Believing that confidence can only develop through experience, I began to break out of my closet by taking my assumed feminine persona on short excursions in my car. The next step was leaving my car to walk in parks and along beaches in places where I was less likely to be recognised. Just to feel the wind on my legs and knowing that it could lift my skirt and excite a male obsever was worth the risk of being read. Blending with the crowds in shopping malls in distant suburbs has been my latest accomplishment. Blessed with a size twelve torso and standing a mere five feet seven inches in courts, extending the illusion into the mall's walkways and foodcourts has initiated no major dramas. 'Dress to your age' is what the experts advised. Pretty lace trimmed blouses matched with just above the knee skirts is my style. Nobody suspects that the breasts that bulge so seductively from within my blouses are nothing more than lumps of silicone filling the cups of a bra fitted to my flat chest. Nor suspect that a beautiful circumcised penis and pair of very cute shaved, crinkle textured testicles are packed into the front panel of my panties. Creating illusions is fun enough, but knowing that people have been duped is the realisation of a life long dream.
However, conveniences in malls are far from convenient for a woman with a penis in her panties. Using male or female toilets in shopping centres is not an option for a crossdresser. Just going through the doorway into a male toilet whilst dressed would encourage very close scrutiny and then ridicule. Being recognised as a fake in a female toilet could lead to the police being called. Ducking behind a tree in a park does not appeal either. Trees are for dogs and men. When I am in female mode, I need to lower the seat.
After much searching, I established where toilets existed in nearby parks and now drive to these places whenever I feel the urge to urinate when out in public in female mode. Many of these toilets are provided for weekend sports activities and are rarely used on weekdays. To stride confidently past the 'Ladies' sign, select a cubicle, lower my panties and sit upon a seat to urinate fulfills another of my transgender ambitions.
But today when I arrive at a local park after parading my illusion of femininity through a nearby mall, I am dismayed to see a delivery truck parked alongside the access path to the toilet building. Obviously a truck driver has also needed to relieve his bladder. This toilet block is positioned alongside netball courts and tucked in against the side of a hill, about two hundred metres from the road. I park my car behind the truck and sit in my car for a few minutes, expecting the truck to drive away at any moment. Apart from the truck, the entire park appears to be deserted, which is as I expected today. Heavy showers with occasional cracks of thunder have been passing over the city all morning, keeping all but the most dedicated fitness types in their homes. I scan the path from the road to the toilet block again and again as I wait but see no sign of the truck driver returning. Maybe he has already returned and is attending to paper work in his cab?
The urgency in my bladder overcomes my caution now and I alight from my car. I lock up and walk between the truck and the front of my car to the footpath, walk alongside the truck and then I turn left onto the concrete path to the toilet block. The showers have left a thin layer of water covering part of the walkway here, forcing me to tread cautiously along the left side of the path. Then I notice that over in the west, a black cloud threatens to dump another deluge on anyone fool enough to venture out today without waterproof clothing.
When I return my eyes to the path ahead, I spot a man coming out of the male toilets and turning towards me onto the same path. Damn, the truck driver is only now returning to his truck! I have no option now but to pass him on the narrow path and I am concerned that he may read me and humiliate me at this remote location. Taking a short cut across the grass to avoid a close encounter is not an option for a lady wearing heels, especially after all this rain. My suburban housewife look and makeup skills are about to be tested.
As he approaches, I study his appearance to assess my chances of escaping embarrassment. He looks about six foot tall, has big broad shoulders, arms that are covered in tattoos and wears a dark blue shirt, grey trousers and heavy boots. When closer inspection reveals a cheerful expression, I relax a little. I estimate his age as thirty to forty.
As we draw close, I do my best to smile confidently. He returns the gesture with a grin. Then he is gone behind me without a word and my fear dissipates. A few more steps and the path before me offers a choice. Without hesitation, I turn right and am soon entering the ladies toilets.
