No Consent: Sophia and the hooker

This is the rework of a self-published auto-biographical story (2008), rewritten for this blog. Names of characters have been changed.
Content warning: mental and physical abuse, misogyny.

Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in getting up every time we do.

Sophia and the hooker
April 1994

Continued from… Anger

“On the day of the party I took the afternoon off from work to make my own preparations. I knew that there would be quite a couple of women at the party and I wanted my own private party that evening. I put a mattress in the old bus next to the house. I did it in such a way that if someone got into the bus, no one would see the ‘bed’ at first glance. All that I then had to do was to find a willing woman.”
Fred was referring to an old bus that was once used for public transport and which he had bought at an auction. He used it as a storage room. The bigger part of Annie’s furniture was in it.

“My first choice that evening was the fat woman at the bar,” he continued. “I wanted her to share my secret corner with me. But, disappointment! She was willing, but had one small problem: she was in the midst of that monthly recurring mess you women have. Fran knows damn well that I don’t mind to fuck her when she menstruates, but I won’t do it with any other woman. I was horny, so I quickly looked for someone else. Just before the striptease started, I took Rosie’s sister to the bus. Yet another disappointment, because she was just as bad as Sophia was,” he said and Annie heard his hateful hearty laughter.

Fran was startled when Fred mentioned Sophia. She quickly glanced at Annie. Annie noticed this and immediately she realized why. At the single’s party Fran told her that Fran and Fred never had any sexual contact with Sophia. Obviously, this was a lie.

“Tell me more about Sophia,” Annie asked Fred, while totally ignoring his wife. Fred instantly complied with her request as he heard the irritation in her voice.
“On a farm not far from here live quite a number of less fortunate people. The name of the farm is God’s Mercy. Before we moved here,” Fred nodded in Fran’s direction, “we used to collect a lot of small things like tooth brushes, toothpaste, towels, soap, old clothes and so on and we took it to the people on that farm. It was in the time I made quite some extra money repairing televisions. Sophia’s parents asked if we could help her find a job in the city. I suggested for Sophia to live with us for an indefinite time. To pay for her living here, she helped in the household.”

Annie heard how Fran lured Sophia into their bed because Fred had urged her to do it. That way Sophia got involved in having trios with the couple. According to Fran, Sophia was sexually inexperienced, despite her being twenty years old. Inwardly Annie rolled her eyes. Fred had tried a couple of times, but he could never enter Sophia, and because of that, all sexual activity between the three of them stopped almost as quickly as it started.

And of course he doesn’t want to fuck only his wife, Annie thought. From what she saw the evening of the party, Sophia wasn’t a bright girl. With this in mind, what Annie just heard sounded like sexual abuse to her. Annie managed not to show her repulsion.

Fran was angry. Partly because Annie caught her out on a lie and partly because of Fred’s confession of what he had done on the night of the party. Carefully glancing at her husband, she started to tell a forbidden anecdote, fully expecting Fred to stop her at any moment. However, this did not happen, since Fred still wanted Annie to snap.

“In Fred’s earlier and secretive adulterous years, before he did it with my consent and under my supervision, he one night picked up a hitch-hiking whore. He told me that she wasn’t pretty, but she was available and he wanted to bang a woman. She got into the seat next to him and firmly held onto an old-fashioned handbag, which she kept on her lap. Fred drove around for a bit to try to get the whore to relax. In the meantime, he was trying to figure out where he would take the prostitute so he could have sex with her. While chatting, the woman relaxed and she put her hand on Fred’s leg. She slowly moved her hand up and down and eventually had her hand on his penis. With her other hand, she was still firmly holding the bag onto her lap, in such a manner that Fred could not get his hand on her pussy. ‘Little Fred’ was awakening due to the light strokes of the woman. Fred didn’t want to wait any longer and he quickly drove to a place where they could have some privacy. He hastily stopped the car and he started kissing her. He rubbed her back and then quickly moved to the hem of her skirt. He wasn’t about to wait too long for his award. He would have to pay for it and Fred wanted his money’s worth. With both his hands, he firmly moved her skirt up while still kissing her. His hands hurriedly moved up. Then all of a sudden, he stopped kissing her, jerked his hands away and pushed the woman as far away from him as he possibly could. Within seconds, he shoved the whore out of the car and he drove off, leaving her at the dark side of the road. I was at home, waiting for Fred to return. I didn’t know where he was and I really got a fright when he walked in. He was deathly pale and shivering all over. I demanded that he should tell me what had happened, but he refused. It was weeks, no months later when at last he dared to tell me what had happened that evening. He ended his story more or less this way: and when I wanted to touch her there, I felt a dick just as hard as my own!”

Uncontrollably, Annie started to laugh. Fred jumped up and he walked away. He was furious. His plan backfired. Instead of him making her angry, Annie was now openly laughing at him.

To be continued… Reflecting: One Month In

© Rebel’s Notes

%d bloggers like this: