INTRODUCTION ... "He ... just reached out and grabbed my top and yanked. It came away and I was naked to the waist, with my breasts bare and shaking, because I was crying and trying not to.
"Bruce reached over and squeezed one breast so hard I yelped. It hurt. And he laughed. Then two boys grabbed my arms and pulled me back on the cot while two more ripped my little bitty pants off. I tried to kick them, but they just laughed and twisted my legs until I almost screamed.
"Bruce sort of gave orders to the others and they held me, spraddle-legged on the cot, while Bruce pulled his pants down. I could see his pecker, hanging down but getting stiff and rising, until it was almost straight up, and purplish red and shiny. And dripping juices. I could see all this and couldn't quite believe it. Things like this didn't happen. Not in our crowd. Not to girls like me.
"I'd never seen a boy's-well, Bruce was almost grown, so, say, man's-pecker full-size and stiff, and coming right at my little cunt.
"The boys that were holding my arms each grabbed one tit and started squeezing, and the ones holding my legs started rubbing along the inside of my thighs. In spite of trying not to scream and being so scared, I knew my little cunt was getting wet and opening up.
"Bruce walked in, between my legs, aiming his big prick right at my cunt and laughing. 'See, she likes it. Look at her box, opening up. Yeah, man, she's really gonna like this.'
"And he rammed his prick right at my cunt. I screamed and squirmed and tried to move aside but the boys holding my legs were strong. And one of the others slapped my face so hard I saw stars. And felt the pain of Bruce sticking his big prick into me. Hard. And pushing. So the pain shot all the way up me.
"I could see his prick, buried in my hole, and feel it, like a big baseball bat sliding up inside me. Then he was working back and forth, rubbing that big prick up inside me. It hurt something awful and at the same time was awfully exciting. And Bruce was sweating and laughing like crazy and pumping back and forth until I could feel his prick swell even bigger and start to pulse. Suddenly he rammed it against my cunt so hard I could feel his balls banging my behind. And held it, squirting his juices way up me, in great hot spurts.
"He stood there, twisting and grunting and wriggling, driving his prick as deep as it would go, and moaning. Then he seemed to deflate and sag. His prick went down, too, and started sliding out.
"I figured it was all over and they'd let me go. Only they didn't. Each of the other boys stuck his prick in me. Or I think so. I think all of them did. I don't really remember after the first two or three. The pain was so great I fainted. Only I'd sort of half wake up and there'd be another boy banging his prick into me. Even the two Bruce had left on guard.
"And then Bruce again.
"It was while Bruce was banging me that I heard the scream. I'd been screaming so much I thought it was me I was hearing. But it wasn't, this time. It was one of the boys.
"My older brother had come. He's a marine. And he had a couple or three" marine buddies with him.
"Bruce was still screwing me when my brother came charging in. Jim just swooped over on Bruce, raised both hands above his head and came down with a judo chop. I understand he broke both collarbones. Bruce screamed and tried to turn. Jim caught him one right under the chin and snapped his head back.
"I guess I fainted about then. I don't remember much of the fight. Not that it was so much of a fight. Jim and his buddies just mopped up the place. Those motorcycle boys were tough, but a commando-trained marine is a lot tougher. I heard that Bruce was so badly beaten he screamed for mercy-and then ran outside and tried to get away on his motorcycle. Only, with his face beat to a pulp and his arms not working, on account of the broken collarbones, he couldn't handle the bike. So he went right off the mountain and was killed.
"Jim and his buddies were taking the others apart-so I heard-when the police came. Hal had called my brother and then the police, and since one of the boys-Benny, I think, knew where the gang's headquarters was and told Jim, Jim got there ahead of the cops. And the ambulance.
"I don't remember the ambulance or the ride to the hospital or anything for maybe a week or so. And I'd wake up screaming. Not from pain. I think they gave me things for the pain, but not for forgetting the awful things that had happened to me.
"Then, months later, there was the trial. First the state tried Jim and his buddies for manslaughter. And I had to go all through that awful night again, describing it for the court, so that Jim could go free. Oh, he went freeand I think the judge would have given him a medal if it had been allowed.
"Then I had to go all through it a second time at the trial of the motorcycle gang. Except they had all got haircuts and shaved off their sideburns, trying to look respectable and cleancut. It didn't work. And they all went to the penitentiary for different periods. I didn't understand that, because each of them had screwed me. Only they all tried to lay it on Bruce, who was dead. Especially the kidnaping part.
"I went away after that, to a girls' school. My family wanted me to forget. Only, I couldn't forget. And I didn't forget in college, when I went there. The nightmares were just as bad, only I'd learned not to scream.
"I couldn't go out with boys. I just couldn't bear the idea of one of 'em touching me. And yet there were times when I wanted sex. I mean, wanted it so bad it actually hurt me, inside. I could feel all the want and hunger but the very idea of anything like that happening to me made me feel ill, churning me up, inside.
"I hadn't seen Jim since the trials, mostly because he'd gone back to the service, while I was off at that girls' school and college. It wasn't that we avoided each other or that my family didn't want me to see Jim because it might remind me of that awful night. It just happened we didn't connect.
"Then Jim was out of the service and staying in a town near the college, so I went over one weekend to see him. I was shocked. Jim looked haggard. Like worn and thin. He was lying on the bed in his room, just staring at the ceiling. He barely greeted me.
"I asked him what was wrong. He told me.
"'I'm a murderer, kid. I killed that man just as sure as if I'd wrung his neck. Saying it was justified doesn't make it any less murder. It just means that if something got me angry enough-like what happened to you-I could kill again. Not that I'm trying to excuse it, or put anything off on you, kid.'
"It seems Jim wouldn't go out with girls. He honestly couldn't bring himself to go out with 'em or think about screwing them. Or even getting married, because that meant screwing. And that meant remembering why he'd killed a man. Yet he was hungry for a girl. He really needed one. I mean he needed one to sleep with, so he could release some tensions and maybe learn to be whole again.
"We talked about it until late that night.
About him needing a girl and me being hungry for sex and yet scared to screw.
"We really needed each other. But how? And then it occurred to me. I couldn't think of a guy going in my little cunt again-but there was another hole. My asshole.
"It could help us both to readjust. Jim wouldn't hear of it, when I first suggested it. In fact, he was sort of horrified. Boys are lots bigger prudes than girls in some ways. It could be the answer to both our problems. So why not?
"It took some persuasion. I even did a sort of striptease to break him down. And I did, finally. I was there, stark-naked, shaking a little, because I wasn't altogether sure I could take it, without going crackers. And Jim was looking at me, hungry like, and groaning.
"I had to help him off with his trousers and pull down his underpants. But he was getting a hard on by then. His prick looked enormous-like a baseball bat with a big purple-reddish knob. I was sure, now that I'd started this, that I'd never get that big prick in my little asshole.
"Jim had some vaseline and I worked that around my asshole and then threw myself on the bed, facedown, waiting.
"Jim was very gentle. He caressed my back and then slid his hands around to tease my breasts and fondle my nipples, so I was getting more interested in sex and less scared of what was going to happen.
"My little cunt was filling up with juices and starting to quiver when I felt Jim slide his prick between my legs, under my asshole and rubbing against my cunt. It was so different from the way it had happened the first time that I could really relax and let the waves of heat and flashes of sex shoot through me, relaxing my legs until they just fell apart.
"Jim slid his prick right up to my asshole and sort of hung there, poised, waiting, I guess, for me to give some sort of signal I was ready. So I humped up and felt the head of his prick slide in, and felt my little asshole grab hungrily at it.
"Then Jim eased his prick on in, being very careful to wait and see if he was hurting me. He wasn't. It suddenly felt glorious. All that big prick sliding up my asshole, starting all sorts of excitement inside me! Marvelous! And I wasn't a bit afraid. I mean, I didn't feel like screaming or anything, except maybe for sheer pleasure.
"Then his prick slid all the way in, so deep I could feel his balls thumping between my legs, right up against my cunt. And my little twat was chewing at them. And we were asshole fucking, in a kind of ragged rhythm that soon settled down into a real smooth, red-hot get together, with all kinds of wonderful things happening way up inside me. Most of it because Jim's big ole prick was pulsing away far up my asshole.
"I hadn't known asshole fucking could be so wonderful. I had just sort of meant it as a kind of exercise for me and Jim, to get rid of some of our inhibitions. Only it turned out wonderful. I hadn't even known there were places up my asshole that could feel so strongly and cause my juices to flow so freely.
"And when Jim shot off, ramming his prick hard against me, I could feel my own juices let go. And all sorts of exciting things happened inside me. Even when his prick was deflating and sliding out of my asshole, I could feel excitement and deep, deep contentment. Yes, in one evening, I had got rid of a lot of inhibitions-just through asshole fucking. I loved it."
The case of Alice who, at the age of about fifteen, was kidnaped and raped by a motorcycle gang, is an extreme instance of preconditioning through traumatic shock. True, as she admitted afterward, she had deliberately stirred up interest among the cycle gang members by "strutting" in her very brief drum majorette costume. And in quarreling with her escort over the incident, laid the foundation for her kidnaping, which started with her accepting "a ride home" from one of the motorcyclists, Bruce.
The violence of the rape of Alice produced a profound trauma. Fortunately, this was not complicated by any guilt complex, or if so, only a very slight one on the basis of her initiating the action by "strutting." It is, however, a very clear-cut instance of extreme preconditioning toward heterosexual anal coitus.
Normally, analisim in heterosexual relationships is practiced by many as a variation on the uterogenital position, to stimulate the male and female to more ardent response in the normal uterogenital position when it is resumed. It is also practiced in heterosexual relationships at the menstrual period, when the female's uterus is absorbed in other activities, should both partners feel the compulsion toward a sexual relationship. It is occasionally practiced permissively by the female, who may have only slight sexual gratification, when the male partner is insistent upon a sexual relationship at a time when the female is menstruating or is in her reproductive cycle and fears impregnation.
In the male homosexual relationship analism is one of several means of obtaining sexual gratification and is the sexual act most generally understood as being the customary practice of homosexuals, though fellatio is also a common practice in the male homosexual relationship.
In both male and female masturbation, the anus is frequently used for excitation to orgasm, either solely or as a supplement to other forms of masturbation. The insertion of a long, penis-like object in the anus (often a douche or enema nozzle, both being handy and inconspicuous-most masturbators are highly secretive) is known to create a sexual response, varying considerably with the individual. Even the application of an enema for relief of constipation is known to arouse sexual response, though rarely to the extent of an orgasm, except in persons anally oriented.
It is this group we will consider here: particularly females who derive sexual gratification from the practice of analism with a male partner. More particularly, in this volume we will attempt, by studies of case histories, to comprehend the forces, psychological and biological, that are operative in heterosexual analism.
The biological factor is of first consideration. Why, when a male penis is available, should a female prefer the anal approach to the more normal uterogenital?
The anus is an erogenous zone; that is, it is one which, when stimulated, gives rise to an erotic or sexual response. Erogenous comes from the Greek eros, "desire," plus gen, "born" or "created." Thus, these are areas of the body that create desire. The word is of recent origin. It was "born" only about a hundred years ago, after Charcot's study of "areas of sympathy," hysterogenic zones, "hysterogenic action" having been defined still earlier by John Hunter as "the action of one part in consequence of an application being made to another part." The latter was applied to persons suffering from diseases commonly called nervous, hypochondriac or hysteric. The sexual side of these "sympathetic" areas was not considered by men of science as being worthy of the dignity of their profession until about a century ago, when Ernest Chambard, in examining hysterics at the Asylum of Sainte-Anne in Paris, noted that the excitation or stimulation of various areas of the body frequently produced orgasm. He was dealing with hysterics first. Chambard states:
There exists in the normal state, and especially in women, on the surface of the skin a certain number of regions, comparable to the epileptogenic centers of M. BrownSequard, to which the name erogenic centers might be applied.
He lists them:
Among these centers some are constant; such are, independent of the dermo-mucous covering of the external genital organs, the mucous surface of the mouth of the womb, the inner side of the thigh, the inguino-crural and ilioinguinal regions, and especially the nipples.
Other areas, he says, are less constant and may vary from subject to subject and, in the same subject, from time to time. The ilioinguinal region he mentions, is, in less scientific jargon, the anal area, especially the interior walls of the intestine leading to the anus. Other areas mentioned as offering varying degrees of erogenous responses are the palms of the hand, the throat just below the ear, and the inner side of the arm and the armpit. Freud (later) was more inclusive; he said the entire skin was an "erotogenous center."
The German-Austrian school of psychiatry, with their Teutonic love of additional syllables, generally prefers the term "erotogenous" centers," the English school, typified in Havelock Ellis, seems to accept "erogenic zones," while the French, with typical Gallic frugality, calls them simply "erogenes." Later psychiatrists, especially the Americans, Woodard, et al, prefer the term "erogenous zones" (used here).
Lovers have known of these erogenous zones centuries before any name was applied to them and their functions defined. Don Juan, the notorious seducer, mentions them in accounts of his amours; Benvenuto Cellini, sculptor, goldsmith, and lover extraordinary, notes the same phenomena; Shakespeare has several of his characters, in various plays, note this response.
Chambard, and others who followed him, recognized the dermomucous covering of the external sex organs (in women, the vulva) as the primary area of stimulation to sexual response. The inner side of the thigh, the nipples, the anus with the nates (buttocks) and the mouth are generally recognized as the secondary zones. Tertiary zones were the inner side of the arm, the leg, the back of the neck, and the palm of the hand. In the 1920s, when I was growing up, it was popularly supposed that tickling the palm of a girl's hand would immediately cause her to fall into one's arms with interesting results (not proven by experience).
Freud's suggestion that the entire skin is an erogenous zone/erotogenous center is now generally considered as invalid except when the woman is at least partially aroused or is preconditioned by her own erotic needs or by previous experiences. There can be no doubt, though, that the secondary erogenous zones function in all normal women, among these is the ilioinguinal area, the membranous canal-like structure that extends from the exterior anus up into the body" cavity and is generally shut off by main sphincter muscle. This sphincter muscle, as we shall see, can be activated consciously during anal coitus", by the woman to simulate the activity of the vulva and vaginal tract in uterogenital coitus.
Why should a woman who is sexually aroused choose anal coitus over uterogenital? Fear of impregnation is one; another is preconditioning from a variety of causes, including fear induced by a previous rape or near-rape and emotional blocks against the use of the vulva and vaginal tract reaching back into childhood and induced by a wide variety of causes generally related to fear (excessive whipping when a child, which overstimulated the normal secondary characteristics of the ilioinguinal areas, traumas of a wide range of causes, and, very rarely, a biological inversion of the neurosexual relationship) . In men this is often used to explain their homosexual anal relationship but is rarely valid. The condition described is so extremely rare as to be virtually nonexistent.
Heterosexual anal coitus is more generally explained by some form of preconditioning. In the case histories that follow it is possible to trace this preconditioning, some very slight, some no greater than a mother's admonition. With many it is fear of pregnancy. Few are so sharply defined as the trauma experienced by Alice because of the gang rape.
Intrinsically, there is nothing wrong with anal coitus as a heterosexual practice when it is used by a couple only as a variant to their normal sex activities. It only becomes a danger to the emotional makeup of a person when it is the sole or principal outlet for sexual activity. Then anal coitus itself becomes an obsession and an emotional disturbance for which psychiatric care is generally recommended.
But this amounts to saying very little about the subject matter of this study, in which the cases of anal intercourse that had been brought to the attention of psychiatrists and social workers were not so much of interest because of their anal nature, per se, but because they were of an incestuous anal nature. There is no doubt that the reasons presented above for a girl's or a woman's preference for coitus in ano, as the medical profession prefers to term anal intercourse, apply to the feminine psyche regardless of whether her love partner is a stranger, a husband, or a brother. What becomes of interest then is the question of why a girl will turn to her brother for sexual gratification to begin with, and then, why she will accept this sexual gratification anally rather than vaginally.
One could say that whatever right a person does, he or she does because of a fear of doing a wrong; although, in most instances, this fear is not of the wrong itself but rather of the punishment, a natural consequence to wrongdoing.. One could also say, then, that whatever wrong a person does; he or she does because of a fear of doing a greater wrong, or of doing a more threatening-in some instances, imaginarily so, threatening-right.
Applying this "explanation" to sexual acts to two morally distinct sexual relationships-the first, properly marital, the second, incestuous-we have the following balance of fears and results. Love has been intentionally left out of the analysis.
Married couples engage in sexual intercourse with each other (doing the right), because they fear (unconsciously), or if they do not fear, then the potentiality of that fear is still present, that they will engage in sexual intercourse with someone other than their marital partner (doing the wrong). Naturally, if the couple do not have any psychopathological sexual difficulties, neither the man nor the woman fear the extramarital act of sexual intercourse, per se, rather they fear the loss of his or her loved one, position, reputation, or money (fear of punishment).
In the case of illicit love, such as an incestuous affair between a brother and a sister, once the incestuous relationship has been firmly established (doing the wrong), the boy or the girl, or both of them, may decide (and this decision may be reached subconsciously) to do a lesser wrong (engage in anal intercourse, since it presents no danger of producing incestuous offspring) because they fear doing a greater wrong (namely, engage in vaginal intercourse).
The paradox of anal intercourse being a lesser wrong and of vaginal intercourse being a greater wrong should be a sufficient indication of the difficulties of analyzing the sexual psychopathology of anal incest. This study does not claim to be a conclusive report on the tragic ecstasy of brother-sister relationships; neither does it intend to be a eulogy on the ecstatic tragedy of those affairs. Its only intent is to throw some light on the problems of modern society, and thus fit another piece into the jigsaw of human existence.
CHAPTER ONE
Eloise ... Spoon-fashion Love
"I had a pretty good upbringing, I guess you'd say. I mean, we had what every kid has and maybe more. It was a nice house where I was brought up. Father and mother were nice people, clean, neat and not too strict. We had to obey but they didn't yell and scream at us, as some parents I know of do.
"Father had a car and mother had her own compact. And Fred, my older brother, was always working on some jalopy out in the garage. I remember it used to irritate Father because Fred was always using his tools and leaving them scattered around. Fred was a pretty good mechanic, I guess, but he wasn't neat. Even his room wasn't neat. He had all sorts of things he called souvenirs-'Stop' signs, 'One Way' signs, banners of colleges he never went to and wasn't likely to, and even a pair of girl's panties that he liked to pretend he'd got on a pantie raid only he'd never been on one because he was still in high school. They were supposed to be hung up but they never were, not for long. And tennis rackets and skis-one that he liked to tell he'd broken at some ski lodge, but actually Mother had run over it in the garage-and a couple of baseballs. His prize was a baseball actually autographed by Satchel Paige.
"I mean, Fred was just any boy you'd see anywhere. Nice enough, I guess, but as a brother not very exciting. I mean, at the start I didn't have any feelings about him as a boy. He was just my brother Fred.
"We had connecting rooms. We'd always had them, ever since I can remember, except I vaguely remember we once shared a room. That was way back when I was a little girl, maybe seven or so, or even younger, and Fred was maybe ten of eleven.
"We had separate beds, even back then, but lots of times I'd crawl in with Fred and we'd sleep spoon-fashion. Know what that is? You sort of curl up together, my back to his front.
It was always my back to his front and knees sort of together, mostly because I was smaller and we fitted better that way.
"I don't recall ever feeling sexy, or Fred feeling me up, or my even being interested in the fact that he had a pecker. Except that I didn't like our difference. His seemed so sort bf convenient, especially on a picnic when he could just step behind a tree and let go and I had to find a bushy place where I could squat. It just didn't seem a very fair arrangement.
"I don't think I thought much about sex, not in connection with me, until after I had my first period. All that blood scared me, but the feelings also got me interested, especially after it was all over. I felt prickly and my breasts would get to aching and my nipples would harden just from touching my bra. It wasn't much of a bra, because I really didn't have very big breasts. I don't even have big ones now. Oh, they're nice enough, round and firm, but just not very big.
"I guess I was about fourteen, then. I matured sort of late, I think. At least a lot of girls in school had lots bigger breasts than I did and talked about boys long before I did. They wore Tampax, too, and bragged about it, making out they were grown up.
"I don't think any of the girls in our crowd were actually sleeping with boys-screwing, I mean-but they liked to hint at things, making it mysterious and exciting. And some of the things they hinted were downright scarey. About diseases and getting 'caught' and how you had to be careful.
"Fred had been off to camp most of the summer I turned fifteen and he got pretty well developed. Still, he was just my big brother who always smelled a little bit of gasoline and motor oil, from his jalopy.
"It's hard now to remember just how I felt that late summer evening it all started. I mean, I don't remember thinking about sex or getting screwed or even that Fred was almost a man and had a pecker just like the ones the girls at school liked to whisper about.
"I knew he had a pecker. All boys do, I know now. And it did seem a lot bigger-longer and a lot bigger around-than before. I saw him in the shower, cleaning up after working on his jalopy. He was kind of careless about locking the bathroom door or wearing a robe when he came out. Mostly, I guess, because that was the 'kids' bathroom' and I was just his kid sister.
"Maybe seeing him naked did get me kind of stirred up, reminding me of all the things the girls at school had said about boys and their peckers. I honestly don't know, now. I only know that I got awfully lonesome that night-a sort of vague feeling, really, that nobody loved me. Maybe Mother had scolded me. I just don't know. Anyway, I knew I wanted to sleep spoon-fashion with Fred, like having him there was proof that somebody loved me.
"Mother and Father had gone to town, to the theater, as I recall. They always stayed late, for dancing and maybe a few drinks after the theater. So there wasn't anybody to comfort me. That's really why I slipped into Fred's room.
"He was already in bed, sprawled out all over the bed, as he usually was, legs flung out, arms spread. Not sleeping yet, just-relaxing. He called it letting his muscles rest. He seemed a little surprised to see me. 'Hi, towhead!' he said. That's because I'm blonde. Or was then. 'Can't sleep?' he asked. Then he flipped back the covers so I could crawl in, just like I used to when I was a little kid.
"I think maybe just about then I got an inkling of what I was about to do. I mean, I figured it wasn't quite right but I didn't really know what about. Just a sort of guilty feeling, knotting up in my stomach.
"So I jumped in quick and snuggled up to Fred. Like always, he sort of curled around me, making me feel suddenly warm and comforted. Not completely comfortable, you understand, because I still had a sort of knot in my stomach.
"Even that went away after he put his arms around me and I could feel his warmth all down my back and around my ass. Oh, yes, I use words like 'ass' now, words nice girls don't use. But I only use them when I talk to somebody like a psychiatrist. I think maybe using dirty words like that helps clean out some of the ugliness in me, the dirty things I think about from time to time.
"Fred's legs are awfully long and they bent around my ass and under my knees, so I could feel him down the whole length of my back. And feel him getting warm and getting me warm. One arm was sort of under my neck and draped down across one breast and the other reached around from the other side and came up under my breast.
