Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: SE USA
|Introduction: Stan finds the what and why of his feelings, longings, lusts and desires.|
Fingering through the books I saw about 12 of them. I did some quick reading, almost all boring shit. Mom really liked writing about her dreams. Then I found the one dated 18 years ago. The opening pages were about her dating and bitching about how controlling her parents were. I found the page where she met dad. Boring, blah-blah-blah. I found the one where she was so happy. "
"He FINALLY PROPOSED TO ME! I AM OFFICIALLY OUT OF HERE SOON"!
More pages about planning the wedding. I was getting bored and tired of looking.
My blood ran cold when I got to page #207...
I didn't understand what I was reading so I turned back several pages. Here's what I read:
We got back from our honeymoon last night. I wish Tom and I could have taken more time. The wedding was fabulous, the honeymoon was awful.
First the wedding.
LOVED IT! Daddy was so proud and I think he actually cried a couple of times. Tom was so handsome. I fell in love with him all over again as I looked at him standing next to his brother Ray, his best man. Even mom seemed happy! When has that ever happened? LOVE my wedding set! All the girls at the office were totally green with envy of my engagement ring. They're just going to DIE when they see the matching wedding band. Rev. Buchanan gave the most beautiful prayer for us. The reception was great. Only Joanne and Polly and Mr. Kinkaid from the office made the wedding. Was glad they could stay for the reception.
Tom and I couldn't take a real honeymoon. No money. Just about wiped our bankroll out just paying to get our apartment set up. Totally more expensive than I ever thought it would be. All the deposits and plus the first and last month's rent only left us with a couple of hundred dollars. Spent the night at the Hilton Downtown. We left the reception in Tom's (now our) Torino. It's a fun car but not something we should be driving. Trying to talk Tom into looking at something more appropriate. Drove around and got honked at because all our friends and family wrote 'JUST MARRIED' all over the windows. Got to the hotel, Tom was so proud to check us in as Mr & Mrs. He's such a sappy guy and I love him so.
Then things went bad. Tom carried me across the threshold and laid me on the bed. We kissed passionately. I yelped when I felt his hand touch my breasts. He smiled and thought it was cute. But he wouldn't stop. I knew what he wanted. Journal, Tom and I were both raised devout Southern Baptist. I know I'm having a harder time with this than Tom is. I made myself just lie still while Tom started undressing me. I know I was supposed to be helping him but I just couldn't. When he got all my clothes off he touched me down there. I froze. I'm so ashamed. We're married and I was afraid to let him touch me. I couldn't get daddy's face out of my mind. I was going to just lie there and let him do what he wanted but then I started crying. Tom was so sweet. If he weren't he would have kept going and just got it over with. I almost wish he had. Instead he just held me and let me cry. He tried later that night and this one was as bad as the first try. I couldn't stop crying. I told him to just go ahead. I know he thought I was angry with him because of the tone in my voice. I was angry. Just at myself not at him. I don't want to be like mom, frigid and no passion. I married Tom because he's the man that I want to make a life with.
Tom tried 1 more time yesterday morning. I was no better and this time he got mad. I know he just hates me. I cried the whole time he was in the shower. He'd packed us up while I was in the shower. He wouldn't talk to me. I am just so afraid I'm going to lose him. I can't stand the fact that he hates me so. He was so disappointed in me that he slept on the couch last night. I cried myself to sleep and woke up crying. I can't lose him. I can't have him being mad at me like this. I just don't know what to do about it.
Anyway mom, who's no help, told me just lay there and do my duty and let him do what he wants to me and I shouldn't cry about it. SHE is part of the reason I'm like this now she's mad at me because I'm doing what she and daddy taught me.
Mom said I need a break. I still have some furniture at her place. She said if we get it moved in time we can go to the fair later this week.
Got the bed out of mom's house and in the guest bedroom. Mom got snotty and asked me if I was even going to bother taking the crib. I can't stand how she treats me. She's on Tom's side and I guess she's right but you would think she would still back me up.
Tom's at least moved into the bedroom finally. We're talking but it's all civil and tense. Still haven't made love to him. If he'd just do it then I know I would be better. I even tried to tell him but he won't talk to me about it.
I asked him if he wanted to meet me at the fair friday after work since I got the day off. He told me he'll see. He's always off at 4pm on fridays and can make it to the fair by 4:30. I told him I would meet him at our favorite corn dog place. He said I shouldn't bother and just go on and have a good time. If he comes he'll find me.
Mom called. Rich and his friend Jimmy will be going with us.
I told Tom if he wanted to be with me to meet me at the corn dog stand.
Mom just called. She wants to just meet at the fair. She has to pick Jimmy up and doesn't want to be there all day long. I told her Tom was supposed to meet me after he gets off work.
Tom didn't kiss me good bye when he left this morning. He's being a jerk and I don't like it. I know I'm letting him down but he doesn't have to act like this!
I'm home from the hospital. I was raped friday evening. Tom never showed. The guy who did it was a young guy, maybe younger than me. He's in jail at least.
I'd spent the day with Rich and his buddy Jimmy. Mom just hung around the farm animal tents. Rich and Jimmy said I was boring and went off on their own right after I bought them lunch. I've never been called boring. After being married 1 week and my own husband still hasn't done anything with me then 2 teenagers called me boring. I wasn't happy.
I was sitting in the tent to get out of the sun. I was depressed. I didn't want to cry in public and fought back the tears. It wasn't Rich's fault. He's 11 and is just interested in having fun. This young guy, cute but kind of scruffy looking, brought me over a cup of lemonade. He asked me what I was so upset about. I tried to smile it away and told him I was ok. He introduced himself, Taylor Vincent. He asked me again what was wrong. I told him I was just having a bad day. He smiled at me and told me I was too pretty to be crying. I made sure to bring my left hand up and let him see my wedding rings. I told him I was waiting on my husband to show up.
