One Thursday Night

This is my retelling of a story told to me unprompted by a friend, nearly twenty years ago. I was somewhat shocked but also quite intrigued. It seemed unlikely but I never doubted she was telling me the truth, not least because she had no reason to fabricate her tale. Remember, truth is stranger than fiction.

All characters in this story are at least 18 years old.

One Thursday Night- A winter's tale

My name is Ellen.

When the weather was nice I walked to school. I was teaching English at the community college. It was my first job after graduating. With cutbacks in so many schools' budgets I was lucky to get it. My folks lived only fifty miles away and I was happy to be that close without having to live in my hometown. It made me feel independent while still having family and friends not too far away.

I rented a rundown but charming little bungalow a mile and a half from the school. If I cut through the park it shortened the trip by half a mile. Beside my house to the north was a narrow brick lane separated from my yard by an old wooden six foot privacy fence. The lane changed after crossing the street into an alleyway that led between the decrepit factory buildings of a long dead wire mill. That alley ended at a small parking lot on the northern perimeter of Mulvern Park. It was a large city park with a mix of forested parkland on the north side and opening on the south side to an immense green lawn the size of a couple of football fields.

After entering the park my path switched from post industrial decay to a fairly thick wood of oak, maple and beech. Here and there were bushy groves where the local kids drank, smoked pot and made out. After a a half mile it gave way to that huge grassy green and across the boulevard from that sat the school.

One evening in late November I found myself walking in near darkness across the green. I had been to a faculty meeting and it had run overlong. A male colleague, David, a guy I liked, had offered to drive me home but it was a nice Indian summer night with the temperature in the sixties and since it was only a mile walk to my house I told him thanks but I'd enjoy the walk.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "It's getting dark earlier and earlier."

"It's only seven o'clock. I'll be home before it gets really dark. I've been indoors all day and I'm looking forward to the walk. Decompression, you know? And it's such a gorgeous evening."

"Okay then. Be careful and don't talk to strangers or take candy from them." We both laughed and I bid him goodnight. I set out across the green. I didn't dawdle but neither did I hurry. When I reached the woods I wondered briefly if I should have taken David up on the offer of a ride- it was quite dark under the cover of those towering oaks and beeches. But it was too late now and I was only three quarters of a mile from home. I quickened my pace a bit and focussed on the street lights at the far end of the path.

I never saw it coming. Suddenly there was a large shadowy figure on the walkway in front of me. I gasped involuntarily, startled by the quickness of it, and turned to look back the way I'd come only to see two more figures behind me. They were too large to be women or children. As soon as I had looked behind me the first guy was on me. He grabbed my right arm and twisted it behind my back, reached around me with his other arm and clamped a hand over my mouth. He dragged me to the edge of the sidewalk where the other two seized my ankles and the three carried me into a thick copse of Russian olive.

I tried to fight. When I was first taken I tried to stomp the guy's foot. He picked me right up off the ground, thwarting that maneuver. I tried to twist to get a knee at his nuts but he was too strong for me. He held me with ease and wasn't even breathing hard. I kicked wildly at them but they were quicker and grabbed my legs.

"Quiet and we won't hurt you." The first guy said in a hushed voice my ear.

They peeled my trenchcoat off and spread it on the ground in the leaf litter and acorns. I felt one of them fiddling with the button and then the zipper on my skirt. At the same time someone was unbuttoning my blouse. One man held me around the calves and my skirt was pulled gently down, then off. I say gently because although they were restraining me it seemed they were consciously trying not to hurt me. Removing my panties took even less time and they groped my ass and my vulva, softly poking at me. Now I heard their breathing pick up. They were getting excited, getting closer to their prize. I looked at them to try to see who it was but they were all wearing dark clothes and ski masks. It was quite dark anyway.

I was pushed to my knees and first my blouse and then my bra were pulled off. I had the impression that they were still taking care to be as gentle as possible and a little shocked that I would register such a thought. The bastards were assaulting me, for fucks sake. Somehow I found myself on my back lying on my trenchcoat as someone knelt between my legs and prepared to mount me. Four strong arms held me in place, their knees pinning my shoulders to the ground.

