He still had plenty of other little tortures yet in store for me. Spreading my ass cheeks widely part, he began to tongue my anus. That was pleasant enough. But when he shoved a finger deeply into my ass, and then another, and another, and still another, I began to shriek with horror.
He had all of his fingers, including his thumb, jammed up into my ass. I was nearly crippled from all the pain. It was overwhelming. He pressed harder still, and his entire hand, up to the wrist, passed into my ass.
It was monstrous. I could barely deal with it.
In and out of my rectum, he pushed and pulled his hand. It was a terrible pain. It was much more than I could even begin to deal with.
It was a tragic, burning, hideous pain. I wanted to be dead, rather than to have to endure more of it.
I considered suicide. Not right then and there - which would be impossible, because of my bound condition.
No, I was thinking about later. I was thinking about how nice it would be to have an end put to my misery. Just to die. It seemed sweet.
Finally, the perverse Jap pulled his hand out of my ass. He was on top of me. My legs were bound tightly together, so I knew it was going to be a rough, painful, and unholy experience.
He shoved his dong, like a huge sausage, into the crack of my ass. He worked it back and forth.
He touched the tip of his rod to my anus.
A sharp pain pressed through me. He shoved his meat stick slowly up my ass.
CHAPTER ONE
It all began in the beginning, of course. I didn't mean that to sound silly. I'm referring to the rather freakish course my sexual life has taken. In beginning this journal, or diary, I want to learn, somehow, why. I want to learn the why about many things - but most particularly my sexuality. At twenty-five, I feel it's time to take a good look at my life. I know that I'm different from others. I'm not so sure it's bad, at least in some respects. In fact, it might be better. But now with my sexuality. I don't think I'm enjoying my sexuality as a woman, not the way I could.
My sexuality developed rather early, I think. At least I was aware of sexual thoughts when I was quite young. I was aware of a curiosity about my genitals, and breasts. It was as if, somehow, I knew that I was all the things a woman was - only I was still a little girl. It was as if I remembered what it was like to be a woman.
I never thought much about reincarnation. I never studied it, or anything like that. But I have strange recollections, at times. Especially in my dreams.
Up until I was around five, I don't think I really centered my attention specifically on my genitals. I was aware of them, and enjoyed touching them, I recall. But I didn't start masturbating, until I was seven. I know now that it is precocious to be able to orgasm at such an early age. I guess I was precocious. Or I remembered how It was, from some earlier life as a woman.
I've lately been reading some of the things Freud said about adolescent sexuality. In his view, we are born with sexuality. It is part of our genetic coding.
I can remember it all so vividly. Lying in my bed, at seven, in my cotton nightie, with my dolls and stuffed animals about me - like a family of true friends. I would hug my dolls and stuffed toys closely to my bosom, caressing them, making love with them, really.
There were very strong bonds there. The inanimate creatures had such life for me.
I had two favorites, really. There was a little blonde doll, with blue eyes, and little breasts. I liked her very much. To my childish mind, she was so very real. I loved her, I suppose.
Her name was Annie. I loved holding her naked body close to mine. Her cold, plastic flesh became warm from pressing against me. I felt maternal about her, I suppose. But in a sexual way. Always in a sexual way.
I liked to stroke Annie's hair, and touch her little breasts. It excited me. It made me feel good. I kept a stuffed panda near me on the other, side. I liked being between these two. They were opposite trips for me, really. On one side was the warm, stuffed bear, and then there was Annie. She was like a fairy princess for me.
When I was around seven, I began playing with myself. I imagined it was Annie, really.
I can recall exactly how it went, and how it felt. Clutching at Annie with one arm, I would reach beneath my nightie, and touch my vagina. I would work my fingers slowly over my pussy, spreading my lips open, and working my fingers slowly over my clitoris and inner lips.
I wasn't sure, when I was seven, what I was supposed to be feeling. I mean, I had never read a book about female orgasms, or talked to girls who had been orgasmic. All those young girls were just that - young girls. I was like a woman trapped in a young girl's body.
My hairless young vagina felt a great deal differently than my grown-up pussy does.
I would press my finger slowly into my pussy, feeling the warm juices trickle over my digits. I would begin to explore the depths of my vaginal vault. I didn't want to puncture my hymen. I was very carefully about not pushing through it. It was instinctive. I didn't really know that anything lay behind the virginal sheath, I thought that was it.
What a surprise and a treat, when it was later opened up - like a secret cave, leading to a hid den treasure. Pressing my finger shallowly into my pussy, and rubbing up against my young clitoris, I could feel waves of passion working through me. My groin became hot, and ached with sexual happiness and a promise of fulfillment.
I was totally alive with this glory. It was a discovery. It was an adventure. It was most of all a great mystery. I sensed that there were many things to discover about myself: about my pussy, and my breasts, and my little asshole.
There were many nights when I would lie in bed until early in the morning, playing with myself. Holding Annie tightly to my breast, I would rub my clitoris until it was raw. Those delicious feelings, naive orgasms, were so splendid. Masturbating became like a hobby. I explored all sorts of fantasies.
Mostly, I went into fairy tales. While I played with myself, clutching my doll to me, and feeling Panda's warm presence nearby, it felt so nice to pull at my little clit. I could feel the pounding of the promise of orgasm. It was so near to me.
Again and again those little feelings would erupt in my vagina. My clitoris would grow firm, and throb. It was all so exciting, thrilling, and wonderful. With my young legs spread widely, I would rub my clitoris, and probe my young vagina. And when my pussy was sore, I would press a finger into my rear, and play with that opening.
This all corresponded, I suppose, with the stage of love that Freud called self love. I guess I really was in love with myself. I certainly liked to make love to myself. In a way, I'm glad I went through that stage, so intensely. It taught me to love myself. After I became tired of loving just me, I was able to love others.
Many people, I think, are unable to love others, because they are still, in love with themselves. They are masturbators, at heart.
I was around eight, when I had my first contact with others. It was an early age. And Fm sorry, really that it happened. It's rather marred my sexual development. I'm only now beginning to see my way out of these darkened, sexual woods.
It was all my parent's fault. I don't mean that as a joke. It's all very true.
My parents were going away for a long weekend, up to Boston, to visit some friends from college. We don't have any relatives in New York. They're all in Kansas. That's where my mother and father are from. They grew up there. They were childhood sweethearts.
So, they had me stay with Sally and Irv Green. The Greens are good friends of theirs. They don't have any children of their own. They were always nice to me, bringing me little gifts every time they came to visit.
I thought it would be like a vacation for me to stay with them for four days. It was a trip all right. It happened that first night. I'll never forget it for as long as I live.
They won't either, I'm sure.
I helped Sally with dinner. I wasn't bad in the kitchen, even when I was a kid. My mother taught me a lot about cooking.
I liked looking at Sally. She was blonde, blue-eyed, and very tall. She was a model. In a lot of ways, Sally reminded me of my doll, Annie. Only much bigger.
I felt a certain sexual attraction towards Sally. I won't deny it. She was so lovely, and had nice clothes. She was like a princess. I felt wonderful in her presence. I really did. "You're really a lot of help to me," she said, smiling, looking down at me.
"I like to help out in the kitchen," I said.
"Someday, you're going to grow up to be a very special woman," Sally said.
"Like you," I said.
"Aren't you the little diplomat?" she laughed.
"What's that - is it bad?"
"No, it's not bad at all," she said. "In fact, it's necessary in this life. Getting through life is very much like playing the jester in the court of this king or that emperor." I liked that allusion. It made me think of the olden days, of the fairy tales. Of me being a princess. Sally was like a queen, and I was the young fairy princess. I wanted to grow up to be just like her.
I moved close to her in the kitchen, and put my arms, around her. My head came to just about her navel. I recall feeling the warmth of her groin, through her skirt, against my throat and chest.
"You are such a wonderful little girl," she said. "Would you like to sleep in the big bed tonight, with Irv and I?"
"Gee, I would like that a lot," I said.
My parents never let me sleep with them. I didn't know why. I hadn't fully realized yet about sex - I mean about men and women together.
Irv was a lot different from my father. He was fair haired, a lot like Sally, in many ways. He kept to himself somewhat. He was a writer I think. He had a study in their apartment, where he was working on a novel.
I think Sally resented the amount of time he spent on his own. Perhaps that's why she so much liked me to be near her.
I certainly liked to be near her. She was so beautiful - just like the kind of woman I wanted to be when I grew up.
My parents were a handsome couple as well. There would have been nothing wrong with wanting to grow up to be like my mother (which I would, anyway), but all kids seem to want to have other people for parents. I think it's just a stage.
After dinner, I watched television for awhile with Sally and Irv. Then he started to yawn. I knew he wasn't really tired. It was just a ploy, so that we could all end up in bed together.
Even at eight, I sensed what was happening. I was no fool.
I didn't fight it, though. I didn't fight any of it. It all seemed so natural. I went up to the bedroom with them. In my little girl's mind, they were like the prince and the princess.
"We sleep in the nude," Sally smiled. "Would you like to join us?"
"It's a warm night," Irv said. "Besides, it's so much more natural this way."
I told them it sounded like fun - like a great adventure. I like great adventures. I thought it would be like camping out.
I sat on the edge of the bed watching them undress. It was very exciting. My parents never let me see their naked bodies. Sally and Irv were not modest at all. They were both so beautiful. It was a real education for me to watch them undress.
Sally was even more beautiful with her clothes off. Her long blonde hair nearly reached to her waist when she took it out of her bun. Her breasts were full, but very firm. Her legs were just about the most beautiful part of her. They were very long, and shapely, and they graduated pleasingly into her gently curving, firm ass. Her tummy was flat, just like mine, and over her beautiful vagina sprouted a bush of nearly white pubes.
She was delicious, ravishing to look upon. She truly excited me.
Irv was as handsome as his wife was beautiful. He was built like Tarzan, with well developed muscles, and yellow hairs growing over his chest, and arms. It was the first time I had ever seen a male organ. It looked strange to me, like a snake.
"Aren't you going to get undressed?" Sally asked.
I stood, and removed my dress, panties, shoes and socks. I wasn't at all embarrassed. It all seemed right.
"You are such a cute little girl," Sally said. "Isn't she just adorable, Irv?"
"She is that," he said, taking the woman in his arms, and looking at me. "Maybe we should have a little girl?"
"Why should we?" she asked. "We can always have Deborah come to visit. Would you like to visit us often, Debbie?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Deb, you truly are a great lady. Let's all get into bed together. Do you want to be in the middle?"
"Yes."
It was a big bed, and there was plenty of room for all of us. I could feel the heat of their naked bodies against mine. It was a great deal, I recognized even then, like lying between Annie and Panda. Only Irv and Sally were much bigger, and they were real.
"Do you know anything about sex?" Sally asked, with a very warm, friendly smile.
"I've played with myself," I admitted.
"You're a good girl," Irv said. "You are going to grow up to be a very sensuous woman."
Sally turned me towards her. "I really like you," she smiled. "Would you like to kiss me?"
"Yes," I said.
We kissed softly. I held her tightly to me. My tongue pressed slowly into her mouth. It was so warm and friendly. I snuggled up against her. I could feel her breasts pressing against me. They were warm and firm. Her nipples were erect, and truly delighted me as they touched my own nipples.
I wanted to suck at her breasts. And so I did.
She liked that a lot.
It was a strange feeling - like going back into infancy. I lay in her arms, and kissed her[ tenderly, passionately on the mouth. Our tongues worked slowly, delightfully together. I took one nipple into my mouth, sucking at it passionately, and then the other.
I could feel a swelling, and a passion in one breast, and then the other. It was as if somehow by sucking on her breasts, my own became excited.
Sally took me tightly in her arms, and rolled me over on my back. She was kissing me passionately all over the face, licking my eye lids, and running her tongue slowly down my nose, to my nostrils.
It excited me when she ran the tip of her tongue into my nostrils. She kissed me tenderly on the mouth. Her tongue slowly pressed into my mouth. I sucked at it. I felt a warm glow work through me.
I wanted to please Sally. I felt like a little girl, who wanted, needed to show respect and admiration for her elders.
She took my nipples in her mouth, and sucking at them, I was aware of wonderful feelings throughout my body. It was strange, because I had not yet begun to develop as a woman. And yet all the sensations were there.
I looked over at Irv. He had a strange, intense look on his face. It frightened me in a way. It was only his sexual excitement, but I had never seen a man in such a state before. It was very strange to me.
He had a firm grip on his penis. It was no longer a limp little snake. It stood tall, and straight. It was red, rather than pink. It was so huge. I felt a twinge of fear.
That was soon forgotten, however, as Sally kissed her way down across my belly, to my crotch. She ran her fingers slowly over my bald mound, spreading my vaginal lips apart, and running her tongue over my pussy.
"Does that feel good?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied, "It feels wonderful."
I couldn't believe the wonderful feelings that were working through my genitals. It was so much like magic. I was so very filled with delightful sensations, I just couldn't believe it.
I spread my legs widely, and just relaxed. My eyes were shut. It was like being in a dream. I was floating, spinning, feeling free and wonderful. The sensations that worked through my body were just magical.
It was a great deal different than when I played with myself. It was different, altogether.
Sally's tongue pressed into my vagina. I could feel the tip of her tongue pressing up against my cherry. A gentle, throbbing pleasure worked through me. When she took my clitoris into her mouth, and began to suck at it, it was as though she was sucking all my energy up through my body, from my toes, to the top of my head.
She rubbed her fingers gently over my nipples, pulling at them, while her mouth ministered to my youthful vagina.
It was as though I were floating atop a magic carpet. I was high in the sky, dwelling in a land of dreams and pleasures. I was completely engulfed in this pleasure.
The tongue flicked against my clit, while her long, shapely finger pressed slowly into my anus. I could feel the tight grip of my anus on her finger. It was a delicious feeling to have her finger in my ass, while her mouth ministered so lovingly to my vagina.
I could feel the orgasm begin to swell in my groin. I could feel the tension begin to build. I was hot. I was going to come. That's for sure. I was going to really let the old pleasures flow.
I was so very young, and yet, I felt so grown up.
I orgasmed. It was so much nicer than when I did it to myself. I never thought it would be like that.
My entire body pulsated hotly. From head to toe, every nerve ending in my body jingled with joy. It was flowing smoothly, lovingly. My entire body felt as if it was glowing, warm with loving fulfillment.
I held her head tightly down against my vagina. Her hair felt like spun gold beneath my fingers. I imagined Sally was an elf queen, and the wonderful orgasm she was delivering to me, was pure magic.
It was like a dream. It was so soft, and yet so overwhelming. I groaned with hot pleasure as the orgasm worked through me. My entire body pulsated to the rhythm of the orgasm. It was as if I were in flight, with the aid of angel wings.
I finally had had enough. The pleasure was becoming too intense. It was overly focused in my pussy. I couldn't deal with it. It became like pain.
I pushed Sally's face away from my pussy.
"Did you like that?" she asked. "It didn't frighten you?"
"No, not at all," I said. "I liked it very much."
"I'm so glad," she said.
I looked over at Irv. He still was moving his hand up and down his stiffened phallus. He had that curious look on his face.
"Would you like to do for me what I did for you?" Sally asked.
"Yes," I said.
"You're a good girl," Sally said, as she rolled over on her back.
I moved up against her body, holding her tightly to me. It was just like being with a large Annie. It was so nice. I took her breast in my mouth, and kissed it tenderly all over.
I took her nipple into my mouth, and sucked at it, and then switched to the other nipple. I sucked until both nipples were fully erect.
"You make me feel so nice," Sally sighed, as she spread her legs widely apart, and worked .her fingers through my dark curls.
I kissed my way down across her firm body to her mound of Venus. I tried to do to her, what she had done to me.
I spread her lovely labial lips open, and peered into the darkly pink fuck flesh.
It was so moistened and warm, it thrilled me very much.
I liked the texture of her blonde pubic hair. It felt like golden down against my fingers, lips, and cheek.
The fragrance of her vagina was sweet, like perfume. There was a humid heat about her pussy. I ran - the tip of my tongue over her inner lips. She began lubricating. Her pussy juices were warm, and thrilled me. I flicked my tongue about on her pussy, and probed her hole. It was warm and tight. My tongue worked continuously in and out of her pussy hole.
I nibbled on her clitoris. It was firm and pulsating in my mouth. I pressed a finger slowly up into her pussy, and then up into her anus. I continued to suck on her vagina.
The juices were warm. I slurped them up.
Sally was beginning to pump up against my mouth. I could taste her hot vaginal juices, and I willingly swallowed them. She was so hot between the thighs. I had a sense of her sexual urgency.
I figured that was something that would - come later in life - that sense of urgency. The disbelief in pleasure. It was as if Sally was afraid she wouldn't achieve that supreme pleasure. It was as if she didn't believe that it would all be true, real.
I can understand that feeling now that I am older. There's a certain amount of faith, which seems to fly away, as one grows older.
Sally spread her legs widely. I held her pussy lips apart, and worked my tongue slowly over her pussy. My finger was pressed up her anus. I finger-fucked her ass, while I sucked at her clitoris. The feeling was nice. I could feel the knob of magic flesh pulsate in my mouth. Something was going to happen. I could tell. I could feel it.
My vagina was hot. It was on fire. And no one was even touching it. It was as though there was a transference of pleasure. Her pleasure was my pleasure.
"Oh, you sweet, darling angel," she moaned, "you are going to make me come. I am almost there. I am going to feel complete fulfillment. I am going to discharge."
I moved my hands over the softness of her inner thighs, while I sucked at her vagina. I was making her feel good. I was delighting her. I pressed my tongue slowly up into her gash. I worked it about, and then taking her throbbing clit between my lips, I pulled at it, nibbled at it, and used my teeth gently on it.
She was burning up with passion. She was entirely alive with the hot moment of ecstasy.
Sally's clitoris was so much bigger than mind. My clit is like a little button. Hers is more like a little penis. It must have been about three inches long, when it was fully erect.
It was intense, and interesting to feel it in my mouth. It reminded me of a little cocktail sausage.
It began to throb as she orgasmed. Her clit shook in my mouth, she howled with delight, and I continued to work my mouth over it.
"Oh, darling," she moaned, "you delight me so. You really thrill me, stimulate me, overwhelm me."
She was shaking all over, pumping, moaning, lost in lust.
After her orgasm had run its course, she was still hot.
I was pretty hot myself. I was just eight, but in so many ways I felt like a woman. I was partly responsible for all that happened that long weekend. I cannot shirk the sense of my responsibility.
After I had made Sally come, she rolled me over on my back, and with Irv hungrily looking on, she mounted me.
It felt strange to have a woman lying atop me. She pressed her groin against mine, and worked her pussy against me. It felt hot and wet.
Her clitoris was still swollen, and I was amazed that it seemed to work like a little penis.
It slid against my clit, and then entered my hole.
It was a perfect fit, as the swollen clitoris just barely fit inside my vagina. I felt it press up against my hymen. There was a warm glow all over me. My body was hot with pleasure and with lust.
I felt her swollen clitoris working in and out of my vagina. It pressed up against my cherry, and warmed me through and through. My body tingled all over.
It was the first time that anything, other than a clitoris had been inside my pussy. I should correct that, though. I used to use Annie's hand and forearm inside my pussy. It was about the same size as Sally's swollen clit, but I much preferred the sensation of true flesh.
Sally was getting all hot and excited again. Her swollen clit was like a penis as it worked continuously in and out of my vagina.
I could tell by her heavy breathing, that she was getting excited again - that she was going to come.
I suddenly felt her clit move out of my pussy.
Sally-turned me over on my belly. I didn't know what she was trying to do. I couldn't imagine.
I was on my belly, and she had my ass cheeks spread widely. She moved her mouth over the soft, firm surface of my eight-year-old ass. It was exciting. She blew warm air down on my anus, and then kissed my little hole tenderly. She ran her tongue slowly into my anus. It was a thrilling sensation. My entire body glowed with warm pleasure as the sensation of her tongue in my ass stimulated me - excited me.
I was amazed how deeply she was able to probe my anus. It felt as if her tongue had reached all the way into my rectum. But I think that was just a sensation. I think the nervous impulses ran all the way up my bowel.
Sally moved her loving tongue slowly from my anus. I didn't know what was going to happen next. She lay atop me. I could feel the warmth of her pussy pressing against my ass. It was a nice feeling. The soft blonde pubes rubbed gently against me, like a warm breeze blowing.