As expected, all four cubicle doors are open. I select the cubicle furthest from the door. This being to encourage any woman entering to select one of the other open doors in preference to checking out the far one. I push the door shut and note that as usual, the lock on the inside of the door is broken. But I am not unduly concerned because it is a week day, the weather is dreadful and no women were in close proximity when I entered the building.
I lift my knee length pleated skirt, lower my pink panties to my knees and sit down to urinate. Just being able to urinate in similar fashion to real women is exciting enough, but experiencing it in a real ladies toilet is exhilarating.
When the flow reduces to the last few drips, I indulge in another personal fantasy. I select a scrap of toilet paper to dry the tip of my penis just as a real woman would dry her vulva.
But before I have a chance to deposit the scrap of paper into the bowl, I am distracted. I hear footsteps enter the building. I am surprised but not unduly concerned. This is the woman's toilet block after all. Maybe a woman jogger is calling in during her run?
But then the door flies open with a loud crash and a man who I immediately identify as the truck driver stands facing me! I open my mouth to scream, but his yell stalls my protest.
"Scream and I'll punch your face in!" He says.
Stunned, only a tiny bleet sound escapes my mouth as I stare at my intruder. His massive frame seems to fill the doorway, but it's his large dark eyes that catch my attention. His stare warns me that he is just as agitated as I am.
"Leave me alone!" I say.
"Hooley shit! Ya piss like a girl too!" He says.
I feel crushed. To have been read is embarrassing enough, but to be caught in the ladies toilet with my panties down, skirt hitched up and penis dangling into the bowl is traumatic.
"What a fucking sexy sight!" He says.
I am so stunned, I can't think of anything intelligent to say that would temper my embarrassment.
"I'm not...I'm not...a real girl!" I stutter.
He laughs. "I know. I know. But you like to play at being a girl?" He asks.
I ignore his question. I can't see any point in stating the obvious.
My shock begins to subside a little, so I reach for my panties to restore a little of my dignity and make escape a possibility.
Embarrassment turns to fear in an instant.
My intruder reaches both his hands to my panties too and a struggle develops for possession of the thin panel of delicate pink material that stretches between my knees. Concealing my private parts and freeing my legs so I can flee is my first priority, so I renew my grip and hang on to my panties with determination. My knees are forced together as the pink material becomes taut and is pulled this way and that. Eventually my fingers, arms and even my legs begin to hurt as the struggle develops into a frantic clutch and pull struggle.
"No! No! Leave me alone!" I say.
But then a rip noise and a release sensation between my knees warns me that I have lost my first battle with this nasty man. As the scrap of thin material that was once my lovely pink panties falls away towards the floor like a dropped handkerchief, I begin to fear that this man intends to more than merely embarrass me.
Fear drives my responses now.
I shift my hands back and stuff my skirt between my legs in a desperate attempt to hide my private parts from his stare. But my feeble attempts at concealment appear to prompt my assailant into further acts of aggression.
"Stand up and turn round bitch!" The man says.
Fear sets my heart racing. It appears that this man intends to sexually assault me!
"No!" I reply and stay seated on the toilet bowl.
He steps forward, grabs me under the arms, lifts me and spins me around to face the toilet bowl. I resist but the strength in his arms and upper body transmits another warning. Any notions that I could physically resist this man's attentions are quickly dashed. I only just manage to prevent myself falling over the bowl by grabbing hold of the window ledge above the toilet with both hands when he releases his powerful grip upon me. As my shock subsides, the reality of my situation sinks in. With no chance of escape, save some kind of outside help, it appears that I am about to be raped as a transgender woman!
"So ya want to be a fuckin woman do ya?" My attacker asks.
When I ignore his stupid question, he continues.
"Well I gunna fuck ya just like ya wus a fucking woman!"
"No, you can't do that! That would be rape!" I say.
"Yes that's it. I gunna rape ya like a fuckin woman!"
I feel the rear of my skirt being lifted and tucked under the elastic waist band. When his fingers touch my bare arse cheeks, I feel outraged.