The man between my legs prodded at my labia and I was surprised to find I was slick and wet. I realized later that my body knew what was happening and was trying to protect me but at the time I was embarrassed that my assailants had found me well aroused. He kept mopping up my flowing juices, swabbing my vulva with his cock, oiling himself up.

My senses must have been on hyper alert- I could smell his maleness. I was sure I could smell his musky cock.

I felt my pussy stretch and he entered me with an audible sigh that was amplified in the silence of the woods. God, he was hard. His body was hard with muscle and his cock was hard as iron with desire. His cock was almost too hard to be flesh and blood.

"Shh! Quiet, dude!" There was no answer and he pushed into me, and slowly began to fuck me. By this point I knew I couldn't fight them off and I was going to have to endure it.

"Your knees!" I jerked out from under the hand on my mouth and managed to croak out.: "You're hurting me." Immediately the weight of their bodies on my shoulders was removed and I was grateful and ashamed of being grateful at the same time. They continued holding my arms and pinning my shoulders but with a lighter hold now. They were very strong and I gave up the last bit of struggle. As long as they didn't hurt me I could get through this.

The man fucking me began to speed up very gradually. Of their own volition my knees raised up in the air. I willed them to lower back down but my assailants had noticed. They took me by the ankles and pulled my legs back and upward., opening me up even further. I moaned loudly. The two men holding me then pulled my upraised legs and raised them even higher. I was bent in half, completely open while he impaled me on his cock. They were squeezing my breasts and pinching and pulling on my nipples. The guy fucking me leaned down to suck my nipples and lick my breasts. I could definitely smell him now. I'd remember that scent.

"She likes it!" Someone whispered and there was hushed laughter between the three. It couldn't have been more than five minutes before the man in my cunt arched his back, grunted and shot his rapist seed inside me. I said a prayer of gratitude for that- one done, two to go. There was rustling and jockeying for a moment before the next man took his place, shoving the first out of the way.

"We ain't got time for courtesy, clown. Let me in there and let's get this bitch fucked."

The first voice- I recognized the hushed voice of the guy who'd initially attacked me- hissed "Shhh! God damnit! Quiet." I looked up at him and he was swiveling his head around, on the lookout for anyone else in the area. I could smell him but he was wearing some kind of cologne. English Leather. My ex boyfriend had liked it. I did not. The guy on top of me took even less time at it than the first and momentarily stiffened, looking skyward and plunging into me as if he wanted to split me apart. I could feel him pumping his semen into my pussy, his cock hardening and pulsing as he ejaculated. I had not though he could get any harder.

Almost instantly the third man knelt between my legs and poked at my vulva with the head of his cock. I was well dilated and lubricated by now with my own juices and the cum of two men. He slid in effortlessly. But he was bigger than the other two and stretched me even further, filling me completely. Suddenly it began to feel good, really good and that was humiliating...but still...it felt so good.

He drove deeper into me than the first two. I knew he was the man who had first grabbed me, not just by his hushed voice but by his scent. It wasn't cologne. It was his male smell, musky and overpoweringly sexy. I wanted him. I wanted his cock. As soon as I thought it I was ashamed of myself again. I hadn't had sex in a year but I had never imagined that I could get so aroused while being raped. He whispered in my ear.

"Just keep quiet. We won't hurt you." Then "Goddam, you feel good!"

I resisted the urge to tell him to fuck me harder. That would be too humiliating.

My hips were pumping upward to meet his thrusts though. I tried to stop, to disengage and let my mind wander but I was responding against my will. I came with a shudder and a groan. He knew it too and he laughed softly next to my cheek. All I could focus on was the power of my orgasm and the hard fucking I was getting. Suddenly it was over. He went rigid, shot his cum into me and mashed his stockinged face against mine, panting. Not fifteen minutes had passed since they'd grabbed me but it seemed like an hour. My assailant stood. I saw him in silhouette in the rising moonlight, his massive cock still standing up straight.

"Let's fuck her again." A voice whispered.

"Yeah, fuck that. We gotta get outa here."

