping, basking in the numbness and the lack of awareness, rocking up
and down as this smelly beast pawed at me with his rough hands, using me
for his perverted kicks. My whole world tunneled down to a hot flush in
my groin and his rough but gentle fingers.

"In a few years," he was saying after I had started to relax again,
the afterglow fading like the sheets being ripped off of me first thing on a
cold morning, "these are gonna sag." He was licking my breasts, kissing
and sucking on them. "You'll get stretch marks, and no one will want
you."

I don't know why he was talking. I guess he was trying to make me
feel pretty, but his crude comments made me feel even more like a piece of
meat, only to be judged by the quality of my flesh.

He stopped suddenly, lifting away from me, and the last vestiges of
the warmth and numbness splintered around me as I looked up and saw his
slobbering mouth, his triple chin and his vast acres of beer swollen gut
hanging over me. I grabbed his hand as he started to pull it out of me
and cried, "Don't!"

"Relax baby." He said, "I'm gonna give you something better."

With that he pulled on one leg, spinning me around on the counter,
condiments and counter racks flying onto the floor as my legs hit them
on the narrow space. He kept on arm protectively on my head to keep me
from hitting the cash register. He sat me up and pulled the dress off
my head and arms and pushing my legs apart, set himself between them.

"No, I want your hand!" I barked, grabbing his hands as he started
to unbuckle his belt.

He smiled and pushed me down onto my back with no effort. I stayed
where he put me, but had to lift my legs up to keep my back from arching
painfully.

"I have a boyfriend." I whimpered, "We're engaged." But my legs
wrapped around his waist and he let me go, his hands lifting my breasts
as they slid to my sides.

"After all this you're worried about sleepin around?" he gestured at
my naked body laying spread eagle before him, his fingers smearing my
juices across my hard erect nipple, my chest still heaving slightly and
beat red from the orgasms. He ran his other hand along the length of my
leg which wrapped around him.

I looked up at this giant man, his hairy belly sticking out from
under his shirt, his whiskered weather beaten face leering down at me, I could
smell the beer again, feel his great callused hands with dirty
fingernails as the spread my legs apart and groped at my labia.

"You're wet as hell, you were practically beggin for it a minute
ago." He said, but I have never derived pleasure from sex. It has always been
something to put up with for loves sake, and often painful. This
thought of giving myself over to some ugly stranger who was 20 years
older than me in that way filled me with horror and revulsion. This was
not a clean young man like Mickey or even Evan or the stranger in the
dressing room. This was a filthy old brute. My vagina was already sore
from the pounding he had given it and my clitoris was sensitive from the
orgasms he had given me.

Given me...

Was I being selfish to deny him the pleasure he had given me.

But no, that wasn't pleasure, that was a necessary escape from the
indignity that was bring forced upon me. I owed nothing to this man, he
had forced his will on me and used me like a doll.

"You can't!" I ordered.

But he was there anyway. Pushing himself inside me. He was thick,
and it hurt, but I was wet, very wet, and he had no trouble burying himself
to the hilt as he held me down with one strong arm, my struggles under
his weight were pointless. He started thrusting in and out of me like I
was the cylinder for his piston, his mass spreading me apart and filling
me up. I bucked and kicked, trying to get my legs higher and wider so
as to lessen the massive presence inside me, often wrapping them tightly
around him by accident and being rewarded with another deep, engulfing
thrust. The whole time I could feel my juices running down my cheeks as
I pushed out more lubrication the more scared I became. If he came
inside me, what diseases he might have, how could I face Mickey? I
wanted to reach down and finger myself, to make my escape, but I knew
that that would make me come, and how would I ever face Mickey knowing I
had surrendered myself to the relentless pummeling of this bohemian oaf.

"I always wanted to do one of you goth girls." He grunted in
between thrusts. "You're so pretty, but so stuck up. I always knew you were
sluts."

"I'm not a slut." I grunted back as he pushed his thing even
further, his hands pushing my legs higher and lifting my ass off the ground.

"What do you mean, slut? I'm fucking you ain't I?"

"You're raping me!" I screamed, but he slapped a hand on my mouth
and pushed me down as I tried to sit up again.

He pushed himself all the way in me and pulled my face close to his
heaving gasping maw. He kissed me and whispered into my ear with
spittle and hot air, "You let me grab you. And kiss you," He
punctuating every remark with a deep forceful thrust, causing me to gasp
and heave as his thick girth pushed the walls of my vagina apart, "You
pulled up your little skirt for thirty fucking cents, whore, and then
you let me suck on your big titties. You were the one goin around in
nothing but a dress, letting everything flop around. Now you're letting
me fuck you. That makes you a slut."

He started thrusting again, harder this time, "I'm not a slut." I
murmured.

Things didn't last much longer than that, because before he had
finished he pulled me off the counter and dropped me rudely to his side
of the counter. Then I heard the door open and voices. The guy grabbed
my head on the way down and shoved his thick meaty dick in my face as I
hunkered down behind the counter, tenderly rubbing my aching crotch. He
looked down at me with a frown, twisting the back of my neck painfully.
Like before, I opened my mouth, only this time I leaned forward and took
his cock in my mouth all by myself.

"Slut."

I glared up at him but could do nothing. I was naked, and there
were people in the shop. He pinched me again and I started to move my lips
further over his girth. I was powerless physically over him, and he
wasn't going to let me get away. I knew I couldn't take any more sex
with him, and was racking my head for some way to convince him not to
cum inside me. I started to suck, tasting my own juices on the head of
his thick shaft. I was afraid of what he might do if I didn't behave,
but I was equally as scared of having him cum inside me, or worse, in my
mouth. Would I have to do that again, to take that nasty fluid in my
mouth to keep myself clean. I had few illusions that he might be
willing to wear a condom, even if I could endure more of that awful
stretching and filling.

But my answer came another way. One of the ladies who had come in
couldn't reach a Styrofoam ice cooler on the back shelf. The clerk
looked nervously at me then back at them, trying to persuade them that
they could reach it. Clearly he didn't want to leave me alone, but he
had to concede.

Pulling my head hard, smashing me into his sweaty thick pubic hair I
felt his dick fill up my mouth, spreading my mouth wide. "Stay put,
slut!" he ordered before he left, "So I can finish you off."

Then he smiled at me, and walked around the counter.

When I was in the store I had seen an emergency exit. I didn't
think I had time to put on my dress and make for the main entrance, but if I
made it out the back I could put on my dress and not have to worry about
being seen. I grabbed the dress and the bag with the glycerin and
peeked over the counter and grabbed my purse. I saw the clerk pulling
the cooler off a high shelf on the far side of the store. He looked
back and saw me take my purse but there was nothing he could do. He
started to walk briskly with the cooler back for the counter but I had
already started for the back door.

The last I saw of him was him grimacing as I slammed the door shut
behind me.

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