"You nasty man! How dare you touch me there without my permission!" I say.
"Hey bitch, I don't need no permission!" He says.
Instinct means I reach my left hand back to protect myself from his blatant encroachment but he pushes my hand away so vigorously that I nearly loose balance again. Quickly, I return my left hand to the window ledge to prevent serious injury. My brain races as I assess my options. Sodomy commited with little respect for the victim will be painful and humiliating enough but a very robust resistance could provoke a vicious beating as well.
He seems to sense my thoughts. "Stay there bitch or I'll squeeze your fuckin balls to a pulp!"
He follows up his threat by running his huge hands between my legs and feeling the shape and size of my penis and testicles. I shiver with fear as I imagine the damage that such a giant of a man could inflict upon my delicate equipment in just one sex crazed moment of aggression. Subdued and silenced into submission now, I grip the wall and await whatever disgusting acts my assailant dreams up. He senses my acquiescence immediately and becomes less urgent, less agitated.
When I feel him spread my arse cheeks with his fingers, I imagine his eyes studying my anus at close range and cringe with embarrassment.
"No! Leave me alone!" I say.
He inserts one finger tip through the tight sphincter muscle of my anus and runs it in and out.
"Hooley fuck you're a tight bitch! Like a fuckin virgin!" He says.
When he adds a second finger and pulls and stretches my tight opening to the left, right and up and down, a sharp pain warns of his lack of respect. I feel outraged that a total stranger is not only viewing but touching one of my most intimate places without my permission.
"You nasty man, you have no right to be touching me like that!" I say.
"I gunna more than touch ya darlin. I gunna get me fuckin cock right up deep in ya fuckin arse!"
"No, you mustn't do that!" I say.
"Ha ha. I read about ya fuckin tranny girls! Can never get enough fuckin cock!" He says.
"You are sexually assaulting me now! I will report you!" I say.
"Ha, ha! I tell the cops ya invited me in here for a fuck!" He says.
He leaves me alone for a few moments and I hear some tinkle noises that sound like a belt being released. Then there is a shuffling, slithering sound that I interpret as pants being forced down legs. I cringe as I imagine his huge frame standing behind me and with his penis just inches from my sensitive anus.
"Spread ya fucking legs bitch!" My attacker says.
I keep my legs together.
He laughs. "Oh well ya gunna feel my big cock even more when I stick it up ya arse!"
He stands behind me and wedges his legs between mine. I resist but as usual, I loose the battle.
When the knob of his penis accidently bumps against my right bum cheek, I get a graphic indication of what is in store for me. His penis feels large and hard.
A verbal plea seems my only hope now. "No, don't do this!"
I hear him spit into his hand and imagine that he is lubricating his penis. A shiver runs right through my body as the reality of my situation becomes clear. I never thought this could happen to me as a transvestite. I bite my bottom lip and grip the window ledge firmly as embarrassment, humiliation and fear combines to set my heart racing.
I feel the tip of his penis at my anus and then he powers his weapon straight up into my rear passage with one powerful thrust! The pain is intense. I open my mouth to scream but then recall his threats. Instead, I grip the window ledge with all my strength and attempt to ride out the frightful, burning, bruising sensation that stretches through between my legs and right up my back. Then just when I think that it can't get any worse, my attacker doesn't pause to let my rear passage adjust to it's unnatural intruder. Consequently, the pain not only continues through several of his initial thrusts, but then appears to creep further up my back increasing in severity. The pain is so bad now, I conclude that he has split my sphincter with his penis. It feels as if a hot poker has been thrust up my rear passage, splitting me open.
"Stop that at once you dreadful man. You're hurting me!" I say.
"Bullshit! Ya tranny girls love to be fucked up the arse!" He says.
