Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Guilty Until Proven Innocent:  Chapter 1:  Captured

       So, this is how it all started.  Friday on homecoming weekend, and with the entire school in full spirit week frenzy for the football game tonight.  Naturally, I wasn’t participating in toga day… seeing all those preppy idiots walking around in bed sheets made me laugh.  I was wearing a fishnet body stocking, a black skirt that went down to my knees, and a corset with black and red coloring.  Then I was wearing these combat boots that went up almost to my knees.  I guess I was trying to stand out from everyone else as much as possible.

       Maybe I did too good of a job.  I keep trying to tell myself that this wasn’t my fault, and that it had to have been planned far in advance, but a part of me still thinks that maybe, if I wasn’t walking around dressed like such a bitch they never would have bothered me.

       Anyway, I walk between 3rd and 4th hour the same way I always do:  out of C wing, through the little hallway between the two gyms.  No one ever uses it, so it’s a great way to get around the mobs of people standing around talking or trying to get to class.  I heard footsteps of someone walking behind me, but I didn’t think anything of it.  I wish I had, but why would I?  I’m in the same school I’ve spent the last two and a half years of my life in; walking the same route I do everyday.  What the fuck did I have to worry about, right?

       It all happened so fast from there.  Whoever was following me grabbed my from behind and threw his hand over my mouth and nose.  He had to be holding some kind of cloth, because my eyes were covered with some dark fabric.  It took me about two second to process this attack, and then I tried to scream.  As soon as I tried, a hand wrapped around my neck and my head got slammed against a wall.  I’m not sure if I passed out from being hit or from a drug on the cloth.  It happened too fast, and my memory of the attack itself was a blur.  All I know is that I felt myself falling, and then I don’t remember anything else.

       I really wish I could remember more.  I keep thinking that if I remember more, maybe someone will believe me that I was raped.  No one does, you know.  I’m afraid to tell my parents… they might believe that I’m a slut, just like most of the school does now.

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Guilty Until Proven Innocent:  Chapter 2: Captivity

       The next thing I knew, I seriously thought I was dead.  I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t hear anything, I couldn’t move at all, and pain was the only thing that I could feel.  And oh god did my entire body hurt.   I couldn’t even tell where it hurt, the pain was so bad.  I tried screaming, but I could barely even hear myself… I’m not sure that if I didn’t know I was screaming I would have heard a damn thing.  I got hysterical, breathing really fast until I think I passed out again… I’m not sure because the next thing I can remember is the pain again.  The pain and the panic… I’ll always be able to remember that, even if I manage to put my assault behind me.  It’s hard to explain, but I was positive that I was in hell, being punished.  I don’t even believe in hell. 

I have no sense of time for how long I was like that, but eventually I managed to figure out that I wasn’t dead.  It was the cold that did it.  I could move a little, although just barely… and when I moved forward just the slightest bit, I could feel something cold against my legs below the skirt.  Once I managed to calm myself down just a little bit, I could feel the pain even more. While I hurt all over, the pain was the worst in my arms, my wrists, and my head.  Especially my head… It hurt like nothing I’ve ever felt before.  I still couldn’t see or hear a damn thing, and I could just barely move, I had no idea where I was, when I was, or what was happening to me.  And I started to cry. 

I cried and I cried, my grown up image of myself evaporating in the face of my panic.  What a pathetic image I must have made.  I hope they weren’t watching me.  The thought of anyone seeing that would break me.  I wasn’t the girl I’d always thought I was, and that instantly became clear to me then.

Ironically, it was the crying that calmed me down.  Because of the tears, I could feel a blindfold pressed against my face.  While I still couldn’t move or hear and had no idea why, at least I could start feeling silly for thinking I was dead.  I mean, what had come over me, right?  I wish I had been dead.  Living through something like my attack has to be far worse than dying.

I have no idea how long it was before one of my attackers came for me, but it felt like weeks.  I had no warning, just all of the sudden there was a rush of air across my skin, and then there was a hand pulling my hair.  He tugged hard, and I screamed again, the sound barely even reaching my own ears through the bone.  I fell forward, and my head hit something and I blacked out again.