"I don't think he really noticed at first. I mean, we'd been doing this for years and I hadn't had any breasts to feel, and now I did. He sort of jerked one hand away when he felt my breast under it. The other one was sort of trapped under me, so he couldn't jerk that away.
"I could feel him try to move it, and it was exciting. Sort of took my breath away. So I caught his free hand and put it back on my breast. The nipples were already getting hard, and down between my legs I was really getting hot. I mean, I could feel the heat myself. And I could feel his prick getting stiff, pushing at my ass, from in his pajamas.
"I had on my shortie nightgrown, which had somehow got hiked up when I scrambled into the bed, so there wasn't anything between me and his prick except his pajamas. And the fly was open. So soon there wasn't anything between my ass and his prick.
"Fred must have felt the head of his prick sticking between my legs because he tried to pull back, only I snuggled up closer because it felt so good tucked in between the cheeks of my ass, almost touching my asshole. Anus, I suppose I should say, because I do know the proper terms, only, if I'm trying to purge myself, using those dirty words helps.
"I kind of squirmed a little bit, pushing back and opening the cheeks of my ass so his prick would slide in farther. I could feel it actually touch my asshole, which made it twitch. I could feel it twitch and I think Fred did, too, because he suddenly pulled back and kind of moaned. Then he pushed it hard against my asshole.
"And his hands were fumbling with the front of my shortie, trying to feel my bare tits. The nipples were so hard then I knew he could feel them even through the cloth, which was pretty sheer anyway.
"That made me really excited and I wriggled my ass up tighter against his prick. It slipped on through my legs and came up against my pussy, where I was really getting hot-and wet. I rubbed back and forth a few times, to make the head of his prick touch my pussy. Then the juices really started to flow. I could feel the lips of my pussy opening up and touching the head of his prick.
"I clamped by legs together to make his prick fit tighter and make the rubbing more exciting. And Fred was helping, now, pumping back and forth and muttering, 'Mustn't! Mustn't!' But he kept on, anyway.
"His hands kept fumbling at the neck of my shortie, which was kind of modest and old-fashion. Then he put his hands down on my leg and slid it up, all along my stomach-real shivery and exciting-to reach my breast. He squeezed gently on it and then ran his finger around my nipple. That really made me take a deep breath and hold it because the feeling was so good.
"I was now wiggling my little ass and making his prick wiggle against my pussy. I mean, I was all ready to get screwed-but I was scared, too. Maybe the scariness was part of the excitement, like when I was lots younger it was fun to think about dragons and bogeymen and cuddle deep in the covers. Maybe that was even the beginning of sex. The dragons and bogeymen, I mean.
"This was the real thing. This was a boy-even if he was my brother, Fred-with his prick right up against my pussy, and pumping. And my little asshole was jumping, too. I hadn't expected that. I mean, an asshole was just for one thing and then you forgot about it. But mine was jumping almost as much as my pussy. And seemed just as interested in what was going on.
"I don't know if it's that way with everybody. I mean, if the asshole gets into the act with everybody. I kind of think it does. Or am I some kind of kook? I mean, am I mixed up physically?
"Anyway, my little asshole was working almost as much as my pussy. Only I don't think it got wet, the way my pussy did. My pussy was really opening up and spouting juices. I know it was getting the head of Fred's prick all wet. Or maybe he was spouting juices, too. I guess he was, because later, when I wasn't quite so scarey excited, I could notice.
"Fred worked one hand down my stomach, sliding it over my pubes. See, I do know the words, I've read up on it since. Then one finger teased at my pussy, sliding along and almost going in, just enough to touch my clitoris. That was really exciting, when his finger teased my clitoris. I jumped away from him at first and then right back, snuggling close, and wiggling so his prick would rub on my pussy, too.
"I still wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next. I mean, I knew we were going to screw, but just what screwing was I wasn't quite sure. I knew a boy's prick went in you and something glorious happened-and maybe you got a baby. That would be awful, getting a baby by your own brother! The very idea sort of shook me. I mean, really shook me, even physically. I actually shivered and shook.
"Fred said, 'What's the matter, kid? Am I hurting you?' and I told him, 'No, I just don't want to get a baby. Please don't give me a baby!'
"So Fred held me real close, ramming his prick between my legs and touching my pussy. He held on to one breast and with his free hand teased at my clitoris, until I was shivery and shaking, still pressed up tight against him. 'It's too late to stop now, towhead! You've got me all worked up. And you, too. We both want it bad!'
"I don't know what made me say it. I don't think I'd ever heard of it, even. Not then. 'Couldn't you go in-behind?'
"Fred stopped feeling my breast and my clitoris, like he froze for a minute. 'In your asshole? Would you like it there?'
"I didn't know whether I would or not but I said, 'Yes! Oh, yes!' because I know you didn't get babies that way. I knew that much. And I wiggled my ass against his prick, rubbing it hard against his pelvis. 'Go in that way. Please! Please! Now!'
"Fred drew his prick back and it was all wet and slippery. So it should have been easy for him to go in. Like a grease enema, only bigger. I didn't realize how much bigger until he began to slip it in, pushing hard against my asshole and pulling at my buttocks to make it easier. I was helping, spreading my cheeks as wide as I could and feeling that big head of his prick push against my asshole. It hurt.
"And then his head slid in. I could feel it go right in, and feel my asshole close over it. It was exciting, terribly exciting. Especially when he slid his hand back over my pussy and started playing with my clit again, getting his finger wet with my juices. At first I sort of pulled away from him, but with his arm around me, holding one breast and the other over my leg, reaching for my pussy, I couldn't pull far. Anyway, I suddenly wanted his prick all the way in.
"I kind of backed up suddenly, feeling his prick slide in, deeper and deeper, like maybe it would poke out my front. Only of course it didn't. I could feel each little movement as it slid in. And I helped, pushing back, so Fred could sink it even deeper.
"It felt awfully hot inside my asshole and kind of dry, almost like he'd shoved a piece of broomstick up me. And then somehow it all got wet. I don't know if I wet or Fred did. But something lubricated my insides and made everything smooth and wonderful. And I wasn't worried about maybe I'd get a baby, so I could just sort of gave myself up to enjoying his prick in my asshole and his fingers playing with my pussy and my nipples.
"He was moving very carefully at first, sort of waiting, I guess, to see if I was hurting. Well, I was. A little. My asshole seemed to be stretched bigger than I'd ever known it, and the ramming back and forth was making it get hotter and hotter. My pussy was getting hotter, too, and spouting juices like crazy. And my nipples ached with the excitement of being teased and caressed.
"I could feel his hot stomach up against my back and his pelvis bumping into the cheeks of my ass, while his prick was ramming deep inside me. I could make my asshole squeeze down, too. Fred liked that. He kept saying, 'Do it again! Do it again!'
"I wiggled my hips so I got in a sort of rotary motion that made his prick seem to twirl up in my anus. I could feel every inch of it, way up, it seemed, in my belly. I don't think he really went that far but it seemed so, then. And all sorts of hot and exciting things were happening up in my pussy. Things got tighter and tighter up there, responding to his finger and the drive up my asshole. And juices were flowing.
"Fred suddenly grabbed me very tight and pulled me back against his stomach, almost clawing at my breasts and ramming hard with his pelvis. And about that time I let go, way up in my pussy. Far up. Like boom! And then a lot of little booms! At the same time I could feel the sudden pulse and stab of his prick.
"My little asshole could feel stuff pulsing through and something going on inside me, like a big hot gusher. All in one big thrust And then Fred let me go. I mean, his arms sort of went slack and he slumped against my back. My asshole could feel his prick beginning to deflate, only my asshole was squeezing down tight, as if it wanted to get some more. It couldn't. Fred was through.
"So was I, really, except I kept getting these shivery shakes every time his prick would deflate a little more, until finally it slipped out. He kept his hand over my pussy, though, and he must have felt it pulsing, too. Until finally it subsided.
"We lay there, spoon-fashion, for a long time, just enjoying the warmth of our bodies and the slow ebb of our excitement. I knew I had been screwed and wouldn't get a baby, which was wonderful. Wonderful! Maybe it wasn't the regular way to screw but it was very satisfying. Really wonderful.
"Yes, really wonderful. I lay there, backed up against Fred, my back to his front and letting the warmth seep between us until everything felt cozy and good. I think I dozed off a couple of times and maybe Fred did, too, it was so good and easy.
"Of course, my little behind ached-but not so much-and it was wet from Fred's juices, so it was sort of slippery. I mean, I could move, and move the cheeks of my ass and feel the wet. And backed up against Fred's front, I could feel his pecker, sort of wilted now, but already beginning to revive and start pulsing a little.
"Fred tried to pull back when he realized his pecker was still active and tapping at my behind. But I liked it. It felt good, tapping away at my little asshole.
"So I kind of squoze back on it, pushing my asshole right up against it. Easy. Not really starting things, just-enjoying. And Fred's pecker was really getting back into business, getting stiff and big, and his bulb punching pretty steady at my behind.
"I wiggled around a little, until the bulb of his pecker was right up against my little asshole. I caught his hands and held them tight over my bubbies, because they were beginning to feel things happening, and my nipples were getting hard.
"Fred played with my nipples, 'biting' them between two of his fingers and 'chewing' on them, which made everything very, very exciting. So I pushed back harder with my asshole against his pecker. I could feel his bulb slide into my asshole, much easier and less painful than that first time, even though my little behind ached some from that first asshole fucking.
"I was sort of geared to it, now, and could really enjoy each movement. I mean, I sort of knew what to expect and could anticipate the fun, and work my asshole with a kind of rhythmic 'chewing' that really sent Fred up the wall. He moaned and kept saying, 'Don't, kid, don't We mustn't, Eloise!' and things like that. And all the time his pecker was drilling farther and farther up my asshole.
"His hands started working in time to his pecker, too, squeezing down on my bubbies and finger-chewing my nipples till I was squirming with the joy of it, the wonderful sensations that were going all up my front, from my little cunt to my throat-and even up in my head, which seemed to feel awfully light, like a balloon, and yet be heavy, too, as if I couldn't lift it.
"Inside it was light, almost giddy. Like it was a vacuum. But my real head, I mean the bone and muscle part, was heavy, so heavy I couldn't lift it off the pillow and Fred's arm.
"I think I felt more this time than I had the first. I mean, I recognized things I was too excited to notice. Like I could feel Fred's pubic hair rubbing against the cheeks of my ass. And the pressure of his legs on the backs of mine. Especially when he let go of one bubbie and ran his hand along the inside of my thigh and up to my cunt, playing with my clitoris.
"I guess that was the most exciting moment of all, when he played with my clitoris and his big rod slammed hard up my asshole. And I was coming in my cunt and wriggling my behind and 'chewing' with my sphincter muscle on his pecker.
"And everything happened at once. My juices swelled and gushed way up my cunt, wetting all the way down to my pussy and even dribbling on my leg and the bed. Fred fired a big salvo of juices up my asshole-way, way upand all the lights whirled, and drums beat inside me.
"And we both had an orgasm. Yes, I know the right words. Like I say, I looked them up. We both 'shot off-Fred up my asshole and me way up my cunt.
"And collasped-just sort of sagging against each other and breathing shallow until we could get back to something near normal in breathing.
As Eloise has admitted in the telling of her case, she "had a pretty good upbringing." It was probably a better and stricter upbringing than Eloise cares to admit to. Her fear of pregnancy as she has stated, is probably more of a fear that the pregnancy would reveal her as a sex pot-thinking in her terms. This revelation of her proclivities to her parents was to be avoided at all costs.
It is worthy of noting that, in her effort to conceal her sexual activities from her parents, Eloise selected the one sexual partner most clearly prohibited in the Judeo-Christian ethic. She chose incest, with her brother as her partner.
From her statements it was clearly her own choice-that is to say, she deliberately seduced her older brother. She has attempted to mitigate the offense by practicing with him only anal fornication.
"I had liked it as an experiment and I had evermore enjoyed it as a rerun. Plus, I didn't have to worry about having a baby. Yes, I figured I'd stick with asshole fucking-anal coitus, if you want to get textbookish. For a long time.
"And drifted off to sleep thinking about it as Fred's pecker slid slowly out of my asshole."
Manfred S. Guttmacher, in Sex Offenses, notes that a number of forms of "connections," variations on a theme of coitus, are extremely common. "In many individuals these are the normal components of sexual foreplay and they are often indulged in sporadically by quite normal individuals as an end in themselves." His book includes the admonition against letting any highly specialized form of sex, such as anal coitus, become the dominant feature of a sexual relationship since it can produce trauma and guilt complexes.
Just such appears to have happened to Eloise. Anal coitus has become, for her, a double transference. She ignores the incestuous relationship in explaining so carefully the "benefits" of anal coitus. She will enjoy all the sexual delights while suffering none of the possible penalties: i.e. pregnancy and attendant exposure.
Yet, from her own words, she is not enjoying the full extent of sexual gratification through anal coitus. This becomes obvious in her constant references to her vagina and its reactions to anal coitus. Throughout her account of her sexual experiences runs a faint but detectable thread of dissatisfaction with the anal coitus.
Undoubtedly, Eloise did receive considerable sexual gratification from anal coitus. The ilioiguinal tract has close neural ties with the vaginal-urinal tract. Stimulation of the anal tract will almost invariably trigger responses in the vaginal tract that will induce a reaction very similar to completion of the heterogenital coitus.
Sexual gratification through heterogenital coitus varies considerably with the individuals involved and, in the same individuals, will vary in intensity from act to act. So it becomes manifestly impossible for one like Eloise, who has never yet know heterogenital coitus, to make a clear evaluation of her own reactions.
In the case of Eloise, the incidence of incest and her deliberate and apparently conscious burying of this aspect of her sexual relations has compounded a problem for her. This becomes double transference-with incest secreted deep in the act of anal coitus. Either incest or anal coitus would by itself present a difficult problem for a young girl to surmount. The combination, buried in her subconscious, will be extremely difficult to bring to the surface, even though she professes to be interested in ridding herself of the anal coitus obsession.
There is, we believe, nothing immoral or even improper in heterosexual anal coitus. It is, with many married couples, a variant on their regular sexual practices simply for the pleasure of the variation. With others, heterosexual anal coitus is a means of circumventing the problems of a wife's period.
Henry David Aiken, of Brandeis University points to another reason for a complete casting aside of the normal restraint placed on this generation by our social mores, which would prohibit intercourse of any kind with a brother. He maintains that this generation faces "the most extreme of all predicaments that has ever confronted man." The hydrogen and atomic bombs, he says, are a "constant potential for instant extinction of the human race." The possibility, he concludes, makes it tempting to disregard our social mores and "strive today for intensity of experience."
Eloise practiced anal coitus with her brother because she was not constrained on the incest element of her sexual relations, which could be attributed to what Aiken considers "striving today for intensity of experience." However, it would seem that she negates much of Aiken's theories by carefully selecting a method of sex-anal coitus-that would not produce future problems. Of course, it can be argued that Eloise was quite within the scope of Aiken's theories in that she did not wish to produce another generation to suffer under the threat of the bomb. However, she does not indicate this in her story.
What she does portray is a girl suffering from two conditions that exist. The act of heterosexual anal coitus had become an obsession with her and the fact that her initial practices were with her brother, Fred, created serious and extremely deep-rooted guilt complexes over the incestuous nature of the relationship.
The fact that Eloise painstakingly avoids any reference to the incestuousness of the relationship indicates the depths to which the brother-sister relationship is buried. So basic an ethic of the Judeo-Christian precepts, under which Fred and Eloise were brought up, cannot be so willfully flaunted without producing the very guilts Eloise felt she was hiding.
The fact that she later switched from her brother as sexual partner to a number of other young men with whom she had anal coitus may be a step toward rationalizing her incestuous relationship with her brother. In this way she may well be able to reject the guilt complex of incestuous relationship. Eloise will then be one major step on the road to emotional recovery from her now prolonged sessions of heterosexual anal coitus.
The very fact that she appears to be making the effort to reject the incestuous relationship in her continuing relationships with other young men-even though she may make no overt statements regarding it-may work her emotional state around to the point where she will no longer be obsessed by the desire for heterosexual anal coitus. Hence, the prognosis for Eloise is that she will, sometime in the near future, make a complete and voluntary volte face on her attitude toward heterosexual anal coitus. Her constant references to her desire for a baby and "regular sex" is obviously part of this drive toward elimination of the anal coitus obsession.
The probability is that once she has made the conversion, anal coitus will become abhorrent to her, at least for a long period of adjustment. In this second half of her statement we can trace the gradual shift of emphasis from incest to a general sexual life-style.
"I think the most satisfactory thing about getting screwed in the asshole is that you don't have to be afraid of getting a baby. You don't depend on a condom working or maybe the pill being effective. You just know you can't get a baby, so you just let go. And have a wonderful time.
"Maybe it isn't as wonderful as getting screwed in the pussy. I don't know. I've never tried that. I want to. I want to get married and get screwed in the pussy and have a baby. I think that's why I am talking all this out. To get it out of my system, so I can get married and get screwed in the regular way. And maybe get a baby. I think I'd like to have a baby.
"Only right now I like getting screwed in the asshole. I mean, I really like it. And I've had enough experience to know I like it. Is that crazy? Is it perversion? I guess it is, or I wouldn't be here, trying to clear it up, would I?
"Fred got me started on anal screwing. Or I got him to get me on it, however you want to put it. And I've been on that kick a long time, now.
"You know what I missed in that first screwing Fred gave me? Not seeing. I mean, I didn't see anything happening. I guess I had sort of daydreamed of one day, or one night, some guy coming along and screwing me. I could picture it so clear-except for details. I mean, then I didn't know the details. And then this asshole screwing with Fred sort of all happened behind my back. And I didn't see anything happening.
"Fred wasn't nearly so ready to try it again as I was. Not that he was chicken, really, but he said he felt guilty. When boys get noble they could be a real pain in the ass-not the kind I wanted.
"I had to tease Fred into screwing me again. I guess I could have gotten some other boys to screw me. Plenty of them seemed to like to make passes, but they all wanted to fuck the regular way. At least, they all pawed around my little cunt and tried to get into my panties that way.
"Oh, it was exciting. I almost came a couple of times, just from boys playing with my little pussy, sliding their hands up under my panties and playing around with the lips of my cunt and tickling my clit. They played with my bubbles, too. The nipples would get hard and that would stir things up inside and I'd come out with juices, my little cunt getting hot and wet. But I never let any of them get into it. Not all the way. I mean, like sitting in a boy's lap while he finger-fucks me. And while I can feel his pecker getting big and trying to bust out of his pants, rubbing up against my little cunt. And all the time his other hand is playing with my bubbies, until I am nearly ready to faint with the excitement of it all.
"I guess I got a reputation for being an awful tease, letting the boys play like that and then not screwing. But I just couldn't. Getting a baby seemed the most awful thing that could happen.
"So I teased Fred into screwing me. I kept letting him see me getting undressed-very accidental, so as to make it exciting. Then I'd scrooch up next to him when we had the TV on and tug his hand around so he was feeling my pussy, whether he really wanted to or not. Oh, he wanted to, all right. I could feel him get hot and squirmy, and the way he'd play with my pussy meant he really was interested. But noble.
"Until one night when Mother and Father had gone to town for a show and dinner again and we had the house practically to ourselves. So I teased him some while we watched TVsome dumb old war movie-and he got really excited and started playing with my bubbies. I knew I had him hooked then.
"So, even before the movie was over we went upstairs to bed. I sneaked into his room and he was already laying on the bed breathing heavy, his pajamas poking way up where his pecker was already stiff and waiting. I told him what I wanted. I wanted him to screw me dog-fashion, with me kneeling on the bed and him coming at me from the rear. That way I could see what was happening and it would be more exciting.
But first of all, we played. I had never really had a chance to play with Fred's pecker, like to hold it, I mean, and fondle his balls. His pecker was a lot bigger and shinier that I had realized. And it was fun to play with, to slide my hand up and down that shaft and watch the head get shinier and dribble wet. And Fred was moaning and writhing and ready to stick his ole pecker in me right then-only I still wanted to play. I wanted him playing with my bubbies and squeezing my hard little nipples.
"He was good at that. And his hand could work down along my cunt and slide a finger in and out, tickling my clit and making my little pussy spout juices till they were dribbling right down the crack of my ass. That felt specially good, because it was getting my little asshole wet and ready for action.
"I could reach down and touch his big pecker and grab it and slide my hand along its big shaft and watch the purplish-red head pulse and spout drops of juices. Every now and then Fred would lean over and run his tongue across my bubbies, circling each nipple and teasing it in and out with his tongue till my chest got so tight I could hardly breathe.
"And all the time my little asshole was working, like it was chewing on something that wasn't there yet. Fred's prick wasn't in my asshole yet, but it soon would be. I flopped over on the bed and got up on my hands and knees, dog-fashion. By that time Fred was really moaning, eager to stick his pecker in my rear.
"He crawled up on me, holding on to me by my bubbies, his hard, stiff prick knocking at the cheeks of my ass. I could look down my front, right between my legs and see his ramrod pushing at me, and his balls hanging and swinging. I backed up on his prick a little and it stopped slapping at the cheeks of my ass and settled down, aimed right in my asshole. Not in yet, but resting and twitching right at the lips.
"By ducking my head a little I could almost look up my cunt, then on up toward my asshole with his big, slippery pecker pushing there. I balanced a little on one elbow and reached down, so I could stroke his pecker and play with his balls, because seeing it all and feeling it and touching it made it all the more exciting. It all gave my pussy an exciting ache that needed to let go, or I'd bust. Only I knew it wouldn't let loose until Fred rammed his pecker deep up my asshole and we rode out the excitement together.
"I wriggled a bit, bucking backwards so Fred's pecker would slide inside my butt. The head went in, leaving that beautiful long shaft and those balls hanging down. With my free hand I could just reach his shaft and balls, trying to tease them deeper into me. By peering down between my legs, I could see the whole thing, watching his shaft bury itself inch by inch. Oh, I could feel it all right, but seeing made it all the more wonderful.
"Fred backed off a little and I lost some of his shaft. Then I backed up, too, and rammed it home. This time, right up to his balls, so they were hanging down and knocking against my cunt. Fred let go of one of my bubbies and started tickling the lips of my Cant. That drove me more wild. I wriggled and squirmed and clamped my asshole down on his shaft, like I'd chew it to pieces. Fred yelped and grabbed my hips and rammed his pecker as far up as he could. Then he sort of fell on me and we both collapsed on the bed, with his shaft buried deep in me and working like a big piston.
"I could buck a little, too, in spite of Fred's weight. So we were really going to town, with both of us humping and my asshole chewing on his prick. It was so exciting I didn't even miss not seeing it anymore.
