Timmy W., age fourteen: a boy from a wealthy family who was left with governesses from the time he was a baby. When he was just age five, the latest French nanny decided that she would have some fun by teaching him how to go down on her with his little mouth.
Glenda B., age thirteen: The girl who could only show her rebellion against a too domineering mother by becoming a full-fledged lesbian, including the clothes. Her favorite thing was to go after females older than herself and try to come off as a male
Billy D., age fifteen: The boy who ran away from home and took up with an older, black prostitute, because he felt that his parents were too bigoted against all other forms of society except their own. And the black hooker taught the boy all about color differences.
Pearl J., age fifteen: The girl who turned stripper in front of her father and all his friends because both of her parents refused to believe that she was growing up.
Kevin A., age, thirteen: A boy raised in a strict, religious home, but in a neighborhood that was changing to a majority of black and Puerto Rican welfare recipients. The boys and girls taught him the facts of ghetto sexual life, and then put all the blame on him when they were caught.
Tricia W., age fourteen: A girl from an extremely wealthy background, where sex was tolerated by the parents for their children, as long as they did it in the approved manner. To get more attention from them, she decided to change her tastes to somewhat more perverted ones.
Keith L., age fifteen, a boy who had a long record as a rapist which began when he was only thirteen years of age. His mother who hated men and said so, and his two sisters who were lesbians, made him feel so low about himself that he could only take to the streets to prove he was a man.
Tuesday J., age fourteen: A sweet young thing who left home because her parents didn't love each other the way she felt it should be. So she took up with some hippie kids who practiced so much free love that it included group sex, and sex between brother and sister.
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CASE HISTORY ONE
Subject: Timmy W. Age: Fourteen
INTERVIEW ONE
This young boy of a wealthy and prominent family in his state, had been expelled from several public schools. He was then sent to a private school that specialized in dealing with problem children by using a form of military discipline.
But he rebelled against this use of force against him even more strongly than he rebelled against his family life, and had several brushes with the law. Although the family was ashamed to admit that the boy had emotional problems, he was finally taken for analysis as a last resort, on the advice of his guidance counselor.
I think I always hated my parents a little. Every time I turned around, one of them was in Europe or someplace halfway around the world. There's not one time I can remember that I had the both of them around when I needed them. After awhile, I just stopped needing them, and started doing a whole lot of stuff on my own.
It's their own fault that I've been getting into such trouble. The two of them just shake their heads and tell everyone, that they just can't understand why I'm turning out so bad when I've had all the advantages. Well, between you and me that's a crock of shit in plain English.
Maybe you can just call it my way of protesting absentee parents. They aren't any different from their friends, but I think the other kids put up with it because they're too stupid to know any better. I'm the only one that has the guts to do anything about it at all.
If you're going to tell me that I could have done it in a less violent manner, don't bother. Because I've heard all that before. I'm just doing things the way the adults do. All you have to do is pick up any newspaper or watch TV, and you'll see that adults protest in just the same way.
So what's good enough for them is good enough for me. That's the way I see it. They don't -even know what happened to me when I was six. You can see by that that I was never very close to them, even in those days. And I've never thought of telling them, even to this day.
I will tell you though, since that's what I'm supposed to be here for. If they bothered staying home with me a little more, especially while I was such a young, innocent kid, then I might not have gotten started that way. What kind of parents would leave a kid that young alone with a brand new governess that they hardly knew anything about?
Maybe I ought to tell you how it went. I have a hunch that you'll be on my side when I'm through. She was this Frenchwoman, and didn't even speak much English.
I wonder what she would have done if we had a fire or something? Anyway, she did speak enough English to get me into a whole lot of trouble. Marie was only in the house a week, when my folks decided to take off on a European cruise and leave me behind with her for six weeks.
Not that it mattered how long they were gone. It didn't even take that hot bitch six days to do me in. I'm sure my dad must have hired her for that terrific build, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had checked her out in the sack before he left.
That's the reason why we're always getting new servants in my house. My dad fucks them all around the house, and when they start asking for something in return, he throws them the hell out. If he had stuck around long enough, he probably would have gone through this one before she got a chance to do anything-to me.
Marie had good references from this French family that my father knew through business. I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew how she did in the sack with his friend. I'm sure that neither one of them thought to find out if she was responsible enough to take care of kids.
As it turned out, she thought nothing of fooling around with little boys, or little girls either, for that matter. She used to look at me with this queer expression whenever she was giving me a bath, and when I had temper tantrums for what my folks were doing, she would cuddle me real tight-too tight.
For the first couple of days, whenever the other servants weren't around, and we were alone in some part of the house, she would grab me up off the floor and hug me in such a way that her hands always landed on my little ass. She would squeeze it so that it felt like she was only playing, but the palms of her hands would slide all around back there, whenever she thought that she could get away with it.
At first, I just took it for her being a little more affectionate than the ones I had taking care of me before her. I guess I don't have to tell you, that a kid who has parents always leaving him, really can use affection, even if it comes from a paid servant.
Right from that first sneaky hug of hers, I found myself hugging her right back, and when things got especially affectionate, something which she seemed to get too much of a kick out of, now that I think about it, I would get little rewards. She had all these cute little toys stashed around the house, and she was always bringing them out from her hiding places.
You know something? That's just the way I trained my dog! Whenever he learned one of his tricks, I would give him a reward. She really was a rotten bitch, setting up a kid like that. And there I was, going after it, just like a puppy.
By the end of that first week, I was even following her around like a little puppy. And one day, I followed her into the bedroom. I'm sure now that she planned it that way. Because it was a little early in the day for what I was supposed to have caught her doing, by accident.
By accident, as I said. She just happened to be getting out of her uniform. And she wasn't wearing any bra. Once in awhile, I used to see my mother walking around in a slip and a bra. So I knew what a woman was supposed to have on under her clothes.
As soon as I saw those bare titties, I couldn't help walking right up to her. And I couldn't help staring right at them.
"What are those things?"
"They're called breasts."
"I don't have them."
"That's because you're a boy. Boys have other things that make bumps in their clothes."
"I like those things."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I like them a lot."
"Would you like to play with them?"
"Is that allowed?"
"Well, it really isn't. But I'll tell you what. If you promise to be a really good boy, and not tell anyone, then I think it will be all right if you play with them."
"Oh, I promise."
"All right then."
So she sat down in the rocking chair, and I climbed in her lap, just the way she liked me to. It seemed perfectly natural for me to put my hands out and try to play with the new toys that she was offering me. But just before my hands actually touched her, she grabbed my wrists, and stared into my face with this very serious expression.
"Remember, this must be our secret."
"But you said it was all right."
"It is, but I do not think that your parents will feel the same way I do about it."
"I don't like them anyway."
"Good. Then it will be fun to have a secret that they won't know about. Now, won't it?"
"I'll never tell them. Not even if they torture me."
"You know what? You're such a good little boy, I am going to give you another thing to play with, too."
"Hey, neat!"
That other thing that she was giving me was her cunt. She pushed her cunt right up against my little bottom, as she slipped her panties down her legs. That's when I really started to stare. I had learned my lesson about the difference between boys and girls firsthand.
"You don't have a long thing like mine." "No, and I don't have two little balls under it, either."
"How do you pee?"
"There's a little hole in the middle of this furry patch."
"I can't see it."
"Come a little closer then."
I had to scrunch up in the chair, and get on me knees so that I could get my head looking in the right direction. And all the time, I was moving around on her naked body, she kept sighing and moaning all over the place.
After that, once I got a close look at that furry little cunt of hers, I got so caught up in it, that I bent my head all the way down, with my nose just about touching it. I saw this little crack in there, and I wanted to know what it led to.
"Do you pee from there?" "Yes."
"But where does it come out from?"
"If you get even closer, you'll see."
"How can I get so close inside?"
"Did you know that even grown-up men like to get their heads way down there and even use their tongues to play around in the slit?"
"That's not true!"
"Yes, it is."
"Then I want to do it, too."
"Okay, just put your face all the way down there. First you can just rub it around to see how nice and soft it is."
"Oh, that's nice. Just like my teddy bear. Only warmer. Can I play with it some more?"
"All you like."
"What can I do next?" "Do you kiss your teddy bear?"
"Sure, because I love him."
"And do you love me?"
"Uh-huh."
"Then you can kiss this soft pussy just like teddy."
"Can I call it pussy, too?"
"Yes, you may."
"Good. I love you, pussy."
And it was so soft and warm to me that I did love it just like one of my favorite toy animals. So I kissed it just like I did my teddy bear. The warmth of it was so nice and cozy, that I didn't want to take my mouth and face away from there.
The hairs were all crinkly against my nose and I started to munch on them. Marie sighed, and her voice got all husky. I felt her hand on the top of my head. She was rubbing and pressing it down more, all at the same time. I could tell that she liked what I was doing.
"Stick your tongue out now. Why don't you lick it around in there? Especially inside the slit. You might be surprised at what you find."
By then I was so happy with what I was doing, that I would have gone all the way down and dug around even if I didn't have her permission. Actually, I had more than that. She was begging me to do it.
"Spread the lips. Now go all the way inside with your tongue. Oh, now, that feels so nice."
I was using my little fingers at the same time I was digging around in her cunt. I found the hole, all right, and I couldn't help working my fingers in there, and wiggling them around. I wanted to find if there was anything in there. Somewhere along the line, I found this little button on the top.
Whenever I touched it, it moved. And then it started to get bigger and bigger. I wanted to see what would happen if I licked it, so I tried that too, and the damn thing swelled even more.
Then, before she could say anything to stop me, I put my little teeth on it, and munched.
"Oh, you naughty little boy. No, don't stop. Do that some more. How did you know how to do something so wonderful?"
So there I was, happy as could be, licking and eating at that wet, warm thing. She kept on making her little suggestions, and I did everything she wanted me to. For awhile there, I couldn't tell which one of us was happier.
Then all of a sudden, something happened in there, and my mouth and tongue got all wet with this warm, sticky stuff. I couldn't tell where it was all coming from. But I guessed that it was coming from a peehole, someplace inside, in the dark, where I couldn't see.
Only it didn't smell like pee, and I couldn't figure out what it tasted like. It tasted strange, not bad, not good, just weird. But, I didn't really have a chance to figure out that one, because I was too hung up on all the sounds she was making.
She was moaning and groaning. And some of the sounds she was making were like somebody had hurt her. I wanted to get my head out of there, because I was scared I had done something terrible to her. But when I tried to move, she clamped down on my head with both her hands.
This time, she pressed me so far down in there, that I couldn't breathe. My mouth was pressed flat open all the way inside that gooey hole, and my nose was pressed in so tight that it felt like it was going to break. And then, the smell in there had gotten hotter, kind of sweet and steamy.
I thought I was going to die before she finally let up on my head. Then I was too tired to get very far away. So I just lay my face down on her thigh,, and gulped air. Pretty soon I felt her hand stroking the side of my face, just the way she did when my folks went away, and I was doing a lot of crying.
"That was superb."
"What does that mean?"
"It was wonderful."
"Then why were you crying."
"Oh, that wasn't crying. Don't you ever feel so happy sometimes, that you make little squealing sounds?" "I think so."
"My sounds were because I was much too happy just to be laughing. It was more than our usual sort of fun."
"Then you're proud of me?"
"I certainly am. It will be several weeks before your parents return from their trip. If you are a very good little boy until then, we can do things like this whenever the other servants are not around."
Then she gave me a special toy that I had been wanting for a very long time. She must have asked the cook to pick out just that one. I felt like she was a cross between Santa Claus and the Good Fairy, and I couldn't have been happier if she had trotted in a whole string of ponies.
As happy as I was with the present, she really didn't have to give it to me, because I thought the toy I had been playing with until then was just as wonderful as any in a store.
INTERVIEW TWO
I guess I don't have to tell you that every day after that, I woke up thinking of ways that I could be especially good and please her so much that she would take me into her room, and let me play with that toy of hers again. It was funny how she overlooked small bad things that I did, and it wound up at the end of the day that I was the best little boy in the whole world. She never found a thing wrong with my behavior in all those weeks that my parents were away. And I got my reward every night before my bedtime.
After a few days, when she was satisfied that I had learned all the little tricks she wanted me to do, when I was licking her cunt, she would have me play with her titties, and lick on them, too.
I couldn't have been happier. Whatever she asked me, I did. And I loved every second of it. My toy chest was getting pretty full, too.
I could push most of my hand into her cunt, and play around in there as much as I liked. And I could lick all over the front of her body, which I did a lot of. I was very happy with all that.
And then she went and spoiled it all. One day, when she was laying naked on her bed, she turned over on her belly, and got up on all fours, kind of like a dog. Then she turned her head and told me to lick her ass just the way I did with her cunt.
But I wouldn't do it, after I got my nose in there. I didn't like the way it smelled.
"I don't like it. It doesn't smell so nice." "You do it anyway." "I won't!"
"We'll just see about that."
Then she pulled down my pants, and started to spank me. But no matter how hard she hit me, I still said that I wouldn't do it. Finally she got a belt out of my father's closet, and started to whack me with that, and it hurt something awful.
I was so scared of getting hit anymore, that I promised to do whatever she wanted. So she got down on her belly again, and had me crawl up on the bed behind her.
When I started licking, I saw her put her hand under her cunt, and start to play with it, just the way she liked me to do. I kept on licking, and even when she told me to stick my tongue in there, I did as I was told. I was afraid not to.
By then, I had learned that when she got all moany and shaky, that she was through with me. So I kept on going until that happened, and when it did, she fell down in a heap on the bed. For a couple of seconds, she didn't even seem to know that I was still in the room.
So I ran the hell out of there, and into my parents' bedroom, because it had a lock on the door. She came running after me soon enough, and threatened to tell my folks that I did some terrible things to her, if I didn't come out.
So I did, but only after I warned her that I would say she beat me something awful and made me do those things. After that time, I would run and hide a lot whenever I thought that she might make me do the stuff I didn't want to. It was licking her ass that I didn't like.
I hid from her for a couple of days. But she was smart. She knew that before too much longer, I would get to miss licking her cunt and her tits.
And that's exactly what happened. Finally, I stopped hiding and started being a good boy again. She knew what I was hoping for her to say, but she waited and waited.
I was the one who had to ask if I could come to her room and play with her. She asked me if I would lick her ass again, and I started to run away. So then she said that I could only do her front if I wanted to.
I guess that she was missing it, too. Because she never forced me to do anything that I didn't want to after that. And I was happy to have my little face in her cunt again. But I was still pretty angry at her for giving me that beating, and making me lick her ass.
A couple of days before it was time for my parents to come home, I started planning my revenge. I know that she didn't expect me to cause her any trouble, because I kept on going to her room, until the very last minute before the limousine turned into the front driveway.
And then I ran sobbing, right to the door, and told my parents how she had beaten me every day, and made me do some terrible things. Of course, she denied it all, but when I described what a cunt looked like, and what happened to her tits when I sucked them, they knew it was the only way that I could have found out stuff like that.
Well, my mother fainted. But that didn't impress me very much. What my father did was really great. His face got all red and purple, and he made his hands into fists and went after her. She screamed and went running to her room, locking it before he could get to her.
All the servants came running when they heard him pounding on the door. The butler finally talked him into leaving her alone, until she had time to pack and get out of there.
I still wonder if he was so mad because she had done something sinful to a baby like me, or if he was mad because he wasn't the one who got to do it to her.
At any rate, it was worth my mother fainting and all that racket, because for six whole months after that, they actually stayed home with me most of the time. That was the first time that I could remember getting up every morning and peeking into their rooms to see occupied beds, and when I went to sleep at night, they were both there to tuck me in.
That's when I got the idea that all I had to do to keep my parents from going away and leaving me was to be in some kind of trouble. Then it was September and I was to start kindergarten.
I had a new nanny all that time. She was old and gray-haired and very nice and polite to everybody. Actually, I liked her a lot, and felt very safe with her. But she wasn't as much fun as the French one.
They decided that I was in very good hands, and they went off and left me alone again. I guess they figured that between all the new friends I would be making and the kind, gray-haired nanny, I would go back to being a normal, healthy kid.
But I knew a lot more than the other kids my age, and I didn't really want to play with them. Especially the boys. I acted very snotty and told them I knew a whole bunch of stuff they couldn't find out. Pretty soon, I was the most popular kid in the whole class, because they all wanted to know my secrets.
When my birthday came around, and my parents were out of the country, as usual, my nanny took it on her own to make a birthday party for me. It was going to be out in the back under circus tents. And we had a clown and all kinds of great stuff.
That's when I decided that I was going to put on a little show of my own. It wasn't easy because there were servants all over the place. But I told them that we wanted to play hide and seek. Then I whispered something into the kids' ears, and they passed it along.
When the time came for us to run and hide, we all went into the little wooded spot that marks the ground between our place, and the one next door. Then we all met right in the middle, and I told them I was going to show them the tricks my other nanny had taught me.
Only one of the girls was willing to take her clothes off, and I grabbed her. Then a couple of the other boys didn't want to be left out, so they did the same thing. The girls were kicking and screaming a little, until they saw that Marcia, the one I had, thought that it was fun.
So they lay there quietly, too, and waited to see what I was going to do to her. When I spread her legs, and started licking all over her little cunt, they all gathered around and started to stare like crazy. I did a little staring myself, because I expected to see a hairy thing down there.
But it wasn't hairy, and it smelled different. A lot sweeter. When the boys saw how great I thought it was to be licking her like that, they decided to try it. And the girls could see that Marcia thought it was pretty terrific herself. So they spread their little legs, and pretty soon there were half a dozen or so of us going at it like that.
Little kids don't know much about being afraid, and we weren't especially sneaky either. I think we just wanted to hide because little kids like to keep secrets.
Not one of us thought how long we had been hiding, or that any of the servants would come looking for us. But my nanny had taken care of lots of kids in her time, and she had a hunch that we couldn't be up to much good.
She had not been told what the previous nanny had done to me, so she was only guessing that we might be doing something naughty. When she came back there, and caught the whole bunch of us, her face went as gray as her hair.
She picked me up by the back of my neck, knowing that I was the ringleader, because the teacher had told her how I was always bossing the other kids around and beating up the little boys. The other servants came around and helped the kids get into their clothes, while I was dragged to my father's study.
That was the only time that she spanked me, and it was a real dilly. I cried and cried. But I knew better than to threaten her the way I did with the other one. I really didn't want her to keep it a secret from my parents anyway.
They would be able to find out what had happened from the kids and the other servants, and know that it wasn't her fault. I didn't want her to be blamed because I wanted her to stay and take care of me forever. But I think even at that age, I knew that my parents would be very worried about the way I was turning out.
I'll say this much for them. Whenever they were around, which wasn't very often, they seemed to be really concerned for what was happening to me. And it is true that I had the best of everything. I know that it must have been a big sacrifice for my father to hire a woman that he couldn't fuck. So he must have loved me enough to give that up.
And they were very, very worried. My father thought about giving me a beating. But my mother wouldn't allow it. She took me in her lap, and cried all over me for a long time. And the two of them talked about what they were going to do to me right over my head, like I didn't speak the language or something.
They talked about sending me to a child psychiatrist, or maybe a special school for disturbed children. But my mother wouldn't have it. She was too ashamed for the other families. Not that they didn't already know that I was a lot different from their own kids.
But the parents were sure to keep it quiet. They didn't want the names of their own kids getting into the picture too. They were talking like that for a couple of hours.
I kept nodding off, and then waking up again, still in my mother's lap, and they were still talking. About the only suggestion I did not hear them come up with, was the one that they would stay home with me, and never leave again.
So if they loved me, and I think they do, it still only went as far as they didn't have to give up any of their own fun. Only when they felt so very guilty that even they couldn't live with it, did they ever stay with me. But it never lasted very long.
That's why I think I've been getting into trouble ever since. There are many times when I can do my stuff and get away with it, but I don't. Sometimes when it's over and I've been caught, I think to myself that there could have been a better way, and nobody would have been on to me.
I'm not dumb, but I guess you know that from my school record. Even though this is the sixth school that they've put me in. But they're not dumb either, and that's why I don't understand how come they haven't figured out what I want from them yet.