Then she spread my ass globes apart; I could feel her swollen clitoris press up against my anus. It was slowly entering my hole. It felt nice. Stiff and small, it fit nicely inside my behind.
Without my realizing it, she was opening me up for Irv. She was using her miniature penis to open my petals. Soon I would feel the sting of the bee.
Sally was moaning hotly as she fucked me in the ass. Her clitoris was thrilling as it worked in and out of my asshole. I never imagined that women could do things like that. It made me feel deprived, in a way. Deprived that I didn't have a big clit like Sally's.
She was groaning very hotly, as her erect clit worked in and out of my behind. As she deflowered the entrance of my rectum. I felt a hot flash of pleasure move up into my bowels.
It warmed me inside - all of me.
I was a bit sad when I felt Sally's clit throb orgasmically in my behind. I was sad because I knew that it would soon be over.
She pumped very powerfully in and out of my ass, and then came out of me, rolling about on the bed, hot with orgasmic pleasure. From head to toe she trembled.
Her body was hot with passion.
"Oh, darling," she moaned, "you are such a treat. You are a little angel."
"Let me sample some of the pleasures of this child's innocence,-and purity. Would you like to become a woman, my dear?"
"Yes, very much so," I said. "I really didn't know what was involved in that. I didn't know what it would mean."
I was soon to find out.
Irv and Sally traded places on the bed. He was close to me. He was so handsome, and filled with sexual need.
I could feel his hot breath on my face as he moved close to me, to kiss me. His lips moved against mine, and then he kissed my lips with a passion that I never dreamed existed.
I became immediately aware of the difference between men and women, when it comes to passion. My legs spread for him. It was automatic, instinctive. I pressed my pussy up against his body. It was a nice feeling. H was different than being with Sally.
Sally was so soft, and Irv was firm, and manly. I held him tightly, kissing him passionately on the mouth. Our tongues worked together in unison. I was just a little girl, but I so much enjoyed the feeling of being womanly, being with a real man.
Irv wasn't rough with me at all. In fact, he was tender. Much more tender than all the men I've ever been with, up until recently.
I put my arms around Irv, and we rolled together. I was on top of him. I was straddling his warm, masculine body. My pussy was rubbing against him. I could feel the warm juices of my vagina dripping onto his belly, as I worked my hairless organ over him.
It was thrilling, and oh, so very satisfying.
I pressed my mouth down against his, and we kissed lovingly, warmly, passionately. We were completely tilled with passion. We were overwhelmed by it all.
Slowly, I worked my body down towards his erect penis.
It was big and hard, and I was afraid of it. But I knew it was a fear that had to be overcome. I pressed my hot little pussy down against his firm organ. I felt the shaft of his rod press up against my vagina.
He worked himself back and forth on me. I could feel the hot passion engulf me. There was something about the feeling of a huge, stiff organ that truly thrilled me. I wanted it inside of me. I knew it would hurt, but I wanted it in me nevertheless. At eight, I had decided to become a woman.
It was as much out of a sense of duty to Sally and Irv, as it was for my own pleasure, that I was thus moved.
We rolled over again. Irv took my little face-between his big strong hands, and kissed me all about the face. His tongue slid slowly over my face. He kissed my eyes, and took my entire nose into his mouth. He sucked my nose, as I had sucked his wife's clitoris.
It was a very nice feeling.
He tongued my ears, and kissed me softly on the neck. Warm, thrilling sensations worked down my neck, into my very core.
My womanhood was opening, like a rose bud opening to the spring.
Though my body was not developed as yet into the form of a woman, I nonetheless experienced great pleasure.
When Irv moved his mouth to my breast, I felt a rush of pleasure into my breast mound. He switched to the other breast, sucking at this nipple with equal ardor.
"Oh, Irv," I moaned, "you make me feel so very nice."
"It is you who makes me feel nice," he said. "You are like the pure flower, the little angel - a fairy princess."
I liked to hear such banter. It made me feel good, hot, fulfilled.
"Would you like to do something for me, to make me feel really good?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "Of course."
"It would be very nice if you kissed my penis, and took it into your mouth."
I was afraid. But I didn't say anything. It was such a strange thing to do, I felt, to take a huge erection, like Irv's, into my mouth. I couldn't imagine what it was going to feel like. He rolled over on his back, and spread his legs widely apart. I looked over at his huge erection.
"Don't be afraid," he said. "It's your friend. Think of it as a magic wand."
That image, of course, worked very well to turn me on. He must have known that little girls like such talk.
I gripped his organ, and held it tightly by the base. Holding the cock firmly, like this, I licked the head of his tool. Irv closed his eyes and moaned with soft pleasure. He liked the sensations my tongue and mouth delivered. I licked the entire length of his member.
I could feel it pulsating against my tongue and lips. It was an exciting feeling. I enjoyed it very much. I took the organ into my mouth - just the, tip. I was still a bit shaky about all of these strange, new things.
"Play with my balls, gently, pretty princess," he sighed, while the tip of his cock was in my mouth. I sucked it gently, tenderly, and moved my fingers down to his nuts. I toyed with them lovingly, and felt the nuts harden with sexual expectation.
While I gently squeezed his balls, and pulled gently at the yellow pubic hairs, I took more of the cock into my mouth.
It was very large, and pulsated hotly, as it worked slowly, in and out of my mouth. It must have been a full nine inches I took inside my mouth. It was big and hard, and I could feel something happening in his balls. They grew hot, and tight. He held my head firmly, working his organ slowly, all the way in and out of my mouth.
"Think of it as a lolly pop," he said. "Soon, there will be a surprise. Soon, I will place a great treat in your mouth."
My mouth was moving rapidly up and down the length of his cock meat. I could feel his organ pulsating in my mouth.
I could tell that something hot and wonderful was going to happen. I couldn't wait. It was going to be so nice.
He groaned this amazing groan, which seemed to come from deep inside of him, and then he shoved his organ all the way into the back of my throat. His stiffness trembled in my mouth, and then there was a gush of hot come.
"Oh, yeah," he moaned, still holding my head tightly against his cock - so I couldn't pull away - and his hot come filled my mouth. I swallowed it up, feeling it run slowly down the back of my throat. It was a strange feeling. It was most strange indeed.
It was a bit like biting in to what was presumed to be a glazed donut, only to find a rush of hot custard inside.
I gulped down Irv's love nectar, feeling it go slowly down the back of my throat. It warmed me, running slowly down into my tummy. I was amazed by the wonderful sensations.
I felt the tip of his cock all the way against the back of my throat. I was amazed that I didn't gag.
"Oh, you sweet precious little doll," he sighed, as he worked his tool slowly, continuously, in and out of my mouth, spilling his load of hot jism into my throat. I felt it run slowly down into my tummy. I was so pleased by it all.
Kneading his nuts gently with my fingers, I felt his tool work about slowly in my mouth. I could feel a lessening of his sexual tension. I was sad, the way a little girl is sad when she thinks the party is over. But it was far from over. I guess I really turned him on. There were so many things he still wanted to do to me. He was going to make a complete woman of me - at eight. Pulling his still stiffened-penis from my mouth, he roiled me over, so I was on my back. Irv lay beside me, stroking my hair, blowing into my ear, kissing me on the face and the lips. He didn't want to frighten me. I could tell that. He wanted only to make me feel good.
And he did.
While kissing me gently on the mouth, he moved his body around, so he was lying beside me. He then moved between my legs, and pressing his hands beneath my ass cheeks, he raised my pussy to his mouth. His tongue worked about on my pussy, and probed my hole. I could feel the tip of his tongue pressing up against my hymen.
It was just a preview of things to come. His breath was hot against my pussy, and as his tongue sank deeply into my vagina, and then over my clit, I became oblivious to all, but the pleasure that worked through my pussy. My expectations were great. I knew it would be a momentous step for me.
I spread my legs widely, and felt his cock press up against my pussy. My vagina was hot with pleasure. Hot juices were dripping from my slit. My clit was hot and pulsating wildly with pleasure.
I could feel a generalized orgasm begin to stir in my groin. I knew that a great rush of pleasure was on the way. Soon, I was going to come. I assumed that soon I would come. I presumed it would be as the result of his tongue working over my pussy.
Irv surprised me. He pulled his mouth from my pussy, and moved between my young legs.
I looked over at Sally. She was playing with her pussy. She had a warm, pleasant look on her face, as if to say, "go ahead. It will be all right."
I did.
I didn't fight it. Not at all.
I was frightened, however - to be sure. I looked down at the huge erection as it moved slowly towards my pussy. I felt my entire groin tighten with expectation. I was afraid it would hurt.
It did hurt. But it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be.
He moved in closely between my young, smooth thighs. He pressed the blood engorged head of his organ slowly into my pussy. It was large. It was so very big that I just couldn't imagine how it was going to fit inside of me.
He hooked his arms on the inside of my legs, and lifted my pussy up into he air. As he did so, his cock moved slowly inside of me. It hurt. I suppose it was more fear, than it was actual physical pain, but just the same, it got to me.
I tried to pull away. "No, please," I cried. "It hurts."
"It's got to happen sooner or later," he said, "It might as well be now."
"No, it hurts. I'm afraid."
I pulled away from him. His cock came out of my pussy.
"Please, not that. I'm not ready. I'm too young."
"Sally," Irv called to his masturbating wife, "you'd better help me."
She had a sweet look on her face as she came to my side, and kissed me tenderly on the mouth.
I felt her tongue move slowly, gently into my mouth. She stroked my hair, and whispered to me. "It will be all right, honey. I was frightened, too, the first time. You just wait and see. It's just a little pain - like a pin prick. And then it will be all over. You'll see, there's nothing to be concerned about."
It helped. It really did.
Sally continued to gently stroke my head, while Irv moved in tightly between my legs. He pressed the tip of his throbbing organ again inside my pussy. It was hot, and felt delicious.
I was hot all over. I was trembling. I was fear-ridden.
Irv's organ sank slowly inside my pussy. It was an excruciatingly tight fit. He toyed with my breasts, as he moved the head of his fuck stick up against my hymen. I could feel the pulse of his organ beating against my hymen. It was going to be hot, pure pleasure.
He pressed harder still. And then he broke through. He pierced my hymen. I cried, as I felt myself become a woman.
"There, there, honey, it will be okay," Sally said, as her husband's cock sank slowly past my punctured hymen, and sank slowly, deeply, inside me. I could feel his cock go into virgin territory - places I've never had anything before.
At first it did hurt terribly. That was because of the injury. I could feel a steady trickle of warm blood issue force from my pussy.
"I'm bleeding," I said, fearfully.
"I will be all right," Sally said. "It's always like that the first time. Don't be worried. It will be just fine. You'll see."
"That's right, honey," Irv said, as he worked his tool slowly into my pussy. He pressed all the way inside. He was filling me completely. I was burning up with passion.
In and out, Irv forced his organ. Very slowly the pain became pleasure. I can't quite recall at which point, exactly, the pain was .transformed into pleasure.
But it certainly happened.
I found myself pumping up against him, taking great pleasure in the sensation of cock pressing into my pussy. He touched the cervix, the opening of my uterus, and I could feel my entire groin become bathed in delicious warmth.
Irv's organ was all the way inside of me. I wrapped my legs around him, pressing as he pumped, and relaxing, as he drew his cock out of me.
Sally continued to whisper into my ear, and rub my breasts. I was transformed. I no longer felt like a little girl. I felt as though I was becoming a woman. It was a most exquisite feeling.
"Oh, my dear, sweet little child," Irv sighed, as he pumped his took in and out of me. "I am going to come inside of you. It will give me the greatest of pleasure. I can't even begin to tell you."
"It will be all right," the woman whispered into my ear. "Don't be afraid. It's all part of becoming a woman."
He was pumping harder now. I could feel his warm balls slapping against the bottom of my pussy, as his organ plowed in and out of me. His cock was pounding in and out of me. He pressed his mouth to mine, as if to suck all the air out of me, and then he came.
I could feel his cock pounding in my tightened young pussy, as his hot come rushed inside of me. I was amazed by the sensations. It warmed me from the top of my head, to the tips of my toes.
I was overwhelmed by the pleasure of it all.
I did like it. I liked the feeling of being fucked very much. It was an entirely new adventure for me. The hot come filled my pussy.
"Squeeze down on me," he sighed, wanting me to milk his cock.
I pressed down on his jism spitting organ, feeling it pulsate hotly inside my hole.
The sensation of his organ working slowly, continuously, in and out of my pussy, absolutely overwhelmed me with pleasure. His tool slowly was pulled out of me.
I looked down at my pussy, and saw the blood tinged semen dribbling from my slit. I thought it was rather exciting, and all.
After Irv had pulled his organ out of my pussy, he lay beside me, looking into my eyes with fond desire.
"I hope I didn't hurt you too much," he said.
"It was mostly in my head," I said.
"It always is," Sally sighed.
"I swear," Irv said, "I feel such passion with you. I just can't believe it."
I felt his hand on my waist. He was trying to turn me over.
I knew what he wanted. He was going to do to me, what Sally had done. But it wouldn't be with a clitoris; it would be with a cock. My anus puckered tightly, in reaction to the fear that accompanied this realization.
"Don't be afraid," he said, as he spread my ass cheeks widely, and blew hot air down over my anus. I could feel my asshole pucker with pleasure. He lowered his mouth to my anus, and his tongue slowly pressed into my behind. I was thrilled by the sensation of his concern for my ass.
I knew it would hurt. But I also knew that there would be pleasure. There would be wonderful pleasure.
He pressed his tongue deeply into my asshole, and then pulled it out. I was ready. I was ready for the pleasure.
And the pain.
He moved in tightly between my legs, and pressed the head of his tool slowly up against my anus.
I felt him slide slowly inside me. His cock was pulsating against my rectum.
It was a horrifying experience, really, to feel the stiff prick slowly enter my behind.
I was afraid of the pain. I knew how large his organ was. It was bigger than any turd I've ever unloaded.
I couldn't imagine how something larger than what came out, could go in.
But it did.
Sally had to hold me down again, as I screamed with fear and pain, as Irv's cock slowly filled my ass. I could feel him pressing deeper and deeper into my behind. I was being filled with him. His cock was pressing slowly, all the way inside of me. It felt, at first, like a white-hot poker being shoved slowly up my ass.
I was filled completely with pain and a strange sense of pleasure. I think it was an awareness of pleasure to come.
I lifted my ass up from the bed, hoping to find a more comfortable position. But there was none. It was obvious that it was just going to hurt, until I became familiar with the sensation of cock in the ass.
Slowly, but surely, Irv pressed his organ down into the depths of my asshole. I could feel the rush of pleasure work all the way -through me. I was burning up with the pleasure of it all.
He shoved his tool all the way inside my ass.
There it trembled momentarily, and he shot off. He filled me in the ass with his jism, forcing his tool deeply inside of my asshole.
The hot pleasure was wonderful.
In and out it was guided. Only after he came in my ass, did the pain become pleasure.
It wasn't exactly an orgasm I felt. But it was the closest thing to it, I would ever feel, in my ass, that's for sure.
Sally no longer had to restrain me. I had been opened. I felt good.
As Irv pulled his organ slowly out of my asshole, I rolled over. I was smiling. So were they.
A new chapter had been opened in my life: A door opened, and I entered. Rather, I was led. But I didn't mind. It was as though they were my sexual guides.
CHAPTER TWO
This relationship continued off and on, with Irv and Sally, until I went off to boarding school. They moved away, and lost contact with my parents. I don't think my folks ever knew what had happened, that I had been seduced by their best friends, when I was only eight.
And though it seemed enjoyable at the time, I think I was scarred from it. I didn't realize all of this until just recently. I thought I had always had a rather fulfilling sexual life. It wasn't that way at all, however. It. was sick and bent. I only thought it was normal.
Without realizing it, I had become a willing sex slave. It had started with Sally and Irv. And the pattern continued throughout all of my sexual experiences. I always seemed to be with men to whom I had to conform. It was never the other way around. It was as though I was simply a physical object, a toy. I wanted to be more than that, however. Without realizing it, I was miserable.
To be exact, I knew I was miserable. That wasn't the secret - it was why. And it has only been recently, when I met Brad Dickson, that I discovered, quite by accident, that it can be very much different.
It's been a long and winding road. It's very important, I feel, to retrace my steps. I have an overwhelming need to understand the things that happened to me. Most specifically, why it all happened.
I trust this journal will allow me to understand.
It figures, I suppose, that as a teenager, I would become involved with a musician. For some reason, young girls always get off on music men. But William Benson was not just your run-of-the-mill rock and roll star. He was a punk rocker. His stage name was Billy Bad. I called him that as well.
I met him down in a club in Soho. I had gone with a girlfriend, but came home with Billy - to his home, not mine.
I don't know how it happened, that I became so sexually obsessed with him. My girlfriend was pleading with me to leave the club. But I had fallen in love with Billy. I suppose it was because he was blonde, and blue-eyed, like Irv Green. That was most likely the connection.
My friend had given up on me. I was sitting at a table before the stage, watching Billy sing. He looked so manly up there, sweat pouring off his brow, his punk rock hair style was matted with perspiration. I wanted him. I wanted to be his sex slave.
More than anything, I wanted to please him, to serve him. I wanted to be his sex slave. I wanted to do anything and everything for him. I wanted to please him. That's what I wanted to do most of all.
I suppose Billy saw it in my eyes, as I sat at the table before him. my eyes glued to him.
He turned me on. I wanted him.
I could see in his expression that he wasn't a great deal like me. He lacked the sensitivity. He really was Billy Bad.
I guess he got the message, that the young teenager at the table, before the stage, wanted him. It would be my first sexual conquest following the strange relationship with Irv and Sally.
The bulge in his tight fitting trousers told me he was a man. A man capable of passion.
I tried to imagine him up there on the stage, playing his electric guitar, with nothing on. It turned me on to imagine that.
I wanted to feel his stiff organ in my mouth, and in my pussy, and in my asshole.
There was something mean and savage about him. For some reason it was the wildness that attracted me. I liked the rebellious look in his eyes. He was James Dean, Montgomery Gift, and Marion Brando, all rolled into one, with a twist of punk.
It was two in the morning when Billy Bad finally finished his set. There were plenty of girls in the club who wanted him. He could have had his pick of any of them. But he picked me. And that meant a lot to me.
It seems like just yesterday that he came up to my table, and stood before me.
"You like my music?"
His voice was rough.
"Oh, yes, Billy," I said. "It's wonderful music. I like it very much."
"I could use a fan," he smiled. "Do you mind if I sit down?"
He didn't wait for my reply. He sat down beside me, and put his arm over my shoulder.
"I think you're cute," he breathed hotly into my face. "I don't usually go for young chicks like you. But I think I might make an exception in your case."
"Why?"
"I don't know," he smiled. "Maybe it's like beauty and the beast."
"I think you're very handsome," I said.
"I didn't necessarily mean beastly looks. I have a beast who lives inside of me. He makes me do strange things. He really blows my mind sometimes. He makes me feel evil."
"I can't imagine you being evil. I think that must just be part of you."
"I don't much go in for intellectual type talk," Bill Bad said. "What about you leaving with me?"
"Now?"
"Yeah, we'll go to my place. I've got some good pot. We can get into it together. I mean, really into it."
"That would be nice," I said. I wasn't thinking at all about my folks - about them being worried about me. I felt like a woman. And a woman should be able to do what she wants, when she wants.
Billy had a small loft in Soho. It was near the club. We walked. He had his arm around me while we walked.
"There's something nice about you," he said.
"I am a nice girl."
"I didn't mean nice that way," he said. "I mean, you're a nice example of womanhood. Like I could really get into you."
"That's an awfully sweet thing to say," I said.
He smiled. It was as if he had a secret. I was later to find out what his secret was. I feel some shame, and anger, even now, as I recall how Billy Bad took advantage of my innocence, and my purity.
I think it's a sin to take advantage of people, the way Billy Bad took advantage of me.
His apartment was pretty sparse. Just a bed, a couple of chairs, a bureau, and his musical instruments. There were many mirrors - too many mirrors. I should have known there was something wrong with him. Actually, I suppose I did. I just didn't want to admit it to myself.
"Take off your clothes," was the first thing he said to me, when we were at his place.
I balked.
"Don't be afraid," he laughed. "Don't you want to-be porked by Billy Bad? Isn't that why you're here?"
