Revenge Works Both Ways Ftds

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Stupid Revenge tends to Rebound - my ending to kajiralyma's Revenge

http://www.literotica.com/s/revenge-30

KajiraLyma tells a story of a man(?) getting revenge on a woman by gang-raping her, because of an accurate if harsh accusation that happened in their youth. She's moved on, having to change schools and make new friends. He hasn't.

With the help of his friends, he ties her to a bed, and two of the three take turns raping her, leaving her still tied up when they're done.

He tells her he's going to ruin her life, and that's just a start. I wonder whose life will really be ruined, in the sequel that's written 5 years later...

This is a short one, since the ending is too easy and so obvious.

There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed, or left hanging with disgusting endings. If I find a story that's been abandoned for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.

For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.

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My plans for the morning hadn't worked out so well. I was still duct-taped to the bed, four hours later, and for all my efforts, I couldn't break free. My wrists were chafed and bleeding from my struggles, and my fingernails broken off, from where I'd tried to tear the tape.

The tears returned, somehow. I thought I was all cried out. I was terrified. I had tried screaming, but nobody had responded. I'd wet the bed, when I couldn't hold it any longer. I felt disgusting, with their dried fluids on me and in me.

My cell-phone rang for at least the 10th time, and I moaned in misery. I glanced at the clock by the bed and it was already 10:30 in the morning. I was an hour late for work. I'd had to sit through that damn alarm clock going off forever, until it finally stopped.

Pony had said he was going to destroy my life, and he was making good on that promise. I'd been assaulted and raped repeatedly, and now I was going to lose my job. If I didn't figure out a way to free myself, I might even die there, tied to my bed.

I heard the doorbell ring, and yelled for help. I screamed as loudly as I could, but the doorbell stopped, and nothing happened.

I lay back in despair, at the mess that had become of my life.

I understood Pony hated me. But it wasn't all my fault. He

did

push things too far, trying to force me on that damn couch behind stage. In a public place, no less. I had only told the truth. What had happened after that wasn't my fault. I'd never been interviewed, talked to, or questioned. If he was found guilty of anything, it hadn't been because of me.

He knew I had a boyfriend, but I guess he figured he'd count on our previous history. Yeah, I'd been with him before, but I'd broken that off when I learned he was a psycho. Maybe I shouldn't have let him get away with as much as I did that night, but he came onto me. He was a good looking guy, and the flirting was fun, but he should have stopped when I told him to.

I felt bad he'd gotten in trouble, but I'd suffered too. I'd had to change schools, all because he couldn't take no for an answer without getting loud and forceful. I didn't deserve to be tied down, gang-raped and left for dead because of it.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the door opening downstairs until the voices were in the house. I heard my sister calling out my name, and the old raspy voice of Carl, the apartment manager.

"Tina!" I screamed out. "Help! Please!"

She walked in the room, and I saw her face go pale. Carl took one look at me, lying there naked, tied to the bed, and I saw his face turn red. "Help her," he told my sister, "but don't clean her up." He turned away and I saw him pull out his phone.

"What happened?" Tina asked as she tried to free my bloody wrists.

"Pony," I sobbed. "Pony, Andre and a friend of theirs named Alex. They tied me down and raped me. They were hiding in the house when I came home last night. I woke in the middle of the night, tied to the bed."

"That stupid son-of-a-bitch! This is the second time that bastard has ruined your life. I hope this finally gets you over feeling guilty about his troubles. I told you a thousand times, yours was just the straw that broke the camel's back. He was nothing but trouble." She was being rough with me, tugging and pulling at my restraints, and finally gave up. "Crap! I'm going to get a knife."

She left the room, and old Carl walked in, his eyes avoiding my body. He went to the bathroom, and got a towel he laid over me for a little privacy. "The police are on their way." He retreated to the bathroom, and brought back a glass of water. "Thirsty?"

I nodded.

He held my head up, and brought the glass to my lips. I drank deeply, I was totally parched.

