Why I Don't Write Rape Based Stories--Blogzilla
- By Tracy Ames
- Published May 31, 2010
Tracy Ames
My name is Tracy Ames. I’m an author of interracial erotic fiction. My stories are a sensual feast for your senses; mind, body and soul.
I began writing short stories for monthly newsletters and, believe it or not, my friends. After much encouragement, I’m ready to offer you a taste of what only a few have previously savored.
A native of the San Francisco Bay area, I currently split time between Greenwich CT & New York City with my husband, young daughter and a host of pets.
MySpace
Facebook
I received an email from a reader after posting “Getting Mine” wanting to know if I was, again, open to taking Reader Request for stories.
I replied no. “Getting Mine” was a fluke which happened to coincide with a reader request. If he wanted to submit a storyline or elements then that was fine and I may be able to work it into a story.
His reply was somewhat odd but then again I like odd people. He wanted to know why I don’t write rape based stories consensual or other.
My answer: I was raped when I was younger.
Okay, before you all Dr. Phil on me, understand that I took responsibility for my sexuality years ago. I decided to strip my attacker of his ‘rights’ to my body and emotional well-being. Under my control, I’ve risen above the pain and reclaimed my body and my sexuality as my own. It’s a liberating feeling, you should try it sometime.
I was sixteen when I was raped by my best friend’s older brother, we’ll call him Fred. It happened as BF slept in the twin size bed beside me. We were separated by a small nightstand, my bed being closest to the room.
I’ve always been a hard sleeper so when I awoke to Fred sucking one of my breasts I was in shock! We’d been raised as siblings. My then boyfriend was his first cousin and best friend. I was frozen with fear; he didn’t know I was awake, I didn’t move.
Here are the things that went through my head at that point in chronological order:
- I looked at the clock sitting on the dresser and thought “Damn, I missed Apollo.”
- How the hell am I going to it out of this?
- Johnny is going to kill him.
- I can’t believe this is about to happen.
People can say what they would’ve done in my position but unless you’re there, in the moment, you can’t predict your reaction. I’ve always been a bit gutsy when it comes to kisking the male butt (I have older brothers) however in that moment I froze. Absolutely froze. To this day I can’t understand why I didn’t scream immediately. Why did I lay there frozen? Why did it take him attempting to touch my ‘goose’ (my former nickname for my cooter) before I pushed him away?
I did or at least I attempted to push him away. Fred big, Tracy small.
In a moment of clarity I started fighting. He pulled me off the bed like a rag doll so my BF wouldn’t see what he was doing to me as there would be a bed shielding the attack from her view should she wake up. He covered my mouth very hard, slammed my head against the floor, disrobed me from the waist down (mind you, I’m clawing like a cat on speed and crying), pulled out his peter and tried to force it inside of me (no more crying, but I lot more clawing).
I couldn’t scream. My BF was cutting logs. My family was sound asleep across the street. Johnny, who played high school baseball, was at an away game. I was alone and helpless with a lunatic and his semi-hard peter (more clawing).
He kept trying to enter me—in the process he was bruising my inner thigh and goose. I recall feeling something I can only describe as sashimi. His peter was the texture of sashimi. I thought “gross!” (super sonic clawing).
He barely, if at all, got his head in and he came. His sashimi peter came on me. Before he stood, he gave the typical rapist warning, “Don’t tell anyone or I’ll hurt you.”
This, he didn’t need to say. I was numb. I lay there looking up at the ceiling, numb. The next morning I went home like nothing was wrong, showered and went to work. We were home schooled because we lived between three countries at the time…I say this just in case you’re wondering why I wasn’t going to school.
At the time I worked in Johnny’s mom's, Denise, hair salon. Remember, Denise is also Fred’s aunt. Anyway, the clients were gone so I told her what happened. Characteristic of Denise, she sat me down and talked about pregnancy and the smell of cum just in case I didn’t already know (I didn’t, I was a virgin). After our chat she called her husband who came flying home from work, and every parent she knew.
