Returning back inside I put the laundry down in my room to be sorted later and then went to the kitchen to begin making my dinner. As I walked into the kitchen I discovered there was an intruder waiting for me, he looked at me and said. “Hello, Sweetie.”
I freaked at seeing him and he reached out and took hold of me. I started to panic and began to flail uselessly about, trying to break free of his grasp. Fear drove me but there was no escape from his clutches.
After a couple of minutes, I began to tire, he was much stronger than me, then I slipped and we tumbled to the floor. I felt his grip pull me over and I ended up on my back, with the guy sitting on top of me.
The guy pulled open my blouse, then pulled up my cami and lifted my bra, he rubbed and squeezed my tits, then he sucked my nipples very hard while I squirmed and writhed under him.
Then I felt him reach down and begin to pull up my skirt, I tried hard to keep my skirt down, but again he was simply too strong for me. His hand slipped up under my skirt and he began to rub my belly. Then his hand slipped over to my hip and he took hold of my panties, with a firm pull, he eased my panties down until they were stretched across my mid-thighs, and awkward and restricting position for them.
I felt totally helpless now with my bare pussy exposed to the intruder, he looked down and with a wolfish grin, he commented, “You have a very nice, cute, little girly pussy.”
I felt very ashamed and belittled.
Then to my horror, the guy unzipped his jeans and withdrew his swollen cock. He then placed his cock along my thighs, aiming his cock directly at my pussy. Deep fear engulfed me again. He was about to rape me.
His hands found my wrists and without much effort he drew my arms up each side of my head, pinning me down very effectively. Then his weight came down and onto my body, trapping me more. I felt his cock slide up along my thighs then his cock tip pressed against my bare slit.
I tried to squirm and writhe hoping to keep his cock out, but my panties held my legs together and made it difficult for me to move my legs. He kept on pressing his cock hard up against me, then with a shift in his angle I felt his cock slip down towards my pussy entrance. His cock began to worm its way closer then it started to slowly squeeze into me. I began to cry.
The guy forced his cock a bit further inside me, then he began to slowly thrust, his cock slipping a little bit deeper each time. I had never been fucked while having my legs together before, it made his cock feel tighter and a bit more awkward. But it also meant that his cock rubbed more firmly on my pussy lips and that started to put pressure onto my clit.
Unable to move, I felt the guys cock slowly working its way deeper into my body, and as it did, I felt his cock rub more and more against my lips and the added sensations of his cock putting more pressure onto my clit.
I began to feel an odd kind of numbness from my lower body. A shift from the awkward tightness to a more a kind of soft warmth and increasing ease as his cock continued to probe deeper into my body. Then I began to realize the sensations were beginning to spread out from my pussy, I could feel the wetness as my body adjusted to the action of his cock driving inside me, and I began to feel the warm glow of arousal as my clit began to become swollen from the pressure.
I felt very confused by how my body was reacting, and then just to add insult to injury, I began to realize I could feel an orgasm begin to build. I really did not want to orgasm while being raped.
Try as I might I could not stop the sensations of the orgasm from continuing to build, I tried hard to hold off but in the end, it was just too hard to prevent.
Gasping, I arched up as the orgasm rippled through my body, I felt him thrust in as I arched and his cock slid much deeper inside me, fully penetrating me.
“That’s the way, good girl, well done!” he whispered into my ear.
Shame and deep embarrassment filled my thoughts, he knew that I had orgasmed, and he seemed to be enjoying the idea that he had made me orgasm.
His thrusts went much deeper as he carried on with raping me, it didn’t take too long before I felt another orgasm begin to build. I just didn’t know what to do. The orgasm was more intense and lasted longer, and I began to cry again as I knew he now had total control over my body.
Somehow I began to feel as if I was floating, kind of caught up in a raw sexual high, his cock driving in and making me orgasm several more times, each getting more and more intense.
Then I felt a small shit in his action. He began to go a bit faster and I felt his body rubbing harder and harsher against mine. The euphoria I was feeling began to ebb, I became more aware of his increasing action.
He then thrust in very hard, and I then felt a sudden, powerful surge going on up into me, I freaked and panicked, but he just held me very tightly. I could feel his cock pulsing and twitching deep inside me. Deep fear and dread filled me, but there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.
This was it, the moment of truth, I was now “RAPED”.
I felt the last spasms of his cock releasing his raping cum deep into my body, knowing he was getting it exactly where he wanted it to be, and all of it, just for me.
