Large urban communities are more conducive to the growth of animalism in people than are farms. Huge cities are cold, sterile places to many men and women who, in their desperation to find warmth and affection, turn to pets for comfort.
Jennie, 26, is one such person who found the thought of bestiality less and less repulsive to her the longer she lived in New York City. She came to one of the largest urban developments in the world right after business school hoping to find glamour, success and love. Here is what she found in her own words:
"I can't describe to you how excited I was five years ago when I first came to New York. All my life I had been cooped up in small towns and small colleges and now I was sure that I would commence to really live. There were so many people rushing along the streets of Times Square that I was certain that it was impossible to be lonely in this city of eight million. How wrong I was!
"I found a job with a good firm at a nice salary. I was so busy in the first couple of months in New York that I just didn't have time for loneliness. There was the problem of finding a place close to work so I wouldn't have to ride those crowded subways every day. I signed a two year lease on a cozy little apartment in one of those middle-income high-risers. The rent was stiff but I could afford it. I had visions of myself entertaining long lines of attractive young men in my new place. I had the small-town idea that neighbors were, well, neighborly.
"The building I was in held more people than most towns I've been to. Since I had never been lonely in any of those towns I was sure that I would soon be meeting all sorts of new friends. I didn't expect anyone to come around with a Welcome Wagon but I did expect a few smiles at least.
"After the first excitement about the job and the new apartment wore off I began to get keenly aware of my solitude. As huge as the complex I lived in was, I hardly even got to see my next door neighbors let alone talk to them. People came and went in the building with a minimum of social contact. One Saturday morning I took deliberate pains to meet some of the people on my floor by waiting outside in the hall until a door opened.
"I'll never forget that day. I trembled as I gazed down the hall and looked at those closed doors and wondered what kind of life, if any, were behind them. Then the door next to mine opened and a woman in her thirties stepped out with a sullen expression on her face. She didn't seem to be in the mood for conversation but I introduced myself to her anyhow. She stared at me blankly. "I'm running late," she said after giving me her name, and darted down the hallway as if expecting me to ask her for money or make a sexual proposition.
"Anyhow, I did manage to introduce myself to my next-door neighbor, at least, and lingered in the hall to see who else I'd be living with for a couple of years.
"A young couple stepped out of one of the apartments and, again, I introduced myself to them. 'Drop by for drinks later on, why don't you?' I offered.
"Both seemed taken aback by my aggressive show of friendship. They smiled weakly and muttered something about being 'in a hurry'. Like the woman, they seemed anxious to get away from the small-town rube. Later on I found out that those were the favorite expressions of New Yorkers: 'I'm running late' and 'I'm in a hurry."
"My first overtures for friendship fell flat. The woman next to me was a widow who lived alone yet she seemed to be content with her solitude. The young couple never accepted my invitation for cocktails and they seemed to have their own circle of friends that did not permit intruders. That's what I felt like in the building ... an intruder, an outsider.
"I did meet some people at work but none of my relationships seemed to blossom into friendships. To begin with most of the men were married and the few single ones either had girls or were not interested in female companionship. I mostly went out with some of the girls in the office. We went to those Swinging Singles bars that are common in Manhattan. I hated them because most of the men I met were usually in one stage of drunkenness or other. None of them seemed interested in a lasting friendship and only wanted to have one-night stands with as many girls as possible. They had enough girls falling in bed with them so they were spoiled. I made up my mind I wasn't going to be a sex object for a night or a week. If I took a lover it would have to last a little longer.
"One night, out of sheer loneliness, I dropped by one of these bars myself and let this chubby fellow buy me drinks. He wasn't good looking but he seemed sober and intelligent, at least. After three or four drinks I wasn't feeling any pain and I allowed myself to be taken to his apartment. When we were alone he started to feel my body up and I didn't resist. I figured ... what the hell? I had sexual needs like everyone else so why not have them satisfied?
"The chubby fellow pressed me against his bed and pushed my dress up. He pulled my panties down and he kept saying all along: 'Just relax ... take it easy."
"I heard his zipper open and his clothing being removed. Suddenly he was on top of me and I felt his heavy, smooth cock dig into my cunt. Our lips met as he pushed into me. His breath smelt of liquor but mine did, too, I suppose. We were both somewhat drunk but I'm not using that as an excuse. I wanted him; I wanted something to make me feel less alone.
"His prick pushed all the way into my body and he started to pump up and down with strong, virile strokes. Excitement mounted in me like water rising behind a dam. It had been so long since anyone had ever demonstrated this much attention to me that I almost wept with joy. I pushed my body up to meet his. He slipped his sweaty hands under my butts and squeezed them. 'That's it!' he gasped with passion. 'You're screwing good, honey!'
"He kept ramming into me until he had an orgasm. I felt his shooting fluid fill my body and I opened my mouth to receive his probing tongue. His body was heavy on mine but I gloried in the warmth it gave me. For the first time since I had come to New York I was emeshed, deeply, with another living being.
"A door suddenly opened. 'You bastard!' a woman screamed. 'How many times have I told you not to bring your bitches home?'
"The woman was his wife. I had learned another lesson: every man who went to the 'singles' bars was not a bachelor.
"I tried to establish lasting affairs with men but none took. I'm not unattractive and I'm anything but sexually cold. For a while I thought I had found my man when this handsome junior executive invited me out. When he brought me home I let him come in for some coffee. We sat on the sofa and started to kiss. He placed his hand on my legs and pushed it all the way up to my crotch. One of his fingers probed into my pussy and I was ready to go all the way with him. But he didn't press on and left rather quickly. We went out on a few more dates after that but he never got any more passionate with me than he had that first time. Then, one day, he told me why ... he had been made impotent because of a wound he had received in Vietnam.
"I was still willing to date him and even have sex relations, after a fashion, with him but he stopped seeing me because he had revealed his secret. After a year in New York these were the only two affairs, if you could call them that, that I had with men.
"One of the girls I worked with at the office invited me to an inter-racial party. I had never gone out with a black man before so I was thrilled when a very dark, very handsome fellow asked me for a date. He didn't waste much time getting into me, and, before I knew it, I was standing in front of him naked. He ran his dark hands over my tits and cunt and he told me that he had a 'thing' for white girls. Then he stripped off his clothes and I gazed at his smooth, ebony skin. His erected cock was large and throbbing and he thrust it into my waiting cleft. He moved hard and fast. The nipples of my hot tits came to rigid points and scraped against his chest. His orgasm came in a flood and I moaned.
"We lived together for a month, the longest personal relationship I was ever to have in New York. The black man was a bit of a sadist but I stayed on with him because I thought it was better than being alone. It seemed that he only wanted me to show off in front of white men that he could take one of their women. He didn't love me. I doubted that he could love anyone.
"I found out I was pregnant and asked my dark lover what he intended to do about it. I expected that the least he would do is find an abortionist but, instead, he denied that the unborn baby was his. I screamed at him and clawed his sneering face. He responded by beating me up. When I came to my nose was broken and he had deserted me. End of another affair in glamourous New York.
"My next problem was the baby. If my employer found out I was having a child out-of-wedlock I'd probably be fired. When I thought of what my life would be like trying to raise a half-black child by myself I shuddered. A girl at the office put me in touch with an abortionist and I had the thing cut out of me for three hundred dollars.
"I avoided men after that and concentrated only on my work. When the lease was up at my apartment I moved out. In the two years I had lived there I hadn't made a single friend. I moved into a smaller place hoping that a new neighborhood was what I needed. But, as always, people were cold, stiff and suspicious. In New York every friendly overture is looked upon with suspicion because people feel you want something when you talk to them. All I ever wanted was a little warmth.
"I tried sharing my place with another girl but she slipped into my bed one night and started kissing me. When I told her that I wasn't queer she got mad. "Then why the hell did you invite me to share your apartment?' she wanted to know.
"See? That's the paranoia you find in New York. I had thought I was doing a girl a favor by allowing her to room with me but she took my offer as a sexual proposition.
"So, now I didn't dare make any more overtures to females as well as males. People just didn't trust me and I started not to trust them. Who was left? Who could I turn to for a little affection?
"I found a torn cat on my doorstep one rainy night and scooped him up. When I fed the wet creature some milk he purred with gratitude. My heart went out to the animal. Here was something, at least, that wasn't going to use, mis-use or abuse me. When I went to bed the cat, which I named Lover, jumped up next to me and curled himself near my head.
"Lover purred and I drifted off into the best sleep I had in weeks. In the morning I started to talk to the cat as if it were a human being. 'Well, Lover, what would you like for breakfast? Milk? Are you on a liquid diet?'
"The animal rubbed against my bare leg and the sensation was strangely ... sexual. I picked Lover up and held him against one of my bared tits. He leaned over and started to lick the nipple. My skin filled with goose-bumps and I put the cat down quickly. 'You're getting weird, Jennie,' I told myself.
"I knew all I had done was pick up a mangy alley cat but I could not get Lover out of my mind while I worked that day in the office. I began to worry that he would not be home when I got there. I had suffered enough desertions and disappointments in New York.
"When I put the key in my door I heard Lover rush to meet me. He all but jumped up into my arms when I entered the apartment. I held him next to my face and listened to him purr. I knew that he wasn't putting on an act, pretending to love me just to see what he could squeeze me for. There was a steak in the refrigerator and I cut it in half and gave him a large piece. You should have seen the way he ate it! I gazed down at this small, soft, living lump of fur at my feet and realized that, at last, I had found something in New York I could relate to and which would relate to me.
"I really spoiled Lover. I gave him the best of everything but, then, how expensive could that be?-I bathed him and brushed his fur and once tried to enter him in a cat show but it only wanted pedigrees. Soon this cat became the center of my life. I always knew he would be home waiting for me when I got there. My big fear was that he would run off because cats aren't known for their fidelity. Even so, Lover was the most faithful creature I had met so far in New York. He was with me longer than all my so-called human friends had been put together.
"I still had my sexual needs but I knew what kind of trouble I could get into trying to soothe them. One hot night I took a shower and lay on the bed naked with my legs spread. Lover jumped up next to me and, in a silly move, I placed one of my hands over my vagina. 'Now why am I doing this?' I asked myself aloud and took my hand away. People who live alone for some time get into the habit of talking to themselves. I suppose it's a form of vocal masturbation.
"Lover gazed at my nakedness with yellow eyes. He rubbed his head against my thigh and a bolt of ecstasy shot through my body! No man had ever given me quite that feeling. I cupped my hand under Lover's soft belly and picked him up. I placed him on my stomach and I felt my face burn with growing excitement. The small creature was under my complete control. I could do anything with him.
"I placed Lover right on my hairy slit and he clawed at the pubic region gently. Those bolts of excitement kept flashing through my flesh. I took one of Lover's paws and slipped it into my vagina. His claws opened but he didn't try to hurt me. I moved the paw up and down along my opening like a phallic object and my heart began to pound heavily. I took the paw out and gasped. 'Lover ... Lover, will you marry me?' I asked.
"The cat clawed gently at my pubic hairs again as if intrigued by this part of my human anatomy he had never come in contact with before. I cupped my hand under his soft belly and lifted him high over my head. I gazed at the spot where his feline penis lay encased in fur. I kissed the area and felt his tiny tube of sex react. I ran the tip of my tongue over the place between his hind legs and Lover hunched his body. Sexual desire was warming him. I had to remember that he had no female cat in which to love just as I had no male human. We were two of a kind. We had something in common.
"As I licked the soft underbelly of the cat his penis started to erect. It grew out of his fur like a pinky finger or a slim, red candle. I opened my mouth and fellated the animal. Lover pumped his small body back and forth in a fornicating manner as I made oral love to him. I held his tiny, aroused body with both my hands and had to keep his claws from digging into my flesh. A stream of warm, salty liquid squirted into my mouth and I knew he had reached his climax. I kept mouthing Lover until I had taken all he had to offer, and licked his penis as it became limp and withdrew into his fur again.
Lover began to purr after the sexual release and I placed him between my tits. I pushed both of the globes of flesh together so that the inner sides of my tits rubbed against his furry body. My nipples stuck up hard like erected cat's penises themselves. My whole body roared with silent excitement. Never in my life had I ever had such a completely satisfying sexual experience.
"I felt no guilt about making it with an animal then. After so many dashed hopes and lonely nights I was only grateful that I had some kind of outlet. My affair with the cat was a genuine love relationship. What was most thrilling about it was the fact that it went both ways. Lover loved me as much as I loved him.
"When I boarded the bus going home from work every day I no longer envied the people next to me who probably had someone waiting for them. I no longer had to return to an empty apartment; I, too, had someone waiting for me. As soon as I put the key into the door my Lover would come running. No human had ever been that anxious to see me before in my life.
"I began to train the cat to perform other erotic acts upon my body. I poured milk into my cunt and had him lick it up. I spread my sexual opening wide apart so that he could run his tongue along the inner walls of my cleft. Lover also licked my tits when I poured milk over them and I gloried in the feeling of that rough, darting little tongue against my flesh.
"Then, one day after work, I opened the door and Lover didn't come running. I searched the house madly calling for him and then I realized I had left one of the windows open, which was something I had never done before. Lover had run out on me, deserted me like a human being!
"I threw myself on the bed and cried aloud. 'Lover!' I screamed and pounded the pillows. Then I thought that he might have been run over and ran out into the street calling for him. A policeman stopped me thinking I had lost a child. When I told him that it was my cat he laughed and told me to take it easy. He just didn't know how much that animal meant to me.
"After rushing all over the neighborhood I realized that Lover hadn't been run over, and had to face the awful fact that I had been abandoned again. I went back to my apartment, got drunk and fell into a deep sleep. I called in sick the next morning and spent the rest of the day trying to get a grip on myself. He was only a cat, I kept telling myself but this was no comfort at all. The only comfort that helped me was the realization I could always find another animal. But ... I haven't. Lover wasn't just a pet; he was my lover. And, in this big, cold, paranoic city lovers are hard to find. Right now I'm living alone again. My doctor wants me to find someone to keep me company for the sake of my sanity. You see, I had a breakdown after Lover deserted me. I would like to have someone to love, I really would. But, after living in New York City for five years one learns not to be so quick about reaching out to another human being. Animals are safer."
* * *
Eva P., 34, lives in a fashionable apartment in Chicago. Because of the alimony payments she is receiving from her fourth ex-husband she does not have to go to work. She is well-built and on the brassy side. As she gave this interview into a tape recorder, Tarzan, her Great Dane dog, lay on her feet allowing her to rub his body with her bare feet.
"I'm not a bit shy about saying that Tarzan here is the best man I've ever found in my life and, believe me, I've had 'em all. Ever since I was twelve, boys and even grown men have been after my body. I developed early. I had the tits of an adult woman when I was fourteen The first guy who ever made me was my stepfather. I think the only reason he married my mother was to get into me.
"He busted my cherry wide open one night when he crept into my room. My mother, his wife, had gone visiting so he had me alone. 'Eva,' he grinned, 'ever see a man's pecker?' The bastard really believed in the direct approach.
"My stepfather pulled out his cock and waved it in my face. I was both disgusted and attracted by the exhibitionism because, after all, I'm a normal, healthy girl. When the freak sees I'm not going to scream or move away he pulls my pajama bottoms down and chews on my slit. I didn't know it at the time but he always had trouble getting his pecker up and he liked to use his mouth first to get his engine going. He opened the top part of my pajamas and sucked on both of my nipples. I knew that all this was wrong but this was my first real sex experience and I guess I was too aroused to say no.
"He then put his body on mine and rammed his staff into my cunt. I felt something break inside and I knew it was my virginal veil. My stepfather lifted his body and pushed it down slowly, enjoying every inch of the lovemaking. Suddenly he rolled over and let his sperm shoot over my belly. 'Don't want to give you a baby, baby,' he grinned.
"That was the first time. It was hot and quick and it turned me into a woman. Once I found out that I could pick and choose any man I wanted for a husband I picked the richest one I could find. I was only seventeen at the time and what I considered rich was a bald creep who owned a bunch of cabs. He was forty and a bachelor who had a passion for young meat. He wanted me to be his mistress but I demanded a ring first.
"It was a lousy marriage from the start. Once he got his rocks off on the wedding night he realized that he made a mistake in marrying me. All he wanted was a quick, shack-up and nothing more. The creep was a born bachelor who should never have gotten married. He made life so miserable for me that I agreed to the divorce.
"I was too young then to know that I could've milked him for more money so I didn't think I was losing much when I lost the settlement to marry another guy. Number Two was a lush who was out of his skull most of his time on booze so I dropped him after eight months of drunken brawls. Number Three was my first millionaire. He had been married before and I soon found out why all his wives had left him ... he had this sick urge to inflict pain. Before we were married he was nice and sweet but, once he thought he owned my body through marriage, he showed me his other face. When I told the judge about his need to whip my poor ass I got the best settlement of all my three husbands. I would've been satisfied to go on collecting when Number Three went bankrupt through bad investments and I was broke again.
"I hooked into my second millionaire and fourth husband two years ago. As you can see it didn't work out. The character used to bring home teenaged girls and have sex with them in front of me. Well, I wanted to be sure I'd get set for life with the next divorce settlement so I had a private detective get all kinds of evidence on Number Four's passion for teenyboppers. With this evidence I made my last husband give me a thousand a month. The dough will be rolling in for the rest of my life so I'd be a damn fool if I married again and lost the loot.
"When I left the divorce court for the fourth and last time I suddenly realized that I had no feeling for men, none at all. Every man I had married had only been for money. I knew of divorced women who take on lovers but not me. After a twenty year career of marrying all the wrong men I was through with them for life. They were nothing but trouble.
"I didn't want to live alone in this apartment without some kind of protection so I went shopping for a big, tough watchdog. The minute I put my eyes on Tarzan I knew that he was for me.
"Once I brought him back to the apartment I realized that he was more than just a pet or watchdog ... he was company. All my life I had to bear the yappings of human dogs demanding this and that but now that I had a real dog, the animal kind, I realized what I had missed in life and what none of my husbands had been able to give me. Tarzan gave me a sense of security. When I heard his big paws pad across the floor I breathed a sigh of relief because I knew that I was being protected. Every time I used to hear any of my husbands' feet my stomach used to tighten because I knew that they would have some complaint to give or some rotten, perverted demand to make.
"The sex stuff didn't start until almost six months after I had bought the Great Dane. I was in the apartment with him and noticed that he was hot and bothered. The poor beast was in a mating mood and, since he didn't have any bitches to screw, rubbed up against arms of chairs. A couple of times he even tried to mount me. When he did I noticed what a big dick he had and how aroused he was. Feeling sorry for the animal I grabbed his cock and started to masturbate him.
"Tarzan rolled over on his back and panted with happiness as I commenced to relieve him of his burden. His sperm shot out and I had a quick memory of the time my stepfather had released himself outside my body. Men and dogs ... how alike they were.
"Now that the dog knew where to go for sexual comfort he took to rubbing against me anytime he needed release. I got to enjoy masturbating the big, beautiful creature. I suppose my own needs were being satisfied, too. Although I had given up human males I hadn't given up sex entirely.
"The more I jerked Tarzan off the more I wanted even greater intimacies. One morning I got out of bed naked and found Tarzan gazing at my body. I got a kick out of standing in front of him in the nude and he walked over to me. He stuck his cold nose right into my cunt. What a sensation! I stepped back but he followed and pushed his nose right into my sexual opening. Then his big, thick tongue licked inside me and I gasped with pleasure. Men had gone down on me before but none have thrilled me as much as my big dog. His tongue went inside me deeper than any human had ever penetrated during a French job. I let Tarzan lick me and helped him along by bending over the bed with my back against the mattress, my feet on the floor and my legs spread wide.
""If you could only fuck me now,' I told the animal because he had made me ready for a good, healthy screwing.
"Then I figured ... why not? What could be so difficult about getting a dog to make it with a human female? I urged Tarzan to stop Frenching me and had him put his front paws on the bed. I then grabbed his dick which was swollen and getting harder and placed the tip of it over my vagina. Once Tarzan found my warm, slitted opening he erected quickly and his penis slipped all the way into me. Now my dog isn't as well-endowed as is a human male but, as the saying goes: it isn't what you got, it's how you use it.
"Tarzan, my Great Dane, is in an uncomfortable position because dogs don't screw in the human face-to-face way. I help him along by pushing my torso up towards him. His rutting organ keeps slipping out but I keep pushing it back in with my hand. Then he lets loose. It's the first male fluid I had had for a hell of a long time. I'm surprised at the force and amount of his stream; it is about the same as a human male's orgasm.
"When I release the dog he licks my cunt again but this time with increased passion. I turn over on my belly and he licks between my butt halves. The rough, wet tongue against my anus makes me clutch at the mattress because I have to hold on to something in order to control myself.
"Tarzan puts his front paws on the bed again and I feel his red prick probing between my cunt. He's aroused once more and now he wants to make it in his doggy fashion. I try to push my can up so he could get at my vagina but he finds my anal opening easier to get at. To Tarzan an opening is an opening and he doesn't realize he wants to Greek job me.
"Men have screwed me in the rear before and I had never liked it because they always hurt even with lubricants. But the Great Dane's cock is just the right size for sodomy. He rams his thing all the way into my anus with one stroke once he finds the mark and pumps. Since this position is much more comfortable for him he goes like blazes. I grab on to the bedcovers as he bangs away and has another orgasm.
"Tarzan is satisfied now and leaves my body. It takes me a little longer to unwind. I lay on the bed moaning and groaning while Tarzan goes over to his bowl of water and licks it up. All that sex has made him thirsty.
"From that day on we became lovers. I have friends who have female Great Danes they want to pair off with Tarzan but I told them that I'm bitch enough for the dog. They think I'm joking. If only they could see me in action with my animal lover.
"I understand that dogs age seven years for every one in a human being's life. This means that I can't count on Tarzan for satisfaction forever. In another year he will be middle-aged. In a year after that he will probably give up interest in sex. When that happens I'll just get me another dog. Hell, I've had me four husbands, haven't I? Why can't I have as many dogs?
"Tarzan is a quick-study as far as sexual positions are concerned. I've taught him to screw me in the human fashion with him on top and me on the bottom face-to-face. When the bedroom is dark and we're both under the blanket I forget that he's an animal. For all I know he probably thinks of me as another dog. Well, all of my husbands called me a bitch. It looks like they were right after all."
* * *
Bernard, 38, is a bachelor real estate agent who owns the building he has an attractive apartment in. Quiet-spoken, slender and financially secure he could have his pick of several of the single girls who are living in his building but he prefers the company of a pair of dogs; one male and the other female. These are mixed-breeds and rather large. The real estate agent is proud of the fact that the canine pair have accepted him as one of their own.
"I'm not one of these people who turn to animals only because they cannot find satisfaction with humans. I have had intercourse with humans on social and sexual levels but I prefer the company of dogs.
"In college I was something of a sex fiend with the girls, as a matter-of-fact. As a teenaged stud with very active glands I chased anything that wore a skirt. When I reflect on my youth I realize that I was just trying to prove my manhood rather than chasing girls just because I was so wild about them. I don't mean that I'm a latent homosexual or anything like that. The idea of having sex with another male never entered my head. It was just that I was never really satisfied after the most intimate erotic contacts. There was always a certain emptiness within me that indicated I should seek out other forms of pleasure.
"When I graduated from college I took a crack at teaching for a while because it seemed to be the quickest way to enter a profession. I wanted to think of my future because I was in love with a girl and wanted to marry her. At least, I thought I was in love with this girl. She had a good figure, long blonde hair and a very sensual disposition. I probably wanted to marry her only because she was one of the few girls who didn't allow me to get into her panties. Some girls get guys by rolling over on their backs as soon as they're touched while others, more subtle, do it the opposite way by making themselves appear precious and untouched and therefore more attractive than they really are. When I taught school and let the best part of my salary pile up in a bank account to support this coming marriage with my blonde goddess, I began to have second thoughts about her. Suppose I married her, had my orgasm, and then realized she was just like any other girl? I would then be stuck for the rest of my life with someone I didn't care for but would have to care for financially all the rest of her days. One warm evening I decided to sample this golden product before I bought it.
"I took Julie out for a drive and parked beside a romantic lake. She was now so sure of me, I suppose, that her guard was down when I started pawing her tits. 'No, Bernard, no,' she said without much conviction as I peeled away her bra. She was worked up and ready to go all the way. I plastered my mouth against one of her nipples and started to suck. The nipple came to a point under the caressings of my tongue and I knew that she was willing to roll over for me even though she felt the need to put up a phony virgin act.
""We shouldn't, Bernard,' she whispered. 'Just wait until we get married, darling. That will be time enough."
"I couldn't quite believe her so I aroused Julie further by licking both nipples entirely. She squirmed in the car seat and moaned in ecstasy. I peeled off her dress and took her panties down. In the moonlight she did look like a golden goddess more fiction than real. In hurried desperation, I took off my trousers and shorts. Julie, seeing my cock, reached over and grabbed it hungrily. 'I've never seen a man like this before,' she told me.
