Victim: You wake in the hospital, doctors and parents near
From Create Your Own Story
A semester goes by before you are seen at school again. Rumors have flown as to what happened, why you haven't been seen, only you knowing the full story.
You weren't discovered until after school had closed and students had gone home. You'd picked your blackmail location a little too well. The police try to figure out what happened, of course, but they can't find anyone who knows why you were there or who might have met you. The prevailing theory of the police was rape, the theory of the students a tryst gone wrong. Neither is right, and when you finally wake you don't tell them. You just say you don't remember anything but being hit, and after exhaustive attempts to get you to speak they leave you alone.
Everyday your parents look at you and wonder, not sure that you weren't raped. The doctors had expressed the opinion that you weren't, but they keep the blood and semen on and in your genitals a secret, thinking it was the rapist. No one knows it was you. Only you know that it was you.
It was a scary night for your parents. Your face was so badly battered you had to have surgery, and even after when the swelling is down your face is not as it was. You hair is shaved, your caved-in skull put back to its proper form. Some talk is made about potential brain damage.
Advice is given to your parents to send you to a therapist, to help mend the mental scars. They send you to a plastic surgeon instead. They expect you to come back fixed, looking and acting like you, but when the bandages come off your jaw, cheeks, nose and brow are different. There are no scars on your face, only under your hair where they can't be seen. They hate the look. You know it. They hate that your hair is short, it reminds them that someone violated you, for they are certain that you were raped, maybe by multiple people.
Somehow they can't think of you as their precious, innocent daughter anymore. Somehow you're now a stranger to them, someone who took over the body of their child and made changes. Or maybe you're an embarrassment.
You don't know and can't figure out what they feel, why they've abandoned you. You certainly can't ask them about it, as they avoid talking to you or being around you to such a degree that they barely see each other and work late and on weekends. In your mind blooms the seed that it's your fault. If you'd done some things differently it wouldn't have happened. But it did, and obviously you have something wrong with you. You need only remember the orgasm you gave yourself with your own pain and blood and the cum of the stranger.
Some of the rumors at school say you left because you were pregnant, that the baby was conceived at a dance late in the last school-year, and that you left school when it began to show in your fifth month. It isn't entirely wrong. You became pregnant from the cum you smeared within yourself, and though the doctors advised your parents to get it checked on soon they left it for over a month before being forced to acknowledge it by a helpful doctor. They sent you the next day to get an abortion. You were too numb to care, but you still felt the baby like a phantom limb from time to time, even though it was far too small to be felt, inside or out.
You've found your therapy of choice to relieve the stress is to masturbate, to remember the orgasm that took the pain and seemed to carry you away from the situation that lead to it. At the same time that orgasm is your biggest source of shame. Your savior and damnation in one, but you can't stop thinking about it, about trying to achieve it again.
Your parents were willing to let you avoid going back, having the parents send all the school work to your home and then send your homework and tests back. Your grades were abysmal, but you scraped by, schoolwork being about the only thing you had other than masturbation.
Now it's school-time again, second semester, and you're returning, your new face even more beautiful than your old; your body actually seems to have bloomed in the last few months, your breasts growing a cup size and your hips becoming a little more womanly, your legs longer and more shapely.
| Status | |||
| Gender | Female | <- Equipment -> | |
| Age | 14 | Nothing | |
