"In sexual matters, the male should be aggressive and the female passive." This statement has been voiced for many, many years. A closed examination of this statement may be helpful to this discussion.
The word "aggressive" carries with it as many conflicting connotations as there are interpreters. The context in which the word is used, of course, is of prime importance, and whether or not an aggressive act is directed to socially acceptable ends is important in making a valid evaluation of any aggressive act.
For example, when one refers to an athletic team, a business corporation, or a political campaign as "aggressive," one is paying the people involved a compliment for their vigor, vitality, activity, forcefulness. Certainly the words "passive" or 'submissive" when applied to these same groups would strike many people as a derogatory term. Ironically, the "passive resistance" methods employed by Mahatma Gandhi were, in context, greatly admired by millions of people throughout the civilized world, and proved to be strikingly effective.
Indeed, there often exists a fine line between acceptable aggression and unacceptable aggression, the latter often branded as undesirable and often punishable. For example, compare words which are unfavorably associated with aggression-words such as hostile, quarrelsome, belligerent, attack, assault-with their favorable counterparts: bold, assertive, active, initiative. The problem of determining if, in and of itself, aggression is desirable or undesirable is a mind-bending exercise in futility.
In establishing any type of criterion for aggression, the following should be answered: (1) Is the aggression directed toward a socially desirable goal? (2) Does it infringe upon the freedom and rights of, or do bodily or mental harm to another? Admittedly, these criteria are generally stated and oversimplified for the sake of brevity. However, they are set forth to prepare the reader for the kind of thinking he will no doubt experience while reading the case histories contained in this volume.
Specifically, in the area of sex, the question of aggression or the use of force is very delicate, particularly from a legal point of view. For instance, the girl who says "no" to her amorous date's sexual advances, then yields after a firmer embrace or even a tighter grasp of her wrist cannot be compared to a girl who is dragged into the bushes, and raped by a total stranger. It might be agreed that the second girl was raped, while the first was really saying "maybe" instead of "no" to her aggressive boyfriend.
The release of aggression in sexual situations, then, is condoned or condemned depending upon the extent it is employed, the circumstances under which it occurs, the age and mental states of the parties involved and other factors. It is understandable, then, that males and females of all ages are often themselves confused when confronted with situations calling for a judgment as to whether too much or too little aggression is taking place.
For instance, young girls are advised that they must be cautious and not "too forward" (even to the point of seeming 'shy") with members of the opposite sex. Then, particularly after marriage, the same girl is told that it is permissible, even desirable, that she play an aggressive role in the sex act with her husband. Unfortunately, many women find this transition difficult. Certainly, if she-the normal, modern, adult female-continues to adhere to the advice from her childhood, she will be accused by her spouse of "not really wanting to do it." Her spouse may believe her to be frigid.
Conversely, the male who retains the mistaken notion that he must always play the role of the perfect gentleman with the opposite sex is open to similar criticism. If he displays timidity in making physical contact with females, stutters, stammers, fumbles-in short, does not display some of the "freshness" females have come to expect from a red-blooded, American male-he is open to accusations ranging from impotence to homosexuality.
The question of what constitutes desirable as opposed to undesirable aggressive behavior in relation to sex is a formidable problem. From childhood through adulthood, many are those who have wrestled with their conscience in an effort to determine when and how much sexually aggressive behavior is appropriate.
In Human Sexual Response, Masters and Johnson comment on the Freudian theory of sexual aggression:
Freud believed that sexuality must be viewed developmentally. He regarded it as a broad concept, related to the function of obtaining pleasure from zones of the-body-a function only later brought into the service of reproduction and under the primary dominance of the genitals. The mouth is the first erotogenic zone, receiving not only nourishment necessary for self-preservation, but also providing satisfaction and pleasure independent of that function. With frustration of wishes, aggression is mobilized in the form of sadistic impulses, which begin to appear during the oral phase with the appearance of teeth and increase greatly during the second psychosexual phase, and anal stage during which satisfaction occurs in aggression and in attainment of mastery over the excretory functions. This very aggression, which has a muscular component, too, aids the child in the process of separation-individuation. ... In sadism, Freud conceived of a fusion between libidinal and aggressive instinctual drives, thereafter a force that continues throughout the life of the individual. It is the source of an ambivalence of feelings toward all objects-simultaneous feelings of love and hostility-one part of which is usually only partially conscious.
It is significant, too, that regarding aggression in both the male and the female, Sigmund Freud stated that libido is of a masculine nature. In his essay, "Transformations of Puberty" from his Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality, Freud had this to say:
It is not until puberty that the sharp distinction is established between the masculine and feminine characters. From that time on, this contrast has a more decisive influence than any other upon the shaping of human life. It is true that the masculine and feminine dispositions are already easily recognizable in childhood. The development of the inhibitions of sexuality (shame, disgust, pity, etc.) take place in little girls earlier and in the face of less resistance than in boys; the tendency to sexual repression seems in general to be greater; and, where the component instincts of sexuality appear, they prefer the passive form. The autoerotic activity of the erotogenic zones is, however, the same in both sexes, and owing to this uniformity there is no possibility of a distinction between the two sexes such as arises after puberty. So far as the autoerotic and masturbatory manifestations of sexuality are concerned, we might lay it down that the sexuality of little girls is of a wholly masculine nature. Indeed, if we were able to give a more definite connotation to the concepts of "masculine" and "feminine" it would even be possible to maintain that libido is invariably and necessarily of a masculine nature, whether it occurs in men or in women and irrespective of whether its object is a man or a woman.
If one is to accept Freud's observations, one must certainly revise the popular misconception that little girls are made up of 'sugar and spice" while boys are composed of 'snails and puppy dog tails," at least as far as autoeroticism is concerned. Also, there are far-reaching implications to be drawn from Freud's paralleling the masculine character of libido in boys and girls at the time of puberty. For example, we may deduce that the young girl at time of puberty is just as aggressive and curious regarding the opposite sex as is the young boy at the same age (an idea still universally accepted by parents). Who, therefore, is more to blame when a boy and girl at the time of puberty are caught in the act of sex play? Further, can it not be asserted that in cases of child molestation involving an adult male and a young girl at the age of puberty that the girl's libidinous curiosity (masculine aggressive behavior) contributed at least to some degree in the act? This is not to imply that the male in such a situation should not have exercised adult control and restraint, but it does imply that another side of the coin might be profitably examined in such a situation.
While only a madman would prescribe hyper aggression or aggressive sexual acts which might do harm to another (rape, for example), it is interesting to note the pathetic and futile acts, or as Dr. Krafft-Ebing terms them, 'silly" acts, to which the excessively passive (often to the point of impotency) male will indulge himself in lieu of normal aggressive sexual behavior. In his classic book on sexual aberration, Psychopathia Sexualis, Dr. Krafft-Ebing makes the following comment:
A very distinctive act which belongs here is exhibitionism (exposure). The cases thus far recorded are exclusively those of men who ostentatiously expose their genitals to persons of the opposite sex, whom in some instances they even pursue, without, however, becoming aggressive.
The silly manner of this sexual activity, or really sexual demonstration, points to intellectual and moral weakness or, at least, to temporary inhibition of the intellectual and moral functions, with excitation of libido dependent upon a decided disturbance of consciousness (abnormal unconsciousness, mental confusion) and at the same time calls the virility of these individuals into question. Thus there are various categories of exhibitionists.
The first category includes acquired states of mental weakness from which no resistance can be made to a sexual desire that has always been intense or has been intensified by disease. At the same time, impotence frequently exists, and no longer permits the expression of the sexual instinct in violent acts (rape), but only in acts that are silly.
While Krafft-Ebing's use of language ('silly," for instance) is not as scientific as used by some modern writers in the field, and his penchant for attributing sexual deviations to physical disease and various "weaknesses" is at times amusing, this dedicated pioneer saw clearly to what bizarre lengths males would go in pursuit of sexual gratification once their normal inclinations toward aggressive sexual behavior have been stifled.
Still another problem which is dealt with in at least two of the case histories within this volume is that of significant age difference between sexual partners. In one instance, this involves an adult-child sexual encounter while in another, a young man with an older woman. These are two entirely different problems-legally, morally and physically. However, they point to a final and very fundamental sexual absurdity in contemporary sexual thought. R. E. L. Masters in Forbidden Sexual Behavior and Morality strikes out at the heart of our system of marriage, and, indirectly, advocates a solution to the aggressive/passive question which is at the core of countless sexual maladjustments today. Says Masters:
Science has lately determined that by the time women have reached their pinnacle of desire and capacity for sexual intercourse men have already passed their sexual peak and gone into decline. We can only infer from this that it was the intention of Mother Nature that young boys should be mated with older women and young girls-though only transiently-with older men. We assume here, from our finite perspective, that the Almighty would approve sexual pairing on the basis of similarity of sexual capacities and cravings. On the other hand, of course, there are factors of intellectual and emotional maturity to consider. And since God or Nature has made it impossible to achieve a union of males and females of similar desires, capacities, and maturity, perhaps it would be best, if we are really to do what is natural, to detach sexuality from marriage. Where marriage is concerned then, the factors of similar intellectual and emotional development would be given first consideration; and, where sex is concerned, physical compatibility would be the determinant.
This solution would, of course, eliminate the problem of antisocial aggression, since the disparity in the desires and drives in sex partners would thereby be eliminated. There is a hint of irony, however, in Masters' remedy.
One thing may be certain at this point. Aggression in human life is essential, for nothing can happen without a degree of aggressive behavior by somebody.
CHAPTER ONE
A Quest for Rape
"I don't know where to begin, really. I seriously doubt if many girls feel the way I do about what constitutes real masculinity and total pleasure in the sex act with a woman. I understand that what I tell you might be printed, so I suppose if I tell you my true feelings that night I was raped some other girl out there might identify with my story and-and well, save herself a lot of anguish. At least she'll know she's not the only girl in the world who craves being overpowered by a powerful male.
"I hadn't the vaguest notion that I was sexually different from most girls my age, and I might have gone through life not knowing about my desire to be raped if that beautiful nut-wherever he is now-hadn't dragged me from Doug's car and violated me in the bushes.
"I guess I should tell you a little about myself. I'm twenty-three now, but I was only seventeen that night it happened-when I was raped. My boyfriend, Douglas, and I were parked up on Mulholland Drive, kissing and hugging and looking down on the beautiful lights of the San Fernando Valley below. You've probably heard of Mulholland Drive. It's become a world famous sort of lovers' lane. There are lots of beautiful houses up there, but it's still fairly secluded with big beautiful trees and plenty of private places to park and make love. I was certainly not a virgin, but I wasn't extremely promiscuous either. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen to my first steady boyfriend, Greg, while Doug was only the fourth boy to actually fuck me all the way. So Doug and I were inside his car kissing and playing with each other the way we always did before doing the real thing.
"Doug had my bra off, and was squeezing my breasts and breathing hard and lapping at my nipples. I had his prick out, too, and I was holding it with both hands--jacking its loose foreskin over his hot hard on with one hand while rotating my other hand alternately over his testicles and the head of his dribbling thing. I always took care to rub the end of his prick, because if I didn't he dripped so much love juice it sometimes got on my clothes and was difficult to remove.
"Doug began running his hand slowly up my leg-the way he always did before we fucked-and I spread my legs farther apart so he could palm my pussy and get his finger underneath my panties and play with my clit. He always did that for a while before he slipped my panties all the way off and put his hard on inside me. I told him I would, but that I hoped I knew how to do it right. He told me not to worry about it, that he would give me instructions as I sucked. He scooted over then, so I could put my head in his lap. I took his hot organ slowly into my mouth, liking the taste and the velvet texture of a man's cock. He told me to play with his balls as I moved my mouth up and down, so I did. He began groaning and telling me how wonderful my tongue felt on his prick, and I remember really enjoying swallowing the lubricant that kept drooling out of the big, bulbous head of his meat. I even secretly hoped he would hold my head hard when he was ready to come and make me swallow his sperm.
"The trouble with Doug, though, was that he was super considerate, so I guessed he wouldn't expect a lady-like girl like me to think of such a thing. My pussy was gushier than it had ever been, and I was getting anxious for him to lick between my legs for a while before he put his prick inside me. He almost always did that. It's funny, but I came maybe only half of the time when Douglas fucked me, but I always came on the few occasions when he really tried to make me reach an orgasm with his tongue. Looking back, I guess that was because while Doug was sort of gentle when fucking me he became a real animal when he sucked my cunt. I never understood that. You'd think a man would get really animalistic when sticking you with his prick and be tender when sucking you, but Doug was just the opposite. When he sucked me, he would grunt and hold my legs apart with his strong hands-even dig his nails into my bottom as he tugged to get more and more of my pussy lips and clit against his gobbling tongue. When he ate my pussy, he went absolutely berserk, and I loved it!
"Well, I had sucked his prick for some time, really loving it, when he suddenly pulled his organ from my eager lips and began gobbling my cunt. I guess he was afraid of coming in my mouth or something. That would be typically Doug, all right. Anyway, my disappointment that he hadn't let me swallow his sperm passed in a few seconds as his tongue began lapping my cunt all up and down, snorting like a hungry hog. His hands dug into my bottom and my legs were as wide apart as possible as he licked, finally concentrating on my love button. I threw my head back, enjoying the thing I liked better than anything I'd experienced with a boy so far, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. It's weird, but I would have the wildest fantasies at these moments. I would imagine that there was a powerful animal, stallions especially, pinning me to the ground and gobbling my cunt against my will. Lots of times, too, I pretended it was a very muscled and powerful man dressed like an acrobat or some kind of huge, muscled, broad-shouldered degenerate munching away at my pussy.
"On this particular night, I remember imagining that the man who was devouring my cunt was some kind of combination Hercules and vampire. Instead of living on blood, this vampire existed on drippings from pussies. Yes, I imagined that he would starve if he didn't drink every drop of love juice from my pussy. He had to have cunt juice in order to live. It was the most beautiful fantasy ever, and I remember hearing my voice, as if it were somebody else's voice far away, crying: 'It's your dinner. Drink your dinner from my cunt. Fill your stomach up with the pussy juice you have to have. You have to drink it, don't you? You have to swallow it all and make me come or you'll starve, won't you? You can't stop until you're full and you've made me have that tingling come that's better than anything, can you?'
"By this time, Doug knew this would be one of those nights he would have to make me come with his mouth before he could fuck me. God, I was screaming like a wild woman, tearing at his hair while visions of that cunt vampire gorging himself on my pussy swirled through my head. I was tearing at the hair of his head and screaming commands, dictating the speed of his tongue and shoving my pelvis insanely to get him to press where and how hard I wanted.
"I guess it was at about this point that the stranger who had been watching and listening to me from outside could restrain himself no longer. Everything happened so fast it's hard to remember exactly. At first it was like some grotesque nightmare-a nightmare that turned into the most unforgettable night of my life. I'll try to be as accurate in describing my honest feelings and exactly what happened as I can. You must remember that I was off in another world when the rapist struck. Whether he had intended to rape a girl in lovers' lane-came there to stalk one-or whether the sights and sounds he overheard stimulated him beyond control, I'll never know. Nobody will, because the police never found out who he was.
"Anyway, I was only vaguely aware that the door opposite the driver's side-right next to us suddenly jerked open. My first recollection was staring at a shadowy figure behind the very bright flashlight. We were totally surprised, because we usually locked the car doors before making love, but that night Doug had simply gotten too eager and forgotten. At the same time I opened my eyes and stared at the bright light, squinting, Doug stopped licking my pussy and started to raise his head. Whatever the stranger hit Doug with wasn't the flashlight, because the light stayed pointed directly in my eyes. There was a terrific thump-a thud, really-and Doug slid to the floor in front of me. He didn't utter a sound. Nothing. Not even the slightest groan. And then the stranger was grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me out of the car into the darkness. I was terrified, and my pussy seemed to tighten up like a vise. Was Doug dead? Would he kill me? I was really scared!
"Immediately, dragging me roughly through the bushes, whoever it was began assuring me he would not hurt me if I cooperated. His breath came fast and his voice was gruff. 'I'm no killer and I won't hurt you,' he assured me. 'But if you make one peep, I'll have to knock you out. I'm just gonna do what your boyfriend was doing to you, sugar. We're going to have a little sex session, so if you're real nice and relax, nothing bad's gonna happen. When we're through, I'll let you go. Do you hear? I'll let you go, and you and that cunt sucker can go your own way. He's okay, so don't worry. I didn't hit him that hard. I just want that young, tight, little snatch of yours, and then you can go free."
"He must have dragged me thirty or forty yards, all the time reassuring me as he held his hand clamped over my mouth. Finally, my heart slamming against my ribs, he hurled me to the ground by a big eucalyptus tree and flicked off the flashlight. His silhouette against the full moon was tall, broad-shouldered-I could tell he was fairly young with clean-cut features. 'Please let me go,' I managed to stammer. 'I'm only seventeen. I won't tell anybody. I promise. Just let me and my boyfriend go. Please, mister!'