Every time they would find a stricter nanny for me, or give me more rules to follow. And I would just do worse things. And when they kicked me around from one school to another, and finally to this one, which is just like a prison, I know that I have to do something about it.
As soon as they think that somebody finally has control over me, they take off. And the only way that I can get them back again, is to get into some more trouble. It's finally gotten to the point that I don't much care what kind of punishment I get, as long as it winds up that they fly back home as fast as they can get here.
Maybe they are wise to me after all, and they just don't want to do it. Because I managed to get into a whole bunch of sex trouble when I was still going to public school, and they wouldn't come home until the principal said that he would call in the police. But you know how many times they had caught me with girls by then? Four times!
Not that I wasn't caught a whole bunch of times before that. I think that I've been caught with my tongue up a cunt at least twice in every grade. And it was never the first time that I did it to one of those girls when they caught me.
Because, you see, I always managed to get girls who wouldn't tell on me. Not that I wanted it that way. I was getting a lot of kicks out of eating them out even before I got anything physical out of it for myself. And then, when I started to notice how hard and aching my prick would get, I would want to do it even more.
As soon as I was old enough to come, I would whip it out and jerk myself off while I ate the girl out like crazy. And they loved it so much that they never wanted to tell on me, even the ones that didn't want to let me at first.
Even when I would have to beat them up a little, to make them take off their panties, they would come back for more of the same treatment again and again, promising that they wouldn't tell on me. I guess they didn't understand any more than I did, that I really wanted to get into trouble. Even I didn't understand until lately.
I think that if that French woman had not taught me how to eat cunt, I would have only found some other way to get into trouble. Maybe bust some windows or get into fights with other boys. Not that I haven't gotten into a few brawls in my time. But that was only when I couldn't find a girl to do. My way of protesting is a lot more fun than theirs.
They have me down as a sex offender now, because I wouldn't tell them how I got started. When you have money, they don't put you down as a juvenile delinquent. It looks like rich people would much rather have their kids called sick or weird, than hardened criminals.
I suppose it's a lot more elegant, as my mother would put it, to have your kid called weird.
Then they can put it off to being rich and spoiled, or troubled by all the suffering humanity around us. That's exactly what they say when they have their friends over for bridge and cocktail parties, and they do get a lot of attention for having a kid with my kind of reputation.
When the men hang around my Dad's study and smoke their cigars, they make the sly little comments like I must be growing up to be an oversexed stud like my father. Or it must be that I'll use my energy to be a real playboy and business tycoon when I grow up.
My mother's people will sit around and say how they can't understand what happened to me when I have all the advantages. And they feel so sorry for the poor woman, like she gave birth to a kid with inborn defects or something. And my father's people are just about envious of him for having a boy that's turning out to be an ace stud.
But not one of them really understands why I'm doing all this. Until the school psychiatrist forced them to pay attention. It's the best break I've had even though I hate the place otherwise. Because now they have to listen, to him and to me, since they're paying plenty for it. And they have been warned not to leave the country until you say it's okay. I hope you aren't in any hurry.
CONCLUSION
Timmy was indeed a very bright young child with his "B" grades, even though he was out of class, or in trouble during the major portion of every school season. And his understanding of the motivations for the trouble that he was constantly in only further proves this fact.
He was also a very incisive child, seeing aspects of himself and his parents that they chose to be blind to.
At first, they wouldn't even accept the advice of their child's analyst that they be with him and supervise his activities as often as humanly possible thus showing that they were extremely selfish individuals.
But when they were told outright that it could be proven that they were directly responsible for any further delinquent behavior, they began to come in for analysis as well.
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CASE HISTORY TWO
Subject: Glenda B. Age: Thirteen
INTERVIEW ONE
When this young patient came in for her first interview, the doctor was startled at her appearance. Her hair was cut not only short, but in the style of a boy, complete with the semblance of sideburns. With small breasts at the outset, she made them appear to be even smaller by taping her chest across with strips of sheeting.
Even her walk and her mannerisms were like that of the teenage male tough, but when she began to tell her story, there were many times when she cried. Just like a girl.
Funny, how you adults all wear that same stupid look on your faces. Didn't you ever see a dyke before? Or didn't you expect to see one who's only thirteen. Oh, so you think it's unusual for a kid my age to get into this so heavy. Well, maybe your other patients don't have a mother like mine.
I don't mention my father, because I don't even know who he is. I think that my older brothers do, but they've never told me. I never even saw a picture of the guy. All I know is that he's supposed to be that father of the three of us, and that his name is Jim. But I can't even be sure if that's the truth. Not with my mother.
She's fucked around with so many men, I'm sure she doesn't even know how many. That's how much of a slut she is. Maybe that's why the old man left, if there ever was just one for any length of time. He probably never knew if he would have room in his bed when he came home.
And that's not all that's wrong with her. Although I'm sure that would be more than enough for any mother. It's the way she treats my two brothers that makes me want to throw up my guts.
She treats them like a pair of princes. They even throw their underwear and smelly socks all over the floor, and she gets down on her hands and knees to pick them up.
As for me, she wouldn't even care if I was wearing any. That's just why I don't. At least not the way that she does. For years I'd been stealing jockey shorts out of their drawers and wearing them, just to show them they're not so special.
Is that where I got started? Maybe. All I do know for sure is that between her and that long line of men with hard-ons, that were always hanging around the house, and the way she kissed my brothers' feet, not even caring if I was alive or not, I got sick to my stomach a long time ago. And I've been sick of it all ever since.
I can't even remember a time when I didn't want to teach her a lesson. It was just that I really didn't know how to do the best job of it until a couple of years ago. Then it was one of her own lady friends that turned me on to it.
She didn't really pay much attention to what kind of women they were. As long as they knew enough men to pass a few on to her, they could be her best friends. A couple of them even taught my brothers how to fuck, and she knew all about it.
But that didn't stop her from having them hang around the house whenever they wanted to. In fact, she thought it was kind of cute that the two of them became what she calls men from freely being with her friends. I can't tell you how much I hated these broads, even the one that turned me on.
And after she was through with me, I nearly beat her face in. I've been as good, maybe even better a street fighter than either one of my brothers, even since I was old enough to get into a fight with them, and win. That old bitch never thought about touching me again.
The only reason I let her do it in the first place was so that maybe my mother would catch us at it, and I could laugh in her face. The old hag was drunk as anything when she suggested it to me, and I felt it was a great way to show my mother that I didn't need to spread my legs for every prick in the world the way she did.
Funny thing, though. This bitch wasn't even a dyke herself. She was just so boozed up in the head that she didn't care what she did for kicks. She told me that she did it a couple of times at parties for cash bets, and she thought it was kind of fun.
Ever since then, she would sometimes get in the mood for a taste of cunt, when she was drinking. That time, I happened to be around when she was in the mood, and nobody else was. So I was it.
We didn't do any kissing or shit like that. That's what I mean when I say she wasn't really a lesbian. She didn't even touch my body any place. All she wanted me to do was take my panties off and spread my legs.
I didn't see any harm in that, since she wasn't asking me to do anything. So I lay down in the middle of the floor and spread my legs real wide. She just crawled right in between them, and started to lap away. It was the first come I ever had, but I don't remember seeing her get anything out of it.
Oh, she moaned and carried on a little. But she didn't touch herself, and I didn't hear her make any sounds like she was going to come. All she did was laugh her fool head off when it happened to me. And after it did, she picked herself up, got another drink and promptly passed out.
What woke her up was me, beating up on her face with my fists. I don't know why I did it. I really wasn't all that mad at her. I think it was just because she was my mother's friend. If I didn't get a chance that time to make a fool out of my old lady, at least I thought I had made a fool out of that bitch.
But my thinking about that started to change a little while after it happened. When I realized that it was one way that I could get some kicks and be as different than my mother as any girl could be, then I started taking the lesbian bit seriously.
Even that wasn't enough for me, though. I also wanted to make my brothers pay for thinking they were so smug and superior, just because they had balls.
And I figured that this was the perfect way, because I was going to show that I didn't go crawling after pricks the way my mother did, even with them.
I wasn't even twelve when I started making it with chicks. But there were a lot of older girls around who dug on getting their cunts licked, even from another girl. At first, I didn't have the guts to go right out and proposition them, so I worked out this game where they would go after me instead. It was easy.
Whenever I was in the girl's room in school, and that was a lot of the time, I would open one of the stalls, which all had the locks broken by men. Then I would just stand there, and stare at their cunts.
It was the greatest fun when I would catch one of them with a finger in there. Then I would stare and lick my lips, and she would get all angry. Some times, they would stare at me kind of funny.
Then I would know that I had one. They would yell at me to go away, but I wouldn't. Finally, they would grab me and drag me in there with them. If one started to beat on me, all I had to do was say that I would do anything if she wouldn't hit me.
Before I knew it, I was on my knees and eating her out like all hell. After awhile, I could tell which ones would be interested in getting eaten from the looks on their faces. When they pulled me inside, I would get right down on my knees, and go straight to it.
When you're doing anything were girls are involved, the word gets around even before you're finished doing it. And with this kind of stuff, well! The time was when I would stand there in the girls' room, and they would come looking for me.
Sometimes I had two or three waiting while I sucked the first one off. And I was still growing. Now I'm taller than a lot of girls fifteen and sixteen. Of. course I'm a whole lot stronger than they'll ever be.
Usually I don't have to be strong. I never came across a girl that couldn't be talked into having her cunt eaten sooner or later. But whenever I came across one who was fucking around with guys, I usually got rid of them fast. There weren't too many, though.
But this past year, when even the girls in my own grade have started fucking around, there aren't too many cherries. So I have to take what I can get. And when I have one that's been going with a prick, I try to teach her the same lesson that I learned.
That they can do damn well without them. Look at me. I won't ever let a guy touch me, and I get more kicks than all of them ever will.
There's a lot of stuff you can do without a guy. And there's a lot of stuff you can use instead of one. If she's one of those that digs on having her cunt filled with a little more than my tongue, then I have a good supply of junk I can use.
And you'd be surprised how many of them have their own stuff hidden around their rooms. All kinds of junk. Me, I thought I tried it all on myself. But some of the girls that I've been coming up with lately can put me to shame for coming up with new ones.
One of them was using the end of her hair brush, and sometimes she would use the bristle part of it to rub across her clit. Another one could get the most part of a telephone receiver into herself. Can you figure out that one?
I didn't believe that one either, until I saw her do it. And then I tried it on myself but I couldn't get it in until I had frigged and frigged. Then I was good and hot, and I'll be damned if the big thing didn't slip right in. Maybe that's because I stretched myself with a whole lot of junk before that. I know that she did too.
Somewhere around the time that I tried the bit with the telephone, a freaky thing began to happen to me. I started to get hung up on using stuff on those girls. Don't ask me why. It just happened.
Oh, I still dug eating them out, but I never asked any of them to do it to me. Maybe it's just that I dig on always trying new things. Whatever it was, once I got the idea into my head of using stuff when I was with them, I just kept on going with it.
Sometimes I would frig myself while I watched them use those things, and when they got their rocks off that way, I would dive right in there, and start to eat them out. After awhile, I decided that I liked the taste even better when there was already some come in there.
And for all that time, that I was telling you about, I never got hung up on anyone. Maybe I wasn't too young for sex. But maybe I was too young to have a crush on any of those girls. I didn't even give it a chance to get serious, and I kept moving around a lot.
And then summer came, and I started to get a little nervous. All those girls would be going to the beach, and they would be allowed to stay out late on most nights of the week. That meant that they would be spending a lot more time with the boys.
I think I only came across one girl that was really going to turn out like myself. And she was fifteen, and didn't have time for me once summer came around. Then she was off to someplace with those dykey older friends of hers, and they wouldn't take me along.
So I started hanging around in this part of town where all the hippies go. And there were also a lot of gay boys and girls hanging around there. Most of the places down there, I was too young to get into.
But I seemed to be able to get in and out of the coffee houses, without being asked a lot of questions. My mother didn't care how I cut my hair, and once I got dressed the way I am now, I guess the other kids in there couldn't tell how much younger I was than the rest of them.
I would say that the youngest outside of myself must have been around fifteen, but then, if they couldn't tell with me, maybe I couldn't tell with them, either.
Anyway, I was really too shy in the beginning to talk to anybody. For about the whole first week, all I did was hang around there, and watch the way everybody talked and what they did. By the second weekend, I had it all down pretty well.
So I knew that between my clothes, and what else I had picked up from them, they wouldn't mind me getting a little closer. And I was right. They all talked to me right off, and I made a lot of new friends there, just like me.
They weren't all gay, but they all hated their families for one reason of another, so we were all pretty close. The ones that were gay let everybody know what they did, just as easily as the straight ones, so I didn't mind talking about all that myself.
I think that's why I got away with my age so easily. It sounded to me like I had as much experience with girls as some of the ones that were five years and more older than me.
So you can see how I got on with them pretty tight, right from the first. Only I still just hung around and didn't think to try making it with any of them. I suppose I would have sooner or later, but none of them seemed to be in the market right away.
I just figured they all had someone, and it looked like the older girls didn't do as much running around from cunt to cunt as I did. At first I thought I might have to hang around all summer, until somebody shook loose and then I would be available.
I had to wait a month or so, and it was the longest I went without the taste of cunt in my mouth since I got started. Don't tell me that I'm freaky for feeling this way. But whenever I have to go without cunt for awhile, I feel as horny as a boy would.
And don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about, either. First I think about it, then I dream about it, and before too long, I have to do a lot of masturbating all the time thinking about some of the girls I've used in the John.
So Jennifer came on the scene, just in time to save me. She was the most beautiful girl I ever saw, and I think I fell in love with her right on the spot. Jennifer was seventeen, but she didn't seem to care anything about age. And would you believe that she never made it before with a lesbian, either.
Maybe that's why she's the one that I'm the proudest of. Because I was the one that got to knock her off, and when I did, she still wanted to hang with me.
Even though she knew right from the start that I was a dyke, she didn't mind talking to me. The whole gang was talking about all sorts of stuff, and I picked up that she had a boyfriend somewhere in Viet Nam.
It should have bothered me, but this time it didn't. I was sure that she had done some fucking around with that guy, but as long as he was out there getting himself shot at, I figured that he might as well be dead. Besides, there wasn't much I could do about what happened before I got there.
But that first night, all we did was talk. Not that it didn't mean anything. It meant a lot.
Because I noticed that whenever it was her turn to say something, she always looked to me to catch what I was thinking. And whenever I was talking, she hung onto everything I said.
I think I got the idea that I might be able to make it with her way before she even thought about me as anything except one of the gang. But she sure was interested in me, even if she didn't know it yet.
Some of them asked her if she would be back the next night, and she said she wasn't sure. But I decided to hang around there, anyway, just in case. I remember that it was rainy and miserable, and most of the place was deserted, and I was sitting at our regular table all alone.
It made me feel weird, and I admit that I was kind of scared. It's easy to be brave in a crowd. And I wasn't even sure why I was still hanging around there after a couple of hours, and it looked like she wasn't going to show. I just didn't want to go home.
There wasn't anything to go home for. All I ever found there was one of my brothers making it with chicks that they were bringing home from all over the place. And if they weren't there, you can be sure that my mother was with her latest in that long line I was telling you about.
Sometimes, there was so much going on in that house, that it stunk of sex. I swear it did. You could smell it as soon as you opened the front door. I wasn't in any big hurry to go back there.
So there I sat, staring at the four walls of the coffee house, and wishing that something would happen. I had already given her up, and I would have even settled for one of the guys, just not to be sitting there all alone, when Jennifer walked into the room. I was so busy feeling sorry for myself, that at first I didn't notice she was there.
She must have walked up behind me on tip toe. I felt her lips kiss my. cheek, and I actually creamed in my jeans. I'm not ashamed to tell you that. No one ever got to me that way. And maybe no one else ever will.
Am I too young to say a thing like that? I know that I still love her, even though she won't have anything to do with me, now that her boyfriend's come home. He's supposed to be some kind of a hero. I guess I can't compete with a hero.
But for that summer when we were together, I was so happy, that I didn't care if he was coming back, even when she told me that she was sure he would. She was just mine for the whole summer long. I can still remember that first night we were alone, just like it was yesterday.
"How come you showed up?" "I was lonely." "Oh. For your boyfriend?" "Yes, and for you, too." "That's shit."
"No, I mean it. I don't know why. I was just sitting at home feeling sorry for myself, and I thought about you. It's working already. Just being here with you."
"I could make you feel even better than this."
"I know what you're getting at, and it doesn't turn me off. But I think of you more as my friend. Isn't that enough?"
"Not for me, it isn't."
"Does it have to be that way?"
"Please don't turn me down, Jennifer. I want you so bad."
"I don't know."
"Afraid you might get to dig it?"
"No, it's not that. I know that I could dig the sex. I dig all kinds of that stuff, and it doesn't matter where it comes from."
"Then what matters?"
"I don't want to dig you."
That's when I knew that I had her for sure. She was the real hippie, if you know what I mean. They can fall in and out of relationships, but while they're in, they're really in to the end. I got to dig on that as soon as I started hanging around that section of town. That's why it didn't floor me when she said those things.
Not even when she told me that she had been living with the guy, and invited me to go to that very same pad with her. The idea of going into a bed that she had fucked around in with that soldier of hers should have kept me away. But I would have followed her anywhere she took me, even if I had to crawl all the way there.
But I didn't have to crawl. She was old enough to drive, and she had her boyfriend's car. For awhile there, it seemed like his ghost was still there, right over my shoulder everywhere I went with her. But once I was alone in that pad with her, and it looked like she really had eyes for me, I wouldn't have cared even if the real body was there instead of just the ghost.
INTERVIEW TWO
Anyway, once I was out of that place, and in a car going over to her pad, I began to feel a whole lot more like myself. And I tried to come on even more butch than I really was.
Since I knew that she had been living with a guy, I just felt that she would dig it more if I came on strong.
Even when we were on our way driving over there, I put my hand in her lap, and tried to feel up her cunt. She didn't push my hand away, but she looked at me and asked me to wait until later, when she had made up her mind. She said it to me so softly and sweetly, that I had to do it, even though I was itching to go on playing with her.
I knew that if it was really bugging her, she would have pushed me away instead of asking me so nicely, and then I started to get all shivery and cold in my belly. I never made it with a girl like that before.
It was always just for kicks, and I had made it into such a game, that I never had cold feet about it. There was never any kind of a relationship involved. Now I had gotten myself into something where I would really have to talk and come on all kinds of strong.
I had to do all that shit like making a good impression, saying all the right things so she would like me, and then get her to like me so much that I could do anything I wanted to with her. It was too much like being a guy, and I wished I could back out of there for a couple of minutes. I mean, she was years and years older than me.
Anything I said might have sounded silly to her, or she might have thought that I was just plain dumb. I also could have come on too strong, too dykey and killed it with a straight chick like her.
Man, I was so scared that I didn't know which way to turn. But Jennifer fixed that up. That's why I still love her so much. She just treated me like a friend, and it didn't matter what kind of thing I had between my legs. She was pretty relaxed with me, even though she knew damn well what I had in mind for the rest of the night. And I started to relax with her, even though I wanted her real bad, and both of us knew it.
When we got there, I was feeling a lot better, but my hands were still shaking, and I put them in my jeans because I didn't want her to know how nervous I was.
The pad was okay, even though it wasn't anything to cream over. But for two kids who didn't have much money, and Jennifer was going to college, they had it fixed up pretty nice. Jennifer took out a bottle of wine that she said she had been saving for a special occasion, and opened it for just the two of us.
She made me feel all grown up, and really on top of the world. She was even serving me treats and stuff, just like she must have done with her boyfriend. That's what gave me the guts to make my try for her.
The wine and the way she was treating me, well, I forgot about how much older she was, and decided to make it like I had seen some of the older dyke in the coffee house do with a chick. She already knew what I was, so I figured I couldn't go too far wrong.
As it went, it turned out that everything I was couldn't be more right. It took me a couple of drinks of that wine to have more guts than fear, but I finally got it all together, and made my play.
"I was waiting there for you."
"Somehow, I thought that was why."
"Don't I scare you?"
