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A Story by Queenliz…

My eyes were still watering, and I
was trying to gather enough
wits together so I could start to
weaken him, when his next blow
hit the side of my ribs.
“Enough Richard,” I heard a
sweet familiar voice, but it only
sent a chill down my spine. What
was Tina doing here?
“Enough? Enough!?” Richard
blustered. “It will be ‘enough’
when he has paid for what he
did to you.”
I used the distraction to focus my
thoughts, and flipped his
‘bladder’ switch, and started
pushing on his ‘weak’ switch. I
had to get out of here.
Richard turned his attention back
to me, and there was no
mistaking the malice in his eyes.
“That won’t work this time,
freaky idiot.” His punch this time struck
the other side of my ribcage.
Thankfully it was weaker, though
it still hurt, and even brought an
embarrassing sob out of me.
Had my switches failed me? I
wondered through the pain that
was wracking my body. No, I
saw, I could still feel the switches,
and they HAD moved. Looking
through my pain filled eyes, I
could see that his pants were still
dry, but something seemed odd
about them.
“Hit ‘im again, Richard. Make the bastard
freak pay.” For the first time I
realized that there were others
around. John Terry, Darren bent, Jarmie vardy, Harry kane, and Dan Peters (sorry for snatching some few names from the soccer world), were
also witnessing my humiliation;
all of them on the football team,
and all friends of Richard.
“I want to hear him confess,” one
of them said, and the others
agreed.
Richard yanked the gag out of my
mouth, and I worked my mouth
painfully, my jaw throbbing. “Tell
everyone what you did to my
girlfriend. Tell them how you
raped her, and MAYBE I’ll go easy
on you.”
Molest? I hadn’t RAPED her! I
thought. Looking to Tina, I saw
that she was looking at the floor,
refusing to look at me. What had
she told them? “I didn’t–”
Richard’s right hook caught my
jaw, but it was too weak to do
me any harm than move my head, though it
still hurt where he’d struck me
originally.
“Don’t lie to us, freaky idiot. Tina, come
tell him what you told us.” Richard
looked to his girlfriend, but she
just continued to look at the
floor. “Tina?”
“Tina, tell them I didn’t do it!” I
pleaded, and I felt a switch move
as I spoke, but I couldn’t tell
what or where. I remembered
her switches and I started
moving the ‘guilt’ and ‘concern’
switches I’d made that first
night, and was relieved to feel
them move in the opposite
direction I’d done then.
“Come on, Tina. Confront your
rapist. Spit in his face, and show
him you’re not afraid of him.”

To Be Continued…

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