by Tim Court
I kept stroking my sister's hair because I didn't know what else to do. I had thought, again, of getting up and running for help, but I was too weak and I knew that the minute I would move to get up, the man would knock me down and get me.
I felt so bad, for all I could do was sit there and watch him rape the shit out of her. I could see his whole body getting tense right before he was going to come, and he pulled out of her cunt and started to jerk himself to his orgasm. I saw his white come shooting out on my sister's back, and then, as the ejaculations started pumping with less force, the come landed on her buttocks and on her ass crack.
You should have heard him moaning. He was so animalistic that I thought he wasn't human at all. He whipped his cock against her ass a few times as he squeezed it to get the last drops of come out. Then he just pushed her forward so she was lying flush against the floor, and started on me.
"Come on, we need a refill," he said, standing up and pulling my arm with one hand while his other hand reached for the enema bag.
It was only then, as my sister rolled over, looking like she was in terrible pain, that I noticed the way he had tied her hands together at the wrists. She looked at me with pained eyes as he dragged me off to the kitchen.
I didn't try to fight him, for I thought that my sister would try to call for help, now that she was left alone in the living room. Of course, she couldn't do that because he had pulled the phone from the jack. Besides, she could hardly even move. After he was finished with me and had left, I ran into the living room and saw my sister lying on the rug, rocking back and forth, moaning in her own shit. She had held the enema in during the fuck, but had let everything leak out once he was gone.
When I was alone with him in the kitchen, and he was filling the orange enema bag, I thought of trying to reason with him.
"Please, why do you want to do this?" I asked.
"Shut up," he said to me, then slapped me again.
I watched the rubber enema bag expand to almost twice its thickness as he let it fill with water. I knew he was going to expect me to take the whole thing in, even though I didn't think I would ever be able to do it.
While he was filling up the bag, he pushed me on my knees and demanded that I start sucking his cock. I could see my sister's virgin blood on his flaccid dick and my stomach started to churn. I turned my head away, and he pulled me by the hair, then shoved his limp dick right against my mouth.
"Open your fucking mouth before I break your jaw," he said.
I could taste the blood as soon as his dick was in my mouth, and I licked most of it off fast so that I wouldn't have to taste it for too long. I kept sucking and sucking, thinking that the faster I brought him off, the faster it would all be over.
The only thing was, he wasn't getting hard at all. His dick remained flaccid throughout my sucking, which wasn't too long.
He only had me suck him until he had taken the enema bag away from the water tap. Then he pulled his cock out of my mouth and pushed me down to the tile kitchen floor. He rolled me over on my back and ripped at my pants and panties, yanking them down around my legs.
"I don't think I have to tie you, do I big sister?" he asked. "You seem like you're going to be a lot more cooperative than junior was."
With those words, he rammed the enema nozzle up my ass-hole. I couldn't believe how much it hurt, especially because of the force behind it. He had filled it with warm water, and as I felt it shooting into me it did relax me a little bit. The only thing was, I never thought I'd be able to hold it in. Even as it was rushing inside of my ass-hole, I couldn't help but think that I was ready to expel it then. I knew that the minute he took the nozzle out, I would let it all out.
I didn't think I'd be able to do anything to hold it in. The nozzle seemed to be acting as some kind of cork, also, and that cork was keeping the water in my ass.
"You'd better hold it in, you bitch," he said, threateningly.
Then he slapped his cock against my buttocks, and I could feel how hard he had gotten. Obviously, that enema did something to him to make him rock hard for it hadn't been in me for more than a minute when he slapped me with, his dick.
"Oh, yeah," he was moaning, "you're sure to be more experienced than your little sister, aren't you? Yeah, I figured that big sister had fucked her brains out with many people before. You look the type."
There were so many things that I wanted to say to him, but I couldn't say any of them without cursing him out. I kept my mouth shut for that reason. I was in bad enough condition as it was and I didn't want to do anything to fuck myself up further.
The enema filled me up fast and I felt like I was some kind of balloon. I swear, I never had to go to the bathroom so bad in my life, and as he pulled out the hose I clenched my ass muscles tight to try and keep from leaking. He stroked my buttocks and that didn't do a damn thing to help me.
"Are you wet inside?" he asked me.
"My ass is soaked," I said to him.
"I'm talking about your cunt, you stupid bitch. I know your ass is wet."
I don't know where I got the balls to say what I said next, and I'm sorry that I ever did.
I had the bruise on my cheek from the punch he gave me after I said it for three days longer than any other bruise.
"How the hell do you expect that my cunt's going to be wet?" I asked him. "Do you think your sickness is turning me on in any way?"