He just lay there on top of me, his cock still wedged deep inside my pussy, but he seemed very pleased with himself. My mind was in a spin, I had just been raped, I had the rapist cum deep inside my pussy, and I was still trapped under him.
Then he moved, eased out and stood up, straightening his clothes.
“You were wonderful!”, his words came to me as he then walked out my back door, leaving me alone and raped.
Shock and fear filled me, my body exhausted by the raw sexual release I had endured. I slowly rolled over, pulling up my panties and then crawled off to the bathroom. Crying, I slowly climbing up to sit on the toilet, I then tried to wipe away his raping cum. But as I tried, I found out his cum was extremely thick and very sticky, it did not want to budge, but it stayed wanted to stay in place.
“No!” I cried, “No.”
I desperately needed to get his raping cum out. I had no protection and I was beginning to freak and panic, I started to run about in tiny circles and then I hopped from leg to leg. Nothing, my panic increased as I tried more and more things to try and shift the raping cum from deep inside my pussy. Nothing seemed to work and I got more and more wound up, making myself feel sick and dizzy. Exhausted, I reluctantly made my way to my bedroom to lie down for a few minutes and then to decide what to do. A huge wave of tiredness swept over me and I close my eyes just for a moment.
I woke as my alarm clock went off the next morning. I just could not believe I had passed out for the whole night. I felt dismayed, and desperately in need of a hot shower to try to get myself a bit better cleaned up.
The hot shower was bliss, but as I stood there with water cascading down my body, I felt a blob of thick cum ooze out of my pussy, and slide down my leg and off into the drain. A moment later a second blob followed the first. I felt sick again, the raping cum had stayed in place all night. Three more blobs eased out over the next few minutes, then I had enough of being in the shower.
Dressed, I managed to call my work to tell them I would not be in, then I had a full-on panic attack, freaking out and running about in tiny circles again. Most of the day was spent crying or having more panic attacks. Finally, I managed to calm down enough to try and think about what I should do. Then I realized I should ring my doctor, What I needed to get was the EMC Pills. I made the call but I was unable to get an appointment until after the weekend, on Monday afternoon.
A bit happier that I had figured out what to do, I tried to keep calm over the weekend, but still had daily panic attacks. Once I had the pills, that would end my current fears about the rape.
Monday afternoon, I made my way to see my doctor, but once there, I was informed that the EMC pills needed to be taken within three days, and it was now day five since things happened. There was no point in using the pills as they would most likely be ineffective.
I swore under my breath, but I tried to keep calm, I was given a test kit, and told I should use it in three weeks time if my period did not arrive within that time. There was nothing more that could be done until I had a result back either way.
I can’t recall how I made it home, but I did, then I marked on my diary the dates I need to know and when I might need the testing kit. This was not what I wanted to do but now I had very little choice.
I went back to work, hoping to keep a straight face and try to avoid any questions why I was away, my luck there held. Each day I marked off on my diary, each day seemed to drag and it felt as if it was an agony while I waited. I really hated the idea that the rapist had been able to impregnate me. I hoped the day my period was due would hurry up and arrive along with my period.
Counting down, in three days, two, one, my period was due, any moment, sometimes it ran a day or two later, sit and wait. Two, three, four days late, nothing, fear, panic, dismay. It was still ten days before I was due to be using the testing kit.
Feeling more cramps than normal, my fear and dread increased. Feeling dismayed, I realized that in reality, I had done nothing that would have prevented the prospects of pregnancy from happening.
Four days till I was due to be using the kit, more cramps but still no period, I knew then just how the test was going to go.
Three days, more fear and dread, two days, one day, then I woke and knew I had to pee on the kit. I set it all out in the bathroom and sat on the toilet. I began to cry as I angled the test stick beneath me. I needed to pee but somehow I couldn’t. I sat there and waited, my bladder began to ache and I knew I really needed to pee. Then a slow drip, drip eased out, the drops sliding off the stick and then slowly the pee began to trickle out. I felt humiliated having to pee on the stick.
Carefully I put the kit onto the vanity, and then finished on the toilet.
I dreaded to look at the kit, I knew the result would not be what I wanted, but what I expected.
Slowly I turned and looked, the bright blue positive lines were showing up.
No doubts about that. I was pregnant to the rapist. I burst into tears, I really did not want to be pregnant.
I made another appointment to see my doctor, confirming that I was now officially six weeks pregnant, and then I made arrangements to go and see a specialist in two weeks’ time to get a termination.
Relief at making the appointment, but again an agonizing wait for the day to arrive, knowing that the rape pregnancy would progress while I had to wait.