When Fred’s mother arrived she called the police and had them collect her son from school. From what I was told they handcuffed him right then and there. She cried her eyes out not for her son, but for me. She’d been molested and raped when she was younger. Fred knew the crap she’d been through and it was unfathomable, in her mind, that he would commit such a horrible crime against me of all people. How could she raise a son who would do such a thing to anyone much less a family member? She cried and cried.
She cried for me because I couldn’t…I didn’t…I don’t. Thanks to my mom, who's a shrink, I had the mental foundation already in place to cope with the aftermath of the attack. Trust me, I'm good.
He confessed to everything. He didn’t lie nor did he defend himself. I find it strange that I can’t remember the punishment he received. I do remember leaving for Germany shortly thereafter. I remember my brothers, their friends and Johnny and since then Greg kicking Fred’s ass. I remember my BF’s guilt for not saving me. And I remember the cum conversation with Denise because she said it smelt a little like bleach and years later when I smelled it I thought “Um, it does smell a little like bleach.”
But I don’t remember his punishment.
Years later he apologized. He still apologizes. He and his wife have two children and I often wonder if he ever told her about what happened.
Doubt it. He’s still arrogant and can’t stand people looking down on him. But we know.
So, long story short, this is why I don’t write rape based stories. There are plenty of other authors who do. I hope rape based fans enjoy their work because you'll never see me pen them.
Wow! This is the longest blog post ever.
I replied no. “Getting Mine” was a fluke which happened to coincide with a reader request. If he wanted to submit a storyline or elements then that was fine and I may be able to work it into a story.
His reply was somewhat odd but then again I like odd people. He wanted to know why I don’t write rape based stories consensual or other.
My answer: I was raped when I was younger.
Okay, before you all Dr. Phil on me, understand that I took responsibility for my sexuality years ago. I decided to strip my attacker of his ‘rights’ to my body and emotional well-being. Under my control, I’ve risen above the pain and reclaimed my body and my sexuality as my own. It’s a liberating feeling, you should try it sometime.
I was sixteen when I was raped by my best friend’s older brother, we’ll call him Fred. It happened as BF slept in the twin size bed beside me. We were separated by a small nightstand, my bed being closest to the room.
I’ve always been a hard sleeper so when I awoke to Fred sucking one of my breasts I was in shock! We’d been raised as siblings. My then boyfriend was his first cousin and best friend. I was frozen with fear; he didn’t know I was awake, I didn’t move.
Here are the things that went through my head at that point in chronological order:
- I looked at the clock sitting on the dresser and thought “Damn, I missed Apollo.”
- How the hell am I going to it out of this?
- Johnny is going to kill him.
- I can’t believe this is about to happen.
People can say what they would’ve done in my position but unless you’re there, in the moment, you can’t predict your reaction. I’ve always been a bit gutsy when it comes to kisking the male butt (I have older brothers) however in that moment I froze. Absolutely froze. To this day I can’t understand why I didn’t scream immediately. Why did I lay there frozen? Why did it take him attempting to touch my ‘goose’ (my former nickname for my cooter) before I pushed him away?
I did or at least I attempted to push him away. Fred big, Tracy small.
In a moment of clarity I started fighting. He pulled me off the bed like a rag doll so my BF wouldn’t see what he was doing to me as there would be a bed shielding the attack from her view should she wake up. He covered my mouth very hard, slammed my head against the floor, disrobed me from the waist down (mind you, I’m clawing like a cat on speed and crying), pulled out his peter and tried to force it inside of me (no more crying, but I lot more clawing).
I couldn’t scream. My BF was cutting logs. My family was sound asleep across the street. Johnny, who played high school baseball, was at an away game. I was alone and helpless with a lunatic and his semi-hard peter (more clawing).
He kept trying to enter me—in the process he was bruising my inner thigh and goose. I recall feeling something I can only describe as sashimi. His peter was the texture of sashimi. I thought “gross!” (super sonic clawing).
He barely, if at all, got his head in and he came. His sashimi peter came on me. Before he stood, he gave the typical rapist warning, “Don’t tell anyone or I’ll hurt you.”
This, he didn’t need to say. I was numb. I lay there looking up at the ceiling, numb. The next morning I went home like nothing was wrong, showered and went to work. We were home schooled because we lived between three countries at the time…I say this just in case you’re wondering why I wasn’t going to school.
