Rape and Bug Chasing - A Special Connection

[Hotload84]

It happened in ‘93, when I was still living in Jacksonville. I’d just started to move beyond vanilla. At the March on Washington in April, I made my first foray into kink. I had always been interested in leather, but after reading the stories in Drummer and from the few leathermen I knew, I didn't dare try it. I thought every leatherman was only into S&M, which didn’t appeal to me. It was in Washington that I decided to bite the bullet. I found a guy willing to give me my first taste of leather, and it was wonderful. He also introduced me to piss: I was instantly hooked. Back in Jacksonville, I wanted more. The only place yellow was even remotely acceptable was at The Boot Rack, where a small leather crowd gathered, alongside the cowboy/country/redneck types. I'd sit at the bar, flying yellow in my pocket, and was usually successful in garnering a few drinks. Because, however, yellow was cutting edge even there, and not universally accepted, I took to the urinals.

One night, I was at the urinal, waiting for someone to come in. Finally, he did. He was not much to look at, but saw my yellow and aimed his cock in my direction. That was all it took; and I was down on my knees, his knob in my mouth, awaiting his stream. I drank a couple of recycled beers. When he was done, I got up, and he started feeling my butt, telling me how firm it felt. My pants were already down around my ankles, and he fingered my crack. Now, I enjoy like getting fucked as much as the next guy, but I was looking for piss. Besides, the Jax cops were notorious for illegal entrapment, so I wasn't too keen on bending over there. The guy said flat out "I wanna fuck you." I told him "Sorry, not interested" but he wouldn’t take 'No' for an answer. I was getting annoyed, and wasn't too pleased with his finger up my cunt as, without any lube, it didn't feel very good being prodded and poked.

I was about to leave when suddenly he pushed me against the wall, pinned me with his body, and started thrusting his cock into my crack. I was about to tell him to butt out (no pun intended) when his helmet hit my rosebud, and he plowed all the way in. Man, did that hurt! The only lube was leftover spit from when I’d sucked him. I thought that he was busting me open. I was being violated against my will. I wasn't against getting fucked—far from it, but not like that—in public, no lube, no rubber, and by a top who was totally dismissive of my wants and emotions. I was in pain, and he didn’t give a rat’s ass. I just let him have his way with me as there wasn't much else I could do. Every time he plowed in and out, my man cunt ached. I wished it was over and done with. He started to gasp, and his Shaft swelled within me. With a low moan, and one final assault, he shot his load. For the first time in my life I’d been barebacked. He pulled-out With a wet plop. Breathing heavily in my ear, he thanked me, pulled up his pants, and left.

I remained in the bathroom to regain my composure and sat down in a stall. I reached between my legs and gently caressed my sore anus with my index finger. I carried away with a bloody mixture of shit and spooge. After doctoring myself and cleaning up as best I could, I returned to the bar for a drink. He was sitting just a couple of stools down, conversing with some buds. When I got my beer, he raised his glass as if in a toast, and smiled amicably, like nothing happened. I could feel his spunk dripping out of my ravaged pussy, soiling my briefs. When he got up to leave, he stopped by to tell me how much he’d enjoyed it, and hoped we could do it again. He gave me a kiss—like rape was the natural precursor to love and romance. What was really strange was that I did hope it would happen again. I certainly didn't enjoy being violated; but I liked being used to please another in an environment where “I” didn’t matter. To him I was just another fuck hole to use and abuse and not give a shit about. And I preferred it that way!

To date, I haven't been raped again. Gang-banged, yes—but not with the gusto that guy exuded. I’ve been a dedicated barebacker ever since, and have had a number of guys pump in my ass, only to tell me afterwards they were POZ. I’ve been fucked with rubbers only to learn that the tops had pricked holes in them to infect bottoms who thought they were playing safe. But I've not again experienced that special sensation of helplessness and subservience concomitant to rape. Some of you may think I made this up, but it all happened just as I said. I'd love to hear from you rapists about your experiences. What it is about rape turns you on? And from you victims, what was it like? It can be fun. I know.

Edited February 25, 2013 by Hotload84

[ronetbus]

I met this guy to hook up after we had been chatting online and on the phone for a short while. He forcefully fucked me bare well before I was ready. There was too much premeditation over the phone about fucking bare and far too little real resistance at the time for it to count as rape. The pain of the mostly dry penetration went away after a while and I became an active participant.

[negPOZlover]

I have been raped more times than i can count! my father started raping me at age 5... and i loved it!!

[cumaddict71]

you loved it at the age of 5? :-/

[negPOZlover]

you loved it at the age of 5? :-/

I knew that playing with my daddys cock made him happy. plus my father always told me he fucked me because he loved me more than most father love their sons. I didnt see it as rape

[cumaddict71]

But.... at 5???

[MexPigMaster]

I'll RAPE you!

[cumaddict71]

who, me, Sir?

[MexPigMaster]

Yes you!!!

[cumaddict71]

anytime, Sir!!!!

[Weak4It]

I'll RAPE you!

Sir, Is there any club in Brooklyn where this could become reality?

[MexPigMaster]

I don't know of any club in Brooklyn. Maybe someone here knows. MASTER