Again I counted down the days, hoping nothing would go wrong for me, I had an early morning appointment and was told to be there fifteen minutes early. Not trusting myself to drive, I caught the bus, but then the bus broke down. We were informed it would only take a few minutes to fix, but time marched on. Then they told us a replacement bus would be there in ten minutes, it was going to cut it very fine for me. The bus arrived in twenty minutes, then they had a dispute over the driver and his time for his shift had run out. They needed a new driver.
I ended up well over an hour late, they would not do anything for me that day, but rebook me again for two weeks time. I was really pissed off an upset by the time I got home again. I faced another two weeks of being pregnant when I thought that I would no longer be pregnant, and that meant the pregnancy would continue to progress. I was not happy at that prospect.
Each day seemed to drag as I waited for the next appointment, I started to get morning sickness as well just to make me know that I was still pregnant. I also found I had to visit the bathroom to pee a lot more frequently.
Then as my luck would have it, the morning sickness kicked in very bad on the morning of my next appointment, I got as far as my bathroom, I spent most of the day in the bathroom, finally having to rebook my appointment again.
was fed up with still being pregnant to the rapist and I really wanted to get it sorted. I sure as hell did not want to be pregnant any longer than needed. I got a bit of a shock a few days later after my shower when I noticed a small but definite bump in my belly. Running my hand over it I could feel my swollen womb beneath my skin.
After a few more days, I started to feel somewhat better, the morning sickness eased off and I was almost back to normal by the time of my next appointment. Then I got a call informing me that the specialist was off sick, and they were moving my appointment to the following week. While not as bad as two weeks, it was starting to grate on me all the delays, I hoped that nothing would go wrong by the time I went again.
I arrived almost an hour early at the specialist’s, and sat and waited until I was called. I went through to an examination room where they would check the status of my pregnancy and then send me through to get the termination. It was going to be quite simple. I removed my underwear and laid ready for my exam, the doctor proceeded to give me quite a thorough exam, both inside and out. The asked me if my dates were accurate, as they thought I was now seventeen weeks pregnant, not thirteen as I had informed them. I insisted my dates were correct, but they weren’t prepared to go with that. Another doctor then gave me a brief exam and agreed that I was closer to seventeen weeks not thirteen. I did not understand how they concluded that. They then informed me that they were sorry, that I was too far along to carry on with the procedure.
As I was beyond fourteen weeks, and that my dates must have been wrong. They then informed me there was a different procedure that could be done up to twenty weeks, it was only available in the main centers, but not locally.
I slowly left the clinic and went back home, I still pregnant to the rapist. I sat on my bed and cried again, I was totally fed up, how on earth could I be seventeen weeks? I knew full well when I had been raped. If I tried to get the other procedure would they tell me I was too far along too? I began to doubt myself, I just wanted this nightmare to end.
I rang to make another appointment with my doctor, but they were away for a week, and the locum who was in attendance I did not like. No! I would not go and see him. I knew then my chances of getting a termination in time was now extinguished.
I was still pregnant to the rapist, and that was not going to change any time soon. The next morning after my shower, I stood naked in my bathroom, looking in the mirror at the small and unwelcome bulge in my lower belly. I also noticed that my breasts were now more perky and had begun to swell. I was going to need new bras. I also knew that I really did not want to be pregnant.
The next few days passed in a bit of a blur, then I made another appointment to see my doctor, just to find out what I was going to need to know, as the unwanted pregnancy continued.
I began to wear loose-fitting clothing more, as the bump in my belly did not show any signs of going away, but began to get a little bit bigger. I hoped that I could avoid anyone noticing the unwelcome intrusion in my life. My visit to see the doctor was fairly brief, I was given a pile of paperwork and then referred to see one of the local midwives. One small benefit I discovered was that I did not need to pay for any pregnancy-related visits.
Then much to my horror over the next few days, my belly decided to expand out rather more, the bump pushed out much further than before, it was clear now that I was well and truly pregnant.
A couple of days later I had a call from Helen, the midwife, and she arranged to come and visit me at my home. She arrived on time and greeted me, then we sat in my lounge while she told me what care I was going to have for me and my baby.
Just one word stuck in my mind shocking me for a moment, BABY! I was going to have a baby. Then I felt really dumb, yes, of course, I was going to have a baby, but up until now I had just been pregnant, and I had honestly expected that not to continue. But the pregnancy was going to continue, and then yes, I would have to have the baby.
After a quick listen and feel of my belly, she seemed to think all was well and that I was about eighteen to nineteen weeks pregnant. She would arrange for me to have a scan in a few week’s time and she would visit me again in two weeks.