Then he socked me across the face. After that, he just rammed his cock into my cunt, and it was a dry run all the way. I could feel his cock skin chafing my pussy tunnel and it felt like he was ripping at my cunt skin.
I could also feel something else. He wasn't hitting my clit at all from that doggie-style position, and I was able to move my hands between my legs and do something about that.
I could feel my stiffened clit and I started to pinch it and rub it back and forth in order to make myself wet. Of course I was hitting his cock with my fingers and he must have thought that I was doing it all for that reason.
The lunkhead probably never even realized what a clit is. He probably doesn't even know how to satisfy a woman, for if he had, he surely would have known that I'd never get wet from the way he was fucking me.
Of course, I didn't think about him fucking me as I tried to masturbate myself into some kind of wet climax. I don't think that I ever would have been able to achieve anything had I thought about him fucking me. I mean, the whole thing was so disgusting and he was such a fucking brute that he wasn't turning me on at all.
And of course, it was hard to fantasize about something else when you could feel that water splashing back and forth inside of you each time his groin slapped against my ass. It was terrible.
I can honestly say that the worst part about the whole thing was the wheezing noises he was making as he fucked me. I mean, I didn't think that it was his cock. I was fantasizing that it was Norman's, of course. But each time he started to wheeze and moan, something that you wouldn't believe until you heard it, I was reminded that this bastard was fucking me.
He didn't even try to hold back, and the first time his cock started to pulsate hard in my cunt, he just kept going until he was filling me with his come. I can't say that it upset me that he didn't try to hold back. I mean, I would have preferred him to come even faster, just to get the whole thing over with. As soon as he was finished coming he just pulled his way out of me and pushed me down flat against the floor.
His two hands started to massage my fleshy white buttocks, hard, and I could feel myself beginning to drip. I really didn't care, and obviously, he didn't either, so long as the fuck was over. He spread my ass cheeks wide apart, as if he wanted to see the actual leakage of piss and shit, and everything else I had inside of me.
Then the front doorbell rang, and I glanced up at the clock. It was Norman, I knew, for it was eight-thirty and he was always precisely on time.
The doorbell ringing scared the shit out of our enema rapist, for he
just picked up his bag and ran to the back kitchen door. I looked up at him, just as he was closing his trench-coat. He smiled at me, the bastard.
"Well, kid," he said, "it was certainly nice fucking you and your sister. Remember me when this you see."
Then he held up the enema bag so I could get one last glance at it, and he was opening the back door and running out that way. I just lay there, listening to the front doorbell ringing again and again. Finally, I managed to sit up and when I did I could feel the water dripping out of my ass-hole even faster.
You're not going to believe what I did next. I knew that Norman would get upset if I didn't answer the door fast, and I wanted him inside to help me get things settled. So the first thing that I did was hop onto the sink and I just started to let everything out there. I know that shitting in a sink sounds disgusting to you because it certainly sounds disgusting to me, but I didn't have time to think about it then.
After I was empty, I ran to the front door, pulling up my pants on the way. When Norman looked at my face, he could see all the bruises. He knew that something was terribly wrong, and then he heard my sister moaning.
That was when I looked over and saw her groveling in her own shit. Norman seemed a little embarrassed to see her lying there with her legs spread and her cunt exposed, but he did help me get her to the bathroom.
We called the police later, and they were still at the house when my parents came home. By this time, we had both emptied ourselves and I had cleaned up the carpet stains as best I could. Of course, my mother was shocked that such a thing like this could happen, and that pissed me off.
For the first few minutes she stood there, incredulously, repeating herself.
"No," she was saying, "it just didn't happen. Things like this don't happen to my little girls."
I wanted to slap her. Because I know that it's her shitty attitude which is keeping my sister from getting over it. Nicole hasn't been the same since and I'm trying to help her come to grips with what happened. I really hope I can. She's so sweet and I love her so much. I want her to grow up normal.
CONCLUSION
I can only say that it's a tremendously healthy attitude that Jill is taking and her coming to grips with the incident so soon after it happened is most encouraging. I think she would have had a lot more trouble dealing with it, had her sister not been a victim as well.
I tried to explain some of the reasons certain men feel they need to inflict enemas upon struggling victims. I explained the whole power trip a man can feel, as well as the turn-on of degrading a victim.
I told Jill that I would be willing to see her sister to try and help her, but that I feel their mother should come in first. Unless her attitude changes and she keeps up with the times, she is certainly going to hinder her daughter's recovery.
This case is quite similar to one that is depicted in the new enema film "Waterpower" and I told Jill that if she saw it, it might help her understand things even more. There is one scene with two sisters, one a virgin, the other not, and their attack by an enema rapist is depicted quite brutally and. accurately.
