A Touch of Revenge Redux

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This is a repost trying to improve writing skills.

I got this idea from a Literotica Story called "A Touch of Revenge"

https://www.literotica.com/s/a-touch-of-revenge

by Poohive. I sent an email to him and never heard back. His Last post was in 2009.

You must read his story first to understand this one. In the original story is, under BDSM, she has him raped, and this is very graphic. He planned on marrying her, so I put it in loving wives.

There is no

rape

or

sex

in this story, unlike the first. In Julie's mind, he did it. In his mind, he didn't. But he apologizes in any way. He tells the story of the aftermath.

First, I want to tell you all rapists should be castrated. But with that said, if a person is falsely accused of rape, their accuser should serve the same time they would have had to serve if convicted of the crime. You noticed I use the gender-neutral comments.

Remember, this is a story and fiction, not real, except for the couple parts about the young men that were accused of rape.

I put her thoughts in italicized sentences to separate them from the letter.

I assumed they were not married. They never said. In my version, he was going to marry her but hadn't asked yet. They never gave her name first or last name. I made it up.

Don't bitch about the Grammar. This is my style of writing.

A touch of Revenge

The Apology Letter.

Just north of Atlanta, Georga sits the city of Alpharetta. It's just a short 26-mile drive up State Hwy 400 from downtown. Once a sleepy little country town founded in the 1850s. It was sleepy until the 1980s when it boomed during the 1970 -1980 recession. During the '80s, companies by the thousands were failing up north in the rust belt. Atlanta was booming with new business.

Atlanta had everything a city needed to attract the largest of the Fortune 500 hundred businesses. With low taxes and a major International Airport, it was an international hub for new businesses. And with it came the population explosion that overwhelmed Atlanta's transportation and freeway system. In the 1980s, the population in Alpharetta was a mere 3,128 back them. Now in 2020, it has reached 70,000 people.

We used to say that we wished Sherman had blown up all the bridges between Ohio and Georgia when he started his march through Georgia to the sea. During the recession, it seemed like every day, a thousand new U-Hauls with Ohio tags appeared in the city.

It was a beautiful spring day. The locals were using Alpharetta's city park to enjoy the weather before the oppressive summer heat and humidity took over.

The park sits in the center of the town across from the public courthouse and takes up one square block in size. The locals hang out on Saturday morning to enjoy their overpriced coffees.

It has a big gazebo sitting in the center of the park where musicians would have concerts for the locals. At that gazebo, you could often see wedding photographers taking pictures of wedding parties.

Massive White Oak trees surround it, over two hundred years old. The trees were all planted in the 1850s when the city was founded.

A beautiful young red-headed woman sat at one of the benches enjoying her Saturday morning Starbuck latte and reading the latest bestseller from her iPad.

"Ms. Stancil. Ms. Julie Stancil." She looked up to see a good-dressed middle-aged man standing before her. "Excuse me. Are you Ms. Julie Stancil?" enquired the man smiling at her.

She looked at him, evaluating his features. He didn't seem threatening. And besides, two local police officers were sitting at the table only a few feet away.

"Yes, am I," she replied.

"Ma'am, I am Mark Snyder. I work for the law firm of Byers, Lansky, and Goldstein. May I please sit?"

She waved her hand that indicated he could sit in front of her.

"Ms. Stancil, we were tasked with finding you for our deceased client. He commissioned us to deliver this envelope to you. It contains a cashier's check made out to you for a sum of $3,341 .22. Also inside, you will find a 2-carat diamond engagement ring, along with a letter.

There are no strings attached. Suppose you choose not to accept the contents. We will sell the ring, and the cashier's check will be cashed. The money will be donated to a local women's rape organization."

Julie said, "No, I will take it. But, if I don't want it, I will give the proceeds to my chosen charity."

"Well, all you need to do is show me your identification, then inspect the contents for accuracy," explained the man. He handed her the envelope once she pulled out her driver's license to verify her identity.

"Damn envelopes," she thought to herself. The envelope wouldn't tear open with her bare hands. Then, finding a nail file in her purse, she poked a hole in it and managed to rip it open.

