The Ravishment of Young Judy

[Originally I had Judy's first role-play taking place in October 1975 as described

here

. Then I decided to write about another one occurring about a month earlier.

The story about Michelle wielding a knife is

here

.]

********

I know from my own experiences that there are women who want to do role-play games involving rape scenarios. The girlfriends who tried these had various motivations and reactions to these events.

Role play can be intriguing, even addictive, as the plots become more complex. Video games didn't exist in the 1970s (well, the first Pong consoles had appeared in bars). Gaming with real people, often in public locations, had an intensity that nothing from a computer would ever match. Sometimes there were real risks involved, even if these were only psychological ones resulting from emotional stress. The lines between playacting and reality could get blurred.

One of my girlfriends at the City College of New York in September, 1975 was a fellow junior, Judy Weinberg. She had heard about some roles I had tried with other women in the previous months and now she had a proposal of her own with me as her co-star.

We were having a late lunch with beer at the West End Cafe near Columbia when she brought up the topic of role playing. I remember saying to her, "Sure, what have you got for me?"

She hesitated for a moment and said, very seriously, "I was thinking of a game where you, or rather your character, rapes me."

I was surprised by that and I said, "Why would you ever want to do that?"

She had given it some thought, "I'm actually very afraid of it but I want to confront my fears, in a controlled sort of way, so I can overcome it."

I thought about it and said, "I don't really get it."

"Didn't you ever want to know about some experience without actually having to be in it?"

I did have something for her, "Well, sometimes I imagine what it's like to be a soldier in a battle but I'm actually glad I've never been in a war."

"That's sort of the similar, it sounds."

"Yeah, but I don't imagine getting killed or wounded."

"No, but do you imagine killing other people, right?"

I thought about my childhood, about the time my dad took me to the movies to see

The Longest Day.

I remembered paintings and illustrations reproduced in

Life

magazine depicting Civil War battles like Chancellorsville and the Crater at Petersburg. The high drama of some of those events had set me to wondering how I would behave myself in those circumstances.

I said, "Okay, yes, sometimes it seemed exciting. But it's not about killing other people. It's really if I would be brave and competent as a soldier. And it's definitely not about being a victim."

She thought about that, "Okay, it's not a perfect analogy. But I do find my fantasy exciting too, in a sexual way."

I had to know more, "Who have you imagined in these things?"

"It varies. Sometimes just a stranger, almost faceless. Sometimes, even you, but as a stranger to me."

That didn't exactly seem flattering. I thought sarcastically,

that's cool,

but I didn't respond directly.

I said, "If I may ask, have you ever masturbated while thinking about this?"

She looked at me levelly and smiled, "Oh yes, and quite successfully too."

I looked at her and I knew most people at the college saw her as a personable but low-key, studious-looking young woman. In fact, she was indeed all of those things. But as her lover I was discovering other sides of her complex and passionate personality.

A few moments later I asked her, "I assume you've got a scenario for us then?"

"That's right, I've got a plan."

That wasn't too surprising. I was finding out that for women role-plays went beyond plot and script; they usually had stage directions too. It was like creating a scene in a movie or on the stage with some improvisations by both participants.

I said, "So what have you got for me?"

"I think this should be done up at school, on South Campus, at night."

I hadn't expected it would be outdoors, "That sounds incredibly risky."

"Not as much as you might think. It will be late; we'll take a cab up there. Probably we can go behind Wagner, in that space between the building and the wall."

I was trying to picture this. She had considered more and added, "Those security guys, the Penn Guards, they just go through the motions." The university had started a contract with a new company and the new batch did seem as inept as the previous ones.

I said, "So who are we?"

"I'll just be a student, someone like myself. You'll be a stranger. Whether you're actually a student or not, I guess that's up to you."

As I sipped my beer she had another detail for me, "I think we'll borrow the switchblade that Michelle has, the one her uncle gave her. You'll have that."

"You're kidding me."

"No, I think it makes it all the more authentic."