After several wild, deep thrusts that have his powerful pelvis smacking violently against my soft bum cheeks and appearing to spread pain to every region of my rear passage and beyond, I am relieved to note that he settles down to thrusting in long, slow strokes. Yet even now my sphincter stings dreadfully after it's blatant rupture. It gets scant relief as it appears my attacker has a disconcerting tendency to squirm and twist as he thrusts. Inside, my delicate rectum surfaces protest too as friction between his rather dry penis and my rectal linings create a dreadful burn sensation. His penis feels relatively short but is very rigid so it still feels like a steel poker is scouring my insides.
I grip the window sill very firmly and pray that my attacker will orgasm early and release me from this extremely uncomfortable and disgusting experience. So this is what woman have to endure when they are raped? I don't like it!
"Got ya now ya bitch! How does it feel to have a real man's cock up ya bum?" He asks.
I grip the window sill very firmly and attempt to ignore the discomfort. Yet, as he thrusts I find my brain concentrating on what my nerve receptors report. I feel my sphincter stretch wide and grip to his shaft, bending in as he presses in, then following his shaft out again as he withdraws. I estimate his penis is about six inches in length but its the girth that is contributing most to that stretch and burn sensation. I feel it return whenever he exerts an especially powerful thrust. But thankfully, the pain becomes muted over time as my rear passage adjusts to it's invader. I begin to feel that my earlier assessment of a torn sphincter was most likely incorrect. Meanwhile the burn and stretch sensation in my rectum dissipates a little too, to be replaced by that fullness, burn and tingle that I am familiar with as a sexually active transvestite. I begin to relax. I firmly believe that I can survive this nasty experience now. I have read that rapists never last long, so all I need do is hang on tight and I should be on my way home soon.
But now I am startled by an unfamiliar noise. It sounds like pebbles being dropped onto the roof from a great height. Of course, it's hail stones landing on the iron roof! One or two become three or four and in a few minutes a loud drumming sound reverberates through the cubicle making conversation nearly impossible. I am dismayed. Any chance of being accidently disturbed by a woman jogger or similar and released from this assault has diminished greatly now.
My attacker reaches similar conclusions. He holds my hips and thrusts gently, appearing to savour each stroke. Believing that he has subdued his victim sufficiently and is now unlikely to be sprung by a female visitor, he is seizing this unexpected opportunity to fulfill a few fantasies of his own. I become annoyed. In time, his thrusting becomes so gentle and pleasant that I have to remind myself that this man is raping me. When the fullness and tingles begin to seriously titivate my glands the same way that male lovers do, I attempt to ignore any stimulation that his grips upon my body, comments and thrusts generate.
"Fuck that feels good!" He says.
A bright flash of light startles me. But when a second later a loud crack sound reaches my ears, I recognise the phenomenon and ignore it.
But my attacker is distracted. He changes tack to wrap his massive arms around me and bury his penis deep in my body to pause there as if attempting to protect me from harm. I am more amused than impressed.
"You're a fucking darling!" He shouts above the sound of rain on the roof.
I attempt to ignore his comments and the sensations he is stimulating but, in a few moments I am starting to get aroused by this session. My rapist is becoming more like a lover!
"Fuck that feels so good!" He says. "You're a fucking beautiful woman!"
Well if there is one thing that gets me excited, it's men who appreciate my womanly charms. The fact that this man is risking a serious assault charge here impressess me too.
Another loud thunder clap outside, together with a continuous drumming noise on the roof warns that the weather is worsening. My attacker seizes his opportunity to indulge in further sexual fantasies. He thrusts slowly, but then pauses to run his hands over my body. Then he pulls his penis right out, inspects his wet shaft, then slides it very slowly into me again. Then he grips my hips firmly, twisting his own hips alternatively to left and right to power his penis into me at angles. This puts stress on my already bruised sphincter, reminding me that I really am being used and abused.
"Orrr fuck that feels so bloody good!" He yells.
I am inclined to agree, but I keep my mouth shut. I feel that I must retain a complete detachment from what my internal sex glands are telling me and conceal my secret pleasures from my rapist.