They helped me to my feet. One of them handed me a tissue and I wiped myself, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold the Kleenex. Semen and my own juice was leaking down onto my thighs. One of them took the tissue and wiped my pussy for me. I was helped into my panties and they tugged my skirt up over my hips. They fumbled with my bra and I managed to get it on myself but failed to fasten it. I put on my blouse and it felt as soiled as I was, all covered with twigs and leaf litter. I ran a hand through my hair and it too was a rats nest of litter and debris. Without buttoning my blouse I struggled to get into my raincoat, so attacker number one helped me into it.

And then they were gone. I pulled my phone out of my purse. It was seven twenty five. It had only taken twenty five minutes for my life to change completely and irrevocably. I took a deep breath, relieved that it was over but still troubled my my response. I had not cried. I didn't cry now. I had become aroused and fucked them back. I shouldered my book bag and rushed home and I have no recollection of making my way there. I just found myself at the gate in my fence and went into the house.

I stripped off and stood under the shower for a half hour- until the water began to go lukewarm. I never seriously considered calling the police. I mean, why? Just so they could shelve and ignore another sexual assault and imply I'd somehow been at fault? So they could lose my rape test kit? Maybe my skirt was too short? My blouse too sexy? Fuck that noise. I toweled off and got into a comforting flannel nightgown. I set my alarm. I was exhausted and lay there in anticipation of the oblivion of sleep but sleep didn't come. I told myself I would not let this get the better of me. I'd go about my life as I had before. I would go to work tomorrow and behave as if nothing had happened. But still sleep didn't come. I kept replaying the rape over and over again. I had fucked them back. God what a slut I'd been.

But it had felt so good, those hard cocks all wanting me.

At three A.M. I reset the alarm for an hour early. I'd call in sick tomorrow. I was too exhausted and sleep deprived. I was beginning to make a plan.

In the morning I called off sick. Just the flu, I said. I was on the pill despite my lack of a sex life so I wouldn't need a morning after pill. Or maybe it'd be a good idea anyway, just to be safe. That seemed to be the smartest option. Then I got on my laptop and googled mace. Then pepper spray. A local gun store- The Bull's Eye- had pepper spray with an easy to use pistol grip. I called and the guy on the phone said they had it in stock. I cleaned up and got dressed, then drove to the other side of town.

On the way I stopped at the pharmacy and bought a plan B pill and a bottle of Dasani. Next, the Bull's Eye. It sat on a hill at the edge of town, a gray concrete bock fortress with no windows and a bull's eye target painted on the front. The target had one black hole in the center.

"I called about the pepper spray." I told the bald and bearded guy at the counter. He had a good start on a beer belly and looked like a poster child for Planned Parenthood.

He looked me up and down and then smiled. He wasn't leering. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, he wasn't leering. I had just been assaulted and I was hyper alert in the exclusively male store. It reeked of testosterone. I had never seen so many guns in my life. Did I need a gun? No, I decided. I'd probably have it ripped from my grasp and be shot with it myself. Maybe later I'd take a self defense course.

"Oh, sure ma'am. That was me you talked to. It's over here...I'll show you." He led me to another counter.

Maybe he picked up on my unease, maybe he was just a good solid family man who sold deadly weapons to the general public for a living. Keep the wife and kids stocked up with CornFlakes. Anyway, he was scrupulously polite. I had the fleeting impression he was overcompensating. Did I look like I'd just been gang fucked? Anyway, he showed me a number of products. I told him I liked the pistol grip pepper spray. It was pink. Why was it pink? So I asked.

"Why pink?"

He looked embarrassed and stuttered..."Well, it's mostly women who buy this product. Or their husbands, boyfriends...fathers." He held up his hands. "I don't make 'em. I just sell 'em. I guess they think women all like pink." I stared at him but made no comment.

After an awkward pause I nodded and said "I'll take it. Also one of these. And one of these." I picked out one that had a keychain attached and another that looked like a small fire extinguisher. Both were black. One for my keychain and one for my nightstand. The pink pistol one went in my purse.

I drove home. I had killed two hours. I made a fresh pot of coffee and sat at the kitchen table listening to it hiss and sputter. I still had not cried, and I didn't think I was going to. I sat and played it over again in my mind. I'd been assaulted and I let them fuck me. Not that I could have done anything different. They were three very strong young males. How did I know they were young? I just knew. They acted like young males. They got incredibly hard and after they'd raped me they wanted to do it again. And they were so quick with all their moves. Quicker than I was. Those fuckers had done this before. They had practice.