"Can you hold out a few more minutes?" he asked, when the glass was half empty. "It might be best if we didn't disturb the scene of the crime, and that's you, sweetie. I'm sorry." His voice was soft and he sounded concerned. I'd always thought he was just the mean old creepy man who got upset if you left anything out on the balcony, threatened to tow your car if you were in the wrong parking space, or read you the riot act if you were a couple of days late with your rent.

"Crime?" I asked, my mind still numb to what had happened.

"Those boys are going to be in a lot of trouble. They can't get away with something like this. Were they the guys driving the black Impala parked in 3B's parking space?"

"I ... I think so. I didn't see them in the car. They were hiding in the house I guess, and I woke up tied to the bed, with the three of them standing over me. They r-r-r ..." I couldn't even get the words out of my mouth.

He offered the glass to my lips. "Hush, sweetie. We know what they did. They'll pay. You just have to be strong now."

I looked into his sad eyes, and he brushed the hair back away from my face.

Tina was standing beside the bed, a knife in her hand. Carl stopped her. "Let's wait for the police. They should be here any moment."

"We can't just leave her there!" Tina cried, and I saw the tears running down my sister's face.

Carl reached out to her, and gently took the knife from her hand. He turned back to me. "Can you hold out just a little longer, sweetie? Or is it too much? I'll cut you free if you want."

"Not much longer?" I asked nervously, my arms and hands still aching.

"Listen," he said. "I think we can hear the sirens already."

He was right. It was only a couple of more minutes before the vehicles started pulling up outside. The police were freeing me before long, and the EMT guys helped me off the bed, wrapped me up, and took me out to their vehicle. I heard the police telling my sister to get me a change of clothing, and that I'd be at Memorial hospital.

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I won't go through all the indignities I had to suffer at the hospital, or the array of people I had to speak with, but trust me, it wasn't fun. They made me sign a paper before the Forensic Examiner started poking, probing, and swabbing my body.

I explained what had happened, and it was like the lady almost didn't believe me, the way she kept asking questions, making me repeat things, going back and going over what I'd said earlier. I was getting irritated, and I guess she noticed.

"It's important Mari. We need a very detailed description of the assault, and we have to make sure you recall precisely what happened. Believe it or not, this will help you recall in the future if you're asked to testify. Recalling it in detail may seem painful, but it's for the best. I believe you, Mari. It's obvious this was non-consensual. I'm just doing my job."

I nodded, and went back to answering the questions. After more humiliation, including checking my butt, even though I told them that nothing had happened there, they finally let me clean up and put on the clothing that Tina had brought me. The doctor offered me a morning-after pill I was relieved to take.

The police were still waiting. "If you're up to it," the lady cop said, "we could finish your statement now."

"Can I get something to eat?" I asked. I hadn't eaten since the night before and it was after noon. I was amazed that I was hungry.

They brought in a sandwich and a Coke for me, and finished the interview. I gave them Pony's and Andre's full names, and told them about the third guy named Alex. I explained that Alex was the first to rape me, and how he did it, and that the other two left when Pony raped me. I had to repeat all the details of what he did, and how he did it, including how he slapped me and choked me. I told them how he said he was going to destroy my life, and that night was only the start. I also explained that Andre didn't do any raping, but he's the one who gagged me, stripped my panties off, and left me there for the others to rape.

They had a lot of questions, and I answered them as best I could.

My sister had called work, and explained the circumstances, so I didn't have to go in for a couple of days. That was good, because I was a mess. My sister let me stay with her, since I couldn't stand to go back home to my apartment.

The police showed up on the second day, and asked me if I was willing to do a lineup. I didn't think I needed to, I knew who the guys were, I'd known them for years. I guess it was for the third guy, the guy named Alex. I let them drive me down to the police station, and stood behind the glass.

"Number 2," I said as soon as the guys walked in the room.

"Are you certain?"

"The guy was right on top of me. He was the first to rape me. He came on my face for God's sake! I know who raped me. He was at the mall, and in my room. Alex, number 2."