"Then his shaft seemed to swell in my hole and pulse with the juices he was pumping into me. And I was working my little asshole to suck for more. It all seemed to well up at once, until my chest felt as if it would burst. Then I let go, too, with a sort of half whoop, half sigh and just-quit.
"I couldn't move another muscle. I just flattended out under Fred and lay there, his hot stomach pressing me deep into the bed, his hips slowing to a halt while they seemed to push me deeper into the mattress. It didn't seem I'd ever get strength enough to lift Fred off my back so I could breathe again, but, after a moment, he rolled off, pulling his limp pecker out of my asshole.
"That almost made me come again, just feeling it pull out. I had never had it so wonderful.
It didn't seem that it could ever be that wonderful again, but I knew it would. I knew, now that Fred had broken down for the second time, that I could have all the asshole fucking I could use.
"It didn't turn out quite that way because we didn't have too many opportunities before Fred got called up for the draft and went off to camp. He couldn't get leave for six weeks and when he did, all his old friends had so many things for him to do that we never really got much chance to be together. Not that it mattered so much. I mean, I liked having Fred bugger my asshole because he was sort of convenient, being at home. Just the same, I found some pretty good substitutes.
"Like I said, a lot of the boys had been feeling me up and getting pretty randy about my not letting them go all the way. There were a couple I liked pretty well, George and Al. They both knew how to feel a girl up and get her real excited and both of 'em had pretty big peckers. I know. I'd felt 'em when they got a hard on from feeling me up.
"I had a date with George for a dance up at the club. He drove me up in his dad's car-and started putting his hand on my leg almost as soon as we were in the car. I didn't try to stop him. Fact is, I even slid around on the seat a little so's he could reach my cunt easier. So by the time we were almost at the dance, George was pretty hot. By the dash of light I could see his pecker was swelling way up. I even slid my hand over on it and George pretty near wrecked the car. 'Don't do that, Eloise, unless you mean it!'
"I tried to tell him then. 'I do mean it, George. Honest I do. Only, I'm scared of getting a baby. If you'd be willing to do it my way-in my behind-I'll let you.'
"So we never got to the dance. Not that I minded, because I learned some new ways of screwing in the asshole that are just as exciting as anything Fred and I did.
"George found a place he knew where we wouldn't be noticed, and we climbed over in the back seat. I let George feel me up for a while, until we were both breathing heavy. Then I reached down and rubbed his pecker, feeling it grow and grow until it was as big as Fred's, or maybe a shade bigger.
"George unzipped his pants and his pecker stood up, shiny and hard looking even in the moonlight. I had slid out of my panties by this time and my cunt was already wet with juices that were beginning to run down the crack of my ass. I wasn't sure how we were going to work this, in the back seat of a car, but George pulled me around, facing him on his lap, with my feet on the seat on either side of him. That cocked my knees up and put my little cunt right up against his prick.
"We sat like that for a few minutes, just letting his prick rub up against my cunt. George wanted to go right in my little cunt, and he begged me to let him, but I wouldn't. Finally he slid my ass up, half lifting me, and set my asshole down right on his prick. I kept from squealing and held off his going in right then by pushing against the seat.
"Then the head of his pecker slid in and my little asshole wrapped itself right around him. And we were asshole fucking! It was a wonderful position because I could push with my feet and hold him off or slide down on him as deep as I wanted to go. And he could hump up a little and ram his prick far up my ass. He had an awful long shaft; it went deeper in me than Fred's had ever gone and started things happening way up my behind.
"And happening in my cunt. My little cunt was squirting juices that ran clear down to my asshole, and that made things slicker and easier and more fun. George would tickle my cunt and tease my clit, making more juices flow and making things get awful tight and exciting in the tit department. Once in a while George would slide a hand up my dress and play with my bubbies, and once he slid my dress all the way up and started sucking on my nipples, first one, then the other, until I almost screamed with the excitement.
And then I did scream, because George's prick exploded way up my ass, deep in me, and that triggered all kinds of things into happening, in my cunt and tits and up my whole insides.
"It was glorious! Marvelous! Better than anything Fred had ever done. Mostly I guess, because of the position, where I could see what was happening and even help control how deep he could go, but mostly I think it was the fact that, sitting in his lap like that forced my little ol' asshole deep down on his pecker and pushed his pecker way up inside me. Plus, of course, there was room for lots of action, lots of movement.
"That wasn't the last time George and I had some good sessions of asshole fucking, always in that same position, which seemed to fit so perfectly. We didn't always do it in a car, either. I mean, George's folks had a cottage up on the lake and we'd go up there and asshole fuck, sitting in a chair. Even in a big wooden rocker. That was fine.
"After I learned how I could handle George for strictly asshole fucking, I started going with Al, who was almost as good and maybe his prick was a shade longer. And then some of the other boys would take me out. I had to make it clear I wasn't going to let anybody in my little cunt, but I would take 'em in my asshole.
"Now I can get all the asshole fucking I want, once the boys understand. I am just scared to death I'd get a baby. Something would go wrong, like the pill wouldn't work or a condom would break. I couldn't have that happen. Not until I'm married.
"Maybe soon I'll get married. So I figure I'd better start finding a way to unhook myself from asshole fucking. It's good, all right. It's wonderful! Only maybe getting screwed the regular way is even better, not that I can see how it could be, but lots of people recommend it. Maybe I'll like it. Maybe I'll even like having a baby."
CHAPTER TWO
Alice ... Gang Rape
"I guess I was a little sexy that night. I mean, I was sort of showing off my cute little drum majorette uniform, which was on the skimpy side. I sort of stuck out in places where the uniform wasn't. Actually, my breasts poked out and up just a bit too much for comfort. And my little fanny filled out all the cloth there was to fill out-and shook when I walked.
"All right, so I twitched my fanny a little, prancing up and down in front of the malt shop, after we'd beat Hoover High. Just feeling cocky, because I felt the cheerleaders and drum majorettes had helped to win. Anyway, we had put on quite a show at the half. And all through the game, for that matter.
"So I felt like prancing. I got out of the car and was strutting to imaginary music, picking my knees up high and flipping my brief little skirt, the way we had at the half. Only this time making it a little sexier, mostly, I think, because the boys were kind of sore.
"Boys are lots more conservative than girls in some ways. Or maybe I mean conventional. Anyhow, the three I was with didn't like me strutting up and down in front of the malt shop but the two other girls thought I was cute and kept egging me on. Lots of the high school crowd were there; some inside, at the tables, and some outside in cars. I knew most of 'em, being a drum majorette and cheerleader. And most of 'em knew me. So I was getting calls from all over to 'strut my stuff after that victory over Hoover.
"There were some of the motorcycle crowd there, too, but off to the side-and mostly sitting on their bikes and sneering at the kids still going to school. Like dropouts were something special and going to school was gooney. Only they weren't sneering at me strutting my stuff. They were grinning at me and nodding and raising their coke glasses at me, like saluting. So maybe I did put on a couple of extra flour ishes when I got to their end of the parking lot, like wiggling my little behind and stepping a little higher, so my breasts would bounce a bit more.
"Hal didn't like my strutting. Not a bit. He was my date, sort of. I mean, the three of us girls, Ruth and Abbie and me, always sort of went out with Hal and Benny and Logan, to dances and school outings and movies. And Hal was just 'sort of my special friend. We weren't even really going steady, and hadn't got around to sex yet. Lots of the kids were trying it out but our particular bunch hadn't. I don't know why, except that we managed to have so much fun doing other things, and our parents were such good scouts about parties and camp-outs and ski trips and things that we just never seemed to feel the need for sex.
"Except, of course, we liked a little heavy necking and petting and feeling up. But the boys weren't really serious about it, and Ruth and Abbie and me had made it clear: so far and no farther. So that's all it had been necking.
"But Hal suddenly got bossy, like maybe he owned me, and ordered me back into the car so we could go home. I guess he could see the effect my brief little panties and skimpy top was having on the motorcycle gang and some of the other, older boys. Only I wasn't going to be bossed. I just strutted faster and wiggled a bit wilder.
"Hal got out of the car and tried to make me get in, pulling at me. That made me sore. I mean, him acting like that, right out in front of the school crowd and all, like maybe he had some claim on me. So I pulled away and told him he could go home without me. I could get my own ride.
"I could have, too. I mean, there were lots of our crowd there and anybody would take me by the house if I asked. But then one of the motorcycle crowd came over and said, kind of tough, to Hal: 'The lady says leave her alone. She can get her own ride home. So she's got it. On my bike. If she's not scared.'
"I was scared. I mean, I hadn't meant to start an argument. And I was scared of bikes. I had ridden a couple of times on my older brother Jim's bike but I hadn't liked it. Still, Hal had made me mad, acting like he owned me. So I pulled away and said, very loftily, 'This gentleman will see me home.' And walked over with the motorcycle crowd, even if I didn't like 'em very much.
"The bike boy-I later learned his name was Bruce-glared at Hal, like he dared him to start something, and laughed pretty nasty. Then Hal went back to his car. I was really hoping Hal would tell me to be sensible and come back to the car. I would have gone with him. I was ready to, except Bruce practically swung me onto his bike and jumped on, starting it all in one motion.
"He gave some sort of call to the others in the motorcycle gang and they all wheeled out of the parking lot together, with Bruce and me in the lead. I looked back just in time to see Hal scramble into his car and start backing out, trying to follow us. Only the motorcycles swept out and were tearing down the street before Hal could turn his car around.
"I could see Bruce wasn't going in the right direction for my house. I tried to tell him, but he either didn't hear on account of the wind or-as I know now-he never intended to take me home. Instead, he took me far out in the country. I tried to jump off but he speeded up so fast I didn't dare jump. I wish I had.
"He stopped in front of a sort of barn, and the other motorcycle guys pulled up on either side. I tried to scramble off and run but one guy stuck out his foot and tripped me. And laughed. I think the laughing scared me more than anything. Even when I tried to scramble up, another guy kicked me hard on my behind and laughed when I went face down in the grass.
"Then two-of those bike riders grabbed me and hustled me inside the barn-only it was more like a repair shop, with parts of bikes all around. And cots. Several cots. They threw me on one cot and Bruce came to stand over me. 'You gonna strip yourself outa that costume or do it the hard way-with me helping?'
"He didn't give me a chance to answer, just reached out and grabbed my top and yanked. It came away and I was naked to the waist, with my breasts bare and shaking, because I was crying and trying not to.
"Bruce reached over and squeezed one breast so hard I yelped. It hurt. And he laughed. Then two boys grabbed my arms and pulled me back on the cot while two more ripped my little bitty pants off. I tried to kick them, but they just laughed and twisted my legs until I almost screamed.
"Bruce sort of gave orders to the others and they held me, spraddle-legged on the cot, while Bruce pulled his pants down. I could see his pecker, hanging down but getting stiff and rising, until it was almost straight up, and purplish red and shiny. And dripping juices. I could see all this and couldn't quite believe it. Things like this didn't happen. Not in our crowd. Not to girls like me.
"I'd never even seen a boy's-well, Bruce was almost grown, so say, man's-pecker full-size and stiff, and coming right at my little cunt.
"The boys that were holding my arms each grabbed one tit and started squeezing, and the ones holding my legs started rubbing along the inside of my thighs. In spite of trying not to scream and being so scared, I knew my little cunt was getting wet and opening up.
"Bruce walked in, between my legs, aiming his big prick right at my cunt and laughing. 'See, she likes it. Look at her box, opening up. Yeah, man, she's really gonna like this.'
"And he rammed his prick right at my cunt. I screamed and squirmed and tried to move aside but the boys holding my legs were strong. And one of the others slapped my face so hard I saw stars. And felt the pain of Bruce sticking his big prick into me. Hard. And pushing. So the pain shot all the way up me.
"I could see his prick, buried in my hole, and feel it, like a big baseball bat sliding up inside me. Then he was working back and forth, rubbing that big prick up inside me. It hurt something awful and at the same time was awfully exciting. And Bruce was sweating and laughing like crazy and pumping back and forth until I could feel his prick swell even bigger and start to pulse. Suddenly he rammed it against my cunt so hard I could feel his balls banging my behind. And held it, squirting his juices way up me, in great hot spurts.
"He stood there, twisting and grunting and wriggling, driving his prick as deep as it would go, and moaning. Then he seemed to deflate and sag. His prick went down, too, and started sliding out.
"I figured it was all over and they'd let me go. Only they didn't. Each of the other boys stuck his prick in me. Or I think so. I think all of them did. I don't really remember after the first two or three. The pain was so great I fainted. Only I'd sort of half wake up and there'd be another boy banging his prick into me. Even the two Bruce had left on guard.
"And then Bruce again.
"It was while Bruce was banging me that I heard the scream. I'd been screaming so much I thought it was me I was hearing. But it wasn't, this time. It was one of the boys.
"My older brother had come. He's a marine. And he had a couple or three marine buddies with him.
"Bruce was still screwing me when my brother came charging in. Jim just swooped over on Bruce, raised both hands above his head and came down with a judo chop. I understand he broke both collarbones. Bruce screamed and tried to turn. Jim caught him one right under the chin and snapped his head back.
"I guess I fainted about then. I don't remember much of the fight. Not that it was so much of a fight. Jim and his buddies just mopped up the place. Those motorcycle boys were tough, but a commando-trained marine is a lot tougher.
I heard that Bruce was so badly beaten he screamed for mercy-and then ran outside and tried to get away on his motorcycle. Only, with his face beat to a pulp and his arms not working, on account of the broken collarbones, he couldn't handle the bike. So he went right off the mountain and was killed.
"Jim and his buddies were taking the others apart-so I heard-when the police came. Hal had called my brother and then the police, and since one of the boys-Benny, I think, knew where the gang's headquarters was and told Jim, Jim got there ahead of the cops. And the ambulance.
"I don't remember the ambulance or the ride to the hospital or anything for maybe a week or so. And I'd wake up screaming. Not from pain. I think they gave me things for the pain, but not for forgetting the awful things that had happened to me.
"Then, months later, there was the trial. First the state tried Jim and his buddies for manslaughter. And I had to go all through that awful night again, describing it for the court, so that Jim could go free. Oh, he went free-and I think the judge would have given him a medal if it had been allowed.
"Then I had to go all through it a second time at the trial of the motorcycle gang. Except they had all got haircuts and shaved off their sideburns, trying to look respectable and clean cut. It didn't work. And they all went to the penitentiary for different periods. I didn't understand that, because each of them had screwed me. Only they all tried to lay it on Bruce, who was dead. Especially the kidnaping part.
"I went away after that, to a girl's school. My family wanted me to forget. Only, I couldn't forget. And I didn't forget in college, when I went there. The nightmares were just as bad, only I'd learned not to scream.
"I couldn't go out with boys. I just couldn't bear the idea of one of 'em touching me. And yet there were times when I wanted sex. I mean, I wanted it so bad it actually hurt me, inside. I could feel all the want and hunger but the very idea of anything like that happening to me made me feel ill, churning me up, inside."
"I hadn't seen Jim since the trials, mostly because he'd gone back to the service, while I was off at that girls' school and college. It wasn't that we avoided each other or that my family didn't want me to see Jim because it might remind me of that awful night. It just happened we didn't connect.
"Then Jim was out of service and staying in a town near the college, so I went over one weekend to see him. I was shocked. Jim looked haggard. Like worn and thin. He was lying on the bed in his room, just staring at the ceiling. He barely greeted me.
"I asked him what was wrong. He told me.
"'I'm a murderer, kid. I killed that man just as sure as if I'd wrung his neck. Saying it was justified doesn't make it any less murder. It just means that if something got me angry enough-like what happened to you-I could kill again. Not that I am trying to excuse it, or put anything off on you, kid.'
"It seems Jim wouldn't go out with girls. He honestly couldn't bring himself to go out with 'em or think about screwing them. Or even getting married, because that meant screwing. And that meant remembering why he'd killed a man. Yet he was hungry for a girl. He really needed one. I mean he needed one to sleep with, so he could release some tensions and maybe learn to be whole again.
"We talked about it until late that night. About him needing a girl and me being hungry for sex and yet scared to screw.
"We really needed each other. But how? And then it occurred to me. I couldn't think of a guy going in my little cunt again-but there was another hole. My asshole.
"It could help us both to readjust. Jim wouldn't hear of it, when I first suggested it. In fact, he was sort of horrified. Boys are lots bigger prudes than girls in some ways. It could be the answer to both our problems. So why not?
"It took some persuasion. I even did a sort of striptease to break him down. And I did, finally. I was there, stark-naked, shaking a little, because I wasn't altogether sure I could take it, without going crackers. And Jim was looking at me, hungry like, and groaning.
"I had to help him off with his trousers and pull down his underpants. But he was getting a hard on by then. His prick looked enormous-like a baseball bat with a big purple-reddish knob. I was sure, now that I'd started this, that I'd never get that big prick in my little asshole.
"Jim had some vaseline and I worked that around my asshole and then threw myself on the bed, facedown, waiting.
"Jim was very gentle. He caressed my back and then slid his hands around to tease my breasts and fondle my nipples, so I was getting more interested in sex and less scared of what was going to happen.
"My little cunt was filling up with juices and starting to quiver when I felt Jim slide his prick between my legs, under my asshole and rubbing against my cunt. It was so different from the way it had happened the first time that I could really relax and let the waves of heat and flashes of sex shoot through me, relaxing my legs until they just fell apart.
"Jim slid his prick right up to my asshole and sort of hung there, poised, waiting, I guess, for me to give some sort of signal I was ready. So I humped up and felt the head of his prick slide in, and felt my little asshole grab hungrily at it.
"Then Jim eased his prick on in, being very careful to wait and see if he was hurting me. He wasn't. It suddenly felt glorious. All that big prick sliding up my asshole, starting all sorts of excitement inside me! Marvelous! And I wasn't afraid. I mean, I didn't feel like screaming or anything, except maybe for sheer pleasure.
"Then his prick slid all the way in, so deep I could feel his balls thumping between my legs, right up against my cunt. And my little twat that was chewing at them. And we were asshole fucking, in a kind of ragged rhythm that soon settled down into a real smooth, red-hot get together, with all kinds of wonderful things happening way up inside me. Most of it because Jim's big ol' prick was pulsing away far up my asshole.
"I hadn't known asshole fucking could be so wonderful. I had just sort of meant it as a kind of exercise for me and Jim, to get rid of some of our inhibitions. Only it turned out wonderful. I hadn't even known there were places up my asshole that could feel so strongly and cause my juices to flow so freely.
"And when Jim shot off, ramming his prick hard against me, I could feel my own juices let go. And all sorts of exciting things happened inside me. Even when his prick was sort of deflating and sliding out of my asshole, I could feel excitement and deep, deep contentment. Yes, in one evening, I had got rid of a lot of inhibitions-just through asshole fucking. I loved it."
Alice obviously had a happy childhood, though she does not specifically mention it. The milieu was that of an upper middle class family where education to college level was the norm. The interfamily relationships were good, tied with both affection and intelligence. Her youthful sex experiences with boys were, as she puts it, strictly so far and no farther. Petting, necking and even "feeling up" were permissible. Actual sex was not.
That made her rape experience all the more traumatic. She was virgo intacta. This would normally call for slow, careful and considerate treatment on the part of a male before his penis would be acceptable to her vagina, before her physiological preparation for sex would be complete.
Instead, her rape was violent, sudden, completely without physiological preparation. Her sex organs were undoubtedly severely damaged. Though she does not mention it in her account of the affair, probably because it all had extremely painful and traumatic associations, her family obtained for her the best medical attention. Neither does she mention any permanent physiological damage, therefore we can assume that the medical care was not only adequate but probably of top quality.
There must have been physical scars in and around her vagina after such violence, but not conspicuous. They could not begin to compare with the emotional scars etched into her mind by the brutal, ignorant violence of the rape.
She mentions that she does not recall how many of the motorcyclists had intercourse with her that night. This is probably a statement of her emotions rather than actual fact. Except for moments of excessive pain, which could have caused momentary blackouts or lapses of consciousness, she was probably dimly and horrifiedly aware of what was happening to her body.
She resolutely refused to recall it after the event and during the necessary testimony at the two trials. This suppression put it out of her conscious mind but buried it deeper in her subconscious, apparently for a number of years, through the completion of high school (at a girls' school) and at least part way through college.
These were the formative years of Alice from girlhood into womanhood, a time during which she should have been free to grow emotionally; a time during which her body and her emotions should have developed in unison, as a preparation for eventual marriage and parenthood.
This normal cycle was broken. Her emotions and reactions were stopped by the trauma of the rape while her body continued to develop. Fortunately, with her family background of education and intelligent use of her faculties, Alice herself recognized her condition and was able to evaluate it.
Although she could intelligently evaluate her situation, recognizing that the trauma existed, even down to its cause, she could not find a suitable solution. Being a normal young female of nubile conformation, she had the right to expect sex and to be prepared to enjoy it. Without the intervention of rape and the trauma it created, Alice would undoubtedly have found her normal emotional level and relationship with the opposite sex. Statistically, by the time she was well into her college years, she would have found an outlet for her biological urges. Whether the liaison would have been legal is not a question for the psychologist, except as the lack of legality might have produced a guilt complex.
Here we find a girl of considerable intelligence with her emotional life warped by the traumatic experience of rape (and the subsequent trials testimony). She sought a solution to her problem-and found it in an incestuous anal relationship with her older brother, James, who had killed (more or less accidentally) one of the rapists. For him, too, there was a trauma, the realization that he could, in a rage, strike to kill. Haunted by this spectre, James avoided what he considered possible sources of emotional involvement which could lead to the same degree of rage and therefore possibly to the violence that could lead to killing.
He was undoubtedly overreacting, not so much to his guilt in killing the rapist as in being too late to save his sister from rape. These were twin guilts he had to live with. He lived with them through withdrawal.
The anal coitus with his sister, the rape victim, did present some form of release for James' guilt complexes. One factor in his release was undoubtedly the fact that his sister, the actual rape victim (because he was late) was the seducer in the anal coitus.
The Rasmussen-Bender-Blau study of 65 female children who had sexual intercourse with adults concluded that by no means all were the helpless victims but played an active and even initiating role in their delinquency. "They might even be considered the seducers rather than the seduced."
Certainly this was the case with Alice. She was the instigator and the aggressor throughout. And apparently a rather persuasive seducer. She managed to convince James that the act would release her from her trauma. In this she was correct. By making anal coitus a substitute, as we shall see.
In her statement Alice professes to believe that continued heterosexual anal coitus with men other than her brother will eventually lead her back to normality. The prognosis is that this method alone is un-likely to produce the results she hopes for, but the act indicates a willingness on her part to seek a psychiatric adjustment that may well mean a reasonably complete cure.