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Guilty Until Proven Innocent: Chapter 3: Abuse

       I woke up burning.  Every nerve in my body was screaming that I was burning hot, and I had no idea what was going on.  Just the same, my body reflexively writhed and twitched away from the heat.  As I did so, I could feel limits on my mobility: I couldn’t move my hands away from behind my back, and I couldn’t separate my legs.  I also noticed that I could hear again… running water, it sounded like.  I’d been thrown into a hot shower.  I screamed, and this time I heard it just fine:  I must have been gagged.

       I still had no idea why I hadn’t been able to hear.

       I screamed and I screamed and all I heard was the roar of the water and my own screams echoing back at me.  I finally placed where I must be:  Inside one of the schools locker rooms.  The bastards had knocked me out and threw me inside a locker.  So there I was, writhing around on the filthy floor of the locker room, my clothing soaked with scalding hot water, screaming until my lungs hurt.  I finally heard a laugh over my screams.  I strained, but I didn’t recognize the voice.  “School’s been over for hours, honey.  No one will hear you.”

       I felt my hair being grabbed again.  “Please!” I yelled, but it didn’t stop him as he wrapped his fist up in my long hair and pulled me roughly upwards.  I could feel my scalp burning as some hair was ripped right out of it.  I got thrown roughly against a wall and my head exploded with agony was the back of head smacked the tile.  I opened my mouth in shock, and I was suddenly gagging as something was pressed into my mouth. 

       There was a cock in my mouth.  I was gagging around some bastards cock.  Somehow, the thought that I was going to get raped had never occurred to me, no matter how panicked I had gotten.  Now it was real.  Someone was forcing me to suck his dick, violating my mouth.

       I’m no stranger to blowjobs.  I wasn’t a virgin, and I’ve sucked the cocks of several of my boyfriends before.  Some people don’t believe that rape could be so bad.  I mean, it’s just sex, right?  It sucks that you didn’t choose to give it up, but its still just sex.  I’m no stranger to a blowjob.

       This was not a blowjob.

       Immediately, the realization that I was going to get raped made me sick to my stomach.  My head swam from the pain, my stomach twisted, and I felt lightheaded.  I vomited all over the bastard.

       It served him right, but I wish I hadn’t lost my stomach.  He started swearing, and before I could track what was happening he’d pulled out of my mouth and was slapping me across the face, holding me up by my hair.  My head felt like it was going to pop from each and every hit: I probably had a concussion from earlier.

       I lost track of how many times he hit me after three, but I’m confident from my bruises later that it went on for at least a minute or two.  Then I was being raped again.  I was completely limp in his hands by then as he wrapped his fingers in a grip behind my head and pulled my head violently into his crotch, raping my throat.  I never stopped gagging the entire time, but I had nothing left to vomit.  I almost passed out from lack of air several times, but I was sure that if I passed out, I’d never wake up.  That seemed almost like a blessing, but I still can remember fighting down unconsciousness as hard as I could.

       Parts of my night are a blur that I can barely remember, while other parts I remember with perfect detail.  I wish I could forget how it felt to have him rape me, but I can’t.  With every thrust, he buried my nose into his pubic hair.  I heard somewhere that smell is the sense with the strongest tie to memory.  I believe it.  I’ll never to able to forget the way that pig smells.  He shoved his cock straight down my throat, and as I tried desperately to twist out of the way, he just pulled my hair tighter and raped me more violently.

       Why didn’t I bite him?  I don’t know.  I don’t think the idea even occurred to me.  It’s easy for you people to rationalize away rape, and blame it on the victim.  You’ve never been raped.  You can’t think about it: you can’t really think about anything.  Your brain just shuts down.  So to all you high school assholes who don’t believe I was raped, to everyone who’s ever blamed a woman for her own rape:

       Go fuck yourself.

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Guilty Until Proven Innocent: Chapter 4: Rape

       When I heard the door open, I squealed from around my rapists cock, trying to get the attention of whoever entered.  He didn’t stop pumping my throat even for a second, though.  Over his grunts, I heard someone speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words.