She reached in the envelope and pulled out a cashier's check made out to her. Next, she took out a diamond engagement ring with a receipt and a letter-size envelope.

After confirming its contents, she signed the documentation that shows she had received the abovementioned items. Finally, the man stood up, told her to have a nice day, and left.

She took the ring out of the little box. And place it on her left hand. It was a perfect fit. It was a large diamond mounted on a gold band.

She stuck the cashier's check in her purse. She then took the envelope and removed the letter inside.

She unfolded the tri-folded paper. Unfortunately, it was upside down, so she had to turn it over to read it.

Dear Julie,

I hope this letter reaches you with you being in good health. I am glad you moved on. I hope you are doing well in your life since the last time we saw each other.

She realized it was from Bruce. The bastard himself, she thought.

I wanted to apologize for the terrible thing I did. Not only did I betray your trust, but I turned you into something totally out of character for you. I'm sure there will be a special place in hell for me when I arrive in a short while.

I'm sick now, and a lovely lady has agreed to write this for me. You have to admit she has beautiful handwriting. Unfortunately, I am so weak now I can barely move my arms.

I discussed the contents of this letter with her in advance. And she agreed to write it as dictated to her. I am very ashamed of what I am about to admit to doing. And I have already apologized to her for this letter's vulgarity.

To put it bluntly, yes, I raped you that night. You told me, "NO," and I didn't stop. My lust for you drove me to it. Do you know what's really funny? I never thought much about anal before that day. I was happy with what I was getting from you.

I was at lunch that day with Paul and a couple of my other friends when they started talking about anal and how much their girlfriends liked it. I knew you were adventurous, and you are usually up for any new games.

Since it was my birthday, I thought it would be a gift for both of us. One thing for sure now, I wish I had discussed it a little more with you and had done a lot more research.

You sucked me into your little scheme. I never expected it at all. I thought you had forgiven me, and everything was as before.

Julie smiled, smirked, and laughed as she remembered how she sat Bruce up. The Little Bastard.

Well, you left me tied up to the bed and left my condo. That's when your friend called some friends to come over and get some fresh ass. That ass being mine. He told me you didn't want to see the rest of it after the first time. But make sure I got everything I deserved.

About an hour after you left, six of his friends showed up and took me for hours on end.

Julie got wide-eyed, and she felt the blood rushing to her head. "What the fuck!" she yelled out." The two police officers turned toward her with scowled looks. "Sorry," she told them. "I just received some disturbing news."

Unlike you, they didn't use a lubricant. Instead, your friend used my blood from my ass as WD-40. They stuck a sock in my mouth to muffle my screams. I went in and out of consciousness for hours.

Finally, I woke up when they dumped cold water on me. I didn't know what time it was, but I could tell it was still dark through the blinds. I had thrown up from the pain. I was lying in bed, soaked in my vomit.

Julie wasn't laughing anymore as she read on. Instead, her stomach knotted as she read. What they did was not part of the ingenious plan she had.

You saved the last bit of the piece de resistance as the best. That last black man showed up with a 13-and-a-half-inch dick that was 4 inches in diameter. He took me to another level even after the others were gaping at me. Finally, I passed out and awoke 5-days later in the hospital.

Julie read on, fearing what she would read further in the letter. She wanted to turn to yell for help. But no one could help now.

It seemed that Paul found me handcuffed to the bed two days after your birthday. He had tried calling me and you for two days before coming to my apartment to see if something was wrong. Paul told me later that he had tried repeatedly to get ahold of you.

After trying for three days without an answer, the system informed Paul that his number was disconnected. When he found me, my blood pressure had fallen so low from blood loss that Paul couldn't find a pulse. They later told me it took twelve pints of blood before they could get my bleeding stopped.

Julie remembered Paul blowing up her old phone before she got a new one.

I learned something that day. If the body loses enough blood, the body redirects what is remaining to the parts needed to keep you alive at that moment. It seemed my body did not need my bowels at that moment to survive. Instead, it shuts down blood flow to other extremities and other non-life-sustaining organs.

