Rape

You can pick out the straights cuz they still stand off from the rest of us.  Bi-curious they call themselves  –  if you even get that far.  None of them are ever gonna be bottoms – I don’t even bother with them. 

I don’t do bottom.  I don’t give a shit about how you’ll be gentle.  I’ll like a good rimming  –  nope.  I’m built like a damn brick shithouse –  I don’t lay down for nobody  –  unless your gonna ride me. 

So this guy walks in – bald – in real biker leathers.  I can tell he’s an actual biker – not a poser like some of these other guys.   The music’s loud and poppy – I think they’re playing Maroon fuckin five on a loop.  He doesn’t dance but goes right up to the bar.  I don’t like bald guys usually but something about this guy makes me curious. 

He sits next to a guy I pegged a straight.  I go over to them.  I don’t come across as a typical faggot.  I’m dressed conservatively –  tie and a couple of buttons of my shirt undone –  otherwise still in my business suit.  I work out – so I fill it out really good.  I’m one of the few that can carry three boxes of paper from one end of the office to the other.  I do sales.  Clients think I’m hot – I’m sure.  I’ve seen it. 

I sell product – I sell myself just as well.  I know this.  So I turn on the charm – and I sit next to the straight – real close.  And just as I figure – he finds an excuse to leave.  Hahaha. 

I take his stool – the guy’s big.  Tall.  He looks at me – he’s got the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen on a guy.  Like a Carribbean ocean. 

He asks if I come here often.  Well yeah – it’s one of the few gay bars that have some kind of decorum left.  The Port is normally overrun by Fambly and Shoo but some hero gets paid to keep a radius around here clean.  It’s why it’s so crowded on Thursdays. 

We get to talking.  He’s not new in the area.  He doesn’t come here.  So he must be straight.  Another bi-seeker.  I think I’m gonna have fun with this one – he’ll never know anything more than being a bottom once I get through with him.  His name’s Brian and I tell him mine so he knows what to scream when I plow him. 

It takes us a half hour before we get through the bullshit to get to the meat of the matter – so to speak.  We both head into the bathroom where there’s already a couple of guys in the end stall doing something that’s making somebody bang into the metal wall.  The music thumps even in here. 

So I grab the guy and go to throw him against the wall – he’s gonna get it rough.  The guy doesn’t fucking move.  I’m strong – you know –I don’t wanna hurt him.  I apply more pressure and try again.  He still doesn’t move.                       ———->    

(Back)

 I’m looking at him through the mirror, and he has a little cocky grin on his face.  What are you trying to do? he says to me.  That pisses me off so I try it again – shoving him forward with all my strength into the sinks this time.  I’ll bend the bastard over and take him that way. 

Son of a bitch still doesn’t move.  Then he turns around – like he’s in the military.  He’s still got that fucking grin on his face.  I try and push him this time.  Nothing. 

Then he shoves me, and I go flying into the wall.  Holy fuck – he didn’t even look like he tried hard.  I bet the bastard’s some sort of martial artist.  I straighten up – now I’m both turned on and pissed off.  He’s standing in the middle of the john, and he’s looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.  The grin’s gone.  

You know when they say someone goes cold?  Son of a bitch if I know what that means now.  The blue eyes weren’t like oceans, but like ice.  I ain’t never been scared before. 

He grabbed me by my shirt – hard enough to pull buttons off.  He pulls me into the handicapped stall – nobody’s supposed to use it in case of real handicapped people.  He throws me face-first into the wall.  It’s how my nose got broken I think. 

Then he tore off my pants.  I mean tore them off my fuckin waist.  Think you’ll take me he says.  He said something else but all I could hear was him getting his shit off behind me – I think.  Then he got on top of me. 

(Later, new page.)

 They told me the rape kit came back negative.  No DNA – no nothing.  Something got stuck up my ass, something that tore up all my insides – so my fuckin colon and my intestines are all fucked up.  I gotta be on a colostomy bag for the rest of my fuckin life.  

I don’t remember much when he got on top me.  I remember a little pain.  Then –

He must’ve stuck a PVC pipe up there.  Can’t you guys test for that shit?  What’s it called?  Foreign bodies?

 (Later, new page) 

Gerry came to see me.  Him and his wife think the guy was a straight white guy with a grudge.  Police have no leads.  They ain’t gonna look for nobody because I’m a black queer.  Nobody remembers seeing him except me.  The guys in the stall never came forward.  Nobody heard nothing. 

There was no missing pipe.  Nobody’s that big.  Even if they were – it stops when you hit the end of the colon.  I know it does.  You can’t go further than that.  Nobody’s that hard or that strong. 

Gerry stayed by himself with me after he chased his wife out.  He asked me if I did it to myself.  How the hell can I do it to myself – sit on a fuckin pipe?  In the fuckin bathroom?  

They didn’t find me in the bathroom but outside in the alley.  My pants were gone.  Disappeared.  They think I got slipped a mickey and did it outside somehow.  

But sitting on a fuckin PVC prolly half a foot wide and a foot long?  No fuckin way.  I don’t know if that’s the right dimensions but it felt like it. 

(Later, last page) 

Going home today.  Police asked me to write down what happened exactly.  Gerry think they waited too long to take me seriously.  He’s gonna start suing for discrimination.  I think their humoring me.  They don’t believe me. 

Nobody’s listening.  There’s monsters out there.

 Words: 1132
Inspiration:  Bomber taking out his being tied up on some other guy.  Probably not canon, but it was an experiment in speaking in a different voice.  Grammatical and spelling errors are intentional – trust me, some men in my office write like this, without the swearing.
Music:  Makes Me Wonder, Maroon 5 – the only club-like music I have on my iPod.