There were four people in the room, and the fat guy in the suit didn't look too happy with me. Well, fuck him.

The police spoke with me afterward. "It's a slam dunk, Mari. Mr. Collins started confessing as soon as we pulled them in."

"Andre confessed?"

"Yeah, he wasn't happy with the way the whole thing went down."

"If he wasn't happy, he didn't have to threaten me at the mall, gag me or strip me."

The comment about threatening me at the mall, started a new discussion, and I had to go over that again.

"Mr. Mancuso is a repeat offender. According to the records he's tried this once before with you."

I shook my head. "Not like this. That time all that happened was Pony didn't want to stop when I told him to. He got pushy, and I had to slap him to get him off me."

The guy was reading his notes. "It looks like you weren't the only one. He had two other complaints against him at that time, one a lot more severe than yours. He was lucky to get off back then. He won't be so lucky this time."

"Good. I hope the bastard rots in jail."

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The police were right. Alex and Pony were both repeat offenders. I had no idea there were so many things a guy could get charged with during a rape. Assault, rape, kidnapping, breaking and entering, the list seemed to go on and on. I sat in the courtroom and was eager to get up and tell them my story.

Their fat-fuck lawyer tried to say it was my idea. He argued that I wanted it, and that I'd asked them over. He tried to make me sound like a slut. I told him what I thought of him, and the judge told me I couldn't say that. I asked why not, the fat idiot was a joke and a liar. He was probably a rapist too, since nobody would ever want to fuck a fat ass like him.

The judge had a little talk with me, and I calmed down, and just answered the questions. I still couldn't help myself a few times, calling the jerk a few names as I told him how stupid he was. Who got their jollies defending rapists?

I mean, really? Did he think I wanted to be tied up and left there? They had the confession from Andre. They had all the evidence. Both bastards were convicted felons.

Old Carl was good up in the box. When he got done talking, I saw how some of the jury people were in tears. I think that's when the bad guys knew they were done. The whole thing only took one day. The jury wasn't out of the room 15 minutes before they returned their verdict. When it was all said and done, Alex got 10 years, and Pony 15.

Andre had made some kind of plea deal, where he only got 18 months for his part. I was pissed at him, but I figured the others would have done what he did if he wasn't there, and at least he hadn't fucked me when I was tied up.

Carl told me the apartment owners didn't want any kind of lawsuit, and they offered to give me a new, bigger, nicer apartment, on the third floor, where nobody could get in through the window. That was the big issue for them, they'd been cited because the window locks weren't up to code. They offered to put better locks on the front door, move my stuff for me, and give me free rent for a year, with any future payments the same as my original rent. All I had to do was sign a paper. I didn't blame them, so I did.

I don't know why I ever thought Carl was a mean guy. He was cool, took care of getting me moved, and checked in on me regularly. We became friends, and I found out he was 73 years old. He looked pretty good for someone that age.

For several months I had problems dating. I would get anxious and nervous for no reason. The first time I was kissing a guy and he grabbed my wrist I freaked out. I guess I can thank Pony and his friends for that. I ended up talking to a shrink about it for a while, but my work insurance only covered six sessions.

Carl had a different idea to help me deal with it. He took me down to the firing range, and taught me how to shoot a gun. He introduced me to a couple of his friends, a bunch of old farts, who it turned out had been in Vietnam with him. I thought all those old guys were dead by now. One of them sold me a gun for $50. Afterward Carl told me the guy liked me, I reminded him of his granddaughter, and the gun was worth closer to $400. I got two big boxes of bullets with the gun, and at least once a month I'd go out with the old buggers to shoot off a box or two. I think I was their mascot.

Things got interesting when one of them invited his grandson along. Derek was a nice guy, and a great shot. After that first time, he seemed to show up every time I went, and brought along a bunch of different guns for me to try. That's how I ended up with my sweet Ruger LCP, a 380 ACP. We took our concealed carry classes together, and got in some private practice on our own.

