When I headed home that night from the bar - I worked in a bar those days, even thought it was illegal because I was under aged, but only by a year- I had too wait for the drunks to all go home. They had been particularly rowdy not that they were ever particularly polite, but that night there was a certain sexuality in their mockery: fingers pitched me as I passed, feet slipped up my thighs, hands tried to reach into my pants.

I usually received a lot of attention from the patrons, that was why I was so careful walking back home. I blamed it on the shirt I had picked out of the garbage that day. It was a woman’s shirt, a lovely white silk thing, silk being very rare and expensive in this area of town: someone must have not known it value, throwing it away simply because of a small blood stain. It had occurred to me when I picked it up and put it on over my tattered cotton shirt that someone had probably died wearing this shirt and it was discarded because the murderer needed to get rid of the evidence. It didn’t matter; the shirt now belonged to me and I hid the cotton one.

Maybe it was because of that shirt that not a block away from the bar, a man called out to me. “What a pretty little thing to be wandering out at this late hour.”

I looked over at the man whom I did not recognize. He had something wrong with one of his eyes and his shirt was ripped over his left shoulder. I addressed him and not the collection of other men that I was afraid to look at. “Please, sir. I have no money, honest. Not a dollar on me. I wouldn’t be worth the effort of attack.”

“I think you might,” One of his fellows stepped forward. “Awfully pretty little thing.”

“As I said,” The first repeated and pulled out a lanky knife. “To pretty to be wandering unescorted, wouldn’t you say, mates?”

I felt like I was going to be sick, but like a frightened mouse I didn’t make any sudden moves to provoke the cats prowling around me. They began to walk with me, and spoke to me in soft gentle tones, a group of six, and when the man with the ripped sleeve asked where I lived, I lied and said it was farther.

I was planning on making a run for it when we passed the small apartment I convinced them I shared with my aging mother, but the men who had formed a circle around me were only willing to play cat and mouse for so long.

One placed his hand on the back of my neck and I tensed with terror, the moment had come. “Why don’t we take a short cut, little lovely?”

I wasn’t about to play naïve any more but I couldn’t run with the six of them in a circle around me. The one with his hand onmy neck steered me towards the alley and I gulped knowing I was going to be beaten within an inch of my life and have my clothes stolen. It would have been nice to be able to afford a weapon. I was too poor to even have more than one knife.

It would not have been the first time I was mugged so I knew how to act. Not scream too loudly, not fight to hard, if you make your whole body limp it feels like it hurts less, and when they give you a chance, curl up your body and protect your stomach.

Only tonight something was different. Rather than kicking me at once to the ground when we were out of the light, the one with the ripped sleeve pushed me into one of his fellows and at once his arms circled my waist, fisting over my stomach. I was surprised enough that one of the other men laughed at me. “I think our little friend really thought we were serious.”

“Let’s have a feel of those little nibs you’re hiding, love,” One of their hands began to grope up beneath my shirt.

“What are you…” I resisted in earnest then, breaking out of the man’s lewd embrace and realizing that the hard thing I felt rubbing against my back was not a weapon. “Let me go!”

My reward for freedom was to be pushed spiraling into a different man, a larger man, who at once gripped me back the back on my neck and crushed his huge lips down into mine. I shrieked with disgust and tried to get away, but as he continued to hold me, my resistance faded into stunned terror. His hand reached down into my upper thighs, squeezing, and when he pulled back mercifully allowing me to breathe, he sneered at me. “I’m gonna enjoy this sweet ass.”

“No… please. Please don’t,” I broke down instantly into tears realizing they wanted more from me than the money I didn’t have. I should have fought more, screamed louder but all I could do was moan in my misery.

Another man, one whose face I had not seen yet leaned up against me and began to rub his pelvis against mine from behind. They were all laughing, cackling cruel and indecent mockeries and I sobbed as the man began to pinch my inverted stomach. “Lovely, lovely smooth lassie, this is."

He fisted his hands and pulled me away from the tall man in front of me and back into his body. I frantically tossed my head back and forth to avoid his onslaught as he began to lick and chew at my neck. The man in front of me grabbed my kicking legs and pulled me into the air, nestling his thick pelvis in between my legs.

I screamed, high pitched but not loudly as he began to thump his thick body against mine, the only thing saving me from the full force of his erection was two thin layers of clothes. I knew I was going to be raped; that layer of clothing would vanish like with some little whore walking the street at night, and these men were going to rape me. I’d heard of it happening; I’d never realized I would be a candidate for such an attack… not at twenty years old. The man with the torn sleeve looked on with a knowing grin, his good eye fixed on me and the other seemed more focused on the wall around him.

One of the other men, there were so many, so anonymous, cackled, “Let me have a taste of our sweet little trollop.”

“I’m not…” I protected, still writhing weakly. “Please, let me go… I’ll go home and get money for you… just please, let me go…”

They weren’t listening to me, and the newest one was reaching up my shirt. “Yes, let’s help you out of these clothes…what the hell?”

His hands were sliding over my nipples and I winced when he pulled his hands away and took the liberty of tearing my new shirt down the center. “This is boy!”

