Rape after a car accident

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

A large wool coat concealed my thin frame as I walked, the clatter of my high heels echoing on the ground.

It was nearing dusk, and a light snow was falling; the tiny snowflakes melted as soon as they landed on my coat.
I lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and continued walking. Tall buildings lined both sides of me, now a dark mass, like gigantic figures looking down upon us tiny creatures.
Today I lost my job. While not to the point of needing welfare, it was still quite disheartening. This was my third year in this unfamiliar city.

Another parking ticket—

utterly unlucky.

I tore off the ticket, opened the car door, and threw my weary body onto the seat.

The heater was on, and I used a towel from the car to dry the snow from my hair.

"Small towns have many stories, full of…" My phone rang. I picked it up and answered.
The moment the call connected, my former landlord's lewd voice came through: "Little Su, want to come over for dinner tonight?"

I hung up.

That old scoundrel, he's older than my father and still so shameless.

Hanging up the phone didn't make me feel any better; in fact, it made me feel worse. I swallowed a tranquilizer, and as it gradually dissolved in my mouth, the knot in my stomach seemed to loosen a little.
The car slowly picked up speed, and my car and my tired body gradually joined the vast traffic.

I watched the lights of the shops along the street come on, my Audi's sleek blue paint reflecting the shimmering lights of various colors.

A restaurant with a Chinese sign caught my eye: "Ju Ya Ju," a Chinese-owned restaurant with a huge Chinese dragon logo.

I stopped the car and went inside.

To be honest, the moment I opened the door and saw the wisps of white steam rising from the steamer baskets of xiaolongbao (soup dumplings), I felt a strange sense of familiarity. Not to mention the Chinese waiters coming and going, and the elderly Chinese men around me picking up xiaolongbao with chopsticks while drinking millet porridge.

This long-lost sense of familiarity brought tears to my eyes.

"Madam, would you like to dine? Do you have a reservation?" a waitress asked from behind me.
I shook my head and walked out again.

I couldn't miss home; if I did, I might not be able to stay here any longer.

I started to regret going into this restaurant.

I shouldn't do this again.

The car continued driving, but just after turning a corner, a black car suddenly appeared with its headlights on. The car was going extremely fast, and I was so frightened that I quickly dialed the turn signal. A

dull thud!

Oops, I hit something!

I slammed on the brakes and quickly got out to check the situation. The moment I got out of the car, I

was stunned. I had hit someone! I had knocked down an elderly person! The bright xenon headlights illuminated the ground in front of me clearly. An elderly person was lying in front of me, bleeding from their head. I quickly turned off the headlights and switched to the low beams before checking on the elderly person's injuries. The old man exclaimed, "Oh dear, are you blind? Young lady, you wear glasses and drive in the middle of the night! You've almost hit me!" I quickly took out a handkerchief and handed it to the old man, clasping my hands together and apologizing repeatedly, "Sir, I'm so sorry. A car suddenly darted out and almost hit me." The old man asked, "So you were going to hit me?" I replied, "No, you've misunderstood. You've misunderstood. I..." The old man interrupted, "What 'this' and 'that'? Call an ambulance!" Hearing this, I suddenly realized what was going on and said, "Oh, oh, please wait a moment..." " Hello, I've been in a traffic accident and need an ambulance. Um... okay, yes, that's right. We're at xx street, xx, um..." The call ended quickly, and I said to the old man, "Grandma, the ambulance will be here soon. Please wait a moment while I help you up." The old man said, "Oh, don't touch me. I want to wait for the police." I asked, "Why?" The old man replied, "What if you deny everything when we get to the hospital?" Damn it... damn it... if this gets out of hand, I'm still on bail. Who knows what other trouble I might cause? It's just a traffic accident, and I didn't do it on purpose. But I was charged with dangerous driving after overdosing on tranquilizers. I didn't take any extra medication. I should be fine, right? I quickly bowed to the old man and said, "Grandpa, do you think I'm that kind of person?" The old man rolled his eyes and said, "That's hard to say. My son is a university professor, and he teaches better than any foreigner. Don't think I'm trying to scam you. Just call the police." I said, "Okay. How about we both call our lawyers? With both lawyers present, we can contact the traffic department for an accident assessment. Is that alright?" The old man said, "Call a lawyer? Sorry, I don't have one. I don't trust your lawyer. Why don't you want to call the police? You're not a fugitive, are you?" I said, "I'll call my lawyer and the police right now." The old man said, "Oh dear, I told you I wouldn't go abroad, I told you I wouldn't go abroad. At least in China, if someone hits me, I know to run. But abroad, if someone hits me, they have to use a lawyer to scare me. My old bones can't live like this." The old man's voice was so loud that I was too agitated to concentrate on dialing. Me: "Don't worry. I'll call the police right away." The old man: "Oh my God! Oh my, my deceased wife! Listen to this, listen to this, she's directly calling the police to arrest me!" Hearing this, I could no longer contain my anger and finally exploded: "What do you want?!" The old man: "I need to go to the hospital. I need you to treat me." Hearing that there was still room for negotiation, I patiently said again: "I'm sorry, I was in a bit of a hurry just now. I'm really sorry." Upon hearing this, the old man suddenly stood up, put his hands on his hips, pointed at my nose, and said: "Young lady, don't think you can bully me just because I'm an old man. When I was a Red Guard, I beat up everyone from the municipal party secretary to the prefectural commissioner until they cried for their parents. Tell me, how much money are you going to give me?" I looked at this lively old man and didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Me: "You... oh... how much do you want?" Old man: "Just give me what you think is fair. If you give enough, whether the ambulance comes or not doesn't really matter." Me: "Five hundred." Old man: "Eight hundred." Me: "Sir, I'm talking about US dollars." Old man: "I'm talking about Euros." Me: "Five hundred US dollars, or I'll call the police." Old man: "Five hundred?"