"Not exactly," I said.
"Then what the hell do you want? I can't be wasting my time with some prude chick. Either get out of your clothes, or you can just get the hell out of here."
I started to get undressed. So did he.
I was very turned on from looking at his naked body. I knew I would be. And I certainly wanted to see him without his clothes on. I wanted to make love to him. But I didn't like the way he was approaching it. It bothered me.
We stood before each other, naked. I was only eighteen, and only beginning to develop into a woman.
My breasts were swollen, and my nipples were taut. But they were child-like breasts. Just barely there. I still had some developing ahead of me. It was the same with my pussy. My pussy was covered with soft, blonde down.
"Yeah, you are a regular cup cake of a teenager," Billy smiled. He must have been around twenty-five at the time. That's a lot older than eighteen, in terms of experience with life.
He walked up to me and put his arms around my body. He pulled me closely to him. His huge erection pressed between my thighs, and thrilled me. I could feel my hot vaginal juices dripping from my slit over- his rod. He worked his organ slowly, back and forth against my pussy.
I could feel my hot juices begin to trickle from my slit. I was burning up with pleasure.
"That's right girl," he said. "You get real hot for me. You want Billy Bad to fuck you, right?"
I was hot. I wanted to make love to him. But I didn't like the idea of being a sex slave - just some come rag for him to abuse.
It had to be special. I didn't know then what I know now. I didn't know how to use my strength to change him - to force him to compromise, to adapt to my needs.
It was all for Billy Bad. I was simply to be his sexual toy, plaything. But that didn't matter at the time. I wanted him. I wanted "him more than anything.
He was holding me tightly. His mouth pressed against mine. His lips were hard against mine. His tongue plunged into my mouth without sensitivity. It was an overwhelming possession. That's precisely what it was. It was a possession. He was taking control of me. He was just using me as a three-dimension masturbation fantasy.
"Let's get into bed," he said.
He took me too his bed.
"I want you to suck on my cock, honey," he said.
It seemed like such an ugly way to talk about sex. But I wanted him. I wanted him badly.
I would do anything to please him. I had to make him happy. That's what I wanted more than anything.
He was on his back. His huge erection was standing straight up. I moved to his side, and took his cock in my hand, keeping it erect, as I moved my mouth slowly to the cock head.
"That's right, girl," he said, as he took my hair in his hands, pulling at it, as he directed my mouth down over his cock.
This was a very different kind of experience than the one I had with Irv Green. He had been much more gentle with me.
There was nothing gentle about Billy Bad.
"That's right, girl," he sighed, "you just keep sucking on my cock. Doesn't it feel just wonderful?"
I wanted to tell him I thought he was cruel for using me as an object the way he was.
I didn't like it at all.
My mouth was moving rapidly up and down the length of his cock. He was pumping much too hard. He was hurting me. I was afraid I would throw up. I was afraid that I might gag when he came in my mouth.
And I could tell by the way his cock was pulsating in my mouth, and the way he grabbed at my hair, that he was indeed going to come in my .mouth. It was just a question of time.
He moved his organ rapidly in and out of my mouth. I did nearly gag as he approached the moment of release. He thrust his rod all the way into my mouth, his balls tensed, and then he came.
It was a great deal more jism than Irv had shot into my mouth. I was terrified I was going to drown on it.
The hot jism flooded my mouth. I swallowed as best I could. I thought maybe Billy would be impressed. I thought he would get off on the pleasure of my mouth sucking at his cock, pulling the hot jism from his rod into my mouth. I swallowed his spunk gleefully.
I took it all. I milked his cock.
"That's right, honey," he sighed, as he pulled his rod from between my lips. "You did just fine. I can tell that you really love me. You do love me, don't you?"
"Yes," I said. I knew that I was a fool to love him. But I was only eighteen. And everyone knows that's a very foolish age.
After I swallowed Billy's load, he wanted to fuck me, immediately. I had to plead with him to go down on me first. I said I needed it for lubrication. I don't think he would have sucked on my pussy, if it was only because I wanted the pleasure.
He was selfish that way.
I don't know how I managed to always end up with the selfish bastards. But that's exactly what Billy Bad was - as well as plenty of others who came afterwards.
He wasn't very tender as he moved between my thighs, and spread my pussy lips apart with his fingers. He pressed his tongue down into my pussy. He took my clitoris into his mouth, and nibbled on my magic button. I could feel the juices begin to flow.
I was hungry for an orgasm.
"Oh, Billy," I sighed, "It feels so good. Please don't stop. I want to come."
"You feel pretty wet to me," he said. "You can come when I fuck you."
"But I can't come that way," I said. "I need to have my clit sucked, or toyed with, in order to come."
"That's your problem, not mine."
He was so cruel. I don't know why I didn't just split on him right then and there. I don't know why I just hung around, taking all the abuse. I certainly didn't need it.
But then, why was I with Billy? I could feel the tension and the fear. I could feel my orgasm just coming into focus, as he lifted his mouth from my pussy.
He was so mean and selfish.
"You're doing really nice," he sighed. "You're doing just a wonderful job."
"Let me come."
"Stop wanting it so much," he said. "It will come naturally, organically, when I fuck you. Just give into it. Don't fight it."
I knew he was lying to me. I knew he didn't care one hoot whether or not I-came.
He was just sick of sucking me. I was wet. Wet enough to fuck. And that's all Billy Bad ever wanted from me. He never wanted to talk. He never wanted to get to know me.
He only wanted me to suck him off, and take his cock in my pussy, and my asshole. It was a total use. But it was Billy Bad. And that meant a lot to me.
I was willing to do anything for him.
What a fool I was. A teenager in love with a punk rock star! I mean, who was I trying to fool?
I lay on my back, with my legs spread widely apart. He wasn't at all gentle as he forced his tool into my gash.
Irv had fucked me slowly. He didn't want to hurt me. But it seemed quite obvious that Billy Bad didn't give a shit one way or another if I hurt, or if I got pleasure.
He rammed his organ into my pussy. I screamed with pain, and grabbed at the sheets as his huge organ pounded into my pussy.
I felt my cervix open up, and his stiff, thickened tool rammed into my uterus.
The pain nearly made me pass out.
It was extreme. It was the worst ever.
"That's right," little girl, he breathed hotly into my face. "You just hang on. 'Cause you're giving Billy Bad a great ride. Think about how lucky you are. Think about all the girls across America who want to be doing this with me."
For a couple of moments that seemed like a big deal to me. But then I started thinking about it, even as he banged his powerful tool in and out of my pussy. Like, who gives a shit?
I obviously cared, up to a certain point. But I was rapidly figuring out that there is a big difference between love and simple carnality.
And carnality was what Billy Bad was into. That's all he was Into.
I won't lie to myself, and pretend that it was all bad. It wasn't all bad. There was pleasure in making love with Billy.
But I was never allowed to orgasm, unless I did it to myself. I was not permitted pleasure, unless I frigged myself to the point of orgasm.
He didn't even kiss me, or fondle me while he was fucking me. He simply pounded his tool in my cunt. In and out he worked himself. And then, with his head on the pillow by my face, he grunted powerfully, and shot his load.
It felt strange. It wasn't entirely devoid of pleasure, what he was doing to me. But it was only by accident that it felt good. It had nothing to do with Billy, or his feelings towards me, if indeed he had any feelings towards me.
I was glad when he discharged in my pussy. I was glad because it meant that it was all almost over. And that's what I wanted. I wanted it to be over. I didn't want to have to deal with him any longer, in a sexual way.
But as Billy Bad pulled his organ slowly from my pussy, it was quite apparent to me that he wasn't finished. His cock was still erect, and ready for more action.
"Roll over, little lady," he said.
I knew what he wanted. And I was more terrified than I had been with Irv. At least I knew that Irv and Sally were friends of my parents. There was only so much they could do to me.
I knew I couldn't fight it. It had to be.
I was going to have to take the punk rock singer's cock up my asshole. It was going to hurt plenty. It was going to inflame me with pain.
He pulled me up on my hands and knees, thus exposing my ass. He spread my ass cheeks apart, and blew warm air over my anus.
"That feels good," I sighed. I was thinking that Billy had changed his ways.
But then I realized that he was only trying to get me to relax, so that he could have an easier go at my asshole. He wanted me relaxed, so he could simply shove his tool up my ass.
I was overwhelmed by it all.
There I was, on my hands and knees, with the punk rock singer pulling my ass cheeks apart. He was pressing his tongue slowly up my ass. He was lubricating me.
I wanted to feel pleasure. More than anything, I waited to feel the stiff organ go up my ass - but I wanted it to happen simply, easily. I wanted it to be like a flow.
That was simply expecting much too much from Billy.
It was silly of me to expect that it could be all right. He wasn't trying to make it easy for me. He was only trying to make it easy for himself. He wanted me loosened, and lubricated, so he could shove his cock up my ass. He didn't care how it was going to feel to me. That meant nothing to him.
"Get ready baby," he sighed, "because I'm going to fill you up. Are you ready for me?"
I didn't say a word. I was too intent on expectation. I was fearful of the searing pain of his rapier being shoved up my tight little ass.
With loving kindness and patience, I don't think there's anything that I wouldn't do - with a man I cared for, and who cared for me.
There was little pleasure in what Billy was trying to do to me. There was little pleasure at all.
I felt his cock press up against my anus. I grabbed tightly at the sheets, and moaned with the expectation of pain. I knew it was going to be bad. I knew that there was going to be pain and discomfort.
He told me to keep quiet, that my fearful moans were making him nervous.
It seemed like just about the .pinnacle of selfishness.
She shoved his cock slowly up my ass. I cried. I felt the blood rushing from my head. Before my eyes I only saw stars and blankness.
It was frightening.
Billy Bad didn't much care for my tears.
He shoved his organ right up my ass. I screamed.
"I thought I told you to shut up!" he screamed at me, and grabbed me by the hair. I was terrified by the violence he was exhibiting.
"Why are you so mean to me?" I asked.
"Just shut up, would you?" he said. "You're making it very difficult for me to get off."
I ceased my moaning, but resolved never to see Billy Bad again. I thought I had finally been cured of my desire for abuse. I thought it was all out of my system.
I lost my strength in my arms and legs, because of the pain. He shoved his organ deep inside my asshole.
I fell on my belly. He fell with me. He wasn't about to give up the inches he had gained.
"You are a difficult little bitch," he moaned, as he pressed his tool all the way inside my ass.
"I don't know why it was you I brought home. Of all the chicks I could have had, why did I have to pick a dud?"
I didn't think I was a dud, just because I wanted a little kindness and understanding - not to mention some pleasure of my own.
But I know enough now about psychology to know that there is very little that we don't bring upon ourselves.
Somehow, I was foolish enough to think that it would be thrilling to make love with a punk rock star.
It wasn't thrilling at all, however. It was a bitch.
It hurt plenty.
Only Billy was having a good time, as his huge erection pounded without mercy in and out of my asshole.
It felt as though he was tearing my insides apart.
I held on for dear life. I cried out with severe pain as his organ pounded in and out of my asshole.
It was terribly painful.
I was weeping uncontrollably into the pillow, as his cock pounded in my asshole.
I wanted it to be over. I simply wanted to get away from Billy Bad.
And then he shot off into my ass. At last it was over. At last the pain was over with.
CHAPTER THREE
It was all a big mistake. Being with Billy was the worst experience of my sexual life. I thought it would all be over with him. I wanted it to be over. I didn't want any hassles. I didn't want any problems.
I was sore for a week. My pussy and asshole felt as though some sort of maniac had pounded his fist in both my holes.
I told myself that I would never again make the same mistake. If I couldn't find a man who would be good to me, I simply wouldn't have a man. I would turn to women if I had to. But I wouldn't take Billy Bad's brand of abuse again.
That turned out to be an illusion.
I wish I didn't have to be the kind of person who couldn't learn from prior experience.
I wanted to rectify my ways. I wanted to find a man who would be willing to share the great love I felt myself capable of. I wondered why that was so damn difficult.
Wouldn't you know it - about a month after that terrible experience with Billy Bad, I was sucked into another sick relationship.
I know enough about life, and the dynamics of interpersonal relations - now - to realize that I was attracting such relationships. I was attracting them like a magnet. !t was all so sick. But I couldn't help it. I didn't know how to turn that energy off. I didn't know how to stop it.
That frightened me.
I met Allan Crane on the street. Rather, I should say that he met me. He was older than I. He was in his early forties, with grey hair, and the most interesting eyes.
They were like cat eyes. They were green, flecked with yellow. Strange eyes, looking a bit like the colorful marbles the young boys play with in the park, were staring at me on the street.
I was walking down Fifth Avenue, I think. I was window shopping, and felt the presence of someone behind me.
I was afraid to look around, because I felt evil. I was aware of something evil around me.
I was pretending that I wasn't aware of anyone behind me.
I simply continued to walk down the street. I came to a window, where there was a mirror used in the window, display. I looked into the mirror, seeing what was going on on the street behind me.
There he was. I thought he was rather handsome, really. He was dressed rather conservatively, with grey tweed slacks, and a blue sports jacket. His tie was cranberry. It went well with his powder blue shirt. He looked like a man of distinction. I suppose his grey hair had a lot to do with that.
He must have known that I was looking at him in the mirror, because he smiled at me right into the mirror, and then he stepped right lip behind me.
"Don't be afraid," he said. "You don't have to turn around if you don't want to. I just want to talk to you."
I was frightened. I wanted to run. But my feet seemed frozen to the sidewalk. I couldn't move if I wanted to.
I don't know how he had done that to me. But he did. I was frozen to the concrete. Later, I was to learn that Allan Crane was a magician, of the black variety.
He was evil. Again, like a magnet, I attracted him.
But I learned something this time. I learned something about magic. In retrospect, I can understand a lot of why things happened to me. And I can thank Allan Crane for that. Though he did plenty to fuck my head up, he did teach me a lot.
It was all rather silly, how it worked.
I guess he had hypnotized me, with those cat eyes, looking at me in the mirror. He was standing right behind me. I was oblivious to the pedestrians walking past. I couldn't even hear the sounds of the cars, the cabs, the trucks.
He was right behind me. I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck.
"Your fear is only your ignorance," he said, practically touching me with his body. You are a sorcerer's apprentice. You probably aren't even aware of it, but that's what it's all about. I sense that we were destined to meet. I sense that you are to serve my needs, so that I can carry out the great work."
I didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. But his words most definitely acted as some sort of hypnotic suggestion on me.
I was rooted entirely to the pavement. I couldn't budge if I wanted to.
"Now you may turn slowly around," he said. "Look at me in the eyes."
I did. I felt like a puppet, with no will of my own. I turned and faced him. His eyes were so intense. I trembled all over.
"Yes, you will do just fine," he said. "You have exactly the qualities that I'm looking for."
I didn't have the slightest idea what he was talking about. I only knew that he had a hold over me.
"Come with me," he smiled. "We are going to learn much together. And we are going to enjoy much together."
It felt as though I was floating off the side walk as I went to the curb, beside him, to hail a cab.
It was just like being a puppet. I had no idea where I was going, or why I was going with him. I was simply going. That's all I knew. I was simply going to some unknown place with him.
I was aware of a sexual energy between us. I was acutely aware of that. Yet, somehow, it didn't feel like my sexual need. It was more like his.
I was aware of being in the cab, feeling as though we were in a boat, on the sea, moving gently about. It was all so strange to me. I didn't know what to make of it at all.
The cab stopped, and we got out. We were in the Upper Westside, in the high nineties. I had never been up that far before.
It felt rather strange being there.
"Come with me," he said, his eyes staring into mine, strangely.
We entered an old apartment building. It was one of the fine old pre-war buildings, with the gargoyles, and all the fancy angles and edges.
As we entered the building, the doorman looked at me strangely, as if to say, "Oh, you poor little girl, what have you gotten yourself into?"
I had an instinct to turn and run. I wish I could have. But my feel were firmly rooted. I was held tightly to him, as if by an invisible umbilical cord.
Allan Crane opened the door to his apartment, and ushered me in. It felt strange being there with him.
The apartment was decorated in a fashion I was entirely unfamiliar with. I didn't know what to make of it.
There were strange diagrams on the walls - pentagrams, and pictures of strange people, like kings and queens.
"Sit down," he said.
I took a seat oh the sofa.
"When I snap my fingers," he said, "you will feel perfectly calm. It will all just flow very smoothly for you. Everything is just fine. You aren't afraid, are you?"
Suddenly, I felt like my old self again.
"What?" I asked.
"You're not frightened, are you?"
I couldn't believe that I wasn't on Fifth Avenue. I couldn't quite recall, at first, meeting this grey-haired man on the street, and sharing the cab ride with him.
"Yes."
"Well, there's nothing to be frightened about," he said. "We were destined to meet. I only recently lost my former sorcerer's apprentice. The Astral Plane has guided me to you. It's a simple as that."
"What do you want from me?" I expected the worst.
I wasn't thinking about the magic of a Christ, or a Mohammed. I was thinking that I was with some vile, evil sort of sorcerer. I feared, and rightly so, that he was some sort of black magician. That he was essentially evil.
"What are you all about?" I asked.
"Don't you really know?" he asked.
"No, how would I know? I was just walking along Fifth Avenue, when you were standing there, behind me. It doesn't make sense to me. I don't know who you are, or how I got here. I only know that something is very strange about the whole thing. What are you, and what do you want from me?"
"Funny, I thought you were an initiate."
"A what?" I asked.
"I thought you were a novice on the road to witchery."
"I am most definitely not a witch," I protested. "How could you think such a thing?"
"Oh, perhaps I superimposed it on you. I wanted to see it in you, so I did. That's all very possible, actually."
"Well, that must have been how it was, for I certainly am not a witch, nor did I ever want to be. I still don't want to be a witch."
"I'll make a witch of you," he smiled. "Don't you want to possess great magic? Don't you want to be able to make people do things against there will?"
"No, not at all," I said, truthfully.
"You lie!" he scoffed, dancing about the room as he talked, like a crazy man, or Mephisto himself.
"I am not lying," I said. "I like, to think I'm a good person. I want to be, anyway,"
"Don't be a fool, girl," he said, his green-yellow cat eyes staring wildly at me. "You are only experiencing part of the life you can have. Go for it all. Take it all."
"Please let me go home."
"How old are you, my dear?" he came so close to me, I could smell him. There was a strange odor about him - like sulfur.
"Do you like music?"
"Anything but punk rock."
"You needn't worry," he laughed, "the great Allan Crane would never play punk rock. That would be an absurd joke."
"I don't like disco music either."
"Are you trying to get my goat, child?"
"No, not at all. Why do you say that?"
"I'm no fool," he said. "I think you know very well what I am, and what I want from you - what I must have from you."
"Why does everyone think they know what I'm all about? This man says he can read my mind, the next one tells me that it's good for me to suffer, because he's a punk rock star. And that life is essentially, fundamentally a punk experience ... "
"Whatever are you talking about, child?"
"Men."
"You are foolish to attempt to assert yourself as a woman," he said. "Women were created to serve man's needs. Don't expect so much out of life."
"I happen to believe in equality between the sexes," I said.
"Then you are even a bigger fool than I originally took you for," he laughed. "Woman is to serve man. Woman is to lie on her back, with her legs spread, in order to take the man's wand into her abyss."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. "You make it sound as though women are mere slaves, toys."
"And thus you speak the truth, my pretty little witch."
"May I please go home?" I asked.
"First you must listen to my music. I think you will like my music very much."
I didn't think he would let me get away, if I tried to make a run for it. So, I simply sat. And I waited.
He went to the back of the room, and pulled a black cloth away from a very strange musical instrument.
"It looks like bones to me," I said.
"That's exactly what it is," he said. "It's the backbone of a magician."
"You knew him?"
"Yes, Barnabas was a good friend of mine. Unfortunately, he played with some demons of the Astral Plane, which he should not have tangled with. I cut his spinal column from his corpse, before having him cremated. The back bone of a magician, you see, is a very special item. It can be a conduit of great energy. Wonderful things can happen upon it. I can play magical music on this spinal column. T can spin dreams for you. I can find your inner vibrations. I can control your inner consciousness.
"Oh, you are strange," he said. "I can see, feel that you are fighting me. You are fighting my energy. You shouldn't do that. It's silly."
"Yes," I said. "It is silly."