The film is highly recommended for anyone by me, whether you're an enema enthusiast or not, for it gives new insight into the watersport.
CASE HISTORY TWO
SUBJECT: Judy B. AGE: Fourteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Judy is a pleasantly attractive girl whose looks begin to grow on you as you see more and more of her. She has long brown hair and brown eyes that actually sparkle with child-like innocence.
When she first came to see me she was wearing a short skirt and tight blouse, and it was easy for me to see that she had a completely curvaceous figure. Her dress slinked up her long brown leg as she sat, revealing the most shapely thighs.
The one thing I liked about Judy was her eagerness to talk. She didn't seem the bit hesitant about telling me about her enema experience, and I took it as a tremendously healthy sign.
Now, I just want you to know that the reason I'm so willing to talk to you is because I've heard something's supposed to happen to make you feel better about the incident when you talk to someone about it. I haven't been able to tell anyone about it for a simple reason.
It was my math teacher who did it to me.
Now I know you wanted to hear about rapes, and everything, but don't, get upset Doctor. Even though my teacher and I used to fuck each other every so often, I still consider that time with the enema a rape because I didn't want anything like that to happen at all and he just forced himself on me.
Rape is force, right? I know it is. I mean, you could even say that a man raped his own wife if he forced himself on her. I'd say so at least. For as far as I know, or as far as I believe, a rape is a forced attack.
Rudy didn't have to force himself on me the first few times. In fact, I don't even remember the actual conversation that had occurred leading up to our first fuck, but I remember coming on to him as much as he was coming on to me.
Mr. Ross, or Rudy as I've been calling him, had to be one of the best looking teachers I'd ever seen in my life. He had short brown hair and a cleft in his chin, and was also one of the youngest teachers in the school. He's only about twenty-five, and unmarried, which is something I found out the first day in his class.
It wasn't until about the third week that he asked me to come to his office. I had no idea that anything sexual would occur, although I have to admit that I had fantasized about it a hundred times.
I used to look at his crotch in class to see if I could make out any outline of a cock bulge there. Sometimes I did, and when I did that bulge kept me fascinated for the rest of the class.
Anyway, I was leaving class one day, after the third week, and he called me over and asked to see me in his office during his free period.
"What ever for?" I asked, even though I knew I would go.
"I have to talk to you about your work in class," he said.
He had only given us one test and we hadn't gotten it back at the time. Immediately, I started to think that I must have fucked up the test good. I started to think that he was going to give me this long lecture. I had no idea if I did good or not, even though I thought I knew the stuff.
I went to his office during the fifth period, rather than go to lunch. He had a small, private office, and I didn't even notice him locking the door behind me as I entered. He had a large window looking out on the track field, and since, we were three flights up, he didn't pull the shades. I'm sure he figured no one would see us, and no one ever did as far as I know.
"What do you want to talk to me about?" I asked, trying to shift my short skirt down a little because it had slid up my leg when I sat.
Mr. Ross was sitting on his desk at the time, and I couldn't help but notice that his cock looked like it was beginning to get stiffer.
"First, the test," he said to me.
"Did I fuck it up? Ooops, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that in front of you."
"Why not?" he asked, licking his lips. "Do you think I'm so prim and proper that I don't use words like that? Come on, I'm a person, too."
I laughed a little. He was the first teacher who had ever come out and told me that he was a person, too. Most teachers I've come across are on their teacher trips and if you forget who they are and don't treat them with respect and dignity, they can get really mad at you. I liked the fact that Mr. Ross wasn't like that at all.
"All right," I said. "Tell me then, did I do bad or good?"
"You did pretty well," he said to me.
"What's that mean?" I asked him.
"It means this. If I didn't doctor up your paper a little bit, you would have failed. I don't understand it, Judy. You seem to be attentive and alert in class, and I've always found you most attractive and inspiring. I thought for sure that you'd be one of my better students."
"I'm sorry if I disappointed you," I said, and I know I was flirting with him by what I said next. "But then again, it's so
metimes so hard to concentrate with the kinds of distractions you run into in your class."
"What kind?" he asked, and he .seemed very concerned.
"Well, for one thing, you're a very handsome man. Sometimes I find myself just looking at you and forgetting about everything that you're teaching. I can't help it but I like the way you look."
"Thank you," he said, and I could see his cock bulge getting even stiffer.
"Then there's that other distraction," I said to him.
"What other distraction?" he asked, smiling.
How could you go about telling your teacher that his cock was the distraction? I had no idea. Instead, I just pointed to the bulge down his left leg and then he smiled at me even more. I couldn't help but smile back.
"I see," he said. "So, my cock distracts you?"