tagNonConsent/ReluctanceLesbian Nonconsensual

Lesbian Nonconsensual


My sexual awakening occurred when I was 21. Though not a virgin, I was hardly experienced. I had done the usual with a couple boyfriends, oral and "regular," you might say. I had never before had any experiences with another girl, except for masturbating in the same room with girlfriends at a slumber party--and that while under the covers, out of each other's sight.

At the time of this story, I was in the Air Force. My roommate, Angela, and I were on our way to spend Thanksgiving with her family at their vacation cabin in Michigan.

Angela, though both my roommate and friend, differed a bit in her attitude about sex. She hadn't been with another girl, either. She was much too uptight for that. On occasions when we had talked about sex, Angela made it clear that she considered oral, both giving and receiving, to be disgusting. That was her upbringing talking, very strict and very Catholic. That repressed attitude didn't carry all the way through, though. She wasn't a virgin, either, and we both liked to wear short skirts. We both appreciated the knowledge that our figures were being admired.

Anyway, here we were, on this road trip to her family's cabin. It was late, and I had taken the wheel while she reclined in the passenger seat and fell asleep. A couple hours after taking over, I pulled into a rest area to use the bathroom.

As I pulled in, I saw a van parked there with the sliding door open. Several girls stood near that open door. I pulled past them and parked. As I made my way toward the building, I looked them over. They were all quite tomboy-ish, very Jodie Foster-like. One of them was much more so than the rest, though. She had a lean, muscular build, not really soft like a girl at all. She wore military fatigue pants, and from her waist, a chain looped from her belt, hanging down almost to her knees.

I couldn't take my eyes off them. They really fascinated me, especially the one with the chain. I had no idea why they were just hanging around at the rest area. The hood on the van wasn't up, so it didn't look like they had vehicle problems. From where I was parked, I would have to pass them to get to the building, at least if I stayed on the sidewalk. As I neared the building, I continued to look them over.

They definitely noticed my gaze and returned it. Embarassed, I looked away as I reached the bend in the sidewalk that led to the door of the building. I heard one say, "I don't know. She's got a problem or something." I could feel their eyes on my back as I went inside.

Inside, I thought about them. Surely, they were lesbians. Not that I had anything against lesbians. I just had no contact with them and didn't give them much thought at all up to that point in my life. I thought of the one with the chain dangling from her belt. I chuckled over that overt, in-your-face sign of dominance, very male-like. I thought of how athletic they looked. Definitely the type that played all sorts of sports in school, with the muscles of an athlete, and short hair.

I can't say I was repulsed, exactly, but I had no lesbian tendencies about me at all. I had always been the kind to want a husband, a large family, the picket fence, the whole deal. Yet...these girls intrigued me. I thought of them as I peed and washed.

Finished, I went back out. I decided I was definitely not going to look at them. I had been pretty forward, rude even, by staring on the way in. As I went down the sidewalk and made the turn toward our car, I realized I should have cut across the grass and bypassed them. I couldn't help myself. I couldn't take my eyes off them, and they had their eyes on me, too. I was alarmed when the one with the chain stepped onto the sidewalk in my path.

"Hey, girl. Whatcha doin'?" It was, I thought, a mix between genuine interest and a challenge. I didn't know if she was offended by my staring and was getting in my face about it or trying to be friendly. Her voice carried both tones. Maybe my reaction would determine if she stayed friendly or not.

"Nothing. Just on a trip with my friend." I motioned over to the car where Angela napped in the passenger seat. I could just make out the top of her frame in the reclining seat. They looked that direction and turned back to me.

"What's your name?" Chains asked.

"Jill," I answered. I kept my voice positive, trying not to convey any hostility whatsoever. I didn't want a problem. I'm not a fighter, and even with Angela, I'd be no match for these five tomboys.

Chains looked me up and down, very openly admiring me. I shivered a bit. I was wearing a fairly short skirt and no jacket. I didn't plan on being out in the fall chill for any longer time than going from the car to indoors and back.

"That's a nice skirt," she told me, actually taking the hem in her fingers as if she were admiring it. I started a bit. I thought for a second she was going to rip it off me. I wasn't sure how to read the signals she was sending. Was she hostile? Was she putting the move on me?