I found myself cooperating with him. I don't know why. I didn't want to, it was just happening. He was spinning some sort of web over me. I understand now that I fed him the energy which allowed him to do that. It came from me. I fueled him. It was this need of mine - this need to submit, to serve as a slave. I had such little self respect, I suppose. I was all fucked up sexually, and I was sending out those kinds of vibrations. The kind of men I was attracting were all weirdos.
And I was getting off on it, because I was just as sick as they were. I don't know how I attracted Allan Crane, to me, but it was a big mistake. It was a big mistake indeed.
"You won't be able to hear this music with your ears," he said. "You will hear it with your soul. Let your soul flow with it. Don't fight it. Just flow nice and gentle. Let it envelop you."
I couldn't believe the things he was doing. It was all so weird. His hands were moving along the back bone. I thought it was some sort of a joke. His hands were moving back and forth, like a conductor, conducting a symphony orchestra.
It was one of the silliest looking things I've ever seen.
It looked absolutely absurd.
But I didn't laugh. Instead, something strange began happening to me. I became very confused. The energy around me seemed to close in from every side. His eyes were focused directly on mine.
He held me in his power, while he waved his hands, like a crazy man, over the "musical instrument."
I don't know how it worked, by I suddenly became aware of the air moving about me. It seemed to be moving in the same patterns as the man's hands. It was as if he was stirring the air up.
It was a hot wind that blew about me. I don't know why he called it a musical instrument, because I couldn't hear a thing. It was ail feeling. It was simply things that I felt going on about me. It was a strange feeling indeed.
Then he stopped. He began to walk towards me. His eyes were glued to mine. It was as though I was looking into the eyes of a wild animal. It was troubling. It was frightening.
He was suddenly beside me on the sofa. He was pulling at my clothes. He lifted my blouse off me, and took my naked young breasts in his hands. He squeezed them, while he stared into my eyes.
I felt his breath against my mouth, and then he kissed me. I felt hot energy work throughout me. I was suddenly lust ridden. I don't know where it came from. It just descended on me.
He was kissing me wildly, passionately. He was uttering all sorts of strange oaths. It was some sort of occult lingo, I think. I certainly couldn't make it out. All I knew was that he was sucking at my neck, licking me, and working his mouth down to my breast. He sucked at my pap. It grew hot.
A strange feeling worked through my body. I was burning up with passion. He moved to the other breast, and took that nipple in mouth as well. He sucked me, and then moved to the other breast as well. My body was on fire with passion. I was overwhelmed with it all.
He pulled my skirt from me, and tore my panties away from my hips. I was naked before him.
"What a beautiful pussy you have, my dear," he said.
I didn't reply. I was hot with passion. I wasn't thinking about a thing. I simply pumped up against his hand. His fingers were working hotly over my vagina. He was squeezing my vaginal lips together, and pulling at my clit. I was on fire with delight. His tongue was pressed deeply into my mouth.
"Now you are learning," he said, lifting his mouth from mine. "You are learning how to be a woman of passion. That's what I want from you. That's what I expect from you."
"I am, yes I am."
He was between my legs. He had me spread widely.
"Repeat after me," he said: "I was born to serve only you. I am on this earth to fuck for you, to suck for you, to do what ever is needed. I am a sex slave. I live to serve the needs of men."
I repeated what he had said. I don't know why I did. It was stupid of me. I didn't want to believe those things. And yet I said them. I don't think a hypnotist can make you say or do things that you know essentially is wrong. So, I guess that was indeed part of me. It was me. There was something evil brewing in me.
It felt nice as the strange ^man pressed his mouth to my pussy. His tongue probed deeply inside of me, and then he brought the tip of his tongue up to my clitoris. He sucked at my clit meat, and used his teeth on it.
I could feel an orgasm coming.
"Do you want to come?" he asked, lifting his mouth from my pussy.
"Oh, yes, please let me come." I was so hot, so burning with desire to orgasm, that I just couldn't help but plead, and beg. I wanted it all. I wanted so very much."
"Will you do whatever I tell you to?"
"Yes."
"Very well, my sweet," he laughed, and pressed his eager wet mouth into my pussy.
I could feel the orgasm taking form. It was coming together, deep within me. My entire groin was aching, focused, straining to reach to the pinnacle. I wanted to let myself go. I wanted to float into orgasmic bliss. Although, I did not feel at all comfortable with this man, sensing the evil about him, I let myself go.
I closed my eyes tightly, and images of Billy Bad, and even Sally and Irv Green danced before my mind's eye.
My clitoris began to shudder. The hot orgasm was focused deep within my groin. I was burning up with the pleasure. And then I orgasmed. Allan moaned as I moaned, as his tongue flicked continually against my clitoris, and pressed into my moistened box. My pussy lips closed down on his tongue. I took him inside me as a penis. His tongue thrilled me, and like a magic wand, each time it moved in my hole, waves of warm passion and deep relaxation worked through me.
I was overwhelmed with the pleasure of it all. I was engulfed by it.
"Oh, my," I groaned, "that is so wonderful."
"And there is still so much for us to do," he smiled, in an evil way, as his tongue was withdrawn from my slit, and worked up over my pulsating clit.
He sat before me, his tongue licking at his lips, removing every drop of my vaginal juices.
"I love the taste of your sex," he sighed. "It fills me with warmth, and pleasure."
"It felt very good to me, too," I said. "It was a very nice orgasm."
"And now, my dear," he smiled, removing his clothes, "I want you to begin repaying me for all I have done for you; for all I have already shown you. And there will be more."
"What do you want from me?" I asked, still feeling as though I was in some sort of a coma.
"I want you to suck this!" he said, as he removed his trousers, and his overly large erection whipped out, like a knife blade.
"Very well," I said, staring at the large erection, though I didn't feel very moved to suck it.
I didn't like the idea of being a mere sexual object. Yet, there was this underlying need to serve men - despicable men - as a sexual object. I didn't much like Allan. In fact, I think I hated him. I knew I feared him.
I sat up. He was standing before me, naked, covered with grey hair. His evil cat eyes were focused on mine. Again, I felt a ripple of mind control work through my brain. It was as though he was conducting the mind vibrations.
I reached, robot like, for his erect phallus, and holding it tightly by the base, moved my mouth to the cock head. I ran my tongue over the head of his cock, feeling the tip tremble with excitement and pleasure. I took the cock head into my mouth, and worked my tongue over it. It searched deeper into my mouth. It pressed into my throat. Though I nearly gagged on it, I took the member deeply into my mouth.
He placed his hands around the back of my neck, groaning with sexual excitement, and he began to work his tool in and out of my mouth. I wanted him to come in my mouth, and yet I didn't. The part of my mind that I controlled told me that I didn't want to be with Allan Crane, doing these things. But the part of my mind, which he apparently controlled, was telling me to lust for his steamy love nectar.
I reached for his balls, and squeezing them tenderly, I began to suck on his pecker.
The organ throbbed in my mouth, and I could feel the tension build rapidly. Soon, he would shoot. I could sense it. He moved his organ rapidly in and. out of my mouth, never letting go of his hold on me, and then he shot. He pumped wildly in my mouth, as his hot spunk went shooting. I swallowed his load. I felt it run hotly, thickly down the back of my throat. I nearly gagged on the thick love fluid.
It was quite disgusting.
He moved his organ in and out of my mouth, discharging, milking himself.
And then it was over - the cock sucking. But he wasn't finished with me yet. "Wasn't that wonderful?" he asked.
"It was okay," I said.
"Well, there is lots more to come, my dear," he laughed. "But first I need a break. I must regenerate my sexual energy. Tell me, my dear, would you like to know a secret?"
"What sort of a secret?" I asked.
"A secret about the universe - and what it means."
"Sure."
He walked to a table, and fetched a pad of paper and a pencil. Sitting beside me, he drew a circle on the paper. And then he drew six circles around the inner circle.
"This is the secret of the great pyramid."
"Seven circles?" I asked.
"Yes," he smiled. "But I can't tell you about the secret of the pyramid. That is too great a secret to share with one at your level. I will show you instead the meaning of numbers, and how they were derived. I will show you a few other concepts as well."
First, he took the pencil and drew a large oval inside the diagram. It was an ellipse which started at the top of the six circles, and finished at the bottom.
"This," he said, "is the cosmic egg. Herein lies the embryonic message of the universe. Herein lies all truth. Please note, that the two triangles which can be drafted from the top and the bottom of the outer six circles, becomes the Star of David."
He drew the star. It was amazing.
And then he showed me how all of the ten Arabic numerals could be inscribed within the seven circles.
It was obvious that this man knew a great many things. I just couldn't imagine why he seemed so evil. Only later did I learn that it was a choice Allan had made along the road of his spiritual development.
He had opted for what was evil. Perhaps it wasn't permanent. But I wasn't planning on staying around long enough to find out why. As soon as I had broken away from his power, I planned on giving this man a very wide berth.
Who needs evil?
"Now I feel ready to proceed," he said. "I am ready now to take you - to fuck you. You do want that, don't you?"
I replied in the affirmative. I don't know why. I wished I hadn't. I wished I had the power to say no. But Allan's strength was much greater than mine.
He pulled me down to the carpeted floor. I was on my back. He was beside me. He moved his hand through my hair, and brought his lips to mine. He kissed me roughly. There was nothing tender about him at all.
He shoved his tongue into my mouth, inflaming me with desire. Passion swept through me. He moved his mouth down to my breast, and ran his tongue over my mammary. He took my nipple into his mouth and sucked. I felt my nipple respond. I was filled with pleasure. He moved his mouth to my other nipple, and sucked at that pap as well.
I was filled with passion. I felt his mouth move from breast to breast, sucking at my paps. He kissed his way down to my groin, and spread my vaginal lips apart with his fingers. He ran his tongue slowly over my inner lips, and he took my pulsating clit into his mouth. He worked his teeth over my clit meat, and then pressed a finger slowly up my hole.
I was filled with passion. I could feel all of the erotic tension focusing on my sex. I felt myself grow moistened. That's what he wanted. That's why he was sucking my cunt. He wanted me wet and hot. He wanted to fuck me.
I looked down at his peter. It was big and swollen. It was reddened, and as it pressed slowly into my box, it hurt. Even though it was moving slowly inside of me, it hurt terribly. It was as though an evil object was being thrust inside of me.
I didn't like it at all.
I wrapped my legs around him, thinking it would make it easier somehow. He shoved his organ slowly inside of me. It hurt all the way. Even my insides reacted against his presence inside my body.
I didn't want him there. I didn't want him close to me at all. He pressed his huge tool all the way inside me, pressing up against my cervix. None of the men I had ever been with seemed content to simply make love to me. They always had to hurt me.
That bothered me. It bothered me a lot.
He worked his hands over my breasts, squeezing at me, pulling at my tender nipples, while his stiff organ worked back and forth over my swollen clit and inner cunt.
Hot juices began to to flood my pussy. That at least made the fuck a smoother experience.
His organ was working rapidly in and out of me.
I could tell by the way he groaned, and perspired, while his organ banged in and out of me, that he was soon going to come. He was going to shoot his hot spunk deeply into my pussy. His cock was throbbing inside of me. Soon it was going to explode, and he was going to fill me with his hot load.
I could feel it coming. I could feel the hot pulsations of his organ inside of me.
He shoved his tool all the way into my cunt, and then he shot.
He shot wildly, hot come filling my vagina. My clitoris was throbbing hotly.
But Allan wouldn't let me come. He purposely kept his erect cock away from my inner cunt meat. He refrained from pleasing me.
After he had shot off into my pussy, he pulled his come and pussy juice dripping organ from my slit, and sat beside me.
"Wasn't that just a great treat?"
"Yes."
I didn't mean it. I hadn't hardly enjoyed it at all. I just said that to keep him happy. Though I was his slave, though I was most decidedly under his control, I fought it, as best I could. I wanted out.
"And now, my sweet little sorcerer's apprentice," he smiled, "roll over and show me your charming behind."
I did as I was told. I knew what had to happen. I felt revulsion deep inside at the thought of taking his stick up my ass. But there wasn't much I could do about it.
I couldn't get up and run if I had wanted to. He had that much control over me.
I was on my hands and knees, and my ass was lifted high in the air. He spread my ass cheeks apart, and blew warm air down on my anus.
I felt a tingling of pleasure. But it was simply a physical reaction. There was no emotional pleasure, or attachment to him.
I was on my hands and knees, and he knelt beside me, like a wrestler, ready to attack.
His hands worked lewdly over my body. He squeezed my breasts, and pulled at my paps. It didn't feel very good. It wasn't a very pleasurable experience - not at all.
His hand worked between my thighs.
I felt like a cow, with a veterinarian rubbing his fingers over my pussy. I felt his fingers press slowly into my vagina. He was hurting me. I didn't utter a word, however. I didn't cry out when he shoved two fingers powerfully up my ass. My body ached with pain and tension. But I kept my mouth shut. I wanted Allan to finish his business and let me go. I wanted to be free of him.
He forced my legs apart, and pressed my head and chest down on the carpeted floor. Only my ass was lifted up into the air. He spread my ass cheeks apart, and lowered his mouth to my anus. His tongue pressed slowly into my hole. My anus gripped his tongue, as it searched into my behind.
That didn't feel so bad, actually. It's just that I knew much more was to come.
He forced fingers up my pussy and asshole, violently opening me. And then, his hot breath on my back, and his sweaty, perverse body pressed up against me, his organ worked back and forth over my pussy. He was collecting hot juices on his cock, getting ready to plunge deeply into my ass.
I braced myself for the onslaught.
Allan forced his tool up against my asshole. He pressed slowly inside me. My body ached. I wanted to scream from the pain he was delivering to my tightened anal ring.
Slowly, but very surely, painfully, to be sure, Allan Crane forced his organ down into my anal vault. The hot, searing pain was enormous. It was almost more than I could bear.
He pressed his tool slowly into my ass until I could practically see stars before my eyes. It was most definitely not a cosmic experience. The stars were not heavenly bodies - they were the stars one sees just before blacking out from pain.
I almost couldn't deal with it. The huge organ sank deeply, fully into my asshole.
The pain was significant, nearly crippling me. I could feel his organ pulsating. His, balls were slapping up against my ass cheeks. It wasn't going to be long. He was going to fill me completely, and then unload his orgasmic burden into my ass.
Tears were falling freely from my eyes. My facial muscles were tightened In fear and dread. He shoved his cock repeatedly in and out of me. He could care less that I was in pain.
If I would have died, sodomized by his cock, he wouldn't have cared. He was a selfish, black magician. He didn't care a hoot about anything but his own selfish, dastardly needs.
All I could do, to find some relief, in the midst of all this pain and discomfort, was to reach for my clit. I squeezed my magic button tightly between my fingers, stroking myself, feeling wonderful pleasure, as his cock banged in and out of my ass. It was terrible.
I hated it.
But I did manage to find some relief.
I pulled at my clit, frigging myself, masturbating my way into some semblance of pleasure - of escape from all the crap and problems.
My groin was totally engulfed in this pleasure. I was overwhelmed by it all. Slowly, the pain in my ass became pleasure. It wasn't so bad after that. In fact, it felt good.
I didn't let him know that. The way I figured Allan Crane, he would have just loved to make it worse - so that I didn't experience any pleasure at all. As I write this, I wonder if I wasn't being somewhat paranoid.
He definitely made me feel that way. I didn't like him a bit. I didn't even like his cock.
I was beginning to learn how to separate the cock from the man.
His organ was pounding in and out of my asshole. Pain was working through my body. I felt gripped by it. I was held tightly by it. I was being overwhelmed by it all.
And I didn't like it one bit. Not at all.
"Yes, my sweet," he groaned in my ear, reaching under me, and pulling at my breasts, he was on the verge of corning.
His cock exploded in my ass, and hot come shot into my behind. He filled me with his spunk. My bowel was flooded with the hot spunk.
I felt it slosh deeply inside of me, while his organ worked slowly, continuously, in and out of my asshole.
I felt very much engulfed by it all. I discharged concurrently with him.
His hot jism flooded my ass. He worked his tool about in my behind, and after he had finished with me, he pulled out.
"There, now we have made a complete sexual connection. Isn't it grand, glorious, and satisfying?"
I didn't tell him that I thought he was a complete buffoon, and an asshole. I didn't want to have any trouble from him. I just wanted out.
"Yes," I smiled. "It was very nice."
"You may go now," he smiled. "You know where I live. Please come by often. I have enjoyed you a great deal."
"Yes," I said, as I dressed. "I'll be back."
I was lying through my teeth.
CHAPTER FOUR
After that heinous experience with Allan Crane, I stopped seeing men altogether. I knew what my instincts were. I knew that I picked the wrong kind of men - and that doing so, I was being both judge, jury and executioner, to myself.
I thought I could simply outgrow it.
I started to study fashion design. I attended classes at the Fashion Institute. I was hoping that my creative life would take the place of my fucked up sexual life.
It didn't really work that way. It didn't work that way at all.
Oh, I was learning things - there was no doubt about that. I was learning lots about color, and fashion, art, and design. But I began hanging out with artistic people.
In a way, I figured that being around creative types would alleviate the situations that I seemed to always find myself in - that of being a sexual slave.
I wanted more than anything to lead a normal, fulfilling life. I wanted to find a man to love. I didn't really .mind the idea of serving a man's sexual needs. I didn't mind that at all. In fact, I thought that was the way it should be.
I only wondered if men would always want to just abuse me, and use me.
I knew that I played a vital role in the tragedy of my sexual life.
And that's exactly how it worked with my next lover. Though I waited six months to initiate another relationship, it worked the same way.
Burt Bergman was a writer. But he wasn't a regular writer. Oh, he assured me that someday he wanted to be a normal writer - but for the time being he was forced to learn and earn, by writing racy fiction stories for numerous nudie magazines.
I don't know why I believed him - that he had higher purposes to his art. It took me quite some time to discover that he actually got off on writing about perverse things. Hurt was a sick man.
And my relationship with him only served to make me sick, like him.
I wondered if it would ever end - all this sickness.
I was sick of it.
Of course, in the beginning, I thought it was going to be a loving relationship with this writer.
But it wasn't.
Right away, on our first date, we had to get right into the sex. He had a great excuse for it, of course.
"Let's go to your place," he said, after buying me dinner one night.
"Why?" I asked.
"I want to make love to you."
"Already?"
"Is there anything wrong with making love?" he asked. "You make it sound like some sort of crime."
"It's just that I know what happens to me when that door is opened," I said.
"So, what happens to you?"
"I always seem to lose my sense of self. I become lost in the other persons needs. I become a sex slave."
"Maybe that's what you want."
"Hardly," I said.
"Then why does it always happen?"
That got me to wondering. I wondered why indeed it worked that way.
As I didn't really have a good reason for saying no, I took Hurt home with me.
"I'm sure it was no coincidence that we met," he said. "As a matter of fact, I'm working on a fiction story right now about a girl very much like you. She lives only to give pleasure to men. Indeed, she could care less about her own pleasure. That means very little to her."
"But I care about my pleasure."
"I know you do, my sweet," he smiled, "but for the sake of art - which is more real, and more lasting than our puny, mortal concerns, let's pretend that you don't care about your own needs. Let us pretend that you live only for me. I am your master."
Again, I was hooked into a sick relationship with a man. It was merely a new face to an old story. Burt was making all of that up. It was a crock of shit. All he really cared about was taking advantage of me. He wanted to enjoy his own sexual trip.
He was just like the other men. He didn't care. He didn't care at all.
But Burt was so handsome. I didn't mind. At least I thought I didn't care.
We sat on the edge of my bed. I was trembling with the knowledge of knowing that I was stepping off into a void. I was making a very big mistake. And I was going to pay a heavy price for it.
But my inner instinct took over. I was like a lemming of life.
"You are so cute," he smiled, that phony smile of his - that phony smile of all horny men - and he began unbuttoning my blouse. He hadn't even kissed me yet.
He opened my blouse, exposing my breasts, and he pressed his hand over my tit. It felt good. I won't deny that.
He pulled my blouse out of my skirt and finished unbuttoning it. He took my breasts in his hands, and squeezed them tenderly. He brought his lips to one tit, and then the other. He sucked at my breasts until I could feel a hot wave of sexual pleasure work through me. I was burning up with this pleasure. I was on fire with the horny lust he felt for me. It wasn't my own lust. I was beginning to see the difference - but there was still so far to go.
