The following very dark story has themes of non-consent sex, humiliation, abuse and other dark themes. If such content offends you, please do not read. This is erotic FICTION not meant as any sort of gender, political or societal protest. This is purely for entertainment and not meant to happen in reality. If you have issues with such kinks, please do not read.
"Just calm down, Betty. It's been nearly three years," I tell myself as I walk along the chain link fence that borders the neighborhood pool. A shiver of nervousness runs over me as I walk through the gate and see the large pool in front of me, as well as the clubhouse to the side and all the people.
"You are safe," I remind myself as I walk further in. None notice me, even if I am damn near terrified. Everyone is in their own world with kids playing together, parents playing with kids, men trying to show off and various women acting like they are sunbathing when they are actually flaunting their bodies. Especially the middle-aged women.
Walking along the pool, I pretend to be looking for an empty chair to sit at. What I am actually doing is trying to calm myself down and not run out of here. To get comfortable with being at the pool again after what happened.
Wearing a one-piece bathing suit with a large towel wrapped around me like an underarm dress, I walk slowly, hoping I don't look like a ball of nerves. You see, several years ago I came here after I took my freshmen college finals, much like I did today, only I'm a senior now. That fateful day, after I got in the water to celebrate, a man raped me.
I was standing by myself in the pool when he came up behind me. There he threatened me, warning me not to look behind, or else. Scared for my life I stood there, surrounded by people as the man stripped me of my bikini, fondled me, then pinned me to the side and raped me.
No one saw what happened even if there were tons of people around. No one noticed my plight. No one saw the life changing event. To this day I think that's why the man did what he did, because he knew he could get away with it.
For months I dreamt and relived what happened. Reliving how he pulled my bikini bottoms off under the water, then played with my pussy. How he pulled off my top and fondled my breasts. And most of all, how he pinned me to the side of the pool and raped me. Raped me while all but my head was under water so no one would see.
There he raped me till he came, pumping me full of his seed before disappearing. And he did disappear. I never saw who did it. I looked around but the evil bastard blended in. Never found who did it.
At the time I was so humiliated that I left. I was humiliated because the man made me orgasm multiple times, causing me to feel strange, as if what happened was my fault. Otherwise I would have called the police and had everyone in the pool arrested. But no, I ran off, letting him get away with it. Letting him get off scot-free, with him getting what he wanted and making me orgasm as a bonus.
But no matter. I'm here today to prove to myself that I've moved on. That I'm not going to let some faceless rapist scare me. I'm strong enough to overcome anything, especially some pervert that goes around taking advantage of sweet college girls, like me.
In coming to terms with this, I have had to be honest with myself and admit everything, for good and for bad. Even admit the things I don't want to. So I admit that one of the reasons that I haven't returned is that I WANT him to be here at the pool. I want him here for several reasons, with the biggest being so I can confront him.
Oh, how I want to confront him. To look right into his big, dumb rapist face and kick him right in the balls. I so want to hear him groan in pain and sound like the idiot he made me feel like. Where he'll whimper and hold his crushed dick while I laugh.
But I have to admit that there is a part of me that wants him here...so he can do it again. For him to rape me all over again and make me feel like I did that day. As much shame as that brings me, I have to be honest with myself. I enjoyed what happened.
The thrill of what happened was so intense. It made me feel pleasure that I didn't think existed. It made the orgasms I had felt more like drug injections rather than something the human body can make. I reached highs that I know I'll never feel again.
"I am safe," I repeat my mantra as I feel that familiar submissive feeling creeping within me. That feeling I've had every day since I was raped, where I wish someone would take me like he did. Where they have complete control and violate me, making me feel nothing more than an object to be used.
Forcing the arousing feelings down, I walk a complete lap around the pool, becoming more relaxed with each step. And why shouldn't I feel relaxed? The sun is shining, it's a beautiful day, there's good people here, and I'm safe. Most importantly, finals are over. Why shouldn't I enjoy a dip in the pool to celebrate?
A few kids run past me, giggling and laughing, causing the lifeguard to blow his whistle and remind them to walk. This makes me smile as it broadcasts that this truly is a safe place. It's not the dark and scary locale that my confused emotions have made it to be. It's the neighborhood pool, visited by tons of families, where kids have fun, chasing each other and playing whatever game they are playing.
