All of my stories include descriptions of sex scenes that could cause offence
to some people. Please do not read this story if you are offended by perverse
sexual material, or if you are under the legal age of consent for your own
country. These stories are pure fiction and are not based on anyone living or
When is a r-ape not a r-ape?
I pose this question, and maybe once you’ve read the story I’m about to tell,
you will understand why.
The first part of my story happened to me some three months ago, when I was a
naive newly-wed vicar’s wife. I might not be much older in years now, but I’m
definitely not as naive!
I’d known Michael for four years before we got married, we’d met at university,
when he was 22, and I was 19. I guess you'd say I was shy and by the standard of
the other girls in my dorm, very reserved. I'd dated boys, but no boy ever had
more than the briefest feel of my breasts. And even that, was something that
would have caused me to explode with rage, and end any kind of relationship.
Never had any boy had his hand or anything else inside my knickers.
So I was not just a virgin, but an untouched one. This rapidly got me a
reputation, first as a kind of ‘Holy Grail’, that all the boys wanted to be the
first to claim. But over the next three months, they gradually realised, it was
a pointless quest, and eventually boys stopped dating me. I guess it was the
deeply religious upbringing, which made me so determined I would be a ‘pure’
virgin when I eventually walked down the aisle.
I’d been at uni for two years when I met Michael; he was studying divinity, as
he had great plans to enter the church, and travel the world doing gods work. I
was immediately in awe of him the first time I heard him defending his religious
beliefs with a group of students in the uni bar. As just about everyone else I’d
met up to now appeared to be a disciple of the devil, he stood out like a
We started dating, and in the following months got very close to each other. Not
physically, he never attempted to do anything like that, but we were almost
inseparable. Mainly just us two together, in each others company, Michael
talking about his grand plans, and me thinking how wonderful he was. We’d end
the evening with a kiss, but it would only ever be him giving me a light peck on
Well at age 20 I graduated, and left to go back home to my parents. And even
with my degree from uni, I still ended-up working in the farm shop at the very
same farm where I'd first began my working life. Back then I was a part time
stable girl, thirteen years old, working after school and weekends. My duties
were mucking-out, curry-combing the horses and general dogsbody. It was a
thriving place, they looked after most of the horses for the local hunt, and
there was also a riding school run by the farmer’s wife. But when she died in a
riding accident about six months after I'd started uni, the riding school closed
down, and the stables went downhill fast, even the hunt eventually moved its
horses to another stable.
So the farm was now a rundown affair, still owned by the same man now in his
50’s, who had two sons in their early 30’s. He also had two other men working as
hired hands, one again in his 30’s, and the other around the old farmer’s age.
The place still had all manner of farm animals, but now specialised in nothing,
it was still using traditional farming methods that had been used for centuries.
The most modern thing about the farm was the wooden building I worked in, the
farm shop. We sold eggs, potatoes, and most other vegetables when they were in
Michael also left uni, but he however, went on to further training at an
ecumenical college. For the next two years we only saw each other about once a
month. He’d come and use my auntie’s spare room for the weekend; she only lived
just around the corner in the next street to my mom and dad. Most of our time
we’d be in the company of my family, but this never felt to us like we were
inhibited in any way. After all, even if we’d have been spending the whole
weekend on our own, we wouldn’t have done anything different.
Once Michael left college we began planning for our wedding, and he took on a
job working in a local parish, assisting the resident Vicar. Michael never
forgot his dreams of travelling the world, and as such, he turned down offers of
lovely little village parishes, that would have given us beautiful country
vicarages to start our married life in. We both agreed, we’d get married, and
wait for the right overseas assignment, that would allow us to fulfil our dream
of serving god.
So with Michael still working as an assistant to a local vicar, we got married
and rented a small house on a local housing estate. The wedding was a beautiful
event, held obviously in church, and we both had a very large family presence.
Then came the dreaded first night.