It was his lust I was reacting to. It was not my own He pressed me down on the bed, and opened my skirt. I felt, in a way, like I was being raped.
I was. But it was me who was doing it. Burt, I understand now, was simply an extension of my own self destructive nature. He was a mirror image.
I was on my back.
He tugged at my black lace panties, until they were torn away from my body.
"You look so desirable in your nakedness," my dear, he said, as he finally kissed me on the mouth.
But it wasn't a kiss of pleasure, of affection. It was a kiss of lust. He was kissing me only to excite me, to make my pussy run hot with pleasure and with moistened need.
I spread my legs widely. I figured it might as well feel good.
"Just do me one favor," I said.
"Sure, what's that?" he asked.
"Can I have some pleasure from all of this?"
"But of course," he smiled. "I don't see why we can't both benefit from this literary experiment."
He moved his hands over my breasts, while kissing me passionately on the mouth. It was all very hot and sexual. His tongue pressed deeply into my mouth. I sucked at it. And he sucked at my tongue.
His hand moved slowly down towards my pussy. He squeezed my vagina passionately.
He took my clitoris between his fingers and began to work it back and forth. I was burning up with pleasure.
I pumped up against his fingers. I so much wanted to come. Masturbation could only take me so far, I knew. I wanted to feel his fingers in my pussy. I wanted to feel his mouth over my entire vagina, sucking, as if my sex was some tropical fruit, and he was taking sustenance from it.
But Burt was taking his own sweet time about it. I could tell a lot about him by the way he dealt with me. He held my arms pinned to the bed, and kissed me like I was some nigger slave from the deep south - a hundred and fifty years ago.
I couldn't believe that he could have such disregard for my equality with him.
As he held me pinned to the bed, he moved his mouth from mine, and began pressing his tongue slowly in and out of my ear.
He blew hot air into my ear, and got me excited. It was all rehearsed in his sick mind.
His mouth was on my breast. He was becoming violent with his teeth as he worked on my breast. Then -he switched to the other breast, and bit at that nipple as well.
Both my breasts were pleasure filled, and pain filled. I wasn't sure which I liked best the pleasure, or the pain. It was all so confusing to me.
He let go of my wrists, and pushed my thighs apart.
"What a lovely cunt you have, my dear," he said, as he pulled my labial lips apart, and looked into my cunt.
I felt like raw meat at the butcher shop.
He had a sick smile on his face, as he lowered his mouth to my pussy. He ran the tip of his tongue along the crimson rim of my inner cunt lips. I was hot with pleasure. His tongue sank slowly into my pussy hole.
It was beginning to feel good. There was pleasure. He took the swollen clit into his mouth, and jerked it about. His teeth nibbled at my sex. I was on fire with maddening passion.
A finger was thrust up my cunt hole, and then up my asshole. It hurt. I was unprepared for the intrusion.
I didn't bother to protest. I didn't see how it could do any good. That was my own self destructive impulse, however. I suppose, in retrospect, that I wanted him to treat me that way. If not, why did I lie there, and take it all? And why had I always done that - since the age of eight?
I was as sick as Burt. But that didn't change anything. I guess I was beginning to accept it.
His mouth was anything but gentle on my vagina. He sucked violently at my cunt. It felt as though he would bite it off. I had a flash of cannibalism as his mouth worked over my pussy. I thought about his teeth tearing at my cunt, eating it, like sweet meat.
I'm glad it didn't come to that.
I must have been a very sick person, at that stage, to even think such a thing.
He pressed his tongue deeply into my vagina, and then worked it up over my clit. He sucked at my magic button, and I felt a throbbing go through me.
I was going to come.
"Yes, Burt," I moaned, "please let me come. Let me enjoy. Let me be a woman."
"There was never any doubt in my mind about you being a woman," he said, temporarily lifting his greedy mouth from my sex.
The next thing I knew, his tongue was pressing deeply into my gash. He was sucking at my clit, and working his fingers about in my holes.
And then I came.
It felt fantastic.
I shook from head to toe. My body was on fire with lust. His fingers were working rapidly in and out of my holes.
I arched my back, and moaned with hot pleasure. The joy of the sexual union rushed through me.
From head to toe I was engulfed with this pleasure.
I was alive with it.
But my pleasure was simply a stepping stone for Burt Bergman's pleasure. He had me lubricated at this point. He was ready to slip his huge organ deeply inside me.
I looked forward to it. Though I knew that it wasn't truly out of love that he was doing these things to me, at least I was deriving pleasure as well as him. And that was at least a start towards what sex should really be - for mature, well centered human beings.
He moved between my thighs, and shoved the head of his large organ up against my vagina.
"Don't you just love the way all of this feels?"
"I wish you would put a bit of your heart into it," I said.
"Don't you worry, little lady." he smiled, in that deceptive way of his, "my heart truly is in it. What I'm trying to do is research my new story. I told you that. In truth, I have the utmost respect for you."
"Sure."
"That's true."
"What is true to one person, isn't necessarily true to the next."
"What is truth?" he asked.
"Forget it," I said. "Let's just fuck."
"Spoken like a true angel," Burt smiled, that selfish, earthly, smile of his.
He held me down on the bed. My legs were spread widely.' Just the way he held me, convinced me that his heart was little involved in what was happening to us. It was all in his cock. His hands spread my legs widely apart. He forced my knees up in the air, so that my youthful vagina was completely exposed.
He shoved his organ up against my vaginal opening. As he pressed slowly inside of me, I could feel his stiff, shimmering organ slide slowly down into my moistened fuck canal.
"Oh, yes," I moaned. "It feels good. It did. But it could have felt a great deal better.
If his heart had been in it, it would have felt infinitely better.
His organ pulsated wildly, as it sank slowly into my cunt.
He pulled my legs still further forward, so that his cock was practically burrowing straight down into my cunt.
I felt like earth that was being explored for oil, with a huge, ungodly drill.
My pussy ached. But it felt good. I, was coming to grips with my own sickness. I was accepting my own part in this sick sexual melodrama.
In my subsequent studies of psychology, I learned the extent that accepting responsibility for one's actions plays in finding one's way out of the forest of illusion.
He pressed up firmly against my clit, and inner pussy lips with the shaft of his rod.
I was burning up with pleasure as his cock worked up and down against my cunt.
I could feel the orgasm slowly come into focus.
I wrapped my legs around him, like butterfly wings, as he drilled my pussy with his huge organ.
"Oh, Burt," I groaned, "I think I'm going to come."
"Me too," he sighed. "Hold off on yours, until I'm ready."
Of course, he would have to say that. It couldn't be a situation of him waiting for me. It had to be me making all the sacrifices. It was the old story about the man trying to possess the girl.
So, I gave in. I concentrated on holding all of the pleasure inside. I bit my lip and tried to hold the orgasm back.
It was most definitely asking a lot - perhaps too much.
My entire being wanted to break loose. I wanted to experience the orgasm completely.
But I had to hold it back. It was something like trying to hold back a shit- that wanted desperately to be released.
It was hard. My clit was throbbing convulsively. I wanted to discharge. I wanted to feel the pleasure engulf me.
"Please hurry," I cried. "I can't keep it within me for much longer."
"Don't you worry, little lady," he said, "I'm almost there."
But, instead of working his tool vigorously inside of me, he slowed down the rhythm of his fuck.
He was purposely taking a long time. He was purposely trying to torment me. More than anything I wanted to come. I needed to come. I had to come.
He was staring at me, with intense, cruel, sadistic eyes. He was enjoying the torment.
He was most definitely getting off on it.
With my legs spread widely apart, my clit throbbing with intent to orgasm, he moved his tool slower and slower. He was torturing me, tormenting me. I thought it was all terribly sick.
"Please," I gasped. "I can't take it any longer. It's much too intense. It's making me sick."
"Very well," he sighed, his cock throbbing.
"I am prepared now to come."
And he did.
It was his orgasm that was of vital concern. Not my own.
My orgasm arrived simply as an anticlimax.
I thought the entire idea of us trying to pace ourselves was to achieve a simultaneous orgasm. But that didn't seem at all what was happening. It was much more his orgasm - with my own included.
I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to catch a break, when it came to men. It seemed like just so much bad luck. I know what they say about making your own luck. But I don't much believe it. I think it's a crock of shit. I didn't want to be sick. I didn't want to have to take sexual abuse off men.
Then why was I?
That was the question, for which I just lacked answers. It was frustrating as hell to figure out. I just couldn't figure it at all.
"That was most pleasing," Burt said, as he withdrew his cock from my pussy hole. "Yes, I enjoyed that very much. It was quite a pleasure. Quite a pleasure indeed."
I wanted to spit in his eye.
"Tomorrow," he went on with his assinine talk, "I will write a story about this. It will be good. The editors ought to really get off on it."
So, that's what I was reduced to. I was just a fuck doll. He rehearsed with me, gathering material for his sick writing.
When was I going to be a person? That's what I wanted to know.
"Now, my young lovely," he smiled, "allow me to introduce my cock to your asshole."
"You think that's funny?" I asked.
"A little humor, even in the most serious of situations, can go a long way," he said.
"As in a long way up my ass?" I replied.
"You're a smart little lady," he smiled. "You catch on real quick."
"Thanks."
"And now, for the ass."
I rolled over. I didn't see any point in putting off the inevitable. If he was going to use me, it might as well be all the way. I know how men think. A use is no good, unless it's all the way.
He pulled me up onto my knees. My ass, and the rear of my vagina were well exposed - just the way he wanted it to be.
He spread my ass cheeks apart, and kissed my anus. His tongue searched deeply into my asshole. It felt good. It did indeed feel good.
I bucked up against his mouth. I decided I might as well get as much out of the situation as possible.
His tongue was working feverishly in and out of my ass. I was thrilled by the sensations. It absolutely drove me wild with lust.
So, I was at least using Burt as much as he was using me. It was a sorry state of affairs, I do believe. But I just didn't see any alternative. That's just how it seemed to be.
I hoped to God that it wouldn't always be like that. I wanted so much to believe that somewhere along the line there would be a man who would redeem me and set me free.
I even prayed at night that it wasn't simply an illusion. I refused to believe that God could be so cruel, as to give us capacities for emotion, and love, only to make it an impossible thing to achieve.
Burt moved his mouth from my ass, and shoved the head of his organ up against my anus. It hurt. He was bigger than the others. Besides, my ass had closed up again, from a most definite lack of nooky in my tushy.
I nearly passed out as his cock slammed into my asshole.
Again and again he drove his rod home into my bowel. He was driving me crazy with the pain of it all.
His organ was ramming like a battering ram in my ass. I remembered from previous lessons at the hands of such sexual slave masters, that frigging was a sure way to overcome the monstrous pain of sodomy.
I reached for my clitoris.
Wouldn't you know, but that bastard grabbed me by the wrist, and pulled my hand away from my cunt, while his organ pounded like mad in my asshole ...
If that isn't the depths of selfishness, I don't know what is.
CHAPTER FIVE
Needless to say, I didn't see Burt Bergman again after that. He was just like the others. I thought that because he was a writer, a creative, thinking, ostensibly sensitive person, he would be different.
Bullshit!
I got right into my studies. I didn't want to know about men for the longest time after that.
I didn't let anyone special into my life after that until I was twenty. I went for over a year without letting any man come close to my heart. Now and then I would indulge in a little promiscuity - but nothing that could possibly come close to my heart.
The men I felt emotionally attracted to, I didn't get near. The only men I messed with were cretins with nice bodies. I liked them young and wild. I simply wanted to suck the sex from them.
Mostly, I got into my fashion design studies. I was learning a great deal about color. I was coming up with some very hot creations. There was a lot of talk, both at school, and on Seventh Avenue, about me being a hot property.
Even before my graduation, there were offers from some of the hottest fashion houses in New York.
My head swam, of course. I didn't know what the fuck was going on. I didn't know whether I was coming or going.
I didn't know shit. Let me correct that. I did know enough to stay clear of the men I was beginning to encounter, who were associated with the fashion business. They were, for the most part, terribly macho, selfish types. I didn't want to know much about them. Not much at all.
At least I was learning to stay clear of the obvious types. But I somehow smelled out the inner traits. I was so smart that I was making myself sick.
Kenji Matsui was an accountant with one of the well known national accounting firms.
He was born in Tokyo, and seemed so polite. I never would have expected that he was in fact a master at Japanese rope bondage.
It's almost absurd how it works.
I had met Kenji at a party. Apparently, none of our mutual friends knew anything about his bondage trip.
At least that's what I wanted to believe.
For the longest time, I didn't want to accept the possibility, that they knew, and that was precisely why they tried to match us.
God, was I that obvious - my sickness?
I guess, whether others knew it or not, I was very bad off. I was a haunted woman. It was as if some evil witch had cast a spell over me.
I thought about Allan Crane, but then realized that I had been like this, even before him.
It was all because of that situation when I was eight. I began to blame my folks for it. I began to hold it against them. I stopped seeing them, writing to them, or even talking on the phone with them.
Whenever my mother would call, I would quickly say, "Madame, you have the wrong number. Your daughter is dead. She died when she was eight years old. I'm the new tenant."
The first few times I said that on the phone, my mother screamed hysterically.
I thought that was funny. After awhile, I guess she just gave up on me. She stopped calling. I don't think she ever knew about what Sally and Irv had done to me.
But they were her friends. I hold her responsible for it. She should have known what kind of people they were.
The first few dates, Kenji didn't try anything. He dressed so conservatively, and always behaved like a perfect gentleman. I thought it was going to be sweet and nice.
I don't know who I was trying to kid.
The first time he invited me over to his apartment, it happened.
"Excuse me while I change into something a little more comfortable," he said, flashing his toothy Jap grin at me.
I sat down on the sofa, admiring the lovely Japanese prints on the wall. I've always admired Oriental art. It has such a serene quality about it. It calms me. It makes me feel very nice and warm inside.
Kenji came out of his room, dressed in a black kimono, with silver lightning bolts embroidered into the material.
I could see his erection pressing against the material.
I don't know what made me think that Japanese men were meek. Kenji wasn't meek at all.
"Kenji!" I said, "you disappoint me so. I thought you would be a gentleman."
"Because I am Japanese?"
"Well, I suppose ... "
"Yankee prejudice is disgusting," he snapped. He was red in the face. I never imagined that he could be so violent. I had misjudged him entirely.
"Take off your clothes," he said.
I did as I was told. I didn't see any point in fighting it. I didn't know yet about the bondage trip. I thought it was simply going to be another hateful fuck.
It was that all right, and it was more. Worse. Much worse.
After I had undressed, he stood before me with a very sick look on his face. I was trying to figure out exactly what that look was. I knew it was hateful, strange, bizarre - but why?
"I like the way you look, white woman!"
So, that was his trip. He was going to take it out on me. All the beautiful American women who had ever hurt him, rejected him, laughed at him, were suddenly me. I was going to be the symbolic whipping girl for ail of them.
Suddenly, Kenji pulled his robe open, revealing his naked body. His cock was huge.
Funny, I always thought Jap men were small in the meat department. Kenji Matsui certainly wasn't.
He was hung like a horse.
"You just stay right where you are."
There was something about his voice which scared the holy shit out of me. Perhaps it was his eyes.
What does it matter? I tried to make a run for it. Shit, he was fast. He was at my side in a flash, I saw him in mid air. He was in the act of throwing a karate kick at me that was guaranteed to stun a horse.
It just about killed me.
I went flying across the room, like a rocket going into orbit.
I had the wind knocked out of me. I sucked for air. It was difficult to breathe. I began to cry.
The room seemed to spin. Kenji opened a closet, and pulled out a cardboard box. I couldn't see what was in the box at first. But when he was at my side, and began pulling the ropes out, I knew what he was up to.
"Why do you want to hurt me?" I asked.
"It isn't so much that I want to hurt you," he smiled. "But there is a certain kind of pleasure you can afford me."
"Why do you have to tie me up?"
"I'm afraid I have to," he smiled that sick smile of his.
I gave in. I did so as much out of a feeling of impotence, as I did out of a sick inner desire to suffer.
I was on my back. He began tying my ankles together. The ropes burned at my flesh. It was hot, and it hurt.
Tears ran from my eyes, but it didn't matter. He grabbed my wrists, and tied those together as well. Again, the ropes burned into my flesh. I wanted to cry, to scream. But I didn't see the point. That would only increase his sick pleasure.
I let him tie me up.
He danced about me like a samurai warrior. He was like a maniac. I couldn't stand it. I thought it was so sick. "Why me?" I asked myself.
"You look so delicious, tied up, my lovely white woman," he smiled.
All I could see was horse teeth.
I hated him.
He straddled my body, rubbing his erect organ over me. He pressed his tool into my cleavage, and worked it back and forth.
I could feel the pulsations of his hot dick meat.
He was fucking me between the tits.
I couldn't move. I couldn't knock him off even if I wanted to. All I could do was endure.
Life - especially my sexual life - seemed like a never ending long endurance trial. I felt like Job in the Bible. I couldn't imagine why I had to go through so much suffering.
I wanted to think that it was so I could be rewarded afterward.
But that was just pie in the sky.
I could tell my the expression on his face that he was going to come. He was going to come all over me. The very thought of it disgusted me.
He pressed my sensitive tits against his pulsating organ, and. then he groaned. The hot Jap jism went shooting up against my neck, chin and into my face and hair.
It was a disgusting feeling. I thought I would puke.
As his ejaculating organ began to dribble over my tits, he forced my mouth open, and shoved his tool inside.
"Suck it all up," he said, working his organ about in my mouth, I sucked at his rod, but thought it quite obscene, disgusting, and all that.
I hated him. The look on his face was one of a conquering hero. Some hero. Some victory!
Suddenly, he was beside me. My legs were forced tightly together, by the ropes around my ankles.
He shoved his fingers down into the tight space between my thighs, driving his hand up to my pussy.
He was hurting me. He was hurting me plenty.
His fingers pressed into my hole at such an angle that it felt as if a red hot poker had singed my pussy. He took my clit tightly between his thumb and forefinger, and squeezed so hard that I thought it would be severed, forefinger, and squeezed so hard that I thought it would be severed.
I was suddenly gripped by a paranoid fear that Kenji would indeed tear my clitoris out by the root. He was pulling that hard at it.
What a bastard!
I had a vision of him holding the torn hunk of clit flesh up before my eyes, like a piece of red tuna, on a slab of rice - a sushi. And then, in my vision, Kenji shoved my severed clitoris into his mouth. He swallowed it.
I screamed with pain.
"So sorry, lady," he smiled, and finally let go of my clitoris.
The pain continued, however. There was just no let up at all with the pain.
"Your pussy will be the last portal for me to fill, my white captive," Kenji laughed.
I thought about going to the police after he had finished with me. But what would they do?
So, they might put Mm in prison. A lot of good that would do me. No, the answer had to be different.
I was convinced there was some reason that all of this was happening to me. It wasn't simply an accident. I just couldn't accept that. No, it was more than that. But what was it? That's what I had to know. Why did I seek and find such horrible men?
I was aware of Kenji rolling me over on my belly.
He pulled my ass cheeks apart, and blew hot air against my anus. His mouth pressed against my ass cheeks. He licked me, and then he bit me.
Oh, Christ, how it hurt!
I tried to break free of the bonds, but that was impossible. No, he had be roped and tied. I felt like a steer at a rodeo.
Only, instead of branding my ass, he was biting it. It felt as though he was biting through my flesh. I was terrified (hat I was bleeding, that he was really going to take a chunk out of my ass, and swallow it. I thought about the ugly scar I would have on my rear.
"Please don't bite it off," I pleaded.
"Don't be so conceited," he said. "What makes you think that I would want to swallow your ass flesh?"
Thank God, I said to myself.
But he had plenty of other little tortures yet in store for me. Spreading my ass cheeks widely apart, he began to tongue my anus. That was pleasant enough. But when he shoved a finger deeply into my ass, and then another, and another, and still another, I began to shriek with horror.
He had all of his fingers, including his thumb, jammed up into my ass. I was nearly crippled from all the pain. It was overwhelming. He pressed harder still, and his entire hand, up to the wrist, passed into my ass.
It was monstrous. I could barely deal with it.
In and out of my rectum, he pushed and pulled his hand. It was a terrible pain. It was much more than I could even begin to deal with.