"With a sense of guilt that I was deflowering a virgin I pressed the girl against the seat. I mounted her quickly and rammed in my prick. For a virgin her slit was loose and I encountered no resistance as I plowed my flesh into her body.
"Julie threw caution to the winds and responded to me in kind by wrapping her bare legs around my thrusting hips. She kissed me hard with her mouth wide open and our tongues started making their own kind of love. I rammed into my bride-to-be with gusto and spilled over.
"'Bernard!' Julie gasped. 'Oh, Bernard, you're the best yet!'
"She said the words before she had time to think. She had given herself away. I was the best compared to what other guy ... or bunch of guys? When I pulled out of her I looked down at her pubic area and found it untainted by her virginal blood. She had been leading me on all along like someone dangling a carrot in front of a mule to make it move. That carrot was supposed to be her virginity but now it was obvious she hadn't even that. With the carrot gone the mule stopped. I washed my hands of the blonde deceiver and went my own way.
"Julie changed my life, really. Because I no longer wanted her I felt free enough to give up the teaching profession which had never appealed to me. I traveled for a while on the money I had saved and, running true to form, I banged broads left and right in every corner of the globe. After being drained of sexual desire one night I looked into the mirror and asked myself if I really did care for fornication all that much. I answered back that I really didn't and that began a period of celibacy for me. Now and then I got the itch for sex but I stilled the feeling by drinking. I never became an alcoholic so my problem wasn't all that bad.
"Freed of the responsibility of loving other human beings I directed all my energies into building up my real estate business. After ten years of effort I reached a point where I could retire full time and not have to worry about working again for as long as I live.
"As a fairly wealthy, fairly young bachelor, invitations to parties, dinners and cocktails came to me in a flood. I responded to a few only to find that girls looked upon me as a 'catch' because of my lofty financial station. I avoided being caught because I didn't consider myself a dumb fish who was born to be a meal for some smart fisherwoman.
"With all my spare time I still felt the pangs of loneliness. I just had to have something, if not someone, to talk to so I bought a dog. She was a big mutt and very friendly and, out of a feeling of irony, I named her Julie. It did my. heart good to order the animal around by saying; 'Here, Julie! Down, Julie!' Unlike her human namesake the dog was very obedient. I could also trust the animal completely which was more than I could say for any human I've ever come in contact with both on a business and a romantic level.
"I had Julie three months before sex entered the picture. Julie was in heat one day and kept rubbing her sexual part against the legs of chairs to masturbate her tensions away. 'What you need is to get laid, Julie,' I told her and patted her back.
"The dog, feeling this new pressure, rubbed up against my arm. I was put off balance by her assault and grabbed the first thing I could as I fell. What I grabbed was her vagina and one of my fingers slipped right into her sexual opening.
"Julie panted with relief and, not wanting to frustrate her any longer, I used my finger as a phallus and thrust it in and out of her body. Sexual release made her whole being shiver and it also aroused my sleeping needs. I opened my trousers and exposed my lust-stiffened organ. I knelt behind the dog and pressed the head of my male member against her vagina. Julie seemed to realize that this pressure didn't come from a finger and pushed back into me. My sex organ was too large for her yet the animal, in extreme heat now, wanted what love I could give her.
"I pushed the head of my prick into the dog slowly and she whined in a mixture of pain and need. I inched in a bit further and the dog, overcome with erotic arousal, pawed wildly at the floor, her eyes bulging. I spewed out my orgasm and Julie whined even louder as she recognized the completion of the male sex act. When I withdrew Julie walked away from me and kept rolling against the floor in the next room. After a few minutes of this she calmed down and returned to me. Smelling herself on my now limp meat she licked me there which caused another erection. The dog kept licking my cock until I had another climax. She ran her rough tongue over the head of my cock to lick up the escaping fluid. It was time for my entire being to shiver now. This had been the best sexual experience in my active love life.
"I suppose there is a sense of guilt that accompanies every initial bestial sex act and I was in torment after mine. I had had sex relations with a dog! This nagging fact forced me into a whirl of social events where I met and laid human females.
"But I could never fall in love with any girl I met. Something in me prevented the birth of genuine romance. I found myself longing for another experience with my dog. At least with the animal I could let myself go and not fear that someone is out to catch me for my money. Julie, the dog, would be just as happy if I were a poor beggar if only she got enough to eat, a place to sleep ... and love.
"In my next experience with the dog I took her into my bed and used my fingers on her sexual opening. She panted and licked me in gratitude. Julie, remembering just what kind of pleasure I could give her, licked my male member until it became upright. I had only wanted to use my fingers but, seeing that the dog herself desired penial penetration, I thrust the organ into her body once more.
"The animal was used to the size of my organ now and I inched into her a little before she pawed at the pillows to indicate she could take no more of me. But, as painful as the intercourse was, Julie still came back to me looking for more love. In the next experience I managed to put my entire sex organ into her body before the animal demanded release.
"I still could not shake off that feeling of guilt so I bought a male dog to supply Julie with the affections she required. I had the animal made sterile because I didn't want to complicate matters with an apartment full of puppies. Because I had bought the dog just to give sexual satisfaction I named him Gigolo.
"Gigolo was true to his name and mounted Julie five minutes after I brought him into the apartment. His penis was a bright red stick of flesh as it rutted into the bitch dog. He was also a rough lover because he liked to bite Julie's ears in the midst of a sex act. Well, maybe Julie, as many of her human counterparts, loved to be treated roughly.
"The three of us settled down to a unique design for living; one human and two animals. Julie quickly became a teaser with two males in the house and she snubbed Gigolo now and then for me just to show him that he wasn't the only stud in the world. Gigolo, in turn, became envious of me because I had so much more meat between my legs than he had. I soon found myself entering into this doggy affair by walking around the apartment naked just to watch the reactions of my pets.
"When Julie was in heat one day I decided to be the one to satisfy her just to see what Gigolo would do. I got behind Julie and inched my sex organ all the way into her and rutted in the fashion of canines. Gigolo didn't seem to like me taking over his only real job and paced back and forth in frustration. When I climaxed inside Julie the stud dog, unable to contain himself any longer, mounted me. He thrust his red stick into my anus and sodomized me while I was still locked sexually to the bitch animal. Since Julie's opening was small and tight I couldn't pull myself out quickly without hurting her so I allowed the male dog to fornicate my anal passage. He shot his fluid into me and then withdrew when he was satisfied. I waited until my own flesh grew limp inside Julie's body before I withdrew.
"As soon as the contact was broken Gigolo surprised me further by licking my sexual parts. It was the first time in my life I realized that animals were homosexually-inclined. My life was now complete."
CHAPTER TWO
DOWNRIGHT RAPE
Ursula 19 was born and raised in Amarillo, Texas, the only daughter of a printing press operator and his wife who worked part-time in a beauty parlor. The family suffered constantly from financial problems. The father was a heavy drinker and periodic alcoholic, and the mother was addicted to betting the horse races. Financial problems brought on constant friction within the marriage, yet despite all of this Ursula had a relatively normal childhood.
She was a good student and helped out at home by taking on the household chores when her mother was called into work at the beauty parlor. She evidenced few anxieties and appeared to be emotionally balanced until she reached her thirteenth year...." Being poor isn't as bad as everybody makes it out. It's simply what you grow up with. If you don't have fancy cars and TV sets and plenty of clothes, you don't miss them, that's all ... Pop worked pretty regular, and we seldom ever really wanted for anything we couldn't do without. We had good credit at the grocer's, so if times was bad we could always get something to eat on the cuff and pay back when times was better....
"Some kids don't like to work around the house, but it didn't bother me none. It was good training. You have to learn that somewhere, or what are you going to do when you have to make a house of your own? Sure, I didn't get to do all the things other kids did, but what did I really miss out on?...." I'll never forget it. I get kind of sick when I think about it, but that's something you never forget. I was coming home that night from my girl friend's house. These new people had moved into the place next door, see, and they had two boys who were always making crude remarks at me. I didn't pay them no nevermind, but they were always around when I went to school and they'd always smart off with some big-time remark about what nice tits I had or something like that......" Well, like I said, I was coming home from my girl friend's house that night and they were out on the sidewalk in front of their place. They was hauling some boxes out and putting them in an old pickup truck they had, and when they saw me coming they stopped and started making remarks. My Pop was working nights and Mom was at the beauty parlor until late, so I was going to be home alone. I don't know how, but they knew that. They kept asking me to have them over so they could show me how two brothers could take care of a girl like me...." I ignored all that stuff and walked right past them and went into the house. I thought they had given up because I saw them haul some more boxes out and pack them in the back of the truck, so I went back to my room and started studying my homework. I bought a couple of apples and oranges back to my room for my supper because I was on a diet and trying to watch my weight....
"I guess it must have been thirty or forty-five minutes later when I heard them come in the back door. I'd locked the front door, but we seldom ever locked the back door because we had a big fence around the yard and no one would come in that way. They must have climbed the fence and jumped into the yard because when I heard them they were walking through the kitchen and calling out to me.
"They didn't really scare me because I thought I could tell them to get lost and they would go away and leave me alone. Was I ever wrong! Benny, that was the oldest came into the room first with a big fat grin on his face. Jack was right behind him and they started kidding me about ignoring such a good thing as they had to offer me. I told them to get lost and they laughed at me, saying they were going to show me what I had missed. Benny told Jack to go check the front door and put the latch on it.
That's when I got scared. I screamed at them to get out of there, and Benny grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back, saying he would break it half in two if he heard another sound out of me. It hurt so much I started crying like a baby and he slapped me real hard.
"He hit me so hard my nose bled, and he laughed at that. When Jack came back, they closed the door to my room and locked it. Then Benny told me they were both going to fuck me, and I could either get with it and enjoy it or they'd rape me good and hard. I brought my knee up in his balls as hard as I could and he doubled over. It didn't do me no good, though, because when I tried to run to the door Jack grabbed me and held me.
"Benny got his breath back and then came over to me. He reached out and squeezed my tits as hard as he could while Jack held me, and then reached down and brought his fist as hard as he could into my crotch. I keeled over from the pain and they both laughed like hell......" Jack held me up with both arms behind my back and Benny started ripping my clothes off. He slipped his hand inside the top of my dress and then yanked as hard as he could. The dress ripped apart right down the front, and then he did the same thing to my slip. Jack grabbed both and pulled them off me from behind, then Benny grabbed my panties in both hands and ripped them right off me. Jack undid my bra and Benny pulled it off, then he ran his hands over my tits and down in my crotch, feeling me up with sort of cruel pinches and jabs......" Benny had Jack tear my dress into long strips, and then they used that to tie me to the bed. They spread my arms and legs as far apart as they'd go and tied me to the four corners. Jack had to get his feels in while Benny pulled his pants off. He climbed on top of me while Benny was getting his pants down, and he rubbed the tip of his slimy cock against my nipples and over my neck. I can still feel that bastard's wet prick oozing drops all over me like that!...." They flipped a coin ... a penny because that's all those sonofabitches had ... to see who would be first and Jack won. He got down between my legs and shoved his ringer up my cunt. God, that hurt more than anything I'd ever felt! I screamed out and Benny slapped me back and forth across the mouth until my lips were bleeding. He said they'd told me to be quiet, and if I didn't they'd kill me, cut me up with their knives and throw me in the alley...." Jack took his cock in his hand and put it at the lips of my cunt and then reared back and lunged at me. It didn't go very far up me that first time, but the pain was so much I blacked out for a minute. The next time Benny had my legs untied and was holding them up around my head. Jack got back in position and lunged into me again. This time he broke through and sunk it clear up inside me. I screamed. I couldn't help it, the pain was just too much for me.
"I could feel Benny's hot breath on my face and Jack plunging his cock into me and I almost choked. God, it was the most awful thing you can imagine!......" When Jack shot his wad I could feel it going clear up inside me, and all I could think of was that I'd be pregnant and have to have an abortion like a friend of mine did when she was fourteen....
"Benny was worse. He really hurt me because his cock was so much bigger than Jack's. And he had Jack hold my ankles so they were at my ears. That wasn't all, though. He said my cunt was too wet after Jack's cum, so he started fingering my ass hole and getting it wet. Then he stuck his fat cock at the edge and rammed it to me. There's nothing in this world that painful! I fainted, and when I came to he was still jamming it up my ass and I fainted again....
"Benny insisted Jack try it that way and Jack had a hard-on from watching Benny, so he climbed up there on me while Benny held my ankles. It didn't hurt as much the second time, but it still felt like someone had run a train up my ass....
"When they finished, they let my feet go and I got a chance. I kicked out as hard as I could and caught Benny square in the balls with the toe of my foot. That one rocked him. He fell back and cried out and grabbed his nuts with both hands. He was really in pain, and there was no faking that! My hands were still tied, so I couldn't get away......" Jack patted him on the back and waited for him to stop crying and gasping for breath. When he could talk, he told Jack to stand by the bed and piss on me. He wanted him to piss in my face, and Jack did it. He stood there for the longest time, his cock in his hand and aimed at me, grunting and sweating. Then it came. Only a drop or two at first, but then a real flood and all right in my face. It stung my eyes and stank up my nose. And when I turned my head away he soaked my hair. I mean really soaked it!
"Benny was so mad he wanted to crap on me. He had Jack tie my legs down, then he squatted over me and grunted, but nothing much happened. He let out one long, loud fart in my face and that seemed to satisfy him. They left me like that, all tied up ... '...." My father came home and found me. He immediately called the police and they had a doctor look at me. He made me stay in the hospital all night and took two stitches in my ass. When I got home the next day, I found the police hadn't been able to find Benny and Jack. They moved out that same night with their family and went to some other state, leaving no forwarding address. That was the boxes I seen them loading in the back of the pickup truck. Later on I found out their Pa owed everybody and was skipping town to beat his creditors....
"They carried the story in the newspapers, even though the police captain said he told them not to, and all the kids at school looked at me like I was some sort of freak. I think what I hated the most was all those phony people coming over to tell me or my parents how sorry they were about what happened to me. Shit! They never so much as spoke to me before, and the only reason they came waddling over was to see me and see what a girl that had been raped looked like....
"...-Physically, I was all right. My tail hurt for a while, but it mended. There wasn't no big change in my life, except maybe inside me. I hated being a circus freak and I wanted to run away to some foreign country! And all the boys made out like I was an easy lay, like I just couldn't live without it once I'd had it. I set them right and wouldn't date none of them. What they didn't understand was that having a boy so much as touch my arm sent shivers through me. I remember one boy holding me at school one day while another one smeared lipstick on my face. I went into a living tizzy and really hurt them both, kicking them in the shins and grabbing one's crotch and squeezing his balls as hard as I could. Two teachers had to break us up and they said I was acting like I was going to kill both of them. They didn't give me no lecture because they knew how I felt, but they sent the boys home and made them come back with an apology for me......" I didn't do too well in school because I seemed to lose interest and the other kids got too far ahead of me in class ... I almost flunked out twice and they really rode my ass about that. Pop stood up for me, though, telling them they had no right to lean on me like that......" When they offered me that job as a maid at the motel, I decided to drop out of school. I had to lie a little about my age, but no one seemed to care too much....
It had these high windows, floor to ceiling I guess you'd call them, and the drapes were like three quarters of the way up the window. There were blinds on the top glass and us maids were supposed to see that they were closed in the afternoon. The people didn't pay no mind to those windows high up because they thought nobody could see in the room, which they couldn't because of the overhang on the building. I could, though, when I was on a ladder cleaning the windows outside on the balcony.
"That's how it got started. I was cleaning them windows one day when a man checked into the room. He didn't see me there and he took his clothes off as soon as the bellboy left. Then he started playing with his cock standing in front of the mirror over the desk. I don't know why, but it kind of got me hot watching him, so I kept real quiet and watched him when he stretched out on the bed and started jacking off ... Afterward, I went down to the toilet and masturbated myself......" I did that quite a bit, but when a couple came in one day when I was working on the windows I really had me a show. They were there for an afternooner and the minute they had the bellboy out of the room they went into a wild clinch. He peeled her clothes off and then dropped his on the floor and they jumped on the bed. She sucked his cock for a minute, but he must have already been hot because he humped her and poured it to her quick-like. I was so damned hot watching them I had to play with myself on the ladder. I even had me a cum like that, and from then on I started looking for couples....
"Well, I never closed the blinds on the rooms I'm assigned. That way I can watch whoever I want. Most of the times it's luck because I have a hard time moving the ladder around the little wall on the balcony without being heard. It's more like I have to be near the room when they check in. If some old couple or a single guy checks into a room, I move on fast and wait in the vacant rooms...." I'm lucky if I get to see two or three a week. They're there, but, like I said, it's a matter of luck...."
ANALYSIS Although Ursula talks like a truck driver, her story is one most psychologists encounter frequently. Rape is a traumatic experience at any age, but in youth it's almost disastrous to the emerging personality.
In most instances (as much as eighty-five per cent according to several well-known authorities) rape during the formative years leads to sexual inversion. The girl, so repulsed by the violent thing that has happened to her, rejects all contact with members of the opposite sex and often drifts into a homosexual behavior pattern.
Cases like Ursula's, however, are also fairly common. She was physically injured and mentally humiliated to a point where she felt she could never place herself in a position to have anything like that happen again. Dating would present, in her mind, a situation where the rape could be repeated. She would, therefore, avoid any and all such situations.
The factors which led her into a voyeur behavior pattern are somewhat more complicated. Ursula emphasized her emotional state after the rape incident, telling us over and over that she felt like a "circus freak". Somehow in her mind Ursula accepted some of the blame for the rape, probably blaming her body and her sexual personality for having incited the two boys to rape her. She then felt a need to be punished for her part in the incident.
In the overall female voyeurism syndrome, rape is relatively rare as a motivational factor, but Ursula's case does provide us with an excellent illustration of what can happen as a result of a traumatic incident of this nature.
CHAPTER THREE
"THE NEED FOR LOVE"
It is difficult enough for an adult to bear life behind the walls of an institution but it is hell on a child. At this writing there are literally hundreds of thousands of children in hundreds of institutions of one type or another, all over the country. Some of these places are juvenile homes, others are mental hospitals, others are prisons, others are hospitals and others are orphanages. Children ranging in age from birth to their late teens are spending their childhoods in drab wards waiting only to grow older in order that they will be sent free to fend for themselves. These are the children who never know childhood.
There are adults taking care of these young ones in institutions but, with so many children and so few grown-ups, the best they can manage is care on a strictly custodial basis. Affection, personal attention are luxuries institutionalized children rarely have.
Yet, sometimes a child especially appeals to an adult and receives this extra attention. And too many times this special appeal is sexually based. Adults with sexual problems have always been drawn to working with children and the people who run the institutions must be careful to weed them out before they can do any harm. Men with erotic interests in little girls and boys are always being fired by institutions after they have been caught molesting their charges, the very ones they have been hired to protect.
But men aren't the only ones who have erotic interests in children. In the past several years there has been a sudden rise in the number of females who have been fired for sexual misconduct with their charges. Sadists, too, are drawn into child welfare. In an institution they have so many little ones to beat and torture. Now and then a child is found dead in the mental ward, home or prison under doubtful circumstances. Murder is another thing an institutionalized child must face.
And kidnapping is another as this unusual case will show:
Perry, age 11.
Anita, age 34.
After her husband was killed in an automobile crash Anita was at loose ends. With no children to support she was free to travel but she did not know where to go. Her husband had been the center of her life and now that center was gone. She felt hollow and empty.
Anita was not one to give her love lightly and she could not bring herself to indulge in passing affairs with men she just met. She found no trouble in meeting men because she was good looking with a full, sexual figure and a warm disposition. Men told her that it was a waste not to share her body with someone who would appreciate it. That someone was always themselves.
Anita considered marrying again but she just could not find the man she liked. Actually she was really looking for a man exactly like her dead husband who had been handsome, kind, thoughtful, generous and everything that rarely comes wrapped up in a single package. Her husband had been an exception and he had spoiled her for all other men.
The young widow had to support herself if she could not or would not find a man to do it. She had gone into marriage right from high school graduation and so she had no special skill. She worked at menial jobs that required no special skill like waitress, countergirl, store clerk and others. One day she was serving behind a counter and a woman who worked at a local orphanage came in and told her that she seemed too good for this kind of job. Anita readily agreed. "But there is nothing else to do," she added.
"Do you like children." the woman asked suddenly.
Anita had always wanted children but she could not have them. The woman told her that the orphanage was always looking for responsible adults to look over the children. The pay wasn't much but she would have a place to stay and meals. And then there was the satisfaction of helping the little ones, which certainly had to be more satisfying than filling cups of coffee and ordering sandwiches.
The young widow agreed and filed her application the next day. Since there was nothing in her past to call for her rejection she was accepted.
The first look at the institution stunned the young widow. It was so terribly drab! Silent, sad-faced boys and girls between the ages of six and fourteen moved up and down the dark halls like wooden creatures.
The orphanage had to be run with a strict, firm hand because there simply were not enough adults to watch over everyone at every minute. The only thing the adults there could do was to herd the children from one place to another as if they were cattle. To take time to talk to a single child was out of the question. The adults in charge had to spread themselves too thinly as it was.
Anita's heart went out to the orphans but she could not seem to get close to anyone special. They were all greedy for her time and attention. They sensed that she was affectionate and they all tried to grab as much of it as they could. Other adults simply turned cold in order to be left alone. Anita knew that she would turn as cold as the rest and just herd the small ones around as if they were something less than human.
One of Anita's biggest jobs was to break up fights that always occurred. She once saw a little boy being beaten by an older one, and she rushed in to save him. The beaten boy was a cute ten year old whose parents had deserted him. His name was Perry.
The little boy flung his arms around Anita for protection and would not let her go. Anita was touched by his pathetic need for affection and protection and she brought him into her office, instead of the room he shared with twenty-eight other boys. She placed him on her lap and soothed away his tears. Anita knew she had to be watching over the ward instead of tending to one small charge but she gave into her maternal need for once. Perry seemed so small and defenseless. He had sad, brown button eyes and dark, curly hair. His skin was very pale and he reminded Anita of those paintings that featured sad, big-eyed children. She had seen many unhappy, beautiful children in the place but none had touched her so quickly and so deeply as this ten year old. She just could not keep her hands off of him. The young widow pressed the child against her body and felt his warmth. And she hoped that he was feeling hers. She did not want to turn cold. She wanted to cling on to her humanity as she clung on to the child.
A fight broke out in the ward and Anita had to leave the boy to break it up. When she stepped into the ward split open pillows were everywhere. She had taken too much time away from her duties to attend one small boy.
No matter how pressed for time was she, Anita always made an effort to contact Perry. The other orphans quickly sensed that he was her pet. They made him an object of their cruelty as they had with all children who seemed to be placed above the rest. When Perry ran into her arms with his face bloody because of another beating she didn't care if she did shirk her duties, she took the ten year old into her office and showered her complete attention on him. Perry snuggled into her arms. "Can't you adopt me?" he asked timidly.
"I can't because I have no husband," she answered. "Every boy needs both a mother and a father."
"I don't care. You're all I want," he said.
Perry's frail voice touched her so much that Anita burst out in tears. She knew the kind of life the boy had to look forward to. If he survived the orphanage he would be sent to a trade school. If he was lucky enough to show any mechanical skill. If not he would stay in the institution until he was eighteen and then, if his mind had not been affected by the time he spent there, would be sent out into the world to make his own way.
In her short time at the institution Anita had seen children broken down by the lack of affection that only a home could provide. Some withdrew and others became violent. Perry was the type to withdraw into a shell. He would not ever see the free world again. Once the orphanage broke him he would be sent to a mental institution, where he would live out his days in a twilight existence.
The only hope the boy had of survival was adoption but he was already much too old for that. Adoptive parents wanted children no older than infants. Anita knew that little Perry was due for a life behind institution walls for the crime of being left an orphan. She decided to save him. The only way he could survive was for her to take him away. It was kidnapping, a serious charge, but she felt that his sanity and happiness were even more serious matters.
It was no great trick for Anita to kidnap Perry. Often the adults who worked at the institution took their favorites outside for a walk, a soda or a movie. When Anita asked permission to take Perry she was readily granted the wish.
As the young widow walked down the long pathway leading from the institution she held little Perry's hand tightly. She was aware that she was technically guilty of a crime once she refused to return with the child but she didn't care. She would not permit her Perry to return to that half-dead existence of institutional life.
In order not to arouse any suspicions Anita left her luggage at the institution. All she had with her was some money and the orphan boy. The young widow wanted to get away as far as possible from the city she had worked in, and spent some of her money on a bus leaving town. The boy was totally off guard and didn't realize that he was being the victim of a kidnapping.
Anita and the boy got off the bus six hours later in another state. Now that she had crossed state lines the young widow was guilty of a federal crime and this would bring the F.B.I, in on the case.
Perry began to realize that this was no ordinary outing. Anita took him on still another bus and they traveled for the rest of the night. The next morning they were almost a thousand miles away from the institution. By now Anita was sure that the people in charge of the orphanage had called the police.