I won't say I was disappointed, because, in truth, I never really expected it to
be anything special. We got to the bedroom in the hotel we were staying in, and
he left the room while I got undressed and into bed. Some fifteen minutes or so
later, he knocked on our door, and I told him he could come in. This he did, and
as I’d already turned off the light, he just got himself undressed, and slipped
into bed alongside me.
It felt really strange, having another person in bed, and as his arm reached
over my body, his hand brushed across my breasts. They weren’t naked, I had on a
soft silk night-dress, but the feeling that shot through my body was a mixture
of fear and anticipation. He was soon above me, taking his weight on his elbows
and knees, while he began to kiss me on my lips. These were the first long
lingering kisses I’d ever known, and yes the kisses combined with his hands
fondling my nipples, sort of relax me a little.
Then I was aware he was now using his hand to lift the hem of my night-dress,
and his knees were moving in between mine, easing my legs open. This once again
stirred feelings; but they were mainly feelings of fear, not excitement. I guess
I’d fought-off this moment for so long, it was difficult to understand how it
could now be the right thing to do. But I knew it was, and so I let my legs be
spread wide open.
Then his fingers touched my secret place, and I almost instinctively fought to
get my legs back together to protect it. But as I say, I knew I had to let him,
and even though I wasn’t knowingly turned-on, the kisses and touching of
breasts, must have stimulated me a little. For, as his fingers stroked along my
folded lips, they glided easily in the fluid now coming from my ... Then as his
finger found my ... I felt it pushing up inside me.
The feeling as it entered was nice, but again I was scared, so I never got a
massive rush of pleasure, like I’d heard those slutty girls at uni talking
about. He pushed his finger up to its full length, and then pulled it back out
and began to explore my folded lips with it. After less than half a minute of
probing and stroking, the finger moved to one side, and I felt what must have
been his penis. I’d never seen or felt one before, not that I saw it this time,
but I sure felt it. He slid it back and forth along my slit, and then when he
found the entrance he was searching for, he pushed.
Where he’d been fingering me, I think he’d worked the wetness all around my
slit, so when he pushed, I felt my ... stretching open. He slid it up slowly at
first, and then began frenziedly jerking his hips. As he jerked, he was gasping
and moaning, and then he suddenly collapsed down onto me. My first reaction was
to think something was wrong, had he had a heart attack or something. His dead
weight pinned me to the bed where I lay for some minutes, he was motionless
apart from his pounding chest as he gasped for air.
Then he lifted his weight from me, and looked into my eyes.
“Well my darling. Did you like it?”
So that was it? The magical event? The thing boys go so crazy over? The thing
that causes jealousy between girls who have been childhood companions? But how
could I tell him it was a non event?
“Michael. You were wonderful. So gentle. I love you.”
Things were no better, the next time, it felt like Michael was just using my
body, and there was no sensation of love or tenderness. This second event began
one night nearly three months later, after we’d been watching a film on
television. We’d begun to watch this film, and even though it was obvious it was
about rape, Michael and I watched intently, him holding me closely to his chest.
But towards the end of the film it came to the actual rape scene, it was so
graphic, showing the whole event. The girl looked like she would be gang raped
by a room full of men, maybe as many as twenty. Michael watched in a trance like
state as the first man forced himself on this poor girl, and then as he climaxed
inside her, Michael shot to his feet. He grabbed the controller, and turned the
TV off; making some comments about the filth that is now being shown on our
And then saying, “come on, we’re going to bed.”
