Rats in the Orchard

                   Rats in the Orchard

I shiver in nauseous memory uncannily concentrated
When I espy the room where my body was violated
So many years of age and helpless anguish ago
Which to this day we remain the only two who know

He brought me to his lap to watch a movie on TV
A seat which became more and more uncomfortable to me
Taking advantage of my absent parental protection
We played a treacherous game of rubbing his erection

My hands obeyed as told and my eyes then opened wide
As he took out his toy but its size did not subside
Then on to a new game, he pulled down my underwear
I was rubbing his, so he rubbed mine too, only fair

His chilly, meaty fingers I protested with an ouch
But he said don't look and he bent me over the couch
Despite my trust in him, I cried as all pretense evaporated
And he thrust, as hideous a deed as was ever perpetrated

In the end he held me sweaty, whispering don't you tell a soul
I was in no mood to argue, his ardor having taken its toll
Well, time went by and though he only used me two times more
It scarred me with years of self-devaluation: tool and whore

Now I close my eyes and fervently wish his memory away
Can't he cum and go already? What is the delay?
He comes inside me to this day in nightmares of his rape
That was so many years ago and still I cannot escape


[auth note: inspired by "Stolen Purity"   by Lexi Ashen Married John Ashen ]