Why I am the why I am 8

This is my story of Arizona. Money pills and rape. I was lucky I lived through this time. This was the most amazing time of my life. And I wasted it.

I would like to begin with saying how sorry I am about all of grammar and spelling mistakes. I do most of this with talk to text. And I will try to proofread more. Now on with my life story.

I left Nebraska. Headed to Arizona for no particular reason. Other than I liked the idea of warm weather. I had some experience under my belt so I was able to land a job with one of the big trucking companies.
I was sent out with my trainer named Roy. He was a great guy older. Nothing happened between us. I saw him looking hard. And even told him it was fine if he wanted a go with me. But he was married and said he could control himself. He was more interested in making money. And showing me how it was done.
The only reason I mentioned him is because he was the one who introduced me to my new best friend. A little white pill that kept me up for way longer than I should have been. And he gave me the blue pills to help me sleep when the white pills were still going strong.
It wasn’t long before I was driving by myself. Cross country. I started in Phoenix heading to LA. Then to Miami with a bunch of almonds. From there I drove to Texas and picked up cowhides to take back to Phoenix. It was a great route. Sunny days mostly. I was young and free. It wasn’t long before I knew what I could get away with.
My typical fun consisted of me stopping at a truckstop for the night. Watching the big rigs pulling in. Then picking up some guy to fuck.
Hey there Red Mack, you busy?
Who’s asking?
Bluebird, I’m in the blue Mac truck to your left. Just wondering if you had time to see me?
That was the typical conversation, followed by a nice fuck in the back of my truck. I should have been happy with that. But I grew bored or lonely, or maybe I was just so messed up in my head I couldn’t just have a little. Soon it was two or three guys a night.
Then I really kicked it in to high gear.
“Before you leave. I was thinking of trying something. I was hoping you could help me out. I used to get fucked while I slept. I know it sounds crazy. But could you maybe just wait till I pass out and fuck the shit out of me. Maybe find a few other men who want to go at the passed out whore?
“Fuck, that’s some crazy shit. But sure if you really want to.”
“ you don’t even have to stick around. Just make sure no one kills me. Or steals my tip jar.”
“ yeah I could do that. How many guys do you want to let fuck you?”
Maybe 5 or 6.
And so it started. That first time I saw kind of scared. I started to fall asleep and some guy I didn’t even know was taking off my shirt. I felt him biting my nipples and then I was rolling over. Someone was fucking me. Then I was rolling over again. My ass was burning then my pussy was stretching out way more than it should have. Someone was fisting me. He had his whole hand in me punching into me. I was pissing myself. Someone was cuming on my face. Then it was day light outside.
I rolled over and just looked up at the ceiling of my truck. My cunt was sore and aching. My asshole felt like twenty men had fucked it. And 20 may have. I had no idea. I just knew I had pleased a lot of men the night before. I had over 6 hundred dollars in my tip jar. I didn’t bother looking at myself. Other than my breast. Someone had used them hard. Bit marks all over them. It hurt to just pull my shirt over them. I walked out to take a shower and men were looking at me like I was a lot lizard who made way more money than she should have. I was walking like I rode a horse all night. My hips hurt with every step. When I finally made it into the showers I locked myself in. Stopped down and took a good look in the mirror. God I was a mess. Dried cum all over me. My cunt lips were swollen and red. My butt hole was still trying to recover. I sat down on the cool tile floor and touched myself.
“ I’m a dirty whore” I’m a dirty dirty girl. “
My fingers made little circles around my hard clit. I could the warm cum oozing out around them. I had one of the best orgasms of my life laying on that floor, calling myself a dirty whore. I sat up and smiled in the mirror. “ god you’re so fucking fucked. “
I showered and looked almost normal again.
Then I had a good breakfast, looking around at the men in the restaurant. I wondered which one of them had me. How many of them raped the sleeping girl. I smiled at all of them. I was getting wet just thinking about all of them fucking me.
I popped a few pills and I was off again. After a year on the road. I had a great routine. I knew where to stop to have my fun. Everyone in the office loved me. I gave out blow jobs like candy when I dropped off my paperwork. I sucked my boss while he was sitting at his desk. I crawled under his desk, pulled out his cock and bobbed my head. I made his fantasy come true. The next time I was in it was my boss and one of the finance guys. A few of the mechanics. I didn’t fuck anyone there. I would have if they would have asked. But it was just a little fun around the office. My real fun was out on the road. Fucking strangers. Drinking and popping pills. I don’t know how it didn’t happen sooner.