"Look, I gotta get going," I said, nodding toward the warm car and the sleeping Angela.

"Sure," Chains said, not really stopping me from going, but not letting go of the hem of my skirt, either. I made no move to walk, though, because I didn't know if she'd let go of my skirt or hold on. Even if her grip didn't prevent me from going, my walking away while she held my skirt could make this into a confrontation that I didn't want.

"I'm Kendra," she said. "Look, there's no rush, is there? Your friend is asleep. You're not afraid, are you?"

"No! Of course not," I laughed, and all the other girls laughed with me, or at me, I wasn't sure which.

"You have a boyfriend, girly-girl?" Kendra asked.

"No," I answered honestly, too honestly. "Yes," I changed my answer, knowing immediately that it sounded like the lie it was. Kendra smiled and chuckled knowingly. She knew it was a lie out of fear, and I knew she knew, and she knew I knew she knew. The others looked on, perhaps amused.

"Where you going?"

I told her of our trip up to the cabin, Thanksgiving with Angela's family. I again mentioned that I really needed to go. The chill was really getting to me now. I shivered visibly.

"You and Angela ever sleep together?"

"No! Oh, God, no." I decided to put the "blame" on Angela. She'd never know and it wouldn't make any difference in the end, and I didn't want to appear to be against lesbians. Best to stay on their good side. "No, she wouldn't go for that."

"But you..." Kendra shifted her gaze from my thighs to my eyes. "You go for that." The back of her hand was now caressing the front of my thigh.

"Well, no. I never have." Maybe I went too far with not trying to sound against them. In so doing, I sounded like I was into women.

"Never?" Kendra shifted her hand so the palm side of her hand was now on the back of my leg, kind of cupping it. Now I couldn't just walk away without making this a confrontation. She wasn't exactly exerting any force. I could have easily stepped back through her grasp, but, again, that would be confrontational, and there were five of them, and I still wasn't sure of their motives.

"No. Well, some friends and I touched, you know, ourselves at a slumber party. You know." Now I was babbling. There was absolutely no reason to reveal that, but my nerves had taken hold of me and were running the show, including my mouth.

"I saw you looking at me when you went in. Why?" Kendra asked. Her hand was now openly caressing the back of my thigh.

"Oh, I wasn't. I mean, I guess I was a little. No reason, really." I ran through several contradictory answers, one right after the other, never settling on one, and knowing that they all sounded like BS and I sounded scared. I mean, I had been a little scared of these girls, or grrrrls, or wymyn, or whatever they were, all along, but I thought I had concealed it. Until now. I sounded scared and it was obvious to everybody. I looked over to the car, hoping Angela was up. She wasn't. I looked the other way, toward the highway, hoping a car, or better yet, several cars, would be pulling in. Nothing.

Kendra saw me looking for an out. "Need to get going?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, "I do."

She very abruptly took her hand from my thigh. "Go then."


"Yeah, go."

I again looked over my shoulder at the car. I could still see the top of Angela's reclining form. Knowing she was there was a comfort somehow, even though she was asleep and couldn't be much help even if she were awake. But seeing her and the car and knowing I could be on the road again in less than a minute represented safety in my mind, a handhold on normalcy.

So why wasn't I moving?

Kendra and the others looked at me, waiting for me to turn and walk away.

And for some reason, I didn't.

Maybe I just didn't want to "run." Having admitted to myself that I was scared, and knowing that they could hear that I was scared, it made turning and leaving seem like running away like a scared child. I had to stay a little longer and show them that I wasn't scared. Except I was. Pride, it is, which goeth before a fall.

After a few seconds, Kendra reached out again and took hold of my skirt, again running the material through her fingers. I shivered again, and remembered I was cold. I realized I had forgotten the cold for a few seconds, I didn't know how long. I crossed my arms over my chest for warmth.

"You're still here," Kendra said.

I had nothing to say. I just laughed, very nervously. Kendra smiled. Several seconds of silence followed, Kendra's pawing of my skirt the only action.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Kendra asked.


She looked me straight in the eye, very confidently. "Does the carpet match the drapes?"

My mouth opened out of shock. I searched for an answer, and had none. I was astonished. I never thought I'd be in a fairly deserted rest area after midnight, far from home, with an aggressive lesbian interrogating me about my red bush. I didn't know whether to be angry, scared, or what. The question had stunned me into neutral.