I thought,

buying a rubber one from a toy store is not good enough I guess.

Michelle had used that knife on me during one of her role-plays and she had scared the hell out of me. Then Judy had one more specification.

"Can you get a ski mask somewhere?"

"A ski mask? That's so weird." But she seemed to like that idea so I promised I would try.

Judy said, "So does this all sound - intriguing?"

I answered her honestly, "At the moment I can't think of the right adjective."

***********

Around 9:30 on a warm evening I was standing at a corner of Wagner Hall waiting for her. I still wasn't sure I really liked this particular scenario but she had invented it in all its peculiar details. I only had to execute the plan, although I had a couple of my own ideas to add to the game. As I waited I held a paper bag with some of the items I would need. Props were often important in a role-play.

Fortunately she was punctual. As I peeked around the corner I saw a short, plump girl coming around from the front of Finley Hall and walking north along the driveway between that building and Wagner. I put my ski mask on and I also opened the knife. I had been practicing with it because I had no previous experience with them.

I looked again to check on her. Judy was wearing a short-sleeved blouse, a dark blue skirt and black knee socks. A hairband kept her unruly reddish-brown hair in place. I knew with the socks and hairband she was copying her friend Michelle on certain style points to get this "good girl" look from an earlier decade.

I did for a pang of affection for her as she approached. In the last few months I had appreciated this tension between her good-natured sweetness and the intensely sexual side of her that I was getting to know well.

So why does she even want to play this game?

I wondered again.

When she was in line with my position she briefly stopped and I saw her turn her head slightly in my direction. I knew she wanted to check that I was actually in place for this rendezvous. Then she continued north and I stepped out onto the asphalt.

"Don't scream or I'll cut you." I had gotten in front of her and raised my arm with the knife in my hand. Actually I held it away from her because of my lack of experience; I didn't want to hurt her by accident.

"Come on over here with me." I pulled her by the arm towards the rear of Wagner Hall.

"I've got some money, you can have that."

"You stupid bitch, I don't want your money, I want you."

There was a grassy area between the back of Wagner and the wall along St. Nicholas Terrace. "Kneel down." I knelt beside her. There was enough light coming from the light poles on the street for us to see each other.

"Now I'm going to tie your hands together. Just don't do or say anything."

Maybe this was something men learned from their fellow inmates in prisons or jails but I had no idea had to coordinate all of his. The first problem was that I didn't know what to do with the knife while I tied her.

Hold it in my mouth, maybe? What do you think you are, a fucking pirate?

Maybe Jean Lafitte had known how to do it without slicing his own gums, but I didn't. I just dropped it on the ground and started tying her hands.

I had brought a clothes line for this purpose. This brought up a second issue. Even during my Boy Scout days I had no knack for tying knots. Then I realized, it was just symbolic anyway. I did the best I could to secure her hands together even though it was a really sloppy job. I did it so her arms were over her head, which I assumed would be more comfortable than pining them behind her back.

I'm a thoughtful criminal or maybe just an inept one?

During this my "prey" was talking to me in a low voice; her character realized now what was going to happen.

"Please don't do this to me; I'm a good girl."

"You're all good girls when it's convenient."

"No really, I'm a virgin, I swear it."

"Yeah? That's actually even better then. Little girl, I'm going to bust your cherry but good and I'm going to love doing it."

"Please, not like this."

"It was coming sooner or later; it might as well be now. You're really cute, by the way, you look a bit like a Catholic schoolgirl."

"I'm actually Jewish."

I already knew that of course, but I also suspected that Judy was injecting some dark humor into this game. It occurred to me that my character, an obviously evil guy, should reply with something like,

it doesn't matter, you're all just cunts to me.

However I didn't have the acting ability to really say something that nasty to her.

Then, as we had agreed, I took her glasses off and put a strip of duct tape across her mouth. I didn't want to just push her over so I guided her down so that she was flat on her back.