       “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” My rapist replied, burying his cock as deep in my throat as he could and holding it there.  “You took too long.  Everyone here?”  When the newcomer grunted, the man forcing me to suck him starting fucking my face again.  I gasped in air, trying to breath.  “I’ll finish up in just a second.”  He started pulling my head towards him faster, grunting as he did it.  Then he buried my face into his crotch, slugging me in the nose with his body as he came right down my throat.  Thankfully, I couldn’t taste it, but just knowing that he had polluted my body made me want to die.  He

       He let go of my hair and I leaned back against the wall.  I tried to stay up, and got a slap across the face for my trouble, making me fall limply to the floor like a rag doll.  “Time to join the party, little Krystal.”  He picked me up and carried my limp body somewhere, and then unceremoniously dumped me.  I didn’t fall as far as I thought I would, so it must have been on a bench or something.

       Here my memory starts to get hazy again.  I think that as soon as I hit the bench, or maybe even before I landed, hands started to roam my body.  I have no idea how many people were molesting me.  Three people at least.  Four people… five maybe?  Six at most, I think, but I really can’t know for sure.  Let me tell you, not knowing how many people saw humiliated was almost as bad as being raped to begin with.  I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to put it behind me.  I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering if that man ahead of me on the street saw me debased, degraded, used.  I started to worry even more about it when I heard camera snaps.

       Course hands were groping my body through the clothing, pinching my nipples, cupping my breasts, and feeling up my thighs.  One person reached up under my skirt and tore the fishnet covering my crotch, reaching through and grabbing at my panties.  He made a fist around them, and started to pull, trying to rip them off.

       Clothing is tougher than most give it credit for.  I could hear people laughing as he raised my hits a foot or more in the air, trying to snap the panties.  Finally they tore, and I fell back to the bench with a heavy thud.  Prying fingers flipped my skirt up and started grabbing at my snatch.  I could hear whistling, and I tried to push my legs together as tightly as I could.

       Tearing off my panties was like a signal:  suddenly I could feel hands on every bit of my clothing, tearing them off.  My corset and my skirt both got ripped violently from my body, exposing me to the open air and my abductors prying eyes, with only a flimsy fishnet to shield me.  My boots were taken off, and suddenly I could move my legs again, for a moment.  Heavy, grasping hands, gripped both of my thighs and pushed them apart, opening my pussy to view.

       “I guess she really does have a piercing on her cunt.”  Someone said into a chorus of laughs.  Someone grabbed the ring and pulled it harshly, twisting it.  I screamed my lungs out until they felt like sandpaper, begging for mercy as he twisted the deep tissue piercing. 

       Hands started tearing at my body stocking, ripping it off like the rest of my clothing.  “Nah man, leave that on.  She looks cute in it.”  Someone slapped my face, and as I kept screaming about the piercing, a bottle was pushed into my lips.  “Drink up, slut.”

       Alcohol… some hard liqueur by the taste of it.  Not mixed in anything, either.  The skin of my throat was full of cuts from the abrasive cock that had just finished raping it, so the alcohol burned like hell going down.  While I gagged on the liqueur, someone shoved a finger into my pussy, and ground it around roughly.  I yelped, the noise barely coming out with all the liquid in my mouth.  The man by my head kept pouring alcohol into me until the bottle was empty, and for me it was swallow it or drown. 

       Handed gripped my hips and flipped me over onto my belly, my legs dangling from the bench.  The finger in my cunt became two, fucking in and out of me roughly.  I heard tape tearing, and then my legs were stuck under the bench, helpless to move or struggle away from the men.  The man fingering me pulled out, and then stuffed the fingers in wet.  Then he backed off again and I could feel the pressure of a cock being pushed against my snatch, slowly pushing its way through the dry entrance.

       I cried and begged for them to stop, but they ignored me completely, relishing in my screams as the cock slowly worked its way into my dry cunt.  It must have hurt him to fuck me while I was that dry, but it hurt me a thousand times more.  I screamed and screamed until my voice was hoarse, but he never stopped his slow, relentless trip up into my body.  Someone shut me up by pressing another bottle of something into my mouth, and I drank it all down, greedy for anything to make the pain go away.

       The man raping me from behind finally got all the way in by the time I had finished drinking, and was staying there, with his cock buried to the hilt in my pussy, bragging about how it felt. 

