Anonymous - The Romances Of Blanche La Mare

“The harm was in your being a virgin for damned near a whole volume of this immortal work,” breaks in the irrepressible Gladys, “and I'd have let the old swine fuck me if he was going to give me an engagement.”

“I would have, perhaps, if he hadn't tried to force me,” I answered.

“Force you!” says Gladys, with a tinge of scorn in her voice, “why I'm damned if I don't think its half the pleasure. Listen- would you like to hear how I was raped?”

“But, you've told me-your uncle in Birmingham.”

“Oh, he seduced me: that wasn't rape exactly, because I let him.”

This is her story:-“It was during my first typewriter's job in London,” she begins.” I was not a virgin, but I was at that time what I should call quite a moral girl, that is to say I stuck to one man. I resisted the daily efforts of my business employer, and used to hurry home in the evenings to my Bloom-bury lodging. Twice a week I met my lover who took me to dinner, and subsequently to a furnished room in one of the good old flea ravaged hotels in the Euston Road. It was there, after my young man, who knew a bit, had plentifully peppered the bed with good old Keating, we enjoyed ourselves to the top of love's young delight. We could not afford a more frequent connection, for Albert lived with his family and drew but three pounds a week for his lusts and living, while the boarding house inhabited by myself drew a strict line at young men visitors.

Well, on one occasion, a dark and dreary winter's evening, just after a happy time with my young man, who at the time I sincerely loved, I was making my way home through foggy bleared streets, when my way was blocked by a tall figure that loomed up through the darkness and grasped me by the arm. “Forgive me for stopping you,” he said, “but there is a woman hard by in sore distress, and we cannot find another of her sex to be with her. Will you come?” His voice seemed so naturally affected that I could not find it in my heart to say nay, and I went.

The man treated me with the greatest consideration and deference, apologizing for the queer route our journey took us. At last we came to a tall, ugly house. After two flights of creaking stairs, a door opened to admit us into a seemingly very comfortable flat. Another man had opened the door, but he was silent as I and my companion passed him. I began to feel a little nervous, but the sound of a woman's voice calling in tones which seemed shaking with pain, “Have you got her, John?”-reassured me.

I followed my guide, whom I now say, in the full light of the flat, to be a powerfully built, strong faced, ugly man with penetrating eyes, into a bed room- Between the sheets lay a woman, whom at first glance I recognized as a singularly beautiful creature. She was quite small and slight, a little thin in the neck perhaps, and pinched great eyes. In those great eyes which seemed to dominate the room, lay her chief cute charm. She did not look particularly ill, and I was surprised to note that she appeared to be quite naked, for the arm which lay on the coverlet was bare, and there was no sign of a garment about her neck and shoulders. Her lingers were covered with rings; it was obviously no poor woman who needed my assistance. In fact I summed her up at once as a well to do prostitute.

I was advancing towards the beu about to speak to her, when I felt my waist surrounded by the man's arms. At the same moment, I noticed a smile on the face on the woman. As I tried to struggle from his embrace it struck me that I was trapped, and the woman's words which immediately followed only too well confirmed my suspicion. “You've collared a pretty one, John she purred,” in a mocking tone. As my glance ran round the room, I saw that now the third man was present, sitting in a chair by the door, smoking a cigar.

“What does this mean?” I cried, in a choking voice.

For answer the big man gripped me again and kissed me violently.

“I implore you, what does it mean?” I said to the woman.

“Only that you must be a good girl and do what you're asked,” she responded with an irritating smile, and the same time the big man forced me back against the bed.

“Oh, tell me what you do want; is it money?” I begged, the tears welling into my eyes.

“No, you little fool,” the man answered savagely,” we want to fuck you!” and he let me go, then continued, “undress yourself quickly-or else we'll make you.”

I screamed at the top of my voice, but was answered by a general laugh. Then I swung round towards the woman and raised my hand, threatening her. In a second I found my legs twitched from under me and I was sprawled upon the floor. One man held my knees down and the other my elbows.

As I lay there quite helpless, the woman slipped from her bed, a beautiful little devil she was too, in her nakedness, superbly well formed, though on the small scale, with a perfect skin. She pressed my waist down with her two hands and looked into my eyes. “Will you be undressed quietly, and let these men do what they like?” she cooed.

I made no answer.

Then they lashed me down, by my ankles and wrists, to the legs of the bed on one side, and to a couple of rings which were also used for some soft of gymnastic appliance, on the other. My legs were stretched wide apart.

“Rather exciting, eh, Gladys?” I interrupt.

“Now perhaps,” she answers, “but at that time, you must remember, I was only eighteen, deeply in love, and had been wrong with two men only. I was mad with rage. They made no further attempts to cajole me, in fact, had I known as much as I do now, I should have seen that the very fact of forcing me was three parts of the pleasure to these sinister people.

The woman took a razor from the toilet table. I shut my eyes, fearing some horrible outrage, but she only used it to rip my dress and petticoats to my waist. The halves of my costume she turned over, laying bare my drawers and a good deal of the naked lower part of my stomach, for I wore no corsets.

She laid her hand on my little mount of Venus, and fingered it affectionately, though she did not succeed in producing the last of a dry feel in me. I was far too angry. But the sight seemed to please the men, for, with a simultaneous action they produced a large and erect prick and balls from their trousers and stood over me.

The woman completed my undressing, ripping off everything completely and destroying my clothes. When I was left naked on the damned floor, there was some affair of tossing up between the men as to which one should get a nice hot fuck out of me. The big one won, and promptly disembarrassed himself of his clothes. I was perfectly helpless, and compelled to lie there awaiting the ravishing of this brute, but he hesitated.

“I don't think I want the girl tied down like a log,” he said, “Let her go and I will try to manage it.”

Well, they did let me go, the woman had no hand in this. I fancy she was rather nervous. She perched herself crosswise on the bed, lit a cigarette and waited. I still lay there when I was freed, but found myself jerked up to my feet, and then the big man grappled with me. I just managed to get my teeth well into his shoulder, and with a right hand to grip him savagely by the balls, and I felt a heavy blow behind the ear and remembered no more.

I came to my senses to find a man on the top of me, his prick deep into me, and the girl bathing my temples with brandy. I felt far too ill then to struggle more the man finished his rape, without extracting the tiniest drop of reciprocal juice from me.

My ravisher lay heavily upon me, seemingly disinclined to remove himself from so pleasant a position, and the thing within me stayed stiff and unyielding in its maimed and bleeding home, but the other man jerked my ravisher's shoulder up.