The young woman found an out-of-the-way motel and signed herself in under a phony name that included Perry as her "Son". She and the boy curled up together on the room's only bed and fell fast asleep. Anita hardly left the room for the best part of the next day and ventured out only because Perry became restless. She smiled as she watched the boy romp by himself in the area around the motel. For once he did not have the pressure of many other children about him. And he had Anita all to himself. The young woman informed the lad she had "adopted" him. Perry accepted this right away and he smiled for the first time in months.
There was the problem of making a living facing the kidnapper and Anita sounded out the owner of the motel about a possible job. There was a very low-paying job as chamber maid but, if she accepted it, she would have the room she lived in with the boy rent-free.
Anita accepted the employment. The motel was a perfect hide-away. Since it was summer she did not have to concern herself over the fact that Perry was not at school, something that would surely cause people to ask questions. During her working day peeling off bedcovers, sweeping out rooms and such she kept the boy at her side helping her. Perry did not mind. He was overjoyed at being so close to the woman he loved so much of the time.
This closeness formed the fertile soil of the sexual behavior that was to come. Once Perry followed her into the bathroom where she wanted to take a shower. She told him to leave but the boy wondered why he couldn't take a shower with her. Anita, at first, reasoned that the child was too young to have any erotic drives and removed her clothes. When she stepped into the shower little Perry looked at her lush nakedness with those great, soft dark eyes of his. He took off his clothes and stepped into the shower stall with the woman. Anita turned on the water and ran a bar of soap all over his shoulders and down his back. She knelt to touch his lower parts. Then she discovered that the child was sexually aroused. His tiny, stiff organ pointed right up at her like a finger. Anita was amused by this show of desire in one so young. She rubbed her hands over his young body and the boy reached out and touched her tits. Together they ran their hands over one anothers' damp, soapy bodies. Anita kept telling herself that this was an innocent session in the shower. Mothers of ten year old boys often bathed them ... didn't they?
Yet, despite herself, Anita felt a genuine sexual need fill her. The ten year old was so sweet and beautiful that she had to bring him closer to her body. Perry snuggled up to her as he had done so many times before and she felt his stiffened little maleness against her. Instead of pushing him away the thirty-three year old woman clasped the ten year old boy against her even more. Ever since her husband had died she had never felt this closeness.
After the two stepped out of the shower and dried themselves Anita could not bring herself to put her clothes back on. She enjoyed this nakedness with the child. Again she reasoned that it was all innocent. In nudist camps grown women and young boys are together.
She picked Perry up and he curled his legs around her waist and his arms around her neck. Anita held him by cupping her hands under his taut buttocks. In this fashion she walked into the bedroom with him. Still unable to break this warm, close, nakedness Anita went under the covers with Perry.
The boy rubbed his head between her tits and Anita's nipples stiffened. She had always wanted to have a baby suck her nipples and she found herself offering ten year old Perry her flesh. She placed one of her round, hard nipples against his small mouth and the boy took it as if responding to an age-old instinct.
The mature woman groaned as the young boy pressed against her in oral contact. She had not meant to go this far with the lad but, inch by inch, she neared the experience which would not be innocent no matter how she would try to justify it.
Young Perry had stirred the woman's inner needs and she was becoming less maternal and more sexual. Her naked flesh began to cry for satisfaction. She rolled over on her back and took the boy with her. As his mouth still worked on her breast his stiff finger fo flesh brushed against her sexual area. The touch was electric. Perry brought his head up and gazed down at where the contact had been made. Anita knew that this was as far as she could possibly go but her emotions were now excited to such an extent she had to complete the act.
The young widow pressed her hands against the child's buttocks and pushed him down. His maleness poked into her immediately. She held the boy with both her hands and then moved down and up to start the erotic motion. Perry took over the basic movement and like a little man, he engaged in intercourse with the grown woman.
The pressure of his young body upon her thrilled Anita. She was too aroused at this point to cope with the guilt involved. She embraced his small back and pressed him against her thrusting nipples as he pushed into her.
And then his climax came. The young boy stopped suddenly, confused by this sexual reaction. Anita clamped her fingers over his small rump and held him tight against her until he completed his erotic movement.
When the moment had passed she stroked the boy's fine hair and urged her nipples at him. He took one and continued the oral caressing. His little body trembled at this sexual experience and Anita kissed and fondled him until he calmed down.
After awhile the child fell asleep and Anita stared at the darkened ceiling above her. What had she done? What had made her seduce a ten year old boy? She looked at him. sleeping next to her. His maleness hung limp and child-like. She had taken his virginity. And yet, as guilty as she was, Anita could not help but hold the boy against her again. In this cold world everyone needed something warm to cling to.
Anita finally fell asleep but was awakened about dawn by an erotic dream. She felt that her husband was having intercourse with her. When she awoke she discovered the naked ten year old boy on top of her thrusting into her flesh. In the daylight this scene appeared to look a lot worse than it had last night. "Perry! Stop that!" she snapped.
The child was at the peak of his lovemaking and could not stop. Anita pushed him off of her. As the contact was broken he spewed out his passion against her thighs. Anita ran her hand over this virile evidence in an effort to brush it away. But the smell of it burst through her feeling of shame and guilt and reached her inner needs again. She licked at her hand and now tasted as well as smelled maleness. She thought of her husband. Oh, the nights they had spent together in bed! The things that they had done!
She looked at the naked little boy who seemed stricken by the abrupt rejection of his attempt at love. His finger of lust was hard with wanting. Anita bent towards him and encompassed this throbbing finger orally. Perry was restirred by this new contact and he clamped his little legs over her face. He let loose his desire once more.
Anita knew that she had to end this sexual relationship between the ten year old orphan boy and herself. When she worked during the day she told the child to play around the motel. Once the beautiful boy was out of sight it was easy for her to resolve that she would not have sexual relations with him again. But, when night came, and the boy reached out for her in the dark, this resolve disappeared. Anita gave up any hope of ending the unnatural affair between herself and the ten year old. She gave herself completely to sexual excess. She wanted this child, wanted him in every way. She led the boy into a variety of erotic expressions and she soon had him performing every sexual act possible between a male and a female.
The boy changed. He became much surer of himself and the sadness had left his face. There was power in human love, Anita thought. She had done more for the child than any institution could ever do. This was the justification that made her compromise her guilt. She had cured the child of mental illness by the shock treatment of sexual love.
Perry could have become just as sure of himself and just as happy without the sex but Anita had to excuse her actions somehow. She had to find some reason why she took the child in her arms every night and engaged in sexual activity. She wondered where it would all lead to. She wondered if the boy would grow up with her as her lover.
This was not to be. A month after the kidnapping the F.B.I, found Anita and Perry in the motel. The little boy was suddenly made insecure and unhappy again and he clung to the woman as she was taken away.
The technical charge of kidnapping was dropped because it was clear that Anita had acted out of misguided affection in taking the child away from the orphanage. Still, the authorities could not just let her go free so they sent her to a mental hospital. Once behind the institution's walls Anita recognized the full impact of her guilt and confessed her affair with a doctor for the first time. "I want to be punished," she told him. "Get the F.B.I, again. I have withheld important information. I should be sent to the gas chamber for what I did to Perry."
The doctor took down all the information she gave him but did not call the police or the F.B.I. Why make a bad condition worse? But, while the doctor refused to punish her, Anita punished herself. She brooded over her guilt in seducing the boy into all kinds of sexual behavior even after she was freed. If someone wanted to be punished it was easy enough to find. Anita found hers by destroying herself with drink. It took another seven years but she finally passed the death sentence upon herself when she died of alcoholic poisoning in a charity ward.
About the time Anita was drawing her last breath Perry, not eighteen, was released from the orphanage. His years behind the walls had broken him and he was really not prepared to meet the world. But, because the institution needed space, they released him knowing that he was a borderline case of mental illness. The shy, withdrawn boy worked as a dishwasher and slept in a furnished room. Although he was handsome and girls liked him he could not assert himself. An institution was not a place to learn social skills. The only warm, human relationship he had enjoyed had been with the woman who had kidnapped him eight years ago. He longed to repeat it. Perry looked for Anita all over the country. It was the one thing that kept him sane. When he finally discovered that she had died he went all to pieces. With this only string that held his mind in balance cut, he withdrew from the world completely. Today Perry is living out the rest of his life in a state mental hospital. And, as Anita had once predicted, he will probably die there.
Would Anita and Perry still be alive and happy today if they had not been found? Or would the relationship have eventually led to even greater tragedy? Certainly an affair between a thirty-three year old woman and a ten year old boy was an abnormal one, but couldn't it have been better than the life both finally were thrust into? While the mature woman had seduced the child at least she had given the warmth, the closeness, the love the boy was in desperate need for. There is a healing power in human love ... even in misguided love.
CHAPTER FOUR
"A STAR IS BORN"
Not all relationships between older women and young boys end in tragedies. Many such relationships do both parties a great deal of good. The only reason we do not hear about the happy endings is that the sad ones wind up on police records and in the files of mental hospitals. The only way happy affairs between older women and younger boys are discovered is when the involved parties volunteer the information.
This chapter will explore two such relationships. The now adult men who volunteered the information about their pasts are successful and happily married and they owe their present condition to their affairs with much older women when they were very young. Both men wish to protect their identities so that even the first names given are not their own. This is the only fiction in these cases. The rest is all true.
Keith, age 14
Totie, age 35
Keith was an exceptionally handsome boy, beautiful, in fact, and he was well aware of it. Everyone spoiled him, especially women. As he grew older he assumed that he had a right to be catered to simply because he was so attractive. Because of his looks he became a professional child model and, he soon made more money than did his father. He went into acting and, although he was not very good at it, his looks seemed to carry him through the productions he was involved in.
The theatre world has always had more than its share of homosexuals and the tall, blond, beautiful boy was eyed by some of these men when he worked on stage. While the majority of homosexuals drew the line at children not all were that honorable. When he was only twelve an actor in the company he worked with invited him to his apartment. There, without much encouragement, young Keith allowed himself to be seduced by the older man. It was easy for the boy to fall into the homosexual pattern because he was brought up to assume the feminine role. Boys usually don't depend on their looks to attract attention but Keith did. Boys usually didn't assume that girls would chase him but Keith did. At the age of twelve, when his male identity had not been formed, the pretty boy model-actor moved casually into his first homosexual experience.
Keith found that he enjoyed having other males perform sex acts upon him and encouraged every homosexual he met to partake of his boyish flesh. It wasn't long before he experimented with the more active role in the love-making. By the time he reached the age of fourteen Keith had become a homosexual.
Since the boy was not obviously effeminate he could hide his inclinations. Yet he picked up some of the "gay" mannerisms from the chorus boys he worked with sometimes. His youth and beauty made him the darling of every cast he was in and, the knowledge that he was actively homosexual made him the center of male attention.
Show people have always been more tolerant of homosexuals than those in other professions. They were so common in productions that they were barely noticed. Everyone in the business knew that at least two of the top male movie stars in the country were "queens", and there was some doubt about two or three others. In this tolerant atmosphere Keith stretched his feminine wings. He took it for granted that he had "been born" to be homosexual.
When the fourteen year old boy was signed for a role in a musical comedy, the other cast members thought it amusing that one so young would be so gay. That is, all but the leading lady, Totie, a strikingly good looking woman of thirty-five. Unlike most people in show business she was not amused by homosexuality especially in such a young boy. Totie had been married to a man who later abandoned her ... for another man. She could never get over this assault on her femininity. Although she was a star and an idol of millions of men she could not hold the man she had. It would have been bad enough to lose him to a young girl but not to a boy! This made her feel that she wasn't the woman she had thought of herself as being. After the break-up of her marriage she took on a series of lovers, but she never wanted to commit herself to one certain man again. She wanted shallow affairs that would gratify her sexual needs and no more. The stage provided for all the rest of her needs.
In the musical she was to play Keith's kooky aunt. The boy did not have that much to say or do, but he was with Totie all the time he was on stage. The leading actress found that she liked the boy which was unusual for her. All the other times she could not bear children on the stage with her. They were natural scene stealers. As a matter-of-fact, Totie did not care much for children off stage, either. Yet Keith was an exception. Her affection for the boy was not at all maternal but rather sisterly. She felt protective towards the fourteen year old boy and couldn't stand the gay types in the musical fluttering around him. She thought it a dirty shame that he would one day be like those twittering twerps of chorus boys. Even they had to have been young children at one time.
The musical was taken on a pre-Broadway tour. Totie did not want to see the boy wind up with some homosexual when hotel accomodations were made, so she offered to share her rooms with him."
Keith felt flattered that the lead of the show had taken such an interest in him. The leading man knew that Totie was being protective and informed her, "Sweety, forget it. The kid is already gay. Why try to protect him when he's messed with half the chorus boys by now."
"Why, do you want to share your place with him?"
The actor winked. "Doll, you know I go for the rough trade types. Keith is just too young and tender for me. I'll be interested when he gets bigger and hairier. That is, if he gets bigger and hairier. He looks more like a girl to me."
"He looks like a very young, very lost little boy to me," Totie answered.
When the fourteen year old boy moved in with Totie, the cast understood that she was trying to protect the youngster against homosexuals. Not a single one realized that, eventually, she would make the boy into her lover. Totie had just too many grown men after her to have any desire to turn to young boys.
As the star of the show Totie had the best quarters. It was a simple thing for the hotel to move in an extra bed for Keith since she occupied a suite. The boy was good company, the thirty-five year old actress found. He chatted and gossiped just like ... a girl. His effeminate nature made their sharing of the same suite less unusual. Totie felt as if he were a young actress rather than a young actor.
Totie never gauged the extent of just how far the boy had gone on the road to a lifetime of weird behavior, until she came into the apartment one day to see him wearing one of her dresses. His face was made-up just like a girl and he smiled when he saw Totie. "Did I fool you?" he asked.
The actress knew that protecting Keith against turning homosexual was like closing the barn door after the horse had left. At the very tender age of fourteen his sexual nature seemed to be fixed. Or, was it?
Is it possible to change a boy before he made homosexuality his life?
Would it have been possible to have changed her husband if she had known in time?
The thirty-five year old actress looked unhappily upon the fourteen year old boy prancing about in her dress and in make-up. The idea of what she had to do to save the boy from himself first entered her head. It did not seem so terrible. It was a lot less terrible than having him swish through life in women's clothes and women's feelings.
"Take off the dress, Keith," she said quietly.
"Oh, I thought you'd be amused," he told her. "I'm sorry."
The boy was about to go into the next room, the one where his bed stood. Totie held him back. "Take it off here, Keith. Don't be shy. I've seen boys without clothes before."
Keith, in his self-love, did not turn down the opportunity to exhibit himself. He took off her dress and stood in front of her completely naked. The boy had a good body and his sexual parts were of normal size and unaroused. Totie looked upon this as a bad omen. What other fourteen year old boy would not be stiff with want in the same situation? It was if another female had uncovered herself before her.
"You are nicely built, Keith," she said.
"Thank you," the boy answered fielding the compliment as if he were used to it.
A boy with your looks and build can get any girl he wants," she went on. "Do you have many girl friends?"
"I have lots of friends," he smiled.
"I know. Those chorus kids. They're not for you, Keith. Don't turn out like them. They lead miserable lives. Oh, it may seem like fun while you're still a boy, Keith, but have you seen these middle-aged gays ... these old fags?"
"But everybody is doing it, Totie, like the song goes!" he answered shrilly. "Why pick on me?"
"I think someone should. Someone should stop you before it is too late. And I'm electing myself to at least give it a try."
Totie removed her clothes in front of the boy. While Keith had had quite a few males he had never seen a naked female. He watched with almost objective pleasure, as the thirty-five year old actress exposed her full nakedness to him. Totie, because of the demands of her profession, kept herself in excellent shape. Her tits were high and firm, capped by bright rose-bud nipples. Her pubic area had a light coating of pubic hair so that her slitted opening could be seen easily. She had the body of a girl in her late teens. When she stood next to the fourteen year old naked boy their age difference seemed to disappear.
Keith lost his objective interest and his feelings became more personal. Desire entered his male flesh and filled it out with the hardness of lust. Totie smiled and stroked his show of virility. "You're quite a man, Keith," she said. "At this rate, by the time you're fully grown, you'll be able to make the most jaded woman happy."
She stood closer against him and rubbed his throbbing flesh along her opening. "Here is the place, Keith. Men are supposed to have women. Men are not supposed to have men. That's sickness. Come to bed with me."
Totie took his hand and led the young naked boy over to her bed. She lay on top of the covers and spread her legs. Keith stared at her female part harder.
"It won't bite," the mature woman told him. "I don't care what those miserable gay types have told you, it isn't a bad place at all for a virile young male like yourself to visit. Kiss me, dear."
The fourteen year old could not bring himself to place his body directly atop hers, so he lay next to her and kissed her mouth. Totie responded and placed his hands over her breasts to encourage him to play with these globes of flesh. As the boy did he felt her nipples become stiff and thrust up into hard points.
"Women have the same reaction here as you men do down there," she explained and grabbed his rigid flesh. "Isn't it a lot better for people of different sexes, different kinds of bodies to make love? Two men together make a boring session."
Totie pulled at the boy's flesh, urging him to fall upon her. In an explosion of desire the fourteen year old pressed upon the thirty-five year old actress. His past homosexual experiences were of some use because he was familiar with the erotic use of his body. Keith thrust his raging manhood into the actress and moved all the way. Totie was surprised by his manliness. She hadn't thought that he would be quite this virile.
Keith pumped his desire into the flesh of the actress. Up until now Totie had thought she was only being helpful but now she was caught up in the sensual display. She swept her arms around the handsome child and rammed her torso up against his thrusting body. Desire mounted in both of them. Keith's passionate climax came first. His heart beat wildly and his breath was labored as he unburdened his lust.
It was true that Totie had had many lovers but few had ever brought her to these heights of passion. Her flesh tightened and then relaxed as she reached her peak and then retreated from it. Together the two un-likely lovers; the effeminate young boy and the older and much more experienced woman, moved slowly against each other until their bodies slowly cooled. Totie kissed the boy on the lips, his cheeks and his neck. "You are so wonderful, darling," she sighed. "You must have been doing this for years."
"No," the boy responded. "This is the first time ... this way."
"Tell me about your other ways."
"I better not," he said. "That's ... queer stuff."
"Darling, there can be nothing queer between a man and a woman, there can only be queer love between men. When a woman does this to a man it isn't queer...."
The actress lowered her head until she met his cock. She wanted to show him that a woman can do anything else another male could ... and better. Totie took in his flesh again and, being well experienced in all forms of erotic play, artfully brought the young boy into his full power once again. She heard him swallow hard with mounting excitement as she led him towards another passionate peak. And then it came. It came swift, hard and full of the sap of youth. The thirty-five year old actress clutched at his smooth hips and absorbed all of the child's passion.
She then lay next to him and nibbled his ear. "Was that so queer, darling?"
"No ... no," he agreed with a tremble in his voice. "It was beautiful. The best I...."
The boy stopped himself but the actress finished his statement. "The best you've ever had. And all you've had up until now were boys and men. Time for a change. You'll have to begin with women sometimes. Now, do the same to me."
Keith sat up and fondled her female area. He then bent low to kiss it. The first movements of his mouth were unsure and searching but he quickly mastered the oral act. Totie parted her legs a bit more and watched his blond head bob against her flesh. His tongue swept into her and the woman thrilled to his youth and beauty. He was meant to love women.
Keith, with all the passion of a fourteen year old, fell madly in love with the thirty-five year old actress. The older woman encouraged his affections. Now that he had been introduced into heterosexual behavior she wasn't ready to turn him loose again amongst the homos.
To the rest of the cast the boy was going through some kind of puppy-love stage, but only he and the object of his attentions knew just how deep their relationship went. She did not have to advise him to keep quiet about their affair. He was old enough and bright enough to realize that it would be frowned upon. Totie knew that she was running the risk of a scandal that could ruin her career. It was bad enough for a fully grown man to have sex relations with a young girl, but it was all but unheard of for a woman her age to seduce a boy of only fourteen.
The musical they both were in reached Broadway. By that time young Keith had changed completely. Gone were his "faggy" mannerisms, gone were his homosexual adventures. The chorus boys told one another that the leading actress had probably given him a "good talking to", but none even remotely suspected just how far Totie had gone in pulling the child back from the ledge of homosexuality.
Totie still shared her apartment and her bed with the young boy through the run of the play. When it folded they had to part. The boy wanted to be with his love always but Totie told him that he could easily find another female, one much closer to his own age.
Totie went to Hollywood to appear in a film and young Keith went back to live with his parents. They were pleasantly surprised at how manly their son appeared. They had all but acknowledged the fact that he was destined to be "gay".
Keith went on to other plays and eventually went to Hollywood as a leading male player. Today Keith is one of the top ten male stars in Hollywood. He would have been just another flightly chorus boy if it hadn't been for an actress who met his problem squarely when he was only fourteen. Keith is married to an actress and is the father of several children. No one suspects that he once had had a homosexual past that had been ended when an older woman seduced him.
As for Totie. She is still active in films but usually as a featured player. Her starring days are over and she leads a quiet life in a cottage she owns in Malibu. She does not need money but can have her pick of film roles. None of her films were memorable but she can truly say that she, at least, made a male star what he is today.
CHAPTER FIVE
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU"
He rang the bell. Johnny had the telegram in his hand. Mrs. Wilma Delamor recognized Johnny who lived a few blocks away. The boy and the telegram were dripping wet.
"Hi Wilma-got a message."
"Oh Johnny, you're soaked. C'mon and dry yourself." She read the message-a birthday telegram.
In a few moments, they were on a first-name basis. Wilma Delamor told him, "Johnny, just strip yourself down and leave your clothes over there. We have a hot air dryer around and I'll see that your clothes are nice and dry. But you best get under that hot shower. I wouldn't want you to catch cold."
"Okay. If you're sure I'm not putting you out or anything." He was still shy to the point where he could not bring himself to being normally agressive. It was a pattern that would remain with him permanently. He was one of many adults who could not cope with the mature responsibilities of agressive maleness. "I mean, you may be expecting your husband."
"I don't have a husband," with a slight twinge of distaste. "I'm free and independent and I do whatever I want." Then she motioned to the bathroom. "Go on, Johnny. The steam's clouding up. I'd like you to be nice and warm."
Johnny shuffled nervously in his wet and soggy feet. "Thank you, Mrs ... I mean, Wilma." He was aware of her eyes on him as he headed toward the frosty glass enclosed stall shower in the marble and glass bathroom. It was so pink and feminine here, even down to the statue of a pair of nude Greek goddesses, that it made Johnny wonder what this would lead to.
He closed the bathroom door and quickly slithered out of his wet clothes. He did feel clammy and wet and it was a relief when he finally took off his jock strap. Naked, he caught a fleeting glimpse of himself in a ceiling to floor mirror made of some extra material that precluded steam clouding.
Johnny flushed slightly at his aroused desire. Just removing his clothes created that embarrassed arousal. It was one reason why he hated going to the school shower rooms or locker rooms to change clothes. He knew the other boys would laugh and jibe at him. Some even sidewiped his erection and this made him so red-faced, he would punch and kick at them, while his enormous over-developed power would waver in unison with his swinging scrotum. He was glad to be out of school. Now, he had nothing to hide.
He ran his hands over his broad chest, then down to the flanks. He knew, with a typical adolescent Narcissistic streak, that he was damn good looking. He had let his hair grow overly long now that he was rid of school. It gave him an impish Buster Brown appearance that he knew was appealing. He also favored tight pants, a Mod-style jacket, the latest Nehru or hippie design shirt and the customary motorcycle boots. It brought out the best in him. As yet, he did not know it would be his ticket to becoming a stud for adult women, in lonely apartments and houses on his delivery route.
He stepped into the marble tub and stood under the warm needle spray shower. He let it soak his every pore, thrilling to the sheer goodness of it all. Now the chill of the rainswept outside was vanishing. He dipped his hands into some fragrant liquid soap, started to soap his body, bypassing his sex because he knew that if he would slide his flesh, he would be unable to control himself.
He was so absorbed in the pleasurable sensations of the shower, he had not heard the bathroom door open. Not until a cooling draft made him aware that the door was open did the slippery and soapy boy turn.
"Oh, I...." He was red-faced as he stammered in embarrassment to the older woman, Wilma Delamor. "What ...?"
She gaped at the enormous power that protruded from the boy's groin. "Why, Johnny, are you ... playing with yourself? You shouldn't have to do that. I mean, a nice, handsome boy like yourself should have plenty of girls. And from what I can see, you have lots to offer." She reached out and before Johnny could dart away on the slippery marble tub, he felt her hands enclose around his soapy erection. It sent the most exotique sensation coursing through his loins.
"What ... do you mean?" He felt his throat go parched and dry. His heart hammered. He felt a million pinpricks stabbing into his most delicate flesh. "I wasn't playing around."
"Then how do you answer this?" she insisted, disregarding the flow of the shower that was wetting her expensive negligee. Her breasts pushed tight against her bra; underneath, the nipples were growing rigid and reflex desire. She always thrilled to a youthful body. She was a typical body-lover among adult women. "How did this happen?"