About three years into my little sex game I ran across a man I only knew as cunt buster.
I was just stepping out of the restroom when I saw him. Tall handsome. He had on some old camouflage pants. Short hair cut. I guess to him military.
“ so stranger. You looking for a good time?”
“ I’m always looking for a good time. Just pulled in for the night.”
“ me too. Your truck or mine?”
He smiled and we walked out to my truck. We got in and had a drink. I was pulling off my clothes before I bothered asking him his name.
Women just call me cunt buster.
“ I’ve had quite a few cocks. Let me see your cunt buster. “ I smiled and he wasn’t.
“ oh my cock it’s that big. I usually just use my boots. “
I looked down at his boots. He had on a pair of jump boots. Black leather boots with a large wide toe. I looked back up at him confused. My crotch was not confused at all. It knew exactly what he meant and second later. He had kicked me so hard I fell down with my hands between my legs wondering what the fuck just happened. He didn’t stop. He kicked my ribs a few times and I couldn’t even scream for him to stop. He knew exactly what he was doing. He grabbed my hair and threw me on my bed. He finished talking off my clothes while I was just laying there crying. He crawled up on my chest and punched my face a few times. Then the rape started. I was just hoping he finished quickly. I didn’t know he had other plans. He wasn’t that big in the dick department. But with my cunt swelling up he felt huge. Ever stroke was painful. It only lasted about 15 minutes but it felt like hours. When he was done I just rolled off the bed.
“ fuck me. What the hell did you do that for?”
“ oh you poor little bitch. I’m not done yet. “
He started kicking me again. My butt my cunt. My back He just kept kicking me. Af some point he had me on the bed again. My face down and my ass up. He was rapping my ass. I was so fucked up I was just trying not to roll my face through my blood that was pouring out my nose. My ass hurt. But so did everything else. I did feel him twitching as he emptied his balls in my ass. But I got no relief. As soon as he pulled out. He kicked my ass so hard I swear his boot must have been halfway in my asshole. I had my orgasm. A painful orgasm. I never felt anything like it. I pissed myself then the smell of shit was everywhere. I had lost all control of my self . I screamed. But not long. I grabbed my hair and started punching me again. I was down on the floor when he started choking me. I thought I was going to die. I started to fight back. But it was too late. He stood up and kicked me in my face and few more times and I was out cold.
Someone hit my truck that night and found me laying on the floor in my cab. If he hadn’t hit my truck I would have probably died there. I remember he asking me my name. Then I woke up in the hospital.
Three of my vertebrae were broken in my back. My neck was okay. That meant nothing was broken. It would have been worse if my head could have moved. My face was a different story. My cheek bones were cracked my nose broke. My jaw wired shut. I tailbone was broken my pelvic bone splitting two. Also wired back together. One rib punctured my lung. The rest just broke with every kick that psycho gave me. Yeah I was lucky to be alive.
I laid there for days before my boss found me. Everyone from the office came to see me. Those who could make the trip to Florida anyway. I was on my back for three weeks. Then other 5 months of physical therapy. During that time the cops had dropped my drug charges. My boss who was so sad about seeing me in my condition fired me. Told me I was lucky to be able to keep my CDL. About two months into physical therapy I was finally able to reach my brother. Dad had died. He sold everything and moved to Texas to work on the pipeline. So I had nothing to go back to. No Family no friends. Just so nice nurses who kept me alive and thinking about happy things like learning how to walk and how to Control my bladder again.
They never found out who it was who attacked me. I did find about a hundred different samples of DNA in my truck and ten or so different men were found in my cunt and ass. The detective did his best not to show the disgust on his face.
This was the lowest point in my life. Once I learned how to speak and eat. Once I got almost normal again. The hospital release me with a 400 thousand dollar bill. It wiped out everything I had saved. Three more years and I could have retired. But after Cunt Buster. I was broke and homeless with no job.
So I went back to Kentucky. I ended up begging Steve’s mom to let me stay there till I got on my feet again.
But I should probably stop there.
My whore life had almost killed me. But by the time I made it to Steve’s I was at least horny again. lol

A big thanks to Ass Ripper and Ben and Bi guy. Thanks for reading and commenting. I’m trying to keep up on my replies. It’s hard. I still work so I only have time to write every few days. You are so right. This writing does help me deal with a lot of the trauma.
Thank you all
Jen, Bluebird 517