overwhelm me. But, sometimes, even that wasn't enough and I found myself out in the streets or in bars trying to pick up men to fuck me.
Still, however, I maintained my resolve not to get involved, and whatever sex I had was on a one-night-stand basis. Most of the time I tried to keep busy improving myself and it seemed like I was always in motion. Fortunately, the schooling I had gotten while married to Tom enabled me to get a decent job for the first time in my life, which meant I could afford a nice apartment that I could spend time decorating. What helped me keep myself together as much as anything was the volunteer work I took up at the children's hospital.
Months went by, and before I knew it I had passed my twenty-second birthday. Still, I was painfully aware through every waking hour, and frequently through my dreams, that I was missing something, and that something was sex on a continuous basis. I confided in Dolly, my co-worker at the office, and she wound up repaying the confidence I placed in her by concluding that I was 'plain sex-hungry'.
And now, after all this time, I had given in to the lure of an attractive man and accepted this luncheon date with Perry Middleton. Although part of me yearned to receive sexual gratification, I had developed the non-sexual part of my thinking to such an extent that I knew for my own self-respect and emotional well-being I had to keep a safe, respectable distance from him.
The luncheon date turned out to be very tame. Perry was waiting for me in front of the restaurant at one. 'Hi,' he said eagerly. 'You'll probably think I'm crazy, but I couldn't wait inside. I was afraid you'd stand me up.' He gave me a big grin and I had to admit that he was very appealing in a shy way.
I smiled faintly and he led me inside.
The waitress gave us a booth in the back. When she walked away, Perry said earnestly, 'I hope you don't think I make a habit of meeting girls this way.
'I didn't think about it one way or the other,' I said, deliberately trying to sound indifferent.
He went on trying to make conversation, and I politely answered, but always kept a certain amount of aloofness. Finally, he blurted out, 'What's the matter? You seem as though you don't like me.'
He was so nice that his obvious disappointment made me feel like a heel. I explained to him that, as a matter of fact, he was the nicest man I had met in some time, but that, frankly, I'd had some recent romantic reversals and I was hesitant about getting involved again.
'I can assure you I'm harmless,' he said, smiling, and I had to laugh. 'Can I see you again?' he asked.
'Why don't you call me,' I said. 'My lunch hour is almost over and I have to get back to the office.' I started to get up.
'What's your number?' he asked.
'It's in the book,' I said.
'I don't even know your name…
'Honeysuckle Rafferty. Thanks for the lunch, Perry, I'll talk to you later,' I said, and left.
The telephone book also includes a person's address as well as their phone number, something I hadn't thought of when I'd given Perry my name and told him to look me up in the book. When I got home that evening I discovered that he had decided to find out where I lived instead of calling me because he was waiting outside my door. I was quite surprised to see him, but managed to display surface calm when I said, 'Hello. I thought you were going to call me?'
'I couldn't wait to see you,' he said. There was something odd about-the way he was standing. His arms were- behind him as though he were concealing something.
'I'm flattered, Perry,' I said, 'but I'm tired and want to take a hot bath.'
'I'd like to come in,' he said.
'I'm sorry, Perry,' I said, starting to lose my patience but trying not to show it, 'maybe some other time.'
I started to unlock the door, and just as the key turned he suddenly leapt at me, pulling his arms from behind him and revealing a butcher knife in one hand. I stood petrified as he brandished the knife. Before I could move he grabbed me around the neck with one arm and held the knife to my throat, hissing in my ear, 'Let me in, or I'll slit your throat right here, I swear it.'
As the cold steel of the knife nicked my throat, I knew I had no choice. I opened the door and we walked inside, his arm still clutched around my neck with the knife at my throat as he kicked the door shut.
'You know what I'm going to do, don't you?' he said.
'You're going to rape me,' I said resignedly.
'That's right. A girl who's smart enough to figure that out isn't going to be dumb enough to resist, right?'
I nodded my head yes. Inside, I was thinking that I had no right to resist After all, I had brought it on myself by breaking my vow and accepting the date with him and leading him on. I just wanted to get it over with without being hurt.
'Take off your clothes,' he instructed me, freeing me at last. 'But no tricks or I'll kill you.'
I kicked off my shoes, and then reached up under my skirt and started working my pantyhose down my hips and legs. I was now nude underneath because I hadn't been wearing any panties. I unbuttoned the skirt and let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. After I slipped my sweater over my head and let it drop to the floor, I was wearing only my bra. I was starting to remove it when he came over and stood next to me.
'Let me do it,' he said. Before I could move he slipped the cold blade of his knife beneath one of the straps and silt it. Then he moved the blade to the other side and did the same thing. Finally he placed the point of the knife between my tits and flicked it upward, slashing the front of my bra and drawing blood from a small nick on my chest. My bra fell to the floor and I stood naked before him, blood trickling from between my tits and down my belly.
'What do you want me to do now?' I said, anxious to get the whole thing over with.
'Take my prick out of my pants and suck it,' he commanded.
I leaned over and started to unzip his fly.
'On your knees, bitch, on your knees!' he spat at me.
I quickly dropped to my knees and continued unzipping his pants. To my surprise, when I stuck my hand inside his fly I could feel nothing. After feeling around for a few seconds I finally located his cock and discovered that it was completely limp. When I pulled it out, I saw that it was shrunken-looking. I couldn't understand how he couldn't have a hard-on when he seemed so aroused, panting like a bull over me.
'Suck, suck it, you cunt,' he snarled.
I put my mouth over his shriveled cock, washing it in saliva, working my tongue over its soft head. But nothing happened. Then it hit me: Perry was impotent! He must have had something stuck in his pants that day I first saw him in the restaurant and I noticed a bulge. He was even more sexually confused than I was, and was acting out his confusion and frustration over being impotent by attempting to rape me. Obviously, he hated women and blamed them for his affliction. I was sure of this as the longer and harder I sucked, the limper his cock became.
And then, after I had been futilely sucking him for perhaps five minutes, he suddenly lunged his knee upward and crashed it against my jaw sending me hurtling back across the room, my head in a daze. I lay there on my back, my legs apart, feeling my jaw start to swell, trying to remain conscious.
'You bitch, you rotten bitch!' he screamed. 'You're all alike. You're all whores. There isn't one of you decent enough to make me want you, to satisfy me.' Then he advanced menacingly toward me, snarling, 'I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget, you cocksucking slut!'
Oh, God, I thought, he's going to kill me! But I was too terrified to scream. Then, just as he reached where I was lying, he threw away the knife, and I breathed a sigh of relief. But without warning, he shot his foot between my parted thighs, kicking me in the crotch with all of his might. The pain was excruciating as blackness started to envelop my senses and I knew I was going to be spared from any more of it because I was going to pass out. I was almost grateful as I slid into the abyss of unconsciousness.
When I finally came to, he was gone. I lay in a heap on the floor, my body aching. When I looked down between my legs I could see that his kick had fortunately not struck me directly on my cunt but at the top of my thigh, which was flaw swollen and black and blue. I pulled myself up using a chair for balance and then staggered into the bathroom and looked at my face in the mirror. It was swollen, cut and bruised, and it was obvious that he had slapped me around after I'd passed out. I looked down at my chest and saw the dried blood between my tits where he had nicked me with his knife.
It never entered my mind to call the police. It seemed to me that I had deserved everything I had gotten. I
