Girly Joe
- 4 years ago
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A Girl Named Joe free porn video
Joe Bradley also known as Joanne Bradford was on the floor of his little
efficiency apartment laboriously cranking out push-ups. He could not
manage as many as he wanted, because of diminished upper body strength.
When he managed twenty push-ups he switched to sit ups, those were
easier. Then he used the bar he installed in the closet to do ten pull-
ups. When that regimen was finished, Joe took a shower. It had been
three days since Joe's rape and he had not reported it. Doing so would
have been even more humiliating to Joe than the rape itself. Besides
that, Joseph Bradley had a better idea. He would take the black market
38 caliber revolver he had purchased and the next time Joe saw the
little shit that violated him, Joe would shoot him. Joe would put one
round in his chest and one in his balls.
That would be the end of that shit.
Mike was now on the moon talking to the space people, or at least she
would be soon. Joe decided that he could settle that piece of shit
rapist's hash and Mike didn't need to know. Joe had stopped seeing
Merry. He was rebuffing her calls and when she came by the apartment,
Joe told her that he hated her guts and never wanted to see her again
without explaining why.
Joe Bradley was a man, which was how he thought of himself. A Marine, a
husband, a father, a businessman. Joe vested his whole self in that. It
was all he had to keep himself from putting that gun in his own mouth.
The plan was almost childishly simple. Go back to the club. Find the
raping little bastard, lure him into the ally behind the club, then get
him In the same position they had been in before. Then when he was at
full attention and ready to go to the Promised Land she would shoot him
and leave him there. Joe took the package of surgical gloves and the
medical hairnet he would wear to prevent fibers and traces from ending
up there.
Joe went to breakfast at the same place he always did and ate almost
mechanically, as if he were fueling a machine. Then he signed the chit
and left walking around and looking at all the other people. He watched
then men, women, boys, and girls with differing attitudes. The women
were harmless, as were the children, but the men, correction, the OTHER
men were another matter. Joe walked in wearing his Vietnam War O.D.
green jungle utilities and t-shirt with his big shoulder bag strapped
crosswise over his breasts. The boots and uniform pieces were like a
suit of armor to Joe's mind. The knife and pistol in the bag made him
feel better. Not good, but better. Joseph Bradley was on lockdown. He
felt the same way now, as he once did on a combat patrol in Korea during
that war. Enemies everywhere and danger around every corner. Womanhood
was not a blessing, it was a curse. It made you a victim, a target.
Being a woman made you prey, and prey was fodder for predators.
Since that night at the club, Joe had not touched himself in any kind of
sexual manner and he had even thrown out his copious collection of men's
skin magazines. Sex was off the menu. It would only remind Joe that he
was the target, not the shooter, the prey, not the hunter. Even the
thought of sex even with a woman now made him feel,..weak, bad, wrong,
and dirty.
Joe passed his time walking and people watching and slowly making his
way to the nightclub cum hotel in which the rape happened. Much like a
jungle cat stalking its prey, Joe would wait in this general area for
his target. There was a Taco joint where Joe could eat and a gas station
Joe could use for his lavatory as well as the little convenience store
the gas station had for minor supplies. Joe sat in the little perch he
made for himself and used the pair of binoculars he bought at the Army-
Navy store at which he bought most of his clothes to watch and wait.
At eight thirty that night, after nearly twelve hours on self-imposed
stakeout, the shitbag with no name walked into the club. Joe waited a
25-minute interval and went in after him.
The bar was darkened, just as Joe remembered it. It had that almost
forced sense of dilapidated improvisation, enforced by the tables made
of large cable spools salvaged from somewhere and the mismatched kitchen
chairs. The mediocre cover band played an older Rolling Stones tune,
something about not being able to achieve satisfaction.
Given the nature of the mostly college crowd and their dress of jeans
and T-Shirts and or various kinds of cast-off military uniform articles,
Joe passed through the crowd unnoticed. He wore the cap blouse and
utility trousers bloused into his boots, lending him an almost official
appearance, but yet, no one really paid him any notice wrapped up as
they were in their own lives and pleasures. Joe's target was the same as
he laughed and joked with his friends and their girls drinking his beer
without a care in the world. Three days ago, he shattered Joe's life and
probably scuttled any chance of Joe normalizing as a woman, and to him
it was as if it never happened. His crime meant nothing to him.
For Joe, it was one of the worst nights in his life, but for this snotty
little son of a bitch, it was Tuesday. Joe ordered a boilermaker, and
nursed it as slowly as he could while collecting his thoughts. Killing
this bastard was not enough. It would let him off too easy. Joe wanted
him to feel what he made Joe feel. This feeling of helplessness, this
feeling of terrible non-personhood.
When the time came, Joe watched him make his excuses and head for the
bathroom. It was then that Joe moved in. Joe walked up to him, and put
the loaded and cocked smith and Wesson revolver into the young rapist's
back. Joe told him authoritatively, "Walk toward the back exit, do it
now."