"I hope not. I would never do anything you didn't want me to. Never hurt you like-" "Like a guy would? Is that what you were trying to say?"
"I'm sorry."
"That's all right. I think I'm beginning to understand you already. Why do you hate guys so much?"
"I don't hate them exactly. I just don't have any use for them."
"That's strange. I mean, I can really dig on why some of those other girls go gay. They're a little over the hill, or they're young and ugly. Or maybe they're not too bad, but their guy did them wrong. You're too young and much too pretty for any of that shit. I just can't believe that you're a dyke. Are you just trying it on for size?"
"No, I know that this is the way I want to be, and I've known it for a long time. But there is something that I would like to try on for size. In fact, I would love to."
"Are we back to that again?"
"I can't help it, Jennifer. You don't know how much I dig you. I did as soon as you walked into Chico's."
"Then why can't you just be happy to be here with me?"
"Because being here with you means all the way as I see it. How else can I show you what you do to me."
"Oh, I get it. And the way to do that is by showing me what you can do to me in return."
"That's the way it works with us girls."
"Doesn't sound too bad when you put it that way."
"Want to try it out?"
"All right. But nice and slow."
"That's the only way I can."
"How come?"
"Because I'm so scared."
"You really are beautiful. Do you know that. You're less of a dyke and more of a person than you think you are."
"What did I do this time?"
"You were just your real self, and that is beautiful."
Well, after she got through saying all those beautiful things to me, I just had to kiss her. And it came about so nice and gently that neither one of us was scared.
She seemed to be happy enough with just that. But for me, it was just a tease, and I wanted so much more from her. Jennifer had turned me on so much that I was just crazy for her. There was no way I was going to stop with just that one kiss. If she threw me out, so she threw me out. But I could never go home and face another day with those three creeps they call my family, if I didn't at least try to make it with Jennifer.
She was sitting back in her chair then, and I was on the arm of it. Jenny looked very peaceful and leaned her head against the back. So I leaned over her face and started to kiss her again. I wanted to get my tongue into her mouth so bad, because I had never kissed a girl that way before. I wanted to see what it was all about.
But as soon as she felt me trying to get my tongue into her mouth, she pulled her head back. Not very far, just far enough for me to get the idea that I was pushing a little too fast.
I got some other ideas on my own, though. It was pretty clear to me that she was turned on, even a little maybe, but still turned on. And she wasn't teasing me either. She just wanted me to take it slow with her.
It wasn't easy, but since I could see that it was the only way she would go with me, I forced myself to slow down. Here I was spending half a summer learning how to act all grown up and real butch, and she was making me play it like a little girl.
It wasn't easy, but I tried it again. I slipped down on the chair with her, so there was no way we couldn't cuddle together. I could get my arm around her without a squawk, so I let it go at that for a little while, and we talked about a whole bunch of junk.
Then I tried to kiss her again, and this time she let me put my tongue in her mouth. And when she kissed me back, it was a whole lot better than anything I could have done on such short notice.
If she was only doing it to tease me, and still thinking that she could stop me from doing anything more, she had another think coming. Because a gang of guys couldn't have stopped me from going down on her after that. Nobody stopped me, especially not Jennifer.
"Would you get undressed for me, Jen?"
"Would you go home if I said no?"
"Uh-uh. I would stay right here until you got so sleepy that you had to get out of your clothes. And then I would follow you right over to that bed, and get into it with you."
She sighed then, like she was giving up the fight. And then she stood up and got out of her clothes. I was so hot as soon as I saw her naked, that I got down right on my knees and started eating her out before I had a chance to get out of my jeans, and take her to the bed with me.
I had wanted the whole thing to be so perfect, but then she got me so hot that the chair was as far as I could go. I
had myself a good sniff of her hot cunt, and that freaked me right out of my head. So I started eating her like crazy.
As great as it was with all those girls in school, that was just fun and games compared to Jennifer. With her, I felt like I was really making love. And she was acting so much more like a woman, than they did. She even made me feel like one.
Even though I was supposed to be playing the dyke, and I was eating her out of her head, along with mine, she still made me feel like a woman. That's the part I just don't understand.
But right then, I kept on eating her until I couldn't see straight, and she shot a load that put all of the girls together to shame. I lapped up every bit of it, and when she lay back panting and moaning, I used my tongue to clean up all the come that was left on her cunt.
I had never seen a cunt with that much hair on it before. And the come was all sticking to it. I loved it so much down there, that I licked off every drop.
When it was over, we sat around and talked some more, and then she asked me if I wanted to stay the night with her. Of course I did, and I never wanted to go home again, if I could get away with it.
And I did for another month before school started. Jennifer promised that I could stay with her for the rest of the summer, as long as I told my mother where I was so there would be no hassle. So while she was at her job, the next day, I went home and packed my jeans.
Jenny never said a word about the way I dressed all the time I was staying with her. Not even about the stack of my brothers' jockey shorts that I had brought with me.
She just asked me if I told my mother, and I said that I had left her a note. It was the truth. She never asked me what the note said, and I never told her. All I had written on it was that the three of them could go to hell on a flying carpet.
You see, I thought that I was never going back there. I set up housekeeping with Jen, and we shared all the chores. After awhile, she got so deep into the lesbian thing that she kept asking me if she could turn around and try out that stuff on my cunt.
But I never let her. I knew that it would make me feel too much like a girl, and I was afraid of that. I still am. Now that I'm back home again, it's even worse.
When soldier boy wrote that he was coming home in a couple of days, I split quietly, not wanting to give her any trouble. Now that she's gone back to him, all I do is cry.
Now that isn't much like a dyke, is it?
CONCLUSION
Since Glenda had come in for therapy to a free mental health clinic, it was not necessary for her mother to know anything about it. At the girl's request, she was never told.
Glenda was able to continue therapy for several months, and understood very well that all she was doing was out of resentment for the kind of home in which she had been raised.
Since then, she has begun to think a little more about what she does, and pays more attention to her school work. Although she has calmed down in her lesbian activities quite a lot, it is still very doubtful that she will ever give them up completely,
* * *
CASE HISTORY THREE
Subject: Billy D. Age: Fifteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Billy was a run-away. He had been picked up by the police several times as a vagrant, and finally taken into a youth detention center when he was found to be living with a black prostitute who was some twenty years older than himself.
His job with her was to run for her fixes, and hang around in a small back room to threaten the Johns with a knife if they got to be trouble. For this he got room, board and all the sex he wanted from her.
I hear they got me into this place right under the line. I was only fourteen and a half when they picked me up, and as far as they were concerned that made me a little kid.
So I get to talk to you instead of doing hard time at that detention center. That's okay with me, because they said I could go free if you told them I could get my head together. There ain't much else they can do with me, because they still don't know my last name or even what state I came from.
And that's the way it's going to be, even with you. The kids have a saying that none of them can be found as long as they don't want to. Well, I'm one of the kids that never wants to be found. Not by those people, and that's for damn sure.
I don't care if I have to walk the streets for the rest of my life, just as long as I never have to go back there again. Those people are just too much, and I could never stand living that way, not for another minute.
It was bad enough when I was still living there. But now that I've been out for a while, and I can see that I was right, I won't ever go back there again. I've seen the world like it really is now. And I got all this from living with Sara. Before I got caught up with her, I roamed the streets by day, and stole to keep myself in a little bread and food by night. That's what most of the kids did.
Oh, I'm supposed to tell you why I ran away. That's the question that all of the adults keep asking us. Well I ran away because I came from a Wasp kind of home. Do you know what that means?
It means that anything that isn't White Anglo-Saxon Protestant ain't no damn good in their books. And that leaves out just about three-quarters of the whole world.
That's what I heard, ever since I was old enough to understand what they were saying. Jews are no good, Catholics are worse. But the worst of them- all was the Blacks.
Even Puerto Ricans were worth more than Blacks, and to them PR's weren't worth shit. I think the only reason they had them one step higher was because they didn't even know enough about that group to have the right names to call them.
That's probably why I took up with Sara in the first place when I left home. It got so bad around there, by the time I was past my thirteenth birthday, that I had to get the hell out before I flipped out of my head.
I was just at the age when all the kids were starting to have parties and stuff like that. Only I wasn't allowed to go to any that didn't have the right kind of kids attending, and weren't being held in the right kind of homes. And I could never bring anyone home from school, not even to work on a project, unless the kid was just like us in every way.
But the schools in our area have changed a lot since they were kids. And they were talking about moving someplace else, because they said they didn't like how the element was changing.
I had this real good buddy in school and we could have done a lot of great stuff together. But he came from an Orthodox Jewish family, and he had these long sideburns. Once they saw me standing outside the school with him, and they said that he looked like some kind of a freak. They made a big point of saying it loud enough that he had to hear.
That was the last time that he talked to me. And he wasn't the only friend that I lost because of them. But he was the last. That was the day that I packed one suitcase in the middle of the night, and then I split.
I wasn't planning to do it. At least not at that time. So I didn't have a chance to save up much money. And I couldn't even get to my savings account because they didn't trust me enough to let me have it in my own name alone.
When I made it to this city, all I had in my wallet was a ten dollar bill. And it lasted exactly one and a half days. I was cold, and hungry, and I didn't have the price of even the cheapest room.
It's a good thing that I don't have much trouble making friends. Because I got in with this crowd right away. I'm sure you wouldn't approve of them, and I know for sure that my folks never would. That's probably why I stick.
At first I wasn't all that crazy about them either. They were dirty. Some of them were on the hard stuff, and they wanted me to get high with them. But at least I was the only Wasp in the crowd, and that was the way I wanted it to be.
Every single one of them was what my parents would have to call the lower elements. And I wanted to be just like them. I was willing to do almost anything. And I did say almost.
Because I refused to get turned on to drugs. When a bottle was passed around, I would drink as much as any of them. But no pills, no smokes, and for sure nothing that was packed inside a needle.
There was one other thing that I did get turned on to. I got turned on to kinky sex, and I got turned onto it in a real big way. That's a habit that I don't ever want to break.
You may be able to keep me away from Sara, but I'll just go out and find somebody else. And she will probably be Mack as the ace of spades. If I can't find one of those right off, then any one of what you call your average minority will do just fine.
Maybe I would have gone on a while longer in the streets. Sleeping in the park and on doorsteps isn't all that bad until it gets cold. I'll say this much for your city. When winter blows in here, it doesn't fool around. I got one night of those chills out on a doorstep, and I knew that I had to find myself some other action in a hurry.
Most of the kids were asking around for the same kind of thing. Some of them had set-ups. I was invited to move into this one place with about five of the others. But I wouldn't go there because I knew that they were using it as a shooting gallery.
How long do you think I would have lasted in a place like that? I could stay away from the stuff on the streets, but when you have to live with it day and night, I knew that they would get to me sooner or later.
So I kept on the streets for as long as I could stand it. One night, when it was starting to snow, and I knew that I was going to freeze my ass off, I huddled into the doorway of this run-down tenement.
Most of the people who passed me on the street were part of my own scene in one way or another, but a little better off in the bread department. So they didn't give me any trouble. I got a few invites to go up to some places, but it looked like all the places I was offered to crash in were shooting galleries.
If they weren't they were already crowded with runaways from the year before. And then Sara came walking by. She was trying to get rid of this John who wanted her to take a beating so he could get his jollies.
When she told him to find a hooker who dug on that kind of stuff, he started beating her on the side of her head, just to give her a sample of what she was missing. I couldn't make out much of what was going on, until they passed under a streetlight in front of the doorway.
I got a good look at her then. It was easy to see that she was a hooker, but she didn't look cheap in anyway. Her face was beautiful, like those African women that you see in the travel movies.
She was tall, black and very elegant. At that time of night, and the way she was dressed, I couldn't tell that she was on the stuff. All I knew then was that she was black, a hooker, making her even lower to the world, and that she was in trouble with a white John.
So I came out of there with my fists flying, and even though I'm still on the skinny side, I'm a damn good fighter. That's one thing that my father gave me. He thought boxing lessons was the gentleman's way of self-defense.
I had surprise on my side too. The John didn't figure on anyone coming to help a hooker. So I got him with two good punches, and he turned tail and ran. Sara was so grateful to me for what I did, that she asked me to come inside for something hot and a place to stay, if I wanted to spend the night out of the cold. To me she looked like an angel from heaven. Who ever said that there can't be any black angels?
I think I would have gone with her no matter what color she was. But the fact that she was Black only turned me on even more. It was like everything I ever needed and wanted all standing there under that street lamp.
But I admit that her being black was dynamite to me. I never did any thinking about hookers, especially since the word was never even mentioned in my home. The only time I ever heard it was when one of the seniors in school said that he had gone to one.
Well, a Black hooker in the worst part of town had to be as low as anyone could be according to my family standard of living. And since I was out on the streets in the first place because I had to get back at them for being such damn hypocrites, this was the perfect set-up for me.
I know this sounds stupid, but I didn't think about fucking her. All I cared was that I was going to be out of the snow for the night, and I would probably be getting a hot meal for myself.
So she told me that her name was Sara, and since I didn't have a place to stay, I was welcome to stay with her for as long as I wanted. But I had to stay hidden whenever she had a John up there. I felt a little guilty that she was feeding me, and letting in her sleep bed with her.
I wanted to do something in return. That's when she came up with the idea that as long as it seemed like I wanted to stay, I could earn my keep by seeing that she didn't get beat up. Sara said that it happened to hookers lots of times, when they didn't have a pimp or a boyfriend around to look out for them.
But at first I wasn't either one of those things to her, and she said that it was okay with her. And get this. That very first night I didn't even think about fucking her.
Not that I didn't sleep with one aching hard-on that night. I had never even been that close to a female before, much less one that was a grown woman, and a good lay for sure. We had soup and hamburgers, and I had a hot bath. By that time I was so beat that all I had to do was sit down on the edge of the bed and I was falling out.
Sara had to help me under the covers and I fell right asleep. But during the night, I could feel her hot black woman's body next to mine, and when she turned on her side, I could feel her big tits, or her bush pressing against my skin.
I can't tell you how bad I wanted to touch her, but I was scared shit to try it. Maybe if I had been with a broad before I would have had a little more guts, but not much. Because she was still so different from anything I had ever dreamt about.
That was about the only time that all the stuff I had heard about blacks made me stop and think. I guess it's one thing to talk brave, but when you're laying there right next to a black cunt, I gotta admit that it does scare you.
Maybe five or six times I found myself wide awake. My hand was right on my prick, and I almost started jerking off like crazy before I remembered where I was. That was the freakiest night of my life.
The whole thing was spent going back and forth between wanting to make it with her and being scared shit to even touch her. And then it was morning, and she woke me up with a kiss.
"Hey, white boy."
"Mmmmm?"
"That hard-on of yours is digging into my back."
"Ooopps."
"It's okay. I would have been insulted if you didn't have one. What I can't figure out is how you stayed like that all night."
"I didn't know if it would be all right."
"You think a hooker don't want prick if it ain't paid for?"
"Maybe you didn't want to be bothered after work."
"Now isn't that sweet. But I want to ask you something. Ain't you ever been with a woman?"
"No. Not even with girls."
"That's what I thought. Come here to Mama."
That's all there was to it. And that black cunt really flipped my head out. After laying next to her all night, and I4 years of hating everything my folks ever said about people like her, I forgot all about it being my first time. I guess I was supposed to be shy and nervous, but I forgot about all of that shit too.
I was so hot and horny, and she was so hot and sexy, that we went at it like I had been her lover for about a hundred years. But when it came time to put my prick into her, I froze.
"That's okay. I'll tell you what. We can try something else first. I know you haven't done this either. But it might help you, and me too, to get, let's call it acquainted." "Whatever you say."
"Okay then. Why don't we try a little sixty-nine?"
"How do you do it?"
"We can begin with your getting the taste of my body in your mouth. Go ahead. Kiss, lick suck, anyplace you want to."
Well, she didn't have to ask me twice. I went after that sweet black body like a bee to honey. When I turned to her now, she pressed her body very close to mine, and when she took my mouth to hers so she could kiss me, I could feel her stiff nipples pressing against my chest.
Man, let me tell you. It was all I could do to keep from shooting right then. And when she kissed me, her tongue did all kinds of tricks and turns in my mouth. Whoever her Johns were, they sure did get their money's worth with her. I'll say that to anybody.
By the time she let my head loose after a kiss like that, I couldn't help but go wild with her body. I kissed all over her face and neck, and when I found my hands going crazy on her breasts, I decided that I wanted a mouthful of them too.
I sucked away like crazy, and I think I would have stayed there. But we had kicked off the covers, and she saw my hand on my prick.
"Hey, none of that."
"Can't help it."
"You need to keep busied."
"These tits taste so good."
"I got me something that will taste even better."
"You mean your cunt?"
"Are you ready to try it?"
"I'm ready to try anything."
So I started kissing my way down again, and when my nose started to smell that cunt heat, I went right out of my head. She didn't have to tell me what to do then.
I spread the lips of her cunt with my hands, because I wanted to have a good look inside. And then the smell got to me, and I pressed my nose in there to get a bigger whiff of it.
And then that wasn't enough for me either. I found I wanted to taste every inch of her body. First I licked all around the outside of her cunt, and the kinky hairs that she had down there tickled my nose.
"Stick your tongue inside."
She had said it so softly to me, that I thought that the words were coming to me from out of my own head. I opened my mouth, I stuck out my tongue, and I started to eat her out like the muff-diving champ of all time. It just came to me naturally.
But she didn't let me stay down there for very long. I felt her twisting around and taking me along with her. I'm still not sure how she did it, but there we were on our sides, and her head was right between my legs. I opened my eyes to see what was happening, and I was very glad that I did.
I can't tell you what it did to my head, to see that black face buried between my white legs. Then she took my prick into both of her hands, and stuffed it right into her mouth. Then she started to suck on it, and I couldn't figure out what happened to her teeth.
I was sure they were still in her mouth, but I was expecting them to hurt my prick, and they didn't. You could never call what she was doing to me hurting. It was more like the greatest pleasure there could be. At least it was because I didn't know anything else yet.
And I wasn't going to find out that morning, either. Because she kept sucking me and I kept eating her. Then I popped a whopping load right in her mouth, and my body shook all over. But I kept on eating her all the while it was happening, and pretty soon after that I tasted her come for the first time.
I was sure that I could have gotten it hard again in no time flat, and I was really hot to fuck her. But she took one look at the clock on the wall and told me to get lost for an hour. There was a John coming for one of his regular appointments, and she wanted to clean the place up and change the sheets. Would you believe that she had a different set of sheets for the John that she brought up to the place.
That's why I never felt dirty all the time I was with her. I never had to sleep on another man's come. And those nice middle-class businessmen were fucking her one after another, and their pricks were rubbing in the stains of the guy who was there before them.
She'd wash too when the night was over, and she figured she had made enough bread, and didn't want to bring any more upstairs. I got back in time to hide in the small storage room like we made up, and I was to watch through a peephole that we made, to be sure that the guy wasn't going to get away with anything that he hadn't paid for.
Sara had given me a quick run-down of how much she got for different kinds of fucks, and how much for blow-jobs and all the other shit. Any guy who wanted something else when she was through with that, was supposed to lay down the rest of the bread before he got it.
If he started to get rough with her, or turned out to be in the mood for beating her, which was definitely not on her list, she would tell him once to bug off. If he didn't after the first time that she told him, I was to come out of there with the knife in my hand.
I never had to use it, which is a damn good thing. Because even after spending all those months on the streets, stealing and all that other shit, I still don't think that I could cut anybody.
There were a couple of times when I had to come out of there and make a flying leap for the bed, and pull guys right off of her. Some of them couldn't keep it up, or maybe they shot before they even got into her.
She told me that was the reason they came to hookers. They were trying to work out their hang-ups before they tried to make it with a decent woman. And when it didn't work with the hooker either, they would take it out on her and want to beat her up.
A lot of guys figure they can get away with anything they want, once they lay their money on the table. Sara took her share of beatings, and then she told herself it would never happen again. For a while she kept a gun, but she got busted once and they found it.