But before we’d been in bed a couple of minutes, his arm began to make its way
across and down my body, soon it was sliding up under my night-dress. He didn’t
climb above me like before and start kissing my lips or fondling my breasts. As
he reached the tops of my legs, I let my legs part, and he was soon probing
looking for and entrance. I was totally dry and un-aroused, so this made his
progress difficult, but once his fingers found my..., he suddenly was on top of
me. He lifted my legs up and wide-open in a similar manner to how the man on TV
had just done with that poor girl. His penis pushed up inside me, and hurt like
hell. And also like that poor girl, I wanted to scream and cry out. But I
managed to stifle any noises I'd wanted to make, bearing the pain in silence, as
he ripped his way inside me. His satisfaction was immediate as he jerked his
penis; and then he again collapsed on top of me, lying there like a dead weight
until he’d re-gained his breath. This part was an exact repeat of the first
But this time, when he regained his breath, he didn’t say a thing; he just
turned over and was asleep in seconds. I lay there for a good half hour thinking
and wondering; what was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I a real woman? What had made
me so useless at sex? I had no idea, but one thing I knew for absolute sure;
there was no way I would ever enjoy this kind of animal behaviour.
I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself, and then went back to bed and cried.
I knew sex was something men needed, I also knew most women learned to at least
endure, and some to even enjoy it. But this could never be me.
Some nights later, again prompted by something on TV we began to talk about sex.
The way Michael was talking, it was as though that last event had never
happened, and the only time we’d ever indulged had been that first wedding
night. The upshot of our, or should I say Michael's reasoning, was that we both
agreed, sex was no more than just god’s method of pro-creation. And as we
weren’t ready to start a family until after we’d completed our overseas
assignment, we decided we’d abstain.
The next few months, we began in earnest on planning towards our overseas
commitment. Part of this process was physical training, doing weekend fell
walking. I say weekends, but his job being mainly a Sunday occupation, it only
really left Saturdays free for our walks. Yorkshire in England is famous for its
hills and Mooreland countryside. And we’d go out walking nearly every weekend,
walking round trips of 20 plus miles up the hills along rough tracks in all
It was on one of these treks that my real story began. A bright mid-summer
Saturday morning, the weather forecast had warned of rain, but the skies
certainly didn’t look like they had their predictions right. We drove out to the
moors, in Michael’s dad’s camper-van. We certainly couldn’t afford anything like
this kind of luxury, but we borrowed this off Phillip (Michael’s dad) most
weekends. It was fully kitted out, and ideal as a base when returning from a
long trek. So as per normal, we parked in one of the many tourist car parks in
the valleys below the hills.
This as I said had become our normal weekend activity, and as usual, we pulled
our big packs onto our backs, and off we set. As I’d said the sun was shining,
and the views as we climbed higher were stunning as always. I guess we’d been
walking for about half an hour, when the skies suddenly turned black. And I do
mean black! It was almost like an eclipse of the sun.
Within seconds a violent wind sprung-up, seemingly from nowhere, and the rain
began to thrash down with a vengeance. As the force of this gale was coming
across the hill sideways, it was difficult to stand up, let alone try to keep
walking. It was howling that loud, talking, or to be more precise, hearing what
was being said, was just impossible. Michael turned to me and held me tightly to
him. He began to use hand signals, and if I interpreted him correctly, he was
indicating we should make our way back down.
Then as he tried to edge himself past me on the slippy narrow ledge pathway, so
he could lead the way back down the hill-side, he missed his footing. I tried to
grab him, not that I’d have been strong enough to stop him, but in any case I
was too slow. He fell about four feet, and crashed into a heap in the crevice
between two large rocks.
This was bad enough, but if we’d have been a few feet along the path in either
direction, there might not have been anything to block his fall. So even though
I could tell instantly, that falling against these rocks had hurt him, without
these rocks, he could have fallen to his death.
As it was, I scrambled my way down into the crevice, and crouched alongside
Michael. Even with my help, it was obvious his foot and ankle were giving him
that much pain, it was impossible for him to stand, let alone climb back to the
path, and walk back down the hill. There weren’t any obvious signs of broken
bones sticking out anywhere, or any sign of blood loss.
