Chapter 11

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Martina lay on the floor, unconscious for less than a minute before a strong musky odor stung her nose, reviving her.

Opening her eyes she realized she was flat on her back with Barry now straddling her head, his crotch in her face.

Her teeth were together but his penis was out of his pants and the tip was between her lips. He was rhythmically thrusting, trying to get all the way into her mouth.

"Come on. Open up, Bitch, " he yelled in frustration.

Disgusted, angry, and still disoriented, Martina tried to push him off of her, but could not. He had her arms pinned down with his knees.

She struggled and fought, wiggling left and right as best she could, but the most she could do was disrupt his rhythm. This served to piss him off and he slapped her on the side of the head.

Anger, fear, and panic consumed Martina. She knew she didn't want to be here and she had to get out. Suddenly she had a thought, a way to get him off of her and also make sure he would probably never do this to her or anyone else ever again.

She immediately put her plan into action and opened her mouth, forming a tight 'O' to allow him to get his penis in. As soon as the tip passed her teeth, she bit down . . . hard. Actually harder than she meant to.

She meant to only cause him pain, severe pain, but in the panic of the moment, the pressure she applied would have severed a carrot in half. Her teeth went most of the way through his penis, leaving it dangling. It was still attached but only by the urethra.

Barry immediately fell off of Martina, onto his side, screaming, cursing, and holding himself with both hands.

Tears began to pour from Barry's eyes and there was blood, lots of blood, on and in Martina's mouth along with a puddle forming on the floor around Barry's crotch.

In shock over what she had just done, Martina ran to the bathroom.

It was at this moment the full realization of what had happened hit her.

Her knees buckled and she hit the floor. Landing on her bottom, she slid back, and propped herself against the side of the bathtub.

Hyperventilating, she also began to bawl as the weight of it all came crashing down around her.

"I've been raped . . . Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, oh my gawd," Martina repeated aloud, over and over for several long moments, while rocking back and forth.

Eventually, she stopped rocking when a thought occurred to her.

Oh my gawd, I think it's him, the town rapist that's been in the news. It's got to be, his other three victims were penetrated orally, just like he did to me. If he was able to do that to me so easily, I wonder how many other girls he has and would have continued to do that to?

". . . You son of a bitch," she screamed out. "At least you won't ever do it again . . ."

But, was that entirely too cruel?

At that moment she stopped hearing him moan and wail in pain.

He must have passed out, she thought.

She headed to the bathroom, thinking about a news article she had read a few months ago about a guy in India that had his penis completely cut off by a jealous girlfriend.

Because it was a clean cut, and they got it on ice pretty quick, they were able to reattach it, nerves and all and make it fully functional again.

She smiled through the tears still streaming from her eyes. But the difference here is that it's messy and jagged and probably won't get iced soon enough. Maybe it'll turn black and all the tissue will be dead by the time he gets medical attention.

Martina reached the edge of the sink, turned the water on, and began rinsing her mouth out repeatedly, trying to get rid of the taste of sweaty, unwashed cock, and blood.

She looked up at the mirror and saw her reflection. She couldn't bear to look herself in the eyes. She quickly looked back down, continuing to clean the remaining blood from her mouth and chin.

Martina glanced back up. Satisfied that her face was clean, she cleaned her hands and then headed to Barry's sister's room where she changed into the first thing she saw when she opened the closet; a sleeveless, body-hugging, mid-thigh length, shimmering, silver/black dress with a beautiful, bold, shimmering rainbow colored sash around the waist.

Tossing the blood-stained shorts and top in a clothes hamper, she headed back out to the living room.

From there she found a pen and a pad, then took her time scribbling a note in her best attempt at girly handwriting.

He knocked me out then forced himself into my mouth. There was no consent, implied or otherwise. When I came to I was being raped. My first reaction to having him force himself down my throat was to bite down in self-defense. I hope he spends a lot of time in jail for what he's done.

Martina returned to the laundry room and tossed the note at Barry's feet.

After using Barry's cell phone to call for an ambulance, Martina grabbed the open soju bottle from a table next to the washer. She took a long drink, then emptied the rest of the contents all over Barry, tossing the bottle down next to him. She hoped the cops would smell the alcohol all over his under-age body.

She then attempted to get her mom's damp dress from the washer, which was now on the dry cycle. The door was locked so she tugged on it harder. She tugged on it over and over until the lock finally snapped and the door swung open.

Retrieving the dress, she placed it in a plastic bag which she then put in her purse. She slipped her feet back into her mom's high-heeled ankle boots and slipped out the back door just as an ambulance arrived out front.

Scaling the chain-link fence that separated Barry's backyard from the neighbors on the next street, Martina made her way around that house and up the street, running as fast as she could in heels.

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