And then she had me. So she said that her life was finally starting to get together. I would spend a lot of time in that room watching how other guys made it, and after a few days, I could tell which ones were good, and the others, just what their hang-ups were.
But then in the afternoon, she would disappear and I would not be told where she was going.
INTERVIEW TWO
After about a week of that, I was starting to care for her in a big way, and it bothered me that she was doing something I wasn't to know about. I guess I didn't want to think that she. was on the hard stuff, because I did see the track marks and I never put it together with her disappearing.
When she came back she would send me on some errand to the market or shit like that. That must have been when she shot up. Well, one time I came back too fast because I didn't take enough money, and I caught her at it.
It just made me so mad to see her shooting that poison into her body. So I did the one thing that she really hated. I started smacking her around. She went crazy, and the next thing I knew, she was coming at me with that knife. I thought she was going to kill me.
But what she did was grab my balls right through my jeans. And she told me that she would cut them right off the next time I picked up a hand to her. I tried talking to her about the "H" after that.
There wasn't any way I could talk her out of using the stuff. Sara said that it was the only way she could handle the way she was living. She had tried getting off it a couple of times, and never could.
And if I was worried about her getting busted, I was to run for the stuff myself. They would never think of looking me over, because I was too healthy and innocent looking. So I wouldn't be pegged for a user or a runner.
She was right, just as she was with everything that had to do with the streets. I never got picked up on suspicion. Once or twice when I was still sleeping in the streets, I got picked up as a vagrant. And then I got busted when I just was hanging out at her place.
Turned out the John she had brought up was a vice-cop. And that's how I wound up here. But before that happened, she trained me to be one of the best pets a hooker could have. That's what she said I was to her.
According to her, I wasn't her pimp, because I wasn't allowed to go out and get business for her. And I wasn't her boyfriend because I wasn't allowed to beat her up.
What I was allowed to do was take good care of her, and fuck her whenever she was in the mood. So I was her pet. She could have called me anything she wanted for all I cared. At that time I figured that I had it all made. Other guys who had come to the streets at about the same time were still stealing, and they all got busted for it sooner or later.
Which isn't the same as being busted for a vagrant. The second time they got picked up for stealing was the last time they were seen on the streets. With me, they just fed me and gave me a bath. And then I was out on the streets again. Even when they picked me up for being with Sara, and her with the junk in the house, they really didn't want any part of either one of us. Sara kept getting fines and junk. But the doctors always found her clean, and they let her go after she promised, word of honor to kick the stuff. Now she had a lid to kick. So in a way, it's not that bad that we both got busted this time and they sent her away to that place.
No matter how bad it is, I'm sure that she'll come out clean. With me, all I have to do is come here and talk my guts out. What can I tell you that will really go over?
Oh, I remember this one time that I was called in to help her with a John. Seems he was one of those who was on the other end when it came to beatings. He was willing to pay an extra twenty if she could get someone to beat him on the ass with his own cane, while he was fucking her.
The old guy must have been close to seventy, and I guess it was the only way he could get off. So she called me in and handed me the cane. I had seen so much shit by that time, that it didn't mean anything to me to beat the old guy's naked ass while he gave it to her.
And the hotter he got, the harder he wanted me to whack that thing across his ass. It was really funny to hear her yelling, "harder, harder," so he would feel like a real stud. And then he would start yelling the same thing to me, wanting me to beat him harder until he came.
He was one of the wackiest guys we dealt with. But he wasn't the only weirdo that we dealt with. There were a couple of guys who were regulars and knew that I was hanging out there.
One of them wanted to fuck me while Sara licked his ass, but I wouldn't have any part of it. The price went all the way up to a hundred bucks, and I would up smashing my fist in the guy's face, when he wouldn't take no for an answer. Sara lost a John, but she said that I had done the right thing. She never made me do anything I didn't want to.
Taking it up the ass just didn't fit the picture that I made for myself. But then another John came along, and what he wanted me to do, did kind of fit. This guy wanted Sara to stand up and face the wall so he could fuck her up the ass. And he wanted me behind him, doing the same thing with his ass.
And he was paying good money for it. So it didn't take me long to decide that it might be worth a try. Sara had been giving me pocket money until then, but this was the first chance I had to make any real bread for myself.
Since I still don't dig on doing anything that might be called gay, there was only one way that I could psyche myself into it. I made believe that I was shafting my father. Because it was what he really deserved for being such a narrow-minded creep. And when I began to ram my prick into that guy's ass, I could really see my father's face where the other guy was supposed to be. So you can be sure that I gave it to that guy a lot harder than he was expecting me to. He screamed like a stuck pig when I rammed it right in without even taking it slow. And I fucked that ass like crazy.
That's something else I learned. The guys that dug getting it like that when they were making it with a hooker really wanted me to hurt them. I did so well that he came back for more a few times.
And there was another guy who wanted me to do him while he ate Sara out. I used the same trick, and I did just as well. In fact, I kind of got to digging on it, because it was another way that I could get back at my father. There can never be enough of those.
Towards the end, I was doing all kinds of shit with Sara and the Johns. And I got to keep whatever cash was paid out to me. Sara never asked for a dime of that money, not all the time that I was staying there. Sometimes I think that I kind of love her.
Not that I don't know the difference between what we had and what a real love thing is supposed to be. I guess I always knew that it would have to end some time. But while I was there, I was happy for every morning that I knew I would still be sticking around for another night.
About the best trick that I ever helped her turn was the guy who looked so much like my father that I wanted to choke him as soon as he walked into the place. He was another one who was asking if she had a partner available.
He wanted me to fuck her up the ass, and after I came in there, he wanted to suck the come and shit off my prick. I really loved that one because he squatted on the floor, with his own prick in his hand, and looked so much like my old man, that all the time I was giving it to Sara up the ass, I kept turning around and spitting in that pig's face of his.
And he dug on that too. In fact he dug being put down so much that after he sucked my prick clean as a whistle, he went down there and stuck his tongue up Sara's ass, looking for more come.
It's like the freakier the Johns are, the more they pay. That guy had some money. He handed the money over to us, and when he bent down to pick up his shorts, I kicked his ass for him. You know what he did? He handed me an extra five just before he left. I guess in a way I'm glad that I got busted too. Because I was really getting into that S and M kind of heavy.
Whenever they look or do something that reminds me of the old man, I'm just itching to do them in. And if they're willing to pay cold cash just for the honor of having me give them a few whacks in one way or another, then so much the better.
But I'm still glad that I'm out of it, even with missing Sara. It was getting to be that I was handling all the Johns extra rough, and even the ones who didn't remind me of the old man in any way might wind up with more than they asked for, when they came my way.
If they only wanted to get fucked, or lick my cock, I would wait for a chance that I could accuse them of doing something wrong, so I could beat their face. And if not that, I would get them into a fight of some kind, and then I had a really good excuse for beating their asses.
Sara was starting to worry about that. She was afraid that I would beat up on the wrong Johns, or maybe do one in such a way that he wound up in a hospital, or maybe dead.
None of the Johns was ever brawny enough to put even a kid like me away. It looked like the weakest white men in America came crawling after Sara's black' cunt. And that's what got me thinking.
It could be that I'm not the only one who's more than a little curious about the dark meat. Sometimes after those creeps would leave, I would try to picture if they went back to the kind of home that I ran away from. Most of them did, I'll bet.
I wouldn't be surprised if they sat around their living rooms, smoking big cigars, and putting everybody down, especially blacks and hookers, just the way my old man does.
Maybe my old man would have come up there one day, if I had hung around long enough. I wouldn't be surprised. And that's why I won't tell anyone who I am. There's no way I'm going back there.
CONCLUSION
Billy was not even the boy's real first name. The authorities ran a fingerprint check, and a check on missing persons, but found nothing that fit the boy's description.
They surmised that his parents had not reported him missing, something many parents do, when they are ashamed for the neighbors to find out what has happened.
Since Billy, as he called himself, did very well in therapy, he was sent to a foster home where he could live a much more normal life than he could have in a detention center.
* * *
CASE HISTORY FOUR
Subject: Pearl J. Age: Fourteen
INTERVIEW ONE
This girl was brought in by horrified parents who thought that the girl was dangerously insane. Even when the analyst they had chosen for her said that she could do very well in therapy, they kept insisting that she should be committed.
Any progress that could be made with her, had to be handled by insisting that the parents not even be in the office waiting room until the session was over. Otherwise, they would keep listening at the door, or trying to break into the session with something to say.
Those two are just itching to have me put away. They won't admit that they're the ones who made me do it. If they stopped treating me like an infant and faced the fact that I was growing up, maybe none of it would have happened. It was the only way I could show them.
My father was all the time trying to make me hide my body, especially in front of him. I wasn't allowed to wear halters or shorts, and when my tits really started sticking out, he made my mother buy me only baggy shirts and sweaters.
And if you think he was bad, my mother was even worse than he was. She's that kind of flat-chested ugly broad who hates her own daughter for turning out prettier than she is. Here I am fourteen, and I still haven't been allowed to go out with a boy, or even to a party where boys are invited. Now tell me that isn't ridiculous.
You can see why I kept getting madder and madder. All my friends were going out and having great times at parties, movies and pizza places. And all I ever did was sit at home and play with myself.
I was itching for a way to get even with them for keeping me a prisoner like that and trying to make me ashamed that I was growing up. So one night when I heard that they were going to have a party for my father's business people, I knew that I had the greatest chance in the world.
Just messing up their party wasn't even enough to make me happy. I could have done that with no trouble at all. Anything from pretending that I was dying of some awful disease to running down there and smashing stuff all over the place would have done the trick.
But all it would have looked like, was that I was the awful little child they said I was, and couldn't be trusted to do anything grown up. So it had to be something that proved to them once and for all that I wasn't a little kid anymore. And if my folks were so embarrassed that they wanted to crawl in a hole and die, that would have been perfect. Because that's just the way they make me feel all the time.
Just like they do whenever they come here with me. Can you tell me why it takes the both of them to bring me here in person, when I can take the bus that stops on our corner. And why do they have to stand on both sides of me here in this office and tell you what a bad girl I've been.
Don't they think you'll be able to decide that for yourself? Or are they trying to make you think I should be locked up the way they want me to? You know something? I'm not sure they really think I'm out of my mind. I just think that they don't want me around anymore so it will make them look better with all those people.
We'll see if you think I'm out of my head when I tell you what I did. Or did they tell you already? Well, even if they did tell it to you their way, I'm pretty sure it isn't anything like the truth. They probably said they can't imagine what got into me.
And then they must have said something like I must have been born with bad genes because nobody in my family ever did anything strange. They call it strange.
I'd like to know what you call it. I waited until everyone was at the party, and they were talking and boozing it up a lot. You see, I've been cooped up in my room all night while there were so many of their parties going on downstairs. It got so that I could tell what was going on down there without even looking. And I could tell when everybody was pretty close to drunk.
If I didn't wait till then, I might not have gotten away with it. My folks would probably have chased me upstairs before I could even get into the crowd. But they were all so high by ten o'clock that my mother said I was to come on down and show their friends what a sweet little girl I was.
That's how you know they had to be stoned. They were playing some of my albums, and those funny old people were trying to dance the way we kids do. That's where I got the idea.
When my mother turned away from me for a minute, I hopped up on the coffee table and started to dance. Some of them were looking at me right away, and clapping to the music.
But I wanted everyone watching, especially my parents. So I yelled to them at the top of my lungs that I was going to put on a show for everybody. I guess they thought that I wanted to show them how well I danced.
I'm sure they never thought my dance was going to be a striptease. I guess I didn't either until it happened. All I really wanted to do when I got up there was dance so sexy that they would have to see my tits bouncing all over the place and maybe my ass.
Then they would all have to see that I wasn't a little girl anymore. So I got up there and started shaking everything I had, and whoever wasn't looking, I yelled to. After a while I didn't have to say anything. Because they were pointing at me, and talking to each other.
I couldn't hear what everyone was saying, but I could tell from the looks on their faces that they must have been very excited by my dance. And then, well, it just happened.
One certain song on an album of mine always made me feel very sexy whenever I heard it. And that one went on. So I started to throw it around even more, and they were all staring at me without even blinking. Both of my parents were standing all the way in the back of the crowd, which was why they couldn't get to me in time.
And when I started taking off my clothes in time to the music, I heard my father yell from somewhere in the back. But the other people, especially the men told him to pipe down, so they could pay attention to the show that I was putting on.
So there was nothing they could do from back there. And since everyone seemed to think that it was the cutest thing they ever saw, they just let it happen. I'm sure they never expected me to go all the way. And by the time I got down to my bra and panties, they were both hiding their eyes and didn't see the end of it.
In the beginning, when I was letting down my hair, and then opening buttons and zippers I heard things like "Take it off" from different places around the room.
But when I got down to my underwear, the place got very quiet AH I could hear was the music and a lot of heavy breathing. Ill bet everyone in the house thought that I would turn chicken and run before I took off my bra and panties.
A couple of times, I heard somebody saying that they bet I wouldn't go all the way through with it. Well, I did think about stopping when I got down to my bra and panties. But because of those people who were making fun of me, and my folks, who were standing in the back with their fingers crossed, there was just no way I was going to stop at that.
I kept right on going. First I unhooked the bra and tossed it away. But when I worked my panties down and got them off, I kept dancing around with them in my hand, until I caught where my father was at, and then I threw them right at his face.
He was so shocked that he didn't made one move. And since my mother never had the guts to make a move on her own, she just stood there too. The whole crowd started to shout and clap. And then the record ended, and my father snapped out of it. That's when he came running to the front of the room, pushing everybody out of the way. Somewhere along the line, he had yanked off a tablecloth. And that's what he threw around me before he carried me upstairs. I was afraid that he was going to kill me.
But he didn't hit me. He never does. In fact, he didn't even say anything to me. He just threw me in my room, and then I heard him rummaging around in his tool chest.
I was too scared to open my door and see what he was doing. But I found out soon enough, because I heard him nailing a hook and latch to the outside of my door. In a couple of minutes I was locked in!
Then I was really scared. I thought he was going to keep me locked in that room forever and let me starve to death. But he only left me locked in there until the party broke up.
They were all so pleased with my dance that I could hear them raving about it all the way up to my room. That's what kept me from crying, even though I was very scared. Even if they both beat me up, or they starved me. And even if they sent me away to some awful place, I still did that dance. And I did teach them a lesson.
Everyone down there was saying how I was turning out to be a very sexy young woman. Which was exactly what they did not want to hear. But I did. I loved every minute of it.
I can still see my mother's white face, and my father's red one, even when I'm just sitting here and telling you about it. When the front door finally closed for the last time that night, I sat in my bed in my prettiest white pajamas and just shivered.
I really didn't know what they were going to do to me. Actually, they didn't do very much but what they said was the last straw for me. You see, they told me that I had behaved like a silly little child, and that was just the reason why I couldn't be trusted to go out on dates and stuff like that. Neither one of them took the trouble to ask me why I did it.
They even took away my guitar lessons, and my guitar. And when my mother told me I could have them back when I finally showed them that I had started to grow up, I had it.
I wasn't ever going to let them talk to me like that again. Instead of anything getting better, the whole thing had gotten even worse. I was expecting that they were going to lock me in my room every night after that.
But my mother said that my dad had to get the lock off the door before the cleaning lady came. She was not going to be embarrassed by having the whole neighborhood think that they were keeping me caged up like a wild animal.
I'll bet she was afraid that they would know why I did the striptease. That they would be the ones that were branded as crazy. So my dad had no choice, but to take the lock off the door.
She heard plenty about that after what I did later on. They couldn't stay home and watch over me all the time. Until they put that lock on my door, I had stayed home when they told me.
That's why I don't think that I'm such a bad kid. I could have snuck out of the house and done all the stuff I wanted to when they went into town for those shows and cocktail parties.
All I had to do was be back in the house before they got there. And if I wanted to have friends in my house, it was even easier. Because our front door is hidden by trees from the neighbors and they couldn't see anybody coming and going.
But until they put that lock on my door, I didn't do any of that stuff. I really got wild after they said all that junk to me. And it was a phone call from one of my father's friends that gave me the next chance to teach them a lesson. And what a lesson it turned out to be.
He was really calling to find out how I was, or that's what he said anyway. According to him, he thought I was a very lovely young lady, and he was worried that they had done something terrible to me.
The rest of what he said added up to him thinking what I did took a lot of courage. And he added that he didn't think I was a little girl at all. He said that he had seen girls at some of his parties who looked and acted a lot younger than I did.
When he told me that he was having one of those parties that very same night, I got very interested. His address was in my father's book on his desk. So I wished him a good time and then I hung up.
I had a hunch that he had said so much because he really dug what he saw of me, which was everything. And he had gone to a lot of trouble to tell me all about that party of his. So when I hung up, I went hunting around in my mother's closet for some clothes that didn't look like kiddie stuff.
Her skirts and pants fit me okay, but I couldn't wear any of her tops because they were all too tight on me. I was built a lot better than my mother. That was easy to see.
So I took one of my own tops, and ran up the sides on the sewing machine. I'll bet my mother never thought I would do a thing like that when she taught me how to sew. With some fixing of my hair, the way I think it really should be, and just a little make-up, I thought that I looked pretty terrific. If they were there, they wouldn't have recognized me.
But Frank did. I raided the sugar bowl for cab money, and then went over to his place, expecting to find a big crowd there. I had waited a couple of hours just to be sure. That way I was figuring that they wouldn't notice how young I was.
I didn't have to worry about any of that stuff, because Frank and I were the only ones there.
"I've been waiting for you."
"How did you know I was coming?"
"I planned it all."
"There isn't going to be any party?" "Yes there is. You and I are going to make one."
"Now wait a minute. I think I know what that means, and it means I better go back home.
"You must think I'm a bad girl because of what I did. But I'm not. I just wanted to put on a show."
"And that's all I want you to do here."
"You won't touch me?"
"Would I do that to my friend's little girl?"
"I am not a little girl."
"Then prove it to me."
"Promise again you won't touch me."
"Scout's honor."
INTERVIEW TWO
Scout's honor is a very serious promise, and everybody who lives in the suburbs where scouting is a big thing knows that. Besides, he's a very good-looking guy, and I wanted to get a little closer to him, even though I was scared.
He put some of my favorite music on his stereo, and then he gave me some wine to drink. I never tasted that stuff before, and I liked it a lot. And he was all the time smiling, and being very nice, so I didn't get too nervous. That's when my song went on.
"They won't find out?"
"You don't think I would tell them!"
"No. Guess not."
"Then do your stuff, sweetheart."
Frank had set up this bridge table in the middle of the living room, and there was a step stool next to it, so I could get up and down there by myself. I felt just like a burlesque queen going on stage. Just like on the late movies on TV that I had to stay home and watch all the time.
Maybe he saw some of the same movies. Anyway, it was great fun, and I liked it right from the start. If it was some guy that I didn't know from my own home then I would have been a lot more scared than I was with Frank. But Frank was playing it like a game, just the way I was.
The music played, and I started to dance. For a couple of minutes, when I saw the way he was staring at me, I figured that I better not take off my underwear. But then the music got to me just the way it always did. I stopped worrying about Frank and dug on my dancing.
The same thing happened to me the way it went before. I didn't have to think about what to do with my clothes. They just came off at the right times, and just like it was a rehearsed dance. I thought I was doing pretty terrific, and I was really proud of myself.
That's why I decided to go ahead and take off my underwear after all. It was just going along, and I almost forgot that Frank was even there. I was dancing like I was just entertaining myself, so I could go ahead and get naked if I wanted to.
So I started taking off my bra, and then I happened to look where Frank was sitting. The fly of his pants Was open, and he had this big thing sticking up out of it.
His hand was closed around it, and he was moving it up and down. I knew what he was doing, but I had never seen one of those before. It was huge, and I wanted to watch what he was doing. Because it was Frank, I still wasn't scared, even though I should have been.
"What are you doing there?"
"Don't be afraid. I won't use it on you."
"Can I watch until you're through."
"But you don't understand. I can't be through until you finish your dancing. That's the way my little game works."
"I won't be able to see what you're doing, if I'm dancing way up there."
"Tell you what. I'll holler when it's time for you to look."
"Okay. It's a deal."
