Society had fucked Rita up. She didn’t want to be raped, of course. But in school she had been taught to dress modestly and unattractively to avoid being sexually assaulted. Her favourite lifestyle website ran stories like, “Too Ugly To Rape? Three Quick Tips To Make You Irresistible”, and “Is Consent A Turn-off? How To Get Him To Stop Asking.” She danced at nightclubs to songs like “Born To Be Used” and “Can’t Say No (With My Panties In My Mouth)”.

By the time she was grown, Rita felt insecure and offended whenever anyone looked at her without that look of lust in their eyes. If a man spent any length of time with her without molesting her, she felt the weight of her own failure heavily, proof that she was not pretty enough to entice him. Her group of friends mercilessly mocked girls that *asked* for sex, or consented to it – if you wanted a man, you just acted like a slut in front of him until he forced himself on you. Most of them had been fucked by their fathers and employers; they often pityingly asked her why *her* father didn’t love her, and offered her tips for performing better at work. 

By the time she had adjusted her attitude and wardrobe enough to be regularly raped, she barely recognised herself compared to how she thought she would grow up. The slutty fuckdoll in the mirror with no control over who accessed her cunt and when embarrassed her – but at the same time she was proud, that she was finally interesting enough to men to tempt them…


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