Tranny Tales Stories of an amateur cross-dresser's fantasies and true adventures
Forced Entry
Over the years, I've found it somewhat frustrating that at times when I want a man, they can appear very disinterested, or aloof. At other times when I might already have a date or won't have time to meet a man, one, two or even more men may be interested in me at the same time! That's being at the right place at the wrong time. True, I've had many delightful experiences of being at the right place at the right time, meeting a man and leading to great sex. But there was one time I found myself in the wrong place at the wrong time.
And, also, experience taught me that it can be fairly easy to spot a man who may be interested in me. It starts with a glance, a smile or a wink. Then, he'll approach me to chat and perhaps compliment me on my looks or say something sweet. Before I know it, I'm on my knees and between his! But, it can be pretty tricky when I don't spot a man that might be interested. They can simply appear out of nowhere, leave a note through the bartender, on my car or drive up to me when I'm getting into my car. They just might want privacy or avoid having someone notice. Or, they might have more sinister intentions. While it might be fun, interesting and adventurous, it might be very dangerous for those like me that dress up as a member of the weaker sex and very attractive to big, strong and dominant He-Men. Such was my fate one night in Houston some years ago.
It was summer and the legendary south Texas heat and humidity was even more oppressive as usual. I had a quick, two day business trip allowing for an opportunity to dress up and get out for the night. I toyed with the idea of not going out as heat and cross-dressing don't mix very well for me. But, since I was free with nothing to do for the night, I decided to give it a try. I wasn't anticipating sex. But, I elected to do an enema "just in case". When I'm dressed up, I feel more "complete" as a woman if I'm prepared for a man and I enjoy the clean feeling an enema gives me. Besides, I had two of my favorite dildos waiting for me at the motel.
As a concession to the heat, I dispensed with wearing my "trade mark" fishnet thigh tops. My legs were nicely tanned and smooth after several hours by the pool and a fresh razor! I also left my corset in the suitcase. While I simply don't have the classic "hour-glass" figure, I was very slim and looked reasonably good in just my matching pink bra and panties. A beige skirt, tightly cinched with a wide belt and well-tailored blue blouse would give me a very nice looking figure. Also, rather than one of my long thick wigs, I chose a shorter one that just reached to my shoulders hoping it would keep me cooler. I completed my dress-up with my usual accessories including a pretty blue scarf tied securely around my neck and my 4-inch pink pumps. Make-up would also be a challenge in the heat. So, I used less foundation and touch up with powder when needed.
It would be dark by the time I left the motel room. So, I didn't mind wearing my "lite" wardrobe this one time. At a distance at least I was passable and the darkness would help. Having confidence, a cute personality and a friendly disposition I was always welcomed wherever I went, at least in the gay community. I planned my visits to the usual places, friendly bars, sleazy sex shops and a restaurant that I knew would welcome me. The locations and directions were well known to me. So, after a quick check in the mirror, I jumped from my air-conditioned room, into the heat of the evening, and into my car with the air-conditioning revved up to the highest setting. I could already feel the first drops of perspiration down my back and on my top lip. I didn't care. I was just excited about another adventure "out" and again, I wasn't really on a "man hunt."
So, I engaged the usual route as I had done many times before visiting bars and enjoying the "locals" and some sex shops where I could browse through the porn and toys and maybe tease a man or two. But, for each trip I try to include at least one place that I had never been to before to add a little variety. So for my last stop, I chose a bar that I was aware of but had not visited as it was a little out of the way of my routine. It was deeper into the industrial side of town with lots vacant lots, salvage yards and road construction detours that can challenge a "woman" driver. Besides, I'd rather be in a bars and not wasting time trying to find one. After several wrong turns, I was considering going back to my motel room when I eventually found it tucked between two seedy car repair shops.
It was dimly lit, with not much signage. But, judging by the cars parked in front and on the street, it had to be the bar I was looking for as nothing else would be open at this hour. There was no place left to park in front. However, I could tell there was parking in back. I swung in to look and found one narrow place left and carefully squeezed my car in between two huge pick-ups. It was even darker in back with just some light from the adjacent buildings. I've been to dozens of bars similarly lighted and never gave much thought to my safety. Anyway, it was hot and the perspiration was increasing as I reached the side entrance.