"'You ain't no virgin, are you?' he asked, ignoring my pleas. He dropped his pants as he asked this, and I could see his huge erection standing out, pointing at me like a weapon. I couldn't answer his question. I just lay there trembling and wondering if he planned to kill me.
"As though he'd read my mind, he became suddenly gentle and reassuring. He lay down beside me, placed his hand on my open blouse, then slipped it inside and began massaging my breast. I broke into tears and began sobbing uncontrollably. 'Shhhh, little beauty,' he whispered. 'I told you I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm not going to do anything your boyfriend wouldn't do. I promise. I'm just going to munch on that little pussy of yours, then nice and easy stick my prick in your honey pot. Let's make everything easy on both of us, and just have a nice suck and fuck, all right?'
"I remember my mother once telling me that if I ever found myself in this kind of situation-I mean, really trapped-to cooperate as much as possible. 'It might save your life, honey,' she had said. Remembering this, I forced myself to relax, telling myself that it was my only chance. There was what looked like a long, dark stocking filled with something beside us. I guessed that it was a blackjack or something that he'd hit Doug with. He didn't seem to have a knife or any other weapon on him. Maybe he didn't plan to kill me after all. All I had to do was let this stranger have my body.
"He was on his hands and knees beside me. In the moonlight I could see that he was good-looking, even handsome. I couldn't help thinking why an attractive man would run such a risk-why he couldn't just go out and get sex the way other men get it. I'm no murderer, sadist, or freak,' he assured me. 'First, I'm going to suck between your delicious legs for a while, and then I'm going to fuck you. That's all. So be good to yourself, baby. Don't fight me. You might even like it. Then I'll let you go. I promise."
"For some reason I believed him, and at that instant I even felt sorry for him. Why I should feel sorry for a man who had maybe killed Doug and was raping me I'll never know, but I felt genuine pity for any man so desperate he had to force a girl to submit to sex. I thought of screaming, but decided this would be the end of it. I've been fucked before, I thought. If I just relax, it doesn't have to be anything so different from my other sexual experiences.
"And then a totally contradictory feeling welled up within me, and I knew I could not just submit to this animal who had beaten Doug. Something told me this man wouldn't kill me no matter what I did-I decided to resist him. 'I'm going to get up now and walk back to the car,' I said. 'Don't be foolish and do something they'll put you in jail for. I'm leaving and don't try to stop me."
"I started to get up, but he hurled me back onto the ground-hard. 'You're not going anywhere till I'm through with you,' he said, the full weight of his body on top of me now. 'I'll-I'll scream,' I threatened. And then, as I spoke I realized that if he were really a man-not a boy as I'd become accustomed to-he would overpower me and fuck me, he would pin me down and force me to submit to his hard, plunging cock. I knew then that I had felt a trace of guilt with the boys I'd fucked. That's why I hadn't always come with them when just fucking. But with this man, this rapist, I was totally blameless. I guess I was semi hysterical at that moment, for the strangest revelation came to me. I suddenly realized that if this man truly overpowered me I would be blameless. I could enjoy the kind of fuck I really craved. A fuck from a man-not some mere boy!
"Still, I knew I wanted to resist him, so I planned my tactics out carefully in my mind. My brain was working just the way it did when I fantasized about animals and strong men while I let boys suck my pussy. I wondered if he could survive what I planned. I wondered if my screams, my gouging fingernails and sharp teeth would drive him away. Please let him be strong, I thought, wondering what I was about to undertake, but somehow not caring.
"'Beautiful,' my rape-lover said, running his hands over my shoulder and massaging my back. 'I came up here just bumming around, not sure what I really wanted. But when I heard you and your boyfriend there in the car, I knew I had to have you.' He was tonguing my ear now and fumbling with my titties.
"I pushed him away. 'Take your hands off me ... let me go or I'll scream,' I said, thinking if he stops now I'll scream. Please make him strong.
"He grabbed both of my wrists and clenched them together behind my back, holding them in a vise-like grip. He pressed his mouth roughly against mine, forcing his tongue between my lips while his free hands palmed my breasts with frantic urgency. His breath was a lustful rasp in my ear as I jerked my head from side to side. Finally, I freed my mouth and managed to scream. His hot hand clamped over my mouth, while his other hand continued roaming and squeezing my nipples.
"'Listen, honey twat,' he groaned as though in anguish. 'You don't know how much I need this fuck ... you don't know. Give me those luscious tits. Oh, yeah. I want to squeeze them good and lap on those nice, big nipples all night. And then I'm going to eat your cunt much better than that amateur in the car was doing it. Nothing's gonna stop me, so don't fight. I'm gonna fuck that hot, little twat till you beg for mercy. And there isn't a goddamned thing you can do about it, hear? I'm gonna fuck and lick everything you got so you might as well relax. I never wanted to fuck so bad in my life. I had no idea you were such a beauty when I was listening from outside the car. This is a real find. Yeah. Glad you've given up trying to fight me, baby."
"He was far stronger than I'd imagined. He held both my wrists with just one of his hands, so I couldn't break free, despite my squirming and twisting. Thank God. I was really beginning to enjoy myself-especially the strong way he was talking to me. For kicks, I screamed again, right in his ear. I caught him off guard, for at the same time I was able to wrench my hands free. Then, with my fingernails, I dug into his forehead and cheek. He laughed a low, strange laugh, and deftly blocked the attack with his forearms. Then he had hold of my elbows and wrists again.
"'Won't do any good to scream, sugar,' he said softly. 'There's nobody around to hear. Nobody. So why don't you just relax, spread those lovely legs nice and wide and let me fuck you? Let the nice man slide his prick right inside that wet cunt, huh? Your boyfriend made it nice and mushy so it should slip in just as naturally as can be. Hell, you haven't even come yet, have you? Relax and let it happen."
"He was really sucking hard on my tits now, drawing each nipple deep into his mouth and nursing like a madman. His left hand still held my wrists, his right hand my chin to keep me from biting him. I felt deliciously and completely helpless. He was about to make me do it, and I was helpless, and nothing was my fault. He was about to overpower me and rape me and none of it would be my fault. Hurry! Hurry! I thought. Force me and fuck me! Don't let him be a weak, considerate boy. Let him be a man-an experienced man who will drive his prick hard inside me till I come as I've never come with a cock before!
"His hand was prying at my knees, forcing them apart and working its way up my legs now as he continued chewing noisily at my erect and swollen nipples. Doug had prepared me for orgasm, so I was primed all right-really ready for fucking. I listened to his noisy feast at my tits. I pretended to try to keep my knees together, but still his hand made progress toward my sopping vagina. I could actually feel the lubricant streaming from my cunt, drenching the leaves beneath me as it ran in rivulets down the cheeks of my ass.
"As his chances of overpowering me, raping me, became a real possibility, my excitement and desire mounted to frightening proportions. Rape, I thought. Wonderful, blameless rape! Yes, yes, he was too strong for me, and I was growing weaker. I couldn't resist him much longer, and it was beautiful. Despite my resistance, he was conquering me. Pretty soon the deception would be complete-both mine and his-and I could relax and accept defeat and feel the delicious workings of his mouth and hands all over my trembling body. I would feel his jutting, hard male organ crashing into my cunt, fucking my hole against my will. His hand had reached my pussy now. It began clutching, rubbing. I can remember it perfectly-the cool leaves under my bare ass and my legs held wide apart as he tenderly stroked my greasy/slick cunt lips, my quivering labia and finally my clit that Doug had already brought to near orgasm with his tongue. Oh, God, my snatch was a craving, starving flower, and I wanted him to pollinate my nerve center with his big, hard prick.
"I made one final effort to free myself, just to test him and assure myself of his strength and intention to rape me. Then, eager and knowing I had failed, I lay limp and offered myself to the victor. Yes, this beautiful male animal had overpowered me. I was just a poor, weak, submissive female. Now he could probe at his leisure with his hot prick into the depths of me and squirt hot come from his balls through his big shaft into the conquered cunt-far inside, way, way deep up and inside.
"Oh, did he fuck! I had never known anything like it. The beautiful moment I'd been waiting for, praying for, had at last arrived, and I encircled his head lovingly in my welcome arms and licked his face, cheeks, eyes. For the first time I was transported to a world where guilt did not exist. I yielded willingly, conquered and in the best trance and fantasy ever. You win. I thought. Yes, rape me! Rape me!
But he didn't rape me. Instead, his head moved slowly down from my saliva-wet breasts, his tongue lapping as he moved over my tummy and pubic hair, until it finally nestled on my cunt. My declaration of defeat had obviously spurred him on. Now he knew he could proceed at his leisure, could kiss and lick at my love hole and do whatever he desired until he was ready to plug me with his organ. It was a wonderful, passive feeling just knowing that I was his to do with as he pleased. I was putty-helpless, passive, pliable.
"I ground my pelvis at his gulping mouth, reveling in the feel of his beard stubble against my inner thighs and the desperate clenching of his rough hands on my buttocks as he gorged himself at the altar of my pussy. I gave him all the thrust and rotation I could muster with my hips while his open-and-closing mouth drank hungrily from my flesh fountain and probed my anal cavity. That was a new one. I'd never had a tongue up my asshole before, and this sent my animal fantasizing to an all-time high. As he ingested my crotch, wave after incredible pleasure wave wracked my body. I reached down, and for the first time felt tenderness for a brief moment. Softly, I ran my nails through his wiry hair encouragingly. His tongue was sheer heaven, and my head was tossing from side to side in complete abandon. I wanted his cock even more than his tongue. Even though what he was doing was paradise. I had to make him stop before I came. It would not be real rape unless his prick shot sperm inside my vagina, and I wanted the real thing. I lifted his head from my twitching pussy until I could feel his erect and wet penis against my leg. 'Fuck me,' I begged. 'Rape me! You're stronger than me. You win. I'm weak. I'm yours. Oh, fuck me hard!'
"I reached down, gripped the thick, pulsing hunk of male gristle, thinking of it as a conquering giant, engorged, stiff and eager to force its way between a girl's legs against her will and deliver unspeakable pleasure as it sent currents and ripples of delight throughout a girl's body until she became blear-eyed ,. . passive and whimpering and delirious from the pushing, pumping pleasure monster.
"The hot head parted my cunt lips, nudging its way into the channel it was made for. I thought I would faint from pleasure. I grabbed at its base, at the trunk of it, and groped the immense flesh balls and thought of the sperm that waited to spurt inside me. 'What a cunt!' my wonderful rapist gasped. 'Let's fuck, fuck, fuck!' He kept on making obscene talk in my ear as our pelvises clashed and his spear stuck to the depths of me. The words he used had always repulsed me before, but now they excited me beyond description. I adored lying flat on my back with his hands clutching my ass while he spoke those obscene words to me. And then the best orgasm imaginable began rippling through my womb, running up my spine, my cunt, rectum, everywhere. And I was one big tingle riding his rigid cock to heaven. 'Commmmming ... nowwwwwwww!' I screamed, just as he panted, 'Meeeeeee, toooooo.' Then we both collapsed, satiated, spasming beyond control until, minutes later, the big cock ceased jerking inside me and began returning to normal."
No amount of justification or empathetic analysis can lessen the severity of the crime of rape or should in any way ameliorate the fact that the use of force in sex is among the most flagrant abuses of aggression imaginable.
Wendy found through the act of rape upon her that she had secretly harbored a desire to be overpowered sexually and, in fact, had the most intense orgasm of her life. But it is essential to bear in mind that for every Wendy there are probably hundreds of young girls who would emerge from such an attack with severe psychological and or physiological injuries. The rapist's assault upon Wendy's young boyfriend, Douglas, fortunately resulted in only a minor injury. Under slightly different circumstances the boy might easily have been killed. Also, it should be remembered that Wendy had been warned by her mother "to cooperate" with a man in such a situation if the alternative seemed to be even more horrible than rape, murder and mutilation. Suppose she had resisted not halfheartedly, but genuinely resisted. Can it safely be said that she would have endured the incident with her life? The answer, of course, is no, for any examination of similar attacks on women reveals that many are murdered or severely injured as their assailants attempt to render them unconscious.
Possibly the most tragic aspect of this case is that both parties have seemingly emerged from this potentially catastrophic incident with unrealistic views of what usually happens in such an encounter. Thus the rapist, in happening upon a girl who seemed to delight in being overpowered, may be roaming the streets actually believing that he is doing his victims a favor, even liberating them. Assuming that the man has not raped before, would he not reason that attacks upon women in the future would be just as pleasurable for both parties and that the resistance would only be token?
The prognosis for Wendy seems also fraught with danger. As we shall see in the balance of her narration, the incident not only has left her with an unreal idea of what usually constitutes rape, but it has left permanent scars which will color the rest of her sexual life if she does not seek psychiatric help. Believing as she now does-for she had little reason to believe otherwise-she is literally a rape-prone victim, and, therefore, prey to rapists of a far more sadistic nature than the relatively gentle intruder she encountered. Unfortunately, the "considerate rapist" and "the whore with the heart of gold" bear about as much resemblance to reality as the legend of Robin Hood who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. We can only hope that Wendy can be made to see, before it is too late, that she is courting disaster by seeking partners who will overpower her, satisfy her sexually and permit her to proceed merrily on her way.
There are those, of course, who would justify almost any means of obtaining 'self-knowledge" short of permanent physical injury or death. Concerning Wendy, such an argument might, therefore, be made that, since she discovered this need to be overpowered in order to fully achieve sexual gratification, the rape incident was beneficial to her. Carrying this ludicrous argument still further, suppose this girl had never been raped. Would she not be forced to live out her life, though unaware of the fact, experiencing nothing more than a fraction of the sexual potential of which she was capable? This argument is just as absurd as postulating the notion that an individual deprived of, say, strawberry ice cream, is crippled in some way because of his restriction to other flavors.
Several factors combine to render the rape of Wendy somewhat "fortuitous." First, her own psychological makeup led her not to resist her attacker in any serious way. Secondly, her attacker was not of the sadistic variety. Finally, she was somewhat precocious sexually, not a virgin, and her mother had advised her not to resist such an attack if escape seemed impossible. Had any of these factors been lacking in the personalities of either party, another tragic newspaper headline might have been the result.
As will soon be seen, Wendy does not disclose the incident of being raped to her parents. In his book Forbidden Sexual Behavior and Morality, R. E. L. Masters says:
Evidence indicates that the damage to raped or molested victims, when there is damage, is much more often and to a greater degree the product of highly emotional parental and other reactions to the behavior after its disclosure than it is a product of the actual sexual experience. Thus, when it is revealed that a minor has been involved in a sexual episode great care should be taken that no damaging response is made by parents, law enforcement officials, or anyone else with whom the girl comes into contact. The consensus now seems to be that it is especially undesirable for children to have to appear in court in such cases. No doubt. At the same time one wonders about the extent to which the minor's absence from the court proceedings must work to the detriment of justice, whether the handicap be on prosecution, defendant, or both.
Commenting on the ethical and legal restraints of rape, Masters states in his book that they are essential with regard to the expression of some sexual desires ... , and [this] has probably been amply demonstrated to the satisfaction of everyone, though whether these restraints should take the form, in most cases, of specifically sexual prohibitions, is, as I have pointed out elsewhere, thoroughly debatable. However that may be, one point is clear: contemporary anti-sexual legislation is so outmoded both in terms of contemporary sexual behavior and current scientific knowledge as to reduce that legislation to absurdity, with many individual tragedies resulting. ... Unfortunately, juries seldom possess all relevant facts, and even when they do there is usually a distorted version or versions which makes it impossible to decide accurately what is truth, what is falsehood, and what is unintentional misrepresentation.
Present anti-sexual legislation seems to be somewhat inadequate in certain aspects. Accusations of rape occur in many instances where the victim has enticed the so-called attacker where little if any force has been employed. Wendy's attacker, despite her ambivalence, displayed a form of aggressive behavior which would seem to qualify as "rape" under the law.
"We lay there on the damp ground for maybe five minutes after we'd both come, and then, just as he'd promised, my mysterious rapist got up and told me I could go. Honest to God. I stood there for a moment thinking I should kiss him goodnight or something. It had been the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to me, and I guess I wanted to express my gratitude. Finally, I realized how crazy it was to think that way, so I began backing away from him to return to Doug and the car. 'Your boyfriend should be okay,' he said. 'Take my advice and don't report this, because I'll be a long way from here by the time the cops could get here. Besides, as I said, your little fuck partner there isn't really hurt."
"I turned and ran back to the car. Doug was groaning and sitting up. 'Shit, what hit me?' he mumbled. 'Hey, how are you? You look awful.' I realized that my clothes were pretty messed up. 'I'm all right, Doug. That was some maniac who tried to rape me,' I lied. Somehow I didn't like the idea of my name in the papers and having to explain getting raped to my friends and parents. 'He started to manhandle me, but I talked him into letting me go. Your forehead is bleeding. We better go to a hospital and see if you're all right."