The 21 year old college senior at FSU realized suddenly by the timber in
Joe's feminine voice that if he did not obey the gun wielder, he was
going to die. Joe pushed him out the rear exit and ordered him, "Get
back against the wall, and get your pants off, right now."
Not being an idiot, the boy followed orders, and being a healthy young
man his erection rose to full standing, despite, or perhaps because an
attractive woman was holding a gun on him.
"Joe then kept the weapon leveled and used his other hand to take down
his own trousers and push his panties down to his ankles. "Now, get on
the grown lie down right now."
The terrified boy did as ordered and Joe crouched over him maneuvering
the pants around to get them out of the way. When Joe was in position
over the boy's erection he put the barrel of the gun in his mouth and
told him, "I'm going to put you inside me and then, I'm going to move
until I get off. If you move or do anything, or if you cum in me I'm
going to decorate the back wall with your brains. Do you understand? I'm
going to use you the way you used me, a rape for a rape." The young man
nodded and let Joe stick the gun in his mouth, then Joe took hold of the
lad's penis and slowly moved over it until it was fully inserted. Joe
found himself shocked by how good it felt to have the kid's dick filling
his vagina on his non-consensual terms. Joe started moving over the lad
and enjoying the feelings, this was giving him. As the pleasure from the
friction and motion built, Joe started talking between gasping breaths,
"Oh, Yeah, You're my little bitch, My toy, suck that gun like it's a
dick, suck that steel dick, punk, DO IT!"
By now, Joe had pushed his t-shirt up over his breast and played with
his nipples and breasts with his free hand while moving the weapon in
and out of the victim's mouth. The boy was now moving his lips and doing
his best to give fellatio to a pistol. Joe was nearing his own climax,
and moaned as the warm hot, hotter hottest waves of pleasure ran through
him starting at his vulva, vagina, and breasts and moving back and forth
over and through his body.
When Joe climaxed he cried out, "OOOOHHHHGAAAHHHHDDDDD
YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH SUCK MY DICK BITCH TAKE MY STEEL DICK!"
As Joe reached orgasm the young man was visibly tearing and silently
crying at the effort to NOT climax, and with the humiliation, he was
feeling. Joe made him endure it as he moved and writhed over him for a
second orgasm, "OOOHHHHHMMMMMYYYYYGAAAADDDDDHHHHH!"
Then Joseph Bradley got off him and took the gun from the boy's mouth.
Joe pulled up his panties and trousers and looked approvingly at his
victim's still hard penis. Joe looked at him and said, "Now you know how
it feels, you little shit. Don't fuck with me or report this or I'll
report what you did to me."
As Joe walked away into the night, the young man he had just raped sat
there. It was another five to ten minutes before he could bring himself
to dress and return to his friends. When he did, he was a shell of his
former cocky self-assured bravado. Joe walked to the nearest bus stop
and thought about what he had just done. He had just raped a man. Joe
had forced a man at gunpoint to have sexual relations with him and
denied him sexual release. Doing so had made Joe feel powerful and
affirmed that he was still a person, still a man. Besides, raping
someone who raped you was not REALLY the same thing, it was more like
balancing the scales. The bus trip back to the stop near Joe's apartment
was a quiet one as Joe decided in final terms that it was not as if the
little shit could or would report this to the police. They would laugh
him out of the station house.
Joe sat on the couch in his living room and thought about the frankly
unbelievable level of sexual enjoyment and satisfaction he got from
having his victim's penis inside of him and riding that kid to orgasmic
glory. His victim's pubic region and groin had rubbed and exited Joe's
clitoris and labia and Joe had full control of the force and motion
being applied. Therefore, it had felt just perfect, and Joe realized
that, it wasn't penetrative sex that made him feel like a victim it was
the loss of control.
As long as Joe was in control and 'running the fuck' as it were, sex
with a man could be just wonderful. Just as long as the man was 'the
woman'.
The next morning, Joe was jarred out of a deep and almost dreamless
sleep by the sound of a knocking at the door. Joe looked down at himself
and realized he had gone to sleep in the nude. Then he remembered that
he had, had to masturbate himself several times just to be able to get
to sleep. It seemed he could not stop thinking about how good it felt to
'be the man' with his former rapist cum victim.
Joe rose and walked, still nude without preamble to the door and
shouted, "WHO IS IT? It's-" Joe looked at the clock on the bedstead,
"Fuckin' six thirty in the morning!" Meredith's voice came through the
wooden barrier,
"Joe, It's me, Merry, let me in, we have to talk", Joe realized that
after the past several days events, what with his rape and subsequent
payback, that was damned straight. He opened the door, not even
bothering to cover his nudity in light of the two people's past sexual
intimacy, and told Meredith, "You're damned right we have to talk, lady,
get in here."