The bar was pretty full and several of the patrons turned to look at me when I stepped through the door. I assumed they didn't get many trannies, especially in the summer and, judging from the smiles and nods, they liked what they saw making me feel very welcome. They all returned to their conversations and drinking while I ordered a beer at the bar and found one empty table with a single chair and proceeded to enjoy my brew. Oh, the beer was nice and cold. I could feel my blouse stick to my shoulders and lower back. But, the place was air conditioned and comfortable. Maybe I would dry out! So, I decided to settle in, sip a few brews and visit with some of the locals. Everyone seemed friendly and some even introduced themselves. They included me in some of their conversations and I was smart enough to show interest in the Astros! After a few beers and a few trips to the sand box, it was getting late and the crowd had thinned out considerably. So, I dug into my purse for my car keys, said my goodbyes and headed to the door. As I left I was thinking how enjoyable this visit was and, in spite of being out of the way, it would be fun to visit again.
As I left, the heat hit me like a hot, wet towel! As I thought about my cool motel room I turned the corner to the back of the bar and realized that I couldn't see my car in the dim light. It was behind a large Suburban that was, for some strange reason, parked close to the driver's side of my car. I pressed my unlock button hearing the familiar and welcome "beep" in response. I walked between the cars from the front and turned to open the door when I heard footsteps come up behind me. An arm reached around my neck holding me securely while a hand covered my mouth. "Don't scream or struggle and you won't be hurt!" a deep voice whispered in my ear. I nodded yes, the arm released me and, with the hand still on my mouth, he opened the passenger side door of the Suburban. "Get in" he said firmly and pushed me inside. He got in behind me shoving me over to the driver's side. His left hand was behind my back with his hand firmly gripping my scarf and keeping me from moving. His right arm was holding a knife against my tummy.
"Drive" he ordered. The keys were in the ignition, the seat belt was engaged behind me. "Do as you're told, bitch and you'll be ok". My heart was pounding from fear as I started the car, shifted into drive and rolled out of the parking lot. The air-conditioning was set on high and was almost too high. The cold air was blowing under my skirt and I could feel my nipples stiffen even under my bra. The radio was playing country music. I could see my car fade into the dim light from the passenger side mirror. "Turn left" he said and I complied. The light turned red at the next intersection and I pulled to a stop. I stared ahead, too scared to look directly at him. The windows were tinted. But if anyone could see us, we would appear to be just another couple on a date. I dared not to look at him. But, from what I could see peripherally, he appeared to be a big man, slightly heavy, with big hairy arms, the kind of man that I would ordinarily find attractive. He wore a t-shirt and running shorts. I didn't recognize him as anyone I remembered from the bar. But, he must have noticed me, left the bar and waited for me.
It seemed like an eternity for the light to turn green. But, finally, it did and I proceeded down the road. His hold on my scarf relaxed a bit. "You're doing just fine, bitch!" Keep going straight. After the next light I summoned the courage to ask "what do you want? I don't have much cash." The grip tightened again as though I angered him by speaking. He responded in a firm and clear voice, "I don't want your cash, I'm going to rape you, whore." I gasped, my mind raced with thoughts of being raped, beaten and possibly killed. "If you try to escape, I'll kill you and no one will ever find your body. People disappear all the time and you'll be just another one for the statistics". To this, I asked "why me?" "Shut up, tramp, and just do as you're told".
We drove on in silence allowing me to collect my thoughts. I often wondered what I would do if I faced the prospect of being raped. I dated a girl many years ago who told me that if she were going to be raped and possibly beaten or worse, the best option would be to relax and let it happen and perhaps even pretend to enjoy it. Her theory was that if the rapist met with a "passive" victim, he might be inclined to be less violent and let her go. I wasn't sure as to the plausibility of her theory. But, now that I found myself in such a predicament, it seemed to be a very reasonable thing to do. Of course, there was no guessing what he intended to do ~ after!