My colon was dying because of the tears in the lining. Then the infections from the feces set in. They did their best to save it. But nothing they did worked. I will have to wear a colostomy bag for the rest of my life which won't be long now. I was in the hospital for three months, trying to recuperate. It took a long time to heal because of the blood loss.

A tear ran down Julie's face.

The police interviewed me about the incident. But I refused to talk because it would have meant jail time for you. I got exactly what I deserved. Paul thought I was some sick son-of-bitch because I refused to speak to them about it. He figured I was into some gay BDSM that went bad. Paul never wanted to see me again.

He also figured you found out about it and didn't want to have anything to do with me again and ran. So in less than a week., I lost the love of my life. My best lifelong friend. And my intestines because of my stupidity.

I had a lot of free time lying in bed trying to recover from my surgery to think about us and our life together. But, you know I always had trouble understanding what you meant when you said, "no, stop, and quit." You kept me constantly trying to guess what you meant.

When I got to college, we were indoctrinated on male toxicity on campus. The faculty taught us that at any point, the words stop, quit, or a woman uses no; we stop and pull away until given permission to start again.

We knew never to touch a girl when she was drinking. Even if the man was drunker than her, she took advantage of him. The man would be guilty of rape if she accused him of it.

Even the accusation would get you removed from school. I was taught, don't stare, admire, or gaze too long at a girl. Those actions could be considered sexual harassment. I became terrified of you girls and did my best to stay away from you.

Do you remember the first night we met in college at a party? You were standing there with your long red hair smiling and laughing with your friend Beth. You wore skin-tight jeans and a t-shirt that showed no doubt about your breast size. My hormones finally overwrote the programming in my head, saying, "Stay away." So instead, I decided to take a chance.

I asked you to dance. You said "NO," staring at me right in the eyes. So I said, "Thank you," and turned to walk away.

You grabbed my arm and told me to stop. Then, you giggled at me and said, "Let's dance."

I was confused and asked why you said "NO." You told me you wanted to see what kind of line I would use on you to try to convince you to dance with me. But since I was so cute, you would dance with me anyway.

We had a lot of fun that night, I finally. I got the nerve to ask you out. You said, "NO," you didn't have the time. So I said ok, thanked you for a great night, and left.

Three days later, I was in the library studying, and you showed up at my table. You wanted to know I hadn't called. I told you, "You said NO."

You just laughed at me and said, "Don't you know, silly, a girl wants to be chased." So you told me to pick you up at 7 o'clock that Friday night.

I was scared to death to even talk to a girl on campus. It was because of all the sexual harassment training. I knew I could be kicked out of school if I did anything wrong. Just the accusation was enough to have me expelled.

Do you remember you finally becoming so exasperated at me not kissing you? Then, finally, you grabbed me in front of everyone in the hallway. And you kissed me.

We dated for six months had I still hadn't even tried to get to first base. So one night, I placed my hand on your breast tentatively. You removed it and said, "QUIT." For the next two months, I never tried anything. Finally, one night, you got pissed and asked me if I would ever try to touch your breast again.

I told you I tried. And you told me to "QUIT" and not to touch you there.

You then scoffed at me and said, "Silly, I didn't mean forever." So after a few months, I got my hands into your shirt.

Julie was smiling, remembering Bruce's clumsy hands as he tried to unfasten her bra.

A month later, we had gone to another party, and you had gotten drunk. So I took you back to your dorm room, where you asked me to make love to you. And I refused and said "NO."

You got super pissed off at me for turning you down. So I tried to explain that if we had sex, it would have been considered rape. And I could go to prison.

You then threatened me. You told me, "If I didn't man up, you would find a real man that could." I told you about the boy who just woke up in bed with a drunk girl from the previous night. She had gotten lost and ended up in his bed while he was asleep. He had never seen her before.

She accused him of rape. And even though the rape kit showed no sex, the DA refused to press charges. The college threw him out without cause, and the girl followed him and posted on Facebook that he was a rapist. He eventually killed himself from the harassment.

Julie smiled. She never went out with anyone else. It was then Julie realized Paul could be trusted to protect her. Jule was really embarrassed about the way she had treated him. She knew he was a keeper.