I had time to take a deep gasp, because it had not occurred to me that they didn’t know. I was dropped unceremoniously to the ground and I would have scrambled to me feet and run only the one who had discovered my sex was still in my way. I looked up to them in terror and hope. Maybe this would only be a mugging after all.

The tallest man reached down and pulled me up, his lips curling as he realized it was a male he had kissed. “Fucking hell, Jones. What are you doing wasting our time scanning for little boys?”

Jones was the man with the lazy eye. The lazy was focused on me and the good one was looking at the speaker. “He had me confused as the rest of you.”

“To hell you did… Can’t believe we scoped a boy,” The man who had discovered me stepped to a side and I took instant advantage of my new route, scrambling onto my feet and ran as fast as I could to get away from them.

The man who had kissed me was having none of that and grabbed me by my torn shirt and pulled me back. I fell on my back and into the wall, my head crashing brutally against the stone. He fisted about in my pockets and I stayed perfectly still allowing him to search for the money I didn’t have. He growled when he found nothing and delivered a heavey kick to my torso, “Worthless boy.”

They wandered back into the street and I remained where I was, clutching my body and gasping for breath for he’d badly hurt one of my ribs. The man with the ripped shirt hesitated and stared at me a moment longer, but it was only his bad eye that was looking at me… I think.

I waited for too long, catching my breath and not stirring until my mind returned to my abused body. Eventually, I was able to stand and brush the garbage off my chest. I tied the ends of the silk shirt together and felt a gush of relief that I was almost completely undamaged. The relief did not last long.

When I stepped out of the alleyway, the only thing I saw was the red of his shirt. I didn’t even hesitate, turning in the direction of my house and running as fast as I could.

I might have escaped him. I was younger, I was desperate, but I had also been the recipient of a massive blow to the side of my chest it made it nearly impossible to run. After a while and I darted towards the nearest building and tried to open the door. When it was locked I began to knock frantically, looking over my shoulder to the man launching after me.

He reached me before the door opened. In fact, the door never opened. Several windows flew open and their occupants leaned a bit out, but no one did anything to stop the man grabbing me by my mouth and pulling me into a dark alley as I struggled. I don’t know why; maybe they thought I was a whore because of the way the shirt was tied about my chest. Maybe they just didn’t care. It never occurred to me to actually scream with all my might. If I had maybe the people in the apartment would have helped me…

I stopped squirming so hard and fell into a state of weepy submission when he pressed a knife hard into my back, pushing the tip inside of my skin. He growled in my ear. “Now, now, my little lovely, there’s no reason to get all excited. I just want to finish what I and my boys started.”

“Please,” I resisted. “Don’t. I never did a thing to you. I… please stop.”

He had reached down into my trousers and had fisted his hand around my limp organ. He squeezed tight and I more than winced at the pain. “You go right on begging, my dear. I enjoy vocal lovers.”

“No…”I writhed away, unable to prevent the whimper struggling from my throat as he stabbed me again, the same shallow prick in my back.

He pulled the silk away from me, untying it and pulling it from my arms. “Pretty shirt on a pretty boy… Shame those brutes cut it. See, I wouldn’t have cut it… I won’t cut you either if you’re good to me, my dear.”

It was awkward for him, removing my clothes and still threatening me with that knife. I managed to squirm away and I bolted into the darkness of the alley away from him.

My attacker laughed thrilled by the meek struggle I was putting up. I should have been screaming… instead I ran to the end of the alley and found nothing but a stone wall. I fell against it weeping at the inescapable situation and I panicked when the man, slithered nearer, his good eye intense on me, the knife bleeding in his hand.

“Now, don’t be too skittish, my little love,” He brandished the blade. “I’ll have to cut you deeper next time,”

I could not breath my heart was beating to fast to allow oxygen to enter my lungs. I looked around me desperate for escape, and he only growled closer, slicing out of his shirt. I remained frozen to the spot until he came closer enough to grab my hair and push me to my knees. I stared at the dirty floor, watering it with my tears, too terrified to anticipate his desires.

When his hard erection slapped against the side of my face, I jolted away in disgust, not expecting the gesture. “Stop, please… Let me go…”

He held my face up towards him, thick member and pressed the knife against my throat. “Open your mouth, boy, and if you bit me I’ll kill you. As it is, I might only seriously maim you,”

I gasped up at him begging for mercy that he was incapable to giving. I yielded to his request when the knife slowly began to cut and opened my mouth.

“Suck it,” He put It into my mouth and I moaned with displeasure. I didn’t think of the taste, unable to meditate on anything but the slime dripping into my mouth and the sickening hard thing pushing down my throat. It was humiliating and difficult to breath, I could barely suck in enough air because I was crying and now I had this thing shoved… I couldn’t stop crying.

The knife had slipped along to my ear and he was stoking my head with the blunt end of it as he forcefully rammed the thing into me. “That’s right… that’s a sweet little whore.”

I wanted to spit it out and protest but I didn’t think I could form words by that time, only whimper and moan with my serene unhappiness.