I should have lied. I should have told him my husband was in the bathroom or something. It just didn't occur to me to lie to him. He asked if I wanted to talk about it. I thanked him for the lemonade and the offer but I was fine.
Taylor left me after asking if I was sure. I told him again I was fine and he left. At 4:15 sharp I went to the corn dog stand, bought a coke and waited. 4:30 came and went and no Tom. I looked at every face to see if I could spot him but he wasn't there. 5 o'clock passed and still Tom wasn't there. I sat there and by 5:30 I was back to fighting back tears.
I heard a friendly voice that I couldn't quite place ask me why I was still sitting there alone. It was Taylor again. I asked him if he was following me. He told me he was working there at the fair and had just ended his shift on the ferris wheel. He said he saw me from the ferris wheel and saw I was still alone.
Again I was S-T-U-P-I-D! I told him I guess my husband wasn't going to make it. He asked if I was ok. I told him I was going to just go home. I knew Rich and Jimmy were to look for mom and would go home with them. I didn't need her crap right now. He asked if I wanted to take a ride on the ferris wheel. The sun was setting and I always so loved riding it at night. I knew then it was wrong but it felt good to have someone, even a stranger, be nice to me and want to spend some time with me. I asked him if we could wait until it got dark enough then ride. He said sure.
We rode the roller coaster. He knew the guys who were running the rides. They let us cut in line even though I didn't want to because I didn't think it was right. They put us in the front car. We got to ride the roller coaster 2 times in a row. It felt good to laugh again. I did tell Taylor a couple of times that I WAS married, but I was having fun. He just seemed so nice, like he wanted to help me. We rode a couple of other rides then we went to the haunted house. It was one of those that have 2-seater cars and you ride through the haunted house. Taylor's hand touched mine. I pulled my hand back because I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. His hand landed on my knee about halfway through the ride. In the midst of all the banging around back and forth I pulled his hand away. He looked at me, gave me a wicked smile and I told him to be nice.
Finally it was time for us to ride the ferris wheel. We got to jump line and by now I was ok with that. We got in the small car and rode up. The wheel turned a couple of times then began to cycle other riders off. Taylor gave his buddy the sign and they sent us up for another ride. The wheel stopped at the top. The night air was cold. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. I'd been sweating in the heat all day and now I was chilled. Taylor saw that and put his arm around my shoulders. I wasn't comfortable with this and told him I was ok. Suddenly he turned to me and kissed me. His lips sealed over mine. I felt his tongue slip into my mouth. I was so caught by surprise that I didn't fight him off immediately. I guess it was just a couple of seconds but I pulled away. I was so caught off guard that I slapped him and pushed him away. I pushed to the opposite side of the car and put as much distance between us as I could. I told him don't ever touch me again. I said some words I don't usually use.
He seemed so sorry and kept apologizing. Finally the car started moving again and by the time they let us off he'd convinced me how sorry he was, how awful he felt. I stormed off and was going home. This was a bad situation and I'd been stupid. I was going to leave and get myself out of the bad situation. Taylor followed me and apologized 1 more time. We got to the old west village which was now all but empty. It wasn't as noisey or hectic. When he hooked my arm he wasn't being ugly about it but I could tell how much stronger than me he was. He turned me around and just wanted to apologize 1 last time.
So unBELIEVEABLY DUMB!
If I'd not been so distracted and stupid I would have noticed that by now we were in the dark and there was no one else around. He just seemed like such a nice guy. He just got the wrong idea.
He asked me if I wanted to stay, I told him no, I was going home to my HUSBAND!
He said my husband was an idiot to stand me up like this.
I was so angry and furious. The worst thing was he was right. I told him no matter what I was married and I was going home and that was that.
He asked me if he could walk me to my car. I got the impression he still had the wrong idea about me. Finally I got smart enough to tell him no, leave me alone and I was going home. I turned around to walk away.
I didn't feel the punch. Based on what the cops told me it looks like he hit me in the back of the head with something blunt and metallic, probably a wrench. The entire world went black and silent.
I woke up to find myself draped over Taylor's shoulder. He was walking. There were woods all around us. I could barely even hear the noise from the fair. I couldn't see the fair anymore but did see lights in the distance. There were heavy woods between where we were and the fair. I planted my hands on the small of his back and pushed. I landed on my feet. Ordinarily I could have turned and run. Journal my eyes suddenly went bleary, my knees buckled and I fell. My head ached suddenly and I heard a ringing in my ears. The doctors say I had a concussion. Finally my eyes started working again. At least I wasn't seeing 2 of everything.
He was standing over me. He was yanking his shirt over his head and pulling his pants. down. Journal I prayed right there for God to not let this happen to me. He bent towards me. I pushed my hands up to try and push him away. Instead I felt him tugging at my t-shirt. I heard it rip first before I felt it. He jerked so hard that he yanked me off the ground then I fell back down when my favorite t-shirt ripped open. I rolled over onto my side to try and crawl away but he kicked me hard in my stomach. He knocked my wind out. Even though I could feel him tearing at the button and zipper for my shorts it was all I could do to struggle for air. Finally I gulped in a deep breath of air and screamed. He bent over and punched me on my jaw. That was when he broke my jaw. I saw stars. I was dazed. I couldn't tell what he was doing for several moments. By the time my head cleared I found he'd wrenched what was left of my t-shirt off and tied it around my wrists and tied me to the base of a tree. He'd torn my panties off, gagged me with it and tied my bra around my head to hold my panties in my mouth. I felt his weight on me. I felt his thing between my legs. He moved and it rode over my thigh. It felt like a heavy snake. I felt his fingers groping me. It hurt so bad. I felt them digging around inside of me and thought he was going to tear me up inside. I kept screaming into my gag. I felt his mouth on my breasts. I felt him biting my breasts. I felt 2 fingers, then 3 inside me. He shoved them deep inside me then pull them out then shove them back into me again.