"Somehow, sleeping with Jim and letting him screw me in the asshole didn't seem like incest. I guess maybe it was but it seemed more like a sort of therapy, a kind of mutual helpfulness. I can't say it helped Jim. Not right away. He felt so guilty about screwing me, even in the asshole, that for a while he was more tied up in knots than before. But he relaxed, and got so he could sleep nights.
"He told me that the next weekend I came to see him. But he didn't want to screw me again. I had to persuade him that I needed that kind of treatment because I was more up-tight than he was. After I persuaded him, we did it spoonfashion. I slid out of my clothes and lay down naked beside him. He shucked his clothes, too, and we lay there, both of us a little nervous but getting pretty hungry for sex.
"Jim lay beside me, hands tucked under his head as if he wasn't quite sure how to use them. And he wouldn't look at me. Just stared at the ceiling.
"I had a real cute figure by then. My breasts weren't very large. I mean, they weren't fat and bouncy but they were nicely shaped and there was enough of them for a good handhold. My little ass that had been kind of outsized and really wiggly when I was a kid had slimmed down to nice rounded buttocks, shading down into long tapering legs. And my stomach was nice; not absolutely flat but with some interesting curves and hollows.
"Jim was built well, too. He had broad shoulders and strong-looking arms. His chest was broad and thick, with not much hair-just a sort of masculine-looking mat right between his nipples, like a toupee that had slipped. His stomach was almost flat, with strong ridges of muscle that rippled sometimes when he talked. He had sturdy-looking legs, with plenty of muscle and quite a bit of hair. And his pecker! Well, I tried to keep my eyes off it at first. It was lying across one leg, limp, but still pretty good size.
"We lay there, both of us naked, both of us wanting sex, and yet like a couple of innocents who didn't know quite what to do. I know Jim wasn't innocent. He'd been a marine too long. Not that I'm saying all marines run around screwing everything that's got a hole, but marines do get around. And they learn about sex pretty early, if they don't already know.
"Jim must have known about sex when he rushed in to rescue me from that motorcycle gang, even if killing that guy who was screwing me did sort of give me inhibitions later.
"So there we were, two kids, really, wanting but not knowing quite how to go about it. And maybe a little ashamed, too. I kind of broke through things by reaching for Jim's pecker, just stroking it a little, and feeling it jump and start to get stiff. I really wanted to know about peckers. I mean, most girls learn about men's pricks the first time they get laid-if it's-any real kind of screwing that's fun for both. But I hadn't had time to learn. I just got a prick stuck in me even before I was ready. And then another and then another. Just learning the pain and not the pleasure of screwing.
"Now I could really see a man's prick and feel it and know all about it before it went stabbing into me. What's more, I could really enjoy looking and feeling because I knew it wasn't going to be jammed in my little cunt and maybe tear me up inside, the way I had been torn up.
"Jim's prick was big and getting bigger as I fondled it. The head got big, shiny, too, and started to dribble sticky juices. Jim eased up some then and dropped his arms, so that one fell across my breasts, and his hand was teasing my nipple. He dropped the other hand across my leg and started running his hand up my thigh, which felt pretty good. I mean, I was getting sort of wound up, tighter and tighter. Only, when his hand got near my little cunt, I started to flinch and shake a little. Jim pulled his hand away quick and moved over to stroking my stomach, which felt wonderful.
"And I kept playing with his prick until it was really stiff and up almost tight again his stomach. Next I ran my fingers through the stiff, curly hairs around his prick and fondled his balls-until both of us were moaning with the want of sex. Then I rolled over on my side, with my back to Jim, and he rolled up to me, sliding his arms around me so he could fondle my breasts and play with my nipples. His chest and stomach at first felt cold against my back, and then they got hot-or both of us got hot together. It was a real warm and lazy feeling, yet very exciting, too.
"I could feel his prick against the cheeks of my ass, moving just a bit, sliding up and down. I wiggled a little, to get closer, so I could really feel it rubbing against me. It seemed awful long, extending up the crack of my butt to my spine. And I was conscious of every inch of it, it felt so good. And I was a little worried, too. I wasn't sure I could take all that prick up my asshole. Then I remembered. I already had taken it once. And it had felt good.
"I guess girls are sort of expandable inside, built so they can take a pretty good-sized prick. Maybe, if I had been coaxed into sex that first time, with lots of preliminaries and feeling-up, my little cunt wouldn't have been so hurt and would have been opened up and ready.
"Now Jim was teasing my asshole with the head of his prick. It was wet and already spurting juices, so I knew I wasn't going to need vaseline this time. Jim would have enough lubrication for me. He slid his prick down the crack of my ass and then shot it between my legs, so that the bulb of it was right up against my cunt. That was a shock, sort of. And I held my breath.
"But my little cunt responded. It didn't dry up and blow away or anything dramatic. It was just getting its juices ready, so that the head of Jim's prick slid over it and back and forth. I couldn't stand having Jim's hand reach down and touch my cunt, but somehow, having his prick slide back and forth, made it exciting.
"I wriggled back against Jim, feeling the heat of his stomach and of his prick and legs. He tightened his arms around me and moved his hands over my breasts and nipples until they were hard and standing up. Once in a while he'd squeeze a nipple and let it spurt between his fingers, like a miniature screw.
"He leaned forward and kissed me on the neck, running his tongue along the artery that pulsed and shook just under my ear. Once he bent almost around me, kissing at my throat and playing with my breasts. I wanted him to kiss my breasts and run his tongue around my nipples but I didn't want to take his prick from between the cheeks of my ass. So I just pressed his hands tighter down on my breasts and moved and wriggled a little to get more feel to it.
"That wriggling also added more feel to where his prick was rubbing between my legs. The feeling got so intense and exciting I drew away and let the head of his prick slide right up against my asshole. Then I pushed back.
"I could feel the muscle of my asshole getting stretched and yet not hurting, because the excitement was so wonderful. And I felt the head of his prick slide right inside and then felt my asshole close a little on the shaft. It was just like I was visualizing what was happening, only I was actually feeling it.
"Jim drove his shaft slowly up my asshole, moving in and out a little, so that the head of his prick was rubbing the sides of my asshole way up inside. And starting some very, very exciting things happening. I know most of them were happening up in my cunt. I mean, I knew it in my head, but all my feelings seemed to be in my asshole. And Jim's prick rubbing and thrusting and going deeper each time made the breathless excitement grow and grow inside me.
"I got into rhythm with Jim and we humped together so that his prick was thrusting way up and rubbing along the sides, starting more juices flowing. Suddenly Jim was still, his prick drawn almost to the head from my asshole. He went rigid, and shuddered, and then, with a moan, drove his prick so hard and far up my asshole I could feel his balls bounce against the cheeks of my ass. Far up inside me I could feel the head of his prick pulse and swell and start shooting hot come juices into me.
"And my juices responded, so that we came almost together, in an exciting, breathless moment of utter stillness.
"Then Jim relaxed, slowly, his arms first, falling away from my breasts, then his stomach, rolling slightly away from my back, and finally his prick, deflated and wet, slid out of my asshole. And I relaxed, too, just lying limp, letting waves of feelings wash over me and enjoying every one of them.
"Finally I turned over and smiled at Jim and he grinned back. 'We're good for each other, kid. At least, you're good for me.'
"I nodded. 'And you're good for me, Jim. Wonderful.'
"So we lay there, just completely at ease, and stark naked, sort of exploring each other with our eyes. Every now and then Jim would reach over and touch one of my breasts or slide his hand gently down my side and across my stomach. And I would reach over and stroke his prick, which was still wet with juices and a little sticky.
"So presently we were both keyed up again and ready for another asshole screw. Only this time I wanted to see more of what went on-and I wanted Jim to be able to touch my breasts with his tongue. So I played with his prick until it was big and stiff again, and then I told him I wanted to try it with him lying on his back, with me squatting down on his prick.
That way I could watch and Jim could reach my breasts.
"I rolled over and sat up on Jim's legs and slid up on him until I could feel his prick rubbing at my asshole. Jim reached up and fondled my breasts and played with my nipples. Once he sat up and held me close while he sucked at my nipples and teased them with his tongue, making me very excited there.
While he was sucking at my nipples, I raised up and wriggled around until I had his prick knocking right at my asshole. His prick was big, but I spread my legs and that spread my asshole, or anyhow the muscles. Then I slid down on his shaft, feeling the head slip in and then the rest, until I was sitting on his hips with his whole prick way up inside me.
Best of all, I had been able to see everything that went on-from the moment the big, purplish head of his prick first nudged my asshole, spouting enough juices to lubricate it. And I watched while the head slid in, and while his shaft went deeper and deeper.
"Jim could wiggle my little ass by swivelling my hips with his hands, only mostly he played with my breasts and teased my nipples. And I could ride up and down on his shaft at any tempo I wanted, sort of feeling my way to the highest excitement. He would hump up and down a little, enough to put maybe a little extra drive in his shaft and push it deeper into me. Then we got into a nice rhythm with gradually speeding tempo until I was bouncing up and down on his shaft, feeling it pulse way up deep inside me.
"Finally Jim grabbed my hips and pulled me down real hard on his hips, moaning and gasping while he rammed upward. We held that for a breathless moment and I felt him shooting off his hot load far up me. And that triggered my come, so that I was writhing and moaning, too, then just falling limp, sagging into Jim's arms and letting his prick slide out of my asshole, still shooting hot juices.
"Jim eased me down beside him and held me in his arms while I shuddered with the subsiding excitement in me. I think I even cried a little, but from the release of old tensions, not from hurt. Jim cuddled me up against him and we fell asleep that way, naked and at peace.
"I woke up still wrapped in Jim's arms, feeling the wonderful warmth of his body close against mine and the soft rhythm of his breathing. And there was his prick lying limp across one leg while one hand cupped my breast even in his sleep. He woke slowly, a little surprised and then grinning at me, as I fondled his prick. Of course that started things all over again and we had another good fuck and a nice long rest before we got up for Sunday brunch.
"We took a long, lazy shower together first, soaping each other's bodies all over. I didn't even flinch when Jim put his hand between my legs and soaped around my pubic mound and little cunt. It even felt good. And I soaped his prick and balls, very gently, and all over him, while he was soaping and touching my breasts. When he washed off the soap he kissed them and patted my fanny-which was, frankly, just a little bit tender from three asshole fuckings that morning.
"But the best part was letting him touch my cunt and my not flinching. I figured then I might be cured of the nightmares of that awful evening, when all those boys-men, reallyraped me in that barn.
"I found I could even think about them without hating, without choking up and getting sick at the stomach. It was as if I could take out pictures and look at those young brutes raping me without even much feeling.
"I mean, without feeling revulsion.
"Sometimes I could almost recreate the sensations-even the feeling that my little cunt was being actually ripped apart-and the hot stab of a man's prick being brutally rammed up my cunt, so far I could feel the balls banging against my behind.
"It didn't hurt so much, now that I have found out about anal coitus-asshole fucking.
The memories may even be serving to clear up my hang-up.
"Like I can now even recall the bulb on the pecker of one of the boys who raped me. It was bluish gray and then got very reddish purple, with juices dripping from it, just before he slammed it into my cunt.
"I can remember the way the cot or whatever-because I think that somewhere in there they moved me over to a table or bench-sort of cut into my behind, while the boys rammed their pricks, one after the other, up my little cunt.
"I have always thought my cunt went numb-I mean, I didn't remember feeling anything, really, except pain. I could remember pain. But now that I was coming unstuck from this hang-up I began remembering other things. I could remember, for instance, the excitement in my body as one of the bulbs slid farther and farther up my cunt: I think that was from one of the slow fuckers. Or maybe he was just a little gentler.
"And then there were my breasts. I didn't, for a long time, remember having any feeling in them at all during the rape. I kept thinking of my body as just being beaten and abused-hurting-but not how it felt. Now I could analyze it.
"My breasts had responded. They swelled. I remember one of the boys saying, 'She likes it! See, her titties are swelling.' Only they weren't swelling because I liked it. At least not consciously. I guess a female's body can be stimulated into functioning, even if she doesn't want it to.
"I know that, now that I could look back on it without complete revulsion, I could recall the swelling of my breasts and the hardening of my nipples. I even remember that one of the boys flicked them with his fingernail, making them sting and hurt. But mostly they just sort of reacted, and stirred things up inside, so that I was wiggling my little butt and lifting my pelvis to meet the thrust of those pricks.
"Oh, I don't remember doing it every time. I don't know that I did do it with each boy. I suspect I didn't. But I do recall highlights, when I did respond. And did thrust back with my pelvis, making the boy's pecker go deeper-and I even remember whimpering about itnot from hurt but from excitement. And I even remember feeling ashamed I let those brutes see that my body did enjoy being fucked.
"There was all the pain-not from being screwed so much as from being beaten. Those boys were real brutes. I mean, in the brutish, animal sense. They didn't care what happened to me. I was just 'meat' to them-something on which they could vent their animal lusts.
"I was slapped around, even struck with fists, and I think with ropes. Or whips. Or maybe even tire chains. I know somewhere along the line someone hit me with a tire chain. Across the stomach and along my shoulders.
"When they got me to the hospital there were so many bruises and lacerations they didn't count 'em. Not that they keep any kind of record of the number of bruises at the hospital. Or I wouldn't think so. I think the police had somebody photograph my body. I do remember seeing pictures at the trial and even wondering then, while I still hurt, how I managed to live through it.
"Those boys-they weren't boys and they couldn't really be called men, even if they did stand on their hind legs and were able to ride motorcycles and even make noises like talking-held me across a table. Bent me across it, really, with my behind on the edge and my legs over the side.
"Two of them held my arms and two were under the table hanging onto my legs, bending them back until I screamed. Until the skin and flesh of my legs were drawn taut and my stomach was stretched. I know they pounded on my stomach once in a while, like on a bongo drum, and howled to the rhythm. They were worse than savages because they had had the opportunity to be human and hadn't quite made it.
"While they held me bent over the edge of the table, with the edge cutting into my behind, one of them would stalk up and stand between my legs, grinning down at me, and saying, 'Okay, miss prissy pants, see how you like a real one in you.' And he'd grab his pecker and push the reddish purple bulb at me. Waggle it at me. And then slam it into me. Hard. So that I'd arch up. And one of those holding my arms would slap my stomach and push me down.
"And the one fucking me would just stand there and pump his prick into me, driving it hard every time, until he would explode way up inside me. And I couldn't hide the fact that I felt it. I'd moan or maybe yell. And those brutes would hoot with laughter. And twist my arms or pull harder on my legs.
"They wanted to hurt. I think they wanted to hurt more than they wanted sex. Sex, with them, was just an excuse to hurt. And they particularly liked it with-well, with someone they felt had a better education and place in life. They were dirtying me-and, as one of them said, 'peeing on the whole fucking bunch.'
"That was before Jim and his buddies broke in, of course. After that they were just concerned with saving their skins.
"This asshole fucking with Jim had freed me from a lot of that horror, even let me remember a lot of the details that really were better lost. Nevertheless, I think it did do me good, being able to look back on and consider the various parts of it, item by item, so that I can get it in perspective and into a real relationship to me, instead of just a conglomerate of horrors, a tangled mass of inchoate fears and memories.
"Now I am beginning to straighten it out, to separate pain from excitement, horror from the inevitable tensions. But still, for a while, I want to stick to asshole fucking, so I'll have a chance to get used to the idea of men using my body again. I know now I can go out with men-and even do some pretty heavy necking that will lead to asshole fucking. That's all I want, for right now. Anything else can come later.
"I think my asshole fucking affair with Jim saved me from going lesbian, not that I felt any particular desire to go that route, but I think my body had recovered from the shocks of abuse and wanted to be used. I was once more ready for sex, and I suppose I could have gone the lesbian route, just out of frustrated desire. And if I had gone that way, I doubt if I'd ever have come back to genuine, normal sex, as I think I can now.
"It has helped Jim, too. He is going out with girls again. Sometimes I feel just a little twinge of jealousy-or maybe it's envy-for the girls who have Jim now. But I only need to remember that I had him first-just as he had me first, in a way. And we did help each other.
"So, growing up and even marrying is going to be lots easier for me now. All from those wonderful sessions of asshole fucking with Jim. And a whole new world of sex it opened-no, reopened-for me."
CHAPTER THREE
Rita ... Figures Don't Lay
"I was always a skinny kid, with the nickname 'Slats.' For a girl, that can be poison, a nickname like that. But worse than being skinny, I was tall for my age. I towered over most all of the other school kids.
"This was especially embarrassing for me with the boys. What junior high kid, who is maybe a five-footer if you stretched things a bit, wants to take out a girl who is getting up around five-five and has to stand twice in the same spot to make a shadow?
"And the older boys weren't interested, either. I was too skinny to have a figure, which was what the high school crowd looked at, mostly. It was 'Does she have bubbies?' and I didn't. Oh, I had something under my tee shirt but not enough even to have my mom get me a training bra. What I needed was something to train.
"And it wasn't because I went on kook diets, like some of the 'puppy-fat' girls. It didn't seem to make any difference what I ate, or how much, it all turned into stick-straight lines, none of it to interesting contours.
"I was pretty enough. I had a very nice complexion-and that drove the other girls wild because so many of 'em had ugly pimples-and nice, thick, wavy hair and a reasonable assortment of features. People always said, 'Oh, but she has beautiful eyes,' as if that made up for not having any figure-or any boyfriends.
"I guess I could have had dates with some of the basketball players who wouldn't have to stretch to look up at this walking Eiffel Tower, only most of them seemed to prefer the cute, cuddly little girls. There was one boy I could have gone around with, a sort of neighbor. I mean, he lived over on the next block and was awfully tall and skinny. And awkward! That guy couldn't walk by a lamp post without butting into it. He seemed to fall all over those suitcase feet of his.
"At least I wasn't gawky-oh, not after I was twelve or so. About the time I had knees like apples swallowed by a snake. But later, like around fourteen, I had nice-looking legs, if anybody had bothered to look. I mean, really look. Most people just sort of glanced-boys especially-and saw all that length and told themselves 'Toothpicks!' and didn't seem to notice I really did have cute legs.
"Oh, I guess I could have dated some of the creeps, especially the kind that take a girl down for a soda and then expect to get a piece of tail on the way home. Them and the creepiecrawlers-the kind that sort of start reaching even before the soda. So who needs boys that bad?
"It was when I was a senior in high school-about seventeen going on eighteen-that anybody really noticed I had a figure. He was the 'official' photographer of the yearbook, a guy who shot around our county and maybe other parts of the state, setting up mass picture shooting for the various high school and local college yearbook.
"Jake was the photographer's name, a little round, bouncy sort of guy with a big shock of hair and staring pop eyes. He looked sort of like a frog and even blinked like one-you know, slow and kind of thoughtful, as if maybe he was digesting what he saw. That was Jake.
Those slow-blinking eyes saw everything. And he got most of it on film.
"Some of the girls said he made them feel squishy-and undressed. But that was only because he was looking at them that way. I mean, like they were undressed and he had to paint 'em on film with clothes on. As he told me later, he saw 'underlying structure.'
"He shot some pictures of me, too. You know, the stock type. Head and shoulders-and the girls hoping their bosoms would show up. Then, after he'd shot the regular pictures for the yearbook, Jake asked me if I'd mind if he took some 'figure shots.'
"At first I was kind of shocked, thinking he was maybe a dirty old man-though he wasn't really old-who wanted to take pictures of me naked. Only that wasn't it. He got in all sorts of poses: windblown hair, with dress plastered against my front; leg art, me sitting on a fence with lots of leg showing; fashion stuff, me strutting on what was supposed to be a runway but actually was an old chemical lab table. That was where he was shooting, in the old chemical lab.
"When Jake came back with the proofs for the senior class, he was real excited about the picture he'd shot of me. He showed me the lot and some of them were really good. I mean, Jake really could do good photography. He made me look good, like something in a real sleek woman's magazine. In fact, that's what Jake wanted me to do, pose for magazine pictures. 'High fashion,' he called it, and said I could get rich at it. He even came over to talk to mom about my going to New York and making pictures for fashion magazines.
"Mom was kind of dubious, but even she could see Jake had done some swell shots of me. And they really did look 'high fashion.' Jake told her he had some friends in New York who'd look after me and even gave me an address of a hotel for girls where I could stay.
"There was a catch to it. I would have to go to modeling school for three months and then have lots of pictures made-at my own expense. Jake said he could get a friend there to do that part cheap. So I was sure mom would say 'No!' loud and clear. But she didn't. She just looked thoughtful and studied me and then the pictures, then me again. Finally she nodded and said: 'I have almost a thousand dollars saved up for your college. If you really want to go.
"Did I want to go! Oh, did I! This was the first time I'd been noticed as a female-and here it looked like I might even get to look glamorous. Did I want to try? You bet I did.
"It wasn't as easy as it sounds, or as Jake made it sound, though he did help with getting me enrolled in a good modeling school-not one of the clip-joint kind-and got me set up for a room at this girls' hotel-only it was really a big boarding house. And a thousand dollars doesn't last long in New York. I had to ask mom for more and she sent a hundred, saying that was all there was. When that was gone-if I hadn't gotten a job-come home.
"Jake came to New York then-buying some new lab equipment, he said, and to see me. I was his protege, sort of, and he said he wanted to be sure I was getting the breaks. He took me out to dinner, which was a lot better than at the girls' boarding house where most of 'em were on a strict slimming diet, which I don't need.
"I almost cried on Jake's shoulder, like he was an older brother, telling him about how I'd have to quit when this last hundred was gone. He looked kind of funny. 'Do you really want to stay on and try for this glamour stuff?' He kind of sighed when I told him, 'More than anything! Why, I'd do anything! Anything!'
"Then Jake came right out with it. 'Would you screw?' I had to think that over. With the kind of skinny kid I'd been, I hadn't even been propositioned. I never had to make up my mind whether I would or wouldn't. Finally I shook my head. 'I couldn't, Jake. I'd be too scared of getting pregnant. And that sure would put the kibosh on everything!'
"Jake was sweating, heavy. 'If I could show you a way-absolutely positive-that you wouldn't get pregnant, then would you?'
"I told him, 'I know about the pill and about rhythm methods and condoms-but none of 'em is safe for sure. Not absolutely.' And I was actually getting a little hot in the pants, just with the idea of getting screwed.
"Jake shook his head. 'This way is abso-posilutely 100-percent sure. And I know guys would pay plenty for it. Up your behind.'
"For me, 'Up your behind' was just a sort of expression that kind of meant 'To hell wit yez!' So I didn't get it, not at first. Not till Jake explained. He really meant, get screwed in the asshole. Literally 'up your behind'!
"I hadn't even known you could. I mean what's the point? That's not where sex is. That's up front. But Jake said you could get a real bang out of screwing in the asshole. And by then my own little asshole was sort of working into the act, getting hot and twitching. So maybe he was right. Or anyhow, not altogether wrong.