Suddenly, a strong tug on my scarf jolted me from my thoughts. "Turn right here," he said. I slowed down to make the turn. "We're almost there, turn off the head lights". I obeyed as he instructed me to make a few more turns in what appeared to be a salvage yard. There were no gates, just a long drive through dark mountains of unidentifiable auto wrecks. "Stop here", he said, "but leave the engine running." I did as instructed realizing this could be the end of me, my life and all that I knew. I turned to him saying "I'll cooperate. Please don't hurt me." "I'm going to do whatever I want with you. If you cooperate, I'll let you go." With that, he yanked my scarf pulling me against the driver's side door attempting to kiss me. His breath was hot and smelled of whiskey and cigarettes. I turned my face away. He slapped me. He put the knife down on the floorboard and grabbed my face with his right hand forcing me to accept his kiss.
I struggled and squirmed as he kissed me forcing his tongue into my mouth. I tried to clench my teeth resisting his tongue. This only aroused him still further and he slapped me across the face. "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you, you worthless piece of sissy shit!" With his left hand still firmly holding me down by my scarf, his right hand pulled my skirt up and reached between my legs squeezing my "girl dick" and balls. I screamed from the pain. "Scream all you want, cunt. There's no one out here to hear you." His right hand then proceeded to yank my panties down and then he thrust two beefy fingers through my sphincter and into my rectum. With no lubrication, it really hurt and I screamed again. At least I was clean and there was a little "natural" lubrication in my rectum which leaked out as his fingers withdrew. He next put the same fingers against my lips. "Lick them, cunt!" he said and I obeyed. "You're going to get a nice ride, tonight fuck hole!" he added.
He yanked me up by pulling against my scarf, opened the passenger side door and pulled me outside and over to the rear of the Suburban. "If you need to piss, do it!" he ordered. I was glad to be rid of some more beer so I squatted to pee watching my urine sink into the dark dirty gravel. As I peed, he pulled out a dog leash and fastened around my scarf. He popped the hatch open saying "Get in!" He pulled on the leash hoisting me up and shoved me inside. The back seats were down which left enough space for us both to lie flat. There were some blankets and pillows for some degree of comfort. It was obvious that he had this planned in advance. He got in behind me and removed his t-shirt and shorts. He took the other end of the leash and tied it to the door handle leaving a few feet of length. He then pulled out a bungee cord, and tied my wrists securely hooking the ends to the headrest on the driver's seat. With him straddling me, holding my legs down, I was effectively immobilized and totally at his mercy!
As my eyes adjusted to what little light there was from the dashboard, I managed to get a look at my assailant. He was large, bald, with big arms and very hairy. I could feel his sweat dripping on me as he sat on top of me to resume kissing me hard on my lips and biting my breasts above my bra. Even with the air-conditioner running, it was so hot and sticky with this man on top of me! He proceeded to yank my blouse out of my skirt, pulling it apart and then pushed my bra up such that he could lick and bite my nipples. He bit so hard that I screamed again and his right arm slapped me again. "Shut up you fucking tramp slut!" As he continued to bite my breasts and nipples he continued to hold me down as his right hand reached down to yank my panties completely off. Again he inserted his fingers into me, twisting, probing and pinching me. I tried to push away but he was so big and heavy. Pulling on the leash and bungee cord only made them tighter around my neck and wrists. I was his to abuse, to take and rape and there was nothing I could do but take what he had planned for me. As if to remember his attack, he took several pictures of me from several different angles. The flash from his phone camera temporarily blinding me.
