I want to tell you about a terrible experience I had several years ago. Even though someone might say it was a long time ago, I still remember every detail. Sometimes it comes back to me in dreams, and I wake up in horror. I was raped.
It all started at the swimming pool, a place I used to love going to until that fateful day in the summer. That year, I had bought a new swimsuit and had managed to tone my body nicely at the gym since winter, so I was showing off like a queen, tanning beautifully and applying oil. And exactly this is what backfired on me.
After a few days of that summer, I realized that I kept running into this guy seemingly by chance—I’d go to the restroom, and he’d be standing by the exit; I’d get out of the pool, and he’d be sitting there; I’d buy an ice cream, and he’d be leaning on the counter next to me…
Coincidences, I told myself, but I was careful. And indeed, I caught him many times staring at me with his strangely piercing eyes. He’d sometimes even stared at me with his mouth open. Overall, he didn’t seem particularly repulsive, but he wasn’t my idol either.
He had a hairy chest and strong arms, and I noticed that when he looked at me, his swimsuit would bulge suggestively. I always tried to move to a different spot or go with my friends, but even that didn’t deter him. It made me very uncomfortable, and I even stopped going to the pool.
But then one evening, as I was walking home and passing by some tall bushes, his heavy hand suddenly fell on my shoulder. I wanted to scream, but he grabbed me and covered my mouth with his hand. I admit that at that moment, I would have done anything he asked, just so he would let me go.
He was relentless and rough, dragging me further between the bushes into a small park with children’s playground equipment. He dragged me to the playground and handcuffed me to the structure. He threatened me that if I made a sound, I would regret it terribly. I was terrified. Then he took off his pants and underwear, and his cock sprang forward.
Even in the dark, I could see how thick and veiny it was. He jerked himself off a few times and walked around me. He started undressing me until I was completely naked. He groped me, then slid his hand down to my pussy, which was completely shaved.
He then ran his fingers over my lips and began exploring my hole with a thick finger. He pulled it out and licked it. It was disgusting.
Then he stood in front of me, grabbed my hair, and forced me to open my mouth. He roughly shoved his cock into my mouth and started thrusting. I started choking, so he pulled it out and, still wet from my saliva, forced it back in.
I could feel his pubic hair as he shoved his cock all the way down my throat. But he didn’t let me smoke for long, and I naively thought he might let me go. But then came the worst part. He positioned himself behind me again and started rubbing his cock against my ass and between my thighs.
It was disgustingly hot and still wet from my saliva. I cried softly and trembled with fear. First, he fucked me in the pussy and whispered to me that it was only to lubricate his cock. Then he focused on my asshole, which was even worse.
First with his finger, which he wet with saliva and shoved into my ass. Then he tried to stretch my back hole. I tried to relax so it wouldn’t hurt as much. He rubbed his cock against my sphincter several times, pressed the tip directly into the hole, and then thrust in. I jumped about half a meter on the ground. He was inside.
It hurt terribly, and he was fucking me dry. He kept groping me lewdly with his hands, and I felt like swarms of disgusting bugs were crawling all over me. He fucked me endlessly. I was sick with disgust, sorrow, and pain, and I felt completely exhausted. When I was almost unconscious, he started speeding up until he finally came. He stayed inside me until he had emptied every last drop, so I had his disgusting cum inside me.
Then he pulled out with a loud smack from my injured ass, unlocked the handcuffs, put on his pants, and cowardly ran away. Meanwhile, I painfully dressed myself and walked the few dozen meters home in tears.
I didn’t call the police; I was afraid he might find out and lie in wait for me again.