Serial Victim

The first time I was raped it hurt, so I didn’t enjoy it, but I eventually got better at it.

Well, my real first time, he just molested me. He was a teenager, and I wandered off alone, even though my mama, and daddy told me not to. I had my hair up in 2 puffs like Minnie Mouse, and he said he liked my hair first.

He was white, but he was acting nice, and I never got to talk to no white boy about fashion before. I had on a purple dress, and fuscia tights (Which is a color combo white girls can’t pull off, but I seen them try it any way, cause Barbie did it.) He told me he liked them too, but then he got down, and asked me if they was stockings, or tights?

“I don’t know, what’s the difference?”

“Stockings are like thigh highs,” he pushed my dress up over my legs, gripping them up to the top, “And tights go all the way up.”

“Oh, tights.” I nodded, and even pulled the front of my dress up. He was already rubbing my booty on the sides with his fingers, and then he slipped his thumbs under to hold my dress up. Rubbing my panties in the front of my cooch, where I still had a little lump of baby fat.

At least, I thought it was baby fat, instead of my pubic mons. That’s usually covered up by your pubic hairs, if you got some, but I sure didn’t. Not for a few more years.

“Huh, it must be uncomfortable wearing panties, and tights.” He pulled them even tighter with his thumbs, to tell me why I was starting to feel weird, and squirming. “You know, it’s much more comfortable if you wear just one or the other.”

“Um,” I thought but I wasn’t even thinking about that lady at school told us to to tell an adult we trusted if a stranger tried to touch us, and it made us uncomfortable. She even said “Anywhere that is covered by a swimsuit,” or something like that. I remember she said swimsuit, because another girl raised her hand, and asked if she ment a 1 piece, or a 2 piece.

Either or, but she could’ve just said a bra and panties. We knew what those was, even if we’re too young to wear bras, some of the girls in school had at least training bras on, and I bet some of the 6 graders even had A cups. Real bras, with hookups in the back, and everthing.

I wan’t thinking about none of that, cause he explained it. He told me what my problem was is wearing underpants, and tights on under my dress, so I had to take one off.

“Tights,” I decided, but I had to kick off my shoes first, and he let me go so I could pull my pants out my tights.

Then, he felt up my legs again, to hold my dress up, and rub my panties directly with his fingers holding my booty so tight, it clenched up in the crack from the pressure. “There, doesn’t that feel better?” I nodded, but instead of stretching them up, so they cut in my thigh gap, he pushed them down so they was loose, and then he slipped in his thumbs to rub me directly.

Right on the cooch, both thumbs up to my bald mound (Mons means Mountain in Italian, but it was just a little mound.) Then, back down to mash my lips together, like my butt cheeks to clap my crack in back. Then, up and down, rubbing my booty with his fingers, and gripping the front of my lap up under my skirt.

“Uh, huh!” I nodded, and all a sudden I hugged him. I didn’t get off on it, but I sure weren’t shivering from the cold, I’ll tell you that! Squatting on his toes likeat, he was too low to see his dick, hard or not in his pants, and drawers, but I didn’t even know to look.

“Huh, they match.” Sure enough, I put on my purple pumpkin panties this morning, to match my purple dress, but they had orange pumpkins all over them too. I guess leftover from Halloween time, but they weren’t part of no costume, or nothing. Just regular whole pumpkins, not jackolanterns with smiley faces, neither.

My momma wouldn’t never let me wear no naughty costume, where you could see my drawers, even if I bent way over. She sure enough did, but she was, well. Around 30, I’ll say that. Give or take a couple years, you know what I mean? Old enough to dress up naughty for Halloween, but no way she buy me nothing like that. They just came in a pack, and while we was at Walmart shopping for decorations, I needed some drawers, so she picked up a pack.

So anyways, I changed my mind, or he talked me into it. I forget what he said, but I wound up pulling down my drawers to put my tights back on under my dress. Oh yeah, so I could stuff them in my purse, since it was too full to roll up my tights in, and he got a good look at my pink insides before I pulled them up.

“Ih hihn him!” My auntie Chaquelle, she always said if you ain’t got nothing good to say, keep you mouth shut. You know, “Mhm?” When a black lady say that, it means she don’t wanna say what she thinking, so she keep her mouth shut. Like white girls bits their lip, or whatever.

I knew that, he was molesting me, before he even let me go, and got off me, but I didn’t want to stop him. I felt so sexy for the first time in my life, and he lied. Of course, all that bullshit about me wearing tights and drawers was just to get me to take them off. I was even more uncomfortable walking back in just my tights, so everything squished together, and I hoped nobody saw me walking funny, but it weren’t just that.

I couldn’t wait to get back in my room to try and touch myself the way he did. First inside my tights, then I took them off, and then I got naked on the bed until my sister got home.

“Girl, what the hell you think you doing?”

“Nothing?”

“Mhm? Well quit it.” She made me get dressed, and kicked me out, so she could call her friends, and talk big girl shit. Since she was the big sister, and I weren’t supposed to know nothing about that. Mostly money, and boys that got money. A jobby job, and a car so you don’t got to take no bus on a date, like some poor loser.