By shouting directly into his ear, and then pressing my ear against his mouth,
we managed some simple communication. From this I established it was most likely
to be a broken or badly twisted ankle. But what ever, he didn’t think he’d get
back down the hill without extra help. So as he felt safe enough perched in
between the rocks, he was indicating I should try to make my way down the hill
to bring back some extra help.
As we’d only been climbing the hill for about half an hour, you’d expect it
would only take about the same time, or less to go back down. But with this
howling wind and rain lashing down, I’d been struggling my way down the path,
almost on my hands and knees for a good half hour, when almost as suddenly as it
had started, the wind and rain both stopped. Then in less than a minute the sun
was shining down so brightly, I had to shade my eyes.
It was the weirdest storm I’d ever experienced, and now it had stopped, there
was a kind of eerie silence, I guess it was the lack of birds singing. The only
sound was running and dripping water as it flowed down the rocky path, and
dripped from the leaves of the gorse bushes.
But now as my eyes became accustomed to the light, I could see for miles in all
directions. And to my dismay, I wasn’t even half way down! But from where I
stood, I could see the whole car park, and besides our camper-van, there was
only one other vehicle parked down there. I knew I had to get to the bottom of
the hill before that vehicle left.
Now the wind and rain had stopped, it was easier going, but I still had to be
very careful, as the steep rocky path was slippery with the wet mud the rain had
washed down. So I made my way as quickly as I dare, and once down to flat
ground, I ran as fast as I could towards the exit of the car park to head off
the vehicle that was parked there, in the event that it should start to leave.
The whole area was like something from a horror movie, steam was rising
everywhere as the burning hot sun lifted the fresh rainfall from roads, grass
and plants alike. As it was, I got to the gates of the car park, and the vehicle
was still stationary about half way along the parking bays. As I ran towards it,
the occupants all began to climb out of what I could now see was a Land Rover
mountain rescue vehicle. By the time I’d reached where it was parked, all four
men were out and standing there waiting for me to arrive.
“Slow down love. What has happened?”
“It’s my Michael, he’s fallen. He’s still up near the top of that hill,” I said
as I pointed up.
“Ok love. Just take your time; lets get all the facts first. We’ll soon have him
sorted for you,” this was the man who’d spoken first, and who appeared to be the
one in charge.
They asked me all about what had happened, and how badly injured I thought he
was, and then they decided a stretcher would be needed. One was brought from the
back of their vehicle, and with them all carrying their own rescue packs, they
all began to follow me back to the hill. They had said it would be more sensible
for me to wait with the vehicles, and that they would go up the hill and find my
Michael themselves. But I insisted I’d show them the way.
I ran across the field to the gate, and began to climb over. This was where I
fell foul of being in too much of a rush. I’d got to the top of one side of the
gate, and swung my leg over the top. But as I began to throw my weight over the
gate, the newly placed foot slipped off the bar of the gate.
I dropped down onto the top rung of the gate, not only scrubbing the inside of
my legs, but also landing very heavily on my crotch. This sudden whack stunned
me momentarily, and I toppled over the gate, scrubbing my inside leg again as I
slithered from the top rung. I fell chest forwards, and in my stunned state, the
natural reaction of breaking a fall with your arms, just didn’t happen. I landed
on the ground on the other side of the gate taking most of the fall with my
breasts. This in itself would have been sufficient to wind me. I lay there,
conscious, but seemingly unable to help myself up. In seconds all of the men
were gathered around me. The man who appeared to be in charge gave me a quick
check asking how many fingers he was holding up, etc. And then when he was
satisfied it was safe to do so, they helped me to my feet. He decided he would
take me back to the car park to give me a full check over, whilst his companions
continued up to the top of the hill, to rescue my Michael.
I wasn’t really in any condition to argue, and actually I’m not sure if I’d have
managed the climb up that hill. As it was, he had his arm wrapped around my
waist, and I had mine around his shoulder as he helped me to make my way back
across the field. That was, of course, after they’d opened the gate to let me
through, there was no way I could have climbed back over. On our way to the car
park, I told him my name was Shirley, and my husband’s name. I also told him
briefly about how long we’d been married, and that my husband was a vicar, and
we were training to prepare ourselves for an overseas assignment in some remote
developing world region.