"Doug agreed, and as we drove to the hospital, I talked him into saying he'd just banged his head on the dashboard. We both promised not to mention the incident to anybody.
"Well, that was the end of it-that single rape incident, anyway. But it sure wasn't the end of my hang-up. You see, even to this day I can't seem to enjoy sex-getting fucked to the point of orgasm-unless I'm able to believe that a man is overpowering me, raping me. It's caused all kinds of problems and misunderstandings with my dates, because some of them just don't know what it is I'm searching for ... it's a hard thing to explain to them. Sometimes I have to resort to becoming a regular prick-teaser in order to force men to use force on me, and then sometimes I get pretty badly handled by guys I don't know very well when I say no after leading them on. Honestly, I don't know where this is all going to end up. How long can I insist on being raped before some weirdo really hurts me bad or even kills me? Lately I've been ending up with some pretty tough-looking characters, believe me.
"If only I could just find some understanding guy and cop out to him maybe we could establish some kind of routine. He'd rough me up a little, and then we could both pretend it was rape and everything would be fine. But I guess I'm looking for an impossible situation.
"But to get back to where I was. I broke up with Doug right after that rape incident. I knew I'd never be satisfied with anything less than that beautiful orgasm I'd had with my rapist stranger. I started dating the toughest, most inconsiderate-looking guys I could find. And I found out that appearances are deceiving. Most of the time, just as we got to the point of having sex, I'd say no, and these guys would apologize for not being gentlemen and take me home. A couple of times I'd even masturbate or suck their pricks right up to the point where they were ready to come ... and then stop. I figured if that wouldn't incite a man to rape, nothing would! But most of these guys just went ahead, jacked themselves off and took me home. I never heard from them again.
"And then, finally, nearly a year after that beautiful night on Mulholland Drive, I found a man who could satisfy me at last. It was about time! I was getting so desperate and horny for a rape-type fuck I was ready to advertise in the personals section of the underground newspaper for the man who had raped me to meet me secretly. I was in college now and I swear my desire for the kind of sexual conquest I craved was interfering with my studies. I dreamed of powerful men raping me, of being dragged away by cavemen, everything!
"Ben was a senior studying sociology. He was sort of quiet and soft-spoken, but there was a hint of violence about him that intrigued me. Whenever we talked, for instance, he made no effort to hide his sexual interest in me. He stared at my tits when we talked in the hall, and even admired openly the way my hips moved when I walked. In short, he struck me as a guy aggressive enough to take what he wanted from a girl. As it turned out, I was partly wrong. It required a lot of prompting and assistance on my part, but at least I got the kind of man who would use his cock and his superior strength in a way to make me have the orgasm I was starving for.
"The evening began normally. We went to a movie-afterwards, for sandwiches and coffee. All through the evening I tried to prepare him and clue him in as to what I wanted. For instance, when he kept opening doors for me and helping me with my coat and chair, I'd say things like. 'I'm not the Queen of England, you know,' or 'I prefer dominant men who don't think all females are fragile and special.' And later, after he'd gotten up enough nerve and tested my reaction carefully in the motel parking lot, I said, 'I like a man who sees what he wants and takes it. Please is for sissies. Real men know that a woman likes a show of strength. After all, that's what makes males and females different, isn't it?'
"Ben was getting the idea and was beginning to come on more aggressively all the time. So just before he left the car to rent our room, I said, 'Just remember that regardless of what any girl says or does, she really wants the same thing you're after. Sex. Ben, promise me you won't let anything I say or do turn you off, okay? '
"He looked at me kind of quizzically, a half smile playing about the corners of his masculine mouth. His amber eyes-I think it was his eyes that attracted me from the beginning-reminded me of an animal's-kind of insensitive, cruel.
"Minutes later we were inside the motel room. He flicked on the light and sat down on the king-size bed. Then, dammit, he gave me a sort of devilish little-boy smile and suggested I come over and sit with him. 'Make me!' I said, remaining by the door. 'Or aren't you man enough to make me?' "Ben stared at me, confused. This was the crucial moment for us, because at this point lots of men just write you off as the worst of prick-teasers.
Or they figure going to all the trouble of forcing you at this point is too much trouble. 'You weren't kidding about all that stuff you said earlier, were you?' Ben asked. I stared him directly in his eyes, praying he would have some semblance of a rape instinct. 'Not one bit, Ben. I meant every word."
"He shook his head, deliberating. 'You're a, strange one,' he said, crossing the room and pulling me to him. 'With a girl like you a guy doesn't know how to act. How do I know when you're playing and when you're serious?' He began massaging my shoulder, and then unbuttoning my blouse slyly.
"I slapped him hard across the face. 'I guess you'll just have to find out, won't you? Maybe it will be worth it if you bother to find out, Ben.' He slapped me back hard, and I felt a delicious tingle run all the way from my vagina to my toes. He flung me onto the bed and pressed his lips savagely to mine. I tore my face from his. 'You crude bastard,' I said.
"He was really breathing hard now and his eyes were furious. 'Look, I don't know what kind of chick you are,' he yelled, 'but nobody would blame me for anything at this point. If you came here willingly with me-actually came into the motel with me-nobody would accuse me of rape at this point. So you better make up your mind. How is it going to be-nice or rough?'
"It seems I had to keep tossing him clues. 'Haven't you ever heard of nice and rough at the same time?' I asked, shoving him away from me. I could see that his hard on was ready to burst through his slacks, and I guessed this was the right time to push him to the limit. 'If you want something, why don't you go ahead and take it-no matter what. Aren't you man enough?'
"He suddenly hurled me onto my back and pinned my shoulders to the bed. 'Goddamn you, Wendy!' he yelled. 'I don't know what kind of games you're playing, but I'm going to fuck you whether you like it or not. I've been watching you waving your ass and tits up and down the hall at school long enough. You're no virgin-don't bullshit me-so you better get ready for another stiff cock in that cunt of yours! '
"I decided to lead him on. He was too close to being just what I was after, and I didn't want to risk losing him now. 'Now you're beginning to sound like the kind of man I need,' I said. 'Take what you want, but be ready for the obstacles, Ben."
"Suddenly he ripped the remaining buttons from my blouse, tore at the clasp on my bra and buried his hungry mouth on my tits. I bit him hard on the ear, but he just slammed my head back with the butt of his hand and went on gorging himself on my breasts. God it felt good being taken forcefully again. I heard a couple pass outside the room, and I visualized couples in all the rooms, the males raping the women, forcing them to submit to perverse whims of unspeakable depravity, tying the women up, driving their stiff pricks into the helpless, blameless pussies beneath them. It was beautiful.
"Ben had both of my arms beneath his propped-up forearms now, rendering me powerless to strike out at him, and, at the same time, he was able to hold my hair in his grasp and stare into my immobile face. 'I don't really have to resort to rape, do I?' he asked, panting and prying with his knee between my legs. 'I mean, I don't have to hit you over the head or something before I can fuck your pussy, do I?'
"I gave him a smile of encouragement. 'Not necessarily,' I said. 'You seem to understand what I need now, so you don't have to get real rough. But it's better if you force me a little. I want you to hold me hard so I can't get away-no matter how hard I may try-and keep holding my hair the way you're doing it. I need you to hold my ass hard, too, and fuck me like it was the most important thing you ever did. And say things-dirty things that come into your mind-and really tug me to you and use me. Oh, yes, use me, Ben, use me!'
"I was really into the mood now, and tired of explaining the rules further. As far as I was concerned Ben was on his own now, and I was ready for my beautiful, blameless rape-fuck.
"'Okay, Wendy,' Ben said. 'But if I get too rough, let me know."
"I raked his buttocks with my nails and yanked at his hair. 'Shut up!' I said. 'Get off me, you madman. Let me up. You can't violate me this way."
"Ben pinned my arms down again and began roughly stroking my shoulders and breasts, grasping the blonde tresses at my forehead and holding me captive. He proved to be even more violent then, not wanting any more of my blows and eager to get his meat into my cunt. He had already had enough experience to know that I wasn't fooling about my needs, and he was anxious to stick his cock where it wanted to be without any further delay. I was a strange one, he figured, but he had reached the end of his patience. He had become very nearly like a real rapist, and I allowed my fantasies to develop freely. His prick longed for cunt heat, but he would have to have the stamina if he ever wanted to bury his meat between my legs.
"I did permit him a few gentle activities. Even a rapist likes to fondle, stroke and savor a female's curves and indentations. I let him massage my neck and run his hand down my firm, smooth body, feeling my hips and buttocks. I even grasped his exposed hard on. 'Feels like a rock,' I said. 'Are you going to try to stick that thing in me?' He was dripping like a leaky faucet.
"'You guessed it, Wendy. All the way in, and then I'm going to fuck your cunt until you beg me to stop. Fuck you as long as I please.' He had grown more sure of himself and our respective roles. He lapped at my taut nipples hungrily, and forced his hand up to my waiting nest, palming my drenched crotch. I cried, 'No, dammit, no. But automatically I arched my back and spread my legs wider. With a mighty burst of strength then he ripped my panties off, tore them from me like a sex-crazed lunatic. Then he dipped his hand fairly gently into my waiting slit, rubbed up and down the length of it from my clit almost to my asshole as he said, 'My cock's going to be right in that hole, Wendy. I don't care what you say or do. I'm going to fuck your cunt on my terms!'
"God, Ben really seemed in the spirit of things now. I felt such joy at this powerful male taking me against my will that my hands grasped his face, spurred him on to intensify the feast on my tits. He was working expertly and demandingly. Using just the right amount of roughness, he kneaded my ivory mounds with his hands, and violated the coral nipples with his lips and teeth. Then his hand was running over my ripe, eager belly and quivering buttocks, again and again returning to my silky, dripping cunt.
"Nearly out of my mind with desire and anticipation, I gave a hard, downward thrust against his strong shoulders. 'Oh, you're forcing me, aren't you? You're making me do all of this. No matter how hard I try to stop you, you're going to suck and fuck me, aren't you? You ... you animal! You're going to make me lie here while you lick between my legs, aren't you? '
"It must have been the signal Ben had been waiting for. He scooted down immediately and began snorting and sniffing, filling his nostrils with the fragrance of my cunt, murmuring about how wonderful it smelled and how much he wanted to taste and fuck it. Then he began munching on my mound and tonguing its nerve center. My hands instinctively went to his head and drew him deeper and deeper into my lubricating crotch. 'Ben, Ben,' I moaned, 'that's so wonderful. Oh, I don't want to let you do that to me, but you're gobbling my cunt no matter how hard I try to stop you, aren't you?' He was barely able to speak.
"Slowly, Ben slid two fingers a little way inside my hole, and began toying with my sensitive inner lips while he continued lapping my clit with just the right amount of pressure. 'You're so nice and tight down here,' he managed to say.
'When I'm finished with you, Wendy, you'll be fit only for horse cocks. I want to ruin you for all other men. I want to fuck you so hard you'll be so stretched no other man will ever want you, do you hear? I'm going to leave my mark on you, Wendy. When I see that little ass wagging down the hall I'll know I ate and fucked that cunt between those legs like no other man ever did or will again. Your cunt will be a hole to accommodate only my cock-my cock."
"Ben went on that way as he toyed with my vagina with his fingers, stopping only now and then to bury his tongue deep inside me or lick the juice from his fingers. His sexy talk was truly beautiful, just like a cunt-crazy rapist's, and I was without guilt, no blame, just a helpless object of his desire. I can't describe how marvelous the sensations felt surging through my body or how gorgeous his sucking sounds were to my ears.
"And then, at last, I knew it was time for me to take some initiative. After all, even female victims can withstand only so much before they lose their minds and yield to dormant instinctive acts, correct? The powerful male animal had conquered me, and now it was time for me to respond. He had won the sexual victory. I, his slave, could stand the tantalizing no longer. For the first time in a year I knew once again the beauty, the absolute wonder of total and absolute submission. I had waited long and patiently, suffering many disappointments. But now I could have the orgasm I'd thirsted for.
"Just then, Ben pulled me hard to him, and I began my first outright cooperation. I knew that he wanted to munch on my pussy in that position, so I spread my cunt lips apart by using my index finger and thumb, and let him eat, taste and sniff every inch of my savory, tight vagina. It was beautiful watching his devotion to my privates, but the feeling was so intense that I fell backward, gasping and stretching as I grabbed his hairy ankles to give his vacuum-like mouth total access to both my holes. I began chanting and writhing in a circular movement over his entire face.
"'Ben, Ben ... ohhhhh,' I kept groaning, pulling at his head with my extended arms. 'If only I could stop you ... you shouldn't ... you mustn't ... but it's so good. You awful man."
"My last pretense of resistance vanished at that moment. His swollen erection was beckoning, tugging at my mouth like a magnet. I quickly grasped his trembling ass in my hands and began lapping his balls and prick in a frenzy. I shoved his big cock so far down my throat I thought I would choke-swallow it completely. 'It's such a beautiful thing,' I whimpered, cradling it between my chin and shoulder, burying it between my breasts. 'Your big, hard dong is the most elegant, luscious thing in the world. You shouldn't force me to do this to you, but it's so yummy nursing on your big, oozing lollipop."
"Ben arched his back and thrust his hips up so high it looked as though he wanted to fuck the ceiling. 'Ohhhh, yesss, Wendy,' he rasped. 'Swallow it all. Take it way down in your hungry little throat."
"Now I really got aggressive. I thought I might get hysterical as I sucked on his stiff rod. He let me go on that way for maybe two minutes, and then he reversed his position and began feeding his big jammer into my tight cunt while he commanded me not to move. He'd really gotten my message by now. He knew just how to treat me. He kept saying that he liked to find shy and weak girls like me and take them to places where nobody would stop him from having his way with them. He said he especially liked to stick his prick up inside the mouths and cunts of young, helpless, pretty chicks like me. He said he could come in my mouth, my ass, or my cunt, but tonight he wanted me flat on my back and squealing for mercy while he slammed his meat to me.
"As he fucked me, I listened to his beautiful, incoherent babbling about the wonders of my tight cunt. He commanded me to squeeze his cock with my vaginal muscles, and I complied. He told me that I'd better not tell anybody about his doing all these things to me, or he'd return and fuck me so hard next time I wouldn't be able to walk. I promised him I wouldn't tell. I wrapped my legs around his own and followed his stabbing tempo as he thrust into my flaming core.
"Just about the time I thought we would both come, Ben said he was going to show me something new, something I'd never experienced before. 'I may not be the first guy to fuck your cunt,' he said, 'but I bet I'm the first to fuck you in the ass."
"He roughly rolled me over onto my stomach and began poking with the engorged head of his stiff rod at the tiny eye of my anus.
"'No,' I gasped, secretly thrilled at this new experience. 'It's too big. It won't fit in there. You can't. Oh, please ... no. ... Ben, it'll tear me!'
"'Don't worry, Wendy,' he snarled. 'It'll fit. Just do as I say. Hold still and leave this to me."
"Slowly he eased his throbbing member into my tiny, virgin asshole, his drippings aiding the lengthy entry. Finally, when his pecker was in to the hilt, totally imbedded into my wiggling butt, I began crying painfully, begging him to stop. Actually, it had hurt, but it hurt nice, if you know what I mean. At the risk of sounding academic, I thought of it as the ultimate violation of the female-the most aggressive male act imaginable. Even though I went on complaining and wincing as he fucked my rear entrance, my rhythmic thrusts were matching his own. As he pumped, I feigned a look of great pain. I looked over my shoulder at him, and the blank, pitiful look of pleasure on his handsome features nearly brought me to anal orgasm. He was up somewhere dwelling in sex heaven as he took my asshole virginity. Still, he had the presence of mind to stimulate my clit with his finger as he fucked, and I was nearing a climax with every stab of his meat. Here I was taking in the biggest cock of my life in the smallest hole of my body, and I was paralyzed with pleasure. The entire lower halves of our bodies were gyrating like those of animals in heat.
"'I don't see how you got it all in,' I murmured, pumping away at his thrusts.
"'It just slid in your bunghole nice and natural, Wendy. Never had a prick up your ass before, eh?'
"'No, but it-it feels nice-nicer all the time. Ummm, fuck my ass, Ben. Fuck it!'
"Ben turned me on my back again and put my knees up on my shoulders. I wouldn't have thought it possible; he had me on my back the way he'd fuck my pussy, but he was fucking my ass instead! Then he shoved his middle finger up my cunt and finger-fucked me while his thumb kept massaging my clit. Both my holes were plugged at once with something male. I was the ultimate female-a human pincushion. I'd had his prick in every hole I possessed and now the final swell, the great wave that always preceded orgasms began. Only this one promised to resemble the one the mysterious rapist had given me a year ago. I thought I'd turn inside out with the intensity of it. Every vertebra, every nerve and fiber of my being seemed to vibrate in a crazy acceleration until I was a blob of trembling helplessness. I vaguely remember hearing Ben's hoarse gasps of pleasure like explosions in my ear-then I blacked out.