So I started dancing again, and pretty soon the music got to me so I didn't spend all my time just looking at what Frank was doing with his thing. But I couldn't help staring every time I looked in his direction. Because he was breathing all funny, and making funny noises too.
Then I started to understand that my dancing and my body were getting to him so much that his thing was going crazy. A grown man was doing all that grunting and moaning just because of me.
That's when I took off the rest of my things. But this time I kept on dancing, even when I was naked. I made sure that I was facing him all the time I was up there, because I didn't want to miss anything that was happening to that side of the room.
I was pretty excited myself. It was a special new kind of excitement. I never felt like that before. His hand was going very fast up and down on his thing, and his eyes were popping out of his head as he looked at me. All of a sudden, I heard this sound from him, like he was strangling on a chicken bone.
His hand was closed very tight around his thing, and it wasn't moving. Then he threw his head all the way back, and his eyes were staring up at the ceiling. But mine weren't. I was staring at his thing, and I couldn't dance anymore. Because his thing was starting to shoot all this white stuff straight up into the air.
And then something strange happened to me between my legs. I don't mean that I touched myself, because I hardly ever do that. My legs just got all hot and kind of tingly in there. And then this hot stuff, just like his started coming out and trickling down my legs.
My head was all fluttery, and I had to sit down, because I felt so shaky all over. When I felt better again, and understood what happened to me, I couldn't make up my mind if it was seeing what Frank did to himself, or me being the one to cause it, that did it for me.
Frank came up to me then, and he gave me a little silver charm bracelet. He said that I was to hide it away until I got old enough to tell them that one of my boyfriends had given it to me.
That's the only time that he touched me, all the time I was there. And it was only to give me the box with the bracelet in it. That's the truth, no matter what they told you.
I guess you're wondering how they found out. Well it wasn't Frank. He kept his promise not to say anything to a living soul. But I didn't. It was all great fun being with Frank like that.
But when he put me in a cab and I got home before they did, I started to get mad all over again. I put everything away just the way it was supposed to be, and then I started to think. It wasn't so much fun unless they knew about it.
And it being my father's friend that I did all that stuff with well that was really too much. I went downstairs again, naked under my bathrobe, and sat down in my father's favorite chair to wait for them to come home. I had it planned out, just what I was going to say.
"You still up?"
"Yeah. I couldn't wait for you to get home."
"Something special happen tonight?" "I'll say!"
"I don't like the way she sounds dear."
"What could have happened. She wouldn't have gone anywhere without us. She's still a little girl, in spite of what she did."
"Oh, is that so. Well I did go out."
"You didn't!" "Yes I did."
"With your little friends?"
"No. With one of your big ones daddy."
"What are you saying?"
"I went to a party at Frank's house."
"What kind of party?"
"Not a very big one. It was just Frank and me."
"Oh, my God!"
"Calm down dear. She's just a little girl. Nothing could have happened." "Oh, a lot happened."
"Suppose you stop teasing and tell me the whole story before I take a strap to you."
"It's not a great big story. I just went to Frank's house and he had that same music on."
"You didn't!"
"Oh yes I did. And this time it was even better. Frank had a stage set up for me, and I did a great dance."
"And what did Frank do?"
"He sat in a chair, and he had his thing out."
"My God! My God!"
"Are you going to say that all night Helen? She's probably just teasing us. Frank wouldn't lay hands on a little girl."
"He didn't touch me. But he didn't think I was a little girl. You should have seen how excited he was."
"Just how excited was he?"
"Enough to move his hand up and down his thing very fast. And when I got to the end of my dance, there was this white stuff shooting all over the place."
"You can say it now, Helen."
"Oh, my God!"
"Amen to that. Frank is such a gentleman in every way. It had to be this little devil. She's the one that caused it. She tempted him. That's the only way it could have happened."
"There you go again. Always making me out to be the bad one. How do you suppose I knew he was home, and how to get over there?"
"I've heard all of this that I am going to. You go straight up to your room. Your mother and I have to talk."
"Will you be getting out the locks and chains?"
"That's enough of that, young lady."
So I went upstairs, but when I got to the top, I called to my father. And when he turned around to look at me, I opened my robe, and showed him that I didn't have a stitch on.
That's when my mother fainted. And my father just let her fall to the floor while he stared at me with his mouth hanging open. His face was all purple and he looked just awful. I laughed so hard that my side started to hurt. Because I knew that he wanted to come after me that time and beat the tar out of me. But he just stood there like he had glue on the soles of his shoes.
When he picked my mother up off the floor they talked about me being crazy again. They said stuff like they would send me away to some girl's school, and then my mother said that I was real crazy and needed a doctor. But she was ashamed to send me to anyone where we live, because the whole world was sure to find out about it the very same day.
My father said I didn't need any doctor and that they could teach me how to be a good girl. After that time, they didn't go out anymore. My mother was at the school gates when the last bell rang, and I had to go right into her car. And from there I had to go straight to my room.
They took my TV away. All I had was my school books and a Bible they bought especially for me to keep in my room. I was supposed to learn a whole chapter every week, and I had to be able to recite it by heart.
But I didn't even learn the first one because I was so mad at them. They were treating me like some repenting sinner from the movies.
And every time I get mad at them that way, I have to do something to teach them a lesson. They never did say anything to Frank.
Which just proves that they think I'm a bad, crazy girl, and that nobody helps me get into trouble. According to them, I do it all myself. This time it wasn't going to be easy to teach them a lesson, because I couldn't get out of my room.
Whatever I was going to do, I had to do it from up there. About as far as I ever got those days was from the bathroom to my room. Even my meals were brought up to my room, because they were all the time having guests over for dinner and stuff like that.
It was like they were ashamed for anyone to see me. So I figured that was the best way for me to teach them a lesson this time. Someone was going to have to see me.
And they were going to have to see me naked. Not any of the ones from the party either. Because they were all a bunch of boozers, and just about all of them were cheating on their husbands and wives. No one in that bunch would have been shocked by anything I did. Oh, they would talk about it a lot, just to make my mother feel bad. But that's all they would do, so it wouldn't be any more fun with them.
This time it took me a couple of weeks
before I could do anything. My father had given up on expecting me to recite from the Bible, and he was just making like I didn't even exist I guess after a while, even he believed it, because he went ahead and invited the president of his company over for dinner. Daddy is only a junior vice-president.
Somebody higher up was retiring, and Daddy was just aching to impress the boss so he could get that job. I'm sure if he didn't want that job so bad, he never would have dared to bring him home.
Daddy should have known better than to trust I wouldn't do anything bad. Even from my cage upstairs, the way they were keeping me. You see, my bedroom windows are right over the front walk.
And they couldn't lock the windows right away, or stop me from doing anything in front of them. Because they were too busy in the dining room to even see what I was up to. And I saw Mr. Anderson before anyone saw me. It was a snap.
All I did was watch and wait while he got out of his car and started up the walk. I was still dressed because it was early in the evening. But I wasn't dressed for very long.
My blinds were already up, and when he was just under them I whistled through the space that I left open in one of them. I wasn't looking at him when I did it, so he must have thought that I didn't even know he was there. But I certainly did!
I started to get undressed with my face turned away from him, just like I was a little girl.
By the time I got my blouse off, and he saw my big tits in a bra, he knew that he was looking at a woman. And I knew because I could see his face turn red and his eyes bug out just the way Frank's did. I could see everything he did from my dresser mirror, which was right in front of me. It was a great set-up, as Frank would say.
I left my bra on until I got out of my skirt and white slip because I knew it would take longer that way, and I wanted him to stand right where he was and keep on watching me. My bra was the next to last thing, and by that time his tongue was hanging out of his mouth.
And when I got to my panties, and took them off, I could see that there was something going on in his pants. He had them on and they were closed, but I could still see that his thing had gotten very big, and he had slipped his hand under his suit jacket. But I couldn't see what he was doing under there.
I guess that he must have been doing what Frank had done right in front of me. But this guy was doing it on the sneak. It was great fun and I just had to turn to the window and yell out that I knew what he was doing all the time.
Guess I yelled a little too loud, or maybe it wasn't an accidental loud after all. I think maybe I wanted my parents to come running out and see the old guy with his hand on his thing like that, and me hanging out the window naked.
They came running out of the house like the place was on fire. Which didn't give my father's boss any time to take his hand away, or hide the way his thing was pushing his pants out way in front.
What does my mother do? She goes and faints again. It's starting to look like that's her answer for everything. My father tried to say something to his boss, but the old man was doing too much talking himself. I think he was trying to keep my father from looking down at his pants. They were so busy shouting at each other, that I had plenty of time to see what the old man was trying to hide.
He had this big, sticky wet spot in the front of his pants. And the spot had gone down so far that his jacket didn't hide it. I would have stayed there all day to watch the fun. But it was getting chilly, so I closed the window and went inside to put on a robe.
That other thing had happened to me again.
And it made me feel all weak and clammy all over, just like the other time. I felt very good, but I also felt very tired, so I went to sleep.
When I woke up they were both standing in my room, and our doctor was standing there too. He gave me a shot of something, and I went to sleep again. And then they brought me here.
Will you please tell them to stop giving me all those pills? All I do is sleep all the time when I'm not in school. I don't want to sleep my whole life away, and I don't want to stay locked up in that room anymore. You know I'm not crazy, don't you?
CONCLUSION
Pearl was not insane, and not even mildly psychotic. But she was a disturbed young lady, and from the story that she had to tell, it seemed that she had every right to be. Actually her parents needed analysis more than she did.
But the girl did have definite exhibitionistic tendencies and they had to be dealt with before the girl could be capable of dealing with her parents.
* * *
CASE HISTORY FIVE
Subject: Kevin A. Age: Thirteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Kevin was brought in for therapy by his parents, but the three of them claimed that they were doing so under protest. Both parents said that their boy had been led on by older girls, and so was innocent and not at fault for what happened.
But the parents of the girls and the authorities at school claimed that since he was the male, he had to be at fault. It was supposed to be up to the therapist to listen to the young male patient and decide if he was at fault and if so, if he were sick.
I am not sick, and the girls aren't either. We think we're just normal healthy kids, and we wanted to have some fun. It's just that the kind of sex fun we decided to have is a little different than what the other kids pick. So what's wrong with that?
And how can they say I'm the one that turned them on? I didn't even know what a cunt looked like until they showed it to me. It's not that I don't know the facts of life. You learn them pretty young in our neighborhood. It used to be nice and quiet when my folks moved there when they were first married.
But now it's changing a lot. They have a lot more Blacks and PR's living around us. We would have moved by now, but my father doesn't make enough money for us to find a better place.
He does the best he can just to scrape together what they have to pay for me to go the Catholic school instead of the public one, because they're hoping I wouldn't have to mix with the others too much.
You see how it saved me, don't you. Those are all Black and PR girls that I got caught with all the time. Every time they called them innocent, I feel like I want to puke.
They don't have an innocent bone in their bodies. I'll bet they were sucking on pricks while the rest of us were sucking on lollipops. With them hanging around all the boys, whatever color we are, a guy doesn't stay innocent for very long.
There was all this talk going around about a girl named Carla. They said she would suck you off if you brought her chocolate bars. Seems she has this passion for candy, and they don't have any in the house because they're on welfare.
She shouldn't be eating that stuff anyway, because she has pimples all over her face. But that doesn't stop her. And it doesn't stop all kinds of guys of all ages from chasing around after her.
She's really kind of dirty, and I think I would have stayed away from her, no matter how many stories I heard. But sometimes my father gets me so mad with all that holy junk of his, that I feel like I have to do something bad just to show him that I'm a boy and not a saint, the way ' he wants me to be. He just doesn't want me to be human.
He's got this thing about being pure and all that crap. I don't know how many time he told me that he was a virgin until his wedding night and so was my mother. That's why I still can't figure out how I ever got born.
They're all the time claiming that the follow everything that the church says. So how come I'm an only child? Do they think I'm just plain stupid, or does my father believe that I really am a saint and don't know how babies happen to be born.
Either they're doing something or to the drugstore on the sly, or they don't do a hell of a lot of fucking. It just got to the point that I had all the crap I was going to take about being pure and staying that way until my marriage night.
You just don't know how rough it is when you hear shit like that all the time in the house, and in the streets there are cunts like Carla just laying there and waiting for you. And when all of your buddies, even the young ones in Catholic school are getting laid and sucked-off all over the place. Suddenly it's like you're the only one that ain't never been with a broad.
And that's at thirteen. I don't know when the other guys got started. I mean the Blacks and the PR's. I guess they go to it as soon as they can get their guns off. Because even the girls were making fun of me because they heard I ain't had it then.
It made me all so mad inside that I started hanging out with the toughest guys in the neighborhood. That's when I heard about Carla. The way they were talking, every single one of them had either fucked the PR cunt, or at least gotten a blow-job.
I was the only one that didn't. Carla was sixteen, but she didn't care how young or old the guy was, or even what color he was. Just as long as he came across with the candy bars. Come across with candy bars, and she comes across with whatever you want.
I guess you would say that she was a teenage version of a hooker. If she wasn't, she was damn close to it. Ugly as anything, with this greasy skin and pimples all over. Even on her chest. But she had the whole neighborhood cock supply right in her hand...or her mouth...or her cunt. Since the guys already knew that I was still a virgin, I came right out and asked them what I should say to her and the rest of that junk. They told me her favorite kind of candy bars, and I spent two weeks' allowance stocking up on them.
The darkest place kids like us can go to on a weekend is the Saturday afternoon movie. You can't even go up on the roofs or to the park, especially at night. Because the older kids are using them for shooting galleries.
I'll say this much for that gang, including Carla. They didn't touch the stuff. They drank a lot of beer when they could get it, and wine whenever they could sneak it out of the house. And they did an awful lot of fucking. But no junk.
We snuck up in the balcony, because Carta's older brother was in charge of it. The guys told me to hand over the candy bars right away, and then I wouldn't have any trouble with her.
And it worked like a good luck charm. She was so busy munching on the candy bars and watching that shitty old movie, that she didn't even turn around when I started to open the buttons on her blouse.
When they were all open, I stuck my hand in there and started to play with her tits inside her bra. She had a huge pair, and those cheap bras she wore didn't even really show them for what they were.
They were so big that they fell right out of there, and I had a handful of tit without even trying to get it out of her bra.
I was pretty hot by the time I had gotten that far, and she still wasn't stopping me from doing whatever I wanted. Don't think I wasn't scared shit to be so close to a cunt that I was supposed to get into before I went home. I was damn scared.
But I knew that the guys wouldn't have any trouble finding out that I went chicken and didn't go through with it. And they would laugh me right out of the neighborhood. There's nothing worse than being called chicken prick. I would cut it off before they could call me that.
So what was a guy supposed to do but sweat it out and keep right on trucking. It helped that I knew she wasn't going to turn me down. But just before I started to work my hand under her skirt, I knew that I was doing it for another reason.
Even if I never had the guts to tell my old man that I did it, I would know. And I would go home knowing that I was more of a man than he was. When I saw that lightning didn't strike me dead for making it with her anymore than it did to the other guys, I knew that I would never listen to anything the old man had to say about sex again.
Maybe I had to prove it to myself as much as to the old man. But I wanted to show him that I had it with his old-fashioned ways, and I figured this was a dynamite way to do it. No reason I shouldn't get my jollies too, was there?
My prick was good and hard, so I wasn't ashamed to take her hand and slip it down the front of my pants. And when she started to play with it in there, I nearly creamed.
My hand dove under her skirt, and I made it all the way to the top of her panties before she stopped me. I just figured she was being a cockteaser. Especially since I knew that she put out for everyone in the goddamn neighborhood, including the cop on the beat.
So I made another try for the top of her panties, but this time she took her hand out of my pants. . "No more." "What's the matter with me?"
"No matter."
"I gave you the candy."
"That's fine."
"Come on bitch. Knock it off. Why do you keep pushing my hand away. Ain't a white one good enough?"
"I have the rag on."
Wouldn't you know it! I finally get up the guts to take her there so I can get laid, and it has to be the day that she has the rag on. I banged the chair with my fist.
My cock was starting to hurt, and all we did was just sit there. But then she put her hand back in my pants, and started playing with me again. If it wasn't for that stupid giggle of hers, I might have felt pretty good.
I thought that she was just going to tease me some more, and then walk off and leave me sitting there with a big hard-on. And that made me mad as hell. Because I wanted so much to leave that movie as a man. I had to show up the old guy.
"I ain't looking for no blue balls."
"Carla will take care of you." "If I wanted to beat my meat, I can do it myself."
"Carla will take care of you." "What will Carla do, bitch." "Carla will suck you."
Now that really freaked me out. Because that was supposed to be even a worse sin than fucking. I did go up there hoping to get laid, but if I got to do something that was supposed to be even worse, that bitch was going to make my day.
I didn't know what I was supposed to do while she was going down on me. So I leaned way back in the seat and slumped down, closing my eyes and trying to look like I was real cool about the whole thing.
Now that's dumb, too, isn't it? Because she knew just like the rest of the crowd that I wasn't never touched by a girl before. But I had this idea that if my father could see me right then, I wanted him to see me taking that bitch on like a man.
It was easy to play it out, because she didn't do any talking, and she didn't ask me to do anything. She did all of the work for me. I mean, she opened my pants, took my prick out. And then she went right down on me without even asking me if I wanted her to.
I guess she knew that no guy would have said he didn't want it. She had the one hand on my prick, and the other one inside my shorts, playing with my balls. And then she went down on it with her mouth, and started licking all over the top of it.
I was really getting a blow-job. And it was going along so nice and easy that I could have been watching it on the screen. Because I was looking at that screen, because I wanted to keep cool.
Jose told me that he watched the movie whenever he felt that he was going to shoot too fast. And I had to watch a lot of that movie. Because I felt like I was going to shoot every second she was down there.
She licked every inch of my hard-on before she opened her mouth up wide and swallowed the whole thing. Next she was moving her head up and down on it, and even I could tell that she had done a lot of that stuff. Her lips were a little sticky from the candy bars, and I could feel the chocolate, on the sides of my prick.
It might have been funny for an older guy. But to me it was the way things were supposed to be. Those chocolate bars were my ticket to a blow-job, and a chocolate coated prick was okay with me as long as she licked it all off. Which she certainly did.
The place was so dark that I couldn't have watched what she was doing to me, even if I wanted to. But I could feel everything that she was doing, and not only with my prick.
I could feel it happening all over my body, which was a pretty groovy thing to me. I kept trying to remember what Jose said about watching the movie, but it only worked for a little while.
And then I couldn't watch anymore. All I could do was come. She was starting to move up again, but I grabbed her head and pushed it all the way down. I felt the tip of my prick hit something in her mouth, and I guessed that was as deep as I was supposed to go.
She was trying real hard to push her head up again. I forgot that she always made the guy shoot his load into a handkerchief, but not me. I was going to do it the way a real man would.
No sissy stuff with coming into a handkerchief. I was going to show that father of mine I was more of a man than any of the guys in the whole neighborhood. I was going to show that father of mine I was more of a man than any of the guys in the whole fucking world. I saw the way to do it by just holding her head down there as hard as I could.
It was going along too fast, and she really wasn't all that strong. Just to be mean, she had stopped moving her head up and down on me. But I didn't care. I just kept on going in and out of her mouth by myself. But not for very long, because I started to shoot.
And it was wild to be coming inside of her mouth like that. Not just to be coming, and not just to be coming because a girl had done something to me. I was shooting in her mouth, which none of the other guys had done.
And I had done something with a girl that my father probably never did in his whole life. I just couldn't feature my old lady, with her prayer book under her pillow, taking my father's prick into her mouth, and sucking him off. I guess I really showed him.
That was the best movie I ever saw. Not another one like it. But don't ask me what it was about. Because I don't remember.
INTERVIEW TWO
If she had let me fuck her that day, maybe I would have been hung up on fucking. But Carla and her girlfriends, too, did a lot more cocksucking than they did fucking. They were all the time afraid of getting knocked up. Even those dumb broads knew you didn't get pregnant by being fucked in the mouth. Except for Carla.