The pain was excruciating.
I felt his knees gouge into my inner thighs and force my legs apart. I felt the head of his thing press against me. For the first time since Taylor attacked me my eyes met his. They were so evil. They burned into my eyes. I couldn't take my eyes off him. He sneered then thrust his thing into me.
I saw stars again. This was pain like I could never imagine. I would have sworn he was ripping me in half. He began to bend his back and thrust into me over and over again. I heard him say something like "you're not making enough noise". Without pulling out of me he leaned over. I felt something cold and metallic touch my breast. I felt the teeth dig into my nipples. I felt his wrench tighten as it squeezed my nipple. Although I couldn't really feel it through the searing pain, he'd tightened the wrench then let it dangle from my nipple. Taylor went back to raping me. He slammed his body down on me again and again.
Journal I can't describe what I was feeling but suddenly I became lightheaded. I thought maybe it was all the pain and that I was going into shock or something. All I knew was his thing inside me didn't hurt as much. Then I thought maybe he'd torn me open and that's why it wasn't as tight or dry anymore.
When it hit I squeezed my fists closed so tightly my nails dug into the palms of my hands.
He grunted hard and heavy then I felt him squirt inside me.
I prayed if God couldn't stop this from happening the at least let him be done with me. I just didn't want him to kill me now. Instead Taylor sat up then forced me to roll over and up to my knees. He pushed me forward so my shoulder dug into the abrasive bark of the pine tree. My hands and wrists ached and so I let them hang loose as I leaned against the tree, braced by my shoulder.
Then I felt Taylor lining up behind me. I tried to kick at him but he spanked me hard. My teeth dug into my panties as I tried my best to scream for help. I felt the round head of his thing sliding back inside me. I felt something thick and warm dribbled down my thighs. I happened to look down. Taylor had put my white shorts underneath me. There was a full moon out so I could make out the small blood patch that stained the white cotton shorts. In my state I'd figured he'd torn me and damaged me and that's why I was bleeding. I wouldn't realize that he'd ruptured my hymen until I was in the hospital later. Taylor slammed himself into me. Each time he did I felt the thick warm goo dribbling down my leg. I thought at first it was my blood. I glanced down again, frightened I might bleed to death, only to see a creamy substance running down my thigh.
Taylor reached around and opened the wrench and released my nipple. The sudden rush of pain hit me. I'm pretty sure I passed out. The next thing I knew I woke up and found him tightening the teeth of his wrench into my right butt cheek. I felt the tip of his thing between my cheeks in my crack. I screamed into my gag as I felt him shoving himself into my behind. When he got it into me I passed out again.
I woke up to find him standing near me. I was still tied to the pine tree. He was dressed and smoking a Camel non-filter. It was absurd that I knew that because I suddenly remembered that's what daddy and Tom smoke. He must have heard me and known I was awake. I tried to move away from him as he walked toward me. He didn't seem too concerned because I obviously wasn't going anywhere. He dropped his Camel on my stomach. It took a second for the heat to burn me but I yelped into my gag and managed to move so it fell off my stomach. He leaned toward me and reached for my hands. At first I thought he was going to untie me. Instead I felt his fingers as they twisted and tugged at my wedding rings. I clenched my fist. Taylor kicked me in my ribs. I let my fingers go limber as I gasped for air. I felt him slip them off.
Taylor didn't speak. He didn't say anything. He didn't threaten me. He just left.
I couldn't free myself. I was totally exhausted and I guess I fell asleep. I heard the panting and then heard the dog bark. I started trying to scream. Then I heard the whining buzz from the dirt bikes. I heard the voices. One of them said they thought they saw something. I heard their footsteps as they came closer to me through the tall grass. I saw them, a tall one and a short one. The tall one yelled at the short one, telling him to go to get help. The tall one pulled his helmet off. He bent over and untied my wrists. My arms ached. I couldn't feel them. They were numb and useless. I rolled onto my side and began to sob. Tall man slowly, carefully unfastened my bra and gently pulled my panties out of my mouth. The tall one left and I thought for a second I was in such an awful shape that he was going to abandon me. For a moment I thought maybe Taylor had returned. Then the tall one came back. I heard water sloshing in a canteen. He poured a small trickle of water onto my lips. I eagerly gaped my mouth. My lips were so parched they bled. I didn't care. I was thirsty like I'd never been in my entire life. I was so dry I tried to speak but my mouth didn't work. I still remember how frustrated I was that I couldn't totally communicate with my rescuer. I got my right arm and hand to work enough that I seized the canteen and tried to take it away. My tall rescuer was speaking to me but I couldn't understand him. I heard the words but didn't comprehend their meaning. My ears were ringing so loudly I could make nothing out. Finally with a rush of air I made out his words. He asked me what happened, what was I doing out there? I was frustrated because he like made it sound like I was there because I wanted to be. I finally got my lips to work. My voice was dry, shallow and hoarse. I told him I'd been raped. I asked him if there was anyone else around. I was instantly afraid Taylor was hanging around and would reappear. Tall rescuer looked around and said there was no one else around.
