It has been exactly 14 years since it happened. I am Kristen, I am 29 years old today, a successful entrepreneur, I have a boyfriend, and if everything goes well, we will have children in the future with my boyfriend.
To perhaps return to what happened to me when I was 15. I have never, I repeat never, talked about it to anyone, I was always afraid of it, and honestly, I still fear it sometimes today. When we graduated eight years ago, I mean the whole class from elementary school, we already knew where we would scatter to, at that time I still didn’t know exactly what I wanted to be in a few years, so I went to business school forced by my parents.
What I want to talk about is how I was raped after finishing elementary school. I don’t know what caused it, maybe because I was a nerd, because I was ambitious, or if I ever hurt them in some way, but otherwise, I can’t explain it. I wasn’t particularly outstanding, I was a small, petite girl, about 164 cm tall, slim, and my breasts, I would say for sure, fit in the palm of my hand.
Although I dressed provocatively, white tight jeans, mini skirts, tight shirts halfway up my waist, but that was perhaps normal, in short, I will never find out the real reason.
Nevertheless, it started very innocently, when we all zigzagged and finally got away, as probably every class does, there was a big farewell party. At the last minute, they let me know that it was happening somewhere by the river, at someone’s cottage, the girls took me there later.
We all came there, all dressed up. Because of that, especially because of the boy I liked at the time, I dressed up extra. And it started. The music was playing as loud as possible, not hearing each other over the roar of the music, we drank, when the sun was already setting behind us, no one around. Peace, silence, and solitude.
Occasionally, when it was just a little possible, we heard the murmur of the river. Beautiful.
Then suddenly I was standing there alone. I looked around and the girls were talking with some boys by the cottage, as if they were assigning tasks. The boys seemed emotionless to me, with anger in their faces, that evening I felt strangely chilled, but if only I had guessed.
The music stopped, with a small nod of the head one to another, the boys slowly approached me. They grabbed me with force, nothing happened, after a few drinks, I took it all as a joke. Then they dragged me to the cottage, the only one who still didn’t understand it and laughed at it, was me.
Unsuspecting, with a smile on my lips, I let myself be pulled into the cottage. Someone locked the door, pulled the curtain, everything was unnecessary, no one was there. Nowhere.
They threw me on the sofa, through their icy looks, which were fixed on me, I sobered up like never before. “What’s going on?” – I asked in a frightened tone – “What’s this about?” Chilling looks pierced me like knives, my heart rate increased, a chill ran through my body and I just managed to swallow when a fist flew into my nose from my best friend.
Screaming didn’t change anything, neither crying nor trying to escape. As if nailed down by the strength of the boys on the couch, I endured punches and kicks, there was nowhere to dodge.
Then they started tearing off my clothes, cutting everything possible with a knife. When everything was done, I fell on all fours in front of the couch from exhaustion. I felt helpless. Naked, humiliated, covered in blood and drowning in my own tears, I still felt, even with my head down, their mindlessly staring eyes.
The girls grabbed me, by then I had no strength left to cry, by the neck, by the arms, and threw me on the couch, with the last strength I had left, I tried to get out of the position they put me in.
They spread my legs, with the brutality that stretched them, I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore, they started hitting my pussy. Sometimes with an open palm, sometimes with a closed one. Then they moved over my belly and when they got to my breasts, they started slapping them too.
The pain was unbelievable and I already thought I didn’t feel it and that it would be over, the boys joined in. All the boys took off their pants, under them I could clearly see on their briefs that they had erections.
They took off their underwear and went to hold me. It was clear to me what would happen. The girls also started undressing. Then they all pounced on me, like a rubber doll, I still had to turn according to their wishes. They turned me on my stomach.
The girls spread my ass apart and started massively shoving their fingers into my hole, my wailing didn’t stop them, on the contrary, they continued and harder. Like animals, like the biggest pigs, they prepared me. At that time I was still… a virgin. And that made it worse.
I was preparing for a boy who would deserve it and instead, Peter entered me. The fattest, the most disgusting, the most sadistic boy from our class. He always bullied everyone.
He deliberately turned me on my back, started licking me disgustingly, moved from my belly, over my nipples, neck, and got to my lips, where he tried to shove his tongue, when he knew that only with a crowbar could he open my mouth, he continued over my whole face.
With an incredibly perverted smile, over my increasing screams and attempts to escape, he hit me hard in the stomach. It subdued me a little, almost knocked the breath out of me and my – “No, please.” – Was already carried away by the wind into oblivion.
Despite that, he stretched like a slingshot and when he aimed, with brutal force he shoved it into me. I screamed again. I screamed at the top of my lungs, swore, and cried, in vain. That pig shoved it into me more and more.
After just a few repeated movements, that bastard came, pulled it out of me and ejaculated on my belly, he was all covered in blood and with the words: “Damn,” – he stepped in front of the others – “fuck me, she’s still a virgin!”
He got dressed and went outside, I don’t know where he went, but it was like that with everyone, gradually, whoever had his way with me, left. The next one approached, who came after a few minutes, then another, who came after half an hour, which was very unpleasant.
But the most unpleasant was when my whole body was covered in blood, sperm, and spit. Everyone licked me, everyone groped me, but the one who made me cry the most was him. The one I was, kind of, in love with.
“Martin, please, you don’t have to, I loved you!”
Even though I uttered what I was holding inside, it didn’t help. In that incredible weakness, when I only had the strength to cry, when my body was just a limp piece of rag, he lifted me like a corpse and when I believed for a fraction of a second that he would take me away, he threw me back on my stomach with force.
He wrapped my hair around his hand and jerked it sharply. In an incredible spasm that I felt, he forced me to turn so that I would look him in the face. The pain forced me to close my eyes, but whenever it was possible, he shoved it into me.
The insane pain came only after he slowly pushed it into my hole. For his age, he wasn’t small and I never had anything bigger than a middle finger in there. It started again – wailing, tears, screaming, begging, and pain.
He shoved it in there, but it didn’t want to go in at all, but it was also visible on his face. An angrily twisted face. The pain when he slowly put it in there was unbelievable, really incomparable to anything, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I noticed, just fleetingly, the girls leaving, the boys are gone, everyone is disappearing, only me and Martin, who is halfway there because of the pain.
But then he just angrily shouted that he didn’t care, he pulled it out. Unfortunately. Unexpectedly, the pain returned. Bigger. He pulled me by the hair again, my back cracked, I couldn’t breathe and just with the words – “watch, bitch” – he shoved his cock into me several times in a row, harder and faster. He got in there. He got what he wanted. Everything.
He then came in my mouth as the only one.
When everything was done, he started slapping me, started forcing me to lick his ass and balls. I fulfilled everything.
Then he grabbed me by the hair, despite all that, naked, in pain, he led me outside, where he threw me on the grass, got dressed, kicked me, and told the girls – She’s yours.
That evening, the girls beat me unrecognizable. They kicked, scratched, punched, slapped, and cut my hair. They left me lying there, got dressed, and left, like the boys. I really didn’t understand why, why did they do this to me?
When I didn’t come home, my parents came for me, found me on the grass in front of another cottage, about 3 kilometers away from ours.
I lay in the hospital for a month, 3 years after that, therapy. Even though it was dealt with by the police, I didn’t say anything, only that I went for a walk and someone attacked me and did this to me. My statement didn’t seem very convincing to them, but it was enough. I was afraid. So I didn’t say anything.
Until I was twenty, I took pills, things were already looking better. We moved away.
What was worse, why I’m writing all this to you here, is that at twenty I met the one, we’re still together, but I don’t know how to keep it all together when I met one of the men from that night on the street…