"Jake said he'd give me a hundred-this was to start me off and help me get to be a glamorous fashion model-if I'd try it with him.
Well, it was sort of like screwing your own brother. I mean, that's the way I felt about Jake-like he was an older brother. No emotional entanglements. Maybe that was a good way to learn about sex-with no emotional entanglements.
"Anyway, up in Jake's hotel room I began to feel funny. I mean, I never really meant to get this involved. And I was nervous. I couldn't even unbutton my dress. Jake had to do it for me. And he undressed me the rest of the way. So there I was, naked, in a man's room-and he was going to screw me in the asshole. For one hundred dollars. I kind of huddled until Jake said, 'Don't do that! You've got a beautiful body. Be proud of it!' And he was looking at me just like he looked at other subjects he was going to photograph.
"He walked around me, nodding, frowning a little and blinking his eyes in that slow, froggy way. I guess that was just the treatment I needed because I did stand up and, as Jake walked around looking at me, I did sort of take pride in having a beautiful body. Also, I began to get excited all over again. My cunt was quivering and even starting to flow juices, though I knew I wasn't going to get screwed there. And my asshole twitched and itched a little.
"Then Jake was slipping out of his clothes. I had never seen a man naked but, of course, I knew-kind of-what a man looked like, around his privates. There are books with pictures that show naked men. Only they don't show them the way I saw Jake, with his prick all stiff and swollen and reddish with a big, shiny bulb dripping juices, he didn't have a bad figure. I mean, hopping around fixing lights and all with clothes on, he looked kind of like a gnome, small and maybe wizened. Undressed, he wasn't like that, just short and stocky, with big trunk-like legs, a little hairy, maybe, and real strong arms.
"And that prick. Jeee-zus, it looked enormous! And wicked! Not evil, just-wicked. And aimed right at me. I almost wilted then, but Jake came over and put an arm around me. That stopped my shivering. Then he sort of turned me, almost like in a slow sort of dance, till my back was to him and his big prick was rubbing the cheeks of my ass. And I was really getting hot. With my little asshole twitching and squeezing even before he got in.
"Jake slid down in a chair and pulled me down into his lap, spreading my legs outside his. His prick slid up the crack of my ass and stuck out in front, like a purplish red eye winking at me from down by my cunt. He was rocking back and forth in the chair, making his prick ride up and down the crack of my ass and even tickling my cunt a little.
"His arms were around me, cupping my tits and fondling my nipples, which had gotten as hard as his prick. Then he was sliding his hands up and down my sides and along my thighs. All the time he was teasing my nipples and working me up along my thighs, sliding his prick back until the throbbing head was rammed up against my little asshole-which was gobbling back at it, all ready to take it and eat it up. Jake said he had some vaseline, but we didn't need it, because my cunt was flowing juices that ran down my crack, right to my asshole, and my asshole was also turning out something soft and wet. And so was Jake's prick.
"He was being gentle, knowing this was my first time, but even so, feeling the big bulb of his slide into my asshole hurt a tiny bit. Then my asshole tightened around the shaft, making me draw a deep breath of pleasure. Jake sort of rubbed my tits and played with my nipples before he made any more moves. He even cupped one hand over my cunt and pumped a little, like drawing out more of my juices.
"And all the time he was easing his prick farther up my asshole. I could feel that big bulb sliding up my-tunnel, I guess you'd call it, because it seemed to go way up inside me. Then he rocked a little in the chair, pulling his prick down, so I could feel it better. I mean I could actually feel the sliding of his shaft up in me. And my asshole just choked down on it, the muscles seeming to do it on their own.
"I rocked a little, sort of experimentally, to see if I could get more motion in my asshole, more feeling of his shaft inside me. I could, and that made me flush hotly all over. I guess Jake could feel that flush where his hands cupped my tits, because he started pumping, too.
"We sort of collided the first few times and I grunted with the drive of his bulb so far up me, and the bang of his pelvis against the cheeks of my ass. Then we worked out a sort of rhythm, both of us rocking and getting all the motion and feeling. I was getting kind of out of breath and tight in the chest, like I wanted to yell. I really didn't, not right then.
"Later, when his bulb exploded hot juices way up me, I did let out a yelp and pumped like crazy to get more feeling in my asshole. I was learning to work that, too, in a sort of rhythm with him, milking his prick for all its wonderful hot juices.
"Jake let out a big sigh when he shot his load and let his hands drop from my tits. Then he just held on to my thighs, sort of shuddering and squeezing on them. I was feeling pretty ragged, too, what with the drained feeling up inside me-like maybe it was an orgasm. I couldn't tell, since nothing like that had happened before. It just felt good. Very good. And made me want to relax against Jake's chest and let him play with me while my body sort of climbed back into itself from wherever it had gone momentarily.
"We just sat like that for a long time, relaxing while Jake's prick, sort of deflated and limp, slid out of my asshole. Then he gathered me up and carried me over to the bed. He put me down gently on my side, and then climbed in beside me, his stomach against my back.
"We lay like that for a while, just enjoying being. Then Jake's prick started to quiver. It shivered a few times and then started to get hard-again. And it was poking at my asshole and sliding between my legs. 'We can do it spoon-fashion this time,' he said.
"I hadn't known we were going to do it again, but I didn't mind. I mean, I had already let Jake come in my asshole, so why get persnickety about a second time around. Besides, it really had been exciting. Not quite what a girl dreams about when she thinks of getting laid by her dream man, her prince charming, but it did have its moments.
"So there we were, laying spoon-fashion, which I had thought only girls did when they slept together, but I could see certain advantages with a man-his front to my back, his arms around me, his hands reaching for my breasts. And Jake was doing just that, fondling my breasts and teasing my nipples until they got hard again. And I was getting hot inside, my chest almost hurt with the tightness and both my cunt and my little asshole were working up a storm, like before.
"There were differences. Or maybe I was paying more attention this time to the different elements and not just to the thing as a whole, like I did the first time.
"For instance, this time I could actually feel his bulb flatten a little as he pushed it slowly up my little ole asshole. And I could feel my muscles back there close just a fraction over his bulb, to meet his shaft.
"I could feel his shaft slide in, almost bumping itself over my muscle and stirring up new excitement with every tiny little bump. Plus, my muscle back there was working all on its own, almost chewing at Jake's big ole shaft. And Jake was liking.
"Oh, yes, Jake was liking it. He may have been doing me a favor to get me the money so I could stay in New York for just a little longer, but he was enjoying it. He was really getting a boot out of screwing me in the ass, maybe because he'd looked at me and a helluva lot of other women down the lens of a camera and it was a relief and a real treat to get to bang one, particularly in the ass.
"Oh, I don't mean Jake had never had a woman before or that he went unhappy for wanting one. I expected he had done his share of laying the female populace all over the country. And maybe a bit more than his share. But this was somehow different.
"Or maybe I was just kidding myself. Maybe Jake was smart enough-and he was certainly smart-to con every girl he screwed into thinking she was something special. I guess some men have that knack-or they cultivate it. And they are the ones that get the most girls into a bed. Because they are smart enough to make her seem special.
"I know Jake had made me seem special right from the start. I mean, like you take a dumb high-school kid who was too tall and too skinny for any of the boys to look at and you suddenly tell her she's gorgeous, that she's not only gorgeous but she deserves to have the world know it, by being in all the big magazines. You can bet your last pair of nylons or the baby's teething ring it makes a girl feel special.
"Even so, I don't think Jake meant to get into my pants when he started telling me I should be a 'high fashion' model. Oh, no more than any guy would, talking big to any girl. I mean, I don't think Jake had an actual campaign of seduction mapped out when he started talking to me and then to mom about my going to New York and getting famous as a model.
"I honestly think he was just interested in discovering talent. Honestly, I do. Because he never made a pass the whole time. He never even hinted maybe I should screw if he could get me to being a big-time New York fashion model. Most guys I know would have thrown out a hint, anyway. But Jake didn't even say, 'Well, when we meet in New York, maybe you'll remember the guy who got you started, eh?' and wink lewd.
"And if it was just getting into my pant-seven by the back door-Jake needn't have offered the hundred bucks so I could stay another week or so, waiting for 'the big break.' I was so blue, I'd have gone to his room and undressed and laid on the bed and said, 'Screw me, Jake, screw me. And send me home to Podunk.' Not that I actually live in Podunk, if there is such a place, but it's an expression We have in New York meaning like-'Go back to the sticks, hicks.'
"But here was Jake, spending a hundred bucks of his hard-earned money-and believe you me, photographers earn their bucks, really earn 'em-to stick his prick into my behind, just so I could spend a little more time in New York and maybe get to be famous and glamorous. Maybe he was a klunk to do it, knowing he probably could'a had me just by asking. I was so grateful for what he'd already done. And I certainly hadn't figured on any financial help from him.
"Of course, if I was going to stay in New York and become a fashion model, I couldn't take the chance of screwing the regular way, where I might get a baby. But if I was headed back for the sticks-back to Podunk-I probably wouldn't have cared. And I might even have taken my chances on the baby, even if that isn't smart. But you've got to remember, I was feeling plenty blue about then. Broke, in a strange town-a bewildering town, really-and a career shot before it even started.
"Yeah, I think I might have let Jake screw me any way he wanted to take me. But that hundred dollars made it possible to stay in New York, so, of course, I had to think of my figure. And that meant taking no chances on getting a baby.
"So there I was, in bed with Jake, letting him ram his prick up my asshole-and I was liking. Especially this second time around, where I could sort things out. Mostly my feelings and reactions. I suppose I could have just laid there and let him ream me and not thought about emotions. They say some girls can. But I get involved.
"And I was involved now, feeling every little motion of Jake's shaft up my asshole, responding to his fingers playing with my nipples, and to his hand cupped over my pussy, and his finger beating a sort of tense rhythm in my cunt, right up against my clitoris.
"I bucked a little, but cautiously, to see if I could drive his shaft farther up my behind without shaking anything loose, because, right then, everything seemed pretty precarious, sort of right at a balance point.
"I guess it was, because right about then Jake gave a big grunt, or maybe an outsized sigh, and rammed his dong hard into me. At the same time he tickled my clitoris and triggered all sorts of wonderful things into happening.
"I could feel that ole shaft way up my behind starting to pulse and swell as something went right on up it, like mercury up a thermometer-and BOOOOOOM! Out at the top! Hot juices splattering all around in my insides, and fireworks going off down in my stomach and behind my eys. It was glorious. Magnificent! Wonderful! And even better that that, if there are words that go up that high. Only I don't."
Rita's early frustrations over her ungainly height and "slat" figure are reflected in her response to Jake's curious proposition. She accepted a proposition that should have been abhorrent to a young woman in her circumstances. Aside from the inducement of one hundred dollars, what motivated Rita into accepting anal coitus with her friend whom she regarded almost as a brother?
She had never had any sexual experience, not even the minor heterosexual contacts of high school necking parties. This, to a girl, is a deflating experience-or lack of experience. Since she was abnormally tall during her adolescence, she had some very tightly supressed neuroses about her personal being. She has even come to regard herself as a freak, fit only to associate with "creeps" as she calls them.
Since she is a naturally fastidious personas her emphasis on neatness and the minutiae know 'em. And anyway, they probably aren't really the kind of words for that kind of feeling, which is a series of big, quick booms and skyrockets and silent explosions-well, you get the idea I liked it. I did.
"And I had earned a hundred dollars, so I could stay in New York a little longer and maybe become a glamorous fashion model." of her bodily development indicate-she will not submit to these "creeps." Instead she finds a man who is a professional judge of feminine beauty, who finds her not only attractive but possibly even glamorous. This is definitely the Cinderella dream, the ugly duckling theme, brought to life in her personal experience.
That is extremely heady emotionalism for anyone to handle, let alone an adolescent girl who has, for most of her life, thought of herself a "gawky and awkward." The man who made all this possible offered Rita a way out at the precise psychological moment when the dream was about to fold for want of a little cash. He offered a form of sex-which she had never experienced-that promised no unfavorable results-i.e. pregnancy-and the chance to continue her budding career.
The two appeals overwhelmed Rita-an opportunity for sex and the chance to continue the career that could lift her out of her drab and uninteresting milieu into a future that appeared glamorous.
She accepted Jake's proposition and, probably because of long-suppressed desires, found heterosexual anal coitus a release of those suppressions. Because she had no experience for comparison, it was seemingly a complete sexual gratification.
Although Rita had suppressed desires be cause of her gawky youth when no one gave her sexual drives, even scant interest, she obviously does not suffer from what Sigmund Freud, in Three Contributions to Theory of Sex, postulates as psychic trauma, which must come from within. Therefore, both her response to any sexual arousal and especially to anal sexual arousal, and its gratification, is likely to be slight. And her future interest in it minimal.
As we shall see, Rita adapted readily to heterosexual anal coitus and found it a very satisfactory (substitute for) sex. The probability is that it was as satisfactory a sexual adaptation as Rita could make, given the background of her youth and adolsecence as an over-tall, extremely thin youngster-who could eat like a horse, as she admits.
Without more specific examination of her physique, hormones and glands, it is impossible to reach a final conclusion. However, it is apparent that she suffered some metabolic maladjustment or some glandular deficiency or hyperactivity, causing that excessive growth and exceptional thinness. The likelihood is that this carried with it a low reaction to sex.
Her experience with Wayne, the "high fashion" photographer, would seem to indicate that she was able to react to sex. However, it is only necessary to listen to her statement, to know that most of her alleged "response" is verbal.
To be sure, she experienced a certain amount of arousal and even achieved climax, but her own analysis of her emotions leaves the listener cold-as if Rita herself were quite cold and only mechanically responding to what she knows she should respond to. It would seem to be a learned response rather than a completely natural one.
It is quite possible that Jake's initial seduction, via anal coitus, had a more serious traumatic effect on her than even she realized. However, her physical makeup seems to play a large part in her acceptance of anal coitus and fellatio as a substitute for a more normal heterosexual relationship. She seems to have remotivated herself, possibly deliberately, toward money and success as goals in lieu of complete sexual gratification.
In all probability Rita will always remain sexually cold. Even though she has come forward for one psychiatric session, her expression of interest in normal sex is so slight as to be negligible. She is un-likely to make further effort.
"Jake was pretty nice to me that night. We had a couple of more sessions up my hind end, only one of which was any real excitement for me. Jake seemed to get a big boot out of fucking me in the ass, though, and he paid off-one hundred dollars. That was a life-saver, because it meant I could stay on in New York a little while longer and be that much closer to a glamour career as a fashion model. But, of course, I would need pictures. Lots of pictures.
"Jake introduced me to this 'high fashion' photographer who does shots for the slick magazines and for big advertising accounts. Wayne was as thin and wiry as Jake was stout and bouncy. And he had that way of looking at you, as if he could see you without clothes. Maybe right down to the bones.
"Wayne also had a very fancy studio, all plush front and a real workshop in the back, with a whole storeroom full of props and even a wind machine so he could get outdoor effects. He said most of the clients liked real outdoor shots better, but this wasn't always practical, since summer clothes were usually designed and photographed in early winter, and winter clothes came out in late May or June. That was so the magazines could make their picture selection and do their layouts and get plates made and so on in time for the actual season.
"Wayne got some late season outfits for me, stuff that was over the line and either too late or too early for the big slick magazine blasts. And he started taking photos of me whenever I was free from the modeling school and he had some free time.
"'Look, kid, you have to meet my schedule,' he told me. 'For now, anyhow. I'm not doing this for free but it's so near free I can't spend regular studio time on these shots. However, because you're a friend of Jake's and he believes you've got that certain something that makes good high fashion models, I'm taking the short end of this risk. I happen to see something good in you. If you really want to, you can make it in this rat race. But you've got to want to, so hard you'll do anything to get there. And one of the things is, right now, you work on my schedule. Which is gonna be some very odd hours. Game?'
"Fashion photographs by Wayne for my portfolio could mean a real boost into big time. So I said, 'Yup. With me, anything goes.'
"Wayne looked at me, kind of funny and grinned. 'Okay. So it starts at ten-thirty Wednesday. Night, that is. The studio's jammed till then.'
"I got there just about ten-thirty Wednesday. The studio was set up for a moonlit balcony scene and a corner of a plush bedroom. When Wayne handed me that sheer nightgown, I had an idea of what was coming. We got through some shots on the balcony and a few of me flinging myself rapturously on the bed, as if in love with a mattress.
"Wayne came over to adjust the nightie to that look of perfect carelessness, and grinned down at me. "These shots usually run five hundred. For Jake, I made 'em for two hundred. They needn't cost you anything. Compree?'
"Of course I 'compreed.' Only too well. I sat up. 'Look, Wayne, I don't sleep around. So it'll have to be the two hundred.'
"Wayne looked me over so closely I was beginning to get hot, even in that sheer nightie. 'You don't mind going the backdoor route to success, do you?' So I knew Jake had let something slip. Maybe not deliberately, but it was out. Rita could be had. At least, the ante had gone up, from one hundred to two hundred. I was getting to be a real high-priced-call girl.
"So I shrugged. 'If it's only the back door.' I didn't really expect to feel anything, but Wayne knew how to get a girl worked up. And I mean, worked up. Before his hands had got done playing with that nightie and my tits and teasing my nipples, I was writhing on the bed, practically begging him to ream me in the ass with his prick-and I hadn't even seen it.
"I saw it then. Wayne slid out of his pants and underpants in one wriggle. His prick wasn't maybe as big around as Jake's but it seemed longer. And the head almost gleamed, like a ripe plum, already shiny with his juices.
"I couldn't resist reaching frr it. It stood so strong and erect, that big bulb of a head practically staring at me. And all the time my little asshole was working. And so was my cunt. But it was my asshole I was most interested in. It was chewing at air. Then Wayne slid a finger along the crack of my ass and tickled my asshole. It was something new, a real jolt that made me want to scream and ram his prick up deep.
"I rolled over on the bed, ass up, the cheeks working in a kind of rotary motion. Wayne pulled me toward the edge of the bed, so that my legs hung over the side. The stiff bed cover slithered over my tits and stomach, touching off new places for excitement. I had to crane around to watch, if I wanted to see Wayne slam his prick into me-and I did. Watching was a big part of the fun, the buildup to real excitement.
"Wayne knelt beside the bed, sliding up between my legs and knocking his prick against my asshole. Which promptly started chewing back. Then he slid his hands forward, under me, cupping my tits and playing with the stiffened nipples while he rocked back and forth, pushing at my asshole with the head of his prick, but not quite going through.
"The studio setting made it seem romantic, almost a honeymoon scene, so long as you didn't look toward the camera and blackout lights and see the gaunt, bare walls. But right there, in that corner of a bedroom, on a big, bouncy bed, it did seem honeymoonish. And I was going to get screwed! Soon!
"I sort of humped back into Wayne's prick and felt it slide almost in. But he pulled back, teasing my asshole with it, rubbing it around, moving it up and down. And his juices were wetting my asshole. I'm almost sure I was wetting my own asshole with my own juices, but maybe that was just my little cunt letting go. Anyway, I could feel things happening way up inside me, even before Wayne rammed his prick in and my asshole closed over the shaft, tightening. Yes, I was learning now how I could tighten it deliberately and get more feel from his shaft-and give more, as Wayne instructed.
"Wayne rode his shaft in in one slow drive-different from Jake's quick, short takes and back-ups. And it felt wonderful. I mean, I had to hold my breath while his shaft kept going in, deeper and deeper, with no letup. Just one long, slow, continuous motion. And he held me tight, so I couldn't move to start anything that might interrupt his long, slow drive.
"Then I could feel his balls hit the crack of my ass, falling almost over my little cunt. He held it like that for a long moment, tightly rammed into me. Then he began some short, quick drives that increased in tempo while his hands spread the cheeks of my ass, so he could go further in-and farther up.
"Way up inside I could feel the sliding of his big bulb until it seemed that my whole asshole, all the way up, was alive and eager. And then it happened. Wayne slammed into my ass, grinding his pelvis against my buttocks, half shouting, clutching at my hips and pulling me tighter to him. Oh, how I was twisting and turning on those stiff bedclothes, so starched for the photos, feeling them against my tits and stomach and thighs. And better than anything else, feeling the sudden swelling of his prick, the mass of his come shooting up his shaft and exploding far up inside me.
"He held on for a moment, shuddering, and then slid to the floor, dragging his prick from my asshole. And I collapsed, half kneeling, on the bed, shivering with the excitement and intensity of it.
"Wayne leaned his hot cheek against the cheek of my ass then and patted the other cheek with a shaking hand. 'Wonderful, kid! Wonderful! You'll go far in this crazy, mixed up profession of high fashion-where .half the guys in it aren't sure just which sex they are. And the women mostly haven't any sex-they're clothes racks. Yes, you've found the way. Bungholing! Gives you release from the crazy tensions of this crazy business and doesn't show up on the figure-like pregnancy. There are other ways, too, for fun and games, without getting involved in pregnancy. And I don't mean with the lace cuff boys. Since they only like each other, you won't be bothered by them.'
"He patted my ass and then hoisted himself up, standing over me. 'Yep, kid, you got the figure for it. And I think you can take the side issues.' He patted my fanny. 'Now don't go 'way. I'll be right back.'
"Don't go away? I could hardly move, I felt so drained-but good drained. Relaxed in one way but awfully keyed up in another. I could hear Wayne washing up and I waited, almost drowsily, for him to come back, knowing he was going to do something else-something sexy and exciting.
"Wayne came back, toweling himself and grinning at me, his body gleaming in the low moonlight effect. He wasn't good looking, but he had a powerful looking body, lean and muscled. Maybe his torso was a little long and his legs just a hair short for perfect proportions, but he had a good physique. It was kind of odd, because you don't think of a photographer as being well-built, and especially one in the 'high fashion' field.
"He stood beside the bed, near my head, so that I was looking right at his pelvis and his prick and balls. His prick still looked big and knotted with blue veins, but it was limp, or pretty near. 'Like looking at it, kid? Go ahead, grab it. Go on, reach for it!'
"It was almost like being hypnotized. I mean, I did reach for it, slowly and then in a rush, grabbing the shaft. Almost instantly I could feel it start to swell and stiffen.
"With his hands free now-he'd thrown aside the towel-he rolled me on my back and hauled me across the bed, toward him, till my head was hanging off the edge of the bed and I was looking right up at his cock, my hand wrapped around the shaft. And he was looking down my body, almost hungrily.
"He bent over me, touching his tongue to my tits. I could feel the nipples hardening and beginning to ache again. But I was fascinated by his cock, the bulb of it swelling and the shaft pulsing in my hand. He moved on down my body, sliding his tongue over my navel and setting all my muscles to quivering.
"Then he was down by my pubic mound, moving his tongue and his head, getting in a sort of double motion, sliding it along the crease between my legs and my pelvis.