"P-please," he winced, as he felt her fingers tighten around his throbbing male shaft and make a few peck-peck-peck stabs. "I ... I'm always hot. I mean, I get this way when I take off my clothes." He tried to extricate himself but now Wilma had cupped his testicles. The feel of her fingertips on the underside of his scrotum as she rolled his oval spheres around, was the most delicious thrill he had ever thought possible. It was threatening to drive him out of his mind in explosive reaction.
"Then you should have more fun. If you want to make the most of it, you should put it to use." Then she released him, while she ran her hands over his slippery wet buttocks and the rears of his thighs. "You're a handsome young boy. You must drive the girls wild."
With typical pubertal innocence and unawareness, he blurted out, "Naw, I don't fool too much. Girls are always expecting me to do all the work."
Wilma Delamor's eyes were lust filled. "Then you need a few lessons. Just wash off your soap and then come outside. We'll have some nice hot chocolate before the warm fireplace and we'll talk. Oh, you're not on working hours, are you?"
He nodded his wet head. His thick hippie-long hair was plastered to his head and this only added to his boyish appeal. "Naw, I'm too rough. I don't have to go home if I don't want to. The folks left some food for me in the 'frig' because they're goin' to some meetin' or somethin'." He always affected this tough, swagger talk because he felt it made him more masculine.
This was just another of Johnny's attempts to act the male role when, subconsciously, he felt pangs of failure at being able to fulfill the obligations of aggressive maleness.
"Good, good. Maybe you'll even have a bite to eat." She picked up his soggy clothes. "I'll get these dried off." As she bent over, she let her well-shaped bottom protrude so that the boy could get an eyefull. Wilma always derived a warped thrill out of exhibiting herself before pubertal boys. She was an exhibitionistic sort; she could not derive the same satisfaction when displaying her breasts or female genitalia to an adult male, since the latter would be more experienced and beyond the "shock stage". This added to her cravings for youthful boy studs.
Moments later, dripping wet, but pleasingly warm and tingly, young Johnny appeared timidly on the cream colored thick rug of the huge sunken living room. He had wrapped himself in a pink terry cloth robe. Beneath, he felt his throbbing powers.
"Ohhhhh, now you look so nice and cute. Come here, boy." Already, Wilma was seizing the initiative. She would tell him exactly what to do; thus, she would be relieving him of the masculine role that he could not exert. "Now, just sit on this hassock before the fire. Drink this hot chocolate."
Meekly, he obeyed her. He liked sipping the hot chocolate; the lapping flames of wood-burning fireplace made him feel all the better. He looked at the older woman, knowing that she would make the next move. This was so different from his other experiences when the burden of conquest was placed on his shoulders. Now he could free himself from such obligations and provide stud service for his own sexual satisfaction.
"It's sure nice, Wilma, of you," he sipped the drink. "I mean, it sure is a mean night out."
Wilma looked intently at him. She fumbled with her sash. "It's a perfect night to be indoors, before a warm fireplace. Do you feel better?" She put her hand on his knee and felt him start.
"Yeah."
"But you're so excited, so tense. I saw what you were doing in the bathroom. I'm sure you don't have to do that. I'll bet you have lots of girl friends. But you'll probably hurt them. You're kind of big." She let her tongue lap her lower lip. "This younger generation. They're bigger and better. Some of these 12 and 13 year old boys are enormous. You'd never believe it."
"Well, I don't know." This intimate talk made him shy. "I don't fool with boys. But I've had a lot of girls," he made with the typical adolescent brags of conquest. "Some of 'em can't take me. The last girl I had, she didn't let me do it to her."
"Oh? Then what happened?" She let her hand travel up Johnny's inner thigh, exploring his young, firm flesh. "Tell me."
He swallowed as he felt the fingertips search for his most delicate parts. He parted his thighs. It felt damn good to let a girl do it all. He just had to let her work him over, that's all.
"Well I told her to kiss 'it' but she would not."
Wilma was visibly aroused. "Do you like it that way?"
He flushed darkly. "Sort of."
"Put down the cup, Johnny. That's right. Now, I want you to stretch out on this rug before the fire."
Rising excitement manifested itself in Johnny's pounding heart. Every nerve was taut and strained. Every part of him was alive and throbbing. "Yes, ma'am."
He stretched out as directed. A moment later, there was a click. The lights were extinguished. Now, the licking flames from the fireplace created strangely exciting illuminated shadows over the exotique furniture.
With pounding heart, he just lay stretched out. His groin itched with the most maddening insistence. Johnny felt that this was IT.
Wilma stood before him, like a dominant giantess. She resembled the aggressive-superior female image that catered to Johnny's passive attitudes.
"Just watch me." She undid her sash, let the robe fall down. "See? I'm pretty." It was as if she wanted his approval. "Now, I'll take these things off." She unhooked her bra, tossed it to the floor. Her huge breasts bounced free. She had spreading areolas, over a huge part of her breasts. The dividing line was wide. Wilma was showing signs of sagging. Her naked midriff was protruding. The rounded bowl of her tummy would soon sag even further. Now she hooked her fingers into the elastic band of her panties. With a strange exhibitionistic posture, she slithered out of her panties, down over her knees. When she bent, her huge breasts shook and shivered. Finally, she kicked off her panties and stood nakedly before him.
"Gosh, you're pretty." At his age of innocence, 16 year old Johnny could not differentiate between firm and flabby flesh. A naked girl was a naked girl. It was this innocence that endeared him to these warped adult women. "Can I touch them?"
She laughed as she squatted beside him, then took his flesh in her warm hands. "You're so silly. Of course, baby boy, you can touch them." She let him fondle her breasts. "Pinch the nipples. That's it. Now, run your hands down over my stomach. Ooooooo, that's the way. You have a nice touch. Now, touch me ... there ... go on ... GO ON!!!!"
Johnny still hesitated. A childish fear of punishment for touching the forbidden genitalia still pervaded his arrested sexual maturity. "Okay." His hands found her vulvar groove and now he parted the lips. He inserted one finger, make her yelp. He played that way as she closed her thighs on his wrist. Then she twisted her body.
Her mouth was everywhere.
Johnny went rigid with sensual arousal. He released his finger. He cared naught about exciting Wilma. All he now wanted was the excitingly delicious feel of her hot lips and nipping teeth as she started the oral route that would culminate in fellatio.
"Ooooooo, that feels good," he gasped as he worked his arms out of his terry cloth robe. "That's the way. Go all over me. Ahhhhhhhhh," he made other garbled sounds and whimpers of pent up tensions. "That's the way...."
"I'll just kiss you to pieces," laughed Wilma, already flush-faced and writhing with ardor over her young boy stud. "Youth, youth, so nice and firm." She turned him over. "Bottoms up, baby boy." She worked swiftly to slide the robe from beneath his quivering body. Now she had him naked and hot. "You've got a beautiful body, Johnny-boy."
He pounded the floor with both fists in another moment. "Yeeeee ... OOOOO ... ooooooo...."
Wilma had taken his buttock cheeks, pried them apart, then her tongue stabbed until the helpless boy screamed, "I'm going crazy, Wilma. Now! I want it now ... oh please, please...." He was burning up. A hammer slammed itself at the base of his skull. Every nerve, every fibre was alive and throbbing and demanding release.
"Yes, baby boy, oh yes," she used her mouth up and down the broad back, then she turned him over. "You're a hot kid," she whispered.
Her head dipped. While she tweaked his nipples, she let her mouth roam into the most provocative reaches of his flesh, while her fingers twisted flesh, cupped his oval spheres in each hand and prodded gently.
"Easy, easy," in a tight voice as the boy reared up, thrust forth his pelvis. "Ahhhhhhhhh, orrrrrrragr ... mmmmmmmmmm," he was sighing as his hot, feverish male flesh was now immersed in the cool oval cave of lustful captivity. "That's it . ... ooooooOOOOO, now, it's ... it's...." His body tensed up.
Every muscle and every fibre grew taut on his sheen-glazed young physique. There was a split second of tension. Johnny thought his head would be torn loose.
His blood pounded.
He wanted to scream.
Suddenly, the dam broke loose!
He shrieked as he felt the eruption sear through his groin. Wave after wave, tidal wave eruptions ripped through his innards and spewed forth in a series of hot, torturous eruptions.
"Mmmmmmmmm, ahhhhh," gasped Wilma as she savored of the Fountain of Youth. She kept on and on, creating the most agonizing sensations while the boy's very elixir of youth ebbed forth.
With a great heave and sigh, the depleted Johnny sank down on the ground again.
"Oooooo, Wilma, that sure felt good. Ahhhh, it was great, Wilma." He felt so happy, he wanted to sing. This older woman really knew the tricks. He always wanted it this way.
Wilma laughed shrilly as she released him; then she squatted beside him. "Here, Johnny, be a good boy. Just rub. Ahhhh, you young whelps really know how to grope a girl." Then she checked herself. She had to refrain from referring to herself as a "girl" since she was well past that desirable age. Still, this young boy made her feel so young.
Oh, so young again.
"That's the way. Use both fingers." She tightened her milky thighs on his wrist, imprisoning him. She looked positively ecstatic and delirious with joy. "Ooooooooo, it feels nice. Keep on. Rub my little button."
He wrinkled his brow. "Button? What's that?" He kept on finger-manipulating her pudenda, fondling her mons veneris, inserting his two fingers to simulate coitus. "I dunno."
"Never mind. Never mind. With what you have," she fondled his still rigid maleness, making him shiver and laugh, "you don't have to care about what a girl has."
A few more manipulations during which Johnny said, "My hand's getting tired," and then Wilma felt it.
"Little more ... ahhhhhh, now...." She constricted her pelvic muscles, rocked on her heels, threw her head back; her saucer-round breasts rolled on her rib cage. Her tummy kept going in and out. Her mouth opened wide; she made sucking sounds as she erupted into a manual-induced orgasm. Again and again the rocking spasms tightened.
Johnny was fascinated with it. He was actually giving a "hand job" to this older dame. He never thought dames went for it. He did not really care. Right now, he felt that the pressures of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. The yoke had been removed. This woman had done "the book" with him and all he had had to do was lie back and let her take over. It was wonderful!
He reasoned, could he ever get a girl his own age to do that? Obviously, no.
Much later, the two of them washed in the shower. It was kind of groovey, to use Johnny's own expression, to have this older woman soap and wash him, then fluff dry him. It made him feel so comforted. So secure.
"Now, you be sure and go straight home," Wilma admonished, after she watched him put on his dried clothes. "I wish we could have something to eat but there's no time. I've got to play cards with some friends."
He flashed a grin, looking more boyishly mischievous than ever.
"You ate plenty tonight, ma'am. There's lots more, when you want it."
"Just give me a call. I'll write my number down."
There were many such get-togethers. Wilma was one who liked to dominate a boy and use his body for her own oral cravings. She disdained normal intercourse; she always said it was hurtful. She had a neurotic attachment to her "independence", and did not want to surrender it to a man and this made her an aggressive fellatrice, (a female who performs fellatio or oral-genital orgasm).
As for Johnny, he has met other women on his telegram delivery route. Some are in their late 40's. All are "hot" for a young virile boy. He is slowly becoming completely passive where he just lies inert while they perform their oral acts upon him. Otherwise, he is unable to function. Here is a typical example of the type of boy who is sought after by adult female pedophiliacs. He is normal in almost all respects except that his libidinal impulses have become fixated at the pure-physical level, and he seeks satisfaction solely by means of his own orgasm. There is no emotion, no feeling of love or affection. One can only wonder at the fate of Johnny and many others like him when he has passed his prime of life.
Will he then be able to reconcile with the obligations of masculinity?
Or will he experience a serious traumatic shock? Time will tell.
CHAPTER SIX
"From the Rear a Message"
Sodomy is a word derived from the story in Genesis ... a city called Sodom was located near the Dead Sea, together with another city of Gomorrah. It is said that both cities were riddled with vice, incurring the wraths of Heaven which led to their destruction by fire and brimstone caused by volcanic activity.
The cities were subsequently buried. Here in these cities of the Jordan valley, chosen by Lot after his argument with his Uncle Abraham's herdsmen, there was much debauchery and sin. One of the vices of sodomy was that of penis intromission via the female anus ... or anal eroticism as we call it today. Of course, sodomy, named after this city, is usually spoken of in a purely homosexual relationship. Sodomy is also named for bestial-animal contacts. But the truth is that sodomy is a term describing penetration of the buttocks of either male or female ... and as we shall note, it is becoming increasingly prevalent among male-female contacts.
Prof. J. Brodwisk said, Fordham Medical Association:
"Anybody who does anything which we consider abnormal must ipso facto, be abnormal to do such a thing. But it is difficult to talk about sex impulses being abnormal.
"Our society says that there must be rigid controls; our culture demands a repression or control of the sex impulse in certain ways. As regards a small child, it is perfectly proper to have laws to enforce these controls.
"But as to whether an individual's impulse toward a child stamps him as 'abnormal' ... well, I would hesitate to accept this. Some Indian cultures consider it a crime not to have child marriages before puberty.
"However, I think our society certainly should protect the small child, and if we find an individual who either cannot or will not control such impulses, society is justified in permanently segregating him.
"As for a person who commits a sex murder of a small child, there is no question that he should be dealt with by using whatever maximum penalty the law may prescribe."
True, there are some sodomy-rapes between mutually acceptable couples (in varying degrees), it is important to emphasize that compulsion and force is tantamount to rape. Enforced sodomy, often upon sub-teen girls, is a crime worthy of punishment. One story deals with mature people to whom sodomy is still a twisted temptation.
"THE SODOM SEX ACT."
One such patient reported that her husband preferred sodomy to normal coitus. Part of his gratification was derived from the pleasure of causing his wife pain (anal-sadism). She stated that she had to bite the pillow in order to endure the acute discomfort she experienced during the insertion of her husband's penis into her rectum.
"Analysis of the husband disclosed a pronounced sadistic component which was traced to sexual excitement during childhood with acts of cruelty involving domestic animals.
"There was also a history of several homosexual experienced during pubescence which consisted of acts of pederasty with several boys of his own age."
So we see that sodomy-pederasty is occasionally spurred by a homosexual urge. Also, there is an element of sadism as we shall see in succeeding case histories.
Pederasty is a symptom of latent homosexuality. A woman who is face down is a man in the same position. Therefore, the husband who performs a sodomite act upon his wife satisfied his homosexual desires at the fantasy level.
Some men prefer pederasty, according to Prof. Brodwisk, because they associate the rectum with something "unclean." Also, since the anal canal is taboo in sex, it is more erotic for the participants. The same applies to most sexual deviations.
The women who enjoy sodomistic actions are seen to have strong masochistic elements.
"There is sufficient evidence to suspect that the severe repression of anal eroticism in our society accounts to a large extent for the development of feelings of 'embarrassment, shame and wrongdoing,' which feelings are then connected with the much wider variety of acceptable sexual patterns not necessarily directly concerned with anal eroticism.
"By instilling extreme feelings of aversion against 'dirt' during the early years of life, Western education is conditioning the individual to associate sexuality with the excrementitious. In this way, both scatological and genitalerotic interests are condemned to share the same subterranean existence in the limbo of repression.
"The same deep-seated cultural aversion to anal eroticism is undoubtedly at least partially responsible for the severity of our sodomy acts which extend also to marriage partners, and the pentalties for which in some jurisdictions are only surpassed by those for murder, kidnapping and rape."
A manual on the technique of sex has this suggestion for sodomy between acceptable adults:
Rear entry intercourse can be accomplished in a rather pleasing variation when actual entrance into the vagina isn't desired.
Such a circumstance may be caused when a condition of the vagina or uterus makes regular insertion painful for the wife. It is also an interesting variation for novelty's sake.
The woman lies on her stomach with legs spread well apart. The husband lies over her then inserts the shaft between her thighs. The husband must be careful to support most of his weight on his elbows and knees. Many husbands think they can rest all their weight on the wife in the averse or pursuit arrangement. The wife feels the man's weight as much from the back as from the front.
With the phallus manipulated in this arrangement it glides gently over the sensitive folds of the woman's flesh and clitoris. The wife should adjust the pressure of her thighs to match the friction usually offered by her vagina on the male member.
If difficulty is encountered with the shaft slipping away from the anus, the wife can use a hand to assist in keeping it contacting her. However, little trouble is usually encountered as the natural angle of the erect penis tends to keep it against the wife. The woman sometimes desires to assist with her hand to increase the pressure even if no trouble is encountered with the phallus.
If the wife turns her head to one side, the couple may engage in kissing.
Rear-entry position is frequently used when the husband is too large for his wife to receive him from the" front. But many wives object to the rear-entry position because it reminds them too much of animals copulating.
The rear entry from the side may be utilized when the partners wish to drop off to sleep without separating the organs.
The woman raises her top leg and the husband fits his top one in between. In this position the insertion is made and the copulative movements performed. The man's hands may encircle the woman to produce the added stimulation the wife may need to overcome the natural drawbacks of the rear entry position.
After the orgasms have occurred, the couple may drift off to sleep without breaking the connection and with the husband's hands encircling his wife's breasts. This is a variation that is very pleasing at times, but should not be indulged in when the love play has left the couple needing a shower.
Passionate wives often find that they cannot get to sleep unless they are able to hold the penis. This natural impulse should not be discouraged unless it inconveniences the husband. In that case, a convenient position should be devised. The simplest arrangement is for the couple to sleep on their sides, the woman back of the man. Then all she has to do is extend her hand over her mate until her desire is satisfied.
The position is unimportant. The important thing is to remember that the wife's desire must be satisfied. Oftentimes, however, it is the husband who can't get to sleep.
The anus of the female is extremely nerve rich. Oddly enough, contrary to popular belief, the vagina is poorly supplied with nerve-endings. Proof of this fact is that very few females masturbate by making deep vaginal insertions. They limit themselves to stimulating the wall of the base of the clitoris or manipulation of the clitoris, itself.
But the sensitivity of the perineum (region beneath and uppermost betwixt the thighs) is one of the reasons that the wearing of tight pants in the female stimulates erotic reactions.
The crotch point (the region of the perineum) is, because of the larger female hips, pulled back tightly against the female perineum. This pressure being exerted stimulates sexual reactions; it is considered one of the reasons for the popularity of tight jeans among teenage girls.
THE SEX POWER OF THE ANUS. Regarding the anus, this is a source of much erotically significant muscular reaction. The source is in the contracting of the muscles (the anal sphincters) which normally keep the anus closed. The rhythmic opening and closing of these muscles fascinates most people sexually.
The anal and genital areas of the female share some muscles in common; the activity of either area may bring the other into action.
Anal intercourse owes its existence primarily to this common use of muscles and the rhythmic contractions which result in sexual arousal.
Regarding the female buttock cheeks, this relatively large area is especially responsive to the touch, particularly in the case of the female. Being both a sensitive area sexually, the buttocks are often used in such violent activities as spanking and whipping. Orgasm is often attained in this way.
THE ANAL-BUTTOCKS COMPULSION. Here is a narrative taken from pre-therapy as conducted by a noted psychoanalyst. The man who talks is one who has a deep-seated desire to perform anal intercourse.
CASE HISTORY ... Roger B.
"I have always been interested, extremely so, in a woman's buttocks, especially the intriguing indentation between them. I have found it a fascinating subject of study. This is one reason I like very tight pants on a well-shaped female. Not so tight that they are stretched like a drumhead flat across the buttocks. This is the exact opposite of what I desire. And no girdles, please. Just tight pan that dip in right where they should.
"I had a sexy girl friend in high school; we went together for a couple of years. The relationship was purely sexual. She had attracted my attention by wearing tight blue jeans and Levi's. In those days, the girls could wear pants to school.
"We used to look for opportunities to stand close together. That's why we didn't mind crowded buses or standing packed together along the sidelines at a football game or at a pep rally.
"Lily G. would stand in front of me, her back to my chest. I would wrap my arms around her. Then she would spread her buttocks inside of her form-fitting pants and press herself back against me. She would also move herself against me.
"One variation of this was especially effective, Lily would pretend to drop something on the floor. Then she would lean over to pick it up. This would tighten her blue jeans, and she would in the process, push her little fanny against me. As she was straightening up, she would keep her bottom pressed hard against me. It was thrilling, experiment with this act while unclothed. The first time was when we slipped away from a group while on a hike.
"Blue jeans were slipped down. Panties and shorts quickly followed. She pressed her bottom against me and leaned over. It was too much for me, and I had an orgasm before she straightened up.
"But on following occasions when I had become a little more used to the sensation, we were able to indulge in this act for five or ten minutes before achieving an orgasm.
"I never made any attempt at this time to have anal intercourse with her. It was friction that held my interest. Even after we had consummated our first sexual relations, we still enjoyed this "different" sex play.
"Lily and I eventually parted. I dated quite often in college, and any girl that caught my eye was sure to have deep, full and flexible buttocks. I would say that about half of the females allowed me, at one time or another, to indulge myself in my favorite sexual pastime.
"Needless to say, when I finally married, I had found a little "playmate" who was something of a replica of Lily. She caught my attention at a discotheque. She was doing a hip-swinging dance. The tightening and loosening effect was being demonstrated by her clinging pants which were following every subtle move of her fanny.
"I spend a lot of time in back and a lot of time in front. (He refers to his variations ... he performs vaginal intercourse and anal intercourse.) Whichever pleased me more?? I do not know! I haven't kept track of the orgasms achieved either way.
"But I will admit that if I had a choice to make, I'd have an extremely difficult time giving up the pleasure of her buttocks.
"I've been doing a lot of reading lately, and I have learned that this type of thing can indicate latent homosexuality. I don't worry too much about it, but I decided to discuss the matter with the doctor."
* * *
In this case, we see that anal intercourse has become a fixed part of the man's life. Fortunately he has found a willing partner. What if the wife is unwilling?
In succeeding case histories, we shall see the sexual problems that arise out of compulsory female sodomy.
Just as in the compulsion for oral sex (the sex parts are taken into the mouth and suctioned to the point of orgasm), and intercourse represents a byway. It is regarded as a variation by many, but an abomination by still many others.
Because sodomy is often used by sexual criminals, this sexual method has become despised and degraded. Yet, evil often attracts seemingly normal persons, and for this reason, anal intercourse has a bizarre attraction for many ... males and females!
CASE HISTORY:
Shaney
Age: 22
SEXUALLY MATURE. (This report appeared in a privately circulated collection of intimate case histories.)
"When my husband inserts his finger in my anus ... I just go all to pieces...." Shaney explained to her therapist with a shudder after considerable coaxing. "But that's all he will do. He thinks any more is abnormal ... and it's about to drive me out of my mind!"
Married only three months, Shaney was referred to a psychologist suffering from extreme nervousness and mental exhaustion.
Relations between her and her husband had become very strained to the point where an argument erupted every time they even tried to talk about sex.
At first, Shaney was very reluctant to admit to her therapist that sex had anything to do with the problem. It was only after she finally broke down with the above confession that it was possible to pursue the point.
Here is a revised summary of the cogent excerpts reported from her later revelations:
"I thought it was pretty awful and perverted the first time too, doctor ... I ... I had kind of a nervous breakdown then. But I solved that for the moment by dropping out of college and running away to Europe to take a job with the government.
"I was still a virgin in the junior year of college. I dated quite a lot, did a lot of playing around, but I had no great difficulty in keeping the guys in their place. It was mainly that none of them could ever get me aroused ... you know....lubricated, even when he kissed my tits and played with my cunt.
"He accused me of being very cold. I wanted something ... wanted it very badly. The only trouble was I could not determine what it was I wanted from sex.
"The night that I found out, it scared me to death. I was at a drive-in movie with this foreign boy. He was an exchange student from the Near East.
"As usual, we were kissing and loving more than we were watching the movie. It was my third date with Riev and I let him go pretty far.
"He was very full of compliments about how firm my tits were when he managed to get my bra unfastened. And that same old frustrated feeling came over me when he had his hands between my legs.
"I parted them for him, but it was still no good.
"Then while he raved on in both Turkish and English about how I was just built for pure love, he leaned over to kiss my thighs above my stockings. I pushed him away at first, but not too much.
"I felt that what he was going to do was wrong, but at the same time I wanted him to. I had never been kissed there, and I thought maybe that was what it was I wanted. Now I had no intention of letting him have intercourse, but I just wanted to see if that could ... well, turn me on.
"I edged up to the front of the seat for him and held my skirt up. Riev removed my pants and began talking about how beautiful and unspoiled I was. The kisses ... were different. They made me feel tingly ... but even more frustrated. Riev only smiled at me when I looked at him with an apologetic expression.
"It was the most knowing smile I had ever seen on a man ... scary, hypnotic even. And I only protested mildly when he moved me so that I lay on the front seat, on my side, my head over by the right door, my legs at a right angle under the dashboard. I was afraid.
"I didn't know what he was going to do, and I could not see him too well from that position.
"He patted my naked hips and buttocks gently, and I felt those tingles again ... not really passionate, but as if things might be going in the right direction.