Meredith felt more than a little awkward at Joe's almost confrontational
nakedness, but forged ahead as she watched Joe take a carton of milk
from the refrigerator in the kitchenette and drink straight from the
carton. He swallowed two mouthfuls of ice-cold milk before replacing the
carton in the fridge and looking at Meredith, asking, "Well, say your
say."
"
Meredith shook her head as she realized that yes; Joe was actually going
to stay naked for this conversation, almost daring her to have a problem
with it. Then she forged ahead. "Joe, I know about Roderick attacking
you, I know he forced you to have sex. He deliberately got you drunk and
forced you to have sex with him."
"Oh, izzat so? Well, what were you and the fabulous, furry freaky people
planning to do about it?" Joe poured himself a glass of orange juice and
took a cold package of pop tarts to the big easy chair, obviously intent
on eating an impromptu breakfast in the nude and without offering
Meredith anything?"
"Well, we asked him to apologize to you and turn himself in to the
police for raping you."
Joe was confidently dismissive, "Oh, well, what if I told you that
Junior and I already came to a satisfactory arrangement, call it a bit
of tit for tat?"
Meredith asked almost accusingly, "Jo' what did you do?" Joe answered
casually, brushing pop tart crumbs from his breasts, "Simple he fucked
me, so I fucked him back, now we're even."
"Wait, I don't,...how can a woman rape a man, how does that even work?"
"Don't worry about it; just suffice it to say I consider the matter
closed."
"Uhm, Yeah, well, Jo' could you please put some clothes on?"
Joe became almost impish as he answered, "Why, am I making you
uncomfortable? This is nothing you haven't seen before, so why are you
getting all weird about it?"
Meredith stood up and told him, "Because it feels like you're using your
sexuality as a weapon, like your threatening me with it!" Joe exclaimed
as he donned a bathrobe of indeterminate color and dubious origin, "SEX
IS POWER, Meredith! That's what I finally figured out! Moreover, for
most of human history it has been used as exactly that. I admit that in
my own marriage, the power exchange was mutual and resulted in mutual
trust, but now, I don't have that. That means I'm powerless, I'm
vulnerable. Being raped taught me that. If I don't want to spend the
rest of what passes for my life getting fucked over, and possibly just
plain fucked. I had better nut up and be the one doing the fucking!"
Meredith Foster was horrified, the look on her faced expressed shock at
Joe's words and manner and she responded, "Jo' how can you say that, sex
isn't a weapon, it's not about power trips and dominance, it's a loving
way to be happy, that's all. You're letting this thing that happened to
you twist you all up."
"Bullshit. I have news for you. In the real world dominated and
controlled by rapists and rapist enablers, NONE of what you just said is
true. Now get the hell out of here, I need to get dressed, I have shit
to do."
Meredith tried to rebut by telling Joe, "Jo' I never meant for that to
happen to you,.._" Joe cut her off with an angry,
"Oh, Izzat so? Well, I'll be god damned to hell, because you sure didn't
say anything when I was being liquored up and led like a lamb to the
slaughter back to get fucked like a bitch in some sleazy knocking shop.
Let me remind you of an old Roman proverb that I'll paraphrase for your
convenience, 'She who is silent is understood to consent.' Now getting
back to my first thought, GET THE FUCK OUT AND DON'T COME BACK!"
Meredith left in tears and Joe went to shower. As he showered, he rubbed
and caressed his breasts and belly and inner thighs and vulva and
fingered and penetrated his vagina working himself to an orgasm. Once
upon a time, female sex had frightened Joe and made him feel small,
weak, and powerless, but now, sex and sexuality made Joe feel ten feet
tall and reminded him of the power that a woman's body had, if it was
applied properly.
Joe spent days at the library reading and studying. For most of his
life he lived in one kind of culture. Now that he had to live I nthe
body of a woman he realized this was a different country entirely. This
was a culture and society steeped in what could only be called Rape
culture.
Women were warned not to have sex until marriage. Men by and large
receive no such admonition, or at least not nearly as strongly. A woman
who was a virgin past 18 was a hallmark of purity, a man who was
virginal past 18 was an impotent joke. In 1974, in any rape trial the
victim faced the harshest most demeaning accusations. The amounted to
"What did you do to get raped?"
Women were taught not to be raped, but why weren't men taught not to
rape? In common adult custom it was understood that a man who bought a
woman a nice supper and a movie or a night out was entitled to
SOMETHING, and sexual favors were assumed as his right. It was absurd.
The worst thing about this was that Marjorie and Mary were both natural
born women, and they lived in the Rape Culture all their lives. Even as
a father and Husband Jone realized his relationship with the two women
in his life was focused on protecting his de facto female property from
other men.
The boot was on the other foot and now Joe was a walking piece of
unclaimed sexual property. Mike Partenza didn't know, or if she did she
gave no sign she knew. Joe would have to be careful if he wanted to get
along with her. This month by the Cape would not last forever, and Joe
would have to keep all of this quiet.
Oprah
- 15.01.2021
- 12
- 0