He changes his position again now, reaching both hands to my shoulders, lays some of his weight upon my back and shortens his thrusts. I have to renew my grip upon the window ledge and hold my back muscles taut to prevent both of us collapsing onto the bowl. He seems to be on me, in me and using me in every way and I rather enjoy the sensation. The rain eases off till only the odd tinkle sound can be heard on the iron roof. The quiet seems rather foreboding after that constant drumming sound.
My attacker appears distracted too. Standing further back, he holds my hips and using almost every inch of his penis, thrusts slow and gentle, stopping frequently to look down at his greased penis as it slides into my body. He appears to be fascinated by the sight.
"Shit, you can take it all! Yea ya can take it all up ya arse! What a fuckin slut ya are!" He says.
He thrusts wildly now, slamming his penis into me whilst twisting and turning, adding further heat to that burn sensation that began with his first wild penetration. The discomfort relayed by my bruised sphincter as it is twisted, pummeled and stretched, confirms my sense of being used and abused. Yet I find myself warming to this aggressive style of sex. It seems to have stirred some latent passion in my complex, transgendered personality.
"Oh yea baby! Ya arse is better than any woman's cunt!"
His comments are welcome but I feel that I must play my part.
"Leave me alone! You are violating my body!" I say.
He laughs. "Yes and I am gunna seed ya with me hot cum too!"
Oh no, I hadn't thought about that. His penis is bare! A vision forms in my brain of his bare penis sliding into my rectum, his knob peeling back as it forces a passage between my finely textured walls, exposing and opening his slit hole. Just the way it does when I stroke my boyfriend's cock with my hands. Only this man's slit hole is free to unleash it's hot seed into me. I have never experienced bareback sex before. As a result, my sense of being used and abused increases dramatically. My treasured body is about to be contaminated with a stranger's filthy sexual fluids.
I hear his breathing becoming more laboured with each thrust and I await his orgasm with both fear and excitement. Experience warns me that some men can become quite violent when they orgasm and this one is very strong and has already displayed aggressive behaviour.
"Oh darling, ya arse feels so good! So fuckin good!" He says.
I am incined to agree with his assessment of anal intercourse, but as the apparent victim in this assault, I keep my mouth shut.
He thrusts harder now, grunting and swearing profusely. He calls me a bitch, a cunt, an arsehole and a whore and many other things that I fail to comprehend, in between gasps for breath. I grasp the window ledge firmly as my body takes a pounding. Yet my rear passage burns and tingles delightfully. This man's aggression has added an extra dimension to this encounter somehow. How could this be? Maybe his bare cock is adding to my pleasure? Condom covered cocks do feel rather dry and abrasive compared to this slippery bare one. Have I been missing something here?
"Oh fuck, ya making me cum!" My rapist says.
I want to tell him about the gorgeous little shivers that are running all through my lower body and about the secret vision that keeps dancing before my eyes of his penis squirting his seed. But I don't. Instead I yell, "You're raping me!"
He holds my hips firmly in place and slams his penis into me again and again. My arse cheeks cushion each blow as his strong pelvis makes repeated contacts, but my back absorbs most of the energy that he unleases. In a few moments my back begins to ache, adding to my sense of being used and abused. My rapist is really enjoying my body now and I can't deny I am enjoying this ride now too!
"Fuckin arseholes! That is so, soooo faarkin, faarkin good!" He splutters.
I notice how when his breathing becomes laboured, his swearing becomes almost incoherant.
He wraps his arms around my body, increasing his tight grip and shortening his thrusts. I feel like a little rag doll in the jaws of a huge dog. Except that this huge dog is giving me the ride of my life now. A physical and emotional ride that I will never forget!
When he releases me from his bear hug, and reverts to holding my hips as he thrusts, I feel a familiar sensation between my legs. I look down and am not at all surprised to discover that my own penis is fully erect now and bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts.