I nodded, took five hundred from my handbag, and handed it to the old man. Then I canceled the ambulance service and turned to leave.

The old man called out, "Stop!"

I was getting impatient with this pushover. But I'm not exactly a low-class person, so I suppressed my annoyance and asked, "Is there anything else?"

The old man said, "You want to take me home?"

I said, "I'm blind, aren't you afraid something might happen?"

The old man said, "Just tell me if you're going to take me or not."

I said, "Okay, you're really something. Get in."

The old man proudly waved the money in his hand, occasionally shaking his head and glancing at me.
As

soon as I got into the ambulance, the old man shamelessly sat in the passenger seat, his hand even stroking my leg.

Bastard…

I really wanted to slap him. But I was on bail, and intentionally hurting someone would definitely get me into trouble.
I glared at him fiercely. However, he seemed to enjoy my gaze and began to stroke my smooth stockings under my short skirt.

A loud "slap" rang out; it wasn't me retaliating, but him slapping me across the face.

I rubbed my face in disbelief.

The old man took out a folding knife and snapped the blade open. The sound startled me.

His gaze instantly turned cold and sharp. He said viciously, "What are you looking at? Touching you is giving you face. Take off your underwear. What are you standing there for? I can tell you have a criminal record. Don't fucking think about calling the police, take it off." With that, he slammed the knife into my seat with a "thud." The sound terrified me.

"Slap, slap!" Two more slaps followed. He grabbed my hair, his strength so great that my scalp felt like it was being torn apart the moment he pulled my head down.

The old man yelled, "Are you fucking deaf? If you keep spacing out, I'll slash your face. Take it off!"

His sudden "take it off" really terrified me. The moment he uttered the word, I shuddered, terrified he'd pull the knife out again. Forgetting to unbuckle my seatbelt, I frantically started taking off my stockings and underwear, my eyes still fixed on the knife.

Seeing my cooperation, the old man gently patted my face with the knife, saying, "That's a good girl. Take off your coat, lift your skirt."

I felt so wronged, so humiliated, but what could I do? He really would use the knife.
Tears welled in my eyes, my lips were pressed tightly together, but my hands dared not stop.

The moment my skirt was lifted, I almost burst into tears.

My body trembled with sobs.

The old man looked at me, weeping, and simply rubbed his chin. He took a piece of rope from his pocket and commanded me, "Hold out your hands."

I shook my head, crying, as I lifted my skirt high. I pleaded, "You can rape me, I won't tell anyone, please don't. I'll serve you well and make you feel good. Please, please stop scaring me." After saying this, I was already sobbing uncontrollably.

However, my crying and pleading only earned him his disdain. He said indifferently, "Hold out your hands, or I'll kill you."

I was afraid and gave in.

I cried and tremblingly stretched out my hands.

He gestured

for me to put my hands behind my back. He skillfully tied my hands behind my back.

The rope was tied so tightly that my hands were painfully bound. The old man took out a razor blade and, with a "rip" sound, tore my skirt open. What

was revealed when the skirt was torn open were my legs, trembling with fear, slightly clenched inwards as I was about to lose control of my bladder out of fear.

The old man hummed the title of a model opera, "My Uncle..."

He hummed along, shaking his head, while rummaging in his pocket. After a while, when my emotions had gradually calmed down, he pulled out something that looked like a tube of toothpaste.

He ignored me and simply reached out to spread my legs. I dared not disobey and obediently spread my legs wide.

He roughly stroked my pubic area, his hands covered in that unknown paste-like substance, like shampoo or bath soap, feeling very cool.

This strange feeling naturally terrified me, and I struggled desperately, but the rope was tied too tightly. Every time I struggled, the thin rope almost dug into the flesh of my wrists.

I wanted to scream and struggle; this was too terrifying. Then, he pressed a sharp knife against my neck. This made my nascent desire to cry for help swallowed up.

I watched, choking back tears, as he spread the substance evenly, my body still trembling from my earlier crying. Then I saw him take out a gleaming razor and press it against my skin. I quickly held my breath, afraid that even the slightest tremor would cause me to cut myself and bleed profusely.

The cold blade of the razor pressed against my warm skin, a strong chill sending tension through my entire body. Even my vagina seemed to contract and expand slightly with the tension, making my labia look like the mouth of a fish struggling to breathe.

The razor easily shaved off a large patch of pubic hair, which he then wiped off with a tissue, enveloped in a clump of soap suds. Only then did I dare to take a few deep breaths.

