Perversions and Transgressions Ch. 02byOver Stimulated©
Seeing your girlfriend, your fiancée, your future wife, being raped in her sleep by your friend probably should cause some kind of response like anger at the friend and compassion for the girlfriend. But, I had none of these. The only thing I felt after watching the rape was stimulation. At first, I thought that I should be repulsed by my own response. I knew how I should feel, but I just didn't feel that way.
I often thought of that night. I played it over and over in my mind and every time it aroused me again. I had never seen anything like that before and had never thought it would excite me. If I had thought of it before, I'd have assumed it would bring the expected response. I should have become the angry boyfriend. I should have protected her honor. But, I didn't and I didn't regret that decision.
I was surprised that my girlfriend, Denise, knew nothing about it or at least she never showed that she knew about it. My friend, Thomas, however, became distant. He couldn't look her in the eye anymore and could barely bring himself to talk to me. I supposed that after the act he now looked back with regret and found it hard to face us. I wanted to tell him that I was fine with it and indeed wanted to find a way to make it happen again, but I couldn't find a way to approach him. So, eventually we lost touch all together. Soon after that I left for medical school anyway and lost touch with most of my friends from my college years.
At medical school, I found that I had trouble at times concentrating on my studies. My thoughts seemed to drift to that night. I imagined different scenarios how I could make it happen again. I began to form plans in my mind. I tried to tell myself I was only daydreaming and would never actually do it, but my plans became so concrete that I started to think I could.
One night when Denise had come to visit me, I masturbated over her while she was sleeping and played out the fantasy in my head. I was pleased to find that my moaning and ejaculation on her bare pubic area did not rouse her from her sleep. She was a very deep sleeper, which raised my excitement even more as it seemed my fantasies were more possible as a reality.
I began to make my plans. In my mind I tried to pretend that it was just a fantasy, that I would only go so far, and that the actual act would never happen, that I was only going through the motions to enhance the fantasy. But, as my plans came together, it became obvious what I was going to do. I had let my fantasies and desires overcome any morals I might have had. My degradation was beginning.
My plan involved a male student in my Gross Anatomy class who seemed to have rather low morals and a large libido. He bragged about his past sexual conquests, often using the cadavers to point out certain body parts he had manipulated or penetrated to achieve satisfaction. His name was Randall. He was the son of a surgeon and had been pushed down his path by his father. He resented it and used every opportunity to show just how much he disliked his situation. Despite that he was probably the most intelligent student in the class after me. He retained the knowledge easily and always scored high on examinations. It seemed he was going to be a doctor whether he wanted to or not.
Randall's attitude was one of expecting to get everything he wanted, everything had come easy to him and he expected that to never change. He was lazy, disrespectful, spoiled, and entirely immoral. I liked him the moment I met him. He was exactly who I was looking for.
The moment I realized this was during a class while we were dissecting the cadaver's liver. He started in on a story about a certain young woman whom he had deflowered in his Corvette after plying her with enough alcohol to leave her insensible to his advances. His main complaint was that he hadn't known she was a virgin and if he had known then he would have removed her from the car before penetrating her because the blood stains on the seats had made it impossible for him to continue owning the car. So, he traded it for a Viper. His story mentioned nothing of what happened to the young woman.
My task then became how to setup the encounter. I considered just asking him, but thought that would be rather inappropriate and also that would take some of the thrill out of it. So, I had to think of a way to bring them together, get her unconscious, and lure him into raping her. My plan was actually a simple one.
The professor of Gross Anatomy was a Dr. Engelhart, a rather gruff and serious man, who took enjoyment in the discomfort of his students. But one day a year he would discard his anti-social behavior to invite the students and professors to his rather large home for an elegant dinner and social mixer. It was understood that to decline this would be detrimental to one's student career and besides it was a good way to become known to the professors.
My plan was to invite Denise to Dr. Engelhart's party, bringing her to my med school for the weekend. I would take her shopping for a new dress, an elegant and sexy dress, a dress not too revealing that she wouldn't wear it and would even try to entice her to wear some lingerie beneath like stockings and a garter. At the party she would definitely drink some alcohol as it was almost required and I would sneak a crushed Valium into her drink. My mother had a standing prescription for Valium, so I had been sneaking her pills for years though I rarely took them and was more apt to give them to friends. The combination of alcohol and Valium would make her very tired, but not unconscious. By the end of the night she would be able to barely stay on her feet, at which time I would offer to drive Randall home since he would definitely be drinking a lot. Then, I would say I had to take her back to my apartment since she wasn't feeling well and upon arrival I would ask him to help me with her, invite him into the apartment and then invite him to stay the night. I would then put her to sleep in the spare bedroom that adjoins the living room. I would close the door to the living room so that I could apply a cloth soaked in chloroform to her face to be assured that she would stay unconscious. I would then leave the room, leaving the door open so he would have a clear view of her laying in her lingerie on top of the covers, offering a temptation I thought he would not resist. Then, I would retire to my own bedroom, down the hallway from the living room, and watch from a crack in the door until he took the bait. After a few minutes I would quietly approach the spare bedroom door to watch him take advantage of her. The plan was not perfect. It relied upon many factors, the most important ones being getting him to my apartment and hoping he would take the bait.