I laughed my head off when she told me why she never let tne guys come in her mouth. She thought that the come would go all the way down to her belly, and she would get knocked up. And when she did fuck, she made them pull out of her before they shot down there, too.
That really flipped me out. Because of all the young guys, I was the only one that ever got to shoot into her, in any of her holes. That day, when I went home from the movies, I felt like I was on top of the world.
Of course, I didn't want to tell my dad what I had done right off. I figured I would save it for some time when we were having one of our famous battles that every neighbor in the building could hear.
Maybe I shouldn't have acted too smart or I wouldn't have gotten caught. None of the other guys ever did. But both of my parents worked, and my house was always empty in the daytime.
None of the other guys had an arrangement like that. And now that I was really one of the boys, they decided to make some use out of my empty house. Nobody asked me if it was okay. It just happened.
They were all hanging out on my stoop when I got there. So I put on my best shit-eating grin and walked right up to them with as much of a tough walk as I could come up with.
"How they hanging?"
"Mighty low."
"You get into her pants?"
"I might say yes, and I might say no."
"Come on. Did you fuck her or not?"
"What would you say if I told you I went one better."
"So she blew you. She blows all of us. Big deal."
"But does she swallow your come?"
"You're full of shit."
"She don't do that for nobody."
"Maybe for nobody. But she did it for me."
"You're full of shit."
"Ask her yourself."
"I might just do that."
"Hey, you guys, just hang on a fucking minute."
"Here goes Jack with all the bright ideas." "Damn straight." "Okay, what is it this time?" "Sounds like she digs Kevin more than the rest of us."
"You might say that."
"So I bet he could set up something special for the whole pack of us. Some day, when his folks is working."
"You wanna gang bang?"
"That ain't a bad idea. But maybe she can get some of the other girls to go in on the deal with her."
"Sounds like we got us an orgy."
But that was on a Saturday. And we still had a couple of days to wait out, because Monday was a holiday. I had a hunch I better not fight them on the orgy thing, but I wasn't sure that I had the belly for it.
If I had to be the host at an orgy, then I wanted to have at least one fuck under my belt before I had to do it in front of the whole crowd. Those guys were all the time showing off, which one of them had the biggest prick, and shit like that.
I didn't want anybody showing me up. So on Sunday morning, while the folks were at church, I went up to the place, and hung out on the fire escape, until she saw me and opened the window to let me in. Her whole family were drunks, and they didn't even know that I was in he house. That's why I went in through the window.
They were all sleeping in the back of the place. I did want to fuck her real bad, but only because I never tried it before then. I didn't know which kick I would go in for more.
So I got into her bed with her, and she spread her legs right off. I just looked down into her cunt, and suddenly I didn't want to fuck her. I wanted her to suck me off again, because it was such a sin, and I got such a great kick out of making her swallow my come.
"No, now I want a fuck." "Don't I get what I want?" "Where's my chocolate?" "I forgot it. I got it downstairs." "Then you don't get nothing." "Okay, we fuck."
She was a hot bitch, and that was the only reason she was letting me get away with it. So I stuck my dick in and I started to hump. But she didn't move her cunt half as good as she moved her mouth.
I came all right, because it was a new kick to me. And a guy my age don't have much trouble coming, even if his dick is only in his own hand. That's something that the other guys said too, so I don't feel too bad about it.
By the time I climbed down that fire escape and headed for home, I knew where my kicks were at. I dug on getting sucked off a whole lot more than I dug on fucking.
Every guy can fuck. Even married guys can fuck. But every guy can't get a blow-jobs whenever he wants it. And of those that can, I was the only one that could come in her mouth.
It really should have made me puke to come in her mouth when she sucked off every prick in the neighborhood. And I knew that the next time I did it, I would probably have to look at her pimply face. But all that made it even more of a kick.
Now I know that part makes me sound sick, but I don't have to lie to a shrink.
I had one more day, and I wanted to be sure just what my kick was before all of us got together. So I picked up this other PR broad. She was seventeen, and put out a lot herself. I had to take her into the cellar, and we made it on this dusty old mattress.
When I sat down to take my pants off, I felt something run across my prick. It might have been a rat, but he didn't stop to bite my balls. This Viola was a pretty easy lay, too.
But I had to go and pick one of these scrupulous bitches. She felt like it was a perversion making it in a cellar, or something like that, because she only got out of her panties, and then picked her skirt up. She said something about it being indecent to have all her clothes off with a guy. Tell me if you can figure that one out.
Me, I wasn't bothering. She wasn't much in the tit department, so I didn't care if I got my hands on them or not. As soon as I was lying down there with her, I just moved myself around until I could aim my prick at her ugly face.
"No, Kevin, no!"
"Go ahead and kiss it."
"That is terrible!"
"What you got against sucking dick?" "Awful. A terrible sin." "How come it's good enough for Carla?" "She is a sinful girl."
I could tell that I wasn't going to get any place with her by talking, so I stopped trying and started pushing my dick into her face again. This time, she slapped it away with her hand, and started to get up. So I figured if t was going to get anything, I better do it her way.
"Okay, then, how about a fuck?" "Yes, that is all right."
My prick was nice and hard from rubbing it against her face, so I just stuck it right in there, and started humping. She moved a lot better than Carla, and it wasn't a bad fuck at all. But when it was over, I kinda felt like I was missing out on something.
She didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry, so I waited until I could get it up again, and then told her that I would beat the shit out of her unless she let me put it in her mouth.
Viola might have been prudish, but she also grew up in the Spanish ghetto, and she knew that even a kid my age could beat up on her and do a damn good job if he wanted to. So she took it in her mouth, and when I ordered her to start sucking, she went right to town on it.
Maybe she wasn't as good as Carla with her mouth, but she didn't seem to mind what she was doing once she got started. And I knew that I had my dick in a P.R. mouth, and it was supposed to be an awful sin. Here she was, a good girl, just like my folks said they were, and I was giving it to her in her mouth. This sounds awful, but I felt like I was giving it to my saintly mother that way. So when party time rolled around, I figured I could hold my own in the crowd and I told them to go ahead, and get the gang together. Some gang! If my folks were home to see them coming into the house, they would have gone up on the roof and jumped off. I was the only white kid in the whole crowd, and that was just the way I wanted it.
There were a couple of young girls, but I was really the youngest one there. Girls don't stay young and innocent very long where I come from. They see so much and they do so much fucking around, that they get old real fast. It's kind of a shame, but when I think about it, I know that I would rather be like the rest of them than try to be like my old man.
Because his way just isn't real. Whatever you might think of the kids and me, at least what we do is real. I like to have my feet on the ground.
Does that sound too serious" for a kid my age? In my house, I never had a chance to have fun. Even laughing and telling jokes is something of a sin, according to my parents. I think they were starting me out to take on serious responsibilities, and give up any ideas of fun from the day I was born.
I can't even remember having very much in the way of toys, and for Christmas it was clothes or something else I was supposed to need. So even though I should have been careful about having that rat pack in the house, I didn't much give a damn.
We all should have been in school, and it was the first day that I ever missed. Right away, that was a mistake, because my teachers picked up on it, and came looking for me. The other kids cut school all the time, and the older ones had already dropped out, the most of them. So nobody was looking for them. Just for me.
When that lady from the school came around, the whole gang was stripped bare ass and they were all going at it like crazy. I figured since it was my house, I could make them do anything they wanted. So I said that all the guys had to get blow-jobs first, or I was going to kick everybody out of the house.
The guys liked that idea, so they said the same thing. And this time, even Viola didn't put up a fuss. I guess the other girls told her that there was nothing to it, so she went down on me again.
I knew that once everybody got into the swing of it, the guys wouldn't be noticing if all I did was get my prick sucked. They didn't notice that. In fact, none of us noticed anything at all.
Including that we hadn't locked the door, or even pulled down the shades. Since it was June, I had all the windows open, because it was starting to get all sweaty up there, with all that fucking around. I think that the lady heard our noise before they even saw what was happening. Maybe they already knew what we were doing before they walked in through the open door. That was my fault.
If I had locked the door, the kids would have had time to get into their clothes before they caught us. And even if they thought that we were doing something bad, they couldn't have proved it. The way it happened, that lady and her friend walked right into the middle of it There I was with my hands on this chick's head, and she was sucking on my meat like crazy. Everybody else was lying on the floor around us, some sucking and some fucking.
When the lady started to yell and scream, everybody jumped and started running all over the place. But there wasn't no way they could get out of there, because nobody could find their own clothes. And the lady knew every one of us by sight, so it didn't matter anyway.
And what a bunch of bastards they turned out to be. Because it was my place, they figured it would be easy to say that I was the ringleader, and get away with it. That's a risk you gotta take, when you deal with a bunch like that. They stick together to get something, but when the jig is up, it's every man for himself.
The girls were real bitches. They started crying all over the place, and saying that they had been conned into coming up there, and it was all my fault.
I was supposed to be the one that made them do it. This is stupid, but for awhile there, when I didn't have time to think about my folks getting the whole story, I felt like a big man. It was a kick to think that I had shown the old man up.
But I was feeling that kick in front of that old maid teacher, because she knew my folks very well. I didn't feel so great when I had to face my mother. She ain't a bad lady, and she was very hurt, when she heard all the things that the other parents were saying about me.
They don't want nobody to think that their dainty little boy did anything bad. I gave my old man a real kick in the head with all that shit. It was okay to look like a big man when it first happened, but down there in the station house, it wasn't no fun at all.
The lady and my folks didn't want to drag us down there, but when the folks of all the girls were called, I guess they felt they had to go to the cops to make their girls look good.
That's how I wound up here. It's the only way my folks feel they'll be able to clear my name. If I had been caught fucking, it might not have been half bad, but I was caught with my prick in a girl's mouth, and they're all the time thinking I'm perverted, and junk like that. You really think I'm sick in the head?
CONCLUSION
Kevin was showing his independence in the only way he knew how. It was really the luck of the draw that got him involved with oral sex, since it was his first experience.
But the aspect of oral sex also appealed to him once he was introduced to it, since it was as far from what his parents were trying to teach him as he knew how to get.
Even though the boy had shocked them, and he was in a bit of trouble with the law, he had finally succeeded in making them see him as an individual, and not a carbon copy of his own father.
* * *
CASE HISTORY SIX
Subject: Tricia W. Age: Fourteen
INTERVIEW ONE
This young lady was taken to a very fashionable, and very high-priced analyst, because her wealthy family saw nothing wrong with a young girl going for therapy. Since all of her friends were in therapy as well, she had no reason to be reluctant to speak about what had happened to her.
In fact, she was rather proud that her particular problem was so different from the other girls that she associated with. According to her, they all fooled around, but not in the way she did.
All the girls in my crowd screw around, so why shouldn't I? If I had waited maybe another year or two, my mother would have taken me into her gynecologist and gotten me a prescription for birth control pills, but I guess I really didn't want that stuff.
When your folks make you come out with the sex, out in the open like that, they kind of take the fun out of it. The only thing they ever said to me was that I shouldn't get into trouble.
Maybe in your book getting into trouble means any kind of sex at all, but in our crwod, it only means that the parents don't want to be bothered with any of us getting pregnant. They even had this pretty idea I was always hearing about.
It was supposed to be that nice young ladies, the way I was being raised didn't fuck. They made love. Making love excluded stuff like using mouths and asses. Stuff like that was supposed to be only for the lower elements, like the servants. , And that really bugged me. It was okay for me to fuck like a bunny all I wanted to, as long as I did it like a lady. Can you tell me how much of a lady you're supposed to be at age thirteen, when your folks know you're screwing around, and they won't say anything about it, as long as you do it according to your station in life?
At first, just being part of the crowd, and doing it the way they all did was enough for me. Some of them waited until they were old enough to get their pills, but I liked to live dangerously, so I fucked around with a few of the boys, hut I didn't get much out of it, because we all got it so easily. You don't know how easily.
Most of our parents would even go so far as to give us the run of the house, when it looked like one of us and a guy might be in the mood to do a little screwing around. We could do .whatever we pleased, as long as they didn't have to see it.
I guess that's why I didn't get too much of a kick out of it. I know that young kids who don't live the way we do, do a lot of screwing around too.
But their parents don't know what they're doing, and they have to do a lot of sneaking around. Well, that's really what makes it so much fun. Not that fucking isn't fun, especially with a boy you like.
Maybe I'm just one of those girls that wishes her family would spend a little more time worrying about her. Mine seem to feel that as long as I have everything I want, and there isn't any scandal because of it, then the whole world is beautiful.
To tell the truth, I really wish they would have given me some rules that I really had to cope with. Some of the girls in school had to call whenever they were out somewhere, especially if they were going to be late. And if they slept over at someone's house, then their mothers would have to talk to the other girl's mother at least once that night. Not that those girls didn't bitch about it a little. But one thing was for sure. At least they knew that their parents cared enough about them to lay those rules down. Me, I always bragged that I didn't have a curfew from the time I was twelve and going to social dances. And if I didn't remember to call home, when I was going to be late, then nobody said anything to me about it later. All I ever got was a note in the downstairs hall that I was to knock on their door, and let them know I was home.
I guess you could call that caring in a way.
Maybe I'm just one of those girls that wishes kids in our crowd don't even have two parents at home at the same time. Not ever. At least I have that. I know that they love each other, so maybe I'm supposed to take it for granted that they love me too.
Would you call me insecure? I think that maybe I am, just a little. Because I was bragging that I had all this freedom, and inside I was mad at them for giving it to me.
Maybe if I could talk to them as easily as I can talk to you right now, I could tell them what was bothering me. My parents are very nice to me, and everything is sweet and polite in our house. But if you ever really listened to what we were saying to each other, even I could see that we aren't really saying anything at all.
Sometimes I just sit there in the room with them, and I'm hurting inside to tell them how I feel. But all that comes out is some dance that I'm going to, or a new tennis outfit that I saw in a shop.
And it wasn't any different when I was with the kids. I have a couple of girlfriends that I would really love to talk to, but whenever we get together, we just talk about what each of us is doing with the boys, or whose parents are getting a divorce.
One day, I just got up in the morning, and promised myself that I would find some way for somebody to listen to me. Only I didn't know how I was going to do it.
That's when I started thinking about doing things like sex things, maybe, that were different than anybody else. First, I wanted to know that I could think of doing some things for myself. And then I know that I wanted people to start noticing me. I was sure that if they saw I was doing freaky things, they would want to ask me why.
It was the best I could hope for. I knew that it wasn't the best way, but it was the only way I could think of. I guess I wanted to find out if I could do it anyway.
Then if I could do something a little freaky, I was going to make sure that they found out about it. I didn't care if they got mad at me, or even if my mother cried. Just as long as they took enough time to sit down and ask me what was wrong.
Brock, the boy that I've been sort of going with, he got his hands on some books from his father's study. And they weren't poetry books, either. They were those porno paperbacks that you have to go to a special store to buy. And one of them had pictures in it.
Colored pictures. They showed these people using their mouths. You know, going down on each other. I'm not sure which one of us came up with the idea first. Anyway, he started hugging me, and talking very low, right next to my ear.
"Why don't you try sucking me?"
"The people in the pictures weren't like us."
"Why aren't they?"
"They're cheap people. Why else would they pose for pictures like that? They're not our kind."
"If we're so different, then why did your eyes get so big when you were looking at them?" "Yours were, too."
"Sure. I'm fifteen, and I think that I'm more like that guy than some silly little boy from dancing school."
"You think it's all right?"
"Why not?"
"You think we're just like them?"
"Not exactly. They weren't born in a fancy hospital. But you and Tare just like all of the kids around here. Didn't you ever want to do something different?"
I don't know if he was driving at the same thing that I was. But when I was listening, that was what it sounded like to me. It sounded like Brock wanted to make people know that he wasn't cut from a cookie mold. He was raised pretty much the same way I was, so maybe he was getting to feel the same way I was feeling about making people see him as a person.
Anyway, I knew that I was feeling that was and what he was talking about sounded like a good way to do it. I know that if my mother saw those pictures, she would probably say that they were vulgar and dirty. So that's why I decided to go ahead and try it.
Brock tricked me into trying it on him first. He said that it would be easier for me, since his prick was already hard, so I might as well go ahead and use it. And when he came, and he was all calmed down again, then he would be able to concentrate on what he was going to do to me. I'm such a marshmallow when it comes to boys anyway.
So I let him have his way, just like I always do. We both read the story part that went with the pictures, and it told how they did it, and what kind of kicks the people were supposed to get. They even had the words and sounds those people were supposed to make, in captions under the pictures. The rest we figured out for ourselves.
I just lay down with him, and I started licking and playing with his balls. After I got tired of that, I just plopped his thing into my mouth, and started sucking on it. Once I got that far, I found out that I liked the way it tasted. Thinking that my mother would just die if she knew what I was doing, made it taste even better to me.
Brock was pretty happy with what I was doing. He kept on looking down on me with this big smile, telling me how great I looked down there. And I sucked my little heart out. Then Brock shot in my mouth. He was coming too fast to give me a warning, and all that stuff just went right into my mouth.
We had made up that when it happened, he was going to tell me, and I would take my mouth away just in time. Like I said, it happened too fast, and I had all of this stuff in my mouth.
I couldn't just spit it out on the grass. That wouldn't be the ladylike thing to do. All the time that hot stuff was shooting into my mouth, I tried to make up my mind what to do with it. And then I had this really dirty idea. It would be just awful to swallow that stuff all down, and that's why I did it. But it wasn't so awful.
It didn't really taste that bad at all. When Brock took his prick out of my mouth, and wanted to know if everything was okay, I told him that it was. Because it really was. I was feeling terrific that I could do something that my mother wouldn't.
And when she did find out that I did it, I knew that she would want me to talk my little heart out. And that was what I wanted too. I did get sidetracked for awhile.
Brock wouldn't do it to me, even after he came. So I got mad at him, and I started making it with some of the other boys. I just figured that I had a right, since he didn't keep his promise. And I told him what I was going to do, too.
He didn't say a word to me about it. Brock knew me pretty well, since we were practically babies together. If he wanted to keep me from making it with other boys, especially what I said I was going to do with them, then he should have done it to me himself.
Between you and me, I think he chickened out. Brock wasn't one to break a promise, at least not the ones he made to me. I'm pretty sure he was chicken because I gave him a couple more chances before I started going out with Jody.
And it wound up the same way as the first time. He would promise me that he would do it, and I got tricked into going down on him first, every time. Once he really did put his head between my legs, and I got a kiss inside me thighs. But then he took his head away.
Brock wanted to please me, but he just couldn't go through with it. At least he fingered me after I sucked him and he came. So I felt kind of bad to be going out on him, but I wanted to teach him a lesson too.
I kind of think sometimes that I'm mad at the whole world. I was really counting on Brock to do it to me, so I would feel really special, the way he said I made him feel.
You can see how I had to do it with someone else, even though I really dug on Brock a lot. You can see it, can't you? I really hope you can. I need someone to understand me so badly.
Jody was one of our gang, but he hadn't been living out where we were all his life, like the rest of us. I guess you could say he wasn't born to the money like we were. His father was an inventor, and they were pretty poor until he came up with something that had to do with computers. All of a sudden he had his millions, and he wanted Jody to have everything that money could buy.
So he bought the house next door to us. Well, I guess you could call it next door, but you really have to take your bicycle to get from his house to mine. Jody was sixteen when he moved out our way. I really had a crush on him from the first day his father brought him over to meet us.
They said that his mother was dead, or something mysterious that they didn't want to talk about. I dug that, because it made Jody seem mysterious, too. He was very cute, and I was worried that he would think I was much too young for him.
But it looked like I was going to be the only friend he had for awhile. Some of the kids are as snobby as their mothers and fathers when it comes to new people. But not me. I wanted to be so different than anybody. And being friendly to servants and new people was one of the ways that I did it.
It wasn't hard to be nice to Jody. Not with his cute face, and those long legs of his. His face wasn't the only cute part of him. When he turned away to walk back to his house, I saw that he had the cutest ass on a boy in the whole world. And I really wanted to touch that ass.
If a boy Brock's age could fuck, but he was afraid to eat a girl, then I thought I could at least get a good fuck from Jody. And maybe since he was a whole year older, he might have tried going down on a girl before.