"Yes, I actually fainted from the pleasure of that fuck with Ben, and, although I never passed out with him again, our relationship continued for almost two years that way. Unfortunately, after Ben's graduation, he took a job with a big company back East. I've been desperate for the past seven months. When you have the kind of sex hang-up I seem to have, it's not easy finding suitable partners. I either seem to scare them away-if they're presentable-or I find real sadistic types who want to deal out the kind of pain and abuse even I can't stomach.
"If I could just find a sensitive, intelligent, decent-looking man to marry, who would understand this need I have and, so to speak, play out this little game with me, I think I would be the happiest girl in the world."
The phenomenon of females actually enjoying rape is not as rare as many people suppose. Indeed, there are numerous instances where guilt in connection with the sexual act prevents females from reaching orgasm in so-called "normal" heterosexual unions. Fortunately, however, this affliction is nowhere approaching epidemic proportions, although it does exist to varying degrees within a small portion of the female population.
In the case of Wendy, we observe a disturbance which could lead into severe complications. Such a girl is likely to seek lower and lower levels of companionship in her quest for sexual gratification, and thus increase the possibility of her encountering a truly sadistic rapist.
It can be said that even if she could succeed in finding a marital partner to play out her fantasies involving a rapist, the strain of carrying on such a relationship over any period of time would prove too psychologically damaging for either party to bear.
CHAPTER TWO
The Naughty Nymphet
"I was twelve when I first began noticing that Uncle Jeff began taking a very special interest in me. I can't say that I knew for certain at the time that his lingering looks, the expression in his eyes as I danced with him, his many excuses for touching me, were sexual. In looking back though, I suppose I knew very well that our mutual attraction was sexual in nature, and that I was striving very hard to seduce him. So, I cannot blame him for making beautiful love to me at such a tender age. In fact, I look back on that experience with fondness, understanding, love and even a kind of pulse-quickening desire to repeat our lustful acts.
"Yes, under the same circumstances I would do it all over again, changing nothing. You see, it was not a traumatic event for me. True, I did lose my virginity at a very early age, but the only lingering effect I can think of is my desire to perform sexual intercourse on top of the male instead of beneath him.
"I suppose as an expert in this area of human behavior you've heard just about everything. I mean, nothing should shock you. So I'll be as direct, to the point and honest as I can. You'll immediately pounce upon my motivation for permitting Uncle Jeff to have his way with my young body as 'starvation for masculine attention,' I suppose, and maybe you'd be correct. I don't know.
"At any rate, my parents had been divorced since I was five. My father lived in Boston, so I saw him maybe once a year-at Christmas or when he came to San Francisco on business. But Uncle Jeff, who was thirty-five then, lived in San Francisco, too, and he would frequently visit my mother and me. He was tall, with blond curly hair and a muscled body. I thought he was divine. I don't think there was anything between Uncle Jeff and Mother. He was just helpful and kind, and seemed to like both of us very much. His wife had died in an automobile accident several years before, so there was a sort of a sad look in his bright blue eyes, although he had a wonderful sense of humor. Mother would have him over for dinner frequently, and he would stay and talk to us for hours. Sometimes, too, he would 'baby-sit' with me when Mother went out on a date.
"Even when I was twelve I would sit on his lap, and he would read to me, or we would just talk or watch television. Lots of times I danced for him, too. I'm sure it was the dancing that really brought about our sexual contact.
"It's important that I tell you at this point that I was a most unusual dancer. In all modesty, I can truthfully say that I was born to dance. I'd been studying all kinds of dance since the age of four, and my instructors openly praised me as advanced for my age. 'Patricia,' they would say, 'would rather dance than eat. If she continues, she will become a very fine dancer.' This is really what people said. I could improvise a dance to any kind of music-even the experts and professionals would applaud. I didn't walk to school each day. I literally danced my way to school. Dancing was everything to me, and I had no inhibitions about dancing anywhere at any time. I had, they said, a flawless sense of rhythm and an innate ability to express deep emotion with the movements of my young, well-developed body.
"I was also quite precocious in other ways, which I didn't tell people about. I suppose it was my interest in dancing that heightened my interest in the human body in general. I was very much interested in the genitals of men and the breasts of women. My own breasts had started to bud, and I often wondered how their full-grown development could be utilized some day in the dances I was constantly inventing. That's how completely absorbed I was in dancing. Everything I observed, thought or cared about seemed in some way to be related to dancing.
"For instance, I would estimate the length of a man's penis as he sat down. My eyes would quickly and automatically spot the bulge of his penis in his pants, and I'd guess at its length. From a few minor sexual encounters with young boys, I was well aware by then of 'hard ons' and where they were intended to be inserted. Frequently, when alone, I would become excited thinking about erect penises, and then I would either masturbate myself with my finger to orgasm or engage in a frenzied dance to dispel my erotic feelings. In other words, dancing at times became a sex substitute for me.
"It was about this time (when I was twelve years old) that I began noticing Uncle Jeff's penis enlarging as I danced for him. Certain movements of my body made him harder than others and so, when we were alone, I concentrated on movements that got his organ the biggest and hardest. At such times, Uncle Jeff would squirm and try to hide his stiff ramrod, as though embarrassed. I would intensify my hip movements and the gyrations of my upper body to maximize the erotic effect and bring what little movement I could to my undersized breasts. You see, they do not give report cards or the like for dance skill, so my method of measuring dancing skill was Uncle Jeff's prick. When it grew stiff and long in a short period of time, and when his breath came fast and his eyes fastened on my feminine charms, I knew I was performing like an honor student.
"Frequently, when the music ceased abruptly, I would quickly place myself in his lap in order to feel his swollen shaft against me. Sometimes, too, when we wrestled playfully on the floor, his organ would swell and I would find ways of brushing against it or even touching it with my hand. It's a wonder the poor man held out as long as he did against my intense sexual campaign. Of course, when mother was in the house I conducted myself and my dances in an entirely different manner. But even he had a breaking point I learned. And once that point was reached, he had to relieve himself, had to become the aggressive, forceful being nature designed him to be. In looking back, I believe I would never have taken the initiative or asked Uncle Jeff to fuck me, despite my seductive games. No, it was he who had to make the move. But when he did, I was confused. Something deep within me told me that what we were doing was wrong, that I was too young to engage in sex with a relative. I did resist him at first.
"I remember that afternoon perfectly. Uncle Jeff was seated on our sofa in the living room, his prick erect as I danced to a record of Ravel's Bolero. Uncle Jeff had been staying with me for three days now while Mother was in the hospital for an appendectomy. Each day I had danced for him, and we talked and were very cozy. Once, while we were playing checkers the day before, I gazed into his eyes and said, 'Uncles don't usually stare at their nieces the way you're staring at me, Uncle Jeff, do they?' He promptly cleared his throat and became very business-like.
"Then, later that night when tucking me into bed, I noticed he kissed me differently from before. He kissed my eyes and neck lingeringly as his elbow pressed into my vagina. 'You-you're going to be a famous dancer some day,' he panted. 'You're a very beautiful and intelligent girl, Patricia.' Then he forced himself to leave my room with considerable effort. When the light was out and I was alone, my hand stole between my legs, and I masturbated myself to orgasm.
"When I had finished and the aftereffects of my orgasm had passed, I stole down the hall to where Uncle Jeff was sleeping, and slyly peeked into the room. I don't know what I was after, but I got an eyeful. The lamp on the nightstand was on, and Uncle Jeff was jacking himself off, groaning my name over and over again. His eyes were tightly closed as he thrust his hips so that his huge hard on came up to meet his pounding fist, permitting me to see intermittent glimpses of his bulbous, purplish-brown cock head. I remained in the shadows, fascinated by what I saw. I'd never seen a man's prick that size before, and I'd never watched a male masturbate before either. It was gorgeous.
"I can't begin to tell you how inflated my ego became to hear a grown, handsome man groaning, 'Patricia, Patricia ... you adorable sex goddess. I want to suck and fuck your beautiful little pussy. Oh, God, how much longer can I hold out ... how much longer can I resist fucking that gorgeous pussy of yours ... Patricia ... Patricia ... oh ... ohhhhh...."
"And then for the first time I saw what an ejaculation looked like. Uncle Jeff's cock suddenly became a spouting whale. It was the most exciting thing I'd ever witnessed. His white sperm began erupting in mighty jolts, spewing forth as high as two of three feet into the air, and then fell like snow all over his stomach and pounding fist. His mouth was gulping, thinking of my titties and pussy, I guessed, as his hand finally slowed in tempo as he emitted a long sigh.
"Right then I imagined that great spurt of come spurting into my insides, and I knew that, more than anything, I wanted his big, beautiful penis inside of me so I could release that mighty, magic gush of sperm right between my legs in my pussy. Uncle Jeff lay there exhausted for a long time before he cleaned himself off. Then, I returned to my room, and masturbated the inner folds and clitoris of my wet slit once again until I came.
"But I'm getting out of sequence here. To resume where I left off, which was actually the next afternoon while dancing to Ravel's Bolero for Uncle Jeff, I saw that his penis was nice and hard once again. After seeing him jack off the night before-actually seeing the contour, the real flesh and size of his organ and that beautiful spurt of come, and now seeing his erection-my dance took on an entirely different significance. Oh, how I danced. Usually, when I performed for him, I wore my black leotards, but today I wore the skirt and blouse I'd worn to school. So now I was able to kick and move in such a way that he could see my panties-and my crotch. After all, my uncle had cried out my name as he'd come the night before, hadn't he? Wouldn't glimpses of my slit beneath my pink panties delight him? I was a virtuoso as I propelled myself to the music. My long, dark hair fell over my face ... my eyes blazed. I held my tiny breasts in my hands and thrust my hips in all directions. I writhed on the floor, leaped high into the air-did everything I could imagine in this creative dance I invented as a sort of tribute to the gushing penis I'd observed just last night.
"At last, just before the final crescendo of the music, I saw that Uncle Jeff's pants were wet at the tip of the bulge of his prick. His stomach was caving in and out, too, involuntarily as he tried to hide his arousal with his fist. I couldn't tell whether he was trying to masturbate or merely attempting to hide his hard on from me, but I was certain he was nearing the end of his sexual rope, so to speak. Just before the music came to an abrupt finish, I fell to the floor and lay on my back with my legs wide apart and my skirt hiked high up on my chest. I was lying so that my widespread legs gave him a direct view of my crotch. Except for my hard breathing from my dancing, I lay very still for at least a minute. Then, finally, I propped myself up on one elbow and said, 'Uncle Jeff, did you like my dance?'
"Uncle Jeff merely gulped and nodded, his eyes sort of bugging out as he wiped perspiration from his forehead. "Very-uh-very good, Patricia,' he managed to stammer.
"'Come on down on the floor and let's wrestle,' I said, blinking my lashes as seductively as I could, imitating actresses I'd seen on TV and in the movies. 'Uh-not-not just now,' he said. 'That was quite a dance, Patricia. Let me-yes-better give me a little time to recover, dear.' I knew what he meant. He was waiting for his hard on to go away, and he was probably embarrassed about the wet spot on the front of his pants. I can't truthfully say I wanted him to fuck me, or even touch my sex, but I wanted him next to me. As I said, my feelings about him varied from time to time. I secretly wanted him, of course, but I guess I wanted to be a 'good girl,' too. Maybe I thought wrestling would release the sexual energy that seemed to be in the air.
"I got up and grabbed him by the hand. Then I pulled him down on the floor beside me. This was actually very common and usually innocent, because we frequently wrestled this way on the carpet. 'Come on, Uncle Jeff,' I insisted. 'We always wrestle, I want to wrestle now. Please? I danced for you, so now you have to wrestle with me."
"I saw that his hard on had dwindled just a little. Reluctantly he agreed, but he was careful to keep his penis from rubbing against me. Finally, though, I got him on his back and pinned his arms down over his head. Then, before he realized what I was doing, I scooted up and pressed my wet pussy-even under my panties it was wet-right against his hard on and began riding him like a horse. Immediately, his cock got even harder, but I didn't comment on it or even mention that I was aware of anything different as I rubbed my clit as hard as I could up and down the length of his big, bone-hard prick.
"It was really paradise, riding his penis that way and knowing that nobody could interrupt us. Mother wasn't due out of the hospital for two more days, and I had Uncle Jeff right where I wanted him. But all of a sudden I knew I would come if I kept riding his prick for even ten seconds longer, and for some reason I sensed that what I was doing was wrong. How could I do this with my own uncle? He was being a gentleman, not poking me with his prick and even pretending to ignore the fact that I was acting like a bitch in heat. Yes, I was behaving cheap-like a little whore with no upbringing or manners. I was nothing but a dirty little girl. Sure, he had jacked himself off. I had watched and heard him mention my name just as he had come, but that was something he had done in private-or thought he'd done in private. That didn't make him dirty. The fact was, he had controlled whatever sexual feelings he felt for his niece, knowing that these feelings were wrong, and he had conducted himself as best he could in my presence. And now I was behaving like some kind of filthy animal.
"With effort and a feeling of self-disgust, I stopped riding his cock and started to get up. And that's when it happened. Uncle Jeff clamped my wrist tightly, and he placed his other arm about my waist, holding me firmly against his hard on. 'Don't-don't stop what you were doing, Patricia,' he commanded. His voice was low and urgent, and I knew he meant what he said. 'I mean, we're having fun, aren't we? Please don't stop. Go on riding me that way till I tell you to stop."
"Confused, I just stared into his handsome face. 'I-I don't know, Uncle Jeff. Pm sort of tired from dancing."
"His grip really tightened on me then. When he spoke it was definitely a command. 'I said keep on moving that way on top of me until I say to stop,' he spat. Slowly I obeyed and began moving back and forth, up and down his cock as I'd done before. This time, though, he tugged at my buttocks as I rode, moving his hips from the floor to meet my own thrusts. Pretty soon we were both moaning and moving faster-my pussy had begun to feel all tingly again. Uncle Jeff really shoved his prick at my hole now, as he massaged my tits under my blouse. I raised up and began riding just like a bucking bronco while I clasped my hands over his as they kneaded my nipples. For a long time we didn't say a word, just breathed hard and moaned and stared into each other's eyes. Finally, though, Uncle Jeff moved one of his hands to my bottom to give him firmer thrusts. Then, after a while of this, he said, 'I'm going to take your pants off, Patsy, but you're never going to tell your mother or anyone, do you hear? Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I'm older than you, and I know all about this, but not a word to anyone-ever."
"I was so hot and ready to come I would have done anything at that moment. I remembered how beautiful his prick had looked that night when he had masturbated and shot his sperm out that I would have done absolutely anything he asked right then. 'Not-not a word,' I echoed, bending down and planting a big kiss on his cheek. And then, as I found myself showering his face with loving kisses, he raised me slightly and slid my panties down over my ankles. Oh, God-then our bodies were together again. He had his big hands on my bottom and titties, and I could feel the actual heat of his love pole rubbing hard against my clit and inner cunt lips. I just kept on kissing his face and letting his hand on my bottom tickle my cunt lips. Then I heard the sound of a zipper and I knew he was taking out his cock. I came twice that way-each time thinking I might die from pleasure. And I wondered how he could keep from coming himself for so long. He was dripping so much love juice and so was I that his prick moving against my vagina sounded like a hungry cat lapping milk.
"'You've come a couple of times, haven't you?' Uncle Jeff asked suddenly. I admitted that I had. 'Good,' he said. 'Come with me into your mother's bedroom now.' I was surprised that he would stop before coming himself. I was certain he hadn't shot his sperm yet. He got up, lifted me by my hands and led me into the bedroom. Without discussing it, we both stripped naked. 'Lie down,' he said, and we both lay side by side on the bed. His hard on stood just as straight and stiff as it had the night before, and I was surprised at his composure and control. 'This is something a man doesn't do to a girl until she's considerably older,' he said softly. 'But-well, you're a remarkable young girl. I lost control and so here we are. I like you a great deal, Patricia.' He was rubbing his hand up and down my back and bottom, fondling my titties gently. He kissed my cheek as he went on. 'The truth is, you're beautiful. I wish you were older and not my niece. Then we could be true lovers."
"I nestled on his powerful shoulder. 'I love you, too, Uncle Jeff,' I said, snuggling closer, wanting to feel every bit of his warm, beautiful body against me. 'You're handsome and wonderful, and I wish we could be full-time lovers."
"'You're only twelve, but you're very mature for your age,' he said. 'Mentally and physically. You're my little sweetheart, and you know I won't hurt you, so just do what I say and relax. I've been noticing you for a long time now, Patricia."
"I gently touched his penis with my hand. 'I've noticed that you've noticed,' I said, feeling very much like an adult.
"Uncle Jeff gave me a long, openmouthed kiss, inserting his tongue into my mouth. Then he stared deeply into my eyes and fingered my nipples. 'Yes, Patsy, and I've noticed that you noticed that I noticed,' he said, grinning.