“Nice little ass you have too, boy. Is it a virgin ass, my dear?” He pulled me off his throbbing organ so he could yank my head back and look at my face.

I realized at length he wanted a response. I gulped and nodded, trying to collect myself and saying. “Please, I just want to go home.”

“And so you will,” I shrieked as he pulled me up by my hair, he threw me against one of the walls, his body following and pinning me to the coarse brick. He rumbled his pelvis against me his naked flesh staining my trousers. “Once I finish with you.”

He tugged definitively at my trousers and they fell to the ground about my ankles. I hit my forehead against the bricks and begged him to stop. He did not approve of my underwear.

“This ain’t as nice as the shirt,” I held still as the knife ate its way through my underwear, pulling apart the fabric and baring my body to him. "Don't you know only whore's wear under garments?"

I weakly tore around trying to break out of his hold and free myself from my attacker. The knife pierced me again, puncturing my upper thigh and making me scream.

Whimpers and moans tumbled from my throat when the sharp blade dragged higher and tickled at the entrance to me body. “Do you want me to stab you again, boy? Stop fighting.”

I obeyed at once, crying into my hands as he pressed me firmer against the brick. His fingers followed the path of the knife but he did nothing to prepare me for his intrusion. He just stabbed me again… no knife this time.

It hurt more than the knife and the scream that tore from my throat earned another knife wound. He grumbled in my ear the knife, pressed now against my chest, creating a bloody imprint and threatening to puncture my skin again. “Sweet, little lovely. Wonderful, little lovely. You enjoy singing to me, eh? Such a nice tight ass.”

I whimpered into the darkness as he murmured the vague obscenities, words bordering on romance, and a tone that was sickeningly loving even as he tore by body to pieces with his rape. I cried until my eyes were dry from the salt of my tears and I had no voice to speak when he polluted the inside of my body with his powerful eruption.

For a moment, he sagged over me, our bodies still unhappily joined, convulsing with my sobs.

One last plaintive moan broke from the prison of my chest when he pulled me away from the wall and lifted the knife to my throat. “Now you know what you’re going to do for me, my little lovely?”

He reached down and pulled my trousers back onto my body. Blood joined the garbage, tears, and cum staining them. He wrapped an arm tight about my chest and titled my head back to his shoulder, where he pressed his tick lips against the side of my mouth. “We’re going back to you’re house, where you’re gonna get me all the money and valuables you own, and then I’m gonna fuck you properly on your bed.”

“But… my mother…” I resisted as he turned me towards the light of the street and shuffled me along.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw a tall form blocking the entrance. My heart swelled more with fear and hatred as I realized that someone had just watched my violation. I wondered if he had enjoyed it… if he planned on enjoying me…

“Step away from the boy,” He had one of those strikingly noble voices; he was a bit late to save me though. “I have a gun and I’m not afraid of scum like you.”

I changed my mind about the quality of his voice at once. It was noble, but the man behind it was not a noble figure. His face, though handsome, was not the stern set of nobility. He looked lordly but at the same time roguish, and a snarl of disgust played on his light features as if something had misguided him and he was offended by it.

Jones stood away from me, releasing me and putting his hands into the air. “Now, now, I didn’t mean any harm. Let a chap go.”

He lightly nudged me with his foot. “Just some strumpet from the corner. I was about to give him his dues.”

“I’m not a whore,” I breathed blood. My avoidance of prostitution and crime was the reason I was so poor; even beaten and raped I would not allow that achievement to be undermined.

I heard the man draw back the hammer of his gun and wondered vaguely which of us he was aiming for. I didn’t care anymore. Even if I really did have a mother, she would have wished I was dead as much as I did at that moment.

“Are you going to take legal action against this man for attacking and molesting you, boy?” I realized the gun was on my attacker, who was rapidly speaking, babbling his excuse and talking of how I had incited him into violence, how I had persuaded him I was a whore, begging forgiveness for his mistake if it was a mistake.

It occurred to me that this man was a police officer. Though I’d never met one of those after dark myself, I assumed they existed in the night. Perhaps he was supposed to protect me.

I looked over at the man who had raped me, so pathetic and stupid looking in the night. I did not want to see him arrested though. Maybe he really did think I was a whore. “No… don’t bother arresting him, sir. It’s not worth your time,”

“If I were a cop, I’d agree with you,” I jumped away when I heard him fire the gun and I gasped with terror when his body fell beside me. He did not even have a dying gasp, simply collasping into non-life. The man was murdered. I’d just seen a man die.

I turned my eyes to the man who had shot him and saw him put the gun away. He stepped closer to me and, the terror returning to pulse through me, I tried to stand and run again. My efforts failed because my body was too torn with abuse to rise, telling me to lay down and simply die. I raised my hands to protect myself from him when he leaned down and lifted me into his arms.

He cradled me like an infant and I stared at him with terror. I wanted to beg for my life, but being so near to his stern face made me realize there was no use. If he didn’t mean to hurt me, then there was not use in begging not to be hurt.

And if he was going to kill me; I was as good as dead.