A Sensual Assault: Part One
The following is based on something real that happened to me. The names are not the same, and some of the actions are embellished, but it is a fictional depiction of an event I experienced. I am not a writer, but wanted to get this out. I want to thank the help of a man here who guided me on how to best write this. He knows who he is.
I'm a dancer and do some training at a local gym. The gym is used by many, not just dancers. Sometimes I work with a partner. We work on intricate movements, choreography or just the basic routines. Other times I'm on my own. I'm slender, not quite petite--my shoulders, abs and thighs are strong from dance--but with my long dark hair and very fair skin, I can appear to be frail. The men who work out at the gym sometimes watch me dance and it doesn't bother me. I am a member of a modern dance company. I'm a performer so I don't mind the attention. I have never been whistled at or heard any lewd comments tossed in my direction at the gym.
In my time there, I've noticed more and more people working on martial arts; kick boxing, and mixed martial arts. Both men and women. I watch them and in a way, their moves are similar to mine. There is a grace to the movements but with added brutal force. I find it fascinating and wonder what makes a woman want to express herself in such a violent way. There is one woman who seems to be on a similar schedule as me. She is there almost always when I'm there. I've seen her work with other women and men and her combination of grace and power is...well I find it enthralling. I'm not sure she notices me watching--she seems consumed, deep in concentration, by her own workout as I am when I am in the middle of my work. She isn't much taller than me, but her shoulders are substantially broader and her muscles defined in her arms, neck, abs and thighs. She grunts when she fights or spars, which I find somewhat sensual. I can't explain why but I do. She has dark brown skin, a few tattoos and piercings, and her hair is braided into tight ropes that fall just below her shoulders. One day we left the gym around the same time. I wanted to say something to her, to tell her I appreciate her workouts, but I kept quiet. I had to admit I was intimidated by her--her strength and power and her serious, almost gruff, demeanor. And watching her sometimes left me breathless--totally enthralled. Maybe it's wrong to say that, but I have to be honest.
It came that whenever I would go to the gym, I would hope to see her. Watching her workout gave me pleasure. And tingles too that I could not explain, but also couldn't deny. After a couple of weeks, though, she didn't show up. It happens. People come and go. I thought nothing of it and just went on with my own workouts.
One cold day after finishing a workout with a friend, we headed outside. She and I live in opposite directions. We said goodbye. I hustled home because it was cold. As I got closer to my apartment, a small studio on the ground floor of a brownstone, I felt someone behind me. I tensed up; this person was very close behind me. There was no one else around on the street. Living in the city as long as I have, I knew this was not normal. I put my hand into my coat pocket looking for my pepper spray and quickly realized I had thrown it out. It had dried up. I meant to get a new one but never did. Instead I grabbed my keys. I just wanted to get inside, close and lock my door. My hand shook as I put the key in the lock, but I was able to open it. As I stepped inside I was pushed hard from behind. The force of the push knocked me down on the floor of my apartment foyer. I heard the door slam behind me, I turned around onto my back quickly. A figure in a black hoodie and baggy sweat pants with a black mask stood over me. I heard the door slam and I started to rise up but was pushed back again, pinned tight by a strong body.
"Please...no...take what you want," I cried out. "I have some money and jewelry."
But there was no response. The body on me was instead pushing at my clothes. Grabbing my sweatshirt and tugging it up.
"No...no... Please...don't!" I feared the worst.
All I heard was hard breathing through the mask. I started to kick and fight back now, but my hands were grabbed hard and pushed back. I thrashed up. A hand was on my torso and I heard my thin tank top rip--shredded. I was naked top up and then person pushed at my sweat pants, pulling them down my legs. I kicked more, but I was tiring. I feared what was about to happen and started to cry. I felt a hand on my panties. And a rip. This was it. I was about to be raped. I didn't know what to do. Maybe if I didn't resist. If I lay lifeless they would stop. Maybe they would go away. I tried that though I was quietly sobbing. I felt a strong hand between my thighs. Gripping my sex. The mask was still on and the face was covered. And then I saw my rapist take the mask off and only saw lips. Full red lips around a dark face. The strong body was on me, straddling my hips tightly. I closed my eyes tightly. I couldn't look. I didn't want to see what was going to happen to me. I waited. Breathing hard. Praying it would be over fast...or maybe I would be spared. And then I felt something wet between my thighs. I opened my eyes and lifted my head up to see. This person's head was buried between my thighs and its tongue was furiously fluttering over my labia. And then pressing down on my clit. I was confused. I tried to scamper up and away put those strong hands pinned me down. I couldn't move.
As that tongue swiped faster at me, my breathing got even more frantic. But now it was something else I was feeling. Something deep in my core. I'd been with women who were very skilled at oral sex, but this was nothing like that. This was primal. This was savage. And to my humiliating shame, realized it was fucking arousing me. I no longer resisted. I let that tongue invade me. Fuck me. Devour me. I wanted it like nothing I ever wanted before. I was breathing hard. Moaning loud. My hand reached for the head between my thighs pushing it down, but when I made contact that tongue stopped doing what it was doing.
I was so close to cumming, I cried out. "Oh god no. Don't stop. Please don't." I was frantic. My eyes were wide, wild as I stared at the hoodie-covered head.
I watched as my assaulter pulled the hoodie down. "Oh my god," I cried, my eyes taking in what I was seeing. Those tight intricate braids. And then the familiar tattoo on the neck. The broad shoulders and strong arms. "What??? You???"