Finally feeling comfortable, I select the deck chair I want to use, which I lay my towel on. Unlike last time when I wore a bikini, I wear a one-piece bathing suit this time as there's no way to rape me in this. That bikini, though not small, was too easy to pull down. This full bathing suit isn't going to go anywhere.
Laying in the chair, I feel the wide smile on my face. Relaxing even more, I decide to let the sun warm me to better my tan. Where maybe I'll take a nap, then go hop in the pool. The way the sun feels on my skin is so innocent and sweet, making the sounds of families having a good time relax me more.
After just a few minutes, it occurs to me that I didn't bring sunscreen. Without sunscreen, I'm most likely going to bake and get sunburned. Especially since I've been trapped inside so much lately, studying nonstop. This makes me grunt as the relaxed and peaceful mood gets interrupted.
Thankfully the pool provides one-time sunscreen packets. It's really weak sunscreen, but it is better than nothing. So I get up off my lounge chair and walk along the sidewalk towards the clubhouse, which is where the sunscreen display is kept.
People walk to and fro on the sidewalk, which continues to make me feel safe. Gossiping teens walk together, as do mothers and their small kids, along with middle-aged fathers doing their best to keep their guts sucked in when they see me, the college girl. Seeing all of them makes me remember that a single word would bring tons of people running to help. So if someone did try to grab me, he wouldn't get far at all.
Approaching the front of the clubhouse, the restrooms are on the right side of the building, which is fairly busy, while the display for the sunscreen is on the left, on the outside. Well, it's a display for sunscreen, band-aids, tampons and whatever else is stocked there.
"Need some help?" I ask a small girl who literally jumps to try and grab one of the sunscreen packets. The display is connected to the wall, which starts at roughly three feet up. The girl, who looks to be six or seven, is trying to get a packet from the very top shelf for whatever reason kids have.
The girl nods with a smile, pointing to the top shelf, her wet hair covering part of her face, showing she just got out of the pool. Smiling, I grab the packet for her, not asking why she doesn't take one from the bottom. There I hand it to her, to which she says thank you.
"Mommy says I have to put sunscreen every time I go in," the girl tells me as she struggles with ripping off the top of the packet. I nod at this to show that I'm listening, but don't say anything nor ask any questions. That could end up being a very long conversation as the girl looks very talkative.
"
Don't make a sound
," a man with the deepest voice ever growls into my ear from behind. At the same exact moment he speaks, I feel ice-cold machine-like hands on my hips, grabbing them in what is a clear warning. Grabbing them so hard it'll leave bruises.
"Look forward," the man hisses, digging his nails in to make me winch.
My vision goes into tunnel vision as cold fear pumps into me. Everything in front of me seems so very far away as I recognize that voice. It's
HIM
. It's the same man. I would recognize that voice anywhere. It's my rapist. The man from years ago.
My heart pounds so hard that I swear my breasts bounce from it. It causes blood to rush so hard in my body it becomes the only thing I can hear as it passes my ears. And more than anything, I feel both freezing cold and burning heat from the fear. The fear of what the man is planning to do and the fear that in some dark reality, I wanted this to happen.
"Otherwise Mommy will yell at me," the little girl continues, having no clue what's happened. Now that she managed to get the sunscreen packet open, she starts to pour some out, rubbing it on her arms in a sloppy manner.
My head shakes just a tiny bit in protest as the hands holding my hips move to my sides where they grab my wrists. With a soft whimper, I shake my head harder and tell the man "NO." That he can't do this. Not again.
My wrists are smoothly but firmly pulled behind my back. He does it calmly and without any aggression, moving my hands behind my back where he pins them together at the wrist. The way he does it is so sneaky as no one seems to notice. For the girl in front of me doesn't notice, nor do any of the others going to or from the restrooms on the sidewalk.
"Bye!" The little girl says in a cheery voice, tossing the sunscreen packet into the nearby trash can. She then runs off, no doubt to tell her mom she put sunscreen on. The girl doesn't look back or in any way know that I'm in trouble. That I need help.
"Walk," my rapist orders while pushing on my wrists behind my back.
I don't move. Instead I stay as I am, feeling him push me to get me going. My chest continues to heave from the fear, but I fight to work up the courage to turn around and sock him. Or to break my arm free and elbow him as hard as I can. To finally fight and not be a victim.
"I said
WALK
