Everybody leant forward in anticipation of learning something, about that which they all pretended to know. Danni continued with her narrative.
“All a man thinks about is himself. He begins by groping your tits like stress-balls. Then he wants you to do all disgusting things to him. Finally, when he’s ready, he pushes his fingers inside you a few times and tells you that he knows that you are ready. Then he lies on top of you, spreading your legs until you think your hips are coming out of joint. Any moan, groan or gasp of pain you make is taken as a compliment because he thinks he’s turning you on. Finally, when your joints are stretched to breaking point and your breathing is restricted by his weight on top of you, he starts shoving it in.”
There was utter silence until Sam’s voice whispered:
“What’s it like?”
“Can you imagine being stabbed, time and time again, each one deeper than the last? You cry out in pain, but again he treats it as a compliment. The more you struggle for your very survival: to breathe, to stop your joints from coming apart or even to escape his breath, the better he thinks he’s doing. In the end, you try to utter words of encouragement while he slobbers over your neck, just to make him finish quicker.”
Everybody was now staring at Danni in shock. Many of the girls at school claimed to be sexually active and many apocryphal stories were bandied around, but this was no story. If the way she told it did not make it plain, the tears in her eyes sealed its authenticity.
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