But before I could catch my breath, his razor was against my skin again. So I could only endure the difficulty breathing and continue to hold on. He seemed to deliberately slow down, scraping little by little, and occasionally pausing the blade to deliberately probe my already somewhat wet vagina with the index finger of his other hand, then scooping out a little of the remaining fluid and licking and sucking it with relish.

I held my breath, barely able to hold on. A surge of blood pressure due to lack of oxygen made my ears ring.

God, please. Let him just rape me and leave. This is unbearable.

But God seemed to ignore me, and this time was no different.

I finally couldn't hold back anymore; the intense feeling of suffocation made me exhale with a "whoosh," accompanied by urine that I could no longer hold back, flowing down between my legs.

So shameful…

I couldn't take it anymore.

Then I screamed hysterically, "You impotent old bastard, you can't play with women, so you scare them like this. Take out your dick and fuck me! If you fuck me well, I'll lick your dick every day. But with your spiky appearance, you've probably already cummed. You old bastard, I'll fuck your grandpa. I'll fuck your ancestors for eighteen generations. I'll fuck your mother, fuck your father, fuck your whole family but I won't fuck you. You old idiot. Fuck me, come on! You're hard except for the knife in your hand. Fuck your old idiot."

I just kept cursing like that. God is my witness, since I left the countryside for high school to study in the big city, until I went abroad to study, and until just now, I've never cursed anyone so freely.

The old man chuckled, then with a precise slash, he severed all the remaining pubic hair from my pubic area. He laughed and said, "You little slut, I knew you were a whore. A wolf in sheep's clothing, too. Alright, I won't kill you today. Not bad, you have potential. I, Old Man Lin, have tormented and killed countless women

in my life. I have my own rules: I only shave ten times, the first nine being the pubic hair. If that woman still doesn't cooperate, I'll slit her throat. You, on the other hand, solved the problem with two cuts, and you even peed a lot." I glared at the man defiantly, but the previous tirade had already drained my energy and anger. So I could only stare wide-eyed to hide my fear.

The old man glanced at me, then nonchalantly unzipped his pants, revealing a massive, erect penis, as long as two men's.

I watched in astonishment as he reclined my chair, my eyes wide as he thrust his enormous, thick member inside.

The moment his thing entered, it stretched my vagina wide open, quickly reaching what I thought was the deepest point, yet his penis was still mostly sticking out.

He continued pushing in, slowly widening what I thought was the end. An unprecedented excitement and an uncontrollable urge to ejaculate grew stronger and stronger.

It kept moving forward, and I was excited and intoxicated by this sudden sensation.

The originally narrow space was gradually stretched open, deeper and deeper, and my efforts to hold back the urge to ejaculate seemed increasingly difficult.

I: "Oh, ah... oh..." I actually let out an intoxicated moan like a woman in a pornographic film.

Suddenly, it plunged in deeply, and I felt as if it had reached the very depths of my lower abdomen.
I: "Motherfuer." The swear word had barely left my lips when the wave of excitement came as his penis touched the deepest point.

My lips trembled, and a breath of intoxication carried the deepest pleasure of my body.

His penis began to move slowly inside my vagina. It was so large that each time it withdrew a little, it felt like it was turning the tender flesh inside out.

He dripped lubricant onto the exposed part of his penis as he thrust in and out, then carried the lubricant into my vagina with each thrust.

I felt my vaginal opening being completely stretched open, my originally wrinkled labia becoming very small.

He moved like this, moving that enormous thing. Waves of pleasure made me feel like I was floating on air. At that moment, I forgot I was his prisoner. I loved this feeling so much that I loved responding fiercely when he stuck his tongue into my mouth. I

also loved him touching my breasts and pinching my nipples.

Intense pleasure assaulted me again and again, leaving me lying there, enjoying the stimulation from each thrust.

Gradually, his speed began to increase, each deepest penetration bringing the sound of his testicles slapping against my entrance.

Me: "Oh, oh, yeah. Fuck me. Ahhhhhh."

The rapid moans turned into just "ahhhhhh."

His thrusting became more and more intense, driving me almost insane with stimulation.

God, this felt so good.

I'm a married woman with children, and I never knew such pleasurable things existed.

I kept running my hands through my hair, the intense sensation making me forget all shame.

It moved faster and faster inside me, my heart pounding like a rollercoaster. Until he let out a groan and thrust in hard.

My heart seemed to skip several beats, a huge wave of pleasure washing over me, and I trembled violently like a man ejaculating. The feeling seemed uncontrollable, the trembling intensified, my body seemingly unable to stop. The brief ten seconds of excitement felt both fulfilling and endless.

He ejaculated too, and when he did, I felt tears uncontrollably streaming down my face. Were those tears his semen?

"How could this be?" I didn't understand why, but I knew it was a feeling of complete liberation after a true climax.

He smiled and asked, "Want more?"

I hesitated for a moment and asked, "Anything else?"

He laughed, "Plenty."

An hour later, he untied me and left. I took my jogging clothes from the back seat and tied my hair up. After drying the seat, I drove on my way home.

[The End]

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