At the time I worked in Johnny’s mom's, Denise, hair salon. Remember, Denise is also Fred’s aunt. Anyway, the clients were gone so I told her what happened. Characteristic of Denise, she sat me down and talked about pregnancy and the smell of cum just in case I didn’t already know (I didn’t, I was a virgin). After our chat she called her husband who came flying home from work, and every parent she knew.
When Fred’s mother arrived she called the police and had them collect her son from school. From what I was told they handcuffed him right then and there. She cried her eyes out not for her son, but for me. She’d been molested and raped when she was younger. Fred knew the crap she’d been through and it was unfathomable, in her mind, that he would commit such a horrible crime against me of all people. How could she raise a son who would do such a thing to anyone much less a family member? She cried and cried.
She cried for me because I couldn’t…I didn’t…I don’t. Thanks to my mom, who's a shrink, I had the mental foundation already in place to cope with the aftermath of the attack. Trust me, I'm good.
He confessed to everything. He didn’t lie nor did he defend himself. I find it strange that I can’t remember the punishment he received. I do remember leaving for Germany shortly thereafter. I remember my brothers, their friends and Johnny and since then Greg kicking Fred’s ass. I remember my BF’s guilt for not saving me. And I remember the cum conversation with Denise because she said it smelt a little like bleach and years later when I smelled it I thought “Um, it does smell a little like bleach.”
But I don’t remember his punishment.
Years later he apologized. He still apologizes. He and his wife have two children and I often wonder if he ever told her about what happened.
Doubt it. He’s still arrogant and can’t stand people looking down on him. But we know.
So, long story short, this is why I don’t write rape based stories. There are plenty of other authors who do. I hope rape based fans enjoy their work because you'll never see me pen them.
Wow! This is the longest blog post ever.
Spread The Word
12 Responses to "Why I Don't Write Rape Based Stories--Blogzilla"
said this on 31 May 2010 9:16:32 AM CDT
I know all too well you're feeling about rape. I was seven years old when my mother's friend's husband tried to rape in the downstairs apartment, but I fought like crazy. I bit his hand so damn hard I drew blood. The next week he robbed a junior food market and was arrested. I didn't tell my mother until I was 9 about what happened. I was so shame, so embarrassed. I hated even the thought of sex for a long time. As a child, naturally my sense of the experience was dwarped.
|
said this on 31 May 2010 10:00:05 AM CDT
Good the bastard got what he deserved. I can understand why you were ashamed but, as for me, I was never ashamed. I don't talk about it openly but if asked I will share my experience proudly. Did I provoke the attack? Nope, all of the shame and blame lie with him.
|
said this on 31 May 2010 9:55:35 AM CDT
Here is my three prong reaction:
1) *hugs* 2) Obviously his punishment wasn't sufficient since he had children. and 3) He should get his ass kicked every year on the anniversary of your violation. Looking for my happy place ... |
said this on 31 May 2010 10:11:35 AM CDT
LOL! I'm going to tell my BF to kick his ass every year. She'd love nothing more. What's strange is I came out of it better than anyone else. It seemed everyone around carried scars...even to this day.
My ex Johnny was never the same afterward...his relationship with women has been horrible at best (very protective). Two failed marriages...and this from one of the best guys I know. We're still great friends but his love life is a horror movie. |
said this on 31 May 2010 11:27:46 AM CDT
WOW! I 'm glad that at such a young age you were able to cope with what happened and not let it define you life and sexuallity. Fortunately, I have never been sexually assulated. But a very good friend of mine was moloested by her uncle as a child. I have seen how it's has effected her and her relationships with men. She definately still stuggles with it today. Much respect to you parents you giving you skills to cope so well in that situation . I agree with Lydia if the idots was still able to father childern then clearly his punishment wasn't hash enough! lol
|
said this on 31 May 2010 11:29:26 AM CDT
Tracy, thanks. I'm going to tell you and your readers something that only my ex knows. I too was raped, at 11yrs old, by my stepbrother. Unlike you, I KNOW I haven't dealt with it completely. No counselling as I didn't let my family know, as I felt really ashamed and to blame. You see, I think, can't remember a lot of that episode, I was flirting with him?, at least that's what he said?. I honestly don't know, but I do recall he grabbed me (he's 10yrs older) dragged me into the bathroom of his mother's house and raped me there. I recall unsteadily walking home with what I realised later was blood and semen running down my thighs. I've skewed the whole sordid abuse in my mind and that's perhaps the main reason I can't feel sexually attracted to and have never had a sexual relationship with a black man after being rape, although I certainly don't hate them, afterall, it was my stepbrother and not the whole black male population that abused me. I went into my first relationship when I turned 19yrs with my ex and he believed (like I did!), I was a virgin. He and I both were shocked to find out I wasn't and hence why he knows of what happened. I've obviously spent years before I met my ex convincing myself that I was a virgin and only confronted the truth of what happened to me after my ex and I got physical. Suffice to say, he never met my stepbrother, but that's because neither I (or my family) don't know where he is or even if he's alive.