It was then I remembered the girl's comment about accepting it, letting it happen and hoping for the best. So, I relaxed. He seemed to sense that I was going to accept my fate as he continued kissing me, biting my lips, my neck, my breasts and nipples while finger fucking me. I could feel his dick against my tummy, already hard and wet with sweat and pre-cum. He spit in his hand to lube my ass, lifted me up to line his dick up against my hole and plunged it into me. He was big and thick and the pain from the shock of his sudden entry was so intense that I almost blacked out. He put my legs up over his shoulders and proceeded to fuck me harder and harder. Perhaps he was sexually frustrated, angry at the world, or perhaps he was homophobic or, as with some homophobes, maybe he was homosexual and hated himself and others that were. At any rate, whatever frustration he had, he was taking it out on me and my "boy pussy" and it hurt, and it was steamy, and it was miserable! I was scared that once he was finished cumming he would be finished with me. It didn't take long. I heard the familiar moaning and groaning sound a man about to reach orgasm makes and with several violent thrusts banging my head against the back of the driver's seat, he let loose, shooting his cum deep inside me.
Oh, but he wasn't finished. He proceeded to fuck me, to rape me, three more times in quick succession. After each orgasm, he would pause for a cigarette, take a nip from a bottle and then start kissing, biting and fingering me again. Each time, he would shove those fingers in my mouth telling me to lick them. Only now they tasted of his cum our sweat and my blood. He would again straddle me with his dick in my face forcing me to suck it until it was hard once more. Each time he took more pictures. Oh, his appetite for sex seemed to be insatiable. Each time seemed to be as intense as the first only it took him longer to cum. By the third time, my neck ached from the leash and I could barely feel my hands from the loss of circulation. The pain from his abuse was so intense that I drifted in and out of consciousness.
He waited for me as I slowly regained my senses, and then reached for his knife. I closed my eyes thinking he was going to kill me now. Instead, I felt the knife slice through the bungee cord above the knot securing my wrists releasing me from being secured to the headrest. I watched as he put the knife away and breathed easier. "Turn over on your tummy," he ordered and I obeyed eager for a change in position. This time he spread my legs wide picked me up by the hips, lined his dick up against my bruised and bleeding pussy and proceeded to fuck me for the fourth time! Each time, he banged into me my head would bang against the back of the driver's side seat. With his dick firmly planted in my ass, he let go of my hips and grabbed my breasts and pinched my nipples which were now numb from his continuous torment. He then got on top of me, this big, hard, sweaty and sticky man, his hot breath against the back of my neck, nibbling my ears and biting me on the shoulders. The blankets under me were of little comfort with him on top of me. At this point, I was ready for him to kill me and just get it over with. He continued to hump away at me and I finally summoned the courage to scream "please stop, oh, please stop!" to which he laughed saying "I thought you liked getting fucked, bitch!" With several more thrusts, the all familiar moan and groan signaled his orgasm. As he climaxed he bit me hard on the neck leaving yet one more mark on me. But, he had one more mark to make.
With my face buried in a pillow and still secured by the leash, I could hear him rummaging around and then I smelled propane and saw a flickering light behind me. After several minutes, he mounted me once more holding my legs down with his massive bulk. "Hold still" he said and with that, I felt an intense, searing pain on the lower side of my left buttock. I screamed as this son of a bitch branded me! It stung like crazy and the smell of burning flesh, my burning flesh, filled the confines of the Suburban. The pain finally subsided and my thoughts centered on this guy being a serial rapist and killer and branding his victims to tease the police! Yes, he took a picture of the brand, turned me over and showed it to me saying "you'll forever be my property fuck cunt!" My ass was bruised from the pounding it took. But, I could make out just where my ass and upper thigh met were the letters "J-B". I generally don't cry. But, I couldn't hold back my tears. As I cried, my sphincter relaxed releasing a puddle of his cum underneath me. I was just overwhelmed and sobbed and didn't care if he was going to kill me, beat me or leave me stranded there.
He quietly dressed, untied my leash from the door handle, opened the back hatch and climbed out. He then yanked on the leash indicating that I was to emerge behind him. He kept my hands tied and I assumed he was going to stab me to death and hide my body amid all the auto debris. Instead, he led me back to the passenger side, opened the door, and with my hands still bound, helped me climb in. I let out a loud "ouch" as my freshly branded ass came into contact with the seat cushion. He laughed as he fastened my seat belt and tied the end of the leash to the door handle. He went around to the driver's side, climbed in and put the truck in gear. My thoughts were racing....where was he taking me now? But, I decided to remain quiet and assume what little composure I had left.