"We both laughed. Then suddenly he grew serious. 'I guess I could stop this right now,' he said, 'but I don't want to. What we're doing is considered wrong with a girl your age, but I don't want to stop now. When I was about your age, an older woman taught me things I've remembered as being very beautiful. She was lovely, kind and gentle-that's the way I plan to be with you. That experience didn't hurt me one bit. In fact, it helped me. That's why we're going ahead with this."
"'I love you, Uncle Jeff,' I said, tears streaming down my cheeks joyfully. 'I want you to teach me and show me everything. And I'll remember what you said. Not a word to anybody."
"'Good girl. Just relax now and lie back. Spread your pretty legs apart slightly, my dear.' I obeyed, and after holding me in his arms with his hard cock against my belly and kissing me for a long time, he began telling me how beautiful I was and what a wonderful, talented girl I was as he palmed my breasts. He kissed my lips again and I realized what he meant by 'french kissing.' Our tongues began playing delightful games as he continued to work on my firm, small tits. 'Everything I'm doing to you is what adults do with each other-nothing ugly, wrong, or perverse-do you understand?' he said. 'Some things we do may be new to you, but they're perfectly normal, okay?'
"I cuddled still closer. 'Ummm. So far I like it, Uncle Jeff. It feels good, and I want to know about everything.' Uncle Jeff kissed my neck and ears for a long time, biting me just a little, then gradually his kissing descended to my breasts. His tongue played with my nipples for a long time before he really took them deep into his mouth and sucked. I was really off in another world now, pumping up to meet his hard on with my tummy. I'd touched his prick gingerly before, but now he took my hand by the wrist and placed his prick inside my palm. I squeezed it hard, instinctively feeling its strength, measuring and exploring its dimension and texture. 'Perfect,' he said. 'That's the way to handle a man's cock. Don't squeeze the balls too hard, though. They're rather sensitive."
"I already knew about men's testicles being touchy, so I just fondled them tenderly. He showed me how to jack his prick in a way that simulated fucking a girl's cunt, although it wasn't nearly as good. After I'd jacked his prick and he'd sucked my titties for a long time, he spread my legs farther apart and began palming my pubic mound. Then he dipped his finger lightly into my waiting slit. I was nice and wet down there by now. 'We're made for each other, Patricia,' he cooed. I jacked his peter still harder. 'Oh, yesss,' I replied. 'Does your cunt feel good the way I'm touching it?' he asked. 'Better than anything,' I returned. 'Does-does your prick feel good, too?' I asked. 'Am I doing it right? Am I, Uncle Jeff?' "Uncle Jeff bit my earlobe. 'You're doing just fine. This is the way it's supposed to be, Patsy. Nice for both of us."
"He sucked my titties to perfection for a long time while he toyed with my clitoris with one hand and fondled my body all over with his other. My hands became still bolder on his cock, and I realized that it was meant for fondling-a plaything meant for anything I wanted to do with it. I remember even thinking about kissing it.
"'Uncle Jeff, are you going to stick your-your thing into my pussy?' I asked, finally.
"'We'll see,' he said. 'I haven't decided yet. That depends on how you progress. There are lots of other things I want to show you first."
"I held both his cock and balls in my hands then, and gave him a big wet kiss on the mouth. 'I think I want you to fuck me,' I said. 'I think I really do. Will you?'
"'We'll just have to wait and see,' he repeated.
"'Whatever you say, Uncle Jeff,' I said. 'Everything feels so good, though. I don't want to miss anything."
"Uncle Jeff's middle finger was entering my channel now. 'Have many boys played with you before?'
"I didn't want Uncle Jeff to think I was a whore, but I felt compelled to tell the truth. 'Just a few,' I said. 'One boy stuck his finger all the way up and it hurt quite a bit. I bled, too."
"'Good, you're not an absolute virgin then,' he said, sticking his finger still farther up me. 'You're nice and tight, though,' he said, his voice low and changing slightly. 'All you lack is a cock in there-even a tongue."
"Uncle Jeff's rod was really dribbling now. 'A tongue?' I asked.
"Uncle Jeff removed his finger from my pussy, sniffed it and then licked it thoroughly. 'Sure, a tongue. Just relax now and I'll show you something like you never felt before. Boys eat girls' pussies all the time-girls suck men's cocks, too. It's called cocksucking.' Uncle Jeff began a kissing descent now, bathing my rib cage and tummy and navel, and I thought he would never reach his objective, which I knew was my pussy. Finally, he was lapping at my downy pubic hair and going up and down the length of my whole crotch. 'What a beauty of a cunt!' he panted, pausing to raise my legs high and stare into my vagina. And then he was dining on my clitoris, clutching my buttocks with his smooth palms as I listened to his sucking sounds and felt his saliva dripping down my ass from my cunt. And then, for the third time that afternoon, I came very quickly, pumping my ass hard and fast in his hands and telling him in high-pitched whimpers not to stop. 'Uncle Jeff, Uncle Jeff. Ohhhhhh,' I screamed as wave after wave of pleasure spread through my trembling body."
It should be stated that the sexual incest relationship between Patricia and her uncle should be viewed with three factors in mind: (I) both parties here desired total and complete sexual union; (2) no physical damage resulted to the young girl; and (3) no immediate trauma is visible in either party as a result of the incident.
Though it is obvious the uncle in question was rationalizing, his apparently altruistic intention to provide his niece with her first real satisfactory sexual experience was his way of repaying, so to speak, a debt to a woman who had introduced him to sex during his youth. His ends were now being justified by his means. The uncle was realistically unable, however, to control himself socially and emotionally in the presence of temptation.
The lack of a father figure within the home environment was for Patricia a contributing factor in her intentional overtures to the uncle, who easily and willingly took the place of the absent father. Who, then, should be singled out as the aggressor in this incident? The question must be answered in the terms of both parties. Certainly Patricia gave of herself considerably in fostering the advances of her uncle. On the other hand, the uncle showed little resistance in denying the obvious temptations-however innocent they may appear-of his niece.
We assume the uncle was torn to some extent between the right and wrong of his actions, with the incest taboo being brought to the surface momentarily during the actual act. Even the young girl experienced some emergence of the taboo, although not in sufficient strength to counter the sexual drive she was experiencing at the same time.
Apart from the fact of incest itself, one should not be too surprised at a child of Patricia's age engaging in sexual intercourse. It would be surprising, however, if it were possible to accurately compile statistics on how many youngsters in this country engage in sexual encounters-both boys and girls-at an early age.
R. E. L. Masters did extensive research into the sex history of the Tahitians, reporting in his Forbidden Sexual Behavior and Morality that in Matomba province, children, when they reached the age of twelve, were locked up together with others of their age in a hut, where both sexes were erotically indoctrinated by the priests. Under no circumstances were the children afterwards permitted to tell what use the priest had made of them-a seemingly superfluous prohibition, since all the adults had taken their degrees at the same university. However, the regulation undoubtedly contributed to the performance of all manner of sexual variations and deviations by the priests with the children-behavior which it may be assumed the children then practiced among themselves and carried over into their adult sex relationships, where it would be regarded as altogether normal.
Excluding the incest factor, it would seem that Patricia and her uncle indulged in sexual activities which have been in vogue for some time, indeed, even considered normal and apparently widely practiced in contemporary society behind closed doors. While one can always cite a more extreme example in order to lessen the sting of any offense, consider Masters' description of incestuous activity from his previously quoted book.
The Caribs, much addicted to the sexual exploitation of children, would purchase infants while they were still in their mothers' wombs, and they marked the bellies of the purchased infants at birth so that there might be no evasion later on. They would claim their purchases when the child had reached the age of seven or eight years old, and when they had made sexual use of him (or her) to a surfeit, they frequently disposed of their little victim by murdering him.
The sexual relations of adults with children may sometimes take the form of open and sanctioned incest. Thus, in Guatemala, there used to be celebrated certain holidays on which orgies were staged, with men copulating with their young daughters, and boys with their mothers. (The findings of anthropologists have long since tolled a death knell for the alleged unwavering universality of the rule of exogamy, or incest prohibition.)
It might be concluded that Patricia and her uncle certainly were not blazing any new sexual trails when they committed incest and indulged in both cunnilingus and fellatio. However, we may conclude from these examples of sexual abuse of children that existing laws upholding the "age of consent" concept are necessary if this society is to continue to grow and prosper.
"Well, that afternoon represented my first orgasm with a male and, of course, my first orgasm with anything other than my own finger for that matter! I had never dreamed that a mouth-a tongue-could make a pussy feel so good! For a long time after coming, I lay trembling and whimpering out the aftermath of my come in Uncle Jeff's arms. He calmed me with tender words and rubbed my back and bottom gently as I slowly returned to earth. Then, when I had returned to normal once again, I began to wonder why he hadn't come. 'Aren't you going to come, too?' I asked, puzzled.
"He told me then not to worry about him-that he would take care of himself some way. I told him then that I'd watched him jack off the night before in mother's bedroom and so I knew he liked to come. He just looked at me in amazement, then laughed. 'My, you are a curious little girl, aren't you?' he said. 'Tell me, aren't you a little sore down there?' he asked.
"I snuggled close and kissed his cheek. 'To tell the truth, I am,' I confessed, 'but I want you to come, too. It isn't fair for me to come and you to suffer."
"He told me that I was considerate and would make a man a wonderful wife someday. 'Yes, I guessed you might be a little tender right now,' he said. 'Perhaps we'll wait until tomorrow before seeing if you can fuck."
"I clutched his still very hard prick and groaned in disappointment. 'But I want you to feel good, too, Uncle Jeff. Isn't there something we can do to make you come?' I played with his prick, jacking it slowly up and down. 'I love your big hard peter. I'll do anything you tell me to make you come. Honest."
"He was pumping his hips now to meet my moving hand on his prick. 'God, you are a rare find, Patsy,' he said. 'One in a million. The kind of girl a man dreams of. I'll tell you what. While we give your pussy a rest, just keep jacking me off that way and then, pretty soon, you can kiss it a little. All right?'
"Immediately my throat constricted slightly in anticipation. 'You mean what you called "cocksucking" before?' I asked, visualizing his sperm shooting into the air as I'd watched him masturbate last night. 'With my mouth?'
"'Yes,' Uncle Jeff replied, 'That's something a girl should know about, and it will give your pussy a rest, as I said, until tomorrow when I'll instruct you in fucking. But you must do everything just as I tell you, understand?'
"My pussy was slightly sore, but at the sound of my patient teacher's voice my cunt still tingled with curiosity and desire and all sorts of indescribable feelings. 'Oh, yes, yes,' I whispered.
"Uncle Jeff and I were lying on our sides now as I jacked his rigid hard on between my hands. He kept on talking to me as juice kept dripping out the end of his cock, making my hands just like a pussy. As he talked, he groaned sometimes, too, and his hips plunged more urgently and faster. 'Patsy, Patsy, Patsy,' he muttered in a desperate voice and talked deliriously of sucking my 'twat' and fucking me. His legs alternately stiffened and relaxed and he began babbling a little like a madman. To think that I, a mere twelve-year-old, could give him such pleasure sent tingles throughout my entire body. I was Uncle Jeff's sex slave, sort of, but he was my sex slave, too! I was learning things that would affect my entire life and I knew it!
"He held my ass very tight and shuddered and panted in my ear all those beautiful forbidden words as he pumped. He told me that he loved me and would always love me and wanted only the best for me. He told me that it was an honor to be the first man to really introduce me to the pleasures of sex, that nothing was 'dirty' and that I should always enjoy and like sex with men, that it was healthy and normal and natural for it to be the best and most wonderful feeling I would ever know.
"As I listened and felt his stabbing prick against my palms I told Uncle Jeff that I loved him and wanted to marry him, but he tactfully and breathlessly explained that that was impossible, that I would have to share these marvelous sensations on a full-time basis with a husband who was not related to me. And as I jacked his prick and fondled his big balls he said I would have to base a marriage on more than just sex with the man I chose. 'I like even this,' I said, getting all excited again. Even though my cunt was slightly sore I was willing to try fucking if Uncle Jeff wanted to. 'Is fucking just as good for you?'
"He told me that it was, that it was different but that it was probably the very best way to make love. I told him that I wanted to fuck right then and find out what it was like even though my pussy was sore. 'Right now I want you to kiss my cock and learn about cocksucking. Tomorrow we'll fuck, I promise,' he said. He explained that his prick was clean and that lots of girls sucked men's cock before fucking. He told me to just start kissing and to play it by instinct for a while. 'Just sort of improvise-the same way you do when you dance,' he said. 'Go as far as you want and use your tongue lots. I don't want to destroy any natural ability in the art you may already have. Let yourself go and be natural. I'll guide you from time to time, of course, to see that you learn properly."
"Uncle Jeff's comparing cocksucking to dancing was a stroke of genius. I understood exactly what he meant and permitted myself to go into the same kind of creative trance I do when I dance. He lay on his back, relaxed with his giant flesh spear pointing up at the ceiling and I lay with my head on his stomach and began showering his rod with kisses all over. Finally, very slowly, he opened my mouth slightly with his fingertips and indicated that I should take the head of his penis into my mouth instead of just lapping at it. I instinctively understood and, gingerly at first, let my lips surround the bulging head and began nursing there just the way he had nursed on my titties. He sighed pitifully and then began thrusting further and further into my mouth. 'Men love this,' he whispered very softly. 'It's almost like fucking a pussy. Just pretend your mouth is a pussy, Patsy-a nice, tight, wet and slippery pussy. Then tomorrow we'll fuck-yes, I'll teach you how to fuck. But you must learn this first, dear. You must suck my cock just right, as though you really adore it."
"'I do adore it, Uncle Jeff,' I said, ceasing my efforts for a second. A long strand of pearly come-just like a spider web-ran from my wet lips to the tiny crack in the tip of his prick as I lifted my head. I severed the strand while he watched and then swallowed the come. 'Good,' he said, palming my cheek. 'That's a good sign, Patsy. You seem to be a born cocksucker. That means you'll probably be good at fucking, too.' His praise spurred me on to even greater effort now and I took his prick farther into my mouth until I could feel the velvety head touching my throat.
"He placed both hands on my head then and ran his fingers through my hair. 'You're-you're doing it just right, Patsy,' he complimented. 'You amaze me, dear. You have that instinctive intuitive know-how that is most rare ... ah, that's it ... good ... good, dear. If you continue this well I may even permit you to remain there when I come. We'll see. So far you're earning the right to remain there to the very end. Yes, you're working with your mouth on my cock like a veteran cocksucker and you're only twelve. Yes, you can suck a cock almost as well as you can dance. A first-rate blow job, darling ... first-rate '
"Uncle Jeff's words of praise were music to my ears. I was accustomed to praise from my dance instructors and these compliments regarding my ability to suck his cock correctly, inflated my ego. I was determined to earn the right to take his come in my mouth when he came. It would represent a kind of reward, a trophy for a perfect 'blow job' as he'd called it. I began letting my fingers run ticklingly over his fuzzy balls as I sucked, too, and he seemed to like this.
"I had been mouthing and tonguing Uncle Jeff's glistening and erect shaft for a long time, savoring each movement and grunt of pleasure, when to my disappointment he suddenly began puffing very hard and stopped my motion. 'I-I don't think I should come in your mouth!' he rasped. 'You may not like it. Sometimes-sometimes when a girl first tastes a man's come it shocks her and ruins her forever in the art. I wouldn't want to risk ruining your obvious genius while you're still at the learning stage! '
"I took his desperate raving as a challenge. I had sucked long and lovingly and I was not to be denied my trophy. Besides, I had loved sucking his cock so far. Why wouldn't I love drinking my uncle's come? Even if it didn't taste like a vanilla milk shake, I was so excited I simply knew I would like the flavor. 'Please! Please!' I begged. 'I want to taste the sperm! ' I was straining against his strong arm, my lips wide and starving to encircle his engorged hard on once again.
"
"Very well,' he conceded, finally, 'but if for any reason you change your mind just stop sucking when the sperm begins to shoot out and finish by jacking me off with your hand. But you mustn't stop once the come starts pouring out."
"' Yes, all right,' I gasped, and lunged so that once again his meat pole was inside my mouth.
"'Patsy,' he said sternly, restraining my neck with his hands. 'No teeth! It's sensitive, and touching a cock with your teeth will ruin everything! Yes, yes ... that's better ... yes, now you're getting it ... pretty soon I'll come if you suck it that way ... it's going to come pretty soon ... just a few minutes of that kind of action and I'll go off
... ummmmmm ... yeah ... that's it, Patsy....
"I'd felt terribly embarrassed and rejected by his criticism, but now everything was all right and his prick was gliding with a steady motion while I twirled my tongue voraciously around its pulsing head. Juice was running down the firm stalk and onto Uncle Jeff's balls and I rubbed his cream into his love bulbs as I went on sucking his gorgeous prick that would soon spurt his magic juice right into my mouth. I began mewing and whimpering, never wanting his cock to leave my mouth and not wanting him to shoot off and end this wonderful moment. I had never felt such conflicting feelings as I gave him what I knew had to be a fine cocksucking for a newcomer. Here I was sucking a real cock-a real man's cock-and tomorrow I would have this same beautiful hard on in my pussy!