"With my legs hanging off the other side of the bed the skin and muscles of stomach were stretched taut and my legs were tightening up. 'Open your mouth, kid, if you think you can take it.'
"I was sure I couldn't, but I wanted to. Everything in me quivered for it. And somehow it looked as if it would taste good. Like a big stick of candy. There was a big drop of his juice oozing out of the bulb. I reached up with my tongue and tasted it. Salty-male salty.
"Wayne moaned and moved closer, burying his face between my legs and running his tongue over the tightened skin of my thighs. And as he moved, the head of his prick slid into my mouth. Just barely in. And I could run my tongue over that great salty bulb. And smack my lips around it, while new excitements and new tensions ran up me, spreading from my cunt where Wayne was lightly caressing it with his tongue and then stabbing into it.
"Suddenly his prick slid deeper into me, going way down my throat, almost gagging me. Yet it felt good. Good. Wonderful! I moved my head a little, to catch my breath and felt him drive in again, until his balls banged into my nose. I had to reach up and hold them-gently-so I could breathe.
"His bulb and shaft were way down my throat, sliding in and out, massaging the inside of my gullet. He pulled it out momentarily, as if he sensed when I simply had to breathe, then drove it back again. And again. And again. I knew he was getting ready to come. I could feel it in the swelling of his shaft. And I was almost screaming with desire, because his tongue was teasing my clit and licking the sides of my cunt. Then, suddenly his whole mouth closed down on my cunt and he was sucking.
"And I was sucking at his prick as it slid up and down my throat, swelling, pulsing, and then Wayne stopped abruptly, pulled it almost out and then drove it back deep into me. At that instant his cock exploded. I didn't think I could hold all the come, all those great hot, salty juices pumping down my throat. Then I found a means to swallow, taking all. And my little cunt was pulsing, too, shooting juices that Wayne lapped up, sucking until I felt as if he might suck part of me into him.
"We both dropped, limp, with Wayne pulling his deflating prick from my mouth and collapsing beside me, his prick right by my face. Every now and then I reached out with my tongue and scooped up some more of his juices, the last oozing drops. Then Wayne was caressing my quivering body and calming it down, so that we were soothing each other into a state of quiet relaxation, except for occasional happy shudders that ran through me.
"We tried it once more that night before we reluctantly quit. We'd have to be out of the studio, because it was booked for early morning.
"After that, Wayne taught me many things about asshole fucking. Though Jake had really been first, Wayne was the expert, the artist, the past master. As he said, he wasn't just being a photographer for my portfolio, he was grooming me for other aspects of the profession, the most important being sex.
"He was right. With the portfolio of Wayne's photographs-and they were superb-I got some immediate jobs. Not the best, right at first. But Wayne helped, suggesting me for certain accounts-and for certain account executives who had special tastes.
"Some of those tastes were highly exotic. Like there was one guy who wanted me for asshole fucking and another man for cock sucking. This guy had me sit on his prick, ramming it up my asshole, while he sucked off this young man. But since it meant that I got a three months contract to work that account at a very lush figure, I didn't mind.
"Nor did I mind the guy who wanted to suck me off while some young man reamed his asshole. So long as it wasn't a prick in my cunt, I didn't object to anything. The contracts came very nicely then, although I knew some of the girls were laying the account executives-straight lays, I mean, with a chance of getting pregnant. But they didn't get the really swell contracts. Somehow, it seems the guy with the really lush accounts had the most exotic tastes in sex. And I got my share of those accounts. And account executives. And exotic sex.
"I'm satisfied.. My face and figure are in all the best magazines. And I've got a nice fat bank account. Maybe not all from posing for photographers, but it spends just as nicely and buys just as much jewelry and furs-when I have to buy them for myself, which isn't often. I guess I could get myself set up in a penthouse apartment, with just one lover of some very special type who can pay well. But I prefer to be independent. Besides, I get a variety of assignments that way. And a variety of assignations. It works out.
"And, in a way, I'm saving my little cunt for the man I marry. I'll still be a virgin there. And some guy will get my cherry. And maybe I'll get pregnant. But by then it won't matter. I'll be out of 'high fashion' photographs by the time I want to get married and get some right-side-up fucking. It'll be kind of strange-but I may like it."
CHAPTER FOUR
Tina ... Like Sister; Love Brother
"Wanda and I were best friends all through grammar school and junior high and up into high school. I mean, we didn't have any secrets from one another-or that's what I thought-and we swapped dresses, which sometimes made our moms mad because they never could tell where our clothes were.
"Not that it made much difference. We lived less than a block apart. Only, of course, sometimes it wasn't so easy to remember whose blue sweater with white piping it started out to be. Sometimes our moms didn't remember for sure. But, like I said, it didn't really make much difference. We shared. Even charm bracelets and my most genuine pearl necklace and Wanda's imitation diamond ring.
"Not that we wore that sort of junk right out in public. Maybe to drive-in movies and in 'dressing up' in our attics, pretending we were glamorous, like movie stars. Both of us had some ratty old furs our moms had thrown away that we used to parade around in. That was last year, when we were just getting to be fourteen. Now we don't dress up, or at least, not in the same ratty way.
"We still try on each other's clothes, mostly in Wanda's family attic because it has a sort of cubbyhole room with an old cot and a chair and ottoman in it. It was for when Wanda's family had a maid, only they don't anymore. And that's when we try on bikinis. Not real bikinis. Our moms would have fits if we bought anything so scandalous. We sort of made them up ourselves out of scraps. And some of the scraps were pretty small.
"I remember putting on one that was made out of a couple of old ties. So there wasn't much material. One little band just barely covered my pink nipples and let part of the pinkish-brown ring show. And I could barely cover my mound with the broadest part of the tie-and even that slipped off. So I was just about naked. Not that I cared, with just Wanda there. We'd seen each other naked plenty of times. Only not so much since we had kind of grown up and had boobs and round little asses.
"I stooped over to pick up the tie that had dropped and my bandeau popped. And I really was naked. And Wanda's older brother was there at the door, grinning. It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't sort of liked him. I mean, a guy you don't care anything about walks in, so you shoo him out, or scream or something. But I couldn't yell at Walter. Besides, he's Wanda's brother and belongs there.
"And those two ties seemed awfully small and getting smaller every time I tried to cover up with 'em. Walter stopped grinning and simply nodded. 'Why bother, Tina? I've seen it all now. So quit flapping those ties. They're distracting.'
"It's kind of hard being haughty and indignant when you don't have anything except a couple of skimpy ties to cover you, but I tried. That's what I meant 'em to be, 'distracting.' Only I really did hold 'em still and then, with a sigh, just sort of dropped both hands at my side. Like Walter said, he'd seen everything, so why bother?
"He could also see practically everything Wanda had, since she was just wearing a skimpy little piece of gauze for a bandeau and some lace panties that were pretty old and had more holes than lace. Still, she didn't seem to mind. But that was because Walter was her brother, I guess.
"Walter leaned against the doorjamb and looked me over. I just stood there, not knowing quite what to do. Scrambling into my panties and blouse would be even more revealing and silly looking. Walter nodded, like he approved of what he saw. 'Did you tell her, Wanda? About us? And ask her?'
"I glanced at Wanda and saw her shake her head. 'Not yet, Walter. I was sort of working up to it.'
"I drew a deep breath and then let it out quick when I realized how it made my little boobies stick out. Especially since my nipples were getting hot just from Walt looking at them. And so was my little cunt.
"It's funny what just having a boy look at you naked can do to you, inside. Like it was making my breath awfully short, especially when I happened to look at Walter and could see his pants bulging where I knew his pecker was. The bulge looked awful big, as if his pecker was all swollen and pushing out. And it made me all hot and embarrassed just thinking about it.
"I looked back quick at Wanda. 'Tell me what? I mean, you just said you hadn't got around to it. So what is it?'
"Wanda sort of fiddled with her panties and looked uncomfortable. Somehow she snapped what little elastic there was and the lace just came apart, leaving her naked except for the bandeau. She twisted one hand in that and looked at my feet. 'Walt likes you. He wants to screw you.' She turned to Walt and her bandeau snapped, leaving us both naked as jaybirds and Walt looking at us, first one, then the other. She pouted at Walt. 'There. I asked her.'
"Walt nodded. 'Yeah, but you didn't tell her about us.' He winked at me. 'Wanda and I screw.'
"Wanda glanced at me and shrugged. 'Not really screw. Not like maybe getting caught, you know-and having a baby.'
"Walt nodded. 'Yeah, we got a very special way. Guaranteed, no babies.' He looked me over pretty carefully.
"That made me flush hot all over. And the very idea of screwing! I couldn't think of it. Well, think of it, yes. I guess every girl thinks about it, once she's figured out what her parts are for, and that the boys have a special kind of part that fits. Only, it's just kind of daydreaming, about getting screwed and how exciting it is and all. Mostly with movie stars.
"And all the time Wanda had been doing it. And I thought we hadn't any secrets from each other! I guess I looked sort of reproachful, though that's kind of hard to do when you're standing naked in front of a boy and blushing hot all over. At least it felt like I was blushing all over.
"Especially when Walt walked into the room and stood right next to me. 'You're cute, Tina. You've got cute little titties.' He reached out and put his hand on one, so that I gasped. Only I didn't back away. Sort of hypnotized, I guess. Anyway, his hand on my booby felt warm and good. And when he moved it just a little, so's to rub my nipple, I almost fainted, it made everything so tight inside me.
"Walt pulled me toward him, my back up against his stomach, and played with my boobies and slid his hands down my sides and alongside my hips. It made me so weak I leaned against him and kind of choked on my own breath, because I suddenly could feel the lump of his pecker pushing at my butt. The roughness of cloth seemed to get me more excited, so that I scarcely was aware that he was moving his hands over my mound and touching my slit.
"Then I was very much aware, because his finger slipped into my slit, shooting excitement far up my belly. I had never had a boy touch me there. Or even close, though a couple of times boys had tried to feel me up. I had always stopped them by the time they were playing along the insides of my thighs, which was plenty exciting, but nothing like this.
"It made me seem to melt, almost from my own heat. And I knew Walt had dropped his pants. I don't think he had on any underpants because his prick just jumped at me, sliding along the crack between the cheeks of my butt. He moved a little, stabbing it down between my legs, and I wriggled and shuffled my feet so as to spread my legs.
"His prick slid in, along the crack of my ass, and came out in front, down by my little mound and slit. His fingers were spreading the lips of my slit-then, suddenly, they were spreading themselves and oozing juices. I could look down and see how wet I was and how I was getting his cock wet.
"I began to get scared, then, because I knew if his prick went into my slit, I could have a baby. 'Please! Please don't put it in me. I'm scared.' I tried to pull away but he held on to me, cupping his hands around my boobies.
"Walt breathed on my neck arid slid his tongue from my ear down alongside my throat. It almost choked me with all the stirring up going on inside. 'I'm not going in your cunt, Tina. I wouldn't do that to you. But I'm going to slide it up your asshole.'
"Walt drew back then, so that his prick was right up against my asshole, between the cheeks of my bum, and pushing. 'I think we're wet enough, kid, so I won't hurt you. But if you want vaseline, we've got some.'
"By then I didn't want anything but to feel his prick stab into me, to feel real fucking. Especially when Wanda grinned at me. 'You'll love it, Tina. And it won't hurt. And it won't give you a baby. It can't. Now, bend over. Brace your hands on the couch.'
"I did like she said, bent over and leaned on my hands. Just bending over pushed out my butt, hard against Walt's prick, so that it slid inside my asshole. Bending down like that I could see between my legs, see his cock-head already inside me and his long, pink rod with balls hanging beneath.
"Walt moved up on me, his hands reaching around to cup my boobies and pull me back against him. Then I helped. It was so new, so wonderful-and so sort of scarey, too. Like when you were a little kid and was doing something you knew your parents would spank you for but you did it anyway.
"I helped by bracing and backing up, feeling his shaft slide slowly up my asshole. And I COULD feel it. I hadn't known you could feel way back there and so far up. Oh, I'd had enemas when I was younger and I know I felt them, but in such a different way. This was excitement and things gripping my stomach inside, reaching clear through to my little cunt, making it quiver and go tight and spurt juices.
"I hadn't even known my asshole and cunt were connected-though I should have, because I had-well-masturbated a couple of times. And a couple of times with Wanda, when we were spending the night together, she had teased my asshole with her finger. But that was just tickling the outside.
"This was happening way far up, farther up than I ever believed anything could go, let alone something as big as Walt's pecker. And bringing all kinds of excitement and that funny grip of tightness that would let go a little and then grip me again. I know my hands were working on the couch, squeezing, and my arms were helping me pump back at Walt.
"Then he let out a funny sort of half-scream and rammed hard against me, clutching at my boobies until it seemed he'd pull 'em off. But it was all part of the same excitement.
"Walt let go with a kabooom! and hot juices flooded me, pulsing up my asshole and bursting from the head of his pecker. I almost screamed with the tenseness and tightness and sudden loosening that shook me.
"I didn't really know it then, but I had come. I just knew something big had happened far up inside me, and my cunt and my asshole were both working. And then the wonderful release, as if all my muscles and my insides had all quit.
"I slumped on the cot and slid to my knees, feeling Walt's pecker getting limp now and lots smaller, sliding, sliding, sliding out of my asshole. Even that was delicious. Then Walt eased down beside me, one arm across my shoulders. 'Like it, Tina? Was it good?'
"Of course it was good. And certainly I liked it. Only suddenly I was ashamed. I hadn't ever meant to do anything like that-not till I got married. And I'd done it right in front of Wanda. I looked up.
"Wanda looked kind of strange. Maybe a little tight and tense-while I was so relaxed. But she smiled at me. 'I can see you liked it, Tina. Now we can all have fun. Together.'
"We had always had fun together, Wanda and I, dressing up and going to the soda shop and flirting a little with boys and going to the movies with a double bag of pop corn, and giggling over 'dirty' books that weren't really so dirty unless you looked especially for those parts. And even then they were sort of sketchy.
"But this was different. A lot different. I don't think I'd have gone for it if I had had time to think. But I felt rushed, like I was on a big roller coaster. I was lying on the cot, half draped on the floor, breathing hard because of the asshole screwing I had just had. And Walt was beside me, one arm draped over me, fondling one of my boobies and getting things all stirred up again.
"Wanda came over and patted me. 'You did beautiful. Just beautiful. And now we can play ring-around-a-rosy.'
"That seemed an awful childish game, especially after what had happened. Only the kid game wasn't what she meant. Walt was already letting his hands slide down my side and over my butt and then down into the crack of my butt-and on to my hot little sex box. His finger played with it, still wet from the first time.
"It startled me so I rolled over, face up, looking at Walt. 'You promised you wouldn't. Not in there. Please! You promised!'
"Walt nodded. "That's right, Tina. And I'm not going in there. This is different. But great! Really great! Just wait till you've tried it.'
"We were both lying on our backs, with my firm little titties sticking straight up. I looked down and saw Walt's prick start to quiver, getting ready to stand up. Then Walt reached over and squeezed one of my boobies. 'They're cute, Tina. In fact, you're an awfully cute kid. And you're going to learn something. Right now.'
"Walt leaned over and kissed one of my boobs, teasing the nipple with his tongue until it was stiff and getting red again. I tried to push him away but I didn't have much strength in my push. So he bore down, nuzzling my mounds, first one, then the other, so that I didn't notice he had squirmed completely around until he started working his tongue down my stomach, crawling along the cot to get down toward my little hot cunt.
"He ran his tongue along the crease between my legs and my stomach and plunged it down into the opening of my slit, still wet with the juices from the asshole screwing. I felt my legs opening up even when I wanted to clamp them together. But my slit was opening. I could feel the lips swelling and folding back, like the pages of a book. Next he worked his tongue around, almost reaming my slit, until I wanted to scream with the pain and pleasure of it.
"And his pecker, big again and wet, was almost beside my face. This close up it looked enormous, and purplish and quivering. I thought he wanted me to play with it and maybe suck it. I had heard people did it that way sometimes, only I couldn't make up my mind to reach for it.
"It didn't matter. Wanda had already reached for it, wiping it off gently with a damp cloth and then opening her mouth and practically swallowing it. It seemed to go in and in, until his shaft was buried almost to his balls in her mouth. I got so fascinated watching this I almost forgot what was happening to me, down at my cunt.
"But that's not something you can forget entirely. Exciting things were happening and I was squirming and trying to push my hot little box right up into Walt's face, and he was grinding his face into my slit, reaming his tongue up my slit and gobbling my goodies.
"And Wanda was gobbling his, her eyes almost popping with the effort to take all that big prick. She kept bobbing her head back and forth, sliding her lips along Walt's shaft, and every now and then lapping out with her tongue.
"Excitement mounted so fast I almost screamed with the need to come-and then I did. And Walt must have, too, because Wanda was sitting back, licking at his prick, which was going down. With one hand she was sort of milking it for everything he had.
"And that was ring-around-a-rosy-played their way. I was limp with exhaustion and so relaxed from released nerves that I almost fell asleep.
"It was an awfully good feeling, lying there naked, with Walt right beside me, even if sort of upside down, and Wanda leaning against the couch, her head resting on one of Walt's legs and a silly sort of half-grin on her face, which was smeared with Walt's juices. And Walt's mouth and cheeks were smeared with mine.
"We lay like that for a long time, each stirring just enough to get a little more comfortable, sighing a little, and maybe wishing it could start all over again. Or for something more to happen.
"Wanda looked up, wiping at her face with a damp cloth. 'And there's more to come, Tina. Lots more. Wait till we do a daisy chain.' "
Tina probably did not realize it, then, but her seduction by Walter had been carefully engineered-with Wanda's cooperation. Shock tactics alone probably carried Walt's seduction through to a conclusion, even though Tina had been psychologically prepared, through mutual masturbation and through the rather clumsy device of making bikinis out of very sketchy material.
The initial introduction of Tina into heterosexual anal coitus was a curious admixture of shrewd cunning and childish devices. They succeeded because Tina was naively trusting of her "dearest friend," and had been maneuvered into a sex situation the nights she and Wanda had "masturbated" together-actually they indulged in homosexual sex play.
Possibly Wanda herself was not aware of how skillful was her maneuvering of Tina. It was probably directed by Walter, to whom Wanda had become an anal sex slave. Walter seems to have been sexually mature beyond his years and a good bit of a practicing psychologist, at least so far as obtaining gratification for himself was concerned.
Tina herself had not sought sex. Of course, at fifteen-going-on-sixteen, she had had urges. She was at puberty, when the sex impulse is beginning to get intense. She was beginning to feel the need for what Freud calls "the hedonistic gratification of the sexual drive." It must also be remembered that Tina had just emerged from what Freud calls "the latency period" into puberty, when the sex drive is reawakened and may be quite intense, or, as later psychiatrists contend, may only seem intense by contrast to the "latency period" of Freud's theories (even though many of the new breed of psychiatrists do not agree with Freud on the causes of the "latency period").
The later psychiatric theories, which hold that the newly reawakened sex interest after the latency period is only seemingly the most intense, point to the general fact that the sex urge, "like good wine," ages well. And that "hedonistic gratification of the sexual drive" increases with the years-at least up to a point where, because of age, faculties tend to fail in their "hedonistic response."
The main problem, as Guttmacher points out, is not in the intensity or seeming intensity of this newly reawakened sex drive but in the lack of guidance and strength of maturity.
Thus Tina was able to be maneuvered into a position where she was, at first, a reluctant and then eager sex partner. Her chief concern, as we have seen and will see repeated, is with the possibility of pregnancy. This is naturally a dominant thought in a young, nubile female. It is particularly a major concern of the young, unmarried female, where pregnancy can be a social disaster. At that age (puberty) the young girl of middle and upper-middle class mores is particularly concerned with her position within that social stratum.
Whatever her biological and emotional drives, the girl at puberty is deeply concerned with the mores of her peer group. Many of them allow themselves to be persuaded that such a thing as pregnancy won't happen, and are seduced (or seduce themselves) into a sex situation that does produce pregnancy. .
Tina was obviously an intelligent young girl. Her language and her own analysis of her situation make that clear. She may have been carefully cultivated and deliberately lured into the initial situation of heterosexual anal coitus with Walter, but the rest of her rather complex sex life was of her own choice, driven by these newly aroused (and momentarily satisfied) emotions.
The very fact that she has consulted someone outside her normal milieu indicates that she has belatedly realized that the highly charged and wholly artificial sex life she has been living is not the complete answer to her sex drives.
She has been deliberately seeking a means of breaking away from this powerful biological urge that has kept her linked with Wanda, Walter, Fred and the young "sex cult" group. In her statements, Tina is not yet quite ready-as might be expected of a young girl initiated into satisfactory (and safe) sex-to make a complete conversion.
However, she has taken this initial step, just in asking: Is there a way? Perhaps she will return for further consultation. It is even possible that she will be able to find her own solution, since the dilemma is not insoluble. It can be resolved.
What are Tina's chances of resolving it? Since Tina is intelligent-perhaps not brilliant but at least adequately endowed-she may very probably find her way back to normal sex and marriage. Possibly later, she will have excursions back into fellatio and anal coitus with her husband.
She has these factors going for her: (1) She was deliberately lured into a sex situation (which has undoubtedly now occurred to her) and not compelled by an inexorable sex drive. (2) Youth and her own normal desires for marriage and family. (3) The upper-middle class mores that still dictate a large portion of her actions and thoughts.
With these factors going for her, and her own willingness to seek help, the prognosis is that Tina can and will make adjustments.
"I didn't find out until lots later that Walt and Wanda had got the names sort of mixed up and what they called 'ring-around-a-rosy' was most generally called 'a daisy chain' and what they called 'daisy chain' was mostly called 'ring-around-a-rosy,' among other things.
"Walt had got the names out of a book he'd bought at one of these adult art book stores where he pretended to be lots older than sixteen and looked it. Only, like a kid of sixteen who is more interested in what's happening in the pictures than what's printed, he got the names of the games mixed up.
"Not that it mattered. The games were mixed up enough to suit anybody. Me getting sucked off by Walt and Walt by Wanda was just one form. The next one got real complicated.
"But that was a little later. I mean, Walt and Wanda and I bad some real fine times up in that attic room. That's when I learned to take Walt's prick in my mouth and suck him off while Wanda sucked me off and Walt lapped at Wanda's little hot box. That way each of us got two different kinds of sex at the same time, sucking and being sucked.
"I remember the first time Walt suggested I suck him off. I had come up with Wanda for some more asshole fucking-maybe our third time or maybe it was the fourth. And Walt and I had had a wonderful asshole screw. He had really gone deep, bumping my little butt with his pelvis until it was almost like a spanking, only lots more fun because Walt's shaft was riding way up my asshole. That made the spanking the most enjoyable I'd ever had. At least, that's one way to enjoy a spanking: get slapped with a boy's pelvis while his prick is reaming out your butt-hole.