Although the rape was cruel by its very nature they had not wanted to hurt me so they were not needlessly cruel. Yes, other than violating my body against my will they weren't cruel, were they? My will had not proven to be rock solid though, had it? I remembered pushing my pelvis up into my rapists' groins, impaling my cunt deeper on their rock hard cocks. The shame of that had evaporated. I had stopped being humiliated by it. I wondered at that, that I was losing my shame. It wasn't my fault. It had just felt too good. I felt, if not serene, at least calm. Placid. Was that the right word, or was I just empty and in shock?

My body had responded, trying to protect me. That's why I was lubricating. That I had responded by fucking them back? That was a physiological response as well, to being bred. Simply my body reverting to survival mode. Poke me where I'm ticklish? I'll laugh. Shove a hard young cock in me? I'll dilate and orgasm. It can feel good even if you don't want it to.

I poured a cup of coffee and took it into the bathroom. Setting my cup on the edge of the sink I took a handheld mirror and examined myself. I wasn't sore and my labia looked like they did any other day. No redness or inflammation. No bruises anywhere except on the front of my shoulders. And those didn't hurt. So, no tank tops or camis for a while. It was winter anyway.

Was there something wrong with me? Shouldn't I be shattered? Or angry? Oughtn't I be angry? Maybe I was in shock, but I felt okay. I looked at it matter of factly. I'd been attacked and raped. I wasn't hurt and there wasn't even the tiniest likelihood that I was pregnant. They didn't threaten me to keep quiet or they'd kill me. They weren't the least bit interested in robbing me. I'd been scared at the time but...honestly was that what had turned me on? The element of fear, the danger? Yes, I'd been scared, really scared. If I was honest I had to admit I was also aroused. I mean, beyond my body's physical response to imminent sexual intercourse. But my assailants had been almost solicitous about not causing me any discomfort.

The fuckers. The bastards had me making excuses for them! But I didn't feel any real rage at them. I touched my labia and rolled the hood around my clit. That was a tesst- it did nothing for me but then, I wasn't the least bit horny. I stuck a finger inside my vagina. Still no soreness but no arousal either.

I had essays to read and grade so I spread my work out on the coffee table and got to work. It took me a while to concentrate but it was a welcome distraction and I spent a couple of hours at it, then made lunch, or was it dinner? I hadn't eaten all day but all I fixed was a package of noodle soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. That got me into late afternoon. I decided not to take the next day off. It was a Friday so then I'd have the weekend free. I watched a movie- "A Promising Young Woman". It was good and I cheered her on and cried when she died and I was suddenly aware that I had cried for her and her friend but not for myself.

I went to bed confused about that but not especially troubled. I was ambivalent about my ambivalence.

I was up at my normal time in the morning and walked to work again. It was another gorgeous sunny day. Shouldn't it be raining? Or at least cloudy and dark? I thought I might feel frightened or sick when I came to the copse where I'd been attacked but I wasn't. I ducked into the copse and there was no sign that anything unusual had happened there. There was a mud puddle with one footprint, a military or Vibram sole. A big one. One of the guys must have big feet. I thought back to the last guy who'd fucked me and his big fat dick.

There was nothing else to see so I walked on to school. I had a break at noon and then my last class was at two. I sat preparing my lesson when Leon came in. He was a bit of an enigma to me. He reminded me of a cat. He was stealthy somehow. I think it was unintentional but it might have been a posture, an attitude he'd adopted. He was quiet in class, well built and very good looking and never volunteered anything but was a pretty good writer. I looked up at him and smiled. Usually he played it cool and wouldn't return my smile but today he gave me a smug look, nodded his head knowingly and smiled. His eyes shifted away quickly and he sat as usual in the back of the class, next to his friend Rodrigo.

I followed him to his seat with my eyes. He was wearing black combat boots and the left boot - the very large left boot- had trod in mud. It was gray with dried mud along the edge of the sole. I began to tremble.