"Suddenly Uncle Jeff did a strange thing. He withdrew his hot pole from my craving mouth and held it at a distance while he jacked himself slowly for my inspection. I tried to get the thing back into my mouth, but he held me back-teasing me with his big flesh peppermint stick, the way you'd tease a child with candy, holding his cock beyond reach of my lips. I cried out, but he went on taunting me that way, holding his precious meat just inches from my dripping chin while he jacked himself off slowly and kept asking me again if I really wanted to go on sucking and if I really wanted the privilege of swallowing his come. 'Are you sure you want it more than anything, Patsy?' he asked, staring at me sadistically. 'Do you really want my cock back inside your hot little mouth so you can swallow my come? Do you? Do you?'
"I begged him not to do this to me, but I could hardly form words. My answer was just little breath-whines as I struggled with all my might to engulf his hard on once again in my mouth. But still he held his prick at a distance, telling me he just might let it spurt outside so we could both watch it spurt and dribble down over my chin and my titties. 'You'd like that, Patsy?' he asked. 'Wouldn't you like to watch my come shoot directly at you?'
"Yes, I would have settled for that, I guess, if I'd been forced to do so, but I knew he was teasing me and I didn't want to settle for anything short of taking his love juice right up from his balls and down my throat. It had become an obsession with me. I began yelling my head off, like a baby demanding its bottle and, finally, in self-defense, Uncle Jeff permitted me to take his hot meat back into my mouth. 'Yes, you do want it, don't you?' he teased. 'But you mustn't swallow it whole, Patsy, and the no-teeth rule still applies. Just nurse nice and easy. When the time comes there'll be plenty for you to drink ... that's it ... that's my little cocksucker...."
"I was literally going crazy as I waited for my reward to shoot out the end of Uncle Jeff's prick; each breath I drew was a frenzied little cry as I tried to bring Uncle Jeff to the heights. He began fingering my bottom then, very lightly, almost tickling it. 'Most guys are so eager to get pleasure they forget to give it,' he gasped. 'I'll give you this little bonus while you suck. Then, just before I shoot off I'll stick my finger in your bottom so you'll know it's time. When you feel my finger jab, you can expect a mouthful of come."
"Uncle Jeff's tickling finger in my rear entrance did feel sort of good, in a different kind of way, but I could only reply in grateful grunts and groans as I sucked and gobbled his cock. 'Okay, Patsy,' Uncle Jeff began chanting. 'I'm almost there.' His legs stiffened and I felt the pressure of his finger in my asshole. 'Yes, you've almost got me there, Patsy. Suck, suck ... yes ... yes ... ummm...."
"I bobbed my head faster and faster, twirling my tongue rapidly around the rim of the head as Uncle Jeff slammed his prick hard into the back of my throat. 'Yess ... any second. I'm going off now ... coming ... coming ... now ... coming. ... Oh, take it all, Patsy ... take all my come!'
"Uncle Jeff's finger was halfway up my bottom then. 'Here it comes!' Uncle Jeff said, shuddering incredibly. 'Don't jump off the bed or anything silly. It's coming out now right into your mouth! ' "This was one phase of the lesson Uncle Jeff didn't have to tell me about, because already I could feel his swirling seed spilling into my mouth. His body grew stiff and he vibrated all over, just like a diving board. I continued my up-and-down movement and opened my throat wide, waiting for the dam to break. I actually tried to ingest his immense swollen prick and I could hear myself gulping as I gobbled Uncle Jeff's ball juice. It was really as though I was dying of thirst from my long but pleasurable efforts as I drank down clump after clump of flinging sperm that scalded its way down my throat and into my waiting tummy. I thought there was no end to it.
"It was then that Uncle Jeff began going into a kind of convulsion. Up until now he had been the master instructor, seemingly in control as he guided his pupil, but now his hands tore at my hair and the bedspread and his breath came in frightening gasps as I continued to drain every last drop of sperm. Finally, calming slightly, he assisted me in my urgent mission and milked his own balls with one hand and then ran his hand along the length of his shaft to ensure the total drainage of his organ. It was one of the most satisfying moments of my life, and when it was over we both collapsed and took a long nap.
"Several hours later, when we woke up we were so exhausted and emotionally spent we just undressed completely and climbed beneath the sheets and to sleep the whole night through.
"All through school the next day, I could barely concentrate on my studies. My mind kept racing to the evening that lay ahead. Uncle Jeff had promised to fuck me. That night I would become a woman and know how it felt to have a stiff male cock in my pussy!
"It seemed like an eternity between the time I reached home that afternoon and later that evening when Uncle Jeff came home. When he finally arrived I ran to him at the door and we embraced, just like lovers out of a play. 'I-I thought you'd never get here,' I said, showering his face with hungry kisses.
"'Well,' he replied, 'to what do I owe this fantastic welcome? '
"There wasn't a trace of restraint in my body as I kissed and pressed myself to him. 'You know,' I said. 'You promised to-to show me something else tonight ... the most important thing about making love."
"Uncle Jeff had been playing games with me I realized then as I felt his hard on swell and press against me. 'Ah, yes,' he said. 'Yes, I do recall something about making love tonight. Frankly, I thought you'd probably forgotten all about it."
"I rushed over to the phonograph and put on a Stravinsky recording, The Firebird Suite. As the introduction began I told him to sit down so I could dance for him. He did, but he asked me if I would dance naked for him this time. I stripped down to the nude at once, tossing my clothes in a heap and began the most sensuous, seductive dance I'd ever attempted. As I danced there was absolutely no trace of inhibition in either of us. I fucked the air, you might say, as I writhed to the rhythms, and about halfway through the composition Uncle Jeff took his prick out and began slowly jacking himself off as he watched. Finally, when the music ended, he rose and led me to the bedroom. 'Now, my little beauty, I will teach you how to fuck."
"We lay down on the bed just as we had done the previous afternoon and our bodies intertwined. We kissed and licked and played with each other's bodies once again for a long while before Uncle Jeff said: 'You seem ready for the fucking now, Patsy."
"I held his throbbing hard on tightly in my hand and shivered in anticipation. 'Oh, yes, yes,' I pleaded. 'I want to know everything about fucking.
I want your prick inside me now.' After yesterday's beginning-my riding him on the floor before adjourning to the bedroom-I had the desire to climb on top of him, but I could tell he wanted me on my back, so I complied.
"He talked nice and dirty as he wiped the head of his hot meat up and down my cunt with his hand and sucked hard on my tits. 'This might hurt just a little at first,' he warned, 'but I'll be as gentle as possible and I'm sure you'll love it, Patsy. If at any time I hurt you, please tell me, all right?'
"'Yes, all right. Please hurry, though.' At that instant I was so hot and anxious to have his prick inside me I didn't care if it hurt more than burning or cutting myself. I had to have that big meat wedge stick me quick.
"Slowly, palming my shivering ass, Uncle Jeff scooted around so that his firm hips were between my widespread legs. 'I've never wanted to fuck a girl more than right now,' he said, and then he placed the pulsing head of his thick rod at my oozing channel. He paused then, poised on his hands and knees, and tantalized me for one last instant by kissing my mouth and sucking my nipples passionately before exerting pressure with his cock. Then, I guess when he was absolutely certain that I was physically and psychologically ripe (God, was I ripe!), he began easing the hot tool between my tight cunt lips. I guess I was even smaller than he had imagined and he said something about not being able to pierce me all the way on the first try.
"'You have to, Uncle Jeff!' I cried. 'I'll die if you don't stick it all the way inside!' I envisioned my mother returning home from the hospital earlier than expected and our never being able to fuck. This thought made me frantic. I tugged very hard on his firm ass and begged him to penetrate me.
"He did, and despite myself I emitted a painful groan as the thick organ made headway. 'Sorry, my sweet,' he apologized. 'First time is always a little difficult ... if you just wouldn't be in such a rush, Patsy."
"'I don't care! It-it does hurt just a little, but it-it feels sooooo good at the same time ... ummmm...."
"He pushed a little harder and again I cried out, but it was a marvelous pain. His prick was about a third of the way in now, I figured. The thought that I was a virgin getting her first fuck captured my imagination and I realized that Uncle Jeff was creating a kind of mold for all future cocks that would probe my unfucked cunt-all the big pricks that would invade the privacy of my hole.
"'Can you take a little more?' Uncle Jeff asked.
"'Oh, yes, yessssss,' I squealed, wrapping my legs around him and digging my heels into the small of his back. 'Oh, your prick belongs inside me, doesn't it? My pussy was made for your big cock."
"Uncle Jeff grunted and kept on shoving, gently giving me an inch or so at a time. 'It's like hot melted butter inside there,' he moaned. 'Nearly impassable, but, Jesus, it's the tightest fuck I ever had."
"After what seemed an eternity, I estimated nine inches of prick was buried within me to the hilt. Exercising restraint, he began pumping steadily in and out of what he kept calling my 'tight little oven' and, oddly, I could feel the heat of his throbbing member, too. Once we were really fucking-really had a rhythm going, I began chanting, 'Oh, Uncle Jeff, it's all the way in now.' I reached down and fingered the big vein at its base. 'Your whole prick's inside my slit!'
"He slowed then and stopped. 'Let it rest inside you for a second. Let it sop up your juice and marinate for a while. I don't want to come too soon. This is too good, Patsy. I'll wiggle it a little so your hole will know what to expect once we really start screwing!'
"I could feel him moving his prick way up in my tummy practically. 'When you do that it feels like it's all the way to-to my heart!'
"'That's 'cause it loves your cunt, Patsy. Tighten your pussy a little, too ... for exercise and so my cock knows you want it bad. That's it ... clench harder, harder . ... '
"Uncle Jeff began fondling my clitoris with his finger then as he fucked me harder and harder. I ran my own finger about the perimeter of my chasm at the same time, marveling that my hole was stretched very nearly to the bursting point, like a rubber band, doubled and redoubled and very tight about the base of his hunk of penetrating gristle. He was holding my buttocks in his hands once again and started fucking me in a rocking motion, feeding me mighty thrusts that drove all the way to the core of me and taking long backstrokes. Breath-gasps came from my throat as our pelvises clashed. Yes, Uncle Jeff was fucking my virgin cunt then, cramming his ramrod in as far as it would go. 'Fuck me always, Uncle Jeff,' I cried. 'Fuck my pussy tomorrow and the next day and the next ... I only want your cock inside me ... just yours ... yours ... yours...."
"I don't know how long he'd been fucking me, but I remember the delicious feeling beginning and spreading through my whole body until I was coming, coming, coming even better than with his tongue before. He had waited obviously for me to begin my climax before permitting himself to spurt, because I remember him shouting that he was coming, too, just as I went totally satiated and limp. It was so beautiful-the most wonderful feeling I'd ever experienced outside of dancing.
"Uncle Jeff was what you could call a proper uncle because when we had fully rested he gave me a long lecture on not being too promiscuous and told me that we would never do this again 'for our own good.' He said he had fulfilled his obligation to the lady who had 'broken him in at a young age.' He meant it, too, because although we saw each other in the presence of my mother many times after that there was never the slightest hint of sexual interest on his part.
"I bless him for his consideration in indoctrinating me, for you see the experience was in no way traumatic for me. True, I do still have a preference for sexual intercourse with myself on top of my partners. I suppose that's because of my delicious memory of that first afternoon on the rug when I sat on top of Uncle Jeff and rode him prior to our first sex session. Today I am a professional dancer and have a full and rich sex life with many satisfied males."
In the case of Patricia, who at the time of this interview was twenty-three, one might be tempted to conclude that her incestuous relationship with her uncle (at the age of twelve) was not in any way harmful. However the scars of incest are often well hidden, particularly by highly intelligent and sensitive victims such as Patricia. Her fondness for the dominant and aggressive position during intercourse is significant when we remember that she is accustomed to literally "being on top" in her chosen profession-dancing. In fact, she was considered a genius at this endeavor. Add to this seemingly casual statement the fact that she grew up in a home lacking a male parental figure and that she is now obviously promiscuous without a goal of marriage or parenthood, and all does not seem as rosy as she would have us believe.
Patricia is a most aggressive and self-sufficient young lady. So long as she is young, successful and able to dominate her male partners (seduce them as she actually did her uncle) she may display a healthy mask of happiness and contentment to the world. Her pattern suggests, however, that with the advance of time-the loss of her productive years as a dancer-she may be afflicted with a sense of emptiness and extreme loneliness. In short, she must modify a personality overlade with self-will.
CHAPTER THREE
Three for the Sack
"My parents were quite wealthy when I was born and I was never denied anything during my childhood. Then, when I was eleven, my father was killed while flying his private plane to Palm Springs. I adored my daddy, so this left an enormous emotional emptiness in my life. Mother was left a very rich woman, however, and our way of life, the affluence, the parties, the snobbery, and the leisurely way of life went on as before.
"After an appropriate period of mourning my mother began dating men, usually younger than herself, and there was a great deal of drinking and promiscuity. Unbeknownst to my mother, I witnessed her being physically intimate with many men. I was very snoopy and was able-particularly after many of her dates and she had been drinking heavily-to observe the most basic and animalistic sexual behavior imaginable. I had mixed feelings about what I saw. At the same time I felt disgusted and highly aroused. Sometimes I would even masturbate as I stood outside my mother's bedroom window or peered from the shadow of the hallway into the living room while mother and her male friends copulated or indulged in sex acts-licking each other's genitals and so forth-I had never believed really happened between civilized men and women.
"You might say my mother provided me with a rather unusual sexual education at an early age. I learned a number of other things, too, many of them from my mother's own lips. I learned that a wealthy widow attracts many desirable men of all ages and that many of them are after more than just sex. They want her money-a soft and comfortable life without working for a living. Therefore, it puzzled me when mother married Rex, dark and handsome though he was, because he was obviously a fortune hunter. Rex was nearly ten years younger than my mother-he was thirty-three and mother was forty-two. Within a matter of months following their marriage it was common knowledge among our close friends that Rex was having affairs with other women.
"I was fourteen about this time and, to complicate matters, Rex had begun to show more than a step fatherly interest in me. He would make remarks in secret to me and always find ways to touch me in ways (and places) that were more than just lecherous. Although I didn't tell mother of Rex's advances, I did manage to discuss Rex with her one day when we were lunching at the country club alone.
"'Mother,' I said directly, 'why do you put up with Rex playing around with other women? Don't you realize it makes you-us-look foolish?' Mother and I had always been very outspoken with each other.
"'Laura, dear,' she replied, sipping her martini, 'when you are older perhaps you will understand these things. I am perfectly aware of your stepfather's comings and goings with other women. I do not approve of them but I tolerate them. In time, I hope his wandering inclinations will cease. In the meantime, I love him and will put up with it at any cost. I assure you I knew the risks when I married him."
"I sort of understood mother, because Rex was charming, fascinating and the most masculine thing on two feet. I admired his attentions to me more than I was willing to admit, and I loved to watch him swim in our pool, play golf, or even just walk about in his confident, almost arrogant manner. I understood why mother wanted him, but I didn't understand why she had married him. The truth was, however, that she was willing to pay whatever price necessary just to receive whatever crumbs of attention he would toss her way. I didn't realize the extent of the price she was willing to pay, though, until about three weeks before Christmas. The price turned out to be me, her own daughter, and I was horrified! It seems I was to be, without even being consulted, a sexual Christmas present to the insatiable Rex, my horny stepfather who, by now, had become a kind of stud man in society circles.
"It was my inclination to snoop that enabled me to overhear the details of the deal between mother and Rex. In a way, I wish with all my heart that I hadn't overheard what I did. It was several weeks before Christmas, as I said, and already we had our tree with most of the presents beneath it. Mother and Rex had been out for cocktails and dinner and had returned home in a semi-drunken, argumentative mood. I could hear them all the way from my room, but I rose and tiptoed downstairs and listened from the hallway. I got an 'earful' as they say.
"It seems that Rex had talked my mother out of nearly seventy-five thousand dollars shortly after their marriage and invested it in a speculative real estate deal that had tripled his money. Now, with the money safely in his own name, he was threatening to leave my mother for another woman. My mother was nearly hysterical, pleading with him not to leave her. It was pathetic to hear her begging and telling Rex that she would do 'anything, absolutely anything' for him if he would stay. She said, 'You're my life, my everything, I adore you! Ask anything and I'll give it to you if it's humanly possible. Oh, Rex-please don't leave me ... please. ... ' She went on that way for some time before Rex-very coolly-said, 'Did you say anything, Muriel? Absolutely anything?'
"I peeked around the corner to see my mother fling herself at his feet and sob, 'Yes, darling ... oh, yes!'