That was one time that I made a real lucky guess. Since none of the other kids wanted to have much to do with him in the beginning, he started hanging out at my place a lot.
His pool wasn't working when they first moved in. So naturally, I invited him to swim with me in ours. As soon as I saw that great body, and the way he had muscles, which the other boys didn't, I just fell for him in a very big way. I was as nice and charming as I knew how to be.
INTERVIEW TWO
And Jody was being very nice to me. He seemed kind of shy and lonely. I wasn't sure if he felt out of place because they had been poor for so long. Or maybe he missed not having a mother. Sometimes I thought that he just missed not having a girlfriend, because none of our girls would talk to him even when I introduced him to them in the village.
I suppose it could be that he just liked me for me. But I'm not really sure because I know that a thirteen-year-old girl isn't all that much. Even my tits aren't too big. I saw the way he would look at some of the older girls with really big ones, especially when they were walking around town in shorts and halters. This road company was doing Shakespeare out our way, and everybody was going. So Jody asked me. I knew he went to a lot of 'trouble to make sure that our tickets weren't anywhere near the others. But that was okay with me, because Brock was going to be there with a friend of mine, and I didn't want to sit near them. Sitting alone with Jody made me feel more grown-up, and very special. And he held my hand, instead of grabbing at me.
When the show was over, I knew that the gang would be going into town for sodas. But Jody had a new sports car, and he said that he wanted to try it out by taking a long drive in the country.
I though it was terrific. I love sports cars, and my father said he would get me one when I was old enough. So, in the meantime, I had to get my kicks by riding with Jody in his. It was a terrific silver Jaguar, and the prettiest car of all the kids in town. I felt just great to be sitting in it with him.
I wasn't paying much attention to where he was taking me. It didn't matter because Jody was always so sweet to me, and I knew that I didn't have to worry. Even when he would swim with me in my pool, he never touched me, unless I kind of hinted to him that it was okay.
And whatever we did until that night when we went driving in his car wasn't very much. Not like I did with Brock, or any of the kids. Until then, he was just cuddly with me. Once I asked him if he was a little afraid because he wasn't born rich the way I was.
All he said was that he never met a girl like me, and that he respected me a whole lot. l was kind of flattered that he respected me like that, but I did wish that he would at least try something. I was still feeling kind of young around him. If he tried something with me, at least I would think that he looked at me and saw a woman.
We really drove very far out, and pretty soon we were at the very end of the road. Jody stopped the car, and took a picnic blanket out of the trunk. My heart was beating really fast, because when we kids take a blanket out into the woods, we aren't going just to look at the stars.
Jody also took out a wicker hamper from the trunk. He had brought all sorts of goodies along for us, and everything tasted just great. He even brought a bottle of champagne. I used to drink that stuff all the time at grown-up parties and junk like that.
But it wasn't the same .thing as when I was sharing a whole bottle with Jody. He had tried to chill it in this little brook that was near where we were lying. But it was still kind of warm when we drank it, and maybe that's why it went right to my head like that.
I guess Jody drank a lot more warm champagne than I ever did, because my head felt all sleepy, and I just stretched out. There was this great breeze, and lots of bright stars sparkling through the green leaves of the trees. I just kind of drifted off to sleep. I was dressed in this long skirt, with slits on the sides, and a halter that tied up under my bust. It was the kind that you weren't supposed to wear a bra with. Not that it mattered with me. My tits are so small that I never have to wear a bra with anything.
Anyway, I must have been sleeping for a little while, and maybe I was dreaming that Jody was making love to me. He was so quiet and still for a very long time, that I thought he went to sleep too.
But Jody wasn't sleeping at all. I felt the breeze blowing over my legs and all the way up to my thighs. And I thought my skirt had gotten blown up while I as sleeping. But that didn't happen. Jody must have pushed it up, and I guess I spread my legs out myself.
Jody was pretty tricky. He had gotten my little panties off me without even knowing what he was doing down there. I opened my eyes, just in time to see him putting his head between my legs.
Well, I was really glad that I woke up just in time to see that. I never told him how much I wanted a guy to do that to me, or why. It was just really lucky that he wanted to do it all on his own.
Then I felt lots of wet kisses all over my belly, and inside my legs way up at the top. I was still high from the warm champagne, but what he was doing down there made me feel even higher. I lay there under the stars, looking up at that beautiful sky through the trees, and I felt like Jody was taking me right up to heaven.
When he started to kiss me, I had to close my eyes, because it felt so really terrific. All of a sudden, his tongue went out and he started licking at it. That was really heaven. First he licked along my slit, and then I felt his fingers spreading me open in there.
Next I felt his tongue go in there, and I just went crazy for what he was doing to me. He was kind of licking around that little button that I used to play with all the time when I was a little girl. And I started to feel all wet and warm down there. I knew that he had to be getting some of that stuff in his mouth, but he didn't seem to mind.
I thought about Brock, and the way he wouldn't even stick his tongue out and try it. And there Jody was, and he was licking away at me like crazy, and he kept licking, even when he got my stuff in his mouth.
All of a sudden, his tongue went into my little hole. He started wiggling it around in there like crazy, and I got very wet. I also got myself very hot, and not just down there.
I was hot all over. Very, very hot. Not the way I got when I fucked with someone. Because then I felt hot. But I didn't feel hot and tingly at the same time, the way it was happening with Jody eating me out.
Jody made me feel so terrific, that I reached down to his cute curly head and played with his ears while he was licking me down there. There were so many things that I wanted to say to him, but it just came out in groans and moans. I guess he understood how that could happen, because I could tell that it probably wasn't the first time he went down on a girl. He was going at it so great. And I could tell that he was getting a lot out of it for myself. Because I could hear him groaning and moaning, too, even though his mouth was kind of full.
I didn't know what he was doing with his prick and I started to think about asking him if he wanted me to suck him while he was doing that to me, but then I came and it was over.
I came a lot, and Jody didn't take his head away, even when all that stuff was coming out of me. And then it was over, and I started to cry. I wasn't sad, I was just so happy that I cried.
"Did you like the way I did it?" "Oh, yeah, it was terrific." "Better than that little Brock kid?" "He never did that to me." "Don't the rich kids out here do stuff like that?"
"I guess they're just chicken little kids." "Well, I'll eat you anytime you want me to, Tricia. Because I think you're the greatest girl ever. My father says that you're much too young, and your folks wouldn't like me getting too close to such a young girl. But he doesn't know what the kids out here do." "Do you think I'm too young?" "Oh, no!"
"Then I don't care what your folks say, or mine either. I only care what we say and what we do."
"Then we can come out here again sometime?"
"If you want to, Jody. Hey, Jody, look how big your prick is. I never saw one so big. Do you want me to suck it?"
"No, not now. It's very late."
I couldn't figure that one out at first. He knew my folks didn't care how late it was, so we had time for me to suck him. He just didn't want me to. On the way home, he said he was happy enough for eating me, and he still had to work out some things in his head before we did anything else.
I wanted to hug him, and then I asked him to kiss me, because I wanted to show him that I didn't think his mouth was dirty, for what he did. But he didn't come up to kiss me right away.
Not on my mouth. He made this big, wet kiss on my cunt, and then he told me that he loved it. So I asked him to kiss my mouth, and tell me he loved me as much as he loved my cunt.
His kissed my face all over, and then he told me that he loved every inch of me. That was so sweet! Because of what he said, I wanted to suck him even more, and I begged him to let me do it, but he only said next time, if everything was okay.
I still didn't know what was okay, and I didn't see him for a couple of days after that. And then his father went out of town on a business trip, and he asked me if I wanted to spend some time over at his place. My folks were away, too, and they said that they might stay away for the whole week.
Jody didn't know that. But when I said that I did want to come over there, and spend some time with him, I meant that I was taking over a whole suitcase full of stuff.
At first I thought that it was going to be just our secret. The house servants would never dare to tell my folks. But just to be sure, I said that I was going to stay with Abby, and that was the end of it. And I felt so sure that I was going to get away with it.
That's why I took a bunch of nightgowns out of my mother's bureau and packed them instead of my baby dolls. It was going to be the first time that I spent the whole night with a guy, and I wanted to look like I was all grown-up. I should have been a little neater and closed her drawers so she wouldn't see how much stuff was missing.
And I shouldn't have taken a couple of her newest things that were still in the wrappers. I was just so happy to be spending a whole week with Jody that I didn't think of anything at all. Like what my friends would say to the servants when they called up all week, and I wasn't there.
Like not calling Abby to tell her to lie for me. That would have been so simple, but I didn't do it. Abby called the night that my parents came home three days early. Mom got really scared and when she went upstairs to dump her suitcase, before she went into my room to see if I took enough stuff to run away, she saw that I had taken all of her stuff.
Mom is a pretty smart lady, without even trying. She put nightgowns next to all the time I was spending with Jody, and she just knew that I must be someplace with him.
Jody had sent all the servants away for the week, so they weren't complaining, and they weren't about to tell his father or mine, either. And we made up that we weren't going to answer the phone, so anybody who called would think that he went away with his father.
We were up in the big bedroom which nobody used, because his father used to say it was too lonely for him to sleep in a big bed like that all alone. That made it feel like it was just our place, and it made me very happy.
Then Jody told me that he really loved me, and if I wanted to, we could take some money, and run away to California in his car.
It all sounded so very exciting and I told him that I loved him too, and I wanted to run away with him so much.
So he said that now he was sure of me, and he wanted us to do sixty-nine. He said that he never wanted to make it with a girl all the way until he was sure how she felt about him. I didn't understand too much of that, but I was so happy to be finally going down on his prick that I didn't stop to ask him any more questions.
I had on this gorgeous nightgown that my mother ordered from some very expensive place in Paris. The reason I was still wearing it was because it made me feel so beautiful and all grown up. And Jody had on his birthday suit. We had the lights on because we wanted to look at each other all over. Maybe only grown-ups are ashamed to do it when the lights are on, but not us.
When we were moving all around the bed, so we could get ourselves arranged for the sixty-nine, I told Jody how I wanted to teach my parents a lesson. I was going to write this note and tell them how it was all their fault for not watching over me better. I wanted them to feel just awful that I ran away with an older boy like Jody, and they would never see me again.
That way, they were going to know that they should have paid more attention to what I was trying to tell them all the time. Like I said, the lights were on upstairs, but there weren't any lights on downstairs.
I guess that looked suspicious to my father. Even if Jody and his dad were supposed to be away, everybody knows that you always make sure there are a couple of servants in the house, so the burglars won't try to get in.
We heard the front doorbell ringing, but we were too scared to answer it. And then it stopped ringing and we thought they went away. We just laughed because we figured that we tricked whoever was looking for his father, and then we got very serious.
Jody put his head down between my legs, and I put my head down between his. His prick was really very big, and it had lots of hair around it. He even had some hair on his chest, and he looked like a real man. I was very excited and my mouth was just watering to be sucking on him.
So I went right down there, and started to go to it. I think I had my mouth on his prick before he started to lick me. After that, I never heard what was happening until they were both in the room, and they were almost standing on top of us.
"What have we here?"
"I told you, Tod. I told you that we have to be careful of the new rich people. They never get the cheap blood out of them."
"What kind of cheap things did you teach our Tricia?"
"Cheap things! What we're doing is the most natural thing in he world. You're snobs."
"She's just thirteen. Or didn't you know that?"
"She wasn't a virgin at the age of twelve. She told me that herself. .I suppose you didn't know that. Did you think only poor girls learned to fuck young?"
"Don't talk that way in front of her. We wouldn't have minded it half as much if you were making love."
"You stop that. Both of you! Me being here with Jody is my idea. I wanted to teach you a lesson."
"A lesson? What lesson?"
"That you should take better care of me. Watch what I do, and ask a lot of questions, like Abby's parents do."
"We didn't want to harm your development."
"I call it not caring."
"Is this what this is all about?"
"Yes. And I wanted you to see that I was a person, and not a little stuffed poodle. I don't have to do all the right things if I don't want to. I can do anything I please, even if you think it's cheap."
"All right, now. You come home, dear, and we'll talk about it. You'll have to excuse us, Jody."
They were so polite to him that it sounded like they were choking on the words. I knew they figured he was cheap trash or something. And here his father was supposed to be some kind of a genius. I guess they didn't care how smart or educated someone was. If they didn't come from six generations of money, then they weren't anything.
You know what their answer was to everything I said? They brought me here. What do you say?
CONCLUSION
Young Tricia was on the right track, although as she said in her own words, she didn't know how to go about telling it to her parents. And where they should have been right there to help her open up, or at the very least, have some insight into what she was trying to say, they chose to stick their heads in the sand instead.
It was easy to see why the young girl felt that she was forced to take some drastic measures in order to get her attention. And she also had something to say by way of protest about the morals of their affluent society.
Family counseling was advised for this family, and the suggestion was accepted by the parents.
After two sessions of the parents putting on airs, and passing the blame around, they finally got down to some honest communication.
* * *
CASE HISTORY SEVEN
Subject: Keith L. Age: Fifteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Two days before the boy's fifteenth birthday, he had a record of five arrests, for sexual offenses. He had been released on all of the previous occasions, except for the last, in the custody of his mother.
The judge always thought it odd, that the boy never seemed to be happy about going home with her, but he asked no questions, the first and the second time.
By the third time, he did, but got no answers. After that, he did give the boy a choice of staying at family-type detention homes or going to another relative if he did not wish to return with his mother. But the woman became irate, and since she was his legal guardian, he again went' home with her. It was at the judge's request that he was sent into therapy.
Why do they always keep sending me back to live with that bitch? You'd think the judge would have gotten the idea before now. She's the one I hate, her and my two darling sisters.
It just bugs my ass to hell to have to live with them. If I had my way, I would never so back to them, even if I had to go to jail. That woman is a bitch and I wish she was dead. I wish her dead so much that I'm not afraid to say it to you.
But don't worry. I won't murder her. You must know what my speed is by now. All I do is fuck them and leave them lying there. Once I fuck them good and proper, I figure they have enough of a lesson, so why should I kill them?
I really think it's better this way. If they're still alive, they'll remember what I did to them forever. And maybe they'll tell their friends. One thing is for sure. They know who I am.
And they know that I'm a pretty big man, even if I am only fifteen. Well almost fifteen. Look at me yourself. Don't I look like a pretty big guy?
I'm an even bigger guy when I'm working over a broad. I've got myself a damn big prick, and I know that it hurts them a lot when I shove it into them. And that isn't all that's big about me when I'm working one of them over. I feel about ten feet tall, and built like superman, when they're lying there, crying and screaming all over the place.
They have to be taught a lesson. They all have to be taught that a guy isn't supposed to do woman's work, and he isn't supposed to be treated like a little sissy kid. Sometimes I get so sick of that shit at home, that something happens in my head, and I just go crazy. I start throwing things at the three of them and smashing stuff up all over the place.
That's when I know that I have to get the hell out of there, and find some way that I can work off the steam. If I would have hung around there, I might have done something really bad. Something that I could never take back or walk away from.
It always starts out the same way. I smash up the house, and then I tear out of there. I'm hoping that if I run it off, or get drunk, or get into a brawl with another guy, then maybe I can get it all out of me, and then I can go home again.
I don't even bother going to school anymore. And the bitch just lies for me whenever they come around to get me. She don't want to have no more trouble with me. So she tells them that I run away or something.
If she would just love me a little, and stop doing all the shit she does to me, things might be different. That stupid bitch doesn't know the difference between loving and smothering a guy with all that sick mothering junk. Doesn't she know that I'm a guy, and that's a lot different than the way she's supposed to be bringing up the girls?
Now this is really gonna floor you. When I was little ... I mean when I was a baby, she used to keep me in these little white dresses. I even had long hair until I was old enough to scream my head off about it.
Ever since I can remember, she's been all the time screaming about what a bastard my father was, and how men ain't no good at all. My sisters are eighteen and twenty-one. They ain't never made it with a man.
I have a hunch that they're both dykes, and the other girls that they hang out with, if you can call them girls. Well, I know that they're lesbians without a doubt.
Wouldn't you think my old lady would know it too? She's the one that thinks it's so terrific that they took her advice and don't waste no time making it with guys. That's why I can't blame the girls too much for the way they treat me. It's like they been trained to treat me like that.
It ain't that the girls don't love me. They fuss over me when I feel sick, and they see that I got clean clothes and dinner on the table. My old lady don't even see to that. I think she would a been really happy if I turned gay, the way my sisters did.
Then she wouldn't have to worry about me forcing my attentions on pure ladies. That's the way she puts it, not me. According to her, if a guy was any sort of decent, he would leave ladies the hell alone with his prick.
She says no lady wants a prick, and she only puts up with it, because it's expected of her. And she says that she wouldn't kicked my old man out of the house week after I was born if he wasn't all the time forcing her to make it with him.
Of course, we don't know what all the time is. But if you know my old lady, then you know she must have hit the ceiling if the old man wanted a fuck about once a year, on Christmas. She says he got violent and started drinking a lot.
She says that he forced himself on her all the time, and she cried and tried to fight him off. According to her, he raped her the three times that she got knocked up.
That old bitch don't even know what rape is. If she keeps up treating me that way, one of these days I might just show her. You know, I never yell at her. And I never try to hit her or throw anything at her. I always do all that shit around her.
Somehow I can't make myself beat up on her, even though I hate her enough sometimes to want to kill her. It's all really weird. Because even when I'm hating her enough to stick a knife in her back, I feel like I gotta love her because she's my old lady just the same.
So what am I supposed to do? I gotta get out of there before there ain't no furniture left in the house. And if I hang around throwing stuff, while she's yelling that I turning out I'm just like my old man, I start to feel like I wanna kill her.
I just gotta go out and get it out of my system. They didn't catch me every time I did it. I been doing stuff like this to women since I was thirteen or so. Only I was too skinny then to just get what I wanted from beating up on them, and telling them that I would if I didn't get what I wanted from them.
In those days, I used to carry this big carving knife around. That's the way I got my first piece of ass, and now it looks like the only way that I can really dig on getting it. No, I don't have to use the knife anymore, but I still dig on scaring them into it.
There's plenty of young ass that I can get if I want it. I know I ain't a bad-looking guy, and there are plenty of chicks, even ones a lot older than me, who would spread their legs if I just snap my fingers.
But there ain't no kick in that. It's not much fun when you can get it all that easy. In fact, it's no fun at all. Fucking just ain't no kick at all when they hand it to you on a silver platter. I mean, who needs it?
I'm not looking to fall in love with those chicks. I don't even like them. You know what goes on in my head when I'm fucking one of them, or I have my fist right up against her face? I'm just thinking how much I hate all of those bitches. Especially the ones that remind me of my old lady. Those are the ones that I would really love to beat up on.
A couple of times I tried to make it with pretty young chicks and a couple of them would have gone for me in a real big way, but I didn't dig 'em. Okay, I guess I could tell you the truth. When I was with those pretty young chicks, I couldn't get a hard-on.
They were nice to look at, and I figured that I might have a pretty good time with them, but when they were ready to spread their legs, I just couldn't get it up. I don't care what you say. That doesn't mean that I ain't a man.
And if you don't think I'm a man, then you just go ahead and ask any of the broads that I did fuck. So what if I had to beat up on them a little, or scare the shit out of them.
You can be sure that after I fuck one of them that way, they stay fucked. Sometimes I wonder about those broads. I mean I really think that they kind of dig on being screwed by force. After all, they are probably getting the best lay they ever had.
I can tell they respect me when I see that scared look in their eyes. Too bad I can't get my old lady to look at me that way. Then let her tell me that men ain't no good.
That's about the best part of all of this. I get to see the old lady's face when they tell her that they have me down as a sex offender. And when they read what I was supposed to have done to some bitch, she has to sit there and hear it all.
I want her to hear every fucking word of it. And then let her tell me that I ain't a man. She's all the time saying that men are weak and spineless. Well, of those broads that I raped would ever dare call me shit like that. You have to see the look on them when they identified me. They sure didn't see me as being weak and spineless.