"We were doing it spoon-fashion, with Walt holding on to my boobies and working his fingers into them while he reamed me out. Every now and then he'd slide his hand over my stomach, which would start new muscles quivering and reach down between my legs, slipping his fingers into my slit and working them around, teasing my clit enough to make things more exciting.
"I liked that finger fucking while Walt was reaming my butt because it got right down where the excitement is, without actually screwing me down there. The screwing was at the other hole. And real deep-type screwing it was, too. I could feel his balls banging against my crotch, adding to the excitement in my cunt.
"And way up my ass-tunnel I could feel the head of his prick rubbing and ramming. I could feel the movements of his shaft right back down to my asshole, which I was using to milk him. That's what he called it-milking. And I was getting pretty good. I mean, I learned how to control that muscle back there so my asshole worked up and down on his shaft and also sort of gobbled on it.
"All at once Walt jabbed at my cunt so hard I bucked backward, ramming his prick still farther up my ass-tunnel. We were off to the races, really squirming and humping to get the most out of our comes.
"After I'd felt his shaft swell and pulse and then the hot spurt of his juice far up my tunnel, we both sort of collapsed and lay there, enjoying the warmth of the other's body and the delicious release of tense, tight, tired muscles-and the subsiding excitement.
"Finally Walt got up, went off to wash up around his privates, then came back to lie down beside me. I was so comfortably sleepy I didn't even realize he was upside down to me, with his prick almost in my face. I opened my eyes and was startled to see it lying there, sort of half limp and not nearly so big but very red looking, flopped across one leg.
"Walt was playing with my little cunt, which is what made me open my eyes, feeling his fingers sliding in and out along my slit. Walt looked up, grinning. 'Try it for size. Go on, open your mouth.' Then he waggled his prick almost right in my face, sort of pumping it up and letting it subside.
"I couldn't. But I did reach up and grab his shaft. It hardened almost right away in my hand, thrusting toward my mouth. And it felt hot, as if a sort of heartbeat was going on right inside it. I squeezed on it and Walt moaned, shoving his prick back and forth in my grip, each time pushing it a little closer to my mouth.
"I was almost cross-eyed from looking at it, but I could see the head was already beginning to leak juices. I reached out with my tongue and touched the spurt of juice. It was salty and kind of sharp tasting-but good. Real good. I opened my mouth and his cock-head slid in, filling my whole mouth with that wonderfully male salt taste.
"I had to hold tight to his shaft to keep him from ramming it right on down my throat, because I sort of wanted to get used to his prick in my mouth and how I'd handle it. And that made Walt more excited. He bucked back and forth against my hand, popping his shaft in and out of my mouth, and then, when I let go, driving it way down my throat.
"It was so startling that I snapped my head back and his prick came out. Then I looked down and got a big surprise. It wasn't Walt licking at my little hot box. It was Wanda. And Walt was lapping at her slit and playing with one of her tits, plus one of mine.
"He stuck his prick back in my mouth and this time I could take it, way deep in my throat, except I had to back off every now and then just to breathe. Breathing didn't really seem essential right then, though it did become necessary once in a while.
"So much was happening inside me. Walt's prick was sliding and stabbing down my throat, oozing juices that I tasted way deep. And at the same time, Wanda was opening my slit with her fingers and sliding her tongue over my clit, making my whole stomach writhe and churn with the want for a good orgasm.
"And I had one. It was so exciting and so sort of grab-you-in-the-stomach, like things were exploding and blowing you to bits but in a wonderfully exciting way. I got so carried away I almost bit Walt's prick as it went kerboom! in my throat. I could feel the pulse of his juices pumping down his shaft, spreading that good hot, salty taste all through my mouth and throat.
"It must have happened for Wanda, too, because she sighed and pulled away from my cunt for a moment and then sort of languidly licked at the juices that were flowing, while Walt was licking at her. I even made a few licks at Walt's prick, but I didn't really care because my whole mouth and throat were full of the taste of him. I just hung on to his prick with one hand, feeling it subside from a big, stiff shaft to a limp little rag, wet with his own juices and from my mouth. I would just swallow every now and then, getting some more of the taste of his come.
"So we lay there, happy in all that had happened. If that was a daisy chain, I was going to pick a lot of daisies from then on. Only Wanda explained that wasn't really a full daisy chain. We'd have one of those in a few days, over at Fred's house, because his parents were going away for a long weekend and then we could have the basement rumpus room for a chain.
"It was Friday after school when Wanda and I went to Fred's house. Fred was a senior-for the second time around. It wasn't that he was stupid; he just wasn't interested in school. He had other things on his mind like girls and
'daisy chains' and 'ring-around-a-rosy' and such.
"He was cute, blond where Walt was dark, and maybe not quite as tall as Walt who was just about six feet. Fred was maybe within an inch of that. And he had a cute quirk of a smile that made him look mischievous. Most of the girls in the junior class had a crush on him. And I guess he could have had his pick of girls. He probably had. He also had a crazy, mixed-up jalopy, which didn't hurt him a bit with the girls.
"I had never gone out with him; mostly, I think, because I wasn't going to chase any boy, especially with every other girl in my class going goops over him. I almost said, 'going ape,' but that's out now. 'Goops' is IN. Not that anybody really knows what it means except it means 'going goops' over a guy.
"Going to his house with Wanda and Walt-at Fred's invitation-wasn't chasing him. Not really. Though I was kind of excited about having a date with him-especially this kind of date when I knew I'd get screwed. In the asshole, of course.
"I had made that clear to Wanda. I just couldn't let a boy, not even Fred, put his prick in me and maybe give me a baby. Wanda just sort of chuckled. 'You won't get screwed in the cunt, Tina. Maybe lots of other places, but not in the cunt.'
"I didn't get much more explanation than that, except that it would be like up in Wanda's attic, with Walt, only more exciting.
"Walt and Fred met us at the side door, the one to the rumpus room. Fred was real polite, like he was host at a party, which, I guess, in a sense, he was. He even had cokes and cookies ready.
"We sat around the rumpus room, Wanda and I on a couch and Walt slumped in a chair, grinning at us, while Fred served the cokes. He nodded at me. 'Is she wise?' Walt nodded. 'Right in the groove, man. Right in the groove. And deep in.'
"Fred looked me over, a little bolder this time, so that I started getting hot in my stomach and chest. 'She's always been a real square at school. I never even figured she'd be interested.'
"Walt waved his coke at me. 'She's interested. Except not in the front door. She won't go for that. But neither will Wanda.' Walt shrugged. 'If I was a girl, maybe I'd feel the same way. At least, this way, it's safe.'
"Fred turned toward a big stereo. 'Like to dance?' I was sort of tongue-tied but I nodded. Then Fred turned the stereo on and came toward me. I was kind of surprised at the music.
It was real square stuff. A waltz. Schmaltzy. Like we had at dancing school and the folks had out at the country club. A waltz yet! And from Fred I had expected the latest rock or some real moaning soul music.
"Fred pulled me up into his arms. He was a smooth dancer. I mean, I could follow him all right. And then I understood why he preferred a waltz to rock. In rock a girl and boy just stand up and wiggle at each other, like the frug and some of the later things I don't even know the names of. They change from week to week.
"But in a waltz a guy has his arms around you and his pelvis is right up against yours, moving easy and smooth while his hands play up and down your back. He could even reach under my arm and feel my boobies. So maybe the older generation really had something in this waltz bit.
"I could feel Fred's pelvis sliding up against mine and then his prick stiffening and pushing out his pants, rubbing against my hot pussy while his hands went roaming. So I was getting hot down at my crotch and my boobies were swelling and my nipples getting hard. And when his hands slid over my little butt, pulling me close, it was almost like screwing right out on the dance floor, because I could feel his prick pushing right at my cunt.
"Then we swapped off and I danced with Walt while Wanda danced with Fred. Walt was already stiff, bunched way out, and he rammed it at me", rubbing it hard against my stomach. Like Fred, he sent his hands roaming. Then he unbuttoned my sweater down the back. I wasn't wearing a bra. I didn't really need one because my tits are kind of firm and tilted up anyway. So his hands could get right to work, teasing my nipples until it made me want to plaster myself against him, rubbing hard against his prick.
"I looked around and Fred already had Wanda's blouse open and was dancing with her with his cheek down against one of her tits, probably tonguing her nipple. So I let Walt slide my sweater off and I was dancing topless, my boobs swinging to the music, while Walt played with one and ran his hand over my butt. And then up to the belt of my skirt.
"I felt his fingers tugging at the catch and then felt it give way, maybe busted, for all I knew. And the zipper slid down, real fast. On the next whirl of the waltz, I practically stepped out of my skirt, with nothing but some very brief panties between me and the world. And those went quick.
"It was exciting dancing with Walt, feeling the roughness of cloth against my skin and the bulge of his prick rubbing my stomach. Then Fred and Walt swapped off.
"Fred was maybe more adept than Walt at kissing my nipples and running his hands over my ass and up my sides, so I was burning up by the time he whispered, 'Let's go in the next room.' He gave a kind of whinnying laugh. 'There's a wrestling mat in there. We can wrestle.'
"Walt was the only boy I had ever let see me naked and do things to me, so I was kind of holding back, but Fred danced me over to the door, rubbing his swollen prick against my stomach. So for the first time I realized he had unzipped his pants and was pushing his prick up tight against my stomach.
"I went in with him, mostly because by now I wanted him to screw me. Wanted it bad. Walt and Wanda came in right behind us, Wanda shucking her clothes as she came and Walt stepping out of his pants and stripping off his shirt. Fred scrambled out of his right then, too.
"It was exciting watching those two boys naked at once. Walt was dark and kind of slender, but muscled, while Fred was, oh, maybe an inch shorter but lots stockier, with a very deep tan all over, the way some blonds can get tan. I guess he had his own sunlamp because he was tan even where people who wear two-piece bathing suits stay pink. Right around his butt and pecker. And his pecker seemed bigger than Walt's. Bigger around, that is, but not any longer.
"I didn't know what to do. I mean, with two people, yes. And I'd seen even a third get into the act. But four! Only I didn't have to worry. They had it all figured out. I was to lie down, with Fred's prick practically in my face, swollen now and quivering, while Walt was lying with his head right by my little cunt. Wanda was lying with her head by Walt's prick, her hot pussy up where Fred could reach it.
"And so we started playing. I guess I was the poorest player, because I didn't know what was supposed to happen next. Not really. But it all worked out. I played with Fred's prick for a while, watching it swell to a big purplish stick with a shiny head, while Walt was teasing my boobies with his hands and running his tongue along the crease between my leg and my stomach, moving right down to my little hot box.
"Then excitement sort of took over. I went down on Fred's prick, gulping at it and taking that big thing in my mouth, then stabbing at it with my head, making it slide deep down my throat. And all the time Walt was opening up my pussy lips and running his tongue over my clit, lapping at the juices that were flowing.
"We were all writhing and twisting and moving in one big mass of flesh-very excited flesh. First one and then the other would come.
But that didn't seem to stop things. We just kept on playing, sucking at each other until I had come at least three times and I knew I had taken at least three shots of Fred's hot, spouting juices. Then we all lay back, flat out pooped, our faces smeared with each other's come and licking at our own chops. And sighing.
"That was the first. Sometimes we had as many as six, squirming around on that old wrestlers' mat. And sometimes, just two of us would get together, maybe for a sixty-nine, maybe for asshole screwing. We even built up a sort of club of very special members. Not all could make the same date, but we usually had enough. We could always count on someone.
"Like I say, it wasn't a real club. There weren't any posted dates or notices, and there weren't any dues. Not real dues. We would each pitch in something, just to have a kitty for cokes and cookies and things like that. There was even one girl who always wanted milk. Can you imagine that? Going up to the garage apartment to get laid or at least sucked off-and wanting milk. Gee, she was still a kid. Just a real kid. But cute.
"She had nice little bubbies. Real pear-shaped ones. Know what I mean? With the biggest part right up against her chest and then rounding out with a little extra bump, like the top of a pear-and her nipple where the stem would be.
"I got to know them real well, because a couple of times Sara-that was the milk kid's name-Sara and I came up to the apartment all hot and bothered for a good asshole screwing or a sucking off, and none of the boys showed up. Football practice or baseball or something. Or maybe the jalopy of one of 'em had busted down and they all went over to fix it. Boys are kind of clannish that way. When any one of 'em could have come up to the apartment and given us girls a real good screwing in the ass. Oh, I admit, some of the girls-one or two-didn't mind getting screwed right in the pussy, but they took an awful chance of getting a baby.
"In fact, I sort of suspect that Carolyn did get 'caught.' At least, she went off awful sudden to visit an aunt in Denver or somewhere-just where was kind of vague. And then we heard she was 'too sick to come back right away,' and she didn't, for three or four months. And didn't come back to the club for maybe six.
"But I notice she didn't screw the regular way any more after that. Just asshole fucking and an awful lot of sucking. She seemed to take out her frustrations that way, sucking, better than she did asshole fucking, though she'd do either.
"But what I was really talking about was Sara and her cute little pear-shaped bubbies.
And about the times the boys didn't show up.
"There we were, the two of us, just waiting, with our juices all ready to run and our tongues practically hanging out for a good screw. It gets you like that every now and then. As if you didn't know. I bet you know just about everything there is to know about screwing. Oh, I don't mean from practice, necessarily, but from listening to up-tight kids like me, pouring it all into your shell-pink ears. You must have heard of just about every variation there is. And it doesn't shock you? No, I guess not. That's your business, isn't it, knowing things and not being shocked by 'em?
"So I can tell you all this and get it out of my system and maybe be 'normal' again. Only what's 'normal'? And who do you talk to to get it out of your system?
"Anyway, there we were, Sara and me, with our clothes off, waiting for the boys and nobody came. No, that wasn't meant for a pun. Just nobody showed up.
"I got to looking at Sara's cute little titties-they really are cute, standing out just as straight, like-well, almost like fingers pointing. And suddenly I wanted to taste 'em. Just suck on them and taste them, as if they'd taste like pears. Of course, they wouldn't. That was just a kind of fancy idea.
'And I saw Sara looking down at my little ol' cunt and then jerking her eyes away, as if she had guilty ideas. So I moved over and lay down on the bed, sort of flinging myself around in an 'abandoned' pose-naked, of course. And looked at Sara. I could see she was looking at my pussy, sort of hungry, so I kind of had it figured. She wanted to suck pussy.
"Well, I guess at one time or another we had all sucked a pussy, in the 'round robins' and 'rings-around-a-rosy' but always with a boy somewhere in the setup, either asshole screwing or sucking off. So I wasn't so sure.
"Anyway, I beckoned to Sara and patted the bed beside me. The way she sort of started and then kind of scurried over, I knew that was what she'd been hoping for but was too shy to ask. Funny, isn't it? She'd suck a cock or let herself be fucked or sucked by a boy and was too shy to ask for a suck from a girl.
"So I opened my legs and guided her hand down to my pussy, where I was getting pretty hot and didn't care who stuck their tongue in it. I even nudged her a little, playing with one of those cute little pear-shaped titties. She stayed stiff for a moment, thrusting out her chest and letting me play-as if that was what she had come over for. Then, with a kind of moan, she bent over and touched her tongue to my belly button, slid it on down my stomach and me almost ready to scream-right into my hot little box.
"I pulled her ass over and she straddled me, with her pussy almost in my mouth and her cute little titties hanging down, where I could play with 'em and run my tongue up her cunt at the same time.
"The first thing you know, we were really sucking off-screwing lesbian style, I guess you'd call it. And having an exciting orgasm. Just about as good as a boy could give.
"I liked it, but not that much. I mean, if I should get hot and there isn't any boy around and there is somebody like Sara, I might go for sucking snatch. But it's not really my hang-up.
"I've enjoyed the various games we play, 'ring-around-a-rosy' and 'daisy chain' and 'round robin' and sixty-nine-that's a boy and girl sucking each other off-and the asshole screwing. But that's really just fun-and-games.
"I mean, it doesn't seem like real sex. Know what I mean? Like being screwed in the pussy.
"I've been doing it so many different ways I'm not sure I can do it 'normal,' but I want to find out. I want to find out when I can have a baby legitimately. And-honestly, I wouldn't want to get married as hung up as I am. It wouldn't be fair to a guy who expected 'normal' screwing-with maybe an occasional variation. And expected babies. Three probably. At least, that's what most of 'em say. 'I'd like three kids. Two boys and maybe a girl.'
"It's always 'and maybe a girl'-as if there was still some third kind, or a variety.
"So that's why I'm talking all this out, now. So maybe I'll get an understanding of what makes me tick and how I can switch back to 'normal.' And be ready to get married and do everything the way it should be done-including having three kids. 'Two boys-and maybe a girl.'"
CHAPTER FIVE
Anna ... Mind Under Matter
"I know I ain't so smart, mister. But I'm not stupid. Just a little dull, maybe, and I don't always remember so good, though I can remember things Mom sends me for at the store. Like even four or five things at once-if she repeats them a couple of times, till I get them in my head, like a song. You know how a song gets in your head and won't come out? Well, I can recite lists Mom sent me to the store for as much as a week ago. And not mix 'em up.
"I remember things Mom told me not to do. I remember them good. Real good. Like she told me never to fuck no boys. Well, I never did. Like asshole fucking ain't fucking for real. My brother Willie told me that. 'It ain't fucking for real, Anna. It's just sorta for fun.'
"And it was for fun. Ain't never had so much fun in my whole life, gettin' bung-holed by Willie-and them others. I sorta forget them. Anyway, they didn't mean much. They were just guys from town. Not relatives or nothin'. Kru and Willie was relatives. They was my brothers, and still are, matter-of-fact. They're real lively. Smart as a whip.
"What's so smart about a whip, mister? Whips didn't never seem specially smart to me. Anyways, that's what you say when a guy is smart. 'Smart as a whip.' Kinda silly, ain't it, when you come right down to it.
"Oh, about me getting fucked. Well, like I say, it wasn't fucking for real. Just in the asshole. But a lot of fun. I don't see why they made Willie and Kru stop bung-holing me. We wasn't hurting nobody. Just having fun. And I couldn't get no babies. I ain't supposed to get babies, on account I ain't so bright. I might have kinda stupid babies and that ain't good. Being stupid ain't good. I know.
"Mom says the county is gonna do something to me so I won't never have ho babies. Can they? Just like that, fix it so I can't have babies even if I get fucked right-side up? Then why do they tell me I can't do no more fucking with boys, not even asshole fucking, which ain't for real? And when I get fixed so's I can't have babies, they say I can't even take my clothes off around boys. It ain't fair. Mom shouldn't'a signed no consent order or whatever, saying they could fix me up so I couldn't have no babies and then not let me fuck. That ain't right. 'Cause they's plenty of guys would like to fuck me, either asshole, which ain't for real, or for real, if I wasn't gonna get no babies.
"What's so wrong with fucking? Lots of people do it. Right at home, too. I seen 'em. When? When Willie and me would slip off at night, up to the old cabin on the south ridge. We'd just sort of sneak by houses where other folks live and peek in, real quiet, mostly to see if the menfolks were in or out huntin' where we might run into 'em. That's when we saw folks fucking. Either way, for real or maybe asshole fucking.
"And you'd be s'prised, mister. It wasn't always the right feller fucking the right wife. Kinda surprising the things folks'll do, ain't it? Just the same, pretty near everybody fucks. And now they say I can't no more, even fixed up so I can't have no babies. I wish they'd done it sooner, so maybe Willie and Kru and me and them other fellers coulda been fucking for real all this time. Not just asshole fucking.
"How come I started asshole fucking? Why, that's easy. Willie asked me. Willie's my brother, like I told ya. How come he asked me? That's a kinda stupid question that I'd git called down for. He asked me because he's a man and I'm a girl. Or maybe you ain't noticed. Them's boobies-two of 'em. And under this skirt I got a little fur pussy-which ain't been touched yet. By a pecker, that is. Want to see it? Okay. So you know I'm a girl. So did Willie, only he's knowed me longer.
"Like he knowed I was a girl a long way back, even before I got boobies. He seen me often enough. Naked? Sure, naked. How can a girl-or a guy for that matter-take a bath with clothes on? And our tub was right out in the kitchen, so's to be near the hot water and so's you wouldn't be cold when you got out.
"I seen Willie naked, too. And my other brothers. That's how I knew they was brothers. Because they had pee-sticks. You know. It hangs down in front and they use it to pee. Only, when it stands up it's a pecker and they use it to screw. Oh, you knew? Then why'd you ask? But it is kinda convenient, ain't it?
"When did Willie ask me? On a Saturday night, 'long about May. How old was I? Mister, you got the funniest way of asking questions. Whyn't you ask right out, how old was I? Fact is, I don't rightly know. I can't say as I know how old I am right now.
(Anna was about fourteen when her brother Willie introduced her to anal coitus and eighteen at the time of this interview).
"It was a mighty perty night. That I remember. And I'd had my regular Saturday night bath. So I climbed up in the loft room. That's just above our living room. In winter it's warm up there, on account of the fire in the living room.
"Willie dumb up behind me, looking right up my nightie, but I didn't mind, on account of he had sat right there in the kitchen whilst I had my bath. Anyway, who cares if a brother looks at your ass, specially if he'd been seeing it for donkey's years. How long are donkey's years? It's what you say when you mean a long time but don't know just how long.
"When I got into my cot, I only had a sheet on account of it was May and pretty warm. And I didn't really use that. Just sorta throwed it back and laid down. Willie come up and sat down by my cot and looks at me. 'You ever wanta screw, Sis?' I hadn't never really thought about screwing but I sorta frowned over it, trying to figure. 'I ain't supposed to screw.
Mom said so.'
"Willie kinda sighed. 'I know she said so. What I asked was, did you ever want to? Didn't you never sleep with a boy?'
"I kinda got sore then. 'Willie, you know ain't nary a boy around ever dumb up the ladder, much less sleep here. You oughta know. You watch this loft like a hawk. Oh, I seen you, sitting down there aiming your eyes up here.'
"Willie put a hand on my legs and started sliding it up and down, pretending he didn't notice it. I noticed it, 'cause for some reason it made me shiver. Not a real scary shiver but kinda good. Willie sorta didn't look at his hand when it slid up on my little box-I call it that 'cause it just started getting fur on it.
"'Ain't you ever slept with a boy anywheres else?' Willie asked me.
"I sorta pushed his hand away, only somehow I pushed it down between my legs, right into the front of my little fur box. 'Willie, you know I ain't never slept anywheres but right up in this loft.'