For Christmas, he got me a gorgeous concealed carry purse, the Raven Shoulder Pouch. He was still trying to get me to switch up to a 9 mm, but I reminded him that as long as I was with him, his daily carry 45 is all I needed.

As part of his present, I gave him something he'd been hinting patiently at for a while. He got to spend the night, and I didn't freak out. It wasn't that great, I was nervous but he was patient. By New Year's we'd worked all the kinks out, and we rolled in 2013 with a marathon. We didn't stagger out of bed until 3:00 pm the following day. We've been together ever since.

We were visiting his grandfather one day, when the old man, Bill, said he had a surprise for me. I had my fingers crossed. Bill was loaded, and he'd been on me about getting a gun with a little more 'oomph'. I opened the box and found a beautiful Ruger LC9. It had a pink body, blued slide, viridian green laser, three mags, and a huge can of 900 9mm 115 grain rounds. The dirty old man got a woody when I jumped on his lap and gave him a big hug and a kiss.

He told me it was an early wedding present, and I almost crapped my panties when I turned and found Derek on one knee, holding an open jewelry box, with the prettiest ring I'd ever seen. I was gonna say yes anyway, but that gorgeous LC9 made it a sure thing.

"One more thing, Angel," Bill said, while I was perched in his lap, my new ring on my finger, my lips still burning from his grandson's kiss, and his pesky hard-on denting my butt. "Those bastards that went after you? A friend of a friend has assured me that those jerks are finding out what it's like to be raped. On a regular basis."

I don't think I'm a vengeful person, but somehow, hearing that, I felt a whole lot better. I don't know what got into me, but I hugged the old guy, sobbing into his shoulder, while he held me. His hand might have got a little too familiar with my boob, but that was alright. More than alright, really. I gave my butt a few wiggles, to let him know how much I appreciated it. I was certain that somehow his influence had initiated the equalizing.

Alright, I admit it. I loved the old guys who took me in. Carl, Bill, all of them. They were good to me, when I needed faith in men again, and their lecherous gaze made me feel good about myself, when I was feeling down. Without them I never would have met Derek, and I doubt I'd ever feel as comfortable and confident as I did with the weight of my concealed gun pulling on the straps of my purse. I owed them. If Bill had wanted to touch my boob, I would have happily removed my shirt and bra, and given him full access. All he really wanted to do was tease and flirt, and I was happy to play along.

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Pony had tried to ruin my life. I'll admit, he put a hurtin' on me there for a while, but now it's the best it's ever been. I've got a great guy, who takes care of me and makes me feel good about myself. I feel secure and safe with him. Carl's a good friend, and his old war buddies still make sure I keep my aim steady, and they always have spare ammo handy for me. That stuff is expensive! Derek's grandfather, Bill, gets more than his share of attention from me. Maybe too much sometimes. More than one lap sitting, cuddling session has left him with an embarrassing wet spot on his pants.

Andre felt shitty about what he'd done, and I got a letter from him after he got out after a little more than a year, apologizing. He was moving away but he warned me that Pony was madder than ever, and was determined to go after me again when he got out. And that was

before

Bill's friend's friends made sure Pony got a taste of what I'd gotten.

Pony still has 13 years on his sentence, and maybe, if he's lucky he might get out in 10. I hope he does come after me then. I can hit the bullseye with all 7 rounds of my LC9 from 15 feet away. The guys tell me to be sure to aim at center mass. I laugh, put five in the heart, and a double-tap in the crotch, making them wince, all in five seconds.

Derek has asked me if I'd really do that. I assure him I wouldn't. That would be too easy. I prefer the idea of a gut-shot, both knees, both elbows, and

then

the crotch double-tap. He says he doesn't ever want to piss me off. I tell him he's right, but he knows I'm only joking. I love the guy.

Bring it on, Pony. Let's see who ruins whose life. If he comes after me again, I hope he likes his new nickname, Gelding.

And that's only if I get to him first. Some of the old farts are pretty tough and nasty. I shiver to think what Carl or Bill would do if anyone hurt their favorite mascot.

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