"His fingers were nice. They played across my bottom and upper thighs. And then ... I began to feel different. His fingers fondled between my buttocks until one found the right place. I shuddered with real passion for the first fime in my life!
"Riev kissed my hips and probed further. His tongue laved my deep gorge, and he actually stuck the tip of his tongue ... all the way in. I shuddered with real cravings.
"My whole body shook with response to his kissing of my cunt. I'm sure I must have said some crazy things because I remember trying to get up desperately ... not so he would stop, but so I could kiss him and feel close to him for making me feel so wonderful.
"But ... when he tried to ... enter me that way, I suddenly tightened all over. I wasn't afraid of the pain or the difficulty ... I found out about that later, and welcomed the bitter with the sweet.
"But suddenly, I had the feeling that this was a horrible unnatural awful thing to do!
"He begged and pleaded with me. He explained in detail how it was beautiful, natural, wonderful ... and that men in his country enjoyed their women that way quite often.
"None of his pleas would change my mind. I had suddenly discovered the one thing which could make me so passionate. I could reach the point of no return if I continued.
"Life was pure hell after that. I didn't date because I knew I would try to get the boy to do something (sodomy-intercourse) like Riev had done ... even more. I had a nervous breakdown, but I refused to see a doctor.
"I had to escape ... not to where I would be free of my crazed sexual desire ... but where I could give of myself freely and wantonly ... to an environment where I wouldn't feel so terribly freakish.
"I knew some girls who had gone to work in Europe for the government. Their letters told me that things were different over there.
"This one girl who was a 21 year old virgin when she left had written back things like, 'Went to a mad party last night and met a sexy Frenchman for the first time. He kissed like I've always heard the French did. Ooo-la-la! I don't mean just on my lips, girl! But everywhere!'
"Within three months, I had a job as a secretary to an American Company in Italy. It was one party after another, one lover after another. They were always willing to make love my way first in order to get what they wanted. Oh it was great, I tell you.
"I became what you people call a devoted slave to passive pederasty. I had the dresser mirror arranged at my apartment so I could watch while a handsome lover prepared me so sexily and then grabbed my hips to bring us together.
"Being made love to like that became commonplace. Even the Americans I dated were thrilled to try it. Except ... for Paul. I guess I was foolish to play the virgin with him. It ... got me what I wanted ... a handsome young husband with a good job. But he will never satisfy me ... unless...."
PSYCHOLOGICAL COMMENT: Shaney's basic selfishness is obvious, a trait common to the analerotic. She sought therapy not as a means of changing HER ways but in attempt to have the therapist play marriage counselor and try to persuade her husband to change his ways.
In a situation of this type, counseling of both partners is often desirable. And initially a compromise is sought.
The husband is made to understand the wife's problem and to see that it is not hopelessly aberrational. The wife on the other hand, is asked to understand her husband's attitude.
In Shaney's case, copulation was not offensive to her as long as she was initially satisfied with pederasty. Through training and conditioning over a period of months or longer, it might be possible for her to achieve orgasm through regular coitus if anal foreplay is indulged and digital pressure exerted during the genital act.
She may never completely outgrow her anal eroticism, but reducing it to the secondary stimulation can be achieved if she will try hard. And a longer analytical therapy could possibly achieve even more satisfactory results.
Many analerotic wives feel shy about suggesting this to their husbands, and this creates friction that may destroy the entire marriage. It is essential for a couple to establish a sexual understanding and mutually acceptable method of gratification. This is wiser than going through marriage and life in frustrated bitterness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"ANAL INCEST"
Incest is described as any form of sexual relationship between members of the same family including close relations such as uncles, nieces, cousins, aunts, and so forth. Some of these sexual acts can mean no more than two young brothers or cousins masturbating one another and it can mean the most unusual and damned act of fornication between mother and son. While mother-son incest is rare, father-daughter incest is only too common.
The most typical incestuous relationship involves an older man seducing a younger member of the family. In this study on analism the incest described in this chapter will center mainly on sodomy. The subject who gave the next story is in her late twenties but at the time of her seduction by her uncle she was just a child so that her age at that time will be given instead of her present age.
CASE HISTORY:
Debbie, age 10.
"I loved my Uncle Al when I was a kid. He was very good-looking and seemed to be like a teenager even when he was well into his thirties. He had been married once but that broke up after less than a year. Any time my parents talked about it they hushed up when I was in the area. I had the idea that it had something to do with Al's ability to make love. Now and then I caught the word 'impotent' which seemed to be important. When I asked an older girl in the neighborhood what it meant she told me that it had something to do with what a man had between his legs. Sex in those days was all so terribly mysterious and thrilling at the same time.
"When I saw my uncle I couldn't see anything wrong with him. He seemed healthy and happy to me. Of course, I had never seen what he had between his legs. The only completely naked male I had ever seen was my three year old brother. I liked to bathe him because he gave me an opportunity to enlarge my knowledge about the male anatomy. Today girls can buy dolls of male babies which are complete in every anatomical detail. I didn't need a doll. I had my little brother.
"In a way I suppose I shouldn't be too harsh on my uncle for seducing me the way he did. I had my incestuous feelings too. When I bathed my three year old brother I delighted in playing with his sexual parts. I tried to imagine what a grown man had there and I tried to imagine just what was Uncle Al's problem, the one that made him lose his wife.
"Uncle Al was interested in me. He always took me places. Sometimes he'd pick me up in his arms, kiss me and say, 'I wish I could marry you."
"He always said this in a half-kidding, half-serious way so that I had the feeling his interest in me was a lot deeper than I dared imagine. At that time I had received all the usual warnings about not allowing strange men to pick me up or offer me rides in their cars and candy. I coupled this, somehow, with Uncle Al's affection for me. He wasn't a stranger and yet there was a certain cloud in our relationship that I could not quite perceive.
"Things came to a head the night Uncle Al slept over. My parents had someplace to go and my uncle was going to be the baby-sitter. I was delighted at this prospect because he always spoiled me by allowing me to stay up past the time I was supposed to go to bed.
"He made sure that my three year old brother was asleep and came into my room with the intention of telling me a bedtime story. He was wearing a bathrobe and I was surprised to see his bare legs sticking out under it. I had the feeling that the robe was all he had on. Uncle Al slipped into the bed besides me and started telling stories. As he spoke he massaged my stomach with his hand and it felt very comforting. He brought his hand to the rest of my body as he spoke on. Now I was become strangely thrilled. His hands slipped over my sexual area and around to my buttocks. Uncle Al ended his final story and said in a thick voice, 'You're very pretty, Debbie. I wish you were mine."
"He rolled against me and something long and hard swept over my legs. When I looked down to see what it was I could see his erect sexual organ. This was the male thing between his legs I had wondered about. Since it was so long and stiff I assumed that was his problem. How much wrong could I be?
"I was hypnotized by the sight of my uncle's nakedness. His robe was spread wide and I could see his entire body. 'Don't be afraid, darling,' he said, caressing me. T won't hurt you. I just want to have a little fun."
"His idea of a little fun was to pull down my pajama bottoms. I tried to hold onto them yet I could not bring myself to object. My ten year old sexuality, whatever it was, had been aroused. Somehow I wanted to let my uncle do what he wanted with me.
"I wasn't raped in the forcible sense. Uncle Al was really quite gentle with me although his hands trembled and he breathed hard while he touched my vagina. He brought the tip of his aroused flesh against my sexual area and an electrical thrill shot through me. 'See,' he said excitedly, 'Lean do it!'
"Naturally I didn't know at the time what he meant. He seemed to be proud of the fact that his male part was so stiff and long. He took my hand and placed it against his object. He instructed me to masturbate him. My fingers curled over his organ and I pulled back and forth. His object seemed to become harder and longer. When I had bathed my little brother I had been fascinated how his sexual member changed sizes. But Uncle Al's organ seemed exceptionally large. Was this the impotent problem, I asked myself again?
"'Debbie, oh, Debbie!' he gasped and rubbed his object against my hairless little sexual opening. This time he hurt and I told him so. He apologized immediately. 'I won't hurt you, I sware,' he assured me. 'I'll do it in another place."
"Uncle Al rolled me over on my stomach. He kissed my bare and upturned buttocks. I felt his tongue dart inside the crack and lick against my anus. He was tickling me now in a very unusual way.
"At first I thought he was playing some naughty game like 'doctor' but I found out this was something more than just a game when he thrust his object inside the crack of my buttocks. I felt that heavy, hard, snake-like thing move along my rear again and again. My uncle kept breathing heavily and I heard him talk to himself about being 'able to do it'.
"Something warm and liquid spilled over my anus. I thought he was urinating or that I was having a bowel movement. And yet it was like something I had never felt before. For a brief moment I thought that Uncle Al's object was bleeding and I turned. As I did I saw his erect male flesh shoot a milky liquid upon my half-naked body. 'It's cum!' he explained. 'That's where babies come from!'
"I was confused by his statement and then I connected it with my scant sexual knowledge. Fathers went to bed with mothers and had babies. Fathers did something to mothers with their male objects....
"I cried. T don't want to have a baby! I'm only a little girl!'
"'No, you won't have a baby,' Uncle Al assured me. 'I'd have to put my thing in here.' He placed his finger against my young vagina. 'In the behind nothing will happen. Here, let me clean you off."
"He picked me up in his arms and took me into the bathroom. As he held me over the wash basin he cleaned the substance from his body off me. Then he placed me on top of the closed toilet bowl and licked my rear again. I looked at our reflection in the medicine cabinet. Uncle Al had left his robe behind and was completely naked. His object had shrunk and now, instead of standing up, it was hanging down to about half its original size. Were male parts supposed to act like that?
"Uncle Al held me in his arms and kissed me directly on the lips in a very sensual way. He kissed me as a man would kiss an adult woman. As he did he kept clutching my buttocks. He seemed very drawn to my rear area. 'Debbie,' he said, 'promise me that you won't tell anyone what we've done tonight. Let this be our little secret."
"I promised, fully aware we had done something that we shouldn't have done. I felt a large part of the guilt. I considered myself as being responsible for at least a portion of the seduction. For this reason I dared not tell my parents anything.
"After my initial introduction into sex by my uncle we began to have relations on a regular basis. Most of the time it was of an anal nature.
He loved to thrust his sex organ between my butts until he climaxed. Now and then he would perform oral acts upon me, including the licking of my anal area. Once he tried to get me to perform an oral act upon him. He told me that all I would have to do is take his sexual part and use it as I would a lolly-pop. I hesitated. His aroused organ was huge and fearsome to a ten year old girl. Uncle Al didn't force me to perform that act and nothing more was said about it. You may find it hard to believe that a child seducer can be kind but Uncle Al was.
"Our incestuous relationship lasted two months. It ended brutally when my father caught us in the act. He thrashed his brother and I went hysterical. My father thought I was crying about the sexual activity but I was crying about how badly Uncle Al was being beaten.
"At first my parents wanted to have my uncle arrested but forgot about it when they knew what an experience it would be for me to give testimony in court. Uncle Al went away and never came back. I don't know where he is now. I just hope that he has found happiness with a woman near his age. You see, Uncle Al was only impotent with adult females. This was something I found out later. Grown women frightened him and made him feel inferior. Young girls, on the other hand, posed no threat to his manhood. With a girl of ten he could become virile again. I can't feel any hatred towards Uncle Al, only pity. After all, he did not rape me. He only engaged in a mild kind of analism that did not hurt me."
Debbie is correct in asserting that child molesters are men too terrified to address adult women. With children they do not have to fear rebuff. Impotency drives many men towards children and it is little wonder why so many child molesters are the familiar "dirty old men". Younger men, like Uncle Al, also look upon children as sex objects and cannot resist the easy availability of young girls and boys if they are in the same family. There are men who would not consider picking up and molesting a strange child but they become less inhibited when their own nieces, nephews, cousins, and even sons and daughters are so available to them.
CASE HISTORY:
Rosanne, age 15-Joe 17.
"I was the only girl in a family of five boys so you can see where I would have problems right away. Two of my brothers were older and the rest were younger. I was a very pretty kid and my brothers, in the midst of their sexual awakening, would try to catch glimpses of me while I was dressing. Some of my earliest recollections are of my brothers fondling me in the dark. My oldest brother liked to have me sit on his lap while he ran his hands over my body. As I sat in his lap I could feel him become aroused sexually as his penis grew and stiffened. As the only girl in a house of boys I received a very early and complete education in sex.
"The second youngest brother was even bolder in his designs on me. He would tell me flatly that he'd like to see how my breasts were developing. Then he'd cup his hands over them. My oldest brother always drew the line as if aware that his desires towards me were not healthy. He finally found himself a girl of his own and he stopped wanting to hold me in his lap.
"His place was taken over by the second oldest. I know now that I should have objected to his advances but, after all, I had sexual drives of my own. Somehow I was thrilled by his attentions. When his sex organ became aroused when I was in his lap I liked to rub my buttocks back and forth over it just to excite him. I knew what such excitement did to boys. He'd suddenly have to excuse himself and go to the bathroom to clean up his orgasm.
"I guess this sex play developed a need for anal intercourse in Joe because he ignored my barely budding breasts to run his hands over my buttocks. When we were alone in the attic once he pretended to get mad at me for some reason and said, 'Now I'll have to spank you, Rosanne."
"Oh, I knew that he was sexually interested in me when he bent me over his knees and spanked me gently across the seat of my jeans. I could feel his aroused part just under my vagina. Joe was fifteen and I was thirteen at the time. At fifteen a boy is fairly well developed sexually so he had adult needs in a young boy's body.
"'I should spank you like they did in the old days,' he said, his voice trembling. 'I should spank you on your bare bottom."
"I made some token show of resistance but the idea of revealing my nakedness to Joe thrilled me. I suppose I was seducing him as much as he was doing the same to me in that attic. He pulled down my jeans and then panties.
My buttocks were now completely bare. He spanked me with his open palm a little harder than he had before for a few times but his sexual desire got too much for him. He placed me on the floor and opened his trousers. Joe pulled out his prick which was in an aroused state. He lay upon me and placed his organ between my butts and shoved it against my anus. I felt it slide in. There was pain and I squirmed but Joe was too excited to stop now. He pushed his cock all the way into my rear and had an orgasm. I felt his lust flood my anal passage.
"When he pulled his prick out he told me that he was sorry and for me not to tell anyone. I guess every young girl who had ever been sexually used by an older person had heard that. I promised him that I wouldn't and we didn't even speak to one another for days after that.
"But the sexual experience had affected both of us. We both wanted more. When Joe invited me into the attic again I knew what he wanted and I was willing to give it to him. He didn't waste time with games now. As soon as he locked the door to the attic he placed his hand over my rear. T want to see your fanny again,' he told me.
"'But you hurt,' I said.
"'I'll go easy this time. I brought some vaseline.' He showed me a big jar of vaseline he had taken from the bathroom. For a moment I didn't know what he meant but I found out soon enough.
"We stripped completely and gazed at one another's body. My tits were hardly noticeable and I was about as flat as my brother. He had a patch of pubic hair over his sex organ and his body was firm and muscular. I had a few strands of pubic hair but my vagina could clearly be seen through them. Joe rubbed his hand over my sexual opening and thrust his finger in. While we were still standing he placed the tip of his aroused flesh against it and pushed into me for about an inch or so. I knew enough about sex to realize that he could make me pregnant so I jumped back. A second later he had an orgasm. He spewed against my stomach and I placed my hand over my vagina to prevent a single drop from entering me.
"Joe fell to his knees and placed his mouth against my cunt. He grasped my small butts hard and dug his tongue deep into the opening. I don't know where a seventeen year old boy had learned such sexual acts but my guess is that sex, in all forms, comes naturally to the very young. Only as we grow older do we declare some acts acceptable and some not. In the attic we were definitely doing unacceptable sex acts. My own brother was performing cunnilingus upon me.
"He licked my legs, and turned me around where he ran his tongue over my buttocks and anus. He turned me around again and licked up the sperm he had spewed out over my stomach. In curiosity I picked up a small gob of it and sucked it off my finger. The sperm had a slight, salty taste to it that was not unpleasant. I wondered what it would be like if Joe had thrust his organ into my mouth and then climaxed. See, even as a fifteen year old I had these adult sex thoughts.
"My 17-year old brother licked my entire body from toe to head. He pressed his mouth hard down on my little nipples and sucked. I couldn't see what I had to excite him there. When he stood up straight he was in a sexually erected condition once again. He told me that he wanted to make the anal intercourse as comfortable as possible and had me bend over and place my hands against the wall to brace myself. He had me spread my legs wide and he stood directly behind me. I felt him thrust vaseline into my anus and then saw him grease up his male parts. Joe then held my hips tight and began to sodomize me carefully.
"He pushed his first inch in and then paused. 'All right, honey?' he asked.
"Keep going, Joe, I answered, it feels nice."
"He pushed into me a bit harder and faster. Soon his entire prick slid into my anal passage without, any trouble. Joe hunched over my body and started to pump as I had seen dogs do on the street. His strokes were even and smooth and my entire being trembled with desire. He pushed down into me deeply and became still. He climaxed.
"On the third visit to the attic I performed fellatio upon my 17-year old brother. I wanted to take him this way before he used me anally because I felt that it would be cleaner, if you know what I mean. As he lay naked in the sunlight that came streaming through the only window of the attic I took his sexual member orally and did not turn away when he climaxed. Later on he performed an oral act upon me. Most of our relations were of an anal nature. I licked his rear area the same way as he had done mine. My anal passage became so used to a thrusting male organ that I no longer felt any discomfort in sodomy.
"I guess we were lucky in that we never were caught. Joe got an attack of guilt and refused to touch me. He begged me to forgive him for his sexual designs. I thought that there was nothing to forgive. I felt no guilt in the incest. Quite the opposite; I had enjoyed my seduction."
Rosanne proved that the "victims" of some sex cases involving children are not. harmed by their experiences. This is one of the reasons more incest cases are not brought to light. The young "victims" find their introduction to sex a happy experience. They do not complain and they go along with their seducers in not revealing their "secret".
Children have a natural desire to be caressed and fondled. It is difficult to know when "normal" caressing and fondling ends and an "abnormal" interest begins. Men with a sexual desire for children usually appear the kindest of people. They love to have small boys and girls sit on their laps while they pet them. The children are quick to sense when someone likes them and they encourage the men by flirting. Although the adult may resist the urge to go "all the way" with a child the need to do so is always there, lurking beneath that quite, gentle surface.
The two cases revealed in this chapter are heterosexual in nature, because the majority of child seduction affairs involve older males with younger females. Homosexual incest is not uncommon although there are five cases of heterosexual incest to every one involving two males. In homosexual incest analism is more prevalent and the young boys involved are even less likely than girls to complain about their seducers. Young boys are much more willing to experiment sexually and so can more easily be talked into erotic play.
Incest does not always mean an adult seducing a child. In many cases only children are involved as shown in the last story. While Rosanne and her brother were teenagers even younger brother and sister sets indulge in all sorts of sexual experimentation. Anal intercourse is popular because children realize that they have to avoid pregancies. Of course, there are children who are not that much aware of the dangers of genital sex, and this causes family heartache when girls as young as ten and eleven are found to have been made pregnant by brothers not much older than they. Abortion, in these cases, are easy to obtain. The children who restrict their incest to anal intercourse eventually weary of it as they go on to adulthood, usually without any of those terrible psychological scars so often spoken of by excessively concerned people.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"GOLDEN FINGERS"
Kathy had married at the age of eighteen. During the next twenty years she followed her husband from Navy base to Navy base across the nation and overseas. Her parents had been wealthy and socially prominent and when their daughter married a common sailor, who they knew would spend his whole life in the Navy, Kathy was disinherited.
She never regretted her decision. In spite of the hardships, in spite of the large separations, she had lived a happy life, and she still loved her husband.
He was now Ensign Robert, one of the highest ranks an enlisted man can reach. The crisis in their life began when he was assigned to a large Navy base in Connecticut. Part of his new duties involved courier work and he was away from her about two weeks of each month.
During those days, Kathy, not thirty-eight, began to think very seriously about her past life. Often, she sat for hours trying to recall incidents and conversations from their past experiences together. She also thought a lot about her childhood and her parents, now old and feeble.
As a child, Kathy had received an excellent education plus all of the "cultural" extras that a rich girl is bound to get. Her parents had given her music lessons, language lessons, and dance lessons for many years. Probably, her most profound disappointment in her marriage was that her husband had absolutely no interest in either music or dancing or literature. While thinking about her past, Kathy began to experience an emptiness as she thought of the many concerts and plays her parents had sent her to.
During my interview with her, she described her feelings to me:
"I would sit there, often weeping, and snatches of music from old concerts and bits of dialogue from old plays would come into my mind. I cannot really describe why, about twenty years of having nothing to do with such things, I should suddenly be almost overwhelmed by them. And overwhelmed is the right word. It was almost a sexual feeling. It was as if my body needed cultural events like a woman who had been in prison for twenty years needs the sexual power of a man when she is released.
"I had to fill that vacuum, quickly, at almost any cost."
There was a small club of Navy wives on the base which attempted to hold various cultural events. Kathy contacted them and joined. The club would meet once a week to discuss a current book, or they would go into New Haven to hear a concert. When her husband came back from courier duty and heard about her new venture, he laughed and made fun of it. But he did not prevent her from going to the club meetings or the events. For that, at least, she was extremely thankful. The moment, however, she began taking an interest in cultural affairs, their sexual relations suffered. Neither of them could understand it. The one overwhelming fact of their marriage was that after all that time, they still took great pleasure in each other's bodies.
Kathy described the change which played a large part in her subsequent indescretion with a child less than half her age.
"It happened so suddenly. In one night our bodies became cold to each other. Robert came into bed and slipped his hand under my pajama top, firmly holding my breast. His hand was not feverish as it usually was when it stroked my breast. I began to kiss him. But nothing happened. There was no change in my feelings. It was as if my lips were pressing against a piece of wood rather than his surging maleness. I became frantic and my lips reflected it. Quickly, I spread my legs, begging him to come into me, to make me once more feel that rush of hot seed as it was injected by a stiffened flesh.
"But he did not enter me. We just lay there, looking at each other, our eyes reflecting our torment. Then he left the bed and went into the bathroom to drink. I followed him and curled at his feet, trying to apologize. But there was nothing to apologize for. It was the fault of both of us. Something had snapped. Something had gone out of our life. Neither of us knew whether it was a permanent affair or one of those temporary states which many married people go through."
When I asked Kathy if she tried various aids to help their sexual relations along, she replied:
"Yes, for awhile I did. I bathed him in warm water, trying to arouse him. I delicately scented the most precious part of my anatomy, and while he was lying in bed, I proceeded to rub his lips and face with it, hoping to transfer my body heat into his mouth, hoping to bring forth his tongue and let it enter the hidden openings. But nothing happened. I knew it was somehow connected with my sudden revival of interest in music and the arts. Robert probably believed, subconsciously, that I had betrayed him." The next day, after her attmept to arouse them both through various aids, she met David, the fifteen year old boy who was to have such an important part to play.
It happened at one of the club meetings. Kathy arrived expecting the meeting to be just another get-together that would discuss the forthcoming cultural events. Instead, the recording secretary of the club announced that David, the son of an officer at the base and a piano prodigy, had agreed to play for them.
The women were quite enthused because they knew that the boy had already performed several concerts and had been received by critical acclaim by some of America's most outstanding musical commentators.
They held their breath as he sat down at the piano. David was a tall, thin boy with long flowing hair. His face was delicate and beautiful. His skin was white and the black hair and eyebrows made a firm contrast. He began to play. The women had never heard such playing before. David captured them, body and soul. They forced him to play encore after encore until the boy was exhausted.
But none of the women fell under the boy's spell as quickly and as totally as Kathy. She could scarcely breathe as he played, the magic of his fingers seemed to constrict her chest muscles. She described that first meeting months after it happened, but the drama of the situation was not diluted by the passage of time:
"David's music seemed to enter into my body directly rather than the usual course of through the ears. Every pore in my flesh opened to receive those wondrous sounds. My eyes were riveted on that classical, intense face, so immersed in the music that only his delicate nostrils moved.
"And then there were his fingers. Watching them, I was only a few feet away, my eyes seemed to be glued to their movement. Never have I seen such hands, tender yet strong, thin yet steely, passionate but schooled in discipline.
"My thoughts soon went away from the beauty of his music. As his fingers darted up and back on the keyboard, I wanted them to dart up and back on me. As I was sitting there, I had what can only be called a hallucination.
"It was this: I was lying naked on a marble floor, bound hand and foot. David came in and pulled a piano stool next to my body as if I was a piano. I kept calling to him that I was a person and not a musical instrument but loud applause from an unseen audience drowned out my voice. Then he began to play on me. His hands glided up and down my naked flesh. I could feel the tips of his fingers, like tiny erotic knives, digging into me.
"A finger touched my nipple and I shivered. Another finger grazed , my thighs and momentarily lost itself in that triangle of hair nestled between them.
"Then the piece was over and I broke out of that insane vision to see David standing by the piano, bowing and smiling at me. Did he know, I thought to myself. Had he any idea of my thoughts?"