My understanding of the geography with that part of Houston was clouded and confused. It wasn't until a few miles later that I realized that he might be taking me back to the bar. Sure enough, there it was on the right. Of course, it had long since closed. He turned in and drove around to my car. He got out and came over to my side of the car. Again, he took out his knife. But this time, he cut the bungee cord freeing my wrists, unhooked the leash from my scarf and gave me my purse and shoes. "Don't tell me that tonight wasn't anything that you haven't thought of dreamed of and wanted, cuz I know better! You fuck sluts are all alike. You wanted this, you needed this. And, if you try to come after me accusing me of rape, you'll be the biggest joke there ever was." With that, he jumped into the Suburban and drove off leaving me leaning against my car.
I was so glad to have survived. I opened the car, got in and just sat there, careful not to put too much pressure on my branded butt. I felt lots of different emotions: fear, anger, hopelessness and sadness! I could have been raped and murdered. Instead I was just raped. I surrendered my body to another man that I've done hundreds of times with other men. The one glaring difference was that tonight wasn't consensual, or was it consensual? If it were "play rape", I would have enjoyed it with the obvious exception of the J-B brand! While I contemplated whether I would press charges, I cleaned up as best I could. My panties were somewhere in the Suburban which was now long gone. I re-adjusted my bra and tucked what was left of my blouse back inside my skirt. I didn't dare look in the mirror as my face would be an absolute mess. Instead, I wiped off the make-up as best I could with some fast food napkins stashed in the glove compartment.
I felt composed enough to start my car and slowly and carefully drove back to my motel. Once inside, I stripped down in the bathroom and inspected my body in the mirror. As I feared, my breasts were bruised and scraped, my nipples had been bleeding but the bleeding had stopped. My pussy was badly bruised with some bleeding. I wasn't going to be doing any enemas any time soon! But, the most painful wound was the brand. I removed the last traces of my make-up and took a long, warm bath hoping my mind would be clear enough to make a sound judgement on whether to pursue rape charges in the morning.
I slept well enough but I was still confused as to what I should do. I could still hear his voice telling me that my claim of rape would "be the biggest joke there ever was." I hated thinking that he might be right. I would have to press charges and submit myself to a medical examination including a rape kit. They would swab my rectum for traces of his cum for evidence. But, what case would I have, a transvestite with a sordid history of having sex with men, many men. Why that's what transvestites like to do, right? I could hear his defense attorney tear into my motives for dressing like a woman, my sexual behavior and my secret life. My family would leave me. My career would be ruined. It was then that I realized why so many rapes go unrecorded by both men and women. The ordeal of proving I was raped would be like being raped all over again. Only this time it would be by the legal system. Right or wrong, I decided to just go home. I discarded the bra, blouse and skirt, packed my other things and left for the airport.
My rape would haunt me for many years. While my legs and ass are my best selling points, I started dressing a little more conservatively and was much more careful when going out. I was also much more vigilant with my surroundings and usually had a friend "on call" who knew I would be out and someone I could check in with. In retrospect, I realized that I actually enjoyed at least some of the experience. There was something darkly exotic about being held captive to a man, someone stronger, who could kill me or fuck me as he wished. And, I had a constant physical reminder! Over the years each time I had sex with a new man, he would ask the inevitable question while fucking my ass ~ "who the hell is J-B?"
Greetings All!
While my tranny name is Tricia Louise i go by Timi these days. If You got this far, i hope you enjoyed my story. While i'm a little more into "retirement" these days, i still enjoy "femming up" a little and visiting friends, bars and sex shops occasionally.
Sweett53@zohomail.com
I'm married. But, I have nice Daddy friends who enjoy my services. I do enjoy corresponding with Men who appreciate us along with other like-minded "demigirls". You'll find me very responsive, caring, and friendly. I love swapping photos and stories and enjoy writing about my adventures, thoughts, feelings and fantasies.
Please be safe!
Love, Tricia/Timi