"'Very well,' Rex said calmly. 'I will stay if you will give me two things for Christmas. First, in addition to my regular allowance, I want another fifty thousand dollars. You can't imagine how I feel having people think I'm a kept man. The extra money will enable me to-well, sort of feel independent and spend more freely. I love you, Muriel, despite what you might think. I really do. The extra money will go, in part at least, for presents for you-things like that-and I can take you places and feel I'm my own man."
"My mother seemed deliriously happy at this proposal for some insane reason-that's how hung up she was on this 'charmer'-and she showered him with kisses and hugs as though it were a privilege to hand over fifty thousand dollars. I had to cringe, embarrassed for her. And then came part two of Rex's request!
"Rex began the second phase of his request with all the skill of the trained salesman-incidentally, he had sold Rolls Royce automobiles prior to marrying mother. 'Muriel, it is very important that you consider your answer very carefully before you say, yes or no. What I'm going to ask may shock you, but you must remember that I am a gentle and considerate sex partner and I have always been kind and satisfying in this area of our lives, correct?'
"Mother was still kissing his hand like some kind of slave, and I suppose she thought the worst of Rex's two-part request was over. 'Oh, yes, my darling,' she cooed, her speech slightly slurred from too much alcohol. 'You're all the great lovers combined in one package. You're-you're a tender savage in bed.' She growled for emphasis. Rex shook her slightly and held her head so that he was staring directly into her bleary eyes. 'Good,' he said, 'then listen to me very carefully and consider what I say. I mean, all the consequences of your answer. Remember that I have money of my own now. The extra fifty thousand would be very nice, but it isn't necessary. If we are to remain together as man and wife you must meet my second request. No hedging later, and no changing your mind. Is that clear?' My mother said that she would agree to whatever it was he asked-anything.
"And then, just as calmly and casually as you can imagine, Rex said, 'I want Laura. I want your daughter, Laura, for a Christmas present."
"Mother looked as though she had been struck with a baseball bat. Rex's words seemed to sober her suddenly. She stood up and said, 'You bastard! You'd like to stick that big prick of yours into my virgin fourteen-year-old daughter, wouldn't you? How can you ask such a thing? Get out!' She picked up a heavy cigarette lighter as if to hurl it at him, then restrained herself. 'Get out of this house this instant and don't ever speak to me again! '
"Rex still smiled a smile that wasn't really a smile. 'Very well, dear. I wish you luck. It's been fun. Don't try to tell anyone of my proposal or I'll merely turn the story around and say you offered Laura to me to stay. Understand? Good-bye, my dear. I'll be back to get my things in a day or so."
"Mother let him reach the door, and then, to my horror, she ran to him and threw herself once again at his feet. 'Rex, darling, please! You don't realize what you're asking. Laura's just-just a baby. You can't mean it. You can't. Anything else. Anything!'
"Rex merely laughed. 'A baby? Laura? Have you looked closely at your baby lately? My God, she's as sexy as they come. If I don't fuck her, somebody's going to get into her pants pretty damned soon-you can be sure of that! Maybe you'd rather have the gardener or some pimply faced, long-haired hippie getting her pregnant. Is that what you want? At least you know I'm considerate and can't have any kids, right?'
"My mother was sobbing. 'Yes ... yes ... you're right,' Mother was saying. 'I suppose there is some-some truth in what you say. But-but why do you have to have-her? '
"'You're a woman, Muriel. You wouldn't understand? That's just the way it is. You know I won't rape her, either.' And then, like a salesman closing the deal, Rex said: 'Also, I won't touch any other woman again. I promise. All right?'
"Mother stood up again and held Rex close to her desperately. It was sickening to watch anybody so totally enslaved. 'Just once?' Mother asked. 'I mean, you wouldn't go on having an affair with her indefinitely, would you?'
"'I won't promise anything on that score,' Rex said. 'That'll be up to Laura and me. We'll just have to play it by ear."
"Mother pressed herself close to Rex and he stroked the length of her back lovingly and kissed her neck. 'I think you'll be pleased with the way things work out,' he said. 'Trust me, Muriel. Just trust me. I'll never ask for another Christmas present again."
"Mother sighed, said, 'All right,' and Rex picked her up and carried her toward their bedroom. Before they caught me, I ran upstairs to my room and climbed into bed. I lay there, hating my mother, deeply shocked that my mother could make such an agreement. Then came the realization that within a matter of weeks Rex was to make love to me-a virgin. How would I respond? What if I turned him down? What would it be like? When and how would he make his move? As my mind considered the possibilities, the inevitabilities, I began to panic and seriously considered running away, but then, slowly, I found myself actually looking forward to Rex's attentions. He had said that he could not have children, so I wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant. And I had to admit that I was attracted to him. Most important, he had implied that I was sexy, desirable, and he had been willing to give up fifty thousand dollars for me! Good God! Fifty thousand dollars! I didn't know if that made me a high-priced whore, or what, but I knew this handsome gigolo of a man wanted me pretty badly if he was willing to give up that kind of money.
"Call me sick or whatever you want, but after an hour or so of thinking I was actually flattered at Rex's interest in me. This would be no common deflowering, to be sure, and I had the advantage of knowing exactly what Rex's intentions were. In a way, I was in for an exciting game, with my opponent not even knowing I knew his objective! By the time I became drowsy enough to sleep I was actually thrilled at what lay ahead of me. That night I dreamed of rhinoceros horns and antlers, and I actually dreamed that Rex loved me and took me in his arms and fucked me....
"Several changes took place in my behavior almost immediately. I began to swing my hips quite a lot in Rex's presence and I tried to find ways to let him glimpse my breasts. When I wore blouses that buttoned up the front, for instance, I frequently left quite a few buttons unfastened at the top and, even though it was winter, I went swimming in our heated pool so Rex could see me in my bikini. To my complete surprise, Rex seemed to ignore me almost entirely. I began to wonder if I'd dreamed the whole conversation between mother and my handsome stepfather.
"It was nearly a week later that I realized what Rex, the strategist had been doing. First, he must have been putting mother at ease by not making an immediate attack, and second, by ignoring me he rightly reasoned that I would appreciate any display of even common courtesy on his part once he began to make his move. And when he made his move it was a good one!
"One afternoon, while I was swimming when mother was out playing bridge with her girl friends, Rex appeared suddenly at poolside wearing very tight trunks that revealed his muscled body and his bulging genitals at his crotch. He dived in quickly, and then, under the guise of improving my swimming stroke, handled my body as he showed me the proper arm and leg motions. He didn't actually touch my breasts or vagina, but he knew just where to touch so that his fingers excited me-under my knees, my armpits, the small of my back, and my neck. Several times, very discreetly, he allowed his crotch to brush against my leg, too, and this excited me.
"After we'd returned from our showers and were sitting in the den, he wore only a towel about his waist-I was fully dressed-and let me catch occasional glimpses of his furry testicles and lengthy cock.
"Ordinarily, I don't think seeing his organ would have stimulated me, but knowing what he planned somehow changed all my reactions. I had actually become eager for him to make some kind of overt move. He offered me a drink then-something mother did not permit-and promised he wouldn't tell, so I accepted. After two gins with 7-Up, we were laughing and sharing all sorts of semisecret past stories together. For a long time, I remember his towel did not cover his genitals at all and I had a perfect view of the genitals that were to take my virginity between now and Christmas. I reciprocated, too, and purposely let my legs part in order to entice him with a view of my crotch.
"Pretty soon he turned on the music and we danced barefoot to the tango. I felt then for the first time his hard erection against my stomach, but still he didn't make any direct passes. Only when the music paused and we bent very low and I leaned back nearly to the floor did his member touch my vagina directly. Finally, Rex did kiss me about the eyes and neck and cheeks, but it was a semi fatherly gesture, despite his hard on. Frankly, knowing the arrangement concerning me, I had drunk enough gin so that I would probably have yielded to his advances that afternoon if he had pressed matters. Certainly my heart was beating fast enough and my vagina was slippery enough to accommodate even a prick the size of his, but he seemed content to bide his time. I respected him for this somehow, and, besides, he was marvelous at making a woman feel feminine and beautiful. He kept complimenting me on my bearing, poise, beauty. He told me he was proud to be seen with me but that, alas, he was already married and could not tell me far more.
"I actually began to believe him, and after two more gins and 7-Up, when he cried softly on my shoulder and asked me to pity a man who was in love with two women-my mother and myself-I cradled his head lovingly on my shoulder and finally on my breasts. 'Tonight,' he said, finally, his voice high and anguished, 'I am coming to you after all the lights are out. Don't misunderstand, Laura. I am married to your mother, but I must be next to you for just a while.' He was speaking and breathing directly into my ear and I found myself saying that I understood and would expect him.
"The drinks had completely caught me off guard. I had expected to put up some kind of obstacle and here I was staring at his prick, which had risen to make a kind of tent of his towel on his lap, and agreeing to let him come to my bedroom. I suppose it was the knowledge that my mother had agreed to such a thing that made me such a willing target. And then, as he boldly raised my sweater and unclasped my bra to inspect my well-developed breasts, I knew why women yielded so willingly to this most capable seducer. 'What delicious, ripe breasts for a fourteen-year-old!' he exclaimed. And then he kissed and fondled my nipples with such tenderness I lay with my head tossing from side to side. Ever so gently, he mouthed and kissed every inch of my mammaries as he murmured tributes to my beauty, my 'exquisite body.' Before I realized what had happened, my panties were on the floor and Rex's hand was slipping skillfully and persuasively about the inner folds of. my dripping pussy and manipulating my clitoris. Except for one time before, when a very athletic girl friend-an acquaintance, really-had briefly massaged my breasts last year and stroked my clitoris for a few seconds before I asked her to stop, this was the first time any hand besides my own had touched my genitals. I began moaning and saying, 'Rex, Rex, Rex ... ohhhhh,' over and over again, when master that he was, he stopped and placed my hand on his hot hard on.
"'My male organ yearns for you, Laura,' he whispered. 'See how it drips and stands so tall and eager for you to touch it?' Rex sounded like a very poor actor overacting in some movie from the thirties, I suppose, but to me at that instant he sounded like the most sincere lover in the world. I gladly gripped his thick, hard staff in my hand and followed his instructions as he showed me how to slide up and down its rigidity. My legs were very wide apart now and I was yearning for his touch once again on my cunt, but he worked only on my nipples and continued whispering hypnotically in my ear. 'You are not ready to come yet, my love. I will tell you when and what to do. Trust me. First, I want you to bend down and kiss the head of my cock. Kiss it and then lick it with your tongue. Do as I say, and then I will lick your clitoris before I fuck you and take you to the heights. Do you hear me?'
"'I-I've never done anything like this with a boy before,' I panted. I wanted to do what he commanded, but somehow I felt he might not respect me anymore if I did. It sounds crazy, I know, but he had told me how wonderful I was and it just didn't seem appropriate for me to suck his cock even though he wanted me to. 'Very well,' he said gently. 'I understand. Maybe it's better if I come to you.' He got up then and went to the bar. When he returned I saw that he held a bottle in his hand. 'Creme de menthe,' he said. And then he poured it on his stomach so that it dripped onto his prick. He manipulated the liquid into his hard on standing out like a poised viper, then poured the green liquid onto my pubic mound and worked it into my slit. 'It's delicious,' he said, 'especially when you lick it from a prick or a cunt."
"I had never dreamed that I would find the sight of a man's cock and balls near my face beautiful, but Rex's stiff rod and balls-sticky from the liqueur-were like Greek sculpture as he straddled my hips with his knees and held his genitals to my lips. His hand was at the back of my neck then, tugging my head forward as he parted my lips and placed the head of his cock in my mouth. 'Lick the liqueur from my cock, Laura,' he coaxed with his persuasive, low voice. I did, and he went on talking and telling me how my tongue felt like a million feathers tickling his soul. Pretty soon, his entire cock-at least as much as I could take-was thrusting slowly in and out of my mouth and I was loving every smooth stroke of it! I gripped its base and held his testicles, and licked them too, and I nibbled and sucked and lapped like a starving beast as he kept stabbing at my clitoris with his finger. And then I was coming with his prick still in my mouth! I was coming ... coming ... seeing stars and whimpering and writhing and shoving my cunt harder to meet his finger! Oh, Rex was a devil. He knew everything about a woman! I had never dreamed of allowing a man to come inside my mouth and if I had had any idea of how much sperm a man spurts out I would have been frightened, but as I came and he did too with his prick jerking violently against the back of my throat the fluid that streamed into my lips and even ran down my chin seemed as though it belonged in there and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for me to drink it down-yes, gulp every drop of it down and swallow it while I came and he kept saying, 'Yes, drink, Laura ... drink while you come, my little lovely beauty....' "It was over then and I had never felt so sexually satisfied in my life. His finger had sent me to paradise and drinking down his come at the same time with that minty flavor of the liqueur had played some awful magic on my judgment. I didn't care. Rex kept his big prick in my mouth-just as though he were still fucking me right in the face-for a long time after he'd come. And I gently continued squeezing it between my tongue and the upper part of my mouth as he watched. I glanced up at him for approval and he was smiling benevolently down at me and palming my cheek. I could tell he liked the sight of his prick between my lips and, strangely, I wanted to give him the pleasure of watching his swollen prick in my virgin mouth.
"Later, as we sat side by side on the couch, he said, 'I've changed my mind about coming to your room tonight. You come to your mother's and my bedroom at ten. Tonight is initiation night, and I promise you'll be fucked royally. As a virgin you deserve the best."
"I was dying to fuck Rex by now. After this experience on the couch with him I knew I had lots to learn and I wanted to learn it from him and nobody else! But the thought of letting him fuck me in front of Mother was unthinkable! 'But, Rex,' I said. "What about Mother? Shouldn't we be, well, be alone?' Rex merely smiled as he returned the bottle of creme de menthe to the bar, his naked body moving like a stalking, graceful beast as he walked. 'Don't worry about your mother,' he said, winking. 'Just leave everything to me. Trust me."
"And I did trust him. Any man who could make me do what I'd just done and love every second of it had to be the lover to end all lovers. I went over to him and kissed him, letting my tongue slide between his lips. I even dropped my hand to grope his marvelous testicles as we embraced. 'Ten?' I repeated. 'I do trust you, Rex. I'll be there promptly at ten.' And I was only fourteen!"
In this case history we see glimpses of that old myth of the super lover-Don Juan, Casanovaonce again. Such erotic supermen have been analyzed and reanalyzed by experts for years, with conflicting conclusions the result. Many researchers have even labeled such men as impotent, narcissistic, or potentially homosexual. Whatever the truth concerning Don Juan, Casanova, and the like, there is strong evidence that some men do exert an unusual degree of influence over women in sexual matters. Obviously, a handsome charming man, for instance, will fare better in seduction than one who is repulsive physically and lacks the basic rudiments of courtesy.
Laura's stepfather, Rex, is obviously a man who possesses certain skills in handling women. Laura's mother's conversations with him, as reported by Laura, and his track record with other women will readily testify to this. No amount of charm, looks, and know-how, however, will enable certain women to yield themselves in the way Laura did to any man under certain conditions. The significant factor here is that Laura was thoroughly primed for what was to take place. First, she is acting with full knowledge of parental approval-her mother's. Second, the home lacks a father figure and she is certainly physically and psychologically ready for sexual indoctrination. Add to these facts her knowledge that she cannot become impregnated by Rex and the promiscuous sexual activity she has been exposed to about the household since her father's death, and it can be stated without qualification that Laura was ripe for the plucking by any presentable male.
Certain problems loom, though, as we shall learn in the balance of Laura's testimony. Many girls in contemporary society lose their virginity by the age of fourteen, but not many are exposed to the group sex scene which follows in the case on hand. Turning Laura sexually on, so to speak, is one thing. Turning her off may prove to be quite another matter! Unfortunately, the reader is about to witness the forming of a classic nymphomaniac. By "nymphomania," of course, we do not mean a disorder characterized by women who indulge in excessive sexual activity because of the pleasure they derive. Quite the opposite is true. The so-called nymphomaniac indulges in an overabundance of sexual activity as a means of obtaining the orgasm she seldom, if ever, obtains. It is indeed tragic and ironic that the nymphomaniac is able to achieve her goal of frequent orgasm only at certain intervals of her life and only under certain childlike circumstances. Thus, just as she thinks she has found the "magic penis," orgasms suddenly disappear for her. She may then try other "game-like" situations, such as troilism (group sex), in an effort to experience her infrequent orgasm. As we shall see, Laura's first experiences with her stepfather are highly satisfactory from her point of view. We must remember, however, that she is in effect playing a kind of game, playing her part in an agreement between her mother and stepfather. As the game aspect of her relationship begins to fade and a more serious, enduring relationship seems possible her sexual response undergoes a serious change. Even sex involving more than a single partner proves insufficient stimulation to provide her with the orgasms she first experienced.