"Willie says he don't mean really sleep with a boy, he really meant screw. So why don't he say so. I ain't. So I tell him. And by that time he's got his other hand on one of my boobies. I don't mind. It feels pretty good, really. His hand down on my pussy is getting me real twitchy, so I started to wiggle. Somehow that just sort of drives his hand up tighter and I begin to feel all hot. Even my tits. And the nipples are standing up real stiff.
"Willie sort of pinches one of my nipples and then leans over and starts to suck on it, just like I might have milk. That makes me start to shake, and then Willie says, 'Wouldn't you like to fuck if you could do it so Mom wouldn't know?'
"I'm kinda talking to the top of Willie's head and he's working his tongue around my boob and nipple. 'Mom says I can't. I'll get a baby. Like Bossy has a calf a little while after the bull fucks her.'
"Willie looks up. 'But don't she have fun when the bull is fucking her?' And I sorta have to admit it looks that way. And all the time I'm getting around to feeling like Bossy looks. And Willie has my nightie just about all the way off, up around my neck, while he's running his tongue all over my stomach, making it sort of tie up in knots, but at the same time feel awfully good.
"Willie slides his tongue down my stomach and right on to my pussy. Then he uses both hands and opens up the lips, so his tongue can go in. It sure feels good, him running his tongue over my parts and making my little ol' hips twitch and jump. But it still ain't fucking.
That's his tongue in there. It ain't his pecker. So I can't have a baby.
"My stomach sort of heaves with each time he rams his tongue up inside my pussy. But even the heaves feel awful exciting, like there's maybe Christmas coming, only more so. Like it's almost perty near right there and you only got to open your eyes to see it.
"Then Willie sort of nudges me over, kinda turning me. And he slips into my bed, right alongside me. And he's shed his pants. His little pee-stick is standing straight. It's a sure enough pecker, now. I ain't never seen it like that and I want to feel it. Willie pulls my hand down on it and I feel it, hard and slickery, and jumping.
"Willie turns me on my side with my ass toward his pee-stick, then he slides it up against my bunghole. I tell him, sort of whispering, 'It ain't gonna fit.' But he whispers back, 'Sure it will. Only don't yell when it does.'
"I promise and sort of wait, letting him feel of my boobies and tickle my nipples, while things get a little confused. Like my little fur twat has got all hot and wet and sticky and is working like it wants a tit to suck. And so is my bunghole. But it has something to suck on. Willie's pecker-head that's like a big, shiny turnip.
"Willie squeezes on my boobs and rams his pee-stick right into my bunghole. Now that it's got something to suck on, my bunghole really starts working and I am whimpering a little. But Willie puts one hand over my mouth and says, 'Shhh. Mom'll hear you.'
"I don't see why that should be so bad. She'd see I wasn't really fucking, even if Willie's finger was working up in it, making it hotter and wetter. Besides, this isn't fucking for real. Willie hisself said so.
"Maybe it ain't fucking for real but it comes perty close. I seen them mares lifting their tail and swishin' 'em sideways and seen the stallion pawing and snorting and throwing his big black shiny pecker into 'em. And this is perty near like that. Only it's happening to me, not one of them mares. And it's almost perty sure for real, the way I feel inside.
"Willie's pecker shoves way inside, and he's ramming at me just the way that stallion rams our mares. And I'm backing into him and bucking, the way them mares do. And I'm having a for-sure-real excitement from it, like everything in me is getting wound up so tight something's gotta bust.
"It does. Everything lets go in me. I can feel hot wetness way up my little hot box and up my bunghole. Way far deep in me when Willie lets go. I can feel his come riding up his shaft and busting out his big ol' turnip-head. It makes me all hot inside and squeezes down on my stomach and my tits. And then it lets go, leaving me limp. I just sorta sag.
"I couldn't kick up my heels and jump around the way them mares do. Not for nothing. I just want to lie there, feeling Willie's pecker go down and slip outa my bunghole. And it's a pee-stick again, limp and awful little after all that asshole fucking.
"Willie pats me on the shoulder and says, 'You done real good, Anna. Real good. It's the best thing you ever done. And done perfect. And when we do it next time, I know a better place.'
"I shake my head. 'No you don't, Willie. Not in my front hole. Mom says ... '
"Willie puts his hand over my mouth. 'Not a better place on you. Just a better spot. Know that old cabin up on the south ridge? Well, I got a big bed up there. Bigger than mom's bed and real bouncy soft.'
"I roll over and look at him. 'Willie, where'd you steal a bed?' Only he swears he didn't steal it. Just found it, after one of them tourists with a bright orange trailer bounced it off near Fallon's Creek. So I tell him I'll go look. And he wants to know, right away quick. 'Tomorrow?' So I say, 'Tomorrow,' and sort of drowse off."
Anna's case almost defies analysis, in the general terms of psychiatry. Her I.Q. is very low, near moron, even though she is able, in spurts, to verbalize quite clearly and at very graphic length. Her imagery is generally limited to what she has actually seen. She cannot project beyond her actual experience. And often cannot remember whole segments of her life.
In her several sessions, Anna has just about completely reconstructed the major episode of her somewhat chaotic career in heterosexual anal coitus, her initial seduction. At least, we must assume it is her initial seduction. So far as she can recall-and an examination of Willie tends to confirm it-the incident occurred substantially as she reported it. (This version is a condensation of several very long, rambling accounts, all essentially the same.)
Later events that were crowded into a very short space of time, actual events intermingled with fantasizing, such as a wholly imaginary anal intercourse with the Archangel Michael, tend to become confused in the relating.
In all probability, Anna had anal coitus with someone named Michael. Among her rather astonishingly long list of "patrons" it would be odd if one were not named Michael. It is conceivable that this patron wore some shiny garment or even a very white linen suit that Anna, in her mental state and sexual excitation, trans muted into the shining armor of Saint Michael.
Or it could have been sheer fantasizing. In Anna's mental state, under the provocation of violent sexual reaction, it is not at all un-likely that she would hallucinate.
One rather odd aspect of Anna's accounts of her fornications and fellatio experiences is the almost utter blanks she apparently draws when discussing the other patrons. Willie and Kru, her brothers, seem very clear and substantial figures in her accounts. The others are at best extremely hazy. Except, of course, for the hallucinatory figure of Saint Michael.
This haziness may be explained in part by the possible realization that to them her body was being peddled. Anna's rationalizations are by no means clear nor can they be said to follow any particular pattern. However, from her other remarks and her complete and literal adherence to her mother's admonitions about fornication, it is a reasonably safe assumption that Anna had some similar stricture against what, in her terminology, would be whoring, even though she didn't truly consider anal coitus as sexual intercourse.
Her brothers, Willie and Kru, but particularly Willie, brought these patrons to Anna, providing her with a "big, bouncy bed" on which to perform her acts. Thus the patrons were acceptable. They were provided by Willie. Or Kruger.
However, Anna does appear to have a block against remembering any of them. This is not, it would seem, a traumatic block, brought on by some violent action of any one of her patrons. It appears to be a general mental block against the status of the men and boys as "not relatives," without having to admit, even to herself, that she was serving her patrons for pay-or, in her association of ideas, "whoring."
Anna appears to have compartmentalized her mental activities, perhaps because of her own recognition of her limitations. These "not relatives" who used her appear to have been segregated into one of her limited mental compartments as something not to be recalled. Anna seemingly has no recollection of the names of any of them, except for the hallucinatory Archangel Michael.
Anna's mother, a large, competent and sensible woman, is troubled about that exception. She suspects that this figure represents someone who had normal uterogenital sex with Anna, creating excitements and tensions beyond her usual reactions to fellatio and anal coitus.
Her suspicions are not borne out. Physical examination has demonstrated with reasonable certainty that Anna has never performed the sex act in the normal uterogenital manner.
Can Anna be helped by psychiatric treatment? Only to a very limited degree. Her I.Q. is far too low for such sustained concentration. Hypnotic reorientation might conceivably be some minor help. However, Anna is not suffering from any trauma or even a guilt complex. She obeyed her mother's instructions to the letter. She responded to an older brother's instructions without any apparent trauma or guilt feelings, probably because she believed she was also keeping within the bounds of her mother's instruction, which did not cover anal coitus (in Anna's estimation, aided by Willie's statements).
Will the State (Anna calls it "county," which represents govern mental authority to her) arrange for a hysterectomy? It is doubtful, since her health is not imperiled, though Anna may have overheard some discussion of the possibility. She will, of course, be confined to some institution for her own protection and for such psychiatric care as she can absorb.
In discussing how to reduce or nullify sexual drive in the neurotic, psychotic or mentally disturbed who have excessive sex drive or where neurosis or psychosis is due to excessive sex drive, Professor Charles Samson Fere says: "Castration in which he includes female castration, hysterectomy does not completely annul sexual desire." In fact, as he cites in numerous cases, such surgical castration often stimulates sexual activities. So it is most un-likely that Anna actually heard plans to remove her sex organs. This again may have been pure hallucination, coupled with guilt complex in which she fancied she should be thus mutilated as punishment.
We continue now with her narrative:
"I kinda liked what Willie did, even if it wasn't fucking for real. It sure seemed real. And it left me kinda tired out and drawed, as my granny used to says. See, mister, I do remember things. Sometimes sudden-like-just like that. I remember my granny. She's gone now. Just sort of curled up and died. Kinda blew away, Maw said. Like foofaraw dust.
"That was when paw was still alive and kicking. Only he didn't really kick nobody. It was the stallion that kicked him. He died from that kick the stallion gave him.
"Oh, about Willie? Well, he went away that first night with his head poking over the rim of the ladder like a moon over South Dead Man Mountain, saying in a sort of heavy whisper that I wasn't to say nothing to Mom about being screwed in my bunghole. 'Cause it was a little like cheating on regular screwing, and Mom wouldn't like me cheating, any more'n she'd like me fucking for real in my little pussy and getting a baby or maybe twins like my oldest sister did. But that's all right. She's married. And just in time, too, Willie said.
"Only I don't see it like that. She was married wasn't she, when the twins came? That's plenty of time. Not like Daisy down the road. She didn't get married till little Butsy was near a year old and her paw had caught up with Clem who had gone off to the marines, and no denying he was Butsy's paw 'cause Butsy looked jus' like him.
"About Willie and me? Oh, yeah. You kinda threw me off for a minute, asking about the twins. Oh, you didn't? Well it was maybe a couple of days later. Daytime, too. Willie took me up on the south ridge where Hangin' Joe P-used to live before he got hanged so many times. That's why they call him 'Hangin' Joe.' The way I hear it, the lynching party had to hang him three times before he'd stay dead. For raping a couple of kids when he was drunk. Or maybe it was when he was sober, which wasn't often, the way I hear it.
"Anyway, Hangin' Joe is long; gone dead, but there's his cabin that nobody don't want, like they're afraid maybe hangin' is catchin'. Willie has got it fixed up pretty nice, with the big double bed he found off'n the tourist's trailer and burlap sacks for curtains and even a pot for making coffee and a pan for frying bacon and grits. Like Willie said, the bed is nice and bouncy. I am trying it out when Willie pushes at me and I topple over, legs waving and my privates showing 'cause I ain't got any panties.
"Willie smacks me real sharp on my butt and says, 'Don't forget why we come here-to do a little bunghole screwing.'
"Sure. I remember. And I tell him so. Only I don't really feel like we're even bunghole fucking right then. I mean, I ain't worked up to it, like Willie done that night he started me on it.
"Willie sorta seen how I felt and started loving me up, running his hand up my dress and playing with my boobies and teasing my nipples. I lay very still, just letting things happen. They kind of happen faster and nicer that way, I found out. Then Willie pulled up my dress, way up around my waist, and just leans over, looking at my fur box and kind of drooling. 'It's sure gonna taste nice. It sure is.'
"I put my hand over my box and shake my head. 'You ain't going in there, Willie. That's fucking for real. You're just bunghole fucking me. Remember? Mom ain't gonna like it if I get a baby.'
"Willie just kind of nods and pulls my dress up over my tits. It sort of hampers me seeing, so I slide out, lying there naked, with my tits pointing straight up and my nipples already swelling. I like my tits. I like to play with 'em myself sometimes. It gets 'em swelled up and my nipples get tight. And I get sort of stirred up inside. But it's not as much fun as when Willie plays with 'em. Then they get hard quick and things stir up awful fast.
"My little pussy is already opening up, letting Willie's fingers walk right in, rummaging around in there and getting wet from my oozings. My box is getting so wet the ooze runs down the crack of my ass, right on to my bunghole.
"Willie has got out of his overalls and denim shirt by now and is naked as a jaybird. Then Willie pulled me over to the side of the big bed and told me to kneel on the floor while he knelt right between my legs, sticking the head of his pee-stick right up against my bunghole, and working back and forth, hanging on to my boobs. Only his pee-stick is now a big pecker with a turnip-head.
"He rubs that a couple of times over my wet pussy, until I tell him he ain't supposed to go in there. Mom won't like it. He says he's just wetting his pecker so it'll go in my ass easier. And then he does. Go in, I mean. I can feel that wet ol' turnip-headed pecker go in and start up my insides like I ain't got nothing in the way.
"He just rams on in. It kinda hurts, only it don't. Know what I mean? No, I guess you don't, not being a girl. Well, it's like this. I can feel the hurt of his pecker going up me, but it's so stirry and churny inside that I like it.
"And when he rams back and in, back and in, hanging on to my boobs and pulling me to him, I can feel the swell of his meat way far up my bunghole, sliding and rubbing. And I can feel it way up front, too. Way up my pussy. Almost like Willie is really in my pussy. Only I know he ain't, specially since he lets go one tit and starts playing around inside my pussy with his finger.
"That makes everything get up real tight, like the time my kid brother, Joe, wound up the alarm clock so tight it went 'spang' and busted, and we had to get up by sun time till somebody could get down to Harper's General Store and get a new one.
"So I'm all wound up, ready to bust loose and fling things all around the room. Or it feels like it. Only I know I won't. People don't throw springs and wheels and gears when they get wound up too tight.
"But I am getting real excited about how far up me Willie is pushing his pecker-so far I can just about taste it. And maybe he is ramming it that far up. It scares me, so I ask him. Willie just grunts, 'No!' and bangs harder. And wiggles his finger inside my pussy. And squeezes down on one of my boobs.
"And then everything lets go inside me. I feel Willie's pecker swell way up, pumping stuff far up my bunghole, somewhere up maybe near my belly button. Or even higher. And my bunghole is chewing at his pecker like it knows what to do without even me telling it. I am dribbling hot ooze outa my hot box and wiggling my butt so hard I nearly push Willie off me.
"He don't care, because he tells me he has shot his wad anyhow. I can feel his pecker slipping outa my bunghole, even if I try to hold it. It's gone down pretty near to pee-stick size again and ain't much good for bunghole fucking or any other kind. Still, Willie is nice to me. He pets me and rubs my tits and holds his hand over my little pussy and helps me kinda slow down gradual from the big spin I'm in.
"If bunghole fucking ain't for real, I'm glad I ain't letting any boy get into my pussy because that would be for real and so exciting maybe I couldn't stand it and really would bust. And I liked being around, specially when Willie sort of pets me up and rubs my body and puts his hand between my legs like he's protecting my pussy with a lid. Except one finger is tapping up inside and getting me stirred up again, like I'd enjoy more bunghole fucking, even if it ain't for real.
"'Long about then the door of the cabin busts in and there is Kruger, my next oldest brother, glaring at us.
"He comes over to the bed, still glaring. 'I figgered this was what you was up to, so I foller you. Ain't you 'shamed, Anna, fucking Willie when Mom's told you, you ain't suppose to screw?'
"I sit up. 'Honest, Kru. We ain't fucking fdr real. It's just bunghole fucking, like for pretend. You try it, and you'll see it ain't for real.'
"I can look right at Kruger's overalls, where his pee-stick is and see it is bigger than mostly. I point at it. 'Your pee-stick's just about ready for it. So...."
"Kru looks at me and licks his chops and nods. 'Well, when you put it like that...." And shrugs outa his overalls. Kru ain't even got a denim shirt on, so he's naked all in one motion, with his pee-stick swelled up to real pecker size. He grins at Willie and says, 'Move over, big brother, and let somebody screw what can screw, bunghole or no.'
"Willie sort of grumbles but he moves over. 'This here is my bed and I fixed up this cabin for special company. And you ain't it.'
"Kru just grinned then. 'Yeah, for Alma. Only she won't play, so you take on Anna. I know what goes on. And I'm moving in. Okay with you, Willie?'
"Just like I don't have any say in it-and it's my bunghole. At least I make sure Kru understands. 'Not in my box, because that's fucking for real and Mom won't like it. But if you just go in my bunghole..."
"Almost before I know it, Kru has me sitting in his lap on the edge of the bed, and his pecker, which is just about the same size as Willie's, is tapping at my bunghole. Then it's sliding in. He's easier on my bunghole than Willie-or maybe Willie sort of loosened things up for him.
"I like Kru's way. I can watch everything that goes on, even when Kru gets his pecker pretty deep in my bunghole. And he likes to suck on my tits, which is real exciting even if they ain't any milk in 'em. And I'm going all through it again and having a haymow load of fun getting bungholed.
"Even if it ain't fucking for real, it's perty dern good and I like it. Getting it twice by two different boys in one afternoon is plenty fun. I don't even mind when Willie, who has quit sulking, says: 'Maybe we can all have fun together. Like one of us will suck her off while the other bungholes her. Huh?'
"Kru has just finished shooting his load way up my ass and we're sort of resting while his pecker drops back to pee-stick size and slides out. He looks at Willie. 'Or maybe she'll suck one of us off while the other bungholes her? How's that?'
"Willie shakes his head. 'She ain't up to sucking yet. Maybe later. She'd more'n likely bite it off, getting excited the way she does.' Just like I ain't there and don't know what they're talking about. I look at Kru. 'What you talking about it?'
"Kru grins at Willie. 'Maybe we better show her. It's easier to explain that way.'
"So they show me. Or start to. I look up at Willie and shake my finger. 'This ain't just a trick to get some real fucking in my pussy?' 'Cause it's starting to look that way, the way they're setting me up.
"Being as Willie's pee-stick has got back to pecker size, he decided he better be the one to bunghole me. So he tells me for sure we ain't gonna do no real fucking in my fur box. I am just to sit down on his pecker, but facing away from him, and then lay back on his stomach.
"I do and Kru is right there, on the opposite side of the bed, already starting to play with my boobies and suck at my nipples, whilst Willie is playing his hands over my belly and thighs, getting me really worked up. Then Kru leans way over, running his tongue down my stomach and right into my little pussy. He plays with the lips of my pussy till he's got it wide open, then he is running his tongue deep inside, getting me so tight that I mighty nigh can't breathe. And all the time Willie is reaming my ass, driving his big pecker up and down.
"Kru's pee-stick is hanging right over my face and I can see it swell up to pecker size, getting a big turnip-bulb on the end. And he is pushing his tongue hard into my gash and licking at my ooze that's really spouting. And I can see juice already starting" to drip from his pecker.
"I reach for it and pull it to my mouth so I can taste his juice, because it smells exciting. And tastes exciting, too. First thing I know I've got it in my mouth and Kru is pumping on it to drive it down my throat. At first I don't want it, and then, as things get tighter inside and threaten to blow off, I'm ready. And let him drive it down my throat, feeling the bulb slide in and tasting the thing all the way down, just like I can feel Willie's pecker way up my bunghole right now.
"So I am getting screwed three ways, in my bunghole, in my mouth and down in my pussy by Kru's tongue. And none of 'em is for real. So Mom can't really mind.
"I just laid back and enjoyed it. It was fine. And it all comes to a big winding excitement that lets go, first Kru into my mouth, where I can really taste his juice for sure, and then me letting go down at my pussy while Kru gobbles at my ooze, and then Willie exploding his load up in my bunghole. Then we all three lay back, just enjoying what's happened and breathing heavy, until I fall asleep.
"When I wake up, I hear Kru say, 'Look, we got a good thing here. This cabin. Anna. And all the boys who been watching her grow up with their tongues hanging out for a piece of tail. And then there's the tourists, the ones that come up here to fish and just lay around knocking back booze and playing cards. Some of them would put out nice dough for a piece of what we got.'
"So that gets us started on a sort of regular thing, me slipping off at night with either Kru or Willie and sneaking up to the cabin. That's when we'd peep in windows and see how other folks fucked, most of 'em the for real way, with the guy's pecker in the woman's pussy-hole. Only some of the females had a real lot of fur on their box. Not just a kind of fuzz like mine.
"And up at the cabin we'd meet some guys. Sometimes only one, sometimes as many as four or five. Once I think it was six. I didn't mind. One or several, it was fun, sometimes more fun if there were more. Only sometimes I'd get real sleepy if there were a lot of 'em and go drowsing off right while they were bunghole fucking. Or sucking me off.
"It was one of those times that Saint Michael came to screw me. I'd just sort of woke up from letting four or five guys do it and there was Saint Michael, all shiny and white, with his pecker in his hand, saying he was going to bunghole me. I don't know how I knew he was Saint Michael. I don't rightly know that he told me. I just knew. And I let him do it to me and then I went back to sleep, kinda tired.
"I get tired easy when several guys screw me in the rear or suck me off or have me suck on their peckers. But now that Mom's gonna have the county fix me so I can't have babies, maybe I can go back and really screw. You think so?"
CONCLUSION
In the five cases cited here we find a reasonably full range of causative relationships between heterosexual anal coitus and the various elements that preconditioned the subjects.
These elements range from Eloise's rather vague and belated fear of pregnancy to the gang-rape of Alice, covering such elements as the near frigidity of Rita coupled with her greed for money and glamour, the curious seduction of Tina by her friend, Wanda, for the use of Wanda's brother, and to the mentally retarded Anna, who could remember one rule her mother laid down.
Except for the use of anal coitus as a variant between normal heterosexual lovers from which they may derive immense satisfaction while recognizing it as a variant, along with fellatio and other variants, the sole reliance for sex gratification on heterosexual anal coitus carries a built-in guilt complex often as great or greater than the causative preconditioning.
In almost every instance, psychiatric treatment is indicated for a complete release from the thrall of anal coitus.
It cannot be made too clear here that there is nothing inherently "wrong" with heterosexual anal coitus, although obsession with it, to the exclusion of other forms of sex, can be seriously damaging. Just as there is certainly nothing "wrong" with eating, yet obsession with eating and the resulting overeating can be quite harmful.
So this book is not a condemnation of heterosexual anal coitus per se. it is, however, seriously concerned with anal coitus when it reaches the proportions of an obsession. At that point the practitioner should seek aid, either from his or her own inner strength or from outside sources, such as psychiatry In poor Anna's case, however, even psychiatry cannot help, except in a very minor way. Anna does not have the mentality capable of absorbing psychiatric treatment. Others are more fortunate and can, if they so determine, obtain help for a more balanced and healthful sex life.