Ian, this was the head man of the rescue team, said being as our vehicle was a
camper-van it would have more room, and he’d be able to examine me easier in
there. He explained he was fully trained medically, and there was nothing to
worry about. So once he’d helped me up into the back of our camper, he said he'd
go and get some kit from his vehicle, and as I was thoroughly soaking wet, I
should undress, get myself dried, and then put on some dry clothes. He said he’d
knock before he came back in, but I explained that wasn’t necessary, as I could
close-off the bedroom compartment, and get myself changed in there.
So he went one way, and I closed myself into my bedroom, and stripped naked. I
dried myself down, and then got out some clean dry clothes. Whilst I was busy
pulling on my knickers, I heard the outside door opening.
“It’s only me.”
I recognised Ian’s voice, “Ok, I won't be long, I’m just getting dressed.”
“Ok love. Just take your time. While I’m waiting, I’ll pop the kettle on, I’m
sure a nice hot cup of tea will do you the world of good.”
“Thank you. I’m sure you’re right, there is nothing like it to warm you up.”
Well I’d soon finished dressing, and I pushed back the partition doors, to open
up the full compartment.
“Are, there you are. Teas in the cups, do you take sugar?”
“No thank you.”
There you go then, that’s just what you need, something hot inside you.”
“Thank you, you’ve been ever so kind.”
“Don’t be silly, you drink that up, and then I’ll give you the once over, make
sure you haven’t done any serious damage.”
“I’m sure there’s no need, I’m feeling better already.”
“Look Shirley my dear, last time I let you lead us up the hill, and that was
against my better judgement, and look what happened. This time, I think you
should listen to me. After all, if you are ok, its cost us nothing, but if I
find something wrong, then the sooner we get you fixed the better. Agreed?”
“I guess so.”
“Well just so you know there’s nothing funny going on, I’ve set up my nanny-cam
on the side cupboard over there, which will record everything that happens.”
“There’s no need for that is there?”
“I'm afraid there is. It's silly I Know, but these days, it’s something we have
to do. You know, all these cases of women accusing doctors of improper conduct.
And in any case, it is as much for you, everything I do is recorded, so it’s as
safe as being back in the surgery with a nurse in attendance.”
“Ok, if we have to, but it feels very strange, the thought of you examining me,
and it being recorded.”
“Don’t worry, I guarantee, once we get started, you’ll forget it’s even there.
Speaking of which, I see you’ve finished your tea, so if you sit back over there
on the bed, I’ll come and sit along side you.”
I sat on the bed, and he came across, but before he sat, he lent forwards
“Come on then, I’ll help you off with that jumper.”
His hands took hold of the hem of my woolly jumper, and I lifted my arms, as he
pulled it up and over my head.
I was now sat in front of this stranger with just a bra covering my breasts.
Still stood up, he leant over top of my head, and reached down to release the
clip on my bra.
“Ok we’ll just help you off with this.”
He placed it to one side on the bed, and sat sideways along side me, bringing
his left hand across to cup first my right, and then my left bust. He gently
squeezed and fondled under, to the sides, and all around each breast. Asking as
he did, “Is this hurting?”
“No, they’re a little sore, but you’re not hurting.”
“Ok, I’m just going to check if your sensory reactions have been damaged. Do you
know what I mean by that?”
“Ok, its simple really, you are married, so you’ll know there are parts of your
body that react to being touched. You know what I mean now?”
Maybe I was married, and I guess he thought that would mean I’d be sexually
experienced, but I’d only been made love to twice. I really had no idea what he
was talking about.
“I’m not sure.”
“Ok, let me ask you this, when your Michael touches your nipples like this, does
it start a tingling sensation anywhere?”
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