Don't Do The Crime If You Can't Pay The Fine

Thanks go to my editor for this story, VampGirl1991.

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On Tuesday's, the local movie cinema has discounts on movies and popcorn. It's only $5 for the movies, except 3D, and $2 for small popcorns and small sodas. Not a bad deal. The cinema is only 7 blocks from my house, so if it's nice out I usually walk there and back home again. Tonight I met 2 friends there for a sci-fi movie around 7:30PM. I wasn't impressed with the movie, it was kind of lame.

We hang around after the movie and chit-chat for a while (we're girls, it tends to happen). We all have to work in the morning, so we say our goodbyes and head home. I walk along the main road toward home, mostly looking at the clear sky. I like this kind of night. It's a clear sky, crisp air, and all the shops are closed up for the night.

BAM!

I'm not sure what happened. It was a burst of pain on the back of my skull, a bright light shot through my eyes, and a deafening THUD that scaled down to horrendous ringing in my ears.

When I start to regain my senses, I realize I'm lying on my back, and the ground is very cold. My eyesight is hazy, but it seems darker here than it should be. This must be an alley off the street. There's someone on top of me! A wave of dread washes through me as I begin to understand that I'm in really big trouble.

I'm still disorientated, but I know that the man is pulling my sweatshirt off; I can feel it as it gets ripped off my arms and over my head. I take a breath and start to scream, hoping someone will hear me.

BAM! The man punches me in the face. He's saying something, but I can't focus enough to understand it. I feel him grab the neck of my blouse and rip it open all the way down. I take a breath to try and calm down, think, and focus. You can't do anything without thinking! My world stops again as I feel a cold, sharp point sliding down my chest. He has a knife against my skin. He slips it under my bra and pulls up, slicing my bra open.

His hands are on my breasts, squeezing hard. I remember some lessons from a self-defense course. I am not going to just lie here and let this happen. I push my hand against his chest, trying to push him off me. I notice another problem as I do this; I think the blow to my head is making me nauseous. I don't need this now. I clearly remember thinking to myself [Focus, you idiot. Take this fucker out. Stick to the training.]

As expected, the man grabs my hands and pulls them down to my side. He snarls something nasty at me. That's what I wanted him to do. Self-defense 101: pull one hand down to put him off balance, lurch up with your hips and twist until you dislodge the attacker. And it works like a charm.

I push my upper body away from him, put one leg forward and brace it against the ground, and kick him with the other. I feel my foot connect, I hear the sound of the impact, but the moment of joy I should have felt was interrupted by another wave of nausea from moving so quickly. I have to try to get up. [Get up, bitch! We aren't done yet.]

I stagger to my feet; the man is just starting to get up. I step forward and kick him again. I only get one kick in, the man rolls away and I bend over to keep from losing my popcorn. I have to take a few deep breaths. The man starts charging me; I sidestep, but not enough. He slams into my left side, as my right hand grabs at his neck. His weight is pulling me down. I land hard on my knees, more pain I didn't need right now.

The man grabs my hand and tries to get it to release his neck. So I start punching him in the face with my left hand. He does some kind of spin and I can't keep hold of him, but his nose is bleeding now. [Good girl.]

I see him grab the knife off the ground. [Oh shit! Think. Think.] My foot is resting on something; it's my sweatshirt. I grab it and stand up, wrapping it around my left hand and forearm. Not much of a shield, but it's better than nothing.

He looks really angry now, as he wipes the blood off his face. He looks me up and down. He tells me how nice my tits are and how much I would have enjoyed it, but now he's just going to have to kill me instead. [He's a dumb fucker, too. Girls don't like to be raped.]

He makes a couple slashes with the knife. I back away, trying to avoid them, one hand trying to keep the front of my blouse closed. There's not much room in the alley, and my balance isn't the greatest. [Don't let him run this. Take charge.]

I lunge forward with my wrapped left hand, pushing it toward his stomach. He takes the bait and commits to striking at the hand. [Like I said: Stupid fucker.] My hand moves to the outside, and I start my kick. My legs are my strongest asset right now. I'm going to use them every chance he gives me. He doesn't have time to stop his lunge as my foot comes up and connects with his chest. I'm slightly off center, but I hear a definitive CRACK, like a large tree branch snapping in two. [Good girl. That's gonna hurt and slow him down.]

He drops the knife. I smile a little as I hear him groan, but then he quickly charges me again. I wasn't ready this time and he hits me squarely. I feel myself falling. The pain shoots down my left arm to my elbow as my shoulder slams into the cement. I'm on my side and the man is straddling me. He starts punching me in the stomach. In a burst of speed I swing around with my right elbow, and it connects with something near his head. He falls off me, and I know I did some damage to my elbow.

The man is on his stomach, on the ground. His hands are covering his neck. I'm having real trouble breathing, but I know I can't stop. I roll over, and crawl over to him. My left arm is numb and not working very well. So I punch him in the head with my right arm. He doesn't get up or fight back. I see a lot of blood pooling in the alley under him. He's making gasping noises as he tries to breathe. I think I might have damaged or even crushed his windpipe.

I climb on his back and wrap my right arm around his neck and pull back. He grabs my forearm and starts squeezing it. I keep pulling back on his head. His finger nails start digging into my skin. [Do it. Do it. Do it.]

The man is still making gurgling sounds, and his hands are still trying to get my arm off his neck. I force my left arm to grab my other wrist. I brace my legs against the ground. I brace my stomach, and my back. I force my shoulders back. I take a deep breath, and pull. I pull with every ounce of power I have left.

His head draws back and stops. I pull for what seems like an eternity, but probably only a second or two. I dig deep and bring up one last burst of strength. There is a SNAP. The man's head goes back farther than I could even imagine. I release his head and fall off him. I smell the sharp odor of urine. I stare at him a while to make sure he isn't moving. Finally, I crawl to my sweatshirt, and search for my phone. When I find it, I call 9-1-1.

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(This is NOT a real story. I keep reading the same non-consent stories where the victim eventually enjoys getting raped. Women don't enjoy getting raped.

Reading non-consent erotica is legal, I even enjoy them. But if you want to try to replicate some of these stories in real life, just remember women are getting stronger and more independent every day. We don't like to be raped. You might be the one to end up face down in an alley.)