I was in hell.  I could feel my pussy burning from the friction it took to slam his way in there.  Then he started raping me.  He pulled out, and grabbed my hips, then pulled me towards him as he pushed forwards, managing to fuck all the way back into me in a single stroke.  I screamed and cried, he laughed, and the process continued.  I writhed around, trying to get away from his cock as it destroyed my insides, but I could barely move.  Someone grabbed my hair, holding my head tightly as his buddy raped my cunt.  They enjoyed my mortified sobs and my feeble attempts to resist his invading cock, and they starting pulling at my nipple rings through the fishnet.  Then the man behind me grabbed both of my tits and started using them as handles to fuck me with, smashing them flat against my chest and pulling on the rings until I thought they were going to be ripped out.  I was positive that I was bleeding, and I starting thinking they were going to kill me.

He started fucking he even harder then, grunting in perverse pleasure as he plundered my pussy, ripping me apart.  Every now as then his hands on my breasts would switch from tugging at the rings to pinching my nipples so hard that they must have gone white, and then returning to my rings.  I regretted ever having gotten the damn things… they had made me feel cool when I got them.  Now all they made me feel was pain.

My head was tugged up, and I heard someone grunting in front of my face right before sticky gunk landed all over it, as one of my captors dumped a load of his jism on my face.  I don’t think I ever cried harder the entire time than I did right then.  I’d never been more disgusted than I was right there, with cum on my face and a cock violently raping me.

The bastard started slammed his cock into me faster and faster, and I knew what was happening.  I writhed and struggled and begged him not to, but I couldn’t really do anything.  He drove his cock as deep in me as it would go and exploded, a hot stream of sticky jism right into my belly.  I sat lay unmoving on the bench in horror as he sat there with his cock deep inside my cunt, and then he pulled his dick out with a disgusting plopping noise.

There didn’t seem to be any point in fighting anymore now.  I’d already been raped, and there was nothing I could do about it.  I was helpless, a limp doll for them to work their will upon and abuse as they wished.  I had resigned myself to being their sex toy for the night, and when I realized that, I launched into another wave of sobs.

Another bottle of alcohol was pushed into my mouth and I drank it all down, starting to feel drunk from such a rapid consumption of booze.  I didn’t really care.  Another man took the place of his friend and starting shoving his dick into my cunt.  I just tried to lay there limp, but eventually he got sick of me being so detached and wanted me to suffer more.  He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back with it, pulling himself deeper into my pussy as he tore my hair out. 

“More whiskey!” I remember begging, or something like that.  At this point, the memories all start to blur together.  All I know for sure is that they gave me another bottle while I was being raped again, and I drank it all.  And when the third man started to rape me, I drank another one.  And the fourth time, another one.

At this time, they must have been feeling increasingly confident that I wasn’t going to resist.  They were right… I’d been limp as a puppet with its string cut for the last two rapes.  Someone grabbed my head, opened my jaw, and stuck their dick in.  I didn’t even flinch – I just gagged as he raped me throat.  A little bit before he came, a fifth person took his turn in my cunt.  He had the biggest cock yet, and I could feel my cunt tearing a little bit as he pushed roughly in, despite how well greased my gash was by this point.  I zoned out rather than deal with it.  I barely remember it.  All I can remember for sure what that he beat me while he did it.  I’m sure I flinched as a heavy hand slapped my ass and tits with a brutality I couldn’t understand.  I had bruises for weeks afterwards.

I don’t know how many people raped me after that.  I tried not to think about it.  I’m sure at least one more person raped my throat and my cunt after that, but it could have been three times that number.  I just don’t know, and I’m not sure I want to.  My memory starts getting clearer again when somebody decided to try fucking my ass.

I got dragged out of my drunken stupor by the worst pain I’d ever felt.  My head was being roughly pressed down against the bench as someone was trying to muscle his cock into my virgin asshole.  It wasn’t fitting, and I tried to scream that out, beg him to stop, that I would do anything, anything at all if he would just leave my ass alone, but nothing came out but a horse gasp.  I’d been gagged again.  As if in slow motion, I could feel my asshole start to rip.  I’d never been fucked up as the ass before, despite that some of my boyfriends had wanted to – the idea always seemed like it was more of a mess that it was worth, not to mention painful.  I had no idea that I should have relaxed, that it would have hurt much less.  I resisted with every muscle in my body, trying to keep the invading rod out.  His cock slowly forced my sphincter open far wider than it was supposed to go, filling my mind with pure agony.