At home after his brief and informal concert, Kathy could think of nothing but the boy. She had to meet him. She had to talk to him. Her husband was leaving for another courier trip and she knew that would be her chance.
The day after her husband left she began to inquire where David lived. Once having obtained the address, she began to watch the house to see where and when he would be home alone. Kathy was so intrigued by the child that she did not even realize she was acting like a thief, watching his house from behind parked automobiles.
David was home alone every day from three to five. She could hear him practicing the piano even out on the street. One afternoon, at about four, she walked to the front door of his house and rang the bell. Kathy described her feelings at that moment:
"I didn't really know why I was there. Surely, the idea of sex was not uppermost in my mind. Neither was the idea of listening to him play. All that I knew was that I had to see him and to speak to him."
I asked her whether she believed a misplaced maternal instinct had any role in her visit.
"Maybe, of course, I never really had any desire for children. But I can't be sure that a repressed maternal instinct did not enter into it. I really don't know."
David answered the door. Kathy just stood there, not saying a word, hoping the boy would recognize her from the club concert. He looked at her for a long while. He knew he had seen her before but could not place the exact day. Drawing closer to the boy, Kathy told him that she had been present at the concert and she wanted to talk to him a few minutes about music. David opened the door wide and ushered her in. They went into the living room and sat down facing each other.
Events then began to happen at a dizzying pace. Kathy describes what happened:
"We faced each other. Not a word was said. His face, that beautiful child-like face reflected both fear and anticipation. He knew in his soul that something was about to happen. I walked over to him and took his hand. I bent down beside him and looked closely at those marvelous fingers. The boy began to quiver, not very much, but enough to send darts of passion coursing through my body. For the first time I spoke to him in a voice of love. I told him that I was not there to cause pain but to bring pleasure. Those words came out of my mouth without even thinking. I seemed to be possessed by another intelligence which had somehow invaded my psyche and was taking over.
My lips pressed against his fingers. I kissed each of them, then took them one by one into my mouth and sucked them with fevered gulps.
He closed his eyes. I moved closer and kissed his shut eyelids, trying to transfer my growing passion into his young, innocent body. I could hear him playing in my subconscious even though I knew, intellectually, that he was beside me and not at the piano.
I opened my dress and pushed his fingers inside. Those delicate but powerful instruments were like a caged bird underneath the fabric until they found my tits. His fingers touched the naked flesh and I cried out in indescribable joy. His fingers pushed against the nipples, putting all of his pent-up adolescent lust into them. The fingers became hot and wet as they struggled against my white breasts, trying to extract every ounce of music from the erect nipples.
Now his body was shaking uncontrollably. I pushed my hands between his legs and opened his pants with such a fury that a button ripped off and bounced once or twice on the rug before lying there, a mute testament to my passion.
Then his young cock was before me. I cried out that it was beautiful, and that the child's talents were a gift from God. David's eyes were still closed, but his angellic face had been dappled by a slight flush.
Slowly, quivering, his maleness asserted itself, moving toward me, almost singing its song of awakening lust. I parted my lips, eagerly, waiting, always waiting for it as it inched its way toward me. Then my tongue flicked out like a snake. A low, moaning sound came from the depths of his soul. Quickly I pounced on it. Quickly I opened my mouth to receive the secret of his talent. It was within me. I almost fainted from joy. My lips played a sonata on the struggling, muscular weapon and it darted to and fro, about my ivory teeth.
A moment later, it grew to a size that almost suffocated me. And, then, like a rush of notes from the most stirring symphony, the child's first seed poured into me, drenching my lips and staining my teeth with that wondrous heated liquid. David lay quivering on the chair, his eyes filled with tears.
The moment was too sublime. No words could be said. I gathered my purse and left, silently and quickly. He was still sleeping when I closed the door behind me."
For the next two days Kathy could think of nothing else but the child's surging passion, brought to a delicate fruition by her lips. She was also afraid that the boy had become frightened by her aggressiveness and would no longer want to see her.
During those two days, between her first and second encounter with David, all thoughts of her husband went out of her mind. Her sexual delight in David also translated itself into a more profound appreciation of music, and she spent many hours in the record section of the base library, listening to music that she had not heard in years and was now reacquainting herself with. But the drive to see the child again was overpowering. He had become the one ingredient in her life which seemed to offer her a remarkable intellectual and cultural renaissance.
Her next visit to David is described below in her own words:
"He opened the door and let me in without a word. He was in the midst of practicing so I waited, listening to the divine sounds his fingers elicited from the keys. His eyes shone as he bent over the piano, utterly transported into a world that only genius could know. I thanked God for having the opportunity to listen to his playing once again.
Then he finished and shyly taking my hand, led me into the bedroom. We lay on the bed together and the child began to undress me. I could hear his heavy breathing as he peeled garment after garment off my willing body, until I lay there for his total enjoyment.
When he finished, I undressed him, covering his young, virgin body with a series of kisses. Then, we were side by side, our flesh screaming for each other. He shyly reached his hand between my legs and stroked my flower with those wondrous fingers. I encouraged him and soon he grew more daring. His thin, delicate lips grazed the insides of my thighs. Closer and closer they moved to the flower, until, in one beautiful movement, they were pressed against the lips of my opening. His mouth and my source of womanhood were joined in what seemed an eternal embrace. I called to him softly to kiss me there and his tongue entered, ever so gently, with enough force however to cause little spears of lust shooting up and down the length of my body.
And then, before my very eyes, the child turned into a man. The delicate prodigy shed his past and grew into a vigorous, questing male with only one purpose; to enter me and crush me. Roughly, his hands pushed my thighs apart until my opening was lying exposed for him to take. He climbed on me and in one incredible moment, impaled me with his now erect cock, driving me deep into the soft bed, making my body sing with the force and beauty of the penetration. Deeper and deeper his maleness went-into the depths of my cunt, bringing out of my flesh the most exquisite moans of total subjection. He was a raving beast then, his teeth searching out the most vulnerable part of my neck and drawing blood at the same time his organ performed its task.
"Then, I heard a gasp, and a second later my whole body shook with the force of the seed which poured into me and left me a gasping woman on the bed, my eyes wide with the glory of his flesh."
A most remarkable protrait of a most remarkable relationship. After this second encounter, they met every day. Their erotic urges often lapsed into perversion but the beauty and the innocence of their love cannot be disputed.
But, the inevitable occurred. Her husband returned from the mission and upon discovering that his wife was acting quite strangely, followed her one afternoon. He burst into the house while the woman and the boy were locked in an embrace. The Ensign, then and there, beat his wife unmercilessly, and left her, a bruised and bleeding body, on the bedroom floor. The child was not harmed.
Her husband got drunk that night and in his anguish, punched an officer at the base. Because of his excellent record and because of the fact that he was drunk, they did not court-martial him. But they demoted him. This sudden fall, this sudden crisis in her husband's life, seemed to act as a cooling balm on his wife. Kathy dropped the boy. She was horrified that she had been the cause of her husband's difficulty because she knew that his whole life was the Navy. Begging forgiveness, she asked to return to her husband. He consented.
In the months that followed, their relationship was often precarious. But Kathy made a special effort to mend the breach between them and to try and make up for her infidelity. Gradually, the old ties of love and affection were re-established.
As for the child, he was too terrified by the beatings he had witnessed to ever try to establish contact again. The secret longings that still remained in Kathy's psyche will probably never be rooted out. But she has chosen to repress them for the sake of her husband's career. For that, we can only admire her.
CHAPTER NINE
TWO DIFFERENT WORLDS
Rima Burton is a typical representative of those debauched adult women who find a depraved outlet in seduction of the innocents. Like her other dominant "sisters" of perversia, Rima has uncontrollable urges for the practice of unusual sexual activities. At the age of 34, she looks back upon her life with confused frustrations. She was raised in an environment of dominating parents. Her mother regarded sex as a woman's "punishment." Her father had an aggressive attitude toward sex and would use forceful actions in order to consummate his urges.
There were many nights when Rima would toss and turn in the adjoining bedroom as she listened to her mother's whimpers and cries of pain when her father would unleash his brute sexual force upon her.
It was this environment that twisted Rima's outlook on sex and love. At the same time, she had an intense dislike for the male sex and wanted to see them punished. In each fantasy-dream of flagellomania, she would see a virile youth being flogged and it would resemble the father-image she created. With this attitude, she became a frustrated spinster. When she reached her middle 30's, she had earned enough to open up her own dry cleaning establishment. She hired young lads to do deliveries and pickups and to make themselves generally useful. Just how she first came to debauch these boys is unclear but it is believed that she once went into the cellar of her store and caught two of her boys, Tony and Curry, with their pants down, while they were fondling one another.
Tony's pants were down to his knees, and he was thrusting forth his pelvis. "Here, Curry, just rub it a little. It'll make it feel good. Nothing to be ashamed of. Come on. I'll do it to you."
Curry was the younger of the two; at 13, he was still timid enough. His pants were down to his ankles, yet he was shy to the point where he held onto his tight briefs. "Naw, it ain't nice."
When Rima peered through a slat in the door and saw this scene, she experienced a quickening of her pulse.
Pangs of frustration rose to the core. She saw the two hot blooded youths, saw the way Tony's enormous male organ was poised for penetration. She saw young Curry, hardly over 13, with spindly smooth legs, smallish buttocks, with yet-to-be-developed genitalia. It made her fight back the hot flood of tears. She should have had such sensual love. But it was too late now. She felt rooted to the spot as she watched.
"Okay, but let's do it quick. I ain't never let nobody touch it before." He pulled down his briefs. Curry's slim body was like a reed. His buttocks could have been two handballs. The backs of his naked boy thighs were absolutely smooth and pink. When he moved, it brought out a little ripple of development-to-come.
"Rub it a little." Tony's huge maleness was a direct contrast to that of the other boy and this intensified the pounding heat of the situation. "Hurry up or that ol' bag'll catch us."
Rima flinched. They were talking about her! Of all the nerve! She wanted to barge right in but she had to see this through to the finish. She ducked back into the shadows and peered through the slat.
Curry's hand trembled as he made a fist and captured Tony's elongated steel-rigid maleness and started to slide. "Ooooo," Curry giggled in his cracking pre-pubertal voice, "You're getting so swollen up. Here, play with mine."
Tony sneered as he seized the boy's slim flesh and started to manipulate. "It ain't hardly growed yet. Ain'tcha got more hair there?" He laughed as he played with the boy's small pouch. "This ain't much."
They gasped and sputtered as they fondled and played with one another. Tony, having had self-manipulation experiences before, was aware of what would happen when he felt the spasms and twitches. "Oooooo, it's gonna cum out now ... keep on ... rub the head ... oooooo, OOOOOOO...." His slim body erupted into a series of wrenching twists and then the spewing gave forth the proof of his power.
At the same moment, young Curry's face grew tomato red and all the veins of his lean boyish body began to bulge. "Rub it more, more, more...." he gasped as he felt the most unusual sensation course through his loins. Suddenly, he sputtered, "I'm gonna ... ooooo, there's something cumming out...." In a few seconds, he discovered the miracle process of consummation by manual friction.
He was exhausted as he pulled apart. "Tony, what was that?" He laughed shyly as he adjusted his clothes. "I never knew it could happen."
Tony pulled his pants back on. "Aw, that is what happens when you go off. Guess at 13 you ain't never had much. I do it myself all the time. I oughta get a girl. I'd like to put it into her. How'd it feel?"
"Kind of funny," Curry looked tired. The experience had both embarrassed, yet relieved his boy tensions. "My ol' man once told me not to fool with it. Said I'd get sick or somethin' so I don't touch it. But I sure get funny feelings down there."
"Aw," Tony was the mature boy, about 16, but he felt the protector of this one, "don't listen to the ol' man. Mine's the same way. Caught me doing it once, when I was in the shower. Man, he let me have it. Used a leather belt on me. Said he'd kill me if he ever caught me doing it again. Said I wasn't to touch it. But honest, Curry, what'll I do? At night, it gets so hard, I can't sleep. I gotta do it." He sounded desperate.
At that point Rima barged in on them, her face a cruel mask. "I saw what you two boys were doing! Want me to report the two of you!"
They both were rooted to the spot. Tony and Curry blanched; all the blood drained out of the faces and they looked terrified. Curry at 13, hopped behind the "older" protector, Tony. His eyes were enormous with fear.
"We weren't doin' nothin'," protested the chortling Tony. "Nothin', honest." He looked as if he would burst out into tears.
"I saw it all. You two were playing with each other." She pointed to the evidence of their orgasms. "Want me to have you placed in detention homes? I should tell your parents what you did. It was in my store, too!"
Curry started to whimper. "P-lease, ma'am, don't tell anyone. We didn't mean it." Tears went down his smooth face. His moppet hair gave him a babyish look that could be sensual as well as fetching. "Don't tell. I didn't mean it. It was Tony, he made me do it...."
"Shut up!" With that Rima knew she had both of them where she wanted. This was her opportunity for vengeance. A few thoughts ran through her head. "I want both of you to come to my apartment tonight. I'll discuss it with you and then decide what I'm going to do. Tell your parents you're just going out for a walk. Hear me?"
They were so petrified, they would have consented to anything if only to be spared parental punishment.
That night, Rima Burton started her downward descent into flagellomania-punishment of her own warped libidinal frustrations. It was the traumatic shock of having seen pubertal boys in the throes of their carnal awakening that served as the spur for Rima Burton's debauched cravings.
"You two have been naughty," she berated them in her apartment. "Now, there's no need for both of you to look like that. I have thought this over very carefully and have decided that you have to be punished but I'll do the punishment." She reached into the bottom drawer of a large bureau and withdrew a hideous looking whip. It was something she had once picked up on a trip to Mexico. She had purchased it on a strange impulse. Now she knew it would be put to good use. ' The boys recoiled with fright.
Tony was swallowing down the choking well of tears that he was too brave to release. "Please, please, Miss Burton, don't whip us."
Curry looked as if he would break down in a wave of crybaby tears. "No, no, don't hit me. I'll do anything you want. Please." His smooth chin trembled and tears flooded his eyes.
Now Rima knew she was dominant and victorious. "Very well. Since the two of you know you are naughty boys, you will understand what I tell you to do. Strip down. Go on!" she raised her voice. Excitement mounted. Now she could punish these boys, as she yearned to punish her overbearing father; now she could give vent to her repressed urges. "Strip naked! Then you two will do exactly as I say."
They cringed in fright. "But we never did it, in front of a lady," protested the sobbing Curry. "Please, we didn't mean it."
She clutched the whip by its hard handle; it was made of sleek, genuine alligator and glistened as she test-hefted it in the air. It was about three feet in length. It had been fashion-crafted by a master whipmaker. Just a slight flick of the wrist and the flexible whip snapped in the air with the slicing action as if hurtled against naked buttocks.
Tony was aghast. He felt his heart pound furiously. "All right, we'll do it, only don't hit us."
Since the older boy was starting to remove his clothes, Curry followed with nervous movements.
They soon were naked, looking smooth and soft with erect privates that were instantly aroused; at that tender pubertal age, rigid virility was possible with just a thought, a motion; it was assured with nakedness.
Rima soon learned of this sensitivity of extreme youth and it whetted her lust for such callow sexual studs. Like most female pedophiles, she knew she could not dominate, taunt or otherwise compell adult males into her debauched acts. Only with puerile youth could she accomplish her wish-fulfillment craving for punishment of her father-image. This led to her search for other boys in pairs because her first command made it evident that she needed two boys for her debauched cravings.
"All right, Curry, you lie down on that bed. No, don't look like that. I'm not going to whip you." She felt her heart pounding as she saw the 13 year old boy's milky smooth body, the undeveloped physical apparatus in proud arousal, the way his crinkled pink pouch with its two oval spheres were swinging with his movement. She wanted to stroke and fondle him. That would come later. "That's it. No, you stupid boy. On your tummy. Bottoms up!"
When the boy snuggled on the bed, he whimpered slightly, feeling that there would come an awesome experience. "Please don't hurt me," he sobbed.
"Shut up!" snapped Rima. She turned to the white-faced Tony. "You, straddle him. That's it. Go on or I'll have both of you whipped until your bodies will be striped like a peppermint bar."
Tony, being the older one, was showing signs of precocious development. He had a massive young boy-man power, with a thick hirsute covered pouch and enormous ovals. His thighs and legs were smooth with only the suggested trace of down. The rears of his naked thighs were pinkish smooth. His buttocks were firm, without any sag. They dimpled inwardly as he moved. The dividing gorge was so erotically provocative, it made the red-faced Rima Burton almost swoon with a peculiar longing.
The two boys reflected the image of pristine purity. This appealed to Rima as it does to almost all such adult female pedophiliacs.
"Go on, Tony, use Curry like a woman! You heard me. Put it into him and that will punish him so he'll never do naughty things again."
The two reacted with a strange horror.
"B-but, I don't know...." Tony felt the damning warmth sweep up through his young loins with a heart-pounding intensity. "I don't know...." He was so frightened, he wanted to shrink down and hide. He was mounting the whimpering Curry who was blithefully unaware of what it was like to be sodomized! The backs of his white marshmallow-soft buttocks were glazed with the sheen of his boy sweat. Trickles of sweat poured down his armpits. So did Tony sweat, sucking in air. His throat felt parched.
Rima raised her whip. There was a strange whisper. Suddenly, the snake-like whip flew out and it landed with a loud and sharp THWACK upon Tony's smooth buttocks.
"Do as I say!" screamed Rima.
Tony yelped as a stinging hot flame seared the back of his naked thighs. Tears rolled down his cheeks. At the same time, a series of reverberating spasms tore through his loins. The lash left a deep red welt on his otherwise flawless marble-smooth boy buttocks.
"I'll do it, I'll do it," he gasped desperately. "Don't whip me." He gazed with wide-eyed terror at the snake-like whip.
"Just push. Use your hand to find out where to put it in." Rima gloried in her she-master's role. In whipping and punishing these boys, she was flagellating her hated father-image, and giving vent to her repressed frustrations as a spinsterish old maid. "Go on!"
With wet, grubby hands, Tony fondled the quivering Curry's buttocks. Male instinct served as a guide. He found Curry's small aperture and with a few exploratory thrusts, gained entrance into the warm environment.
Curry screamed as he felt the pounding penetration. "It hurts! I don't like it! Don't do it. Take it out!" He beat the bed and bit down hard on the cushion but there was no shaking off the heaving boy atop.
"I gotta, I gotta do it," sputtered Tony as he now surged forth. "Hey, this feels good. Lemme do it," he stammered with nervous anxiety. "I never felt this before. Like a girl."
His body jack-knifed and twisted as he now began the familiar thrusts, using his powerful boy lance as he would a piston. The room was filled with strange grunts and peculiar sounds as their wet bodies slapped against one another.
Curry was trying to press down into the bed as he tried to shake off the pounding boy. "I can't take it ... stop, Tony, please...."
But Tony could not hold back. The fires of youth had erupted into a bizarre flame. He surged forth and then he made a lusty cry as he felt the eruption. "Ohhhhh, oh, oh, oh, oh," he gasped as the shooting spurts of lascivious fulfillment were emitted into the warm receptacle. Again and again the spasms tore through his loins. At long last, he was satiated. He was drained. When he extricated himself, he had to stagger to a chair and then collapse. His maleness was still rigid.
"Ohhhh, that sure felt great," he looked happy and relieved. "Sorry, Curry, I didn't mean it."
The other boy was very quiet. He sniffled but said nothing.
"Let that be a lesson to both of you," snapped Rima. "You have been punished for your own good. You did dirty things in the cellar. You have to be punished." But even as she said this, Rima knew she was only using her power as a means of easing her own confused attitudes about normal love.
Because jobs were scarce in this small town the two boys could not leave Rima Burton's dry cleaning establishment. This meant they were completely under her power. She hired other boys as her business increased but she preferred the very young ones because they were so innocent and frightened of the awesome magnitude of sex, they would succumb to any debauchery for the simple reason that they just did not know any better.
Furthermore, like most female sodomitic pedophiles, this older woman knew that the trigger-reflex anxieties of hot blooded youth precluded hesitation. They were so stored up with cravings, they were vulnerable for any types of expression. This is one reason why so many become involved in homosexuality. The temptation for release overpowers any sense of caution or reason or morality.
In another bizarre orgy the 34-year old dominant woman found an excuse for bringing three boys down into her establishment's cellar. She rebuked them for having called girls while in the store. "Since you have no respect for women," (here it is obvious she is reacting to her own frustrations,) "then you will have to be taught the proper discipline. Drop your pants! All three of you!"
"B-but, what'd we do?" stammered one pink cheeked boy who was hardly even 14. He was still in the growing stage and resembled a slim page boy from bygone days. "We didn't do nothin'."
"Shut up," she growled. "I heard those terrible words you said to girls across the street. And right from my shop, too. Drop your pants I said."
The boys were red-faced as they looked from one to the other. They were embarrassed at having to lower their pants before one another, let alone before this older woman. They were all boy virgins and despite their obvious braggadacio, they were frightened of girls at their tender 13 and 14 years of age.
She wielded a doubled over leather belt. "I'll tell your parents." This threat worked wonders.
There was a rustle as the three red-faced boys fumbled with their pants. They dropped their pants and upon another whip-sharp command, dropped down their shorts. Naked, they were all ramrod stiff.
Their naked boy parts were erect in gleaming heat. One boy had difficulty in retracting so Rima seized upon this opportunity to fondle him. He reacted as if a spark of electricity had-touched his sensitive boy parts.
"You've got a long skin here," she jeered, deliberately taunting the boy. She seized his erect phallus and gave a vicious yank that made him yelp. "If I were your father, I'd see to it that it was cut off." She knew it was making him all the more humiliated.
Rima went around, beheld the dizzying spectacle of the bared bottoms of the three boys. She fought against a strange impulse to fondle and explore their smooth-as-silk buttock cheeks. The red chasm looked equally as forbidden. She would have thrilled to compel them to sodomize one another but right now, she had another fiendish goal.
"Bend over. That's it." She saw their smooth buttocks grow taut. "Now ... you count as I whip. If you miss a number, we'll do it over again."
She used the doubled over leather belt as she would a vicious whip. Each THWACK echoed in the cellar with the ominous sound of dungeon punishment.
Each whack brought forth a tightening of the boys' gluteal muscles. They whimpered, sobbed, staggered and almost fell, but they took their spanking punishment until their bottoms were red hot.
When she finished, Rima felt as if she had had her own climax. "Now, two of you stand over there." She pointed to the designated two boys. "You," she pointed to the 13 year old boy who sniffled as he held his spanked bottom. "Kneel before them. Take their 'things' in your mouth."
The standing boys snickered. Gone were the fears. They had heard, vaguely, of such things. They were so stiff with anxiety, they needed something. Even if a buddy was forced into it, they wanted it!
"I can't," the 13 year young boy protested. "It's ... it's dirty...."
"What you did was dirty, calling dirty names to girls!" Infuriated, Rima seized his thick hair, dragged him nakedly over to the other boys and forced him down on his knees. "Go on or I'll whip you until you won't sit for a month."
"B-but...."
Rima seized his head and pushed him into the oral act. She forced him through each compulsive fellatio until he had serviced both boys. Then he became sick and heaved up on the floor.
Rima felt victory consummated with a release of her own frustrated tensions. "Wash everything up, get dressed and be gone." She wanted to savor every bit of the memory of it by herself.
It was when the enforced performing boy became moody, depressed and showed signs of neurotic withdrawal, that the truth came out.
Rima Burton was charged with impairing the morals of minors and committed to a sanitarium for treatments.
CHAPTER TEN
WHO REALLY KNOWS THE MASOCHIST?
Recently experiments have been conducted at a well-known university in Chicago in an attempt to further understand the masochist. This has become very necessary since violence is definitely on the upswing. Unless we comprehend the reasons behind a man or woman's desire to seek pain in their lives, then we will all be returning to the Dark Ages once more.
It was fortunate that a Doctor Carlton E. Stanton was able to supply us with several "life histories" from which we could observe at a comfortable distance.
One of the most bizarre was that of E.R. Let us call him Eddie Rand for the sake of anonymity. He is about twenty-eight and works as a machinists for a tool manufacturing company in Ohio. His parents divorced when he was quite young and he spent most of his life with his mother and a canny aunt.
The aunt had a passion to whip him whenever he did something wrong. She seemed to be waiting for that moment and Eddie became use to this treatment. There was a time he even did something which would cause the beating. The idea of taking pain from an elderly woman grew to be a part of his life.
When he entered the service, however, a lot of his background was put into the dark corners of his mind. Perhaps it was the new challenge and the idea that suddenly now he was surrounded by men his own age. There was no chance to receive the same treatment. Of course this didn't last since he was able to receive leaves and go into town.
It was while he was on leave with a couple of friends that a new event entered his life. Never had he visited a whorehouse and yet he did have a strong desire for female companionship. More than anything he wanted to sink his hard cock deep into a strange young cunt. The idea became obsessional and he agreed to accompany three of his friends to one of the houses on the outskirts of town.