I heard short rescuer return on the back of his dirt bike. He said the police and an ambulance were on the way. Short rescuer took off his helmet. He probably was no older than 14. I suddenly remembered I was naked and was ashamed. I tried to cover myself. Tall rescuer yelled at his 13 yr old son and told him to wait down by the road and direct the cops and the ambulance. I looked around and found my shorts and what was left of my t-shirt then tried to cover myself. Tall rescuer told me I shouldn't then he told me he was a deputy with the sheriff's department. He said I was in shock and needed to focus so I didn't pass out again. I was told later that I'd passed out twice after I'd been found.
The dad kept yelling at me, telling me to stay awake. All I wanted to do was go to sleep. I hurt so bad. I was so tired. Finally I heard the sirens. I saw the red lights flashing off the trees in the heavy woods. We were so deep in the trees that the ambulance couldn't get close to me. I heard the clanking of the gurney as the paramedics ran towards me. I heard the police sirens as they arrived with their blue lights flashing.
I felt their hands slide under me as they lifted me onto the gurney then felt the belts as they were fastened over me. I felt a sudden wave of claustrophobia for just a moment then nothing. I passed out again. I woke up in the back of the ambulance. I felt it speed through the back country roads. I heard the siren from the ambulance and the police cars. I passed out enroute to the hospital. I woke up as I was being wheeled down a long white hallway, obviously we'd made it to the hospital. They parked me in the hallway. There was a lot of hustle and bustle. Everyone seemed so concerned about me but no one seemed to be looking at me. I was cold and confused and wanted to know what was going on. I tried to sit up but was held in place by a nurse. She was a big, burley woman with a deep husky voice and a mustache on her upper lip. She told me I was ok but needed to stay were I was. The big burley nurse asked me who they needed to contact. I gave them Tom's name, our home phone number as well as mom's phone number. I clearly remembering I wanted to ask what was going on but the lights were so bright and I had such an intense headache, I closed my eyes for just a moment.
That moment turned into 2 hours. I came to and found the big nurse standing over me. I felt a warm sensation in my right hand. Looking down I found my wrists were bandaged and I had an IV running in the back of my hand. Tom was there. He looked so tired. I remember him talking but I was so high on the drugs they'd given me I couldn't make out what he was saying. I blinked to clear my head. I guess I passed out again.
It was the awful stench that woke me up. My eyes opened, my vision cleared and I saw some guy wearing a suit easily 3 sizes too small with a nasty unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth. He asked me if I knew my name and knew where I was. I had to cough to clear my throat then told him my name. I guess I confused him when I gave him my maiden name instead of my married name. I shook off my own confused state of drug induced fog and corrected my mistake. He said he'd already talked to everyone else but needed my side of the story for his report. I couldn't shake the feeling he came just short of accusing me of something. So I relayed my story as best as I recalled it. He was good enough to not interrupt me with the exception of a confused look or a grunt. I got to the end, Taylor finishing me and abandoning me in the woods then told the cop what little I recalled about my rescue.
Then it was the cop's turn to speak and I didn't care for his tone. He asked me why I went to the fair. I told him I loved going to the fair and besides my mom wanted to go. He asked me why I went off without mom, Rich and Jimmy. I told him that mom was just there for the farm animal exhibits, Rich and Jimmy were after the rides and wanted to meet girls. I had no desire to cramp their style so I went off on my own. The cop didn't seem to approve but kept his opinion to himself. He never once made an overt accusal but I got the distinct impression that I was the one that was on trial.
Then the portion of the story regarding Taylor Vincent came up. The cop wouldn't look at me but his mouth twitched. He asked me how long I'd been married and was I in the normal practice of taking rides at the fair with men I wasn't married to. The brutally obvious inference was I was being unfaithful to Tom. He backed up and asked why I stayed at the fair when Tom was obviously not coming. For the life of me I couldn't understand why this was important but I tried to answer it anyway. When I didn't give an answer good enough quickly enough, he grudgingly moved on. I was asked to explain why the guys running the rides would say it looked like I was riding with Taylor of my own free will and obviously having an awesome time. I was again asked if I, a newlywed, was in the habit of sitting with strange men. The cop asked me at least 8 different times 8 different ways if I knew Taylor previously. Finally the cop just came out and asked me if this was a date and things got too rough out in the woods and that's why I was pressing charges, which I was. My throat ached as I yelled at this fool. Journal, sometimes the stupidity of cops astounds me. I was the victim here and I was being treated like a criminal. He then detailed the testimony given by mom and Tom as well as Taylor's co-workers at the fair. Tom said he knew I was going to the fair but had told me he probably wasn't coming. That piece of information was used to rough me up some. Mom told the cop I acted like I had somewhere better to go, thanks mom.
The detective told me Tom had reported me missing as of 10pm last night. The cops went to the fair and showed my picture. Several of Taylor's co-workers remembered seeing us riding together.
Then the cop told me they'd talked to Taylor to ask him if he knew where I was. Taylor said we went to his trailer on the back lot, made out for a couple of hours then I left him to go back to the fair.
Then they let Taylor go.
They didn't have any reason not to believe him. By the time they found me they put an APB out for Taylor, went back to the fair only to find his trailer gone. He'd left. They had him and they let him go.
The cop didn't seem to care if I were telling the truth or not. He closed his notebook and said someone from the department would be checking in with me. I told him I couldn't wait.
I was sobbing just after he left. I felt so dirty. The burley nurse with the mustache came running in and gave the cop a dirty look as he gawked back through the glass window of my room, then shook his head and left. Aside from the nurse, I felt so totally alone. Finally the nurse had stablized me enough to go get Tom, mom and daddy from the waiting room. My family consoled me.
Everyone was tired so everyone except for Tom left. The doctor, MY doctor I guessed, strolled in. He looked like he was well into his 90's. His glasses rested on his wrinkled bald scalp. Without much bothering to look up at me he read my diagnosis.
