I met Pete on my first day in college. He was a couple of years older than me but we hit it off immediately. It wasn't long before we were close friends and hung about together practically all the time. Like all undergrads, we spent a good deal of our time at parties and in the student bar. He had a great way with girls and we regularly managed to team up with a couple of chicks when we went out.
During one boozy evening in the bar, Pete asked me a rather strange question.
"Have you ever worn girls' clothes?"
It was a strange question for a few reasons. Firstly, we weren't talking about anything like that when he popped the question. Secondly, he knew I was straight. Thirdly, I had worn girls' clothes but had never admitted it to anyone. In fact, it was my secret (and favourite) pastime. I laughed the question off and he didn't bring it up again, but I guess he must have seen something in my reaction that told him what he wanted to know.
A couple of weeks later we were out together at a party in one of the student houses. It was the typical affair - lots of drink, dark, noisy and plenty of grinding. Sometime during the night we lost sight of each other. I wasn't particularly worried - I knew plenty of people there and figured that he had probably picked up some girl. It was about 2:30 when the party began to fizzle out and I decided to make my way home.
I was walking back across campus towards the freshman accommodation when a large rental van pulled out of the car park and began driving slowly towards me. It was strange to see any vehicles moving around on campus so late, but I wasn't particularly worried until it screeched to a halt beside me and a guy wearing dark clothes and a balaclava jumped out of the back. He was holding a baseball bat, which he used to jab me in the stomach before I could react. I doubled over in pain, breathless. The next thing I knew I was being bundled into the back of the van and the door was closed. I felt a pad being pushed over my nose that smelt of a strong and sickly chemical. I tried to struggle free and to hold my breath at the same time - it was useless. I felt myself slip into unconsciousness as the van began to move.
I came to lying on my side on the floor in a darkened room. I was feeling groggy and disorientated. Music was playing loudly and I could here some guys talking and laughing nearby. My hands were bound behind my back and I was completely naked. I tried to sit up but ended up on my face. Next thing I felt strong hands grip me and found myself looking into the leering face of one of the biggest and ugliest guys I've ever seen. He cuffed me across the face, sending me reeling to the floor. I thought he had broken my jaw. He picked me up again and snarled.
"OK sissy boy - you're mine and you will do exactly what I say or I'll kill you - got it?"
I didn't think I was a coward before then, but from that moment I knew that I would offer no resistance. I didn't want to die here alone with this guy.
He started by getting me to suck his cock - a thing that I've never done before. I felt degraded but I did my best to please him. I was so afraid. Then he bent me over a table and fucked my ass. When he told me to moan and beg him to fuck me, I did. When he asked me if I had enjoyed it, I said I did. All I remember was the pain, the degradation and the feeling of confusion. I guess I was still loaded with booze and chemicals because I don't remember when the rape ended. I must have passed out because the next thing I remember was waking up on the floor again. This time I was alone and the pale light coming in from a small window on a far wall told me that it was already daytime.
I realised that I wasn't tied up anymore and I somehow struggled to my feet. I was still naked and felt bruised and battered all over. I was in some sort of a basement with a concrete floor, brick walls and practically nothing else besides a table, a couple of chairs and a bucket. I tried to open the heavy steel door but wasn't surprised to find it locked. There was nothing much to do, so I sat down and waited. At one point I had to use the bucket but for the rest of the time I waited. It got dark again. I waited some more. I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew he was back.
"Glad to see me?"
I nodded mutely. He pushed a paper bag to me. It contained a half eaten burger and an opened bottle of coke.
"Thanks", I muttered and ate and drank hungrily.
"Fancy a fuck?" he asked.
I shook my head once before I felt myself fly from the chair and land heavily on the floor.
"Wrong answer", he growled.
This time I reacted. I cursed and struggled to my feet. He was on me in a second. He grabbed me by my shoulders and spun me around so that I was facing him.
"I am going to fuck you like I did last night and like I'll do for every night from now on. You can fight if you want. But you'll only end up getting hurt and you'll still be fucked in the end!"
I knew he was right and started to cry.
"Shut the fuck up and suck my cock" he snarled.
So I did.
The next couple of nights went the same way. The third night he arrived early.
"I've got some friends coming over - I don't want you to give any trouble. Understand?"
I nodded. That night I sucked cock and was fucked by three or four other guys. They appeared satisfied with my performance. I thought it was all over when I saw Pete standing in the corner. My heart jumped and fell all in one second. He looked solemn as he walked towards me.
"It doesn't look good," he said. "These guys don't intend to let you go. I've promised them that you won't tell anyone - but they don't believe me."
I was stunned - too shocked to speak. What was he saying. How the fuck did he find me. And why wasn't he going to do anything to get me out of there? I guess he knew what I was thinking.
"These guys aren't my friends," he apologised. "More like business associates - very powerful business associates" He shuffled uncomfortably. "The only way out that I see is to keep them happy." There was a pause. "They want you to dress like a girl from now on..."
Over the next couple of weeks I learned to dress myself in the sexy lingerie and clothes that they left for me. I learned how to smile and to flirt with my visitors. I learned how to give head and ass like I enjoyed it. In short, I learned how to be a tranny whore. Pete visited every now and again. He always looked solemn - he asked me if they were treating me OK but never offered any hope of escape. After a while he began to call me by my new name: Aisling. He would kiss me lightly on the cheek when he arrived and when he left. I guess I knew that he was beginning to see me as a girl.
Strangely, that gave me a feeling of hope.
(To be continued)