Traumatized Innocence

I was 12 at that time and I used to call him Birju uncle. He was an employee in my father's firm. Once I had overheard my father telling my mother that he had fired Birju Uncle due to some fraudulent act. But I just rubbed off the matter and went ahead with my idyllic childhood life. 

  One evening, my father and mother went to visit an ailing relative leaving me to my grandmother's care. I was playing outside my home when he came smiling at me and offered to take me out for a ride. He was always caring and friendly to me so I agreed readily. I sat smiling beside him and he started driving his car out of the duty on dark, desolate roads. He stopped at a local dhaba and offered me my favourite milkshake that I couldn't refuse. But a young and naive girl as me couldn't notice him slipping a few currency notes into the dhaba owner's hand and then stealthily doping my drink. 

  I innocently sipped on the drink as we strolled around. A little later, the dark roads began merging in darkness as the street lamps began to fade out. My head started whirling and lids dropped down.

"Something's happening to me, uncle!" I said as my legs swaggered. 

"You need a little rest, baby!" He said as he wrapped his hand around my waist.

And then he pressed me so hard to him that my soft, boobs squashed against his hard chest.

"Leave me!" Disgust overpowered me and tried to push him aside but the drugs subdued me and my head slipped down to his shoulder. "Ahhh...!"

He smiled at my helplessness and slipped his hand inside my shirt, and mercilessly groping my pristine boobs. My meek protest opposed me excited him and he pressed his lips on mine, thrusting his lust tongue into my mouth and grabbed me in a heinous, deep kiss. I felt a hand slip down inside my panty and rubbed against some sensitive part that I felt electrocuted. 

He lifted my semiconscious adolescent frame and slung me on his shoulder. He slapped my luscious buttocks as the dhaba owner's lusty eyes twinkled. He took inside the dhaba into a shabby room and threw me down on the bed. He quickly jumped on me and tied my hands on either sides on the bed. 

  Then he tore of unbuttoned my shirt and flashed a wicked smile as he stared my naked chest and engorged breasts. He grabbed them and feasted on my nipples. He gagged me to subdue my protests. Then he tore apart my shorts and panty and spread my legs on the bed. This time he attacked those sensitive parts with his tongue as I struggled to breath.

  Soon he pushed his organ into me tearing my young body apart and emptied out his vengeance of being fired. Later punched a sedative into me and dumped my unconscious body outside my home. When consciousness dawned on me I rushed back to my room. I was so shocked that I didn't dare to tell anyone. As I myself didn't understand much of what had happened to me that fateful night.

  It took me a few years to realise what his lust and vengeance had done to my innocence. And then I vowed not to let it happen to anyone else. Also to bring justice to the victims. Now I work with an NGO to save children from being exploited. Whenever I bring a scoundrel to justice, I feel that I have punished my own culprit.