The doctor was entirely clinical as he spoke. I'd gotten a case of the crabs, which had now been treated. They didn't have the final results but it also appeared that I had gonorrhea, which they also were treating. They were also waiting on the tests to return regarding me potentially being pregnant.
I could hear my pulse, a loud thud with each heartbeat.
I wanted to just die Journal!
Tom was doing a slow burn. He'd been holding my hand, at least until he heard that not only had some other man deflowered me but I was now contageous. His hand slowly pulled away.
The hospital staff, with the exception of the big nurse, treated me like a leper. The newspaper printed my story with my name omitted (as if that were even necessary anymore). The story was factually accurate but still managed to cast me in a bad light. I was described as a pretty newlywed who went to the fair without my husband. I kept company with the man I who allegedly raped me in the woods. He'd also taken, allegedly, a few personal items. The police said they had his name, Taylor Vincent, gave his description and that he was wanted for questioning. Hey, if my own family blamed me, how could the hospital staff and the crack journalists at the paper do any less?
Tom came by with less freqency and didn't stay as long. Sunday night I told Tom he should go home because he looked tired. I guess he thought he'd done his husbandly duty and agreed. I was supposed to be checked out this morning. He was to come and pick me up. I was awoken by the phone in my room around 7am. It was Tom. He wasn't sure if he could get off work so he had a co-worker follow him and he dropped my car off in the hospital parking lot. I was about to ask him, beg him really, to find someway to pick me up. He had to go. I told him I loved him only to hear the click of the phone as he hung up.
Sure enough, I had to drive myself home this morning. Mom had come by. She'd been coming by all week to make sure Tom got homecooked meals. She left a plate for me with a note telling me to call her when I got home.
Obviously word had gotten around. I can just imagine all the wagging tongues in mom's women's church group. Southern Baptist women aren't happy unless they have someone to cut open and serve for lunch conversation.
I'm all alone here except for you Journal.
Just exactly what I needed.
I got a call from the detective who liked to chew on nasty unlit cigars and blame victims. He'd done some backtracking and found a couple of reports of 2 other women claiming they'd been raped by a carnival worker in towns the carnival had previously been to. So maybe I wasn't lying afterall.
Tom still won't look at me. He was home when I got the call from the hospital yesterday afternoon. I heard him listening on the other extension.
I should be fine regarding the crabs and the gonorrhea. That's good because I'm now pregnant.
I heard Tom hang up the extension and I heard his truck backing out of the driveway.
Tom still won't touch me. I need him so badly Journal. I am so afraid of losing him. When I tried to talk to him about what to do about the baby he just told me to decide on my own and he would abide by my choice.
Detective Cigar Chewer called and said there had been another rape in another city. The alleged criminal was supposedly a carnival worker. They had a line on him and would call me back when they had more info on him or if he was in custody.
Detective Cigar called. Taylor was caught at a pawn shop in the town where the carnival was to set up next. He was trying to pawn a woman's necklace. It turns out it belongs to his last victim. My wedding set along with the other 3 women's were found in his trailer. It sounds like he's going to be charged in all 4 rapes where someone has stepped forward. The newspaper took great delight in congratulating itself for all of its hard work in bringing these cases to the public attention. No one seemed unsually concerned that the paper had in each individual case cast doubt onto the moral character of the alleged victims. It wasn't until the wizards at the paper connected all 4 rapes that they began to suspect something was amiss.
I told Tom to either get over whatever he's going through or to leave. I can't take his shit anymore Journal, I really can't. He's decided he needs some time away so he's going camping with his best friend/owner of his favorite bar.
Tom and I are still together.
Last friday night he went out, got drunk, came home, slapped me around, called me a slut then fumbled around until he could actually say he'd had his own wife in a biblical way.
I hate him.
Tom makes my skin crawl. I can't believe he thinks what he's doing to me is making love. There's a lot of groping, a couple of dirty words, we sweat a lot and he finally gets his thing in me. He's always done and asleep before I feel much of anything except dirty. He looks so smug about it.
Thanksgiving was a total disaster. Tom got drunk and started in on me. I can't cook. I don't keep a good enough house. Daddy had enough and said something to him about the time he said I just laid there in bed. Daddy hit Tom when Tom asked if that's how I was for Taylor.
I moved in with mom and dad for a couple of days. Mom saw the bruises on my arms, legs and back and told Daddy. I had to beg daddy not to go after Tom.
Mom of course sat on the porch as the 2 of us each had a bottle of beer. She asked me what I thought my chances were of finding a man. I would be an unwed mother who had a past history of venereal disease who cried rape. My doctor says I'm not supposed to be drinking but I'm not sure I care anymore.
Tom's feeling nostalgic. He asked if I would move back in with him. I went by the house for a few things I'd left and saw what a mess it's become. With mom's cautionary warning still on my mind I agreed. I guess if I can't be his wife in good standing I can be his underpaid maid.
Daddy's furious and now he's even mad at me.
Journal, what did I do so wrong?
Christmas went ok. Daddy wouldn't come to the house so I had to take his present out to him. He asked me if I was happy. I didn't like lying to him and I hope he bought it.
Journal, you're the only one I can be honest with.
I'm even lying to myself.
Taylor's trial starts today. The DA has told me and the other 3 victims, I won't use the insulting word 'alleged' the way he does, that the defense attorney is going to be rough on all 4 of us. All of us are married so we're going to be asked how our marriages are doing now and how were they when the incidents happened. Thankfully Journal I've become a good liar when it comes to justifying my marriage and what I'm putting up with. The DA wants to put our husbands on the stand to testify. I'm the only one that doesn't want her husband even in the courtroom, let alone to speak in open court.