The house was owned by an Oriental woman who spoke several languages and understood all the sex peculiarites men desire. Her voice was soft and yet she could change her mood in an instant. It all depended upon what the customer wanted that day.
Eddie didn't think of himself as being different from anyone else. He had a healthy hard-on and it needed servicing. A nice warm tight cunt would do the job very well-at least he thought it would!
When Eddie went into the private room with Marie he was trembling with excitement. Her smooth rounded hips undulated with sexual promise. The prize package between her thighs would be his soon enough but first he wanted to go over that wild body of hers and make sure that his wet, hot tongue didn't miss one little crevice.
She stretched out for him on the silk sheets. Not for a moment did she remain still. He had to force her to stay in one position. There was a reason for this. The girls had all been instructed to be as versatile as possible. If their beautiful bodies were in motion all the time, then the customer could take his pick.
All of this movement started to give Eddie a violent headache. He liked what he saw and, in fact, his lips were soon sucking on one of her flashing nipples. She squealed when his teeth tightened around the hardening skin. Her muffled shout sent a tingle through his swinging balls. Still he wasn't getting the hardness in his cock that he wanted. He truly wanted to ream her deep and that would take all the grishness he could command!
Finally he rolled away with a limp cock. Now it was her turn to get angry. She slashed out at him calling him every name she could think of. Again this was another device of the whores who knew the advantage of explosive anger during the sex act.
At first Eddie didn't know how to react. Then suddenly remembrances of his horny aunt came back to him. Once more he was being beaten by a woman, only this time she was a hunk of beauty which would drive any normal guy up the walls.
It didn't take him long to get his blood racing. His breath almost doubled back on him and he started to choke. She gave him a swift slap across the face. That was all he needed. His rod went straight up. Never had it been this hard in his entire life. All kinds of strange energy was surging through his cock. He was going to fuck that bitch like she had never been banged before.
All of a sudden she had a wild man on top of her. The young whore was no' longer in control. Eddie thrust her thighs apart with a strength he had never demonstrated before. The head of his cock was swollen up to the size of a blooming apple. It throbbed for some action and wanted to stab deep into her velvet shaft.
She tried to pull herself away. In his present condition he could very well tear her apart. Her livelihood depended upon the continued operation of her soft silky hole. No one was going to rip it into shreds if she could help it.
Eddie wasn't going to have any fooling around. That little whore was going to play it his way. She was going to take all nine inches without a chance of greasing herself up. Her vaginal fluids hadn't had a chance to spurt forward and she was about to receive the roughest ride ever presented to a young whore before.
He forced the head of his rod between her squirming cunt lips. At this point she attempted to raise her knees and give him an impossible obstacle to overcome. He was going to have none of this but this would mean a physical attack on her beautiful open body. If he became too aggressive then the hardness in his cock might give way.
Being an accomplished whore, she could instantly see what was happening. Without a word of warning she clenched her fist and sent it against his full lips. Blood spurted from his mouth and the heat of the warm liquid down his throat sent a new volcanic surge through him. Yes, he was definitely ready now to fuck this whore with every strained fibre of his young lean body.
When he drove home she had her thighs wide open. The head of his throbbing cock spread her lining apart as though it were a heated poker. In a way that is exactly what it was! No longer did he edge his way down her wet, gleaming trench; the push was up to her bubbling belly button.
She screamed as his mammoth jackhammer pounded into her delicate hole. There was no giving way this time he was going to have her in a hot fuck manner she would never forget. Her cunt would never be the same after he slashed her open in this new vigorous style.
His balls bounced against that spread little ravine between her buttocks. The feel of his fruit sack touching her heated skin exploded even more lust inside of him. Eagerly he bent forward and swallowed her trembling nipples. From left to right he went as though he were on a speeding train and needed as much sustenation as possible along the way.
Her rubbery slit grew frothy from the pumping he was doing. No longer was she making any attempt to escape from his attacking cock. She was loving every moment of his throbbing lance buried deep inside her stomach. Her resiliently elastic flesh gave him the ride he needed. When his spunk began to boil, she reached down and caressed his swaying balls. Lightly her fingers found their way to that swelling stem. The moment she was poised upon them he began to burp his load into her now saturated vagina.
His sperm was hot with exploding lust. Her sensitive lining took the searing pain for as long as it could, then her torso attempted to rise up and somehow exorcise the continually burping sap.
When he finally rolled off her he was weak from the drain. There was not an ounce of spunk left inside of him. His balls felt as though they had squeezed themselves inside out. The tiny levators ached from the last minute push which had been placed upon them.
Eddie didn't talk to his companions all the way back to camp. Something was bothering him and he couldn't quite understand what it was. He had certainly experienced a wild time with the whore. His poor cock would be sore from the forceful drive it had made. What more could he possibly want?
It was at this point that Doctor Stanton entered the case. At the time he was connected with the military psychiatric unit in Dallas, Texas. When Eddie had a nervous breakdown he was immediately brought to his attention.
Several months went by before certain tendencies were evident. Finally he could be typed as a latent masochist and treatment could begin. Doctor Stanton's technique depended upon "actual experience" for a total cure. In other words, the patient has to go out once more and face the exact same situation. Of course this is not possible since no two events are ever alike. Still, the moment can have a flavor of a past encounter and this is what the doctor needed.
At first it was difficult to explain to Eddie what he must do. It wasn't possible to give him directions in this case. Only subtle hints could be made to the patient.
Through special arrangements with" the military authorities Eddie was transported to a small town about twenty miles from the camp. The area was known for its notorious whorehouses. Whatever you want would be somewhere within its tiny perimeter. There was even some so-called "animal practices" which had been documented by the authorities. In a way, this place was allowed to remain in operation strictly as a training and testing ground for the psychiatric society.
Naturally Eddie knew nothing about this and was a little bewildered that he had been allowed to leave the hospital. Actually he wanted to stay under observation since he still couldn't understand what was bothering him.
Special privileges were offered him for his trip. Use of a car and lodgings. A civilian suit so he wouldn't be identified with the military. He could stay for one week and no one would bother him at all. What he wasn't aware of at the moment was the fact that a two-way radio had been set in an ornamental button of his suit.
Everything that happened to him during that period would be fully recorded!
These tapes were later filed in his case folder. Here are some excerpts which graphically tell what happened to this young man during this appointed period of his life:
Eddie was too nervous to think about having sex at first. He wanted to know where he stood with the authorities and they had told him nothing. How could he be alone like this for no reason? It didn't make sense.
To try and calm himself, Eddie headed for the Kit-Kat bar. He didn't know at that time that it was headquarters for all the local pimps. All he wanted was a couple of stiff drinks and to be alone for a few minutes.
It didn't take long for the operators to zero in on him. His handsome looks turned a lot of people on in a hurry. The first to reach his side was a bizarre type by the name of Chip Chop. He had every kind of drug you could think of hidden on his person. Just name it and you've got a deal. Eddie got rid of him in a hurry. He wasn't interested in hallucinating. Unless he kept his feet on the ground there was no telling what direction he would take!
The next one to beat a path to his stool was a tall statuesque blonde by the name of Reddy. Few people were aware that she was actually a male in drag, the disguise was that perfect. Eddie couldn't believe her body and of course didn't know about that dong which was tied up tight between "her" legs.
Reddy had a pair of manufactured boobs which were strictly out of this creation. She knew how to give them that little jiggle which caused her nipples to freeze up and become hard as a couple of plump cherries.
In the past Reddy had a history of being beaten up by disenchanted males. She knew she had to be careful or one of these days someone might to too far and that would be the end of Reddy!
Right away she knew something was wrong with the good looking number on the stool. His eyes never seemed to blink-a warning that the mind was in a state of near collapse. Even though she could read these warnings she continued on with her pitch.
It wasn't long before Eddie was on his way with her. He had no idea that a cock would be waiting for him instead of a wild cunt.
Reddy was hoping she could get him drunk before she took off all her clothes. By that time he wouldn't care what was going on and there wouldn't be any trouble. Eddie wasn't in the mood to get that stoned so she had to think up something else.
As they went up the stairs to her apartment Eddie suddenly had the urge to grope her. It was an old pasttime of his and he did it without warning to any chick he might meet while on the road.
When his hand fondled the tight bulge between her legs he thought at first that she was wearing a rag. This didn't make him very happy and Reddy could see the crestfallen expression spread across his face. She didn't want him to get anymore disappointed so she went down on him right then and there!
As she dropped to her knees he instinctively pulled open his fly. A good blow job might be something which would take away those headaches. After all he had tried everything else, now perhaps he should go in this direction.
To say that Reddy was an excellent cocksucker was the understatement of the year. She knew exactly how to swallow a hard, throbbing rod and curve her tongue around the full length for complete satisfaction. As she continued with her marvelous technique, Eddie began thinking about other things. This wasn't exactly easy since all of his emotional attention was being directed towards the suck job.
Did he really want to blow his load down this number's throat? Hadn't he come all this distance to plunder a pink, pounting pussy? Wasn't that the idea of his journey?
Quickly he pulled his cock from between her lips. Reddy was taken so much by surprise that she stood up and exposed her true sex. Once Eddie had a look at his doubledup cock, anger overtook him. He slashed out at this drag queen with every bit of strength he had left inside of him. Witnessing this attack was Reddy's friend and close companion, Bobbie Silver. She was a genuine woman who enjoyed the company of drag queens. Quickly she was by Reddy's side and her arms flung out in his defense.
Eddie was beaten up against the wall by this beauty and, of course, his cock got as hard as a rock. All he needed was that violence to get him going. Suddenly Reddy was pushed away and Bobbie was pinned up against the wall. She snapped her legs tightly together. She had no intention of getting fucked right there on the stairway. Eddie, however, had other ideas.
Reddy was in no condition to help her friend. She had rolled all the way down the stairway and was currently nursing her bruises. Bobbie was all alone and would have to defend herself. Not that she wasn't capable of doing just that, but she had stayed out late the night before and was in a general state of exhaustion.
It was amazing how systematic Eddie could become during these heightened periods of excitement. He ripped her clothes off as if he had been practicing at it for years!
When he was down to her panties and bra he decided to try something different. Holding her hands behind her back he bit down hard on the silk cups. She could feel the pressure building around the base of her nipple and knew it wouldn't be long before he would be nibbling on her precious coral capped breasts.
This was a very sensitive area to Bobbie and she was determined to put up a big fight to keep him at bay. For awhile it was almost a draw. Neither side was going to give an inch. Then Eddie dropped back leaving himself wide open. Quickly Bobbie took advantage of this new development. Her fists double slammed against his jaw. Eddie was taken off balance and slipped down to his knees. She lifted up her foot and caught him on one side of his cheek. It was a most effective blow and almost knocked him unconscious. But there was something inside of Eddie that was determined to keep him aware at all times. Now that he was experiencing a rugged kind of pain he was actually more in control of himself.
It was unfortunate that no electroencephalogram wasn't attached to Eddie's body at that time. Of course, this would have been impossible, since he would have then been aware of the purpose of his trip. But the hidden microphone did pick up his breathing and this could be recorded on a separate tape. All of this information could be put together later for a final report.
Bobbie's beating continued for almost ten minutes straight. She swung out at every sensitive part of his body. Her sharp nails dug at his eyes and ears. Scratches were sometimes over five inches long. A cyclone excitement started to make Eddie extremely dizzy. It wasn't the kind that would eventually knock him out. He was on his way to a super high!
Just as Bobbie was tiring out Eddie surged forward. His cock had shot out through his pants as though it were an atomic bullet on its way to an outer space target. Bobbie stared down at this maniacal pahllus. It was headed in only one direction-her wet, velvet sheath.
She was too stunned to move for the moment and this was her big mistake. Only by running fast did she have any chance at all. Just standing there with her mouth wide open sealed her doom.
Eddie tackled her around the waist, bringing her down flat on the landing. Her contoured creamy bottom cushioned her fall. Before she could adjust herself he made sure that he jammed his fist deep into the ravine between her buttocks. She had to know that she was going to get it coming and going! There was no time tor him to rip her clothes away. He had to jam it home as quickly as possible. First he had an uncontrollable desire to taste her intimate sex-slime. Such a thing had never crossed his mind before. Was he going out of his mind? There was no time to analyze anything. All he could do was act out the swirling emotions deep within him. And that meant burying his eager tongue into her burning slash!
Bobbie couldn't stand a man's tongue in her pursed hole. It just drove her right out of her mind. Once before someone had actually tied her down and lapped at her for almost an hour. Ever since, then she would become crazy just thinking about an act such as that.
Eddie had the same determination only in the opposite direction. Her cunt juice seemed like nectar to him at that moment. All he needed was a gentle sip, nothing more. That would be enough to satisfy him. Still it would mean searching about inside that pussy furnace. Maybe he would get burned, that would be the chance he would have to take!
Because of the closed area Eddie was able to drop down to his knees quickly. Bobbie was trapped up against the wall. Her breathing was limited and she wanted to shout at the top of her lungs. None of that could be accomplished, however. She couldn't for a minute admit that she was his prisoner. In desperation she spit down at him. This was a bad mistake. He ripped her thighs apart and immediately tore her panties into shreds. The damn bitch was going to take his tongue no matter what she did!
Her soft golden matte of pubic hair wafted by his nostrils. The nectarine scent of her love canal electrified his senses. Maybe he would take more than a sip. Maybe he might even eat her out! Oh no, was it possible that after all these years Eddie was going to turn into a professional muff diver?
It should be noted at this point that there was a great deal of static in the radio as he eagerly funneled his tongue into the wet mound between her legs. The only sound which was recorded from that time on was the shriek of ecstasy Bobbie uttered as her body began to vibrate with an unexpected orgasm.
Eddie returned to camp an entirely different man. A complex set of inhibitions had snapped inside of him. No longer was he dependent upon pain as a source for his sexual excitements. He realized that sexual life was extremely varied. No one really experienced the same kind of desires. That he should want to "taste" Bobbie's box didn't make too much sense at the time. Before he had always wanted his cock firmly buried in a tight pussy. Why this big change? Of course, he did fuck her royally later, that was part of his package deal. Still it took that little adventure on the side to really give it all a value.
Getting to know the masochist will take more than one or two experiments along this line. Each will be different and more complicated that the first. If it were possible to put them all together and discover a common denominator then this would solve a lot of difficult problems. Unfortunately human nature cannot be studied in such a manner. There are always variables which will never be classified.
Doctor Stanton plans to have another excursion into the realm of sexual fantasy. It is dangerous to cross over this border since there is never any warning when an eruption might take place. His own life has been in danger several times but as a sexual scientist he must continue on regardless.
It has become necessary for him to live an anonymous life. Several times patients have attempted to follow him home. They feel that if a man is that interested in their private sex life then he is also desirous of participating.
One time he was detained by two lesbians. They wore black leather and carried two whips. Since their appearance was so bizarre he didn't know what to think at first. When they forced him to strip and submit to their lashings he quickly made up his mind that he had to move quickly.
The psychiatrist usually has an advantage over the deviate. The attacker always has one thing on his mind-sexual release. He can think of nothing else. The doctor is able to move outside and around this limited area. By using a technique he calls "Tantalus" after the mythological son of Zeus, he eventually bewilders his captives. In the end they all become friends and even allow themselves to be used as subjects in the future.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DISCIPLINARIAN PRACTICES
It is through continual observation in life that you eventually come to a point where you can formulate your own personal philosophy. Here is the factual case of a young girl who learned the importance of parental obedience early in life. It later affected her sexual responses and caused some very drastic changes in her future relationships.
Her parents were German and Russian and they believed in a home with definite prescribed rules. Lillian has allowed her story to be printed for the first time, she has no regrets about her past life and yet she sincerely wishes that she had understood her motivations more clearly.
Here are the recorded words of Lillian K.: "My sister and I were both brought up under rather difficult conditions. She, being older by five years, seemed to be more embarrassed by the countless castigations. I, however, found them indispensable to the balance of my every day life. And because I became an inadvertent observer of some of these acts, I also became an interpreter at an early age.
Now in my late thirties I have become one of the youngest wardens-I truly hate that title. It sounds so archaic-of a Woman's Correctional Institute in the mid-west. Perhaps my promotion was attained by dedication to following the rules and also demanding absolute conformity to certain rigid moral standards which were instilled upon me as a child. Now at this point of my life I feel I must make certain important decisions especially those concerning my future as an institutional director. Because of the limited amount of personnel, I must make several visits to the Women's compound and in this way I have become somewhat involved in some of their lives. Not that I have ever used my official standing to force my intentions. Nothing could be further from my mind. My life is centered around the continued fruition of institutional society. Still, I must admit that the looseness of their lives does somewhat irritate me. There is that ultimate need of discipline which almost screams into your ear as you walk by their indolent bodies. One in particular has especially bothered me. I don't make a practice of remembering names or even connecting them with a face. This can be wearisome, since they immediately take this as a personal interest and usually they attempt to make the best of it. In Darleen Camfield's case, however, I did make an exception.
Last April she was brought to my office by one of the matrons. She was continually involving other inmates with various devices of gambling. Although no actual money changed hands, it was a habit I wished to end as soon as possible. I asked the matron to leave the office while I spoke to Darleen in my own terms. She was instantly defiant and in a way I welcomed this rebellion. She wore the usual prison shift, but in spite of its formlessness her thighs were neatly outlined and as she turned her body I could see the outline of her nipples very briefly.
Just as I was about to conclude my talk to her I suddenly realized that this was a moment when a great change would come into my life. In her own small way Darleen Camfield would be the harbinger of a great change here at this correctional institution. She would be the first to really understand the meaning of ultimate discipline.
Since my office is on the top floor of the building, I have complete privacy. No one may enter without a previous signal from below. Also the walls are soundproof from the continual movement outside. It is an ideal situation.
I instructed Darleen to stand up and place the chair before her. At first she didn't understand what I meant. I pulled her around roughly and faced her towards the rear.
"Now you're in the right position" I exclaimed. "Bend over and hold on to the back of the chair."
She refused to do this and I expected that. My sister had been the same way-not with myself, of course, but with my mother. I remember seeing her spanked for the first time. It was all too bewildering to her. Then after she accepted the routine her movements became smoother-at times almost dance-like. All it takes is that first hump to get over, then there is forever a subliminal understanding.
For purposes of demonstration only I physically positioned her against the chair. I was not rough but firm, not allowing her any leeway. Her body was stiff and her thighs were close together as if in perpetual defiance. I explained to her the meaning of this position. She had defied the rules of the convention. Gambling was not allowed and there must be some restitution. I walked to a hanging map of the prison area and swung back the wooden plaque. Behind it were three leather grained whips. Each had a different set of withes at the end. Two of them had belonged to my mother. The third was one I had picked up in the Marine Corp from a fellow corpsman who enjoyed the same extracurricular as myself. I picked the middle one for this new experiment which was about to take place.
"I want you to do exactly what I tell you," I began. "There can be no questions asked or the punishment will be increased. Is that understood?"
At this point she was becoming uneasy. We were completely alone. Not even a matron was in the vicinity. None of the usual accouterments were nearby. I was definitely master of the situation. She was becoming more and more aware of this. I told her she must feel the blunt of the leather on her buttocks. This would be necessary to pay for her solecism. She stared at me at first with disbelief, then as I transferred the whip from one hand to the other she finally turned and took the position which I had previously instructed her to do. Her shift was still in position. I pulled her immediately to a standing position.
"I want the bare bottom showing. Nothing will hinder the withes."
Again she had that puzzled look to her eyes "Do it" I commanded.
She turned once more, raising her shift slightly above the furrow of her ass. "Higher" I demanded. Without hesitation the cloth was raised another three inches. It was amazing that this defiant woman was taking my commands without hesitation now. It is so true that once discipline is proclaimed as law, compliance is almost immediate.
I observed my target as superficially as possible. Involvement was not my desire. Only to fulfill my appointment as a director of discipline. Still, the outward curved oval of her smooth buttocks did demand a certain amount of investigation. A finger of fuzz jutted up from the spreading crevice. If I had bent at a right angle I might have observed the hidden lips of her vagina. If dedication were not my ultimate goal I would have done so. No, instead I raised my whip at a distance of eighteen inches from her beveled buttocks. Admittedly it was the same height my mother had used those many years ago. I could not, in all honesty, say that all my actions were self-motivated, but then what in life is unique.
The initial meeting of leather and flesh caused a loud feline yelp. The sound was surprising coming from such a resistive female. It was usually on the fourth or fifth sting that such a reaction would be forthcoming. She was obviously a neophyte, one who would need more experience to appreciate the attention she was receiving. All of that would take time.
I increased my pressure on the next two swats. Because I angled the edge of the whip I was able to follow the curve of her now throbbing buttocks. If I could raise a diamond shaped welt on either side of her spreading crevice then I knew I was accomplishing the deed I had set out to complete. Suddenly her hands came back to the reddening area and a great sob choked up from her throat. "Please, no more," she weeped.
"If you move from that position then you are showing me you still want to rebel against authority and the punishment will be increased."
Her hands trembled over the blistered flesh. "I've learned my lesson. I promise I'll never involve anyone again in my foolish games."
"Do you consider what I am doing a foolish game?"
Her jaw slackened and she stared transfixed at the shimmering whip. The braided thongs danced at the tip of the leather bound rod.
"No, what you are doing is not a game. I know you're doing this to make me understand discipline. But I really can't stand the pain anymore. My bare bottom is on fire. I can hardly move my thighs without getting a terrible pain all the way to my shoulders. Five lashes is enough for my punishment."
"Are you telling me how I should conduct my office? Get down on your knees. Do you hear me? I want you to stretch that bare bottom of yours even further. I want you to feel the skin pull away from itself and then in that position I will carry out the remainder of my sentence."
She half turned away from me. "No, not on my knees. The last man that made me do that forced me to commit a terrible thing."
"Do you want the amount of lashes doubled? Answer me right now so I will know how to proceed?"
Instead of answering she slumped to her knees. Her heavy breasts shoved into the coarse prison shift. Both nipples were extremely hard as though they had mysteriously been massaged. Because of her movement, her dress had fallen down in the rear.
"Do you expect me to continue with your bottom covered? Lift that dress immediately and when your finished I want your shoulders hunched and your head up high. Also, I want to hear you count off every lash in a good clear voice. Now we're not going to have anymore of this nonsense. Let's get on with the retribution."
She lifted her head and her mouth was suddenly close to my crotch. As she began to wet her lips I could feel a drain occur in my falls. The bitch was attempting to seduce me so I would not continue with her much deserved punishment. Without any further preliminaries I swung out and snapped into the soft area between her buttocks. She attempted to rise and I locked her head between my knees. She was not going to interfer again!
On the completion of her castigation she rolled over on her side. I called the matron who brought her to her feet and by pulling her sideways was able to get her out of my office without any further delay.
Later that day I reminiscenced about the happenings of that day. There was no doubt I had made a number of serious mistakes in confronting the errant prisoner. She had been allowed too much freedom. In my mind I was constructing a special room on this same level of the institution where I could experiment with some of my ideas. If they were successful I could easily establish a reputation for myself in the history of penology. This was important to me because my whole life was dedicated to disciplining the wayward. Now I had it within my power to introduce an entirely new method of Spartanism within the walls of a woman's correctional institute.
The news of Edna St. John's sudden appointment to be my superior came as almost a traumatic shock. No notice had been given to me before although there had been rumors that pressure was being placed in certain quarters to reduce the amount of influence I had over the institute. It was all a matter of politics. I was never one to socialize with the hierarchy and now I was paying for my independence with this humiliation.
Of course this could only mean the end to all my plans for continued experimentation. Edna St. John had a reputation as a martinet. She would not allow anyone to question her authority. Although I would still have a high position in the organization, she would be the king-or should I say Queen concerning future institutional ideologies.
She arrived on the following Wednesday, complete with an all-female entourage. Despite my bitterness I was immediately struck by her regal countenance. Her aquiline features matched her manish attitude. And yet her body was all female. Although she had attempted to hide some of these qualities she had not been too successful. The hardness of her buttocks lifted up the rear of her matronly skirt. The black laced boots could not completely cover her firm calves. As she moved her arms back and forth in a modified march tempo her breasts took turns shoving forward. Each uplift was authentic. If she did wear a bra it was only for convention. Her neck had a peculiar stiffness, as though it had never bent for anyone's benefit. Soon her domination would be felt in every corner of the institute. That is, unless I could somehow come up with a counter-action. At the moment that was very un-likely.
When she entered my office I was, of course, standing to greet tier. Much of her previous princely attitude was diluted when we were eye to eye. I even noticed a certain touch of shyness and this discovery immediately gave me hope-more, it incorporated a plan in my mind which I was determined to follow through.
I remembered how similar in nature she was to Darleen Camfield, the inmate to whom I had applied my new theories of discipline. Was it possible she would, in her own way, react in the same manner? Such a thought could be disastrous to my career. And yet in my present precarious position I had little to lose. It would be unthinkable to continue under such intolerable conditions.
She introduced herself perfunctorily and her aloof aides took their place on either side of her. One had a tape recorder, the other a pad and pencil. Was I to be interviewed? How far could I allow myself to be degraded?