That night, I found that there were other factors of which I should have taken better account. The night did not go as planned. But sometimes when we are working to achieve a goal we stumble upon something even better.
Denise arrived at my apartment that Saturday afternoon. I took her shopping for a new dress. I suggested a strapless dress, cut low at the chest without being too revealing and with a slit up one side from the bottom to about mid-thigh. She is typically a very reserved woman, but she knows that she has a beautiful, athletic body from her hours spent on the tennis court for the tennis team at the school, and takes a guilty pride in her body. She was reticent of wearing the dress, but she soon accepted, as I knew she would, since it was appropriate for the occasion, beautiful, and expensive. Convincing her to wear the lingerie beneath it was a bigger challenge. Eventually, she agreed to the stockings and garters after she made sure that the top of the stockings would not be visible at the top of the slit of the dress. After trying them all on, she even became excited, thinking it would lead to a night of passion once we returned. Guilt threatened to settle in at the trust I was about to break, but my desire was stronger.
During the party my plan seemed to be working perfectly well. We arrived and she caught the eye of every man in the room. This was something I was used to and fully expected that night. She had fixed her long, blonde hair in loose curls that spiraled down past her shoulders and drew the eyes to her face, her neck, and eventually to her bust which was pushed up high by the bra so that one could just see the tanned skin of her chest and top of her breasts, just revealing enough to be titillating but not enough to be inappropriate, a subtle line at such occasions. When she walked on the high heels her leg parted the slit enough that one could easily see past her knee, but not too high on her thigh.
I found Randall by the bar and his eyes immediately swept over her, appraising her with no pretension of subtlety, which pleased me very much. Denise grabbed my arm, alerting me that she had noticed his gaze at her and wanted to let him know that she was clearly with me. I got us both a glass of wine and struck up a conversation with him. His eyes moved away from me often to look at her. She began to fidget and eventually pulled me away. I was unhappy, thinking that I had gone too far and she would be so repulsed by him that I would never have the chance to stick close enough to him to offer the ride home later.
My fears were eliminated when he was seated across from us at the table, allowing us to converse with him easily while allowing him to watch her. He was more cunning and tried to not stare at her as much, perhaps picking up on her discomfort. Before and during dinner she had two small glasses of wine that she drank very slowly. She was not much of a drinker though she was prone to imbibe on some occasions. It seemed that night she was more concerned with being sober. I didn't force her to drink, reassured in the knowledge that the Valium I would sneak into her wine after dinner would be more than adequate.
After dinner we retired to one of the larger living areas in Dr. Engelhart's house which had several couches and chairs arranged to promote conversation. The bar had been moved into that room. I escorted her to a chair on one side of the room and retrieved two glasses of wine. I walked into the hallway and once satisfied I was alone poured the crushed Valium, which I had kept in my pocket wrapped in a small piece of foil, into her drink and used my finger to stir it until it dissolved. I brought her the drink and stood beside her chair for the rest of the evening.
I was surprised when I found that many of the professors found their way to our spot of the room. I had expected to have to roam around to pay my obligatory greetings to each and engage in some inane chatter about my future hopes after medical school. But, drawn by her beauty they came to us and found that she would not converse about the same boring topics they had endured that night and found her to be charming and lovely. We had quite a crowd around us at times as students were drawn to the professors. Randall planted himself in the small circle as well.
My plan took its first bad turn when Dr. Engelhart made his way beside her chair and took almost her entire attention away from the party, causing Randall to soon drift away to other corners with ladies who provided him with the attention he craved. Dr. Engelhart did not look like the professor I remembered from class. His outdated and ill-fitting wool suits were replaced by an expensive and well-tailored suit fit to his frame which was surprisingly more trim than I had expected. His hair was actually styled and with the gray streaks along the sides he even looked distinguished. He looked ten years younger than in class. He was in a jovial mood, which I had never seen and he was even witty at times. She turned towards him, crossing her legs, to give him her full attention to a conversation that was more engrossing than any other that night. I knew she had drank too much wine when she crossed her legs and the slit opened up just barely past the top of her stocking, giving a bare hint of lovely, tanned thigh. I knew that if she were entirely sober she would have noticed and indeed would have never crossed her legs in the first place.
I tried to find a way to pull her away from her conversation with Dr. Engelhart, but instead became involved in it as well. I watched Randall from the other side of the room and saw one of the more advanced female students shamelessly and drunkenly flirting with him, her laughter breaking up conversations throughout the room. I was incredulous.
I became even more annoyed when I thought that Denise was actually flirting with Dr. Engelhart, laughing a bit too much at his jokes and turning her body towards him in an open posture suggestive of sexual acceptance. The slit in her dress opened further and now there was no mistaking the fact that she indeed was wearing black stockings. I think now that perhaps my perception was off because she has never really flirted with anyone before or since that occasion so perhaps it was just the alcohol making her more friendly, but at the time I was very irritated with her.
Eventually I was happy to see Dr. Engelhart's attention pulled away to attend to some task and Randall soon took his place with the female student at his side. Conversation began again and my hopes began to rise.