Laura is only fourteen, but a recognizable and tragic pattern is already being set. In the popular book Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex But Were Afraid to Ask, Dr. David Reuben states the problem quite clearly:
Often sex is acceptable to the so-called nymphomaniac as long as it's a game. When it becomes apparent that a full-fledged relationship at an adult level is about to develop, they want out. As long as sex is just a sophisticated hobby, they tend to do fine, but when it comes time to take on the role of a mature woman, they aren't up to it, and the genitals, under the influence of the brain, promptly resign.
Dr. Reuben cites a typical example of a conversation between such a woman and her doctor:
"Doctor, I'm worried-I'm twenty-eight now and I'm still frigid. Oh, I keep up a good front. I don't act as depressed as I feel about it. I try to be bright and gay and all that but I never really get anything out of sex."
"You mean you never have an orgasm?"
"No, that's just it. Maybe it would be easier that way. Most of the time I can't reach a climax-that's true. With him, everything comes easy-at least for a while. Whenever we sleep together, it's magnificent and I think, 'Well, you've finally found him!' Then I move into his apartment and within a week-nothing. As long as it doesn't matter-as long as there's no chance it will last, sex is perfect."
The tragic aspect of nymphomania is that, like an impotent man who can have an erection as long as there is no prospect of using it, the nymphomaniac can have an orgasm as long as there is slim chance of repeating the experience. To say the least, it is disappointing. Often, a woman with this type of orgasmic impairment believes her goal is reached. She meets an attractive male at a social function and is attracted to him. However, after several nights of comparatively normal sexual functioning, elation, something happens. The relationship has become more than merely casual and her orgasms disappear.
Frequently then, the woman begins to believe that attaining an orgasm is only a matter of finding the "magic" penis. Unaware of the real nature of her problem (mental) she goes from man to man seeking satisfaction. She is the victim of neurosis and begins to fake orgasms and men believe they are giving her what she craves. She does not lead an exciting or glamorous life. Actually, she would trade a couple of good orgasms a week with a man she loves for anything! Of course, no woman likes to admit that her true reason for promiscuity is her lack of sexual satisfaction. It's far easier to play the role of insatiable and sex happy. It has been correctly said that probably the best acting in this world does not take place in movies or the stage but in motel rooms, for despite all the ecstatic panting and shrieking, the clutching and moaning, the nymphomaniac is really saying: "This isn't what I'm really feeling; this is what I want to feel! "
It is generally known that orgasm among nymphomaniacs is as infrequent as it is among prostitutes. Ironically, nymphomaniacs often become prostitutes in search of the "magic" penis which will bring them gratification. But both prostitutes and nymphomaniacs know how to fake orgasm. The nymphomaniac needs a reputation for "being a good lay" to assure her a steady supply of men in her desperate quest for gratification.
In Laura's case, we will see the beginning of this pattern. At the close of her story the prognosis is not good for her future sexual happiness. However, if she is able to recognize the "game" aspect of her sex with her stepfather, Rex, and seek a mature (not just an older) sex partner, orgasms may once again become the rule rather than the exception for her.
"That night I retired early-about nine-thirty. I kissed mother good-night, went upstairs to my room and undressed. I lay then in just my panties and bra with the covers pulled up beneath my chin in the darkness, staring at the luminous face of the clock on my dresser. I was both excited and full of fear. The idea of appearing in my mother's bedroom half-naked and making love with her husband in her presence seemed incomprehensible to me. I couldn't see how Rex could bring off whatever he had in mind, despite my mother's addiction to him. Did he actually plan to fuck me right before her, or what? He had said I should trust him, but the more I thought about it the more reluctant I became. The clock finally read ten, then ten-fifteen, but I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed! Watching my mother have sex with other men had been one thing; hearing her agree to let Rex fuck me was even remotely understandable. But the three of us in one room that way seemed more than I could bear! Along with these fears, too, there kept recurring the delicious memory of that afternoon-sucking Rex's cock and his making me come with his mouth.
"It was about ten-twenty when my door opened and a figure drew close to my bed. It was Rex and he was stark-naked! 'Laura, are you awake?'
"I propped myself up on one elbow as he sat beside me. 'Yes, I-I guess I chickened out,' I said.
"He gave me a long french kiss and squeezed my breasts softly. 'Don't be silly,' he said. 'I told you to trust me, didn't I? Your mother's all prepared. Everything's all right. Follow me."
"Reluctantly, I let Rex lead me by the hand downstairs to the master bedroom. I paused in the doorway, stunned. The room was bathed in a soft red light (a red bulb had been placed in one of the nightstand lamps) and my mother lay nude and panting in the center of the huge bed. I could make out cords leading from the wall and two vibrators beside her. 'I gave her a mild aphrodisiac,' Rex said, 'and she's agreed to everything, so there's nothing to fear.' He kissed me again, his tongue filling my mouth as he unfastened my bra, then took me to the bed. Mother was moaning softly, clutching her breasts in her hands and squeezing her legs together rhythmically as though to quench some unbearable urge in her vagina.
"Rex slipped my panties off, lay down beside Mother, and pulled me to the other side of him. In the dim red light I saw that he had already attained a full erection. Although confused and stimulated at the same time, I remember thinking that I, Laura, would not be the same girl when I left this room. I would no longer be a virgin and I would have taken part in a sex orgy with my own mother! Rex began alternately playing with Mother's and my tits then. I don't know what it was he had given Mother, but she seemed completely entranced and unaware of my presence. Pretty soon Rex spread my mother's legs apart and began playing with her cunt while he sucked hard on my titties. To my surprise, when he placed my hand on his penis, my mother's hand was already there. But both of us females in this weird orgy had lost all inhibition and our hands worked like a duo of crawling serpents over his stout prick and dangling scrotum. 'I-want your prick in my mouth,' I heard my mother sighing, and then I found myself protesting, 'No, no-I want to suck it. Let me!'
"Mother didn't seem to hear my voice. 'Never mind,' Rex commanded. 'You'll both have a turn. First, just lie back, both of you, while I get you good and ready.' Rex scooted me up toward the head of the bed then so that he was able to better finger my pussy and munch on my mother's titties at the same time. Mother kept moaning, 'Ohhhh Goddddd ... I want your mouth and cock in my cunt ... please ... please ' At once, I found myself jealous of her and wished I had Rex all to myself. I wanted him working on my breasts and my pussy at the same time and the idea of sharing Rex, even with my mother, his wife, angered me. I tugged her hand from his cock and began jacking him off ferociously, but her hand would not go away and we fought over hand-space like desperate animals for the right to his organ. 'Easy, ladies, easy,' Rex said. 'There's plenty for everybody. All right, Muriel,' he ordered my mother, 'suck, girl! Suck!'
"Instantly, my mother slid down to his hips and began showering Rex's engorged rod with frantic kisses. Then she had his prick in her mouth, and her head bobbed up and down, making slurping noises as she greedily drew on the long cock. Rex was silent for a while, savoring mother's attention to his meat. Then he ordered me to squat over his face with my legs apart so that he could lick my slit while mother worked on him. I obeyed and I can't begin to describe the mixed emotions that surged through me as I sat on Rex's face with his tongue gobbling my love hole and bottom and, at the same time, watching my own mother gobbling Rex's huge hard on.
"After a while I sort of went crazy, I guess, because as Rex drained my gushing cunt with his hungry mouth I reached out and began fondling his balls and guiding his scalding cock in and out of Mother's mouth. 'Ahhhhh,' he sighed. 'That's it, girls. Now you're getting the spirit of the game. Ummmnn ... beautiful ... suck and fuck."
"Rex went on that way, using every four-letter word I'd ever heard (and some I hadn't heard) for a long time. He had his hand on Mother's pussy still and I'm sure she came once as she nursed his organ. I came at the same time she did and then I came again a few minutes later all by myself. That second time nearly sent me through the ceiling! I ground my entire crotch all over his moaning face, smearing him with my love juice, even losing contact between my clit and his tongue at times and settling for his chin and nose and cheeks. He seemed to love my antics, though, because he just kept on lapping and grunting and jiggling my hips with his palms.
"I was really spent for the moment and I guess Rex knew this, because he told me to take a breather and watch him fuck Mother. 'I want you to observe how it's done,' he said, patting me as I sprawled out breathing hard beside him. 'I'll illustrate a few different positions and you'll learn how a mature woman is supposed to respond to a hard on inside her pussy. I'll say one thing for your mother-she's one hell of a fuck! In fact, I've nicknamed her Quiver-Butt. She goes absolutely nuts when you slam it to her. Come on, Quiver Butt,' Rex said harshly. 'Mount up, old Q.B. It's time to mount up, girl! '
"Mother was still really out of it and tried to fight him as he pulled her starving mouth from his ramrod. 'No,' she protested, hanging on and whimpering. 'I-I want the come. Oh, Rex, please give mama your load. I want your come. We-we can fuck later. Let me swallow your juice first ... please ... please...."
"Rex had to pull Mother very forcefully on top of him. 'Maybe later, baby,' he promised. 'But right now we've got a newcomer who wants to see something besides just sucking. Your daughter's never seen a real fuck.' That drug Rex had given Mother must have been really powerful, because Mother said, 'Daughter? Daughter? Laura? Where?' Rex slapped her hard then, right across the cheek, and I said, 'Please, Rex, don't hurt her. She-she doesn't know what she's doing or saying.' I felt awful that Rex would treat Mother that way, but he assured me it was all right. 'Hell, she loves that rough stuff,' he said, not sounding at all like the same man who had spoken so tenderly to me that afternoon. 'She asks me to slap her sometimes. Okay, Muriel,' he said then. 'In the cock goes, baby. I want you to ride hard. You hear? I want you to put on a real show for the gallery. Ride my prick just like you're a jockey coming down the stretch! '
"Rex shoved me down behind Mother's ass then so I had a view of his prick getting ready to enter Mother's cunt. Then, tickling my clitoris once again, he said, 'Watch close, Laura. You might never get a chance to watch a real fucking up so close again.' With that, Rex began feeding his rigid pole into Mother. He had stuck only the head in when Mother began bucking and whining and came down hard over the entire prick. Then, in the dim red light, I saw what Rex meant by calling mother Quiver-Butt.
"Mother had a trim body, but her ass suddenly looked like jelly as it twitched insanely and pumped at the same time up and down on Rex's meat. Rex lifted his buttocks up high from the mattress to meet Mother's thrusts and the sound of their genitals clashing and slurping just inches from my ears was something to hear! I stared in fascination at the folds of Mother's vagina-the furry lips being forced first inward then outward-as Rex drove his prick savagely into the depths of her.
"'Fuck it, Rex. Oh, yes, yes. Fuck me, Rex. Fuck it, fuck me, fuck it, fuck it hard, harder.' Mother sounded like a record as she repeated herself over and over. It was not at all the kind of sophisticated conversation I'd heard her make with friends from the country club or while playing bridge. She had gone absolutely sex crazy. I wondered if fucking had this effect on all women. Could fucking possibly be this good? Could a male penis actually drive a woman insane? Perhaps it could, I thought, pressing my clit harder against Rex's finger as he massaged it.
"Right at that moment I wished that Rex would stop fucking Mother and fuck me. She had been fucked lots of times, but I had never been stuck with a real male prick; his hand on my pussy and their combined grunts and efforts, especially Mother's, had me dying for another orgasm-this time an orgasm with Rex's cock inside me.
"Mother was getting ready to come and she was informing Rex of this in a high-pitched scream. She was saying other things, too. Already she was talking about doing other things after she had come. I could barely believe my ears as I stared at the cock plunging harder and harder, making squishy noises, as mother ranted: 'Oh, yes, Rex. Your cock is mine, all mine. I can suck it any time I want ... can't I? Hmmm? Hmmm? Can't I? Oh, do I love to suck and fuck your prick, Rex. Oh, I LOVE TO SUCK AND FUCK AND DO EVERYTHING TO IT, DARLING!' Her voice went up and down in intensity-high, then low. 'When we've come this way, Rex, I want to suck you off all night. You'll let me, won't you, Rex? Won't you? Ohhhhhhhhh, Godddddddd. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! Ram me! RAM ME!'
"Mother was definitely ready to come I guessed, and the impact of their pelvises clashing was hurling sex lubricant all over the sheet and even hitting my face. The close-up view of all this happening, plus Rex's finger brushing my clitoris harder and harder, had me at a near fever pitch. Then, to my amazement, Rex abruptly threw Mother, from him. Frantically, she attempted to mount him again, begging him to finish her, but he said in a breathless voice, 'No, Muriel, this time you're going to have to wait awhile. You're going to wait and watch while I fuck your daughter!' The look on Mother's face, her entire body convulsing in denial and anguish, was ghastly to see. Rex's stiff prick stood straight and glistening in the dim red light and she reached out for it, trying to crawl like a person dying of thirst for water, but Rex held her back. 'Finger yourself, do anything you have to do,' Rex hissed, 'but you're going to watch me fuck your daughter before you get any more fucking from me. Do you hear?'
"Mother's whimpers and expressions were pathetic to see, but by now I was so primed and eager from watching them fuck, and from Rex's finger on my twat, that I was beyond reason. I guess I felt pity for Mother, but at that moment I wanted Rex's cock in my virgin hole more than anything. I think both Mother and I might have done anything short of murder for the right to Rex's stiff prick at that instant! I can't say for sure that Mother recognized me as her daughter then-her eyes were terrifying and out of focus-but I think she did realize that Rex was about to fuck another female. She screamed and threw herself at Rex, pleading, but Rex slapped her hard and she lay still, breathing hard, at the far side of the bed. 'You'll get your cock pretty soon,' he yelled, 'but right now you're going to watch me fuck Laura. Do you hear? I'm going to fuck your daughter, Laura, right in her virgin cunt and you're going to watch! Laura! LAURA! REMEMBER OUR BARGAIN?'
"Mother curled up then, as though resigned, and repeated my name several times. 'Yes,' she said, 'I understand ... you sonofabitch. Laura? Is that you, Laura? You don't have to do this, Laura ... you don't have to '
"Rex was already sucking at my tits and wiping the big head of his cock up and down my flowing pussy. My legs were apart and were instinctively wrapping around his slim hips. I couldn't think. I felt sorry for Mother, but the excitement and that prick forcing its way at my hole were too much to withstand. I guess I had gone just as fuck crazy as Mother. This monster-this sex demon, Rex-he had us both thinking and behaving like bitches in heat. 'I-I know, Mother,' I answered tearfully. 'I
-I don't have to ... but I-I want to. I want him to fuck me. Honest! Then-then he can do it to you, okay?'
"'Oh, my baby,' Mother said. 'My poor baby. All right. Go ahead. Be gentle with her, Rex. If-if you hurt her...."
"Rex had his big prick firmly at the entrance of my channel now and he was exerting pressure. I could hardly wait for him to get it all the way inside me. I wondered if he would almost make me come the way he'd done with Mother. I knew he couldn't impregnate me and I wanted the entire experience. I wanted him to come in my cunt just the way he'd come in my mouth before. Would I go completely out of control like my mother?
"'Don't worry about me hurting her,' Rex answered my mother, finally. 'I know what I'm doing. Why don't you use one of those vibrators you love so much on that snatch of yours while you watch? Yeah, enjoy your daughter lose her virginity and buzz one of those vibrators against your clit at the same time.' Rex reached out and took one of the vibrators himself as, to my amazement, Mother's vibrator hummed to a start and I saw her thrust the instrument between her legs. 'I want this to be good for you, Laura,' Rex panted in my ear, his voice soothing again, not angry sounding the way it had been with Mother. 'I'll flick this vibrator on at the right time and use it on your ass. You're a very lucky girl to have an expert break you in. You're going to get all the trimmings, baby. Now I want to get my cock in you. It's hell pulling out of a hot snatch-even your mother's cold turkey and not getting back in quick where it's nice' and warm again. Forget about your mother. Pretend she's not even here. She's so doped up she doesn't really know what's going on, anyway, believe me. I want you just to relax and enjoy this fuck."
"The pressure of Rex's stiff cock in my hole was really beginning to hurt suddenly. He was pushing harder and harder, and it was really beginning to hurt-bad. Looking back, I guess I must have had an extra thick hymen or something because my membrane, blocking Rex's complete entrance into my cunt, wouldn't seem to give way. Against my will, I placed my hands on his stomach to ease his shoving. 'Ouch!' I cried, embarrassed. 'It-it sort of hurts, Rex. I'm sorry, it really does hurt. But I really do want it inside me. I can hardly wait to see how it feels. Can you shove it all the way in fast? Maybe then the hurt will go away. Oh, hurry and fuck my pussy!'
"It's funny that it hurt that way, because I was really wet from my two orgasms, but it did. I knew it must be hell waiting to get his rod inside. I sort of pitied him.
"'Okay, Laura,' he said then, 'I'm going to shove hard now, so get ready."
"Instead of just lying there, I reached down and took his hard on at the base and shoved hard down on it. I nearly screamed, the pain was so intense, but then his cock was nearly all the way in my unfucked and very tight hole.
"'Ahhhhhh,' Rex sighed as his meat lodged within the warmth of my body. 'You shouldn