Journal the jury's back. Taylor got 25 to life for 4 counts of rape, aggrivated assault and robbery. I'm supposed to get my wedding set back next week sometime. It's been held as evidence all this time.
Tom forced himself on me after getting drunk. Tom was done with me. He'd used me and punished me again. He was passed out from alcohol and physical exertion. I did the same thing then that I've been doing too much Journal. I touched myself down there. I let my mind wander. I was back in the woods. A handsome, scruffy young stud was doing something to me my own husband couldn't or wouldn't do.Like it always happened when I did this, I came.
I suddenly couldn't feel my face. My breathing became shallow as my heart rate raced. I had to get away. I don't know where, but I had to run. I found myself on the hill in the woods behind the house. I knelt on the cool ground, covered in sweat and in a near panic.
Suddenly everything made sense. My life had been a puzzle with no picture to use to put the puzzle together. Now I had all the pieces. Now I had the picture. The picture was suddenly cold and ugly. My dad, or at least the asshole I called my dad, had hated me all my life. Nothing was ever good enough. No accomplishment was sufficient to please that fucking jerk. When he felt the need to punish me, he always seemed to take special delight in giving me just one extra lick as he whipped me with his belt. I was never grateful enough for all he'd given me and done for me.
Well why would he?
I was the offspring of the first man to fuck his wife. Now I understood.
He hated me because he saw Taylor Vincent, the man who raped his wife and knocked her up because he never could. I was the living embodiment of his total failure as a husband.
Now I wanted to go back to the house. I wanted to sit and wait on him. I wanted to tell him off. "You sick, hateful FUCK! You fucking LOSER! You STILL haven't gotten the job done. That fucking kid isn't yours, it's MINE! You've been fucking that bitch for SEVENTEEN FUCKING YEARS AND STILL you can't get it done! I fucked her ONCE and BOOM, BUN IN THE OVEN"! I wanted to crush him. I wanted him to experience the shame of every beating he'd given me. I wanted him to know how it felt to be told his entire life was an exercise in total, abject failure.
My nostrils flared, I inhaled deeply and exhaled through my aching throat.
Then I saw it. My truck, my bright new shining toy. It was sitting in the driveway. My eyes narrowed. I realized I had the opportunity to make something happen here. I walked back into the house with a total sense of calm and serenity. I went upstairs. I pulled my box out of my secret hiding place. I took out all 3 wedding sets I'd accumulated. I had Mrs. Wallace's wedding set. I had Aunt Barbara's wedding set. I had my mom's wedding set. I had an instant hard on.
In exchange for him giving me a truck, that my mom purchased with HER money without ANY help from him of course, 'dad' insisted that I occasionally make deliveries to his bar. The next day was one of those days. I picked up 50 boxes of new beer glasses for him and delivered them to the bar. It was a friday afternoon. The bar was filled with cops. I always got along with the cops, for damned sure better than I got along with my 'dad'. A couple of the cops called to me as I was unloading the last of the boxes, by myself of course. Aside from all the horsing around they insisted I have a beer with them. I resisted at first. I wasn't of age and all that. But hell they were cops, who was going to complain? So I had my 'first official' beer. I was asked to give a toast. Mom was in the bar. I saw the way 'dad' looked at her. It pissed me off.
"First, let me say that I am TRULY, COMPLETELY, my father's son. I find each and everyday that I seem to be following in his footsteps. It seems that for all my life I've never known my father. Here's to me reaching out to him and building a better relationship with him". Mom was too busy gossiping with one of the patrons to listen or care. 'Dad' was hurling daggers at me with his look. I could see the hatred in his eyes. I was sure he could see the same look in my eyes because he was suddenly confused. Why would I be looking at him like that? The entire bar drank to my toast. Then I insisted on 1 more toast before I left. "To my mom whom I love so very, very much. She's carrying a new addition to our family. I guess someone got the job done and I look forward to his or her arrival"! Again the entire bar drank. Then everyone got too distracted to notice I'd left. I took the rest of the day driving my new truck and showing it off.
I had just enough time left in the summer for a project. I went back through mom's journal and found several newspaper articles that had been cut out. The ink was now faded and the paper browned with age. Taylor Vincent was going to spend his 25 to life sentance in the state pen. It was a medium security facility and was about an hour away. I made some phone calls. Finally I spoke to enough people who pointed me in the right direction.
Her name was Mrs. Cole. She was the admininstrative assistant for the warden. She sounded a every bit the snotty professional on the phone. I hated her immediately. Mrs. Cole obviously had better things to do than deal with me. I told her I'd found out Taylor Vincent was my father and wanted to come to the prison to visit him. She asked my age. I lied and told her I was 18. Finally she said all I really had to do was just show up with my ID and they'd page Mr. Vincent.
Benjie, as ever, was my contact for illicit goodies. He gave me a new name, Barry Freeman, and aged me to 18 yrs old. Weekends were best for visiting prisoners, per Mrs. Cole. I showed up, offered my ID and asked to see Taylor Vincent. A medium security prison offeres various formats for visitation. Based on what I learned from TV shows, I expected us to be seperated by a glass screen and have to talk by phone. I wasn't sure how I was going to do this because, per every TV show I ever watched the guards would be listening and if they happened to pick up on the truth, I'd be busted. Instead I was lead to a room that to all appearances like a high school cafeteria, complete with the attached bench seats. I picked an empty table. The other tables had women, children, the odd moms and dads coming to visit their inprisoned loved ones. Again I couldn't shake the feeling that all the guards could look right through me and know who I was and that my ID was a fake.