I actually prayed that the pain would kill me.  It felt like his entire cock was buried into my ass, and yet it kept going deeper and deeper.  Every second seemed like an hour to me as the huge cock slowly invaded me.  I could feel a pair of hands on each of my cheeks, splitting me as wide open as I could go.  He kept going deeper and deeper, and then someone congratulated him on getting the head in.  I was positive that being ass raped was going to kill me – if that cock went all the way into my ass, it would ruin be forever.

None of it mattered, though.  I couldn’t do anything to stop it.  Second by second he pushed harder, sinking deeper and deeper into my tight ass.  Every second was an eternity of agony.  And then he was pulling out.  I honestly thought it was over, that he was giving up.  Then he rammed back in, and my scream was deafening, even through the gag, even with my hoarse voice.  I could feel my ass bleeding, and prayed that it would so something to dull the pain as he started to pull back again. 

I could hear my rapists talking to each other, but I couldn’t put up the effort to understand the words.  All I could do is brace myself for another sanity shattering stroke of his cock into my ass, and I didn’t have to wait long for the second one to come.  Or the third.  Or the fourth.  Or the fiftieth.  It seemed like he was raping me forever, even longer than my first rape.  While I was being raped, someone put another bottle in my mouth and I gagged on the liquid, but I drank it anyway.  And then he was shooting a load in my ass, his hot fluids filling me up.

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Guilty Until Proven Innocent: Chapter 5: The Party

I’m not sure if I was raped again after that or not.  The next thing I remember was waking up in the too hot shower again, with scalding water coming down on my nude form.  Someone yelled at me to clear myself up, and then I felt a knife cut the tape on my arms.  The knife went to my throat next, and I was warned that if I touched the blindfold, I was dead.  I was shivering despite the hot water, and I cleaned myself up as best I could, washing layers of cum out of my hair and off my body, washing the filth off of me as though it would make me feel clean.  Nothing ever would again.

When I was done, I felt a hose being stuffed up my cunt and turned on.  The water was ice cold, and it shot up into my cunt.  I yelped and begged them to turn it off, receiving a slap for my efforts.  I shut up after that and just took it like a good little slut as they finished the makeshift douche and stuffed the tip of the hose into my ass, giving me a quick enema to get the cum out of me.  I could hardly even care at this point.

My hands were taped behind my back again, and I felt headphones get put over my ears.  After a few seconds, I couldn’t hear anything but white noise, and I finally figured out how they’d so totally deprived me of my senses earlier.  Someone fed me another drink, and then gagged me with my own panties, and tap was put over my mouth.  With a little bit of prodding from the knife and a firm hand on my arm, I was led out of the locker room and out of the school into the cold night air.  I was lead to some car, probably a van, and thrown onto a seat.  After I was in, the vehicle started moving.

Immediately the tape was ripped off of my mouth and my panties removed.  Another bottle was fed to me.  At this point, I barely had any idea what was happening to me, but I remember it fairly clearly when I was forced to suck cock in the car.  I think two or three guys were there, forcing me to suck each of them in turn for a while before moving onto the next one, but I it might have been more.  Eventually, my hands were freed and they had me stroke the cocks that I wasn’t sucking at the time, letting me take a break for another bottle of alcohol.  Then someone started to fuck me with bottle, and I started to cry again.

I’m not sure if any of them came or not.  They probably did, but I don’t remember it.  I don’t remember much of the night from then on.  All of my memories of the night come in flashes of being raped in all of my holes, one after the other, all night long.  Person after person raped me in the shower, on a bed, on the floor, on a couch...  I even think I ate pussy a few times during the night.  I don’t know how many times I was raped, or by how many people.  The only thing I can remember for sure was that I was not blindfolded, not gagged, and not restrained anymore at all.

