Curriculum Vitae
Name: Rapist
Designation: Rapist
Work Experience: 7 years of successful raping.
Biography: I am a rapist. I have raped several women of
various age- some brutally, some easily and some with a lot of resistance. I
have also been part of gang rapes. I spearheaded the rape acts. Pioneering in
taming the prey and tearing apart her fragile resistance- I personally don’t
like raping the weak kind. The ones with a lot of agony interest me a lot.
I have never been arrested by police. But today I have lost
my ability to rape. No I have not aged. I am still ripe enough. I now stay in
an infirmary. I am writing my CV cum biography to apply for a job. Any job that
will help me escape from the everyday rape I undergo. You are amazed? How can a
prolific rapist be raped? Yes my future employer, it’s my duty to tell you all
the truth.
It was a December night, I was drunk. Sitting inside the bus
my basic instincts were getting aroused. I had raped a 27 year old call centre
executive a week back. I always believed that women are the best addiction. And
they are born to please men. Therefore by force or by fear they are to be
acquired. Well, sitting in the bus I was getting a bit restless. I once
contemplated visiting a brothel, but then I dropped the idea. The satisfaction
you get by taking a fresh thing is completely breath-taking. The bus was empty.
It stopped near a shack. The driver went out for some necessity. Just then a
girl of about 25 boarded the bus. I spotted my prey. After a while the driver
came back. I went to his cabin and shared my idea with him. He too had the chip
in him. Slightly drunk, slightly sex-starved he agreed after a bit of debate.
He gets his share when I’m done.
I went and sat beside the woman. She did not show any
reaction. All women use ignoring as a
weapon. I put an arm across her. She still did not show any reaction. I was taken
aback. I looked at her to verify whether she was a prostitute. No, she was not.
I held her hand and pulled her in a crude manner. She
offered no resistance. I was getting restless. I slapped her; shook her. She
flashed a smile at me. “What’s your problem you bitch? I’m gonna rape you right
now!” My intoxicated breath was swishing on her. She said in whispers “It’s
alright my son. You can take me. I’ll still pray to lord for your mercy. That’s
by default a mother’s duty. Some day you will realize you had raped your mother
so many times…In so many forms.” A chill ran down my spine. I noticed, she was
wearing a white tunic with a cross round her neck. She was a nun. I was
repelled, scared, and jittery. Her smile turned into laughter- Loud, cracking
laughter. “Come here, rape me. I’m no one to stop you. You are a rapist, son.
The one who has raped her mother. In every woman you raped, your mother’s womb
bled. But that does not mean your mum’s angry. She still is praying for you.” I
held her wrist, kept slapping her insanely. Her lips were bleeding, but her
laughter did not stop. The bus had halted by then. The driver had fled. I lost
my sense.
When I woke up I was in an infirmary. I learnt that a girl
from the nearby nunnery had brought me here in senseless condition. I dosed
off. I was in tremendous mental trauma. I kept dreaming of my deceased mother.
She passed away when I was only six years old. In my dreams her smile turned
into laughter and her lips bled profusely. I ran away from her. But she ran towards
me with stretched arms. I am undergoing meditation sessions. They say I need a
job. A laborious one. So I apply for it. Can anyone save me from my mother. She
rapes me every day. I want respite.
Yours’ faithfully
Rapist.
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