I had a few surprises for her; I figured she'd accept some initiative on my part. Now I did find the resolve to be a pretend psychopath. This involved retrieving the knife; I pulled her blouse up and then sliced the front of bra so it fell into two pieces. The look in her eyes suggested she had really been caught unawares.

"Nice set of boobies for such a short girl," I said. I used my left hand to fondle then for a moment and then I lifted up her skirt. "Let's see what we got here . . . Okay, cute white panties. These have got to go too." I sliced them on each side and pulled them apart. With that I dropped the knife on the ground again.

"Let's see what you feel like down there."

She was surprisingly wet when I fondled her crotch. I tried to stay in character by saying, "You little minx, what were all those good girl lies you told me?" I think she fell out of character, because she winked at me. I suspected from the look in her eyes that she was smiling under the duct tape.

I decided that, having gone this far into this bizarre situation, I might as well finish it. It was mostly a matter of letting the natural inclinations of my horny twenty-year old self take over. The first thing on the list was to unzip my pants and let my erect cock out.

Okay, I'm so cool; I am able to get aroused by tying up and slicing the underwear off this girl.

I rationalized that by thinking I got hot imagining sex with Judy instead of the rape of a stranger.

"You've ever see a stiff cock before?" She nodded yes; so much for her virginity act. Her eyes seemed much too bright for someone who was supposedly on the brink of this awful fate.

I rubbed myself against her inner thigh and said, in a rather mild way, "Come on baby, get your legs up." She complied immediately. I figured,

my character is not going for a lot of foreplay, let's just get this done already.

I also realized that I no longer held the knife, but that seemed unimportant now.

Somehow, once I had entered her, I got more into character than I had expected to be. I held up one of legs with my right hand and braced myself on the ground with my left. Then I pumped away.

"You like it, little girl, do you like my big dick in you?'

I didn't look down to see if she nodded or not. I said a few more of the kinds of things that people say during sex, - e.g., "I love being in your hot little cunt." - but the fact that she couldn't respond unnerved me. She seemed to be enjoying it anyway, based on the way she positioned and then moved her legs around. Despite the duct tape, I could hear what I was sure were moans coming from her.

Yet this particular stunt was more her thing than mine, and I wanted to do our coupling on the dark back lawn as quickly as possible. I got a fast rhythm going and didn't attempt to slow the build-up within me. When I came I said something like, "Oh my sweet little Judy," which I was sure my character would never have actually done. I wasn't supposed to even know what her name was.

Then I pulled out and rolled over into a sitting position. Fortunately I hadn't lowered my pants so I didn't have to worry about leaves and twigs sticking to my ass. I was confused about what to do next, and oddly I couldn't bear to look at her.

This must be a pretty successful game if I feel guilty now.

I did have one more gimmick of my own devising: I went through her bag and took out her wallet. When I had her driver's license I pretended to read it and then I held it up.

"Judith Weinberg, huh? Now I know your address, I know where to find you, so you better not report this." She seemed to shrug at that. "Besides, you're such a juicy little piece, I may look you up again sometime."

Having made these ridiculous statements, it seemed that the time had come for my getaway. I got up and pulled my pants together. Then I put her license in my pocket, and started to walk away. My plan was to circle the Finley Hall complex which would use up at least ten minutes. In the first minute I took off the ski mask and put it in my bag.

The paper bag rapist:

I guessed I would be called that by the press. It then hit me that I had left the knife behind.

Oh, the hell with it.

I wasn't that dedicated to authenticity to actually go back for it.

In another minute I was passing the statue of a beaver, the school mascot, set on a pedestal. A ton and a half of carved limestone, it had been a gift from the class of 1956.

This must be the only college in the world with a statue of a fucking beaver.

I was sure that my class, 1977, was going to bequeath nothing.

My overactive mind went over a post-mortem as if the events of the previous few minutes had been real. Judy had specified that she wanted to be left tied up, but I thought a real criminal would have undone her and then threatened her again to not report it. Otherwise she would be found there or she would have stumbled into the security office and she would have had no choice but to report it.