It was a tragic, burning, hideous pain. I wanted to be dead, rather than to have to endure more of it.
I considered suicide. Not right then and there - which would be impossible, because of my bound condition.
No, I was thinking about later. I was thinking about how nice it would be to have an end put to my misery. Just to die. It seemed sweet.
But I knew better. I knew that it would block my spiritual progress. No, I still had not lost my faith. I still held on tightly to hope. It was my absolute salvation.
Finally, the perverse Jap pulled his hand out of my ass. He wiped it clean against my hair. The smell of my own feces was revolting.
He was on top of me.
My legs were bound tightly together, so I knew it was going to be a rough, painful, and unholy experience.
He shoved his dong, like a huge sausage, into the crack of my ass. He worked it back and forth.
He touched the tip of his rod to my anus.
A sharp pain pressed through me. He shoved his meat stick slowly up my ass. My body revolted against what he was doing to me.
He pressed his cock back and forth in the hollow of my ass. He slowly entered my behind. I felt his cock slide slowly into my ass. He was tearing me open. He was spreading my asshole open, like a lotus blossom opening to life, to understanding, to total comprehension.
I tried to think of it in such poetic terms, hoping that I could superimpose an image of satisfaction, and of real pleasure, over the absolutely hideous experience of taking the hateful Jap's cock up my asshole.
"So good it feels," he sighed, as his cock worked in and out of my asshole.
I could feel my belly begin to cramp. It hurt. My body was shaking with it all.
He was all the way inside of me. His cock was pressed as deeply as possible into my rectum.
"For the love of God," I finally summoned the strength and courage to protest, "please stop this outrageous pain. It grieves me so. Please stop tormenting me."
"You please turn me on," he smiled.
I hated him so.
His organ was shoved deeply into my ass. He was pounding it in and out of me. I thought I was going to die right then and there.
"Please ... "
"Never."
He slowed the movement of his cock in and out of my asshole. He was doing it on purpose, to hurt me. He pulled to one side, and then to the other side. The pain in my rectum was terrible. I felt a simultaneous impulse to puke and have diarrhea simultaneously.
I wished I could have had an attack of diarrhea while the slant-eyed bastard had his cock in my ass.
It would have been just wonderful for me.
He hammered his organ repeatedly in and out of my ass. I was grateful when he finally came. I hoped that it would be over.
He shoved it down deep, one more time - for bad luck, I presume - and then he pulled out.
"Wasn't that a lot of fun?"
"No," I said. "It was disgusting."
"If you think that was disgusting," he laughed, standing over me, "wait until you see and feel what's next."
"Great," I thought to myself. "He's probably going to strangle me."
Instead, Kenji grabbed me by my wrists, and began pulling me across the room towards the bathroom.
I couldn't believe it when he dumped me into the tub.
"You look so cute, tied up, lying there so helplessly in the tub."
"Thanks a lot," I said.
And then he began to urinate on me.
I did puke then. I couldn't help it. I had an attack of diarrhea as well.
Jesus, I was in trouble.
The ugly Jap was standing over me, waving his yellow cock at me, while his smelly, fish reeking piss bathed my body. Each time the stream of piss (and he had lots) moved up towards my face, I felt another attack of nausea grip me. I would puke, and the chunky, disgusting fluid would fly from his mouth all over me. The icky shit was dribbling continuously from my ass, mingled with his jism, and blood.
I thought I was a gonner for sure.
"You certainly look a mess," he laughed. "I don't want piss and shit on my ropes. They're fine ropes, made from boar bristle."
I couldn't imagine what he was getting at.
"No, I think I should rinse off my ropes. I want them to last for further fun and games. I do so much enjoy having a good time. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
I lied, I thought that if he figured I was on his side, along for the ride, so to speak, that things would work out much better for me. That was a big fat illusion.
He turned the shower on me. Ice cold!
"You bastard!"
"Thank you," he laughed. "It turns me on to hear you utter such oaths, for my benefit."
That shut me up fast.
I slowly adjusted to the temperature. The way I figured it, he was at least washing away the vomit and shit.
"Enough of the shower," he said. "Now, it is time for you to have a bath." Nope, he wasn't through with me yet. He still had plenty of abuse to heap upon me. I was, after all, every woman. To his sick mind, I was the symbol of all who had ever done him wrong.
I felt like a female Christ figure, being tormented for the sins of all Occident's.
The icy bath water was making me float. I was terrified suddenly of drowning. I began to fight against the ropes, and in so doing so, I accidentally rolled over.
I figured that Kenji would turn me around. I held my breath. I couldn't believe he would be willing to have a corpse on his hands.
I held my breath until I was blue in the face. And I held it still longer.
Obviously I didn't die. I couldn't be writing this if I had - I think.
But that was just about as close as I would ever want to come - until I was old, and ready to die in my sleep.
I tried not to panic. I figured that if I kept my cool, and didn't race my heart, I could conserve much more oxygen.
I had read that once in a snow survival manual, when I had gone skiing up in in Vermont.
The pamphlet had said that if buried in an avalanche, the most dangerous thing to do is panic.
I tried desperately to remember that.
I then began to think about dying. I had only been under the water for about a minute. Yet, it seemed an eternity.
I thought sure I was going to die.
I recalled having read in some novel, that death by drowning wasn't a bad way to go. I tried to remember that, as the possibility of death in Kenji's bathtub became a very real possibility.
I believe, that in the novel, the author had indicated that if one remained perfectly calm, and didn't struggle, so that the throat spasmed, that it could be very natural - like floating off into a deep, endless sleep.
I figured that if I came to the moment of death, I would try like hell not to fight.
When I felt the air completely gone out of my lungs, I would simply relax, and let the water rush into my mouth, down my throat, and into my lungs. I was completely open to that possibility.
And then, miraculously, as if the hand of God was directing my destiny, Kenji lifted my head out of the water. He nearly snapped my back doing do. but there was air. I would rather be a paraplegic, than dead.
Nix that, I would rather be dead. As long as it was a swift death.
I gasped madly for air.
Kenji was laughing. His face was twisted, hostile, sadistic. I don't think I ever hated anyone quite as much as I hated him.
"Please, let me live."
"But of course, my dear," he laughed that insane, Oriental laugh again.
"It wouldn't be much fun if you died."
Of course, that's all he cared about - that I should live, so that he could torment me some more.
"Don't you like to suffer?" he said, with that hideous look in his face. I swear, if I would have had a gun in my hand at that moment, I would have shot him in, the face. But then he would have let go of me, and I would drown. We would both be dead. And our souls might get twisted together.
The thought of spinning through the universe, my energy locked into his, was worse than any physical torture he could subject me to.
Again and again he shoved my head beneath the water. I held onto my breath as best I could.
But all my strength was gone. Only after he finally pulled me from the icy water, did I realize that was precisely what he was trying to do to me.
He wanted me weak and helpless. That would make it all that much easier for him.
I was still soaking wet as he pulled me back into the living room. He dropped me like a huge fish on the carpet, standing over me like the old fisherman from Hemingway's novel.
"Do you promise not to resist me, if I untie you?"
"Yes," I sighed, feeling as weak as a little old woman.
"That's cooperative of you, my sweet," he sighed, as he unlashed my ankles, and then my wrists.
I don't think I could have fought him even if I wanted to. I was completely sapped. I just didn't have the strength.
He spread my legs widely.
I couldn't believe the size of his erection. It was even larger than before. It was quite apparent to me that he was mighty turned on from having tormented me in the bath.
He moved between my wet thighs. I was cold and shaking. His cock felt so hot by contrast, as he worked it slowly back and forth, over my inner cunt.
He was trying to turn me on so that I would lubricate. I knew exactly what he was trying to do, and I thought it was disgusting.
But I couldn't tight the purely physiological reaction.
My vagina began to juice up. Hot discharge dribbled from my .slit as the purpled tip of his organ worked slowly over my crimson cunt lips, and up against my blood red clitoris.
It felt good. I knew that he didn't want it to feel good - to me - so I didn't utter a sound!
I pretended that I hated it - that it was a hideous, disgusting ordeal.
As his huge Jap meat sank slowly into my pussy, he filled me entirely.
I was overwhelmed by it all.
I bit my lip to keep from calling out with pleasure.
Kenji pressed his mouth close to my ear, and sank his weight down on me, while he rode me high, like a horse.
His tool was pressing up against my clitoris. I could feel the pleasure begin to focus.
It was feeling good all right. It wasn't going to be long until I came.
He shoved his way all the way to my cervix and beyond. The pain was intense, but already my clitoris was throbbing with pleasure. Already, I was feeling the tremendous pleasure of the pending release - the orgasm.
"Oh, Lord," 'I moaned, and his tool sank deeply into my box.
He pumped hard, rubbing his cock against my clit.
He came, and I came.
"I didn't mean for you to enjoy this," he said, as he discharged into my vagina.
"I know you didn't," I said.
"So, you attempt to thwart my plans, eh?"
"I'm sorry."
"It's too late for apologies now."
I feared the worst. And I was indeed going to get the worst. He was going to really let me have it.
I could see it in his eyes as he pulled his cock out of my pussy, and again rolled me over oh my belly.
Why, I asked myself, did this have to go on and on? I wondered when it would all be finished.
I wanted to know that more than anything.
I couldn't believe his sexual stamina. It seemed that he could go on and on for an indefinite period of time.
My ass was so sore from the previous intrusion, not to mention the attack of the shits, that it felt like sandpaper wrapped around a bowling pin, inside out, as the huge Japanese phallus was slowly pressed up my ass.
This was the end, I figured.
I thought for sure that I would have to suffer for the rest of my life with ulcerative colitis, because of the rough handling my ass was taking.
Kenji thrust his tool powerfully down into my asshole. I was crying hysterically by this point. There didn't seem to be any reason to fake it after all he had put me through.
It seemed to be a joke. A very rude, cruel joke - and I was the butt of this sick sense of humor.
Kenji Matsui bit the back of my neck savagely. It was like an attack by a vampire.
I wondered if there could be such a thing as Japanese vampires.
His cock was pounding without mercy in and out of my asshole.
It was almost more than I could bear.
His organ sank all the way into the depths of my asshole, and there he discharged again - one more time for bad luck.
He seemed, finally, to be satisfied, as he pulled his rod out of my asshole.
"There, I'll bet you sure enjoyed all of this," he smiled, rolling on his back by my side.
"I sure as hell knew you were a masochist when I first met you," he said.
"I have some news for you," I said, "I'm no masochist. Oh, I might be a slight masochist, but I'm not a sicko wacko like you are."
"You watch your tongue, if you want to leave. I wouldn't mind at all clenching your throat, and watching you turn every shade of blue, before you swallowed your tongue, and your eyes popped out, and your face turned black."
"Would you really like to do such a thing?"
"I sure would," he said. "It turns me on just to think about it. It would be so much fun to kill you. That's the ultimate in sexual perversion."
"Please don't do that."
"Say pretty please."
I was fighting now for my life. I couldn't go against him. That would be certain death.
"No, come to think of it," he said, "that would be quite stupid of me. You will live. I have a feeling you're going to punish yourself quite enough. No, ho more physical abuse for you. I think you've understood what I was trying to tell you."
"You were trying to tell me something? That's how you communicate?"
"Don't try to understand me," he said. "The Oriental mind is quite complex. It is above understanding. You couldn't hope to come close."
"Would you just tell me one thing?".! said, as I dressed.
"Yes, what is it?"
"Why was it so damn important for you to hurt me? What could you possibly hope to benefit from that?"
"It makes me feel good. It's as simple as that. Oh, don't play so innocent, white woman. It's quite apparent what you're all about. You obviously enjoy- suffering. You bring it upon yourself. I was just helping you. out. I was an extension of your own will. How do you like that?"
"I don't want to believe it."
"But it's very true," he said. "It is obvious you wanted to suffer. You wanted to suffer very much. You found me out, as much as I found you. That's how it works. I've spent many years studying Zen, and the forces of Ying and Yang."
"I don't know anything about that sort of stuff," I said, finally dressed, "but I don't believe a word of it. There's some sort of curse hanging over me. And I aim to understand it."
"Sure there is a curse. It's hanging all about you. But it's not from outside you. It's something you did to yourself. You put the curse upon yourself. It was all your doing."
"I don't want to listen to such nonsense. First you attack my body, and now you attack my mind. What sort of a witch are you?"
"I'm no witch. It is you my dear. It is quite obvious that I am acting as a mirror for you right now. You are merely seeing yourself."
"Liar!"
CHAPTER SIX
I was hurting for nearly a month after that run in with Kenji Matsui. It was all becoming just too intense for me. I didn't like it that way at all. For me, it had to be mellow. I was beginning to change, or so it seemed. But change comes slow and hard.
I had gone through a great deal of trouble from the age of eight. And it didn't seem to be getting any better. In fact, it seemed to become worse, all the time. It was like a great punishment. But what was I being punished for? And who was doing the punishing? It was becoming increasingly obvious that it was me. I was doing it. I was doing it to myself.
But how to stop it? I wondered if Kenji really knew. All that talk about him being a mirror, sort of made sense - at the time. Now, it makes plenty of sense. It's crystal clear, in fact. Back then, however, it didn't make much sense at all. It was all rather confusing to me, in fact.
Kenji was a mirror. And so was Burt Bergman, and Allan Crane. I had lured them to me, somehow. Like a harpooned sail fish draws sharks from the scent of its blood, so was I drawing these men to me.
But why? That's what I had to understand, before I could change. I had to understand the root causes. My terrible sexual experiences were only the symptoms. I had to find the cancer in my psyche, and cut it out of me.
I got into my studies. I hadn't a clue to what was going on inside my mind, and my being. I hoped that by laboring diligently with my fashion design studies, I would simply grow out of the pattern.
I rarely went out during those years at school. Masturbation became my only sexual outlet.
It was all that mattered to me. It was the whole ballgame.
After graduation, I found a nice position in a well known design house. I was surrounded by brilliant people, and hot-shot executives. I tried not to become involved with any of them. I knew that I still had the problem.
My instinct to suffer, at the hands of a sexual abuser, was still very much active in me.
I made a slip though. As much as I tried to not get involved with any of the people I worked with, I did. I became involved with a woman - a model, a very attractive Hispanic woman named Ena.
I thought it would be different, with another woman. I had only had that one lesbian experience in my life - with Sally Green, when I was eight. She wasn't exactly an angel, the way she lured me to her bed, to be abused by her and her husband.
But it was softer with a woman. And that's what was important to me. The softness is what mattered. It mattered a great deal to me.
Ena worked as a model for the fashion house I designed for. She looked lovely in the dresses I designed. I thought she wore my designs quite well.
So did she. That was practically all we talked about, for hours, after we first met.
"I just love your clothes, honey," Ena said to me, catching me in the hall one day. "You certainly have a flair for design. And your good taste just astounds me. I really don't know what to make of you."
"You don't need to make anything of me," I said. "I'm not so great. I'm just a young designer, fresh out of school. I have a few ideas ... "
"Honey, you have got to believe more in yourself. You most definitely have what it takes. Yep, you sure do. I know a genius when I see one, and you are certainly one of them."
I took a good look at her. The way she talked seemed to be in so much contrast to the way she looked. She was such a sophisticated looking woman. She was thin, tall, with dark curly hair - curlier than mine - and a striking figure.
She did indeed wear my designs quite well. It was as if my clothes were cut just for her lovely figure.
I felt a certain, generalized sexual attraction for her. She seemed nice, and was so kind in the things she said to me. I guess I was a bit insecure. I needed to hear all those good things. The compliments were like manna from heaven. And I was hungry for it.
"I sure would like to talk to you about fashion, and design, and so on," Ena said. "What are you doing tonight?"
"Oh, I was just going to stay home and read."
"It wouldn't hurt for you to get out into life a bit," Ena said. "Go for it. It will be fun. Come to my place. I'll make you some dinner. We'll have a good time."
I don't know why I agreed to go to Ena's for dinner. It was a big mistake. I should have known it would work out weird. And it did. It worked out very weird - which, since I was still sick, was to be expected.
These bizarre sexual relationships were what convinced me that I was not yet over the problem.
In a way, that was a valuable service these people were performing for me. I was able to measure my progress towards sound health by these sick relationships. They were like physicians, making a diagnosis, as they reacted to me.
Ena's apartment was very lovely. She was really a high fashion model, with all the trimmings, and nice things that go along with it.
It was so much fun to look about her apartment, at the photos of her which I had seen periodically on magazine covers. She was indeed a cover girl - in more ways than one.
She was very much on the surface. She was very much covering up something with her great beauty. And what she was covering up, was the thing she had in common with all the other folk I had had sexual relations with.
She was sick. She had a need to hurt. She wanted to hurt me.
"Would you like a drink?" she smiled.
"Sure. How about a Gin and Tonic?"
She fixed one for herself as well. I watched her sway sensuously towards me, as she offered me the drink. I could see her breasts pressing against her blouse. Her hips were gentle and shapely. Everything about her was just wonderful. Oh so very wonderful.
I was on my back on the floor before I knew it, and she was sitting beside me.
She had tripped me; it was some sort of judo move.
"What the hell?"
"Keep your panties on, honey," the woman said. "You wanted me to do that, didn't you?"
"Oh, Christ, not again!"
"Oh, you get into this sort of stuff frequently?"
"More than I wish."
"You wouldn't be this way if you didn't want to."
"That's not true," I said. "I just can't accept that."
"Well, if it happens a lot, there must be a reason for it."
"Yeah, there's a reason for it," I said. "I have shitty luck. That's what it is."
"Come on, don't take it all so seriously. It's all right to be into S&M, sexual slavery."
"But I don't want to be. I want to have a normal life - not a sick life. Can't you understand that?"
"Yes," she said. "I can understand that."
"Then why did you knock me down to the ground?"
"Because I want you," she said, opening my dress, and running her hand over my breast. She squeezed my tit passionately, pulling at my nipple. I felt my nipple harden. Then she moved her hand to my other breast, and pulled at that nipple as well.
"You have nice breasts," she said.
I didn't say anything. It was the same old story. I was rooted to the floor. I was beginning to wonder if my entire life would be spent on my back, like a rug, a pile of dust -utterly useless. Maybe it was all true, what Kenji had said.
But I couldn't imagine how I had -attracted this woman to me. I just couldn't fathom it.
She tore my dress off my body, and ripped my panties off. Again, I couldn't move. I just let her do these things to me.
Then she began to undress.
She removed her clothes slowly. It didn't matter though. She wasn't wearing anything beneath her skirt and blouse. No bra, no panties. She had a lovely figure, and I must admit that I felt sexually attracted towards her.
She was slightly taller than me. Her breasts were full and shapely, and topped with pinkened nipples. I moved my hand gently over her breast, squeezing it lovingly, and moving my finger tips over her hardened nipples, as she lay beside me.
I felt her press up against me. Her dark, Hispanic flesh felt warm against me. I felt cold. Her body pressed hard, and her lips met mine in a hot, sensual embrace. Her tongue slipped down into my mouth, and I sucked at it. We sucked at each other's breasts, while fondling each other's pussy.
She turned me on my side to face her. I felt very peculiar, lying there like that. I felt cold - frozen cold.
"Come on, bitch," she said, "don't pull this cold crap on me. Give me some affection."
But I couldn't move. I felt frozen.
Ena grabbed me by the hair, practically pulling it out by the roots. She jerked my head about, and pressed her mouth to mine. Her tongue was hot, firm, and smooth as it glided into my mouth.
I felt my body relax. I was half expecting her to run off and get ropes to tie me up. Probably, in my sick mind, I would have liked that. God only knows how I. got into this predicament.
Ena pressed her body against mine. Her small, firm breasts pressed against my chest. Her vagina was throbbing against mine. I was filled with hot sexual need. As she pumped up against me, rubbing her pussy over my pussy, touching her clitoris to mine, I felt a hot rush of passion. My clit was immediately hot and firm.
Sexual relief was on the way. Or so it seemed.
I should have known there would be a Catch-22 to it all.
Ena moved her mouth from mine, down to my breast. She kissed my tittie passionately, and taking my swollen nipple into her mouth, sucked me until my body was overwhelmed with hot passion.
She moved her mouth to my other breast, and sucked at that nipple as well.
The lovely Hispanic woman moved her hand down to my pussy, rubbing my bush, as her mouth moved slowly down towards my cunt.