"Let me be completely honest with you, girly-girl. I intend to fuck you."


"Yeah. In my van." She looked over her shoulder at her van, sitting in a parking space, the sliding door open.

"Fuck me...in your van..." I repeated, parrot-like, stunned beyond coherent thought.

"Yep. Unless you walk away right now."

I again looked over my shoulder at the car with my sleeping friend, normalcy behind me, and these frightening yet absolutely fascinating wymyn in front of me, my eyes wide and my mouth still agape.

About two seconds passed. I decided to get out of there. And it was then that my body betrayed me by not moving. My brain issued the command: Feet--WALK! My feet stayed right where they were.

"Last chance," Kendra said. I looked around at the others, none of whom had spoken a word during this whole exchange. They now had wolfish smiles on their faces.

I again looked over my shoulder at the car with the sleeping Angela in it. Surely they wouldn't rape me while my friend was there. If my feet were going to betray me, at least reminding them that Angela was there would deter them. "My friend..." I pointed over my shoulder at the car.

"I'll watch," another said, speaking for the first time. Great, one of them finally speaks, and it's to volunteer to be the lookout while Kendra rapes me.

I had to get out of there! I felt my upper body shift in the direction of the car. Finally! My body was going to get me out of there! My feet, however, must have been horny, because they didn't move. It was as if my feet were glued there. Every other part of my body was on their way back to the car, but my feet weren't going anywhere.

Kendra reached out and--not gently at all--grasped my arm and pulled my toward her and the van. NOW my feet moved, but in the wrong direction! This couldn't be happening! Kendra led the way, me in tow, and the other four trailed behind. I was facing away from them and couldn't tell you what their expressions were.

She marched me straight to the van's open door and guided me inside, then stepped in after me. It was basically a cargo van, no seats other than the driver and passenger seats, with a lot of personal effects, clothing and such, in the back. She grasped my arm again.

"Right here--down," she ordered.

I sat on a pile of clothing, where she had pointed.

"Slide down, move your butt down toward the back of the van and lay down."

I hesitated. It was one thing for her to tell me she was going to rape me, which I was sure she wasn't going to actually go through with (I mean, who ever heard of women raping women?), but to expect me to help her...

She grasped my arm again, a little harder this time. I was going to have a bruise there in the morning.

"C'mon," she insisted, pulling me the direction she wanted me to go. I ended up laying on my back with my head toward the driver's seat and my feet toward the back of the van.

She pawed at my blouse, none too gentle. Afraid she was going to pop off some buttons, I told her I could do it myself. As I did, the reality sunk in. This was really going to happen! Kendra watched as I unbuttoned, undressing herself. I was taking my time, so she was a lot faster than me. She was almost completely undressed by the time I was done with just my blouse.

"Now the bra," Kendra ordered. I unbuttoned it and pulled it open. I hoped she wouldn't make me actually completely remove them. I don't know why she would want them off.

"She wears the front-buttoners!" someone from the outside chuckled. They had been completely silent, forgettable out there.

"Easy access," someone else remarked.

"..and I'm about to access her," Kendra said, making them laugh.

I looked back at Kendra, now completely nude, tomboyish, as far as I could tell in the dimness of the parking lot lights that shined in the open door.

She grabbed a bag and dug in it. She pulled out a contraption that I couldn't completely identify in the dark, but I already knew what it was.

"The skirt," she nodded toward it as she fumbled with the device I knew she intended to have inside me.

"I don't want to," I whimpered, realizing how pathetic I sounded.

"Shoulda thought about that before, girly-girl. Now get that skirt out of the way before I have to help you."

Worse than what was about to happen would be leaving afterward with a skirt torn to shreds, walking to the car half-naked, basically. I raised up, and to keep control of my skirt, just flipped it under me without taking it off. Kendra looked down at me, blouse and bra open, skirt flipped up, only my panties between her and what she wanted.

I looked back at her to see her stepping into the harness, what looked like a very large dildo bobbing from the front.

"The panties," she ordered, nodding at them.

I looked out the door to see her friends all watching, grins on their faces. This was really going to happen.

"Now!" she ordered. "Don't make me rip them off."

