Her Friend's Rape  

Posted by H in ,

Yesterday G. came out in shock: A friend of hers had been raped.

It had actually already happened once before. She one called me while I was away, telling me one of her old friend had just been raped in a bar.
That was before I knew for sure she was working as a sex-worker, but it dawned on me rapidly after I learnt the truth that this "friend" was in fact a "co-worker", and that the "bar" was an hotel room set up for an out-call.

So the rape - which was still a rape of course, no denying here - was not the type you might picture, where a drunk guy would force a girl in some dirty alley. But the story is similar. An half-drunk guy with obvious problems to control his *desires*, who forced the escort he hired into a bareback session, and fucked her up the ass without her consent.

An escorting job gone bad.

G. was back then pretty shocked already, but she was more in shock because she had no clue how to react and comfort her co-worker. It had never really happened to her. Some have tried, like it probably happened to a vast majority of sex-workers, to force her in more or less subtle ways, to do what they wanted and she didn't want. But she always (as far as I know), to take control over them or calm them down.

Though I realized later she was also probably shocked because it might have been her. And I also realized at that point she might have been calling to tell me about her own rape, and not her co-worker's...

But yesterday, it's a (real-life) friend of hers who actually got raped the "typical" way, the one you'd imagine. The dark back alley type. The savage up-skirt fucking by an idiot, leaving you lying in the dust at 4 AM. That, and the second rape by the idiot's friend. Her friend was out there, just having fun and having a few drinks after work in a trendy bar in our area. We were actually supposed to join her but backed away because G. got a call for a job, and I was not really in the mood anymore to go out. (Yes, I feel realllllly fine now, thinking it could have been different, had I or G. been there)

But we didn't, and she was partying wth some friends, and hooked up with some guy during the night. They apparently ended up dancing and drinking until 2, and her friends left because it's a week-day and they all have to work in the morning. But she didn't, as she was enjoying her new partner-of-the-night's company, and thought things were going well. Around 3 things got handsy and they were heading out, to the guy's place.

And as they were walking towards what probably isn't his place at all, 3 blocks away from the bar, the guy became a bit too "handsy" and started to ask her to do things decency wouldn't really allow you to do on the street. Or at least not when you are *not* in the escort business, and have slightly stronger inhibitions.

She told him to back off and keep quiet, patience is virtue my friend, thinking he was just getting a bit too carried away but not thinking bad.

And he shoved her down the alley with the help of a friend who was following them - she thought he was just another person on the street - hit her and raped her. And then the other did.
No condoms.
The usual spitting on the face, to probably look more like the bad guys in the movies, which they already are.

And they left her wimping on the ground.

She finally managed to get a grip on herself 40 minutes away, according to the time she called the police. Officers were on the scene within 5 minutes, and brought her to the nearest hospital where she made a deposition while she was being taken care of.

That's apparently when she called G. for the first time, who at this very moment couldn't answer because she was busy doing what she does. She called her again when a police officer gave her a ride home after he finished his shift. G. went right from her client's to her place (and actually realized later she didn't really have any explanation for being dressed-up, wearing make-up and coming to her place within 20 minutes, tough she called her a after 5.30 AM... "Thanks" to the shock, her friend did not realize at all).

She felt miserable and couldn't talk much and kept crying in silence, and G. didn't know what to do. I called her around 6.30 AM to check up on her and she told me she wouldn't be home soon because a friend was having problems. No I cannot help, not right now, she's OK but can't leave now. Fair enough I said, we'll talk later.

And here she was 4 hours later, the one now silently crying in my arms, cursing all the johns, the punters, the rapists, her own father, me, each and every man on earth for that matter, and any God she could think of for making men and women different and insufflating us with these weird desires of ours, and those even stronger, darker thoughts hidden somewhere under our skins. These thoughts that allow sheep in wolves' clothing to tag along on an innocent night of fun partying and send it all to Hell.


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My Girlfriend is an Escort

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