I could feel my hot pussy juices begin to dribble from my slit. I was hot between the legs. I was burning up with passion fever. She sucked at my navel, while her fingers explored the nooks and crannies of my vagina. She pressed her digits into my pussy, working them about, and then took my clit between her fingers. She began to pull at my clit meat. I was pounding with hot sexual tension between the legs.
My entire body was throbbing with sexual hunger and need.
I was absolutely on fire with sexual longing. Ena had gotten through to me. I wasn't sure how she was going to do it, but I knew that she was going to make me suffer. Somehow I would suffer. I could count on it.
I felt a finger move up into my anus, as her mouth fastened to my vagina. She began kissing and tenderly biting at my entire vagina. She took my clit into her mouth and nibbled on it. I felt a rush of hot passion through my entire body.
She kissed me passionately on the mouth, and worked her loving lips down to my pussy. While she worked her fingers in and out of my asshole, she took my clit into her mouth, and sucked.
Talk about pleasure. I thought that was just going to be the pleasure to top all pleasures.
While she ran her finger in and out of my asshole, she sucked at my clit. She bit it and pulled at it, and I felt my orgasm rushing towards me.
Just when I was on the brink of letting go, however, she suddenly pulled her mouth away from-my pussy.
"Why?" I cried out with .a sense of injustice.
"Come, come, my dear," Ena laughed. "What made you think it would be easy?"
"I should have known," I lamented.
"You are a fool if you are looking for miracles in life. Life is a long, spiraling trail of pain and suffering. That's all it is. Don't go looking for sugar plum fairies, and gum drop mountains. Life is just a pile of shit."
"Where do all you come from?" I said.
"There's only one of me, honey. Do you need glasses?"
"I need something. But, I was referring to all the others who came before you. you are only one of many."
"Oh, I see," she said. "Well, if I am only one of many, than you shouldn't mind any of this."
"What are you going to do to me? Are you going to tie me up, and whip me?"
"My what a graphic imagination you have. Hardly! I work for the same company you do. Do you think I would do something to you - to the star designer - which could possibly damage my career?"
"Well, at least you're not stupid."
"No, I'm not stupid," Ena said. "And to show you just how smart I am, listen to this proposition I have for you - if you would like to get dressed, and leave, right now, you are most welcome to. Go ahead. Just get up and leave. That would be just fine with me."
"Shit, you are sick. Do you know that?"
"Get up and leave if you think so. Maybe I'm too sick for you."
I certainly learned a major lesson of life with Ena. I couldn't get up and leave. I couldn't even if I wanted to. I was firmly rooted to the carpet. It was as if I had sprouted roots.
"Well, that takes care of that," she smiled. "Now, that you have decided to stay, won't you dine on my lovely pussy?"
She rolled over on her back and spread her legs apart. I stared down into her cunt. I must admit I felt a certain attraction for her - for her beauty, youth, and womanhood.
I took her into my arms, and kissed her passionately on the mouth. My tongue then worked down, over her breasts, across the plane of her belly, to the juicy, hot, succulent slash between her legs.
I pressed my fingers into her box, and lowered my mouth to her clit. I nibbled at the firm fuck meat, listening to her groan with passion. Hot juices ran from her sex into my mouth. My tongue worked about inside her pit. I kissed her pussy lips tenderly, lovingly. I took the firm little clit into my mouth, and sucked it - wanting to give her pleasure.
Again, it was the sex slave trip. I only wanted to serve, to deliver pleasure. I don't know what was wrong. It was all so sick. I sucked, and licked, and felt her clit throb in my mouth. She was becoming rapidly filled with pleasure. She was burning up with pleasure.
I pressed a finger into her pussy, and worked it about, while nibbling on her clit meat.
She began to discharge hotly. Thick, hot vaginal juices began to pour from her slit. I worked my tongue about in her hole, and then up over her clit. I could feel her firm clit meat throbbing in my mouth. I worked my fingers in and out of her pussy and assholes, while I sucked at her sex.
Like a good little sex slave, I wanted her to feel good. I was right in there, between her legs, caressing her pussy and assholes with my fingers, while sucking at her clitoris.
She reached up for her own breasts, and squeezed them tenderly, taking her nipples between her fingers and pulling at them. Her paps rapidly swelled with passion.
She was moaning. It was clear to me that Ena was going to come. But I didn't try to pull my mouth away from her sex. I was going to let her come. I didn't see any reason for tormenting her. That was always the big difference between my sexual tormentors and myself. I just wasn't like that. I liked to think that I was a good person. Then why did I have such a penchant for suffering.
I'm no fool. I've read plenty about psychology and alt that. Only now, some three years after all of that shit in my life, I'm beginning to understand what it's all about.
It's finally beginning to make sense.
It was all something to do with my parents. I suppose that because I was only eight when all of that had happened, I was very much like a child. I wanted my parents to be proud of me.
Subconsciously, I thought they wanted me to have sexual relations with the Greens. To a child's mind, it made sense. After all, if they didn't want me to have sex with the Greens, then why did they send me to them for a four day weekend?
And the myth continued in my mind all those years. So, symbolically, at least, Ena was my mother. I was sucking my own mother's cunt - in my mind. I didn't know it at the time, but that's exactly what was going on in my warped mind.
I was fucking my parents, every time I was with a man or a woman. I was trying to to give pleasure, like a young girl gives pleasure. I wanted my parent's love. And I was willing to grovel, and suffer to give my surrogate parents the love I thought they wanted. Naturally, because what the Greens had done to me was cruel, I continued to the pattern.
I was like a masochistic telegraph, sending out continuous messages, begging for pain, for punishment, and for humiliation.
It was a stupid, self destructive way to live, but that was me. It was just the way I was.
What's a girl to do, when she's so confused?
Ena began to come. She moaned, and screamed with pleasure as her body became engulfed in hot passion. She trembled from head to foot with pleasure as the orgasm swept through her, like a tidal wave.
It was momentous. It was a huge, cathartic orgasm.
"You are an excellent pussy licker," Ena moaned, as she came again and again. "This is how sex was meant to be. This is how I want it to be - always."
That made me feel good. Like a stupid little girl I was pleased that I pleased someone. Nothing else seemed to matter.
"I suppose you would like to come?" Ena asked, with a cruel glint in her eye.
"Yes. May I?"
"Yes, after you lick out my asshole," Ena said.
I should have known that there would be a price to pay. I should have known that I simply couldn't have pleasure, just because I had given pleasure to the lovely model.
She got up on her hands and knees, wiggling her lovely ass in my face. "Do me good." I didn't know how to do anything, but good.
I moved in tightly behind her lovely ass, and spread her ass cheeks apart. I kneaded her tender ass flesh with my fingers, and spread her globes apart. I blew hot air down over her anus, and slowly pressed my tongue down into her asshole. I worked it about inside her rectum, and pressed several fingers into her pussy hole.
She throbbed all over with hot, glorious pleasure.
My tongue searched deeply inside her anus. She moaned louder and louder. "Yes, white lady, you do make me feel good. You make me feel very good. Keep it up. Don't stop. It's glorious."
At least I had the satisfaction of knowing that I was doing a good job. I pressed my tongue slowly up into her behind. She moaned with delight as I tongued her. She was burning up with passion from it. She liked it plenty.
I slowly began to work on her clitoris again, with my fingers, while my tongue searched about inside her asshole. I was delighting her. I was filling her with passion and delight.
And she was most definitely getting off on it. I rubbed her firm, red clit, while my tongue pumped in and out of her asshole.
"That's it, girl," she sighed, "you're doing a splendid job. You are just turning me on so much. I don't know what to do."
I felt a hot shudder of passion pass through me. My body shook from head to toe. I was overwhelmed by it all. I was engulfed with it all. I was lost completely in this realm of hot sexuality.
She came again.
I was pleased. Not only that I had pleased her, but I knew that it was finally going to be my turn' to have a little pleasure from all of this. I would, at last, be allowed to come. And that meant a great deal to me.
That, I think, is quite normal.
It's important that things have meaning. And this most certainly had meaning. It was the meaning of her tongue in my pussy.
"Can I please have an orgasm now?" I asked.
"Of course," Ena smiled. "You have earned the right. I don't want you to think that I'm totally selfish. Because I am not."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes," Ena said. "You just lie on your back, and spread your legs, and I'll show you what a wonderful girl I can be."
I did as I was told. I spread my legs widely.
"You have such a cute little pussy," she smiled. "I think I am really going to enjoy getting you off. Yes, it's going to be a treat for me. It's hardly going to be work at all."
She moved in tightly between my thighs, and pressed her mouth against my vagina. She ran her tongue into my pussy, and then up against my clit. My clit button began to throb in her mouth. She worked her teeth over it tenderly, and began to pull at it.
Her fingers went up into my pussy and asshole. She was filling me with hot sexual lust.
I was burning up from the pleasure of it all. My entire body was like a conduit of pleasure.
I was beginning to see the light. At least I liked to think it was that way. I wanted to think that I was beginning to emerge from the forest of illusion. At least I was with someone who was giving me pleasure. I had to go through a great deal to get this far, but it seemed that things were most definitely improving.
And that meant a great deal to me. I felt that I was on the way to some normalcy in my life. Thank God.
I wrapped my legs around Ena's shoulders, and sighed with delight while she sucked at me. I simply wasn't used to such nice treatment. I was suddenly happy that I was alive. There seemed to be a great golden light at the end of the tunnel.
I was filled with hope, not to mention hot sexual sensations, as I was overwhelmed with pleasure. The pleasure just went on and on. There didn't seem to be any end to it.
And then I came.
"Oh, Ena, God bless you," I moaned, as my orgasm thundered through my entire being. I was filled with pleasure. I was alive with it. I was pleased more than I've ever been pleased before by it all. It was just the way I always thought sex should be. It was warm, loving, and fulfilling. That was the first time that it even approximated all the expectations I had. I was getting close to the truth.
I was getting close to total fulfillment.
There was still a long ways to go. But it was nearer than farther. And that was the first time in my life that it seemed that way. I actually began to fantasize a life of happiness. That was very difficult for me to accept. But it all seemed real. And possible.
It could actually happen I realized. I could have happiness. It was a brand new possibility for me. It was delighting, fulfilling, wonderful. I was overwhelmed by it all.
After I came, Ena lay by my side, kissing me tenderly on the face, and nibbling lovingly at my lips.
I had no idea there could be so much affection in life. And Ena was hardly an affectionate person. What I was getting from her were crumbs. And they seemed enough - more than enough.
I was starving for love and gentleness.. I didn't even know it- T didn't know that it could even exist - be that way.
"Have you ever been fucked with a dildo?" she asked.
"No. Will it hurt?"
"It might, a bit, it's a big leather number," she smiled. "But you like pain, don't you?"
"It's not that I like pain," I said. "It's not that at all. It's more that I feel pain is all I can get out of life."
"Well, that's absolutely sick. But I won't argue that with you know. It's obvious "that we were meant to be together, so that I can give you pain. You obviously need pain."
"I want to grow out of it," I explained.
"Well, until that happens, I don't mind at all giving you a little pain. The trouble with you, I reckon, is that you are simply spoiled rotten. Everything has come much to easily to you. You need to slow down. You need to take it easier.
"I guess that's true," I said.
Ena went to the hall closet, and came back .with the dildo. It was indeed large. I would say that it was no less than eleven inches long - and maybe larger.
Ena looked funny to me, with the long leather dong strapped around her hips. She looked like a man, with tits. What a weapon that dildo was. My pussy tightened right up, even at the thought of taking the huge tiling inside of me.
"Don't panic," Ena said. "It won't be so bad. In fact, it will be nice. You simply lie there, and I'll slid it in real slow and easy. You don't mind, do you?"
"As a matter of fact," I said, "I am a bit frightened. I mean, it is a very large leather instrument. I don't know if I could deal with having it inside of me."
"Oh, it won't hurt you," she said. "Well, maybe just a little. But it's no big deal."
"You knew that I would take the pain, didn't you?"
"Of course I did," she laughed. "It's quite obvious to me that you are still into pain. And I don't mind at all giving you some. I must admit, a bit of the sadist lurks in me."
"Why do we all have to be so sick? Why can't we be normal?"
"Life just doesn't operate that way," she said. "Now, open up wide, and get ready, for here I come."
She seemed like a man as she moved in between my legs, pressing the tip of the large leather cock into my pussy.
It was much larger than any human cock I've ever had inside of me. And that freaked me out quite a bit.
She had a strange smile on her face - a sick, sadistic glow about her - as she pressed the 'leather cock slowly into my box.
I moaned with discomfort. There was nothing pleasurable about what was happening to me. Nothing pleasurable at all. There was only a masochistic willingness to accept such terrible treatment.
That was why I didn't protest so much that she stopped doing it to me. I wanted more of it. I was still sick. That's for sure.
She was pressing the leather cock in and out of my pussy. She had a strange look on her face - as if orgasm was approaching. I looked down and noticed that part of the cock shaft was rubbing against her clit, as she drove the leather tool deeper into me. The cock had, apparently, been designed that way.
It wasn't so bad in the pussy. I did accommodate to the size of the tool. The vagina is, after all, a very accommodating organ. All sorts of cocks can go into the pussy, and all sorts of babies - large and small - come out of the pussy.
I stretched widely to accommodate the large organ. Ena was groaning on the verge of orgasm as the leather pressed up against her clit, while the tool worked in and out of my vagina.
She slowly pulled the organ out of my pussy, and pressed it up against my anus.
That was too much.
"Please, it's too big. It surely wasn't designed to go inside a young woman's anus."
"It was designed to do whatever I want it to," she said.
She had me on my tummy. "It should fit inside you with more ease, in this position."
I felt full of pain as she pressed the huge dildo slowly up my asshole. It was throbbing as it sank slowly into my behind. It was large, and it shook with the rhythm of her body.
It was obvious she was hot to get into it. -She completely ignored my screams of pain, and pleas for mercy.
She rammed the huge dildo slowly into my behind. It sank deeper and deeper into me. She was spreading me open with the leather dildo. She was giving me great pain.
I began to weep. I wasn't just crying because of the pain. I was crying from a sense of defeat. I was still not there. I was still not free of the need to suffer.
I prayed to God - even as Ena was shoving the instrument deeply into my asshole - that I still had a long way to go.
And so did the dildo. I was nearly faint from the pain, yet the monstrous instrument wasn't even half way into my behind.
Oh, Lord, I wondered when it would all end. I wondered when the pain would stop, and my crazy need to suffer. I had to let go of it. It was like a sickness, and illness.
But, at least I was becoming aware of where I was at, and what I was about. I tried to find a comfortable position, for taking the huge instrument inside me. But there just was no position of comfort. It was all a huge fallacy.
Or rather, phallus. And it was all the way in, my ass. Again, I saw those stars before my eyes. I was on the verge of passing out. I was so used to those stars, that I felt they were part of my own personal universe.
It was my world. A world of pain and suffering. Oh, I wanted it to stop. I couldn't go through the changes fast enough. But, like all major changes, these came slowly. Life only presented what it wanted to. There was no rushing anything. There was simply no such thing as forcing the hands of time.
This was the clock that mattered. When all human made clocks stopped ticking, the old clock of life would continue ticking away. And it would not stop. There was simply no end to it. No end at all.
The huge leather penis was shoved all the way up my ass. I felt my body shake with pain. A searing, white hot flash of burning pain shot up along my spine. I thought I was for sure one dead lady. I could hear Ena moaning orgasmically in the background, as I dove into the field of blackness, and stars.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Again, I was off on my own in a world I just "couldn't understand. I was beginning to wonder what life was all about. I just couldn't stand the idea of going on and on like this.
Thoughts of suicide crossed my mind. All that kept me alive, was the memory of that golden light at the end of my tunnel �of suffering. I knew that something lay out there for me. There would be redemption.
I had to believe it. I stayed clear of sex again for a long time. I was twenty four, and out of the fashion trade. The designing job got to be simply too intense for me.
I took a job in a nightclub, as a hostess. The pay was good and I figured it would all work out well for me. I wanted to think so, in any case.
The owner of the club was this really macho Latin fellow named Jose Limon. I knew there would be trouble with him when I took the job. But I figured that was simply part of the ball game. I knew that for some reason, I was meant to be there with him, in the Club Latin a.
It did seem rather strange to me that they would hire a white chick like me. One would think that in the Club Latina, they would at least have a Latina working as hostess.
Jose hired me for other reasons. I suppose I knew, subconsciously, what those reasons were. I was certainly going to find out.
He was such a brutal asshole. God, I sure knew how to pick masochistic situations. I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment.
He used to sit at the bar, watching me. He would hardly ever even speak to me.
Always in that dammed white suit, with a black silk shirt, and white silk tie. He liked to look like a hoodlum. He always wore his hair greasy, and combed straight back. He sported a Clark Gable style moustache. Some nights he would wear black and white wing tipped shoes, and a white panama.
What a joke. I suppose he thought he looked cool.
At the club, when I was working, I wore expensive, tight fitting dresses, with deep slits along the sides.
Like I said, he was really into the Latin macho trip. He was from Columbia, which even made it worse. From what I gather, the men in Columbia are the worst of all - real macho motherfuckers.
Jose would leer lewdly at me, as he sat at the bar, watching me hostess. I could feel his eyes on me, on my ass, on my slits, and so on. I thought it was all quite sick.
Yet I stayed on the job. I reckon I was just as sick as the rest of them.
It happened one night. It had to. It was two. The joint was closed. Everyone had left but Jose, and me.
He had asked me to stay around. He had something to tell me, or so he said.
"You ever fuck around with a South American?" he asked.
"Not a man."
"Oh, but you fucked around with a Latin lady, then?"
"Yeah, once."
The way he was looking at me while we talked was absolutely disgusting. It was as though he was undressing me with his eyes.
He had lewd, sick thoughts about me. I could read it in his eyes. It made me sick. It made me feel as though I was being used. I was being used. I was going to be even more used. And abused.
I asked for it. I was working there. I took the job. God, when would I learn? That's what I kept asking myself.
"You come with me to the office," he said.
Of course I went with him. I was asking for it. I knew exactly what was going down. It was no mystery to me.
He closed the door behind us. I could hear the lock click. He meant business.
"I've been wondering what you have under that dress," he said, smiling, his greasy hair reflecting the overhead light.
"Well, you can just wonder all you want." I figured I would give him a hard time. We both knew he was going to get what he wanted; in any case.
"Don't give me that kind of shit, white girl," he snapped. "I'm not taking any shit off you. You want this job?"
"You know I need it," I said.
"Then you just do what I say, you hear that?"
"Yes, sir."
"And I don't want any white trash talk out of your pretty little mouth. You comprende that?"
"Yeah, I got you."
"Then why aren't you taking off your clothes? You wouldn't want me to spoil your pretty little dress by ripping it off your shoulders, would you?"
"You wouldn't."
"I would," he said, stepping towards me.
I was shaking all over with fear again. In fact, I was terrified. The guy was really capable of heavy cruelty. I could see it in his eyes. It was all about him. He was a real sick bastard. A very sick one.
I pulled my dress off over my head.
I wasn't wearing a bra, but I was wearing panties, stockings, and a garter belt.
"My, don't we look cute?"
"You don't look so cute to me," I said.
"I might just have to slap you around a bit," he said. "But you wouldn't mind that, would you?"
"You got me wrong, Jose. I'm not that kind of girl. I'm looking for a break in life. I would like to know just why it is that I have to go through so much shit."
"You just look like a girl who enjoys a little sexual sport. You like a man who is really a man. I'll just knock you around a bit, so that you know that a real man is with you."
"A real man doesn't have to knock a woman about," I said.
"Well, we'll just have to see about that," he said, as he grabbed me by my curly dark hair and slapped me across the face.
I saw those good old stars again.
What sort of life was that?
Well, it wasn't much of a life at all. That's what it was.
He knocked me to the ground.
I've been wondering what it is you hide so well beneath your panties.
He grabbed at my panties and ripped them away from my pelvis.
I didn't scream or anything. I didn't see the point. I knew that somehow I had asked for all of this to happen. And that's why it was happening.
"Oh, yes," he looked sickly at me, "I just knew you had a pretty snatch. And I just can't wait to take a firm hold of it, and squeeze it a bit. Yep, I'm going to do that. I'm going to suck on it, and bite it. It's going to feel really nice to me. Maybe it will feel nice to you, too. But I'll bet a white chick like you doesn't even know what it means to feel good."