So I too am NO FAN of rape in any stories. In fact I'm adamant that the author warns one of such so we're given the choice to read/purchase or not. I've made the mistake of once reading such a free read on another site, and had nightmares for weeks, finally having to drown my mind with weed and alcohol. Hope you don't mind me posting as anon. Feel more comfortable that way, but you know who I am. |
said this on 31 May 2010 2:36:04 PM CDT
Thank you for sharing. It amazes me how people can commit such violent acts and then move on as though nothing has happened. Meanwhile, the victims have to sort themselves out...we're left with the scars. Kerma is a bitch. Sooner or later they get what's coming to them...we, the victims, don't have to do a damn thing.
I too wish more writers would send up a red flag when a story involves a rape scene. They have to do done properly even when it role playing. Sorry to hear about your experience on the other site. If you need to chat you know where I am. :) ** I encourage everyone to comment, anonymous or not. Do whatever makes you feel comfortable. We're here to figure this thing called life out together. |
said this on 31 May 2010 12:21:32 PM CDT
I have a friend that is 44 years old and was molested by her older brother repeatedly in their home. He too threatened her, but she finally told her parents and other brothers and sisters and they basically put the blame on her. She didn't seek out counseling or anything, she started running the streets and had numerous boyfriends that just used her. Too this day she is marrried with 5 kids and the man she married is an abuser, but she will not leave him. It used to be physical but now more mental abuse.
This brother is now serving time in prison for having touched his girlfriend's daughter and has since apologized to his sister. If your attacker is married and has kids, his wife doesn't know. You are a very strong person, and I'm glad you didn't let that stop you from living and enjoying life to the fullest. All that would have done is let him win and no way could you let that happen. |
said this on 31 May 2010 12:26:53 PM CDT
Tracy you truly are amazing.
Lydia, if you find your happy place, do you have room for two? |
said this on 31 May 2010 10:40:29 PM CDT
WOW! Thanks you all for sharing your stories. If nothing else I can say that we talk ALOT on this site. To the folks that emailed me on the backend, join the rest of us. We don't bite...oh, Heidi, Crystal, Yves and Wanda bite but everyone else is cool. :) Oh Lydia and Carol nibble.
Going through something like this leaves cracks in you. And if we don't tend to those cracks the problem gets increasingly worse and impacts the way we deal with people...aka relationships. Wanda, your friend is a classic example. I wish her the best. I'm strong because I had a sturdy foundation already laid to cope with big problems when and if they occurred. Sadly, more folks don't. Crystal, be glad you've never had to go through it. *smh* |
said this on 01 Jun 2010 5:11:06 PM CDT
Lol! now come on I don't bite unless a guys asks me real nicely! Yes I know I have been fortunate and blessesd to have not been in that situation. I see how my friend struggles. The problem is her family basically has not really dealt with what her uncle did to her. They have never talked about it or taken her to get any kind of help. I tried suggesting to her to join a support group or speak with a pychiatrist. But she has so I don't really know how else to help her.
|
said this on 01 Jun 2010 6:01:48 AM CDT
well who could understand as it not happen too, but You're manage to feel more what we couldn't sometime so we have to learn from You like love could help to appreciate your way & more...of course like tired eyes...by reading...of course!
|