Sure, she wanted to get raped! What hot-blooded 18 year old virgin from an all-girl Catholic School didn’t? Premarital sex was wrong, wrong, wrong. So she would NEVER engage in such a sinful activity. Never! But RAPE; a man stealing sex, but leaving her innocence, well, that was different. So maybe she took a few chances; tempted fate a little. But when she took a shortcut through the dark alley, she hadn’t planned on THIS!
Roc was an evil garbageman, with strange idea’s concerning “waste management”. Nothing he liked better than to when he managed to get a young white bitch’s waist bent over into the back of his truck.
The burley black garbageman held Britney bent over face-first into the rear hopper of the garbage truck. As her torso rested upon pillows made of trashbags, her plaid skirt was flipped up and her white cotton panties stolen with a single RIPPPP!
Her heart raced as the shredded undergarment drifted down among the trash within plain view of where he pressed her head and shoulders amid the smelly refuse.
Roc raped rectums. Rectal rape was just his thing. Anal sex turned him on, and the only way he could get it was by brute force. Even women who normally crave anal sex would not agree to take him that way; and he’d never met a hooker that would accept anal penetration from him, not for any price. It wasn’t his fault that the entire female gender was in agreement on one issue: His dick was TOO BIG TO BUTTFUCK!
So Roc had to take what he wanted. It was the only way. And even then, it was only possible with plenty of brute force, and plenty of thick lube. Scooping up an entire handful of hydraulic grease from the powerful garbage compacting assembly, he smeared her ass-crack full. He looked over at the levers; chuckling at how easy it would be to dispose of her body when he was done reaming her bowels. The first swipe of the mighty iron scoop would cram her torso into the truck’s main container, leaving him holding her shapely buttocks and legs. Since she was bent at the waist, his cock would escape being severed even if he was inside her when the machine cut her in half. He decided he’d pull the lever and seal her fate just when he was about to cum, shooting the last of his load into her detached buttocks while the giant scoop reset, and then he’d toss her butt into the bin, pull the lever again, and dispose of her whole lower body. And then he’d go pick up another two tons of trash…
Britney gasped at the contact of the cold grease against her hot anal crevice; and then drew breath to scream as she felt his throbbing redwood-like member press through the grease, forcing her petite buttock cheeks wide apart.
Feeling that his fist-sized cockhead had banged right up against the target on the very first attempt, his hands were now free to pull her wool sweater over her head to muffle the inevitable screams.
Britney’s world went dark and her eyes bulged as she felt what must be the big end of a baseball bat making a serious attempt to penetrate her tiny asshole!
Roc gripped the lip of the garbage hopper, coordinating all of his weight and all of the muscles in his arms to inch forward. It might take a minute or two of hard work, but soon his long, fat pecker would be buried all the way up this cute Catholic schoolgirl’s ass.
She began to pray. First for the man’s soul, as surely he didn’t know that sodomy was an awful sin, and the Lord would surely punish him. But as the pressure against her anal-dot increased, she said a prayer for herself. “This hurts like a motherfucker, God! Get this son of a bitch offa me!”
As her anal ring began to relent, the very tip of his greasy cock peaked into her body. Her muffled screams filled the hopper of the idling truck. As the prick surged another fraction of an inch forward, she realized that there was no way to prevent him from tearing her bowels wide apart with his monster-cock. Unable to move, she screamed her agony and despair into the unhearing waste.
But as if in answer to her prayers, her screams were being drowned out by the sound of a siren—a siren coming unmistakable nearer. The anal-rapist heard it to, and stopped short. He listened for a moment, and then pulled from her bruised but unbroken crack to flee for the cab of his truck. She fell out behind the truck as it pulled out of the dark alley, adjusted her clothes as best she could, and walked calmly away, glancing over her shoulder in time to see the police car pull into the alley.
Britney kept right on walking, and didn’t look back again. She didn’t want to talk to the police! It occurred briefly to her that by telling the police what had happened, they could easily catch the man, simply by tracking down which garbage truck had this route. But then she would have to identify him; and testify! And the other girls at school and at church would point and whisper behind her back about her.
Of course, she realize that by NOT reporting the incident, the big black garbageman would be free to rape some other innocent schoolgirl, sodomizing her innocent asshole with such brutality that the girl would never fully recover. But when it came right down to it, how was that Britney’s problem? No, Britney would do what was best for Britney. She always had in the past, why change now?
Over the next couple of days, Britney replayed the assault in her mind, over and over and over: The thrill of knowing that she was about to have sex for the first time; the apprehension at realizing how big her assailant was; the horror of realizing he was going to try to enter her BACK THERE; the despair of realizing that she was helpless to stop him. And finally, the relief of escaping unharmed…and abstract sorrow she felt for his next victim. Her sphincter muscle twitched in sympathy whenever she thought of that poor little girl.
But by Saturday night, she figured she was completely over the trauma—and it was a good thing! A handsome black college student had asked her for a date, and she was eager to prove to herself that the attack had not left her a bitter racist.
Tyrone cooked her a great dinner, and poured her some wine. Then some more wine. And still more. Finally, she though, here’s a guy who knows how to take advantage of a girl! They moved to his couch, and she braced herself to mildly resist his inevitable sexual advances—at least enough to prove that she was a “good girl”, and that if he wanted to put his thing inside her tight young pussy, he would have to force the issue a bit. But suddenly her eyelids became heavy and she collapsed against him, passing out….
[The rest of the story is taken directly from the transcript of Britney’s session with the St. Mary’s Hospital Psychiatrist, who encouraged her to speak “graphically and in real-life language” about the incident. The session was secretly recorded by the priest, who insisted that he be allowed to sit in during the session.]