We ain’t ghetto, at least we never lived in no housing project. Yeah apartments, but a nice one, with white people running the complex, and everything. I mean mixed race, but still. Not like middle east or Indian managers, and owners, and stuff. I’m not saying they terrorists, or even Muslims, I’m just saying. White owners, and managers and stuff, they care about keeping it classy, but brown Asians just care about money, so they cut corners is all I’m saying.

So anyways, I remember it was a hair day, cause she was doing mine up in twists when I asked her about what happened. I just washed it when we got up, but you got to let it air out before you put it up in twists, or box braids. Especially type 4a hair like me, my sister, our mama, and pretty much everone in our immediate family, anyways.

Only I didn’t wanna tell her I got myself molested, so I said a friend. An older girl at my school, she told me about it, and the boy’s younger too. Middle school, instead of high school, just to make it sound like it wasn’t what it is. I lied, a little, but not cause I was worried about no child molester getting in trouble. I guess I didn’t like feeling stupid, like some stupid girl gone and got herself molested when I knew better.

Like I said, our momma didn’t raise us girls like that, we got brung up right. Didn’t stop him, and me liking it too. So, I guess I was feeling like a slut for liking it, too. That’s about all I remember about it, but by the time she picked all the pills out, and got the twists tied up, I felt a little better.

I started doing it anyways. I mean dressing naughty, to see if I could get molested again. Like putting on good modest school dress code clothes, then taking some off, and pulling up others to show off what little I had. I even talked to the Korean Kogal girls.

I know, Kogal started Japanese, they told me. But Japan right there, and they got they K pop from J pop? Yeah, they even lent me some of they sailer suits, since we didn’t have no uniform at our school. That’s how it started, they got this school uniform at Japanese schools, I’m sure you seen it. Even if you ain’t into no Manga, Ecchi, and Hentai, I know you seen Sailer Moon, and her gang, don’t lie.

Well, Kogal is basically all the fashion tricks they do with that uniform. Like you can pull up the skirt, and put a belt on up over your hips. So, it pulls your waist in, and makes my booty stick out, since I ain’t got no flat boxy asian butt. I ain’t got no asian eyes, nor moon shape face, neither. I wish my best side was up front, so I can look at boys check me out, but I ain’t asian. I got booty, though, and that makes the skirt so short looking, it shows off a lot of leg.

Then, you take them knee high tube socks, and push them down so they bunch up around you shoes, and that shows off even more. I even found a pack of those jail stripe drawers, the hentai girls wear, and let me tell you. Those are eye catchers to get them looking up your skirt.

“Oops!” Make sure it squeals a little when you drop something, so you got to bend way over to pick it up.

So, that’s as good a excuse as any for the first time I got myself raped. “She was asking for it, look what she was wearing!” Yeah, but I weren’t asking for that, and he didn’t even let me say no. I sure squealed as loud as I can, but he put a bag over my head. Rolled up, with the draw string in it, so I can’t pull it out from between my teeth. Clever suing that like a gag, and a blindfold all rolled into one.

Then, he picked me up, and carried me off a long way. Kicking, and squealing the whole way. Ask me how nobody saw that, or they didn’t do nothing to stop it. Then, he held me down, and tore off my panties. He slapped my cheeks a lot, spanking me to get it up, before he raped me. Stuck it in 1 hole, then pulling out, to stuff it up my ass. He just went back and forth that way, sticking it in, and pulling it out to stick it back in the other hole.

Instead of fucking like a normal person, IDKY. Honestly, I tried to figure it out, but the best I can explain it is maybe it made him last longer. It sure felt like forever, but he didn’t wear no rubber, or nothing. So, when he started busting his nut, he pulled out, and stuck it up my ass to hold it in, and finish it that way.

I curled up, and cried for hours felt like before I even felt the knot in the back. Picked it open with my nails, or what ones I didn’t peel off scratching him. He never even got to make no excuses, like I was dressed like a slut, so he took me like a slut. I just crawled out the alley, and got up to wave my hands, and yell “I got raped!” until somebody pulled over, and took me to the cops.

That was jut the first time, but they done a Rape Kit. That was almost as bad as getting raped, even though it was a Mexican lady. A nurse at the hospital where they took me, and scraped my nails. Sprayed something on my knees so they stopped bleeding, and swabbed me out in both holes. My mama showed up with sweats to change out of the hospital smock into, and she just looked at me so disappointed.

“Mhm?” She didn’t have to say it. She already told me not to go out, shaking my booty like a ho. What I think would happen? I tell you what, I thought all men would be as nice as that first white boy that molested me. I never got a good look at the one what raped me, the first time. I was just walking down the sidewalk, then Shoop! It went dark, and I got took, just like that.

I’m lucky he weren’t no strangler, or one of them sadistic men, got a secret dungeon at home. Then I wouldn’t be here to tell you this. They never caught him neither, but come on, man.

A slutty little black girl, got what she deserve, right? Ain’t like they looked too hard for him, neither. I don’t look like Amber, or Megan. That’s why they ain’t called a Anita alert, or Moesha’s law. You know a million black, and brown girls got kidnapped, raped, and strangled before some pretty little white girls made them get off they asses, and do something about it.

Shit, if they had caught him, he could’ve gone all the way to the Supreme Court, or the President. Got a hundred of sick rapist fucks just like him in the Senate alone.

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