He was about my height. He had a thicker build obviously from working out with weights. His hair was thinner than it was when the newspaper took his picture while he was on his perp walk. One thing that struck me was how unafraid he seemed to be. He'd told the cops that the sex he had with the 4 women he was accused of raping had been consentual. His pit bull lawyer attacked all 4, including my mom. Afterall, wasn't she catting around the fairgrounds with a total stranger? Who could blame him for getting the wrong idea. And now all 4 of these loose women were screaming rape to try and protected their soiled virtue. The jury didn't buy it and from what I read even the attempt pissed the judge off because Taylor got the maximum sentance. Even though all I had to go by was a faded black and white photo from nearly 18 yrs ago, I knew him.
A son always knows his father.
I waved for him. His brow furrowed with a confused look. He walked toward me and sat. His eyes scanned me up and down.
"Um, you don't know me", I suddenly didn't know what else to say.
"Yeah, I don't think I know anyone named Barry Freeman", he said in a hushed tone. He kept eyeing me up and down and it was starting to make me feel uncomfortable. He sucked on the toothpick stuck tightly in the corner of his mouth. "Hummmm, you do look familiar though. You any relation to Dot McCallister"?
"Uh, yeah. She's my mom".
"Guess that'd make you Stan then"?
I sat there stunned. How the hell...?
"Guess that'd make me your daddy then".
I honestly could have fainted. "H-how..."?
"Well it's easy actually. I knew I'd popped her cherry, even though she was married. That was pretty fucked up by the way. No fucking way I was expecting that. Anyway by the time they caught me and my trial started, I could see she was knocked up. Wasn't that hard to figure out who the daddy was".
"B-but, how did you know my name"?
"That's the thing about being inside Stan. You either keep your mind working or you go fucking bananas. I chose to keep my mind working. We get newspapers here. That's how I was able to keep tabs on your mom then on you".
"Did you keep tabs on the other 3 women you raped"? My tone was harsher than I'd meant it to be.
Taylor's head tilted slightly, acknowledging the touche`. "Actually I did".
"So? Do I have any brothers or sisters"?
"You have 3 half sisters".
"From the other 3 cunts I kept time with. Yes Stan, I fucked your mother and 3 other women. All 4 got pregnant. You were the only boy. Maybe it was because I fucked your mother on the ground or something. I understand the position can..."
"Why did you do it"?
"Why did you rape my mom and those other women"?
"Why do YOU think I did it", he replied?
"I dunno. Maybe you just thought they were pretty and wanted them or something".
Taylor sat back. His eyes scanned me up and down again. He chewed on his toothpick and thought for a moment. "Is that what you think"?
"I don't know. I'm asking YOU"! My frustration level was growing. Why was he looking at me like that?
"M'kay. So tell me, why did YOU do it"? I sat there stunned. How the HELL did he KNOW? I hadn't said ANYTHING like that to him. I hadn't given him ANY indication that I'd done anything like it. "You know you did it. Tell me, about it. Was she some sweet piece of tail from school"? I sat there, my mouth agape in stunned silence. "Or was she something else? Hmmmmmmm, a teacher maybe"?
I didn't like where this was going. "Who said I did anything at all"?
"I DO"! His tone was harsh. "You know DAMNED WELL you did it"! The rebuke stung me. This man had known me all of 10 minutes and he'd read me like a book. I suddenly wanted to be somewhere else. "Did she fight you? How did you feel when you slammed your meatpole down that oh-so sweet married pussy"?
"I, uh, I think maybe I should just leave".
"Why"? He obviously didn't want me to leave.
"Because, well, this isn't what I thought it was going to be". I couldn't look him in the eye. I was afraid to. What else would he see there?
"Were you expecting a big hug and a big, sloppy wet kiss? Is that REALLY why you came here today? Is that really why you lied your way into prison just to see your convict daddy"?
"I, uh, I-I just wanted to know why..."
"Why I fucked your mom and those other 3 sluts"?
"For starters, yeah".
"Because they needed it. They just didn't KNOW they needed it".
"You're saying my mom WANTED you to do that to her"?
"Naaaaaaaahhhh. None of them WANTED it, especially like that. But each one of them NEEDED it. 2 different things".
"I don't understand. How did you know they needed it? I mean did they say something or something"?
Taylor smiled at me. "You knew it, didn't you".
"I never said..."
"You never HAD to say it Stan", Taylor said as he interrupted me. "You just sensed it, didn't you? You were standing there and somewhere down deep, you just knew that bitch needed a good grudge fucking".
"How does a pack of wolves know which bison to cut from the herd? How does a pride of lions know which antelope to zero in on"? Taylor paused to let me catch up to him.
"Yeah. That bison gives off a vibe, so does the antelope. Something about the way they stand, walk, run, their scent, SOMETHING tells the predator 'I'm weak, I don't deserve to live, eat me'. It's all instinct Stan". Taylor flicked his chewed up toothpick away and pulled a fresh one out. "I have it, my daddy had it, YOU have it, ALL the men in our family have it".
Now it was my turn to scan Taylor up and down. Everything in me wanted to deny what he was saying. I wanted to call him a liar. The problem was, my mom and my aunt were WAY pregnant now and I was the baby daddy. I'd brutally fucked 2 women, the 2 women closest to me, who I loved most and who loved me most. They hadn't done me any wrong and didn't deserve what had been done to them. Then I had a sudden thought that I never asked for.
Or DID they deserve it?
"It was sweet, wasn't it Stan? Sliding your shaft into her pussy, it felt like you were fulfilling your purpose in life, didn't you? You felt like you were the alpha predator".
My jaw clenched. I should be ashamed of myself, shouldn't I? I should tell this fucking rapist to go to hell, leave and never do anything like this again. Instead my eyes met his again. He wore a big toothy grin. I didn't say 'yes' because I didn't have to. He already knew. Taylor leaned toward me.