…When I came to, I found myself naked, with handcuffs around my wrists and ankles, manacled to Tyrone’s bedposts, face down. I realized, to my shock, that this ignorant nigger had actually spiked my drink! And now he was stripping, preparing to take me with no resistance at all!
I was ready to tell him that there was no need to keep me tied up, that if he would just untie me, I would obey his orders, whatever they may be. I would even offer to be his sex slave, if that’s what it took to get him to remove the shackling handcuffs. Since that night in the alley, I was a little frightened by the idea of being all helpless, at the mercy of a man’s every whim. But before I could make any offers, Tyrone spoke first, explaining that he fucked best when his lady was bound.
So as I hung helplessly over his bed, Tyrone squeezed under me and I felt his cock enter my tight vagina, and fuck me till it was sore. It was really strange, just hanging there, unable to do anything except will myself to not enjoy it. Before he came, he withdrew his prick, squirmed out from under me, and began approaching me from behind. It took me a second or two to realize that he too wanted to dick my ass! What’s with these damn jungle people!
I got terrified, recalling my recent anal close-call. I begged him not to do it there; told him I wouldn’t like it there; explained I couldn’t take it there.
He laughed cruelly and told me that now he was certainly going to assfuck me, and that he would enjoy it even more now that he knew I didn’t want it.
I got scared and tried to break out of the handcuffs, but it was no use, they were too tight. And besides, deep inside of me there was a voice that told me not to even try….Could that have been the voice of Satan?
I asked him to use some grease or some butter or some type of lubrication, but he just chuckled and ignored my pleas. My buttocks were already parted from having my legs spread, but I felt his palms separate them further. I felt his hard dick invading my crack; pushing at my dry anus.
I held my breath with a mixture of fear and wonder as I waited for the rod to pierce me, knowing there was no way to avoid it. As soon as he tried to ram it in, I knew it would be every bit as painful as I had feared it would be. Soon, he managed to squeeze his prickhead into my butt. I thought I was being torn apart; tears flooding my eyes. This time my prayers would not be answered in time.
Ignoring my sobs, he began to slide his big hard-on in and out with rhythmic trusts. After a dozen strokes or so, the pain was gradually disappearing. Soon, there seemed to be nothing wrong; God help me, I even began to enjoy it!
As Tyrone’s cock sank further and further into my ass, I found myself overcome by a new sort of sexual, highly-intense pleasure I had never felt before. Tears of pain became tears of joy as Tyrone went deeper; faster; harder. He buttfucked me like there was no tomorrow, and I loved it! The feeling was driving me insane!
Finally, Tyrone could hold out no longer. He came like a geyser, and I felt it all come gushing into my bowels. With that, I shuddered convulsively and came like I never did before. I’m sure I must have screamed. I never new such pleasure was possible—much better than masturbating with my crucifix! Oh, sorry father! I didn’t mean to say that out loud!
Tyrone got off of me just as there was a knock at the door. He went to answer it without even untying me, which I thought was a bit odd.
“Come on in, Uncle Roc!” I heard him say. I see you brought a super-size tub of Vasoline. That’s good; you’re gonna need it. I stretched her out a little bit for you, but she’s still plenty tight back there. I fainted as the big dicked garbage man walked up to the side of the bed and began to strip…
[Britney only though that she had fainted. Under hypnosys, she was able to recall the following] While I was unconscious, I dreamed that I was a tunnel, and a locomotive was speeding toward me. But I wasn’t a train tunnel, you see. I was only the diameter of a sewerline. Butt the locomotive was the size of, well, the size of a locomotive. And it continued to race toward me, as if unable to see the damage it would cause when it crashed against my entrance. Then I dreamed that I was a car, and that a mechanic with a grease-gun was, for some reason, pumping grease into my tailpipe. Then I dreamed that I was at a ball game and just as I was about to bite into a ballpark frank, it turned into a baseball bat inside my mouth! And then I dreamed that I had to swallowed the bat to keep from suffocating. And then I sat down to watch the game, but someone, as a joke, had replaced my stadium seat with a baseball bat! Isn’t that silly! And when I sat down on the bat, I screamed, cuz it hurt my ass so bad. And so a fireman came to my rescue, but his idea of soothing my ass involved shoving a fire hose up my butt and turning it on full blast. And then I remember walking—but walking funny because my ass was so sore. And I was walking down the sidewalk naked. And then there were more people in uniform. A policeman, and two ambulance guys. Then nurses and doctors…. [hypno-therapy session ends]
When I came to again, I was here in a hospital bed, my greasy ass was throbbing and unbelievably sore.
So tell me doctor, am I crazy?
And tell me Father, was what happened to me punishment for having sinned so much?
Police detectives interviewed Tyrone and his uncle Roc, but their stories matched up:
18 year old Britney was sane at the time of the lovemaking; had come over of her own free will, and consented to the anal sex and the “bondage games” which had left ligature scars on her wrists and ankles. The police confiscated the handcuffs, and what little of the petroleum jelly was left in the jumbo-tub. They admonished Tyrone and Roc to “not play so rough with white chicks in the future” and then went about their business.
The Hospital Psychiatrist concluded that Britney had one of the most severe cases of post-traumatic stress disorder he had ever seen, and that it would take years of weekly visits to regain full sanity. Meanwhile, her testimony could never be used in a court of law.
The priest agreed that Britney should just try to put the incident behind her. He looks forward to Britneys weekly confessions, in which she feels ashamed for walking down dark alleys late at night; in her plaid skirt, without panties, carrying her own little jar of Vaseline. And with a tampon always in place as a method to re-direct any cuntal rapists…
Britney has renounced her faith in god, becoming an atheist. But she still likes to go to confession, because she likes to talk about her rape fantasies, and the priest seems soooooo understanding….