I woke up on a carpeted floor, with a few people passed out all around me, in various states of undress.  The air reeked of sex, alcohol, and pot.   I got to my feat unsteadily, and walked into a bathroom.  I wish I hadn’t, because I saw myself in a full mirror and fell to my knees sobbing. 

My cunt and ass were red and swollen and leaking cum from god knows how many people.  My nipple rings were caked in blood, and ugly blue bruises covered them and most of my body.  My eye makeup had run continuously through the night, being smeared my tears into the blindfold as I was raped until I had a mask of black mascara and eyeliner around my eyes.  Worse of all with the jism – I was covered with it.  My hair was matted, my tits and legs were covered in crusted cum, and it was a miracle I could open my eyes or breath with all the dried cocks lime on my face.

I looked like a whore.  I felt like one, too.

I went back into the other room, looking at the people around me.  I knew all of them… they were people who went to my school.  They weren’t all men, either… there were several girls I know sleeping off their booze, mostly dressed.  I had no idea how I had gotten here or if these were the people who had raped me, but right now I just wanted to escape.  I grabbed some woman’s clothing off the floor, enough to make a passable outfit, and ducked back into the bathroom.  I washed my face and hair enough that I looked a little bit less like a whore, and got dressed.  Then I left, sneaking home, and collapsed on my bed crying. 

I told my parents I wasn’t hungry when they tried to get me for dinner and I still was crying.  I cried through the entire weekend, scared and confused, with no idea what had just happened to me or why.  Most of all, though, I was feeling dirty.  I must have taken thirty showers that weekend, but I still could feel the cum on me.  It will never come off.  I’ll have to live the rest of my life covered with the cum.

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Guilty Until Proven Innocent: Chapter 6: Guilty

It wasn’t until Monday, when school resumed, that I started to figure out what had happened from hearsay around school.  I had woken up at Frank Miller’s homecoming party, where they were celebrating the thrashing our football team had taken in game.  According to the rumor mill, I had offered to run a train at the party.  No one could remember who had first said that I was running a train all night, but everyone at the party knew that I was.  Most of them took advantage of me, too.  For those of you who are not caught up with high school terminology, a train is when some slut at a party offers to take on a never-ending train of lovers, all night.  And whoever had set me up for that had announced that anything goes, and that I was taking all comers.

This must have turned a lot of heads.  I used to be kind of hot shit around school, the pretty goth princess that wouldn’t give you the time of day.  Lots of people would have loved a shot at my cunt, and a equal number would have loved a chance to put me in my place.  I’m not hot shit around campus anymore:  Now I’m more like used goods.  When I tried to tell the guy who I thought was my best friend that I was raped, he laughed in my face, called me a slut, and told me that if I didn’t want to get fucked I shouldn’t have gotten so shitfaced that I asked for it.

That was the real beauty of their plan.  They covered up their rape with an orgy at a party that everyone “knew” had been consensual, or at least too drunk or high to know what the fuck was going on.  With that many people knowing what happened, the rumor mill would instantly turn me into a whore that let dozens of people fuck her all night.  No one rapes a girl like that; she’ll just spread her legs for you.  No one would ever believe me that I’ve been raped.

Essentially, I was guilty until proven innocent.  Unless I could actually offer up proof that I was raped, no one at school would ever believe me.  I doubt my own parents would believe me if they found out what happened at the party.  In the eyes of the world, I had become a slut – an untouchable girl, forever labeled as easy.

I never had another boyfriend in high school.  I didn’t even try to get one… I knew I wouldn’t be able to get anyone who didn’t want only to fuck me and dump me.  I didn’t want that.  I had enough trouble getting treated for STD’s, which I had several of.  Thankfully I didn’t get anything a little antibiotic didn’t fix right away, and I was on the pill so I didn’t get pregnant.

I’ve never told anyone else this story.  At this point, I don’t know if I actually care if anyone believes me or not; I just hope that having this story told will bring me some measure of peace and let me move on past it.

I only have 1 more year before the statute of limitations on my rape is up.  I’ve given up on justice entirely.  I just hope I can learn to live on.

End of Story: Guilty Until Proven Innocent

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That’s the end of the story.  Let me know what you think.