Then, the second incident occurred that diverted my plan. Denise became ill. She swooned in the chair and almost fainted. She fell to the side and I grabbed her to hold her up. She held her hand to her head and excused herself. People gathered around to see what was wrong. Dr. Engelhart approached quickly and kneeled beside her. She said that she had a bit of a cold from playing tennis in the cooler weather and that perhaps the wine was affecting her stronger. Dr. Engelhart looked into her eyes and felt her pulse and asked her several questions. She assured him she was fine and that she just needed to lie down.
I decided I would have to take the opportunity or lose it. It was much earlier than I had wanted. I told her I would take her back to the apartment. I was then going to ask Randall to help me with her to the car and then ask him to come back to my apartment to help me further in an attempt to keep my plan together. But, she declined, insisting she would be fine if she could just lie down, giving her excuse that she didn't want to take me away from the party which was too important and which I was enjoying.
Dr. Engelhart offered a bed in a spare bedroom and she took it. I was afraid this would derail my plan all together. But, I soon decided that it might be for the best. I could stay for the rest of the party, waiting until it broke up, the whole time keeping Randall occupied and away from the flirtatious, female student, and when it came time to leave I would have an excellent excuse to ask for his assistance.
I helped Denise stand and Dr. Engelhart lead us to a spare bedroom on the other side of the house. The spare bedroom was larger than most master bedrooms and was furnished with a king size bed, wardrobe, desk, and small entertainment center with television and DVD player. I laid her on the bed and removed her high-heeled shoes. She thanked us, settled into the bed, and seemed to immediately fall asleep.
Dr. Engelhart took her pulse again and listened to her breath. He assured me that she would be fine. He said that ladies would swoon at times, it was just part of their chemical make-up and he laughed. We walked from the room and he shut the door quietly. Dr. Engelhart assured me that he would check on her occasionally just to make sure she was doing all right.
Later, I would do more research and find that I had given Denise too much Valium. The Valium with the wine was a more potent combination than I had expected, especially for an accomplished athlete like her who's higher metabolism assured that the alcohol and Valium would be absorbed into her system quickly and affecting her sooner and more severely than I had assumed.
The party continued and I kept to my plan to occupy Randall, an almost impossible task as without Denise as bait his attention was continuously drawn to the female student. As the party began to wind down I took the opportunity to ask Randall if we would help me get her home that night, hoping to intercede in any plans he and the female student had been making. He coolly agreed and then turned his attention away. I only hoped that he would keep to his promise.
I decided to check on Denise to see if she was waking yet. I was deciding if I should use the chloroform or not when we got back to my apartment. Of course, I did not want to put so many chemicals into her body that she would have difficulties and I must state this was not only because of a fear of being caught. Even if my actions seem to prove otherwise, I was and am still very much in love with Denise and though I may indulge my own fantasies I endeavor to make her as safe as possible.
When I got to the spare bedroom I noticed that the door was ajar like someone had closed it, but the latch had not engaged and so the door had drift open. This puzzled me at first, but I remembered that Dr. Engelhart had said he would check on her and remembered that he had not been at the party when I had just left.
I approached the door and started to push it open, but immediately stopped. My breath caught in my throat and I went completely still, afraid to make any sound.
Dr. Engelhart was indeed in the room, but he was doing more than just checking on Denise. He was performing oral sex on her. His bare butt was pointed into the air as he knelt on the bed between her legs, his pants and underwear crumpled at his knees, while his head bobbed and swayed at her crotch.
Luckily for me the hallway was dark and so very little light crept into the room from the open door and he must have been thoroughly involved in his work because he hadn't responded to the slight squeak of the door hinges or my steps down the hallway.
I stood in the open doorway for at least a minute, astonished at the sight, and tried to keep myself entirely still and quiet. I tried to decide what to do, if I should back away slowly to hide better or if I should stay put for fear of making more noise. My mind had already made one decision and that was to watch. I had only to decide how to do it.
Finally, I slowly backed up, but left the door open halfway to where I had opened it already. I didn't want to risk trying to close it and making more noise. Plus, I would be able to get a better view and I wouldn't have to peek through a small open crack, a position which would be all too obvious to someone walking by that I was indeed spying on someone.
I moved so that half of my body would be blocked from his sight by the door and would allow me to move out of the way quickly if he were to look behind him. At the time though, he was too involved to look behind him.
He was licking her pussy with vigor, his head moving up and down. I could even hear the wet noise of his tongue sliding between her labia, flicking her clit, and plunging into her. They were lying in the center of the bed with her legs spread wide apart. I looked at her face and her eyes were closed with her head tilted to the side and her arms limp on the bed. She was still entirely unconscious. He had her dress pushed up past her waist and folded under her, exposing the entire length of her legs up to her hips. The black stockings had the usual effect of making her legs look even longer and making the skin of her upper thighs that much more enticing. He used one hand to pull her underwear to the side for access to her pussy and the other hand slid up and down her leg, moving along the bare skin of her upper thigh and down over her stocking, his fingers plucking at the garter strap. He was licking and sucking her pussy eagerly, moaning and panting.