I guess you could say that I get two kinds of kicks out of what I do. There's the kick of teaching a cunt some respect for a pair of balls. And there's the kick of showing my mother how much I hate her for putting me down all the time. Because I would maybe like to kill her, I think that maybe I'm taking it out on all those cunts.
Some cop asked me if I would really like to fuck my mother or one of my sisters, and was that the reason that I was raping all of those broads. I stood up and tried to beat on that stupid cop's face, but they wouldn't let me get near him.
That burns my ass when they ask me stuff like that. And they're always asking that shit. What bugs me most of all is that after a while, I start asking myself the same things. And when I ask myself, there's nobody around to hear the answers, so I try to be honest.
I really do. And I just don't think that's it. I would like to beat up on them, and I know that it means a lot to me that they find out once and for all that I'm a man, and it ain't all that bad to be a man. But none of those bitches in my house turns me on.
Those two are dykes, so I wouldn't have any use for them in the first place. And the old broad is so icy and shriveled up, that she wouldn't be able to even give it away.
So who needs them? I can't handle the idea that I would want to fuck them, so I'm taking out my frustrations on the rest of the cunts. Except there's a little part of that which could ring a bell with me.
I mean, the frustrated part. Not about sex. I get all the kicks I want when I go out on the streets for it. But the doc over at the detention place they take me to overnight, well, he says that there are other kinds of frustrations, and was- the way they were treating me at home, maybe was a reason for what I did.
Some of that jives a little. I told you how I get so mad that I tear the place up. And how I want to kill that old broad. But how can I do shit like that? So maybe they're right when they say that I go out on the streets to take it all out on those other broads.
Because I always feel so great after I do it to them. When it's over, I can even go back to that house and listen to all of that shit again. But not for too long.
After the first couple of times when I got caught, I was itching in that cell, just itching to see her stupid, ugly face when she found out what I did. And now just getting busted, but getting busted for rape. Well, what could be better than that?
I can't think of anything. So I guess they're right when they put it that way for why I do it and I get better and better at it all the time.
I've got it down to where I know just what kind of broads I'm going to go after, depending on what I was mad about at the time.
If I'm sick of looking at my dykey sisters, then it's a young broad that needs a work-out. I just want to make sure that they get a good taste of cock, and don't forget what it's all about. That's what both of my sisters could use. It would straighten them right out.
And when my old lady goes a little too far, which is just about all the time, then she's the one that needs the lesson. All those old broads need a lesson, anyway. They're all so uptight and proper about everything they do. A good fuck loosens them right up.
You know something. There was never one of them that ever said I was a little kid or a sissy. They treat me with the kind of respect that I should be getting at home.
But the first couple of ones that I did were really too easy. All I did was show them the knife and they lay right down and spread their legs. A couple of those times I was feeling all that hurt and mad inside and I was just itching for them to do or say something so that I would have an excuse to beat up on them, even just a little.
With those first couple of ones, I didn't get the chance to beat up on them, but they were good and scared, and I had some pretty terrific hard-ons from them. But the hard-ons and the comes I had from the other ones, well, they were even better.
You just don't know what kind of a great kick it is to smash your fist against some miserable broad's jaw and show her what a man is really supposed to be like. Funny thing about hitting one of them. Just as soon as my fist lands in their face, I feel good all over.
Sometimes I feel so good after really whaling the tar out of one of them, that it don't matter much if I fuck them or not. But then it's like they're laying there, maybe wondering if I got the guts to fuck them after all, and maybe their faces are nice and bloody. So I just gotta fuck them. It's like my solemn duty, to save the reputation of real men all over the world. And you think that bitch of a mother would learn too.
Every time I go home after court, she starts the same shit with me all over again. Only it's worse each time. Because she gives me these sissy chores to do around the house, and carries on with shit like I'm supposed to be more like my sisters. And see what good girls they are, never in any trouble. Why can't I forget about the evils of the male sex, and try to behave like a good person, the way they do.
When she starts throwing that bullshit around is when I really flip out sometimes. Like the time I beat up on my probation officer. I should have been sent away for that one, but they let me free again, and I had to go back in her custody. There ain't no justice in this world. What kind of a stupid guy is that judge?
CONCLUSION
While Kevin's speech was quite vulgar, and watching him as he spoke indicated all the great intensity of the violence that was in him, he was still intelligent enough to realize where his motivations were coming from.
He did indeed look like a savage animal about to pounce at any second, with the slightest provocation.
But once he was given healthy outlets for all that energy like athletics and workshops he began to quiet down. And being away from a sick environment he began to build some self-esteem.
* * *
CASE HISTORY EIGHT
Subject: Tuesday J. Age: Fourteen
INTERVIEW ONE
Tuesday was one of the most innocent run-aways an analyst could hope to meet. In spite of the fact that she was living by her wits alone on the streets of the hippie section, she seemed to have lost none of the gentle and childlike grace that a girl her age living in a more normal environment should have.
For all her interviews, she dressed in simple muslin gowns, and always had ribbons and cloth daisies twined into her braids. It was difficult to associate such a pleasant appearance with the kind of life that she was leading. This became even more difficult as her story unfolded.
I guess you could say that I was one of the lucky ones. As soon as I ran away from home, that very same day that I got off the bus in the hippie section, this bunch of really groovy kids was beautiful enough to take me in.
Some kids have to roam the streets for months before they find a place that they can sleep in. And I didn't have to worry about getting in with the wrong crowd, because there kids were loving and gentle, just like I try to be.
I have to be that way. It's very important to me that I spread peace and love wherever I can, because I never saw any of that stuff at home. My parents were fighting with each other.
And they would call each other all sorts of terrible names and throw things around the house. Sometimes it was really awful, and if one of us kids happened to be in the way, we would get hit too.
After a while, we got pretty good at hiding. But then one night, it got really bad, and my mother went after my father with a carving knife. So I bundled up the little ones, and took them across the street to my aunt's house. And then I snuck up the back stairs, and packed my camp duffle bag, with much food and stuff, plus my favorite dresses like this one. I could have taken some money out of my mother's purse.
But I had some of my own from my baby-sitting, and I didn't want to do one bad thing. Not like they were doing all the time. So I ran away, and that very first night I lay in Robbie's arms and he made such sweet love to me that it didn't hurt at all.
Everything felt so right when I was with them. And making love was so natural from the way they explained it to me, that I was happy and proud that I was going to be included in something that lovely. It was all so good and so wonderful that I really got into making love in a big way. Didn't take me much time at all.
Like our Valentine's ceremony. Everybody got naked, and we gave each other flowers and apples as tokens of our love. When I was laying down and leaning against this cushion, just kind of playing with myself because it seemed like such a natural thing to do, Robbie took his flower and put the stem of it right into my hole.
And then he twisted it around in there for a little bit. You know what he did then? When he took it out, he put the whole stem into his mouth, and then he chewed it all up, just like it was the sweetest kind of candy. I thought that was a very lovely compliment.
Then he sat down facing me, and his legs stretched out alongside my thighs. I was playing with myself again, and he started masturbating too. We were communicating.
"You frig yourself just beautifully."
"And I like the way you do that too."
"Life is so wonderful here."
"Yes. A shame that more people can't be this natural."
It is a shame too. Because the two of us, just like some of the others do, thought that it was the most natural thing in the world to be together like that, and be able to masturbate and talk about whatever came into our heads, going on like that until we came.
A lot of people would think we were crazy. And there are some kids on the streets who might say that we should have been fucking instead of bothering with kid stuff.
I don't know why Robbie got into stuff like that every once in a while. But I do know why I did.
It was because my folks would always wind up fucking, even after they had one of those terrible brawls. My father would say that she had to put out for him, and show him that she respected him. And if she didn't do it, he would start to beat her up again. .That's not what sex is all about. And no adult can tell me that it is. Sex should be making love, the way I do with my friends. And it doesn't matter if we're married or not.
Because this way we have the freedom to choose another partner if our vibes don't mix well. Look at my parents. Because they're Catholics, they say that they're stuck with each other.
What kind of way is that to live? My mother never knows when he is going to take an ax and maybe chop off her head. And my mother can get pretty violent too. It got so that I just couldn't stand looking at either one of them. And the little ones are safe now too.
So I don't see any reason why I should have to go back. They picked me up for being a juvenile, but when I told them my story, they weren't in such a hurry to send me back home. They're still trying to find out where I live. But I guess they still haven't or they wouldn't be keeping me in this lovely cottage with the other girls.
I wasn't the youngest one, neither. Missy was only thirteen. But they took her along with them because Robbie, he's my special, is her older brother. His parents were both drunks, and when he ran away, he was afraid to leave her behind.
You see how we kids stick together, and how we take care of each other? Isn't our way really better than theirs?
And I never did anything really bad. At least not the way I see it. My group never touched drugs or alcohol, and we don't eat flesh. We sing songs in the street for a few pennies, and we use those pennies to buy up the bruised fruit from the vegetable stands.
One man who has a stand like that lilies me especially. And he always has a nice basket of fruit, some of it still pretty fresh, waiting for me when he knows that it's my turn to come around.
Then he takes me into the back of the store, and puts his hand under my dress. Once he felt up my breasts, and once or twice he put his hand into my panties. But that's all he ever did. He just said that he thought I had a lovely body, and it was his way of admiring it. I thought it was a very lovely thing to say to me, and so of course I let him do it. It's only natural, now isn't it?
He gave me such a lovely basket of stuff that time. And when it was time for me to go, he put some carrots and green peppers up on the top, that were so beautiful and fresh.
When I got back to our pad that night, the gang had a real celebration. One of the other girls had made out pretty well too. She had some cheese and bread. With our bottle of fruit punch that we kept making from stuff we had left over, it was a real feast.
Robbie was so very proud of me. He was the one that took me in the first place. He was laying down on his pillows, and playing with himself while I fed him fruit and cheese in little bits and pieces. It was so nice to see the way it was very hard and stood straight up.
I really think that a hard prick is a very beautiful thing. I admire it, and I respect it too. And when Robbie had his worked up to stand there so nice and straight, I had to tell him so.
"I love you, Rob."
"And I love you."
"I also love your prick."
"It is beautiful, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes ... very beautiful."
"The nicest one?"
"We're not supposed to say things like that, and you know it. All pricks are equal here." "I forgot."
"But I do love this one because it belongs to you. Let me have it and I will show you how much."
So I took it in my hand, and then I started to rub it all over my face. And whenever it passed across my mouth, I kissed it to show him how much I loved his prick.
"Show me more." "Anything, my love."
"How about coming up here and fucking me?"
"Never say no to that."
And I did love to make love with Robbie. Because it wasn't anything like what my parents did. When Robbie and I did it, it was all so free and natural, so uninhibited.
Like the way we made love that time. I climbed up on top of his body, and then I put my legs on both sides of him. I'm sure my mother would never have done a thing like that with my father.
All I had to do from there was take his prick in my hand and start to push it into myself. It went in very deep, and it did feel very good. Very good.
I started to play with his little nipples just the way he liked me o, and then I started to bounce up and down on that lovely prick. It really felt terrific to be getting it into me like that.
"So lovely, my dear."
"I like the way it feels."
"Then fuck your little heart away while I lay here and look up into your sweet, pretty face."
You see what I mean? We could be making love, as hot and passionate as could be. But we would never forget to tell each other things about beauty and love.
We happened to be alone in one room of the pad when we started going at it like that. But some of the kids had finished eating then-food in the kitchen and came inside to join us.
Since everything was all so natural in our bunch, I didn't even think of stopping what I was doing when they all sat down on the floor around us and watched. I was so happy to have my dear friends around me at a time like that, that I started to work even harder, so Robbie would be very proud of me, and they would see how much pleasure I was giving him. Especially his little sister.
"Coming! Coming!"
"Let it happen, my love. Shoot all that beautiful white stuff right up into me. I love it so much."
I leaned over for just a minute to give him a beautiful little kiss on the tip of his nose. And then I sat up again and start to hop up and down on his big prick as hard as I could. It was really a great ride for both of us. And the kids who were sitting around and watching us, well they thought it was terrific too. I was very inspired that time.
And Robbie was very inspired too. He started to push his prick way up into me very fast, and pretty soon I felt all that lovely white hot stuff shooting all the way up inside of me. But I kept hopping myself up and down a lot.
But I got a little tired, so I lay down on top of him. But his prick felt so lovely inside of me that I didn't want him to take it away. Missy was clapping her hands. She was very happy for the way that I was taking care of her brother Robbie.
"I love you both so much."
"She did a wonderful job on my prick."
"She should. It's a real beauty."
"You think so too?"
"Oh, Yes Robbie. Yes I do."
"Then how about coming over here and kissing it until it's nice and clean. Tuesday will let you have it now."
"Please, Tuesday. May I?"
"Of course, my dear. It's your own sweet brother."
You see how natural everything is with us? It could never be that natural at home. I could just imagine what my mother would say if she ever came home and saw me kissing and licking all over my little brother's prick. She would have been horrified.
But Missy was only showing her brother how much she loved him. And none of us could see any harm in that. Not even her brother Robbie. She just came up right beside where we were laying.
And then she kissed me on my cheek. So of course, I kissed her right back. Robbie looked at me with such a lovely smile, and I knew that it was time to climb off him and leave him with his sister.
INTERVIEW TWO
I didn't have to leave the room, but because I respected the two of them so much, I moved behind the rest of the kids. It was a way that I could help Missy to be the star attraction.
She was a very shy girl and she missed not having much attention when they were at home. I loved them both so much, that I wanted her to have as much of the spotlight as she wanted with him.
But then when I was watching her start to lick him clean with her tongue, I was very moved by the closeness of the brother and sister. I guess all of us were. But maybe not as much as I was. Because I was so moved that I just had to move up close to her, and start kissing her pretty little neck, and then lick a little at her tiny little breasts.
She already had her brother's prick in her mouth, but she wasn't really ready for the whole crowd to be standing around there like that. So I knew just what to do that would take care of everything. I kissed her ear, and then I started saying things in there to give her courage.
Missy felt so good about the way I was helping her along, that she bent her head right down again, and started sucking away. So in no time at all, his prick was hard again. I don't think they ever tried that before. All of us were very quiet while we watched.
It was a very beautiful happening. We were all very moved to see a brother and sister could love each other so much. She was a very pretty picture bobbing her head up and down on his prick like that. And I kissed her and nibbled at her ear all the time.
That was the first time that I was a little jealous, though. And now I am truly ashamed of myself. It was just that I loved Robbie so much, and I had been thinking of cleaning off his prick myself.
So I looked around the room for another prick to clean, and pretty soon I came up with one. Tod had been working it up the ass of one of my best girlfriends, and it had all this slick brown stuff all over it.
Maybe you would say to me that I should have felt a little sick at the sight of it. Or maybe you would say that it was an awful thing to do. But either thing I would have to say no.
Because you just don't understand the way it is with us. To us, everything is beautiful. And since she was my very best girlfriend, I didn't see anything wrong with going right down on him, and licking all of her stuff and his right off his prick.
And it tasted very good to me. You can think yourself into tasting and smelling good stuff. Didn't you know that? To me it tasted like the most delicious prick I ever had. And especially since I couldn't get to the one that I wanted in the first place.
Robbie happened to see what I was doing then, and he thought that I had learned how to suck prick very well. All of us were looking for enough cash to buy a car together and go up to the woods for the summer. I was so happy to be going along with the rest of them that I was willing to do anything they wanted me to.
That was the same night that we all worked out our master plan for how we were going to get enough money together to buy the car, food and all the camping stuff that were going to be needed.
Everyone of us in the group was given an assignment. Mine was to go back to guys like the vegetable man who was hot for me. And I was supposed to ask him how much money he would give me if I went down on him. That first guy was the one I liked the best.
The others weren't as nice to me as he was. But the other girls in the group were all the time saying that he was the ugliest one of the bunch. Well, I may be the newest member of the group, but I didn't mind telling them they should not think bad things about people just because they weren't lucky enough to be born beautiful like we were.
To me, that man was beautiful because he was always so nice to me. Maybe the other vegetable men might have been younger, or a little cleaner, but they always came on to me like big tough guys.
So I just felt that he was the most beautiful guy of all. I went to him first and I asked hm how much he would give me, just like they told me to. He could have said two dollars or five dollars, and I think I would still have done it for him, because he also gave me a very nice salad that day.
But when he told me that he was going to give me ten dollars, and that he wanted me to keep five for myself. Well, I was very happy, and I knew that the gang would be very happy for me too.
But of course I told him that I couldn't keep the extra money for myself, but it was very nice of him to offer it to me. So when we went into the back room, I got down on my knees in front of him, I did the best sucking that I ever did for anybody.
He was all the time saying that he really didn't understand kids like us. He also said that he couldn't believe all the stuff I was saying about it really being love between all of us. So I knew this was the best way that I could show him that everything I was telling him was really true. I worked so hard at it.
"Do you see what I mean now?"
"Yes, I do."
"Then when I say I love you, you will understand the meaning of it as well. You are a beautiful man."
"And you are a very beautiful child. If you want to get away from that bunch, you could come and live with me."
"No. It wouldn't be the same."
"Why not?"
"Because you remind me too much of my father."
You see, doctor. I do. I think I gave him such a lovely blow-job because I wanted to show all the adults in the world how very lovely it can be when you do it so nice and natural.
Maybe it would have been even better if my parents could have been there to see me doing it with some of those people. If they could just see how beautiful it can all be when you make love instead of just fucking. Maybe then they wouldn't fight so much, and I could even go back home.
Because it doesn't look like I'm going to be able to go camping with the others after all. That is, unless you can tell those people that I'm really all right, and you think I can take care of myself.
They took Missy away too. But the others are old enough to stick together, and I just know that they would be there waiting for me if I would only be able to get away from that place and go back to them.
And that vegetable man would take me back too. I went to him another time and he wanted to give me twenty-five dollars if I would go to his apartment with him on the other side of town for just a couple of hours. It was such a lot of money, and I knew that the gang could really use it, so of course I said that it would be lovely.
I supposed he wanted to fuck since he was going to be giving me so much money and that was all right. Because he had a very nice prick, and it was always so hard and long. It felt a little guilty to be taking so much money from him when we were only going to be making love after all.
Maybe I shouldn't have taken any money at all for something as beautiful as that, but I knew that the gang needed it, and the man wanted me to have it very much.
We had a lovely fuck over at his apartment. Actually, we had two or three lovely fucks, and when he said that he was tired of fucking, he put his head between my legs, and then he ate me for his dessert.
He ate me in a very beautiful way, and when he was done I kissed him all over his body. Do you know why I kissed him like that? I just had to because he was such a beautiful man.
I think that you're a beautiful man too. And if you like, I can show you how much I love you. I can do it right here in this office. I could suck you off if you would like that, and when I am through you could tell me that I am a very beautiful child just the way he did tell me.
I just know that you would because all of the other men that I sucked so we could have enough money to go camping did. They all told me what a pretty girl I was, and what a beautiful, sweet child I was. I wish I had heard some of that stuff at home.
Do you know what I did the other night? I wrote a letter to my parents. I told them about the beautiful life I've been living.
CONCLUSION
To have straightened out the girl's thinking on so many things she had seen and done would also have been to destroy much of her innocence.
In his notes, her analyst said that he felt guilty for having to take away the sweet veil of purity that the girl was still wearing in spite of all she had seen and done.
His was a very sad mission, but the girl's thinking had become so entangled between what was supposed to be right and what was supposed to be wrong that it was the only way to show her the light.
GENERAL CONCLUSION
All of these children had something very strong and positive to say, something of great importance, both to them and their families. But when each of them turned around, they found no one there to hear them.
And so each one of them was forced to take drastic measures to insure that they finally would be heard. While they all took sexual means to get their points across, it was always done because they needed so badly for any adult to hear them, and to know that they were in deep trouble.
Every one of these children saw very clearly the wrongs of the world they were living in. But they lacked the voice and the authority to do anything about it. With sufficient intellect to know that something was wrong, but not sufficient maturity or impact, to force the adults in their lives to sit down and listen to them, they had to resort to the sex and violence of their new lives as a last and drastic attempt to be heard.
With the exception of the young man who had committed numerous rapes, all of these children were one day led back to reasonably normal lives, and could be returned to their families, with greater understanding on all parts.