"Oooo ya bitch! Ya teasing fuckin bitch! Ooooo yes babe, I gunna cum!" My attacker says.
I'm so aroused, I loose all sense of restraint. "Give it to me big boy!"
Fortunately my attacker is too engrossed in his own pleasure to interpret my enthusiasm and retains his dominance.
He begins chanting: "Arrr...Arrr...Arrr!" As he slams his penis into me in rapid strokes.
My lower regions take a real battering. I know I will be sore for days after this but I don't care now.
"I gunna cum! Oh yes baby I gunna cum big time!" He squals.
"Arrr...Arrr...Arrr...Arrr...Arrr!" He chants as he thrusts, jumps, staggers and shivers violently.
My imagination runs wild. In high definition colour, I see the purple knob of his penis in my pink rectum. A single spit of fluid shoots from his slit hole, there is a lengthy pause then a thick clump flies out. Full squirts follow in rapid order, shooting from his slit hole to spray onto the walls of my rectum. So much that it is soon sliding back to form a pool around the head of his penis. When he wriggles his penis slightly, some slips past his swollen knob to slide down his shaft.
I shiver and tingle with a strange blend of disgust and feminine pride. For the first time, I have been impregnated as a woman. My list of feminine experiences has increased dramatically today.
"Arrrrh shit Yesssss! Arh! Arh! Arh! You fucking...Ya fucking...Arh fuck! Fuck!" He stutters.
He continues to jump, shiver and squirm about in ecstasy, indicating that further shots of ejaculate are shooting into that large pool around the knob of his penis. A sense of wetness down there confirms what my brain had visualised.
"You're a fucking beauty!" He whispers into my blonde hair.
He wriggles his pelvis around and pushes his penis in and out in a desperate attempt to prolong his pleasure. A typical male response. For several minutes he holds my little body tight against his giant frame as the last of his ejaculate oozes from his penis.
"Oh fuck that was good," he whispers in my ear.
I open my mouth to speak but then recall that this man is not a lover who deserves my acknowledgement and praise, so I close it again.
Later, when my attacker withdraws his softening penis from my body, embarrassment replaces aggression.
"Sorry." He says. "When I saw you I knew I just had to have you."
I formulate a protest but then realise that my words will be wasted on such an individual, so I keep my mouth shut and remain facing the bowl.
I hear him pull his trousers back up, clip his belt together and walk from the building.
Still stunned by the experience, I remain where he left me for several minutes, reliving the assault and attempting to comprehend my responses. What happened here?
A few spits of rain strike the roof, followed by what sounds like stones as hail joins the mix. Within seconds, the loud drumming noise has returned to numb my senses. I am thankful for the respite offered this time though as I attempt to gather my thoughts.
As the sound of water splashing everywhere dominates my world, I become aware of a wet sensation between my thighs too. I recognise it's source immediately. Some of my attackers spent ejaculate has leaked from my gaping anus and is now sliding down my left inner thigh! It feels disgusting. But with my blood still full of sex hormones and adrenalin after my scary encounter, I give in to temptation. I turn around, push the door closed and standing with my back to the toilet, I press down on my rectal muscles. I hear several loud pops and squirt sounds as I express more of my attacker's ejaculate from my anus. In a short time, I can feel several clumps of ejaculate sliding down my inner thighs. The sensation is both disgusting and exhilarating at the same time. So this is what it feels like to have bareback anal sex? This is what it feels like to be raped as a transvestite?
I become so aroused by what I feel and with the memories so fresh, I can't resist reaching my fingers to my erect penis. Using the slimy liquid that leaks from my body as lubricant, I begin masterbating myself. The familiar aroma of male ejaculate lingers in the air, adding to my fantasy. Eventually, I use both hands to masterbate myself against the back of the wooden door, reliving the attack in my mind. After just a few minutes I squeal loudly and watch my ejaculate shoot from my penis in thick spurts to splatter against the door, before sliding towards the floor in a lumpy stream.