I raised my hips in the air and eased my panties over them and down my legs. I left one ankle in them to retain some control over them. Control was a commodity I was running low on at the moment.

"Natural redhead!" she exclaimed, almost triumphantly, like she was finally bagging some game she had long hunted. Her friends looked in and craned their necks for a good view of my bush. I couldn't believe women would treat other women this way.

She made some adjustments to her straps, and reached down and spread my legs apart, getting a better look at my bush. Without warning, she ran a finger up my slit and through my bush, startling me. I jumped. Her friends laughed. Settling between my legs, she put a hand on my breast, 34Cs, if it matters. She played with my nipple, kneading it between thumb and forefinger.

After a few seconds of that, she noticed that I had risen partially, trying to get a glimpse of the dildo. I was hoping it wasn't as big as it looked earlier. She took her hand from my breast and pushed my shoulders back down, then put her hand between my legs. I felt her lining the dildo up with my pussy. I wasn't the least bit aroused, no lubrication at all. I could feel her fingers at the head of the dildo, lining up at the right spot. I gritted my teeth, preparing for the pain.

She eased the tip in, not even half an inch, and stopped. I closed my eyes, waiting for the penetration. After a few seconds of it not coming, I looked up at her and saw her watching my face. When our eyes met, she thrust in, none too gently.

There's no other way to say it: it fucking hurt.

My eyes clenched shut tight, and my jaw, too, in pain. From times I had let a boyfriend in before I lubricated, I knew I would eventually lubricate and the pain would ease. I just tried to hold on until then. Unbelievably, I heard laughter from Kendra's friends outside the van. Surely they had all felt this before. How could they be so callous about it? Not just callous, they thought it was funny!

Kendra pulled back and started thrusting, in and out, hard. This was way different than sex with my boyfriend. My boyfriend actually cared about my pain and was gentle until I lubricated. This pain was horrendous.

I opened my eyes and looked at Kendra. "It hurts," I told her. "Could you ease up a bit?" She laughed in my face! She got into a pushup position with her hands by my shoulders. Her thrusts doubled in intensity. The pain magnified. I looked at her arms and saw that she was very fit, somewhat muscular. There was no way I could fight her off, even without her friends. She could toss me around like a rag doll.

Fortunately, it wasn't much longer before I lubricated, and the pain eased. It still wasn't gone, though. Kendra was anything but a thoughtful lover. I wondered if she was this rough with everyone.

"Car!" one of her friends yelled.

Kendra flattened out on top of me, and put a hand on my shoulder to keep me down. I saw headlights play across the interior of the van as the car passed.

"Wait," her friend said, "they're parking and getting out."

I debated my options. When Kendra said she was going to fuck me, I didn't know what to expect. I knew what a strap-on dildo was and what lesbians did with them. At least part of me expected this to be a little pleasant. If it wasn't, why would lesbians do it? But this was nothing like what it should be. This wasn't enjoyable at all. I debated whether I should scream. I looked up at Kendra. She must have read my mind. She put a finger to her lips, a threatening expression on her face. I was too afraid of her to scream.

We lay still like that for almost a minute. I heard car doors slam, and a while later, one of Kendra's friends said that they--the occupants of the car--had gone inside the building. Kendra assumed a more conventional position, one hand now on my breast, and resumed thrusting in and out.

The short break had helped. I now had enough lubrication to take the edge off the pain, though Kendra resumed her hard thrusting. She changed positions every couple minutes, sometimes up in the pushup position, sometimes down on top of me, and at one point, she even got back on her knees between my legs. If only she'd be reasonably gentle, maybe this would even by enjoyable, but I knew she wasn't concerned with my comfort. She was taking her pleasure in being rough.

"Here they come again," the lookout warned. This time, Kendra didn't stop. She knew that I was going to stay quiet. She just slowed down a little, to make sure the van didn't rock, I guess. I heard the car doors slam, the engine start, and the car pull away.

A couple minutes later, Kendra pulled out, leaned back, and caught her breath. I tried to do the same. A wave of embarassment washed over me as I thought of her friends watching me, and I reached down to cover my crotch. Kendra took the strap-on off and started dressing. As I reached down to pull up my panties, one of her friends stepped up into the van.

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byRedJill© 16 comments/ 280862 views/ 74 favorites

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