You didn't call me for a week after that. Then, one day you showed up as if nothing had happened. But I think you apologized in your way by giving me a long passionate kiss.

Things progressed over the next few months. I finally got my hands down on your pants one night in the car. You screamed for me to "STOP" and pulled away from me.

So I stopped and started buttoning my shirt back up, but then you attacked me. You unbuckled my pants. I tried to protest. So I could talk to you about it first, but you didn't "STOP." So I got, and you gave your first blowjob that night.

A month later, we were naked in your room. I slowly kissed down your body until I arrived at your pussy. Not knowing what I was doing at the time. I latched on to your clit and started sucking it as hard as possible.

You started yelling at me to "QUIT," so I did. You then yelled at me for "STOPPING," grabbed my ears, pulled my face back into you by force, and said, "Keep doing it. Just don't suck so hard."

I talked to my friend Paul about our no, quit, stop problem. He warned me when in doubt, just quit all activities. Unless I wanted to end up as Bubbas' bitch in prison.

Next came the night we both lost our virginity. I slowly inserted it into you, and you said it hurt and to "STOP." So I yanked it out. And you screamed at me.

You wanted me to "Stop" so you could get used to it, not to "QUIT." You were driving me crazy.

A couple of months later, I was pestering you for a little loving. You kept telling me to "STOP and QUIT." Finally, you said "NO" means "NO" and threw me out. That cost me a dozen roses to get back in your good graces.

But a couple of weeks later, I was studying for finals in Physics. I needed a B to graduate. I had studied all weekend for that test. You came over and told me wanted, some now. I said sorry, but I had to study. I was doing this for our future. You kept grabbing me when I reminded you that "NO" means "NO." You stormed out and threatened to find someone else.

A week later, I sent you flowers, showed you my A, and asked for your forgiveness. I never understood why it is ok for women to reject the advances of men, but not the other way around. So I never denied you again. To this day, I do not know if you cheated on me those times.

Julie gasped and shook her head no and mumbled, "No."

How often did I make love to you, and you told me to "STOP" or "QUIT" what I was doing? And you didn't mean for me to "STOP" or "QUIT" doing what I was doing.

I got where I would just ask if I could do something every time. That pissed you off even more. Then, finally, you said, as a man, I should just know these things. You forgot I wasn't really a man yet. I was just learning how to make love to a woman. So I finally learned to read your body language to help me figure out what you wanted.

I chuckle to myself about the time you yelled at me to "STOP," I pulled out that instant, and I hit you in the face with cum. You said you didn't want me to "STOP." You just wanted to feel me pulsing in you. It wasn't the cum you were pissed off about; I ruined your orgasm.

Julie remembered that and giggled also. He was always so concerned about her.

After we graduated, we got into more kinky things and a little light BDSM. I had trouble processing hurting you in any way. You would yell for me to "STOP," and I would "STOP."

You would get pissed and call me a pussy. And then there was that time I didn't "STOP," and I hurt you. You didn't talk to me for a month. That cost me a gold necklace.

We finally read up on the subject, which seemed to fix everything after that night. 99% of the time, I just took you. I became stronger and a more attuned lover for you until I wasn't. Again I am sorry.

I heard you say many times that a person died a miserable death and hoped they went to hell if they ever raped a woman.

Well, I guess I will make your wish come true for me. One of the men that raped me had HIV.

Julie gasped at Bruce's words

I lost my job and insurance when I stayed in the hospital so long because of the attack. I finally got my job back, but I was broke and owed the hospital close to a million dollars. I sold my condo. I had to move to a small, efficient apartment to save money.

My old company hired me back but only has a contractor. That meant no insurance. Rumors got around that I was into some really kinky gay shit. So I just worked from home, so I didn't have to be around anyone. That went well until a year later, when I came down with a cold that transformed into pneumonia.

That's when the doctor informed me I had full-blown Aids. It hit me pretty hard. They thought it happened quickly because my immunity was still in a weakened state from my colon was removed. And I bet you're laughing now.