Being a criminal seemed more complicated than I had originally thought. I understood why there were so many guys in prison: they didn't have the experience or the intelligence to consider all of these details.

When I finally came around the corner of Wagner again Judy was sitting there, leaning against the wall as if she was ready for a picnic. She had untied the rope, removed the duct tape and put her glass back on; more evidence of my ineptness.

I said, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine; how about you?"

"I don't know, this is kind of strange. We should get out of here."

She waved me over and patted the ground next to her, "Nah, come over here and sit down."

She looked so relaxed that I didn't question her. When I was next to her I was about to start talking but she got the first word in.

"You left me unfinished, you know."

I didn't know what she was talking about, "What? You untied yourself."

"No silly." She leaned forward and said quietly to me, "You came and I didn't yet; you were too fast."

"What did you expect?"

"Don't take it personally. It's just time to fix that."

"Right here, right now?"

She nodded, "No better time than the present." I supposed we did have the option of our newspaper office, but that was three floors up in the building across the way.

I said, "Okay, you were the 'victim,' you get to choose. How would you like it?"

"Lie down on the ground, I want to get on top." When I was there she unzipped me and pulled my cock out again. "You need a little motivation, I see." She pulled up her blouse to show her bare breasts, then she started to stroke me.

"Put the ski mask back on."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely." I didn't understand her preference but I was willing to go along with her wishes; I put it back on my head and growled at her, "Gr-r-r-r."

"You're really a very bad man, forcing your stiff member into innocent young girls."

"Sweetheart, you're the one with the upper hand here."

When she was ready she swung her bare crotch over me and I reached up and felt my own semen inside her. I guided myself into her from below and then she banged away at me. She was very enthusiastic and quite loud as I held her round hips. I almost told her to keep her voice down - but then, I'm not always the most assertive guy in the world. Besides, she was obviously having a great time.

When she had her orgasm she babbled various statements, including one about how she loved me. That was certainly pleasant to hear, but I didn't have the physical or mental wherewithal to have another orgasm of my own. I just stopped moving when she did.

She rolled off and held me. I looked up through the tree branches and saw a few stars. I had a strange sensation: I grasped the weirdness of this intimate moment outdoors, lying in this concealed space on the grass and leaves. For miles around us the eight million stories of the Naked City were winding down for the evening. Then I pulled off the ski mask.

When she had caught her breath Judy looked up too. She said, "All of us are looking at the stars, but some of us are in the gutter."

"You got that backwards."

"I know, I did that deliberately."

I thought for a moment and then I chuckled; I think I got what she meant.

"I'm sorry about your underwear. I guess I owe you a new set."

"Come on, it was part of the game. You would be the kind of guy who worries about that." She seemed amused by this. "But if you want to contribute some bucks to my new underthings fund, I'll take them. By the way, I've got the remains in my bag. Probably it's not a good idea to leave that around. And I've got the knife too so you can give it back to Michelle."

This girl was really organized, better than I usually was. I said, "Anyway, it really is getting time to leave here. I'll take you home; we'll grab a cab."

"Don't forget my driver's license too." She giggled. "So are you going to look me up again?"

"You bet!" As I started to get my pants together I asked her, "So what was that bit about your character seeing a stiff cock before?"

"Oh that - ah, I guess she saw an exhibitionist somewhere, maybe on the subway."

"That sounds kind of lame, but I'll accept it. Let's get going."

We held hands as we started to walk to Amsterdam Avenue; I had my little bag of rapist's equipment with me."

"So have you ever seen a flasher?" I asked.

"No, never."

"What would you do if you did?"

"I'd say to him, 'Hey fella, don't you think we should have some coffee first?' "

I laughed at that, "Come on, Judy, I know you, you wouldn't say that."

"No, those guys are cowards; they expect the girl to run away. And maybe you've underestimated me. I've had a chance now to think about it ahead of time."

*****