I didn't want to listen to that kind of talk. It didn't do much for me at all.
He pressed his mouth roughly and rudely against mine. He was treacherous the way he kissed me. He bit at my lip, and shoved his tongue into my mouth. I almost gagged on it.
He was wearing a cheap cologne. I think it was Milk of Magnolia, or something trashy like that. I thought I would retch from the smell of him. His thickly pomaded hair reeked of lilac. What a combination. I was sickened by his presence.
He sucked at my breast, biting my nipple severely. I couldn't stand the pain. Then he switched to my other breast, and bit that nipple savagely. The pain was unbearable.
I sure knew how to pick them.
His mouth moved down to my neck. It felt like a vampire was about to sink his fangs into me.
His hand pressed against my breast, and he squeezed it savagely. He sucked at my clitoris, bit it, and then moved back up to my breasts.
Hot perspiration was dripping down off his forehead. It mingled with the pomade, so that a thick, oily mess dribbled down his face. It was disgusting.
The oily sweat dripped on me as well. It felt like hot bacon fat dripping over me.
It was just about as unpleasant as a sexual experience could be.
When his greasy, sweaty face was pressed between my thighs, and he was sucking at my moistened cunt, I thought I would cry from the feeling of humiliation.
It was a lot like being with Billy Bad. The same feeling of being used, like some three dimensional scum rag haunted me.
He spread my vaginal lips apart with his fingers, and ran his tongue over my inner cunt flesh. The inner lips glowed with a strange sort of heat, as his tongue traced the outline of my cunt. His tongue then burrowed into my hole, and rubbed up against my tender clitoris. I was being overwhelmed by it all. I was going nuts with the pleasure.
But how long would it last? That was the important question in my mind.
Not long, as I soon found out. He bit my clit savagely. The pain was intense. I could barely deal with it.
"Please, you're hurting me."
"Yes, please, I will hurt you some more, no?"
It was like trying to communicate to a dog. It was hopeless to try to explain to him that there was more to it all than this. I wanted him to know that we didn't have to limit ourselves so much.
There could be some pleasure. There could be some progress.
More pie in the sky.
Thank God he was in a hurry to get his rocks off. Otherwise, I'm sure he would have actually bitten my clitoris off in his over enthusiasm.
He didn't even get undressed. That's the kind of clown he was "I don't mind the wrinkles," he said. "I like it kinky that way."
He unzipped his trousers, and pulled out his huge South American special. It looked like a giant burrito. I couldn't imagine that hot pepper going up me. It was fatter than the leather dildo Ena had abused me with.
"Don't you like my manhood?" he smiled.
"Yeah, really nice."
"I sense some sarcasm in your voice," he said.
"My, aren't we bright?"
He slapped me savagely across the, face. Again, those stars were dancing in the night before me.
"You suck on this until it shoots off. And if you want to look pretty in the face after tonight - without blackened eyes, a broken nose, and torn lips - you'd better swallow every last drop of it."
So, that was his trip. He was the worst of all. I figured that I was heading right back into the center of the storm. I was beginning to wonder if there would ever be a chance. I was beginning to wonder if there was really a light at the end of the tunnel. Perhaps it had only been one of those stars."
I nearly dislocated my jaw trying to accommodate Jose's overly large cock.
He shoved the monster slowly into my mouth, and closed his eyes with glorious delight - the selfish bastard.
I could barely swallow. And to make matters worse, my nose was clogged from a summer cold.
I thought of being in the tub, with Kenji holding me under.
I really was having a hard time getting air. He began pumping his organ in and out of my mouth.
He jammed up against the back of my throat, nearly making me gag. He worked his tool continuously in and out of my mouth. His hairy south of the border nuts were slapping against my chin as his cock purged my mouth. I could smell the odor of his asshole, and taste the putrid aroma on the tip of his pedro.
I was beginning to wonder how a nice looking girl like me could end up with a foul slob like Jose.
In and out of my mouth he pumped his organ. It was throbbing wildly. He was going to come. I could sense it. Hot, salty sweat off his hairy balls dripped on my face, while his huge organ pumped in and out of my mouth. It wasn't going to be long. Soon, he was going to come.
"Get ready, bitch," he scowled, and then he shot his load of hot spunk into my mouth. I swallowed it up. I didn't know what else to do.
It was a question of swallow, or suffocate. I chose to swallow. At least I opted for life. I wasn't down for the count. Not yet.
After I had milked Jose, his organ was still stiff, and poised for more carnal mischief.
"Oh, I'm going to fuck you good now," he smiled, his face all shiny with greasy sweat.
He had a dumb, bovine expression on his face.
He moved between my legs, holding his stiff organ tightly in hand. He took aim with it, and slid it slowly into my box.
I felt the huge organ slide slowly into my cunt. It filled me completely, and began vibrating about in my hole. In and out he pushed. His nuts were hard, like acorns, 'as they bounced against my labial lips.
The huge organ was smashing in and out of my pussy. My anus was puckered tightly with fear. I knew he would be making a play for my anus as well.
His huge body loomed over me as he pumped powerfully in and out of my cunt. I felt his organ smash down deeply into my pussy. I was overwhelmed by it all. It was painful. There was nothing pleasurable about it.
I didn't think I could go on much longer, living this sort of a life. It just didn't make sense. I didn't see the point. It seemed as though I was wasting my life.
I wanted to give it just a little bit more. I wanted to try to find some answer.
I knew I couldn't turn to the field of psychiatry. I knew that those shrinks are simply a bunch of overly paid, overly touted, hucksters.
No, I, had to find the answer on my own.
I was thinking about all of this, while Jose Limon was pumping his organ powerfully in and out of my pussy.
It was all rather disgusting, I thought. There I was, on my back, with his huge schlong pounding down into me. He was huffing and puffing, like the wolf at the door. He was going to come again. I braced myself for the onslaught of hot come.
But Jose chose not to shoot off into my cunt.
He pulled out, suddenly.
"No, Debbie," he said, "I want you to roll over and show me your ass. I have a special treat for you."
"No, please, it's much too big for buggery."
"You catch on real fast."
He turned me over and spread my cheeks apart. He began shoving his cock down into my ass. He wasn't even going to give me a chance to get used to the idea.
He was just going to shove his dong down into my ass.
He pressed down deeply inside my ass. It felt like molten metal being poured down into my ass. It hurt terribly. It was a terrible, painful, disgusting sensation.
It just didn't seem like there would ever be any pleasure for me.
The time had not yet come for the reversal.
Bad karma, I guess.
He was all the way inside my asshole. His hands grabbed at me, and he shook me wildly. I felt like I was being mauled by a bear.
It was terrible. He shook me violently, grabbed at my breasts, and squeezed them painfully, pulling at my nipples, while he pounded his tool in and out of my asshole.
I was burning up with the pain of it all. It was much more than I could even begin to hope to deal with.
The pain was terrible. It was monstrous. He was fucking me like a madman in the ass.
A hot, searing pain shot up my ass. It felt as though he had torn me open. It was his come shooting into my rectum. He was coming. He was fulfilling his sick need.
The bastard!
I blacked out again.
It seemed my entire sexual life would be spent unconscious.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Like the masochistic fool that I am, I didn't quit the job. I went back the very next night, barely able to walk because of the pain in my sexual openings.
It was the same as all the other nights at the Club Latina - the same as all the nights of my life - at first.
I was hostessing at the door. I could feel Jose's eyes on my body. And I knew precisely what he was thinking. I knew just what a sick bastard he was.
It was around midnight, when he started on me. He had been drinking- He had polished off nearly a fifth of tequila. Now, a Latin man has a tendency to get a little crazy in the head from too much of that fermented cactus juice.
Jose Limon was a mean drunk.
He wanted to hurt me. That much was quite obvious. He wanted to hurt me bad.
If I didn't get out of that place, it was obvious what was going to happen. Of all the sadistic sexual task masters I had am across, Jose took the cake. He was the kind who could really kill, in a fit of sexual perversion.
He was starting to argue with me.
"I expect you to come with me back to the office at two in the morning," he said.
"Why, so you could hurt me some more?"
"You know very well that, you enjoy it as much as I do."
"The difference between me and you," I said, "is that I at least want to change. I don't want to be sick like this all my life."
"Trial by fire, honey," he reeled, his breath reeking of Latin rotgut, and lemon.
"Don't honey me."
"You just' come back to my office after work," he said, "and we'll settle all of this for once and for all."
I didn't say a word.
He went back to the bar to drink some more. I was hoping that he would drink so much that he would pass out.
And then suddenly, he was there.
He just walked into the bar like any other human being. But he just wasn't any human being. He was special. He was like a god. I could sense it about him as he entered. It was as if there was a golden glow about him.
I seated him at a nearby table. I wanted to be able to look at him. There was something about him that attracted me so much. I just couldn't believe how much I was into him.
I have never felt like that about anyone before. It was entirely new to me. Brand new. It was a grand, and glorious adventure. It was to be an adventure of life. And who could ever ask for anything more than that?
At least that was the fantasy. Just because a man looked like a living angel, didn't have to mean that he was indeed that. For all I knew, he could have been a complete asshole.
Thank God he wasn't. He had come, or so it seemed - my knight in shining armor.
I sensed two sets of eyes focused on me - Jose's, and this man's. I didn't know his name, yet, but I sure as hell was going to try to find out.
As soon as the crowd began to settle, I went over to his table. As usual, it felt as though I was being pulled, by a magnet. But this wasn't such a sick magnet. It was a special magnet.
He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. I sat down at the table beside him, and looked into his eyes.
"Hello," he said.
"Hi."
It was like love at first sight. I have never experienced anything like that before. It was all completely new to me.
"My name is Brad Dickson," he smiled. "What's yours?"
"Deb Brooks," I said. "I think I love you."
"That's a big word, my friend," he smiled, so very tenderly, that I nearly wept. I didn't know there was really such people in the world, "You look to me like a lady who has had more than her fair share of grief," he said.
"I've known what it means to suffer. But suddenly I feel that all of that is somehow behind me. It was all meaningless shit. It's all over now.-I can feel it."
"It's like passing through a dark wood, isn't it?" he smiled.
"Exactly! I've been looking for the light at the end of the tunnel for such a long time now."
"And?"
"Are you it?"
"What?"
"Are you the light at the end of the tunnel?" I asked, full of hope.
"Maybe for you."
"I want you to be."
"That's a big responsibility to shoulder. I don't know if I'm up to it."
"I'm sure you are," I gushed with enthusiasm.
"Is this joker bugging you, honey?" Jose asked. He was standing behind me, his greasy hair was reflecting the yellow glow of the candle on the table.
I looked from his greasy face over to Brad's. Brad was so serene looking. He looked like an absolute angel. I wanted to be in his arms. I wanted to make love to him.
Suddenly, I had forgotten completely about the pain. But, in a way, I think the pain simply vanished. All of that leads me to believe that it might have been mostly in my head, anyway.
"Let's go," I said to Brad.
"You're working here," Jose snapped at me. "You aren't going anywhere. And besides, you and I are supposed to be having a meeting."
"You are a total creep, you know that?"
"You're fired."
"I quit."
"Get out."
"That's exactly what we're going to do."
"Who asked you?" Jose was being vicious to Brad.
Brad played it real cool. He didn't even get angry. At least he didn't show any anger.
He rose silently from the chair, and grabbed Jose by the collar. "Listen, you little greaseball, I don't know what the hell is going on around here, but I've got a feeling that you've been picking on the little lady here."
"Yeah, and I'd do plenty more, if I had the chance."
Brad's expression didn't change one iota, as he smashed his fist into Jose's face.
It was a symbolic punch. It felt as though I had hit him myself. It was as if with that one swift punch, I had clobbered all those who had ever done anything to hurt me.
I was on the warpath. I was as angry as a wet hen.
It made me feel good to see Jose lying on the floor, his eyes closed, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth.
I kicked him in the ribs with the toe of my high heeled shoe as I passed.
"Will you come home with me?" I asked Brad.
"Does MacDonald's have golden arches?"
"I like you," I said.
"I like you, too."
When we got to my place there was no great rash to jump into bed. No, there was much more than that going on. Like we really were into each other. It was a big pleasure and all that.
It was just nice being there with him. Being close to him. We sat together on the sofa. He put his arm around me, and kissed me tenderly on the cheek.
"It was strange that I went into that bar like that," he said. "I don't normally dig bars. In fact, I think they're a drag."
"So, why did you?"
"That's just it - I don't know. It was as if I was being pulled, or guided into the bar."
"Gee, maybe I guided you in - perhaps it was my hope, my wish that you could be real."
"You are real, and so am I. This is all very real. Here we are together. And I feel like a school kid. I'm all shy, and weird."
"Don't be a big baby," I said. "You have to be strong now, because I feel like a big baby."
"I guess we're just a couple of babies together," he laughed, and pressed his lips to mine. I've never felt a kiss like that before. It was entirely new to me. It was a brand new experience.
We were kissing like a couple of kids. It was as if we were virgins. In a way, I suppose we were.
I was out of the abyss. I was sure of it. It was all so wonderful. I felt all giggly and silly, like a little girl.
I was filled with excitement, as Brad scooped me up into his arms, and carried me back to my bedroom.
He lay me on the bed, and held me closely to him. "It's never felt so right before."
"I feel the same way."
There was no rush for us to remove our clothes. It was all just a very nice, even flow of energy. We were united by a hot, fulfilling love. We were close. We were happy. We were fulfilled.
"Where have you been all my life?" he asked, as he pressed his tongue into my ear.
"And where have you been?" I asked, reaching down to his groin, and feeling the bulge of his sexual heat.
"The main thing," Brad said, beginning to pant, "Is that we are together now. And it seems that this could be the start of something big."
We kissed passionately, and worked our bodies together. Our lips closed tightly on each other's mouth. I moved my mouth down his neck, unbuttoning his shirt as I went.
I moved my mouth over his nipple, and began to suck. Then I switched to his other nipple, and sucked that as well.
"Let's get undressed," he said.
"Yes, let's," I smiled.
We helped each other undress, each admiring^ the other's body. This was entirely different. Sex was being revealed as something entirely new to me. I had no idea there could be such pleasure in life and in love.
All the pain and the suffering was now behind me. This was all so new to me.
Naked, I moved my hand slowly down-to his groin. I took his penis in hand, and squeezed it. He moaned with pleasure while I worked my hand up and down the length of his cockmeat.
"You have a nice touch," he said.
"And you have a nice cock," I said.
He kissed me passionately on the mouth, and then moved his mouth to my breast. He kissed my breast all over, and took my nipple into his mouth. He worked it about in his mouth, and then switched to the other nipple.
I was burning hot with passion. This was all entirely new to me.
I was most definitely up for it - for it all.
Before I knew what had happened, he glided in between my thighs. His mouth pressed up against my vagina. His tongue slowly entered my pussy, worked about inside me, and then pressed up against my clit. My clitoris was throbbing with sexual urgency.
I was going to come with pleasure at another person's hands, for the first time in my life. There was simply nothing sexually abusing about this at all. It was a new dimension opening up for me.
I let my body relax. I was open and willing to experience all levels of pleasure. I wanted pleasure. I just didn't want any discomfort or pain. I wanted it all to just flow sweetly.
I spread my legs widely apart, and began pumping my pussy up against his mouth. I could feel every tongue lap excite me. My body was just overwhelmed with pleasure.
I was engulfed in the flames of passion.
His tongue was expert. No one has ever sucked me quite like that before. His fingers were e working slowly, caressingly over my pussy. He toyed with both my cunt and my asshole, while his tongue continued to work over my clit.
I felt the tension build rapidly. From head to toe my body trembled with delight.
I was overwhelmed by it all. I was going to come. There was no trickery about it. It was just plain and simple good times, fun, and games. Pleasure.
Brad made me come.
My body trembled with delight and I moaned with passion as I orgasmed. My entire body was on fire with pleasure.
"Oh, Brad, thank you so much," I moaned, as I came, as my body was overcome by all this pleasure. It was more pleasure than I knew how to deal with.
I almost blacked out with passion.
But I held on. I wanted to enjoy all of this. I just didn't want any more problems. No more problems at all. I simply wasn't up for it.
I pumped and sighed as I orgasmed.
He continued to suck, so that I came again and again. It was wonderful. It was like a never ending sexual joy ride.
It seemed like it was never going to stop. I didn't want it to stop. I wanted it to go on and on and on.
Kissing, holding each other tightly, Brad Dickson shoved his cock tightly between my creamy smooth thighs. He brought his cock up against my pussy, and he rubbed back and forth. I was beginning to burn up with passion. I could feel the hot come boiling in his nuts.
We were almost united. I couldn't wait to feel his organ work down inside my vagina. I wanted to feel him deeply inside me. I wanted to be part of him.
I wanted to have his child.
Oh, diary, you must think that I did a big flip-out But it wasn't like that. It was salvation. I saw the light. All the pieces suddenly came together for me. And it meant so much to me. It meant so much indeed.
His lips were pressed closely to mine, as his huge organ sank slowly into my vagina.
It felt hot and wet and tight. I was burning up with passion and delight. I was simply overwhelmed by it all.
"Oh, my sweet loving lover," I groaned, as he shoved his organ down into my box.
We were united.
It was glorious - stupendous.
Brad hooked his arms around my thighs, and pulled my pussy up to him. He worked his organ slowly in and out of my hole. I could have sworn that I was going to come again from that.
I have never so much enjoyed the sensation of having a peter in my hole.
It was as though 'I had been born - my vagina had existed - only for Brad's cock to take pleasure in.
Yes, I realize that with Brad I was going to be a sex slave as well. But this time it was going to be good. This time I was going to feel fulfilled from it all.
And that's how I wanted it to be. That's how I wanted it to always be, I just didn't want to mess around. I wanted to just get it over with. I wanted to feel pleasure - endless pleasure.
He worked his tool in and out of my pussy.
"Do you want me to come now?"
He actually asked. He cared. I couldn't believe it.
"You come when ever you want," I said. "That will be the right time. I'm sure I'll be coming about the same time."
"Like a divine coincidence, eh?"
"Yeah," I said. "Isn't that something?"
"Life is very strange at times," he said, as he ejaculated into my vagina. The sensation of the hot come, shooting into my hole was delightful.
I came as he came. It was just like I thought it should always be. It was like magic.
After we had enjoyed our simultaneous discharges of pleasure, Brad pulled out of me.
"Thank you very much, my love," he said. "That was just a wonderful experience."
"You make it sound as if it was all over," I said.
"Well, isn't it?"
"No, not at all," I said.
"What else can we do?"
"Fuck me in the ass, darling," I said.
"No way."
"But why?"
"I wouldn't want to hurt you," he said.
"Don't worry about it," I said. "I want you to hurt me."
"I wouldn't even think of doing such a thing to you."
"Then do it to give me pleasure."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes. Tell me the truth, Brad, haven't you always wanted to give pleasure to someone in the rear?"
"Well, yes, but that was always just a sick wish. I mean, it was a perversion. I wouldn't want to be perverse with you."
"But I want it."
"Very well, I will be your willing sex slave," he said, with some irony, apparent, apparently, only to me.
I rolled over on my belly, and spread my legs widely. I was ready to take his organ up my ass.
As I felt the head of his phallus press up into my behind, I knew that pleasure was on the way.
It was as I always hoped it would be. It was wonderful.
It slid in as though it had been greased.
"Oh, Brad," I sighed, "Isn't this the living end?"
"It is indeed, my lovely," he sighed. "From here there can only be a new beginning."
"So, then," I sighed, "begin to fuck me in the ass, for that is what I truly want."
"Oh, you," Brad laughed. "You are a wicked little tart, aren't you?"
"Brad, how can you say that? You know the evil influences I have been under."
"So, why don't you simply forget about the past, and usher a new era into your life?"
"I want to," ' I said, "but it will take time. Please be patient."
"I'll try," he sighed. "I truly will try."
"I'm so very glad," I moaned as I rolled over on the bed and exposed my terrific, hot ass cheeks, "fill me with your manhood. I need to feel it. I need to be filled with you in the ass, Brad. That will indeed be the living end."
"I guess all good things must come to an end," he sighed, as he pressed the head of his organ slowly into my ass.
"Bless you, Brad. Bless you for finding me, and filling me."
"You are most welcome, my dear," he moaned, as he drove his organ deeply into my behind.