Her interrogation covered mostly the inside operation of the institution. I was able to answer all of her questions fully until she came to the area of corporal punishment. On this subject I purposely skirted about. As she continued her investigation I noticed an irritation grow within her firm upright belly. Her feet began to tap and one long fingernail began tracing a design on the arm of the chair. She wanted more than what I was giving her, but I wasn't going to relinquish it to her. Not now. It would be under my terms or not at all. This was the only hook I had left and I was going to lean on it as hard as I could.
Then she suddenly dismissed her aides and we were alone. She had been standing all the while, now she began to pace and the click of her heels echoed between the legs of my desk. It was while she was midway across the room that I happened to notice an oblong box one of the aides had left behind. It looked as though it might contain a musical instrument. She took no notice herself but instead began to speak to me with a casual tone of voice.
"I'm surprised you don't have more knowledge on this subject," she exclaimed. "To run an institution this size, discipline is a most necessary factor. To tell the truth, I have been asked to analyze your position here at the institution. You seem well versed in operational duties, but in the area of corporal punishment you have a definite deficiency. May I say this is a most serious omission."
I could no longer tolerate this insufferable superiority. I turned and swung open the map behind my desk. Without waiting for her reaction I grabbed the trio of whips and using all three I whipped the air near her cheek. Instead of retreating she reached down for that strange oblong box and with a single movement flipped open the top. My curiosity caused me to pause which I realized was a mistake because now she was again in command.
Inside the box was a tightly wound spring. Once it was released it snapped into a quivering rod. She held on to one end lightly as though it had the power to act on its own.
She looked at the whips in my hand and snorted. "So you do have resources for castigation. Archaic, to say the least. You should be thankful I am taking this time out of my busy schedule to teach you the latest devices."
I dropped two of the whips to the top of the desk. The one that remained in my hand was a favorite because of the split end that automatically divided when spun counterclockwise.
"You bitch!" I screamed. "I'm going to show you the meaning of real discipline. Before you leave this office your tough ass will feel the sting of twenty or more lashes. You'll know what it means to finally bend that regal neck and drop down on your knees to your real master."
I started for her, then suddenly the whip was taken from my hand. It was impossible for her to do this since she was still a good distance away from my desk. Then I saw it was the coil she had quivering in her hand. She had swung it like a whip and it had crawled out and gathered up the object it had been aimed at. Immediately I picked up the other two whips and utilized their reverse ends. The tempered ends were spiked with brass nuggets. Just a touch of their razor tips would break the skin in several parts. She had made the rules. No more talk. Action.
Again the coil made an arc. I was ready for them this time but it did little good. The flying metal coils wrapped about my knuckles and ripped the rods from my hand. Damn her! My boots would be my weapon. A well placed kicked between those thighs should slow her down. Then when she dropped to her knees I would practice the coil whip on her bare ass.
She stepped out of the way of my kick and I almost lost my balance. When the coils began to lace about my face and neck I screamed out for the matron. Of course, no one could hear anything from this office since I was the one who had originally introduced the soundproofing.
Streams of blood blotted my sight and I had to lean against my own desk. I could feel her hands loosen my belt then pull down my pants. She ripped off my shorts with a sharp instrument and before I could turn the coil was whipped across the surface of my bare ass. No, this was not happening to me! Not in my own realm! The coil fell again and again. The sting was unbearable. I cursed her with all the strength I had left inside of me. The lash whipped around my naked thighs snapping my balls. This new pain sent a strange thrill through my body. I spread my legs further apart anticipating the next lunge. Then the blows were stopped and I lifted my eyes in her direction.
"You've tasted my special brand of discipline," she exclaimed. "I can see by your stare that something has been awakened within you. Fine, we'll experiment with that later. In the meantime, drop down to your knees I have need of the tip of your nose. It's a habit I have which you'll learn to become most proficient at during the next year. Yes, I've decided to keep you on as my assistant. You still have a lot to learn and a lot to experience. But this is a quiet room and no one will bother us without permission. Isn't that the way you've set it up?"
She was right, it was the way I had set it up.
But originally it was for my own concepts of castigation. Now I realize I must bend to another's brand. In a way I'm not too sorry it has turned out this way.
There is no doubt that Lillian will continue her search for more fulfillment in this area. Spanking has , many aspects which can be investigated by the true believer. It is certainly possible to have more than one participant at a time. A spanking orgy could be a spectacular event and one which could conjure up many more bizarre thoughts along the same line.
It all depends how much energy is directed in this one area. There is little doubt that Lillian will continue to be a devotee. Her entire life revolves around the syndrome of discipline. She must involve herself deeper and deeper in order to completely understand her complex nature.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CONFESSIONS FROM A TRANSVESTITE
It makes no difference how much glory you've had in your life, if there is no love then it all has no meaning at all. Such is my burden, being both a top salaried performer and a lonely girl-or should I say man? Yes, it's true I'm not the sex I pretend to be, although in my heart I am more female than Marilyn Monroe or any of those other so-called sex symbols of Hollywood. I can also satisfy a man as completely as the most high priced whore in the world. My cock and balls have been successfully removed by a defrocked Danish doctor. In their place is a neatly contrived vagina. The orifice is ample enough for the most herculean of tools. A German gentleman once called me his "little bottomless pouch." Said in German it was much more vital. Still, with all these benefits I have yet to meet the right one to share my life. And by sharing I mean more than sexual gratification, there has to be a common bond. And also the guy who finally makes it with me has to be definitely straight!
Does that seem so strange? The whole idea of my crucial operation was to transform me from a whimpering male to an aggressive female. I want to feel a strong pair of arms about me, with rugged shoulders towering over me, attempting to dominate my life. I say "attempting" because in the end I will be the final subjugator. Yes, I firmly believe in female superiority. To hell with this laying on your back and spreading your legs just to gratify some overheated appendage. A woman should be the directing force in any man's life. And as far as I was concerned that certainly included the area of the bed.
Perhaps I am too much of a taskmaster to even really find the kind of happiness I desire. Nevertheless, I will continue to seek until I crumble away to dust like everyone else.
Since I am a professional dancer in some of the most exclusive clubs across the country I do have an opportunity to meet a variety of people. Most of the men, however, treat me as a curiosity. They are inquisitive as to how sex would be with me. Was it true I had a velvet pouch stitched between my legs? Was I limited as to the length, width and depth of the probing tool? Could I, at the right moment, exude a soothing warm liquid on the pinched head of their cock? Needless to say, I will answer none of these questions. A girl must have her secrets or she becomes as common as the daily paper. Who wants a leftover edition?
Tonight will be a special performance for me. For the first time in my career I will dance completely in the nude. Before, there were always those slight bandages for propriety and local license requirements. Now all of this is swept away with the new morality. I have mixed emotions about this new approach, however. Once I have exposed myself as being outwardly no differentt-as far as sexual symbolism is concerned-from any other female, where will the mystery be? At least with a silk cloth about my loins there was always that hovering question as to whether I have or haven't a genuine cunt.
At the last moment I decided to exclude complete nudity from the act and wear a garland of daisies draped from my hips to my pelvis. Nothing would be fastened beneath and if there should be a view of my surgically created vulva then there will still be questions to ask. Not all will be revealed and this is the way it should be. If I was going to get anywhere discovering my future love then I had to remain as circumspect as possible.
It was a good Friday night crowd. My opening number was preceded by an explosive light display plus a frantic rock number by the trio. My eyes are always straight up to the ceiling when I first burst out onto the stage. I'm looking for nothing but the exhilaration of the surging crowd. There is no special one-there can't be at that moment. Just as the heart, made of many parts, is a single entity when pumping the life blood through the body.
Once I was well ensconced on stage and I knew my dance effects were being properly received, I became more selective with my gaze.
Two guys were sitting at a front table. Both their fists were clenched as though they were in the midst of an emotional conflict. I was hoping that I was the prime reason for this disturbance. Then again they could be a couple of gays out for a masochistic evening watching a female body squirm before their eyes. It was worth an investigation because both of them fitted my description of total male. They had the body, looks and cool personality which could interest me very much. Still, if they were both ice buckets there was no use attempting any devious tactics.
During my fantastic swirl chorus I knelt down directly before their table. After frequent injections and several tendon operations I was the proud possessor of a 42 inch bust. Its elasticity was incredible when I leaned forward and gave the lower half of my body a beat rhythm. I aimed each boob directly between their eyes, and gave them a bump which should definitely stir some stagnant juices if they were of that sort. Before coming to a standing position I studied each crotch carefully. Beautiful swelling bulges were rising up in each quarter. Not bad for a starter. So far it was impossible to tell which was the winner. I flipped my daisies under their noses. Nostrils flared. Nice. Maybe they were twins and shared the same pleasures. I had never thought about an eternal three way but then again I am always open to suggestion. One thing was sure, I was going to get acquainted during the intermission.
My number usually runs forty-five minutes, but because of this new urgency I cut it a few minutes short. The manager knew what I was doing and didn't like it a bit, but I told him to take a flying fuck which always stunned him because he considered me a perfect lady.
Since I am far from shy I immediately went to the table for two and introduced myself. They both stood up at the same time and I couldn't help noticing that both bulges hadn't softened too much since my dive in their direction.
"Look," I explained quickly, "I'm not a bar hustler looking for a drink. I have to admit that you two guys intrigued me while I was dancing. I just had to come down and introduce myself. That's all there is to it."
They both started to speak at once, then the one on my left interrupted and took over. "That's very nice. We have to admit that we too were intrigued by your dance."
The other one didn't say much which surprisingly enough didn't seem to make any difference. What I was hearing from the tall, bronze faced stud to my left was more than enough to makeup for the silence from his friend. Even though our conversation was going along fine, I still had the feeling something was wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it-although I would like to have put my whole hand on that bulge-but I knew everything was not as right as I would like it to be.
Suddenly they excused themselves. Before leaving, however, the talkative one said they would return the next night and maybe then they would have more time to get acquainted. It sounded good and I was looking forward to the next meeting.
As usual Saturday night was jammed with tourists and salesmen. It had been a mistake to suggest to my two new male friends that we should meet at such a busy time. Unless they had made a definite reservation there wasn't a chance they had even standing room in the rear.
I waited for the lights and music to stop, then twirled through the beaded curtain and began to bounce my daisies. Before I was able to adapt myself to the crowd, I spotted the same two sitting at the identical table from the night before. Excitement rippled through my thighs and there was a dangerous moment when I felt faint. Never before had I actually swooned during a number. I wasn't looking forward to anything like this happening tonight-not with two male stud admirers at my feet!
There was no chance of cutting my number, not on a jammed Saturday night. In fact, I had to do two encores, because there was a live one in the audience who was buying everyone drinks and was definitely turned on by my firm breasts. Whether he knew I was an ersatz female didn't make any difference. The green was flowing and that's all that mattered to the management. For me, however, I became more and more nervous with every passing minute. Maybe my two sexy lookers might not think I'm really interested. Nothing could be further from the truth. Tonight I wanted more than a look at that bulge between their legs; I wanted to take each one in either hand and dive from one to the other in ultimate admiration.
Finally my number was over and I changed into something inconspicuous and slipped out into the crowd. Groping hands were everywhere. They still wanted to know what I had down there between the daisies. If I had my way I'd slice those fingers up into ribbons, but a girl has to think about her career so I let them roam. Not too far, but enough so they could smirk and say that they had reached forbidden territory without the usual passport.
The crowd was terrible. I could barely squeeze myself up to their table. They were delighted that I was using my intermission to visit them. If they only knew how much I was yearning for their stud bodies. They might not have been so solicitous. Again the one on the left did all the talking.
"I have something to explain to you," he said anxiously.
I was hoping it was a confession he would like to twine his muscled thighs about my body. Those are the kind of intimate disclosures I like to hear.
"We can't talk here. Can we see you later? Perhaps after the show tonight. It's very important. I hope you will be available."
I wanted to jump right out of my pants at that moment. Of course I am available, I answered. I would be available even if Universal Pictures were sitting in the front row and demanding an immediate showing.
I told Teddy the guitar player I might be a little late for the second show. If I was he could rotate his big cock a few times while beating away on his instrument. A lot of both male and females would gladly observe this private little showing while waiting for the main event.
We all took a cab to a secluded residential section of town. It was so romantic. We had only barely met and yet here we were on our way to some secret rendezvous. I was sitting between them-finally I knew their names: Dick and Don-and I wanted to share myself with both of them. There's no way of predicting the future. If someone had told me but a few days ago that I would find the happiness I had been searching for so many years with two straight studs at the same time, I would have said they were out of their faggot minds! But here it was, happening!
The house we stopped before was a two-story early American type. Dick-the one who always seemed to do all the talking-paid the driver and then he led the way up the walk. Before we entered he turned to his friend and slapped him on the shoulder. Without a word Don leaned up against the wall and became as stiff as a board. I stared at him in amazement. Quickly Dick explained. "Don is nothing more than a robot. I created him in my image and with my emotions.
I couldn't believe it. "You mean he has everything you have?"
Dick nodded. "Yes, he's a perfectly built male."
"In other words, when you got a hard on he did the same thing?"
Dick blushed. So did Don. They both nodded. My hand went down to each extended pouch. Dick was ample. Don was fantastic. His throbbing transfered to the tip of my elbows. I swallowed and stood back moving my eyes from one to the other.
Time has a way of passing quickly. I am happy to say I am no longer a lonely woman. That one incident of meeting Dick and Don completely changed my life. I still make an excellent living as an exotic dancer, but now I have a home life which I would not trade for all the gold in my agent's pocket. I have one man to whom I devote my entire life. Isn't that the way it should be. And having a robot for a husband has its definite advantages. I know exactly where his turnoff switch is located. Somehow I always win every argument.
Are you surprised I chose the robot instead of the real thing? Well, as you know I'm a makeshift girl myself. My pieces were put together too and it's nice to have someone around the house who completely understands the situation. Besides I found out later that Don's parts were interchangeable. Sometimes I just don't like a large tool inserted in me. And so, with only a few twists I snap on another size and away we go.
Yes, the lonely days are gone forever. Whoever said the machine age was a curse to man-or to woman?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
PROFILE OF A DIRTY BOOK WRITER
You might think that writing about sexually aroused women all day is an exciting way to make a living. Actually it can be a terrible bore, since by necessity you must be alone while creating.
Up to this moment I have completed sixty-two complete novels. Each requires about four months for a first and second draft, then a final rewrite. So if you multiply those two numbers together you can see how long I've been caged up my apartment. Not that it by any means is uncomfortable-I live in the best style possible-but the rooms are empty of companionship.
Last Sunday I decided to change my entire lifestyle. Not that I would not continue writing but I needed a more direct contact with people or I would eventually become a strange type of psychotic.
My past sex life had been dependent on the character I was writing about at the time. For instance, if I should be investigating the sex-kitten type, my love life would be soft, tender and coquettish one. If, however, I were in the midst of a sado-machochist chronicle, then a packet of whips and chains would be secreted about the house. So it goes. From one extreme to another with no real involvement in any of it. How much longer can the psyche tolerate this total indifference to human relationship?
To begin my new sexual pilgrimage I left Los Angeles in a Greyhound bus heading for San Francisco. It was the most nondescript manner I could think of at the moment. I carried enough traveler's checks to hold me over if I decided to stop on the way. This could very well happen since I was going to allow myself to be open to anything.
The bus was only moderately crowded. Most were drab looking people on their way to similar existance. Immediately I knew I was incorrect with this first impression. Experience had been a thorough teacher. People I had first despised later became close acquaintances. There was never any way to predict a relationship.
As I sat down beside the schoolteacher-like type I tried to keep this in mind. It wasn't easy since she had her hair pulled back tight against her head and wore oval shaded glasses. She hardly looked as I slid into my seat and proceeded to open a newspaper. As the bus pulled away from the station I suddenly felt her knee press against my leg. I passed this off as a lurch from the bus. But then it continued even when we were on a straightaway. Since it was going to be a long trip I returned the pressure and even allowed my fingers to brush lightly against her thigh. She, in turn, touched the bend of my knee. I pushed harder with my leg and pulled up one side of her skirt. The lace edge of her panties appeared to have a heat of its own. It was either my imagination or she was able to generate her body warmth to her garments. I was thinking about this when her two dainty fingers squeezed the tip of my cock. I couldn't believe she would do something as brazen as this. If she were a teacher I wondered what subject she taught. Perhaps sex education and she was taking this trip as a refresher course. If this was the case I would give her some experiences which could open entirely new fields for her. My hand quickly ducked beneath her panties into the soft fur region of her love pocket. It was deliciously warm and a moist streak ran down one side of my forefinger. I quickly snatched it away as someone moved by my seat on their way to the rear rest room. Then I began to wonder if it were at all possible that both of us could go to the rear and become more friendly. I leaned over to subtly suggest this when she brisquely turned her head away. Was she only interested in this furtive type of groping? I reached back into my literary experiences but could not catalog such a reaction. It might have been the shock of seeing the man in the asile. Probably nothing more complicated than that. I settled my hand once more against the side of her thigh. Suddenly her hand swung out. "Damn pervert!" she screamed. She stood up in front of her seat and her hands flew out at me once more. By this time the bus had stopped and the driver was scurrying up the asile. After her vitriolic outburst I was put off at the next station.
It seemed impossible that I was standing there on the curb of a hick town ejected from a Greyhound bus. How was it possible that I couldn't have predicted this bizarre sexual response? Especially the tragic ending. Apparently when I am immersed in an attempted affiliation, and memory of my professional training fades. And so, even though I am stopped in my forward journey, a new insight has been presented to me.
Fortunately I am in the financial position to be able to continue my tour without interruption. I decided to take a cab to the nearest airport and increase my speed up to the northern provinces. I really didn't notice the driver until I just happened to glance up into the rear view mirror. Although she was wearing a crushed cap over her forehead, the wide unblinking eyes focused my gaze immediately. She had that elfin nose you like to swallow. And right in the center of her apple tinted chin was a deep cleft-the kind that always signifies a desire for involved sex. I swallowed without really having anything to send down my throat. She grinned back and reached up to remove her hat. With this one movement a remarkable transformation took place. Before she was the blossoming nymph type. Now, without the covering over her flowing blonde hair, she took on a regal look. A stately young princess, seeking a prince who will fill her need.
"I don't have to be at the airport for the next hour," I suggested.
"You might like to rest awhile," she answered from atop of her throne.
The cab skidded at the next turn and we were suddenly headed east. I wanted to reach up and test the elasticity of those two hidden boobs but the passing traffic was increasing and I didn't want any double takes on the way to the princesses castle.
The "castle" turned out to be a two story wooden house on a deadend street. A huge dog was roped to the outside gate. His tail wagged and his ears flapped as the princess guided me up the walk. I took little notice of the animal since her ass was now free of that leather seat and was rotating on its own r.p.m. To say that her movement was mind busting would not be giving her full credit. Her touch of naivety made it all that much more enhancing. I think it would be safe to say she had never observed her rear in action at any time during her adult life. If she had then there would be that added professional touch which always spoils the final product.
Jokingly I asked her if she had left the meter running.
"Oh it won't take that long," she answered.
Clever girl. She could see that I was hot and ready to move. It was impossible for her to know much about the bus incident, although she might have observed me leaving in a hurry.
"Please wait here," she said as we entered the farm-like sitting room. Several guns were laced to the wall and a number of nondescript trophies rested on a jutting ledge at one end of the room. Otherwise the furnishings were ordinary. All except the many photographs on the wall. Each frame carried the pose of a nude man. Only when I came closer did I realize that they were all the same man.
"You're very kind to visit me," she said, walking back into the room. I had half expected to see her nude or at least partially so, but instead she was fully dressed and, in fact, now wore gloves. I smiled up at her and reached up to take her down with me. She stepped back against the side of the door to allow this huge dude to walk by her. "This is my brother Donald Junior and he's very glad that you decided to visit me also."
What had I involved myself into this time? If it was a brother and sister three way, forget it. There's nothing worse than having two in the family pawing over you. Always there is that final argument about blood being thicker than water. I decided to ease myself out of this situation as quickly as possible.
"Would you believe I made a mistake regarding the time my plane was leaving?"
Donald Junior's flat lips didn't budge. His eyes were like singed burlap. "You've got time," he mumbled." His hand reached down to his fly and tugged open the flap. "Suck it or I'll bust your head." I looked at the girl. Her eyes were still wide and innocent. She nodded her head. "Go ahead, mister. He means it. The last fare I brought here had to be carried out the back way. You just don't look like the type."
I'm not the type to suck off some guy's cock either. Forget it. How much do you want for this little joy ride? I'm going to be on my way."
Donald Junior grabbed the lobes of each of my ears. When he pulled down I dropped down to my knees and my mouth automatically dropped open. Before I could snap my teeth shut, the tip of his rod was in place. My tongue attempted to block his complete entrance. He was well practiced and the delay was only for a moment. The shaft went its full length and continued to pump until there was a grunt above and a spume down below. I choked from the sudden bombardment of foam.
"All ready for the airport now," said my driver coyly.
It took awhile for my knees to adjust to a standing position. Donald Junior hitched up his pants as though he had momentarily adjusted his belt. I was forgotten. If only I could forget Donald Junior.
Once in the cab she became more talkative. "My brother has always been shy. I'm his only kin and I feel I have to help him when he has an anxiety. It's good to help someone through life, don't you think so, mister?"
At this point I was unable to carry on a normal conversation. Not only was my throat sore but my mind was bubbling like an overcooked pot of beans. All I did was nod all the way to the airport. I didn't give her a tip even though I could afford it. I felt I had left more than necessary on the floor of her brother's house.
Thick fog was preventing planes from leaving the ground and yet I wanted to keeping moving. The entire idea of this trip was involvement. True, so far it had been disastrous, but change was the only sure thing about life. No matter how curious the next incident might be I would fully examine it before advancing into it any further than the initial threshold. My mistake in the past had been a lax in preparation. I allowed a happening to engulf me without utilizing my command of psychological knowledge. Perhaps it was the novelty of traveling without purpose which had left me so unprepared. Now after two disasters, I was no longer going to allow myself to be tricked into a compromising state again.
I went to the nearest Coast Rent-a-Car Agency. Service was excellent and I received the necessary transportation within the half hour. The coast highway was not recommended because of the thickening fog. I took it anyway because I needed a physical challenge at that moment to overcome my growing remorse.
As predicted the highway was shrouded in deep mist. The double headlights only penetrated a short distance. Even with the piercing fog beams it was still necessary to creep along a barely five miles an hour. Again I had been foolish. What would this molasses journey prove? I was about to turn back to the garage when I saw the muffled figure standing by the side of the road. Her long hair was twisted over one shoulder and it was only when I was but twenty feet away that I saw she was completely naked. All my senses were immediately alerted. Was she a decoy? Perhaps as escapee from a nearby mental institution? Did she have a brother who was shy? Maybe she only wanted to be viewed. If touched she would scream for the authorities. How many of these were true?
There was only one real way to find out. I gathered a blanket up from the rear seat and stopped the car.
"Thank you. Thank you, for stopping. I didn't think anyone would be on the highway tonight. I've been robbed. My car and all my clothes have been stolen. Please may I wrap your blanket around me and ride to the next town for help?"
Of course I agreed, tucking the blanket aggressively about her thighs. This one was going to have it my way. She swooned lightly against the back of the chair and in this position I had her. When I finally pulled it out and leaned back up against the dashboard, she began to cry.
"Hey, it wasn't that bad," I protested.
"You don't understand," she groaned. "I'm a writer of sex books and I tried to get away from my work, but I'm getting laid almost every hour. It's just terrible. Nothing is working out for me at all."
I didn't have the heart to tell her that finally, after an eternity, everything was going just right for another dirty book writer on the road.
CONCLUSION
It has probably been noted that in nearly all of the preceding case histories, causation for the eventual psycho-sexual problem in later life has been fixed on a childhood level. This is because it is an established fact that the basis of nearly all adult neuroses or psychoses is found to be involved with environmental, sociological or family experiences during the period from babyhood to adolescence.
Sexual deviation is the physical extension of a deeply rooted neurosis and in some cases a psychosis.
A Boston psychologist, having studied the case histories that comprise a good part of this volume, states:
"The interesting thing here is that so many of these cases of warped sexual tendencies could have been avoided if the parents, teachers, relatives, the family doctor-someone-had been available for help at the beginning.
They talk today of the lack of communication between teenagers and their parents as being the main reason for the current teenage rebellion. It is my opinion that the lack of communication between parent and child or between child and any adult for that matter, from the time the child is a babe in arms, is even more appalling.
From the time a child learns to talk, he "learns" that sexual and some other bodily functions are fascinating and yet are taboo for discussion with adults. They are considered "dirty". Naturally, he becomes secretive about these things. Or he gets wrong, distorted viewpoints, opinions, definitions from other children. What choice does he have?
The fact that it is difficult for even the most liberal knowledgeable parents to communicate with their children along certain lines, does not alter matters. They must not kid themselves that their little boy or their little girl, is not at some age going to experiment with masturbation or investigative sexual exploration."