After the midwife left, the shame and shock returned. Baby, I was going to have a baby. I had the rape baby in my belly and would carry on having the rape baby inside me until I gave birth. I really hated the idea that I was going to have to have a rape baby.
The next few days dragged as I watch in dismay as my belly began to firm up and pushed further out. I went shopping for new clothes and bras. Then as I waited for the bus back home an old woman came up to me, and proceed to pat my belly, telling me just how lucky I was. Then she walked away, leaving me confused and somewhat upset. A few days later I was sent a notice about having my pregnancy scan, and detail of what to do and to make sure I had a full bladder when I was there.
I also had to tell my boss that I was pregnant, I had expected a kind of negative reaction, but they seemed to accept it as just par for the course. I would be entitled to maternity leave when it was time for my baby to arrive.
A few more days later the midwife returned, checked to see if I had the scan booked, and then did a quick exam, but then she lingered over my belly while trying to hear the heartbeat. After a few moments, she straightened up and smiled, she told me she heard a good strong heartbeat. All was going well. She decided that she would come and visit me again once I had my scan in three weeks’ time.
Day by day, I took each one at a time, I watch in dismay as my belly continues to expand. It started to get a little bit in my way. There was no hope now of trying to hide my belly, and I was aware of people looking at it and taking note of how big it was growing. All this began to take its toll on me and I grew more and more tired and grumpy.
I was beginning to get very fed up with being pregnant still, and I wasn’t even halfway through my pregnancy. I still hated and resented having to be pregnant to the rapist.
The day of my scan arrived and I made my way into the clinic, my bladder full and beginning to get uncomfortable. Another woman went in before me and I sat slowly squirming while I waited for my turn.
At last, I was called and asked to lay on the exam table, I eased my skirt up out of the way, and they applied the jelly to assist in taking the scan. They rubbed the scanner over my belly a couple of times then focused on what looked like a leg. They took a snapshot and moved onto another leg, then the technician stopped, changed angle and looked again. Images swam on the screen, and then I saw what appeared to be a baby’s head, then another head.
“Oh, Oh my,” the technician paused, “Well, did you know that you were carrying twins?”
“Twins?” I gasped. “No, I didn’t know.”
Deep disbelief flooded me, and I barely held on trying hard not to pee. No way should I have to be having twins. It was bad enough carrying one rape baby from the rapist but have to carry two rape babies was going to be even more of a nightmare.
I stayed still and silent during the rest of the scanning, not daring to move lest I wet myself.
“Almost done,” The technician told me. “It looks like you are just on nineteen weeks pregnant now. All is looking good for you. The toilet is just across the hall, I’m done, off you go.”
I just made it into the cubicle when I lost control, a flood released, but luckily most of it managed to go where I had hoped. Not too much to clean up.
The scan has shown me two things, the first was that I had twin rape babies inside me, and the second confirmed my dates of how far along I was now pregnant.
The next day the midwife came and discussed care of having twin babies, she told me of a support group of expectant mothers who were having twins and thought it was a good idea that I meet up with them.
Over the next few days, I considered what to do and rang the group to let them know I wished to attend. They were very helpful and good to deal with. For the next month or so, I had frequent visits from the midwife and I also visited the group. I began to feel that somehow I was going to get through with this after all.
I still hated and resented being pregnant. My belly was getting very swollen, but I still had at least a couple more months to go.
A couple more weeks later I was told that I had to get more rest and if I didn’t I would be ordered to have complete bed rest. I tried to ease up but it was just getting too hard for me, my belly was huge now and I kept on running out of puff.
The next day I was told to stay home and rest! The midwife came to double-check on me over the day to ensure I did not get too stressed.
That night I had a full-on flashback of the rape, feeling in my mind him cuming up me, impregnating me. I woke in tears, my body aching. I had had enough. I sure as hell did not want to have his rape babies. But his rape babies were still in my swollen belly, I still had to carry them about inside me. No, there was nothing that I could do to change that. I cried again.
I had a rough week of crying and trying to stay calm while I was on my bed rest. I kept getting flashbacks at random times, making me very withdrawn and deeply resentful.
Members of the support group came and went cheering me up somewhat before I relapsed back into my morbid state.
Slowly I began to make headway and started to get out of me deep dark moods. I knew I was running out of time to get the spare room turned into a nursery.
Time was running out for me, I was almost 37 weeks pregnant when pain gripped my belly. It was time.
Helen took me into the hospital and stayed with me as I went through my labour.
My babies had arrived, it was now up to me to take care of them and raise them the best I could.