"You make the bitch cum boy", he asked in a whisper?
My eyes shifted to the floor for a split second then back up to his.
"You did. I knew it. Did you break her"?
I'd never thought of it like that, but I had, hadn't I?
"You knock her up"?
I knew this question was coming and this time I didn't even pretend to break eye contact.
Taylor smiled, patted me on my shoulder and leaned back. I'd lived 17 years now and suddenly couldn't remember my 'dad' patting me on the back and damned sure never made me feel the way this guy had in a matter of minutes.
"Well, visiting hour is about up. Next time come a little earlier. Oh and bring me some money".
"K. Can you have money", I asked?
"Yeah. They put it in an account that I can bill it back to. Make it about $100 bucks".
I turned and headed for one door when I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I wasn't expecting the hug from Taylor I got. I felt him turn to whisper in my ear the words that would stick with me the rest of my life. "Guilt is for suckers Stan. Just remember, the wolf doesn't feel guilty, neither do the lions. They're doing what they're built to do. Nothing else will ever make you happy". Taylor broke the hug, turned and walked off.
Using my fake ID I bought a couple of 6 packs of beer. I needed to think. I parked on the bluffs below the high school and downed each beer. I was still so unsure of what to do, let alone who I was. I hadn't found any answers yet.
Then I heard a female voice clearing her throat to get by attention.
It was Mrs. Wallace. She was wearing denim shorts and a t-shirt.
"Beer at your age Stan. Really"?
"Technically speaking I'm off the school grounds Mrs. Wallace". I didn't even bother to try to hide or deny it.
"Still doesn't make it legal".
I pulled a bottle out of the cooler I'd filled with ice and offered her one.
"I really shouldn't", Mrs. Wallace said as she reached for it.
"What we should and shouldn't do are all about instinct, aren't they"?
Mrs. Wallace cut me an odd look. "Where did THAT come from"?
"Oh, just talking to someone about predators and prey".
"Oh, I see. Anyway move over", she said as she leaned on my tailgate next to me. She was just about my height. I'd had quite the growth spurt over the last year. Her hair was in a tight ponytail. She wore a hot pink t-shirt with a big air-brushed heart painted on it. Her denim shorts had a perfectly sewn cuff that fell about halfway between her knees and her crotch. I took silent note that she'd replaced her wedding set.
I was subtle as I looked her up and down. Our school was lucky that it was still fairly new and staffed with more than it's share of MILFs. Mrs. Wallace was the Queen of them. She was the teacher every guy wanted to fuck in the worst way. Many a high school keg party bore witness to the fact that without a doubt, she was the teacher every guy pictured as he jerked off. She had pale brown hair tied tightly in a ponytail. She had a pretty narrow face that capped off a long, willowy neck. Her titts weren't all that large but certainly big enough. She had long, tan legs. She worked out like a demon to keep her athletic frame.
Everything about her screamed she needed to be fucked. Not to be made love to. Not to have soft, loving sex. Not just a romp in the hay. Not just a quickie. Everything that I picked up on said she needed to be fucked hard, deep and angry. She turned and saw me looking at her. Rather than deny it I decided to see what would happen if I was cool.
"I'm digging the new dress code".
"Huh"? She was confused.
My head tilted toward her prompting her to look at what she was wearing. "Oh THIS? I WISH", she chuckled! "I was just getting my classroom ready for the school year".
"Well you've got my vote", I said with a smile that was less friendly than an obvious come on.
"Well, thank you kind sir", she said as she patted me on the back. "At least someone paid attention".
I heard what she was saying. I'd known the intent behind her words before she even spoke.
"Ahem, well", she said obviously wanted to move on from the awkward moment. "Nice truck"!
"Uhhhhhhhh, NO! He had nothing to do with it".
"Um, Stan. I'm sorry if I'm butting into something that's none of my business and you can feel free to tell me to butt out, ok"?
"Uh, sure. What is it"?
"I've only known you and your family a couple of years so if I'm wrong I'm so sorry, but is there something going on between you and your dad"?
"He's not my real dad".
There it was.
I don't know why I said it, it just came out.
"OH, um, I'm sorry Stan. I didn't know. I didn't mean to pry".
"Eh, s'ok. No one knows outside the family".
"Is it something you'd like to talk about"? The concern in Mrs. Wallace's voice was as obvious as the lack of giving a damn was in mine.
"Nah it's not a big deal. I mean, I only just found out myself".
"Seriously? How did you find out, if I can ask"?
She took my silence as a sign she'd just crossed a line.
"So, um, is your real dad still around"?
"Sort of. He's in prison".
The look on her face told me she'd just become embarrassed and probably didn't want to know more.
I sniffed, faking being upset, turned and pulled out 2 fresh cold bottles.
"No Stan, I really shouldn't..."
"Oh ok. Look, can I just hang out here for a little while? I really don't wanna go back to the house right now".
"SURE you can. Look Stan, I'm not sure at your age if beer's the answer you're looking for". The concerned look on her face was fucking priceless.
"I know. I'm not really looking for answers right now. I've got all of those. I'm just trying to understand them I guess".
"Ohhhhh, you poor kid", she said as her hand softly touched my shoulder. The oval diamond in her engagement ring reflected the light from the setting sun. If I hadn't been sitting slightly hunched forward my hard on would have stood straight up. "Look, how about we do 1 more beer and let that be that, ok"?
I paused for a moment as I drank in her sympathy. "Sure", I said.
What a fucking idiot.
Yeah Taylor, I get it now.
I handed her the fresh bottle which she down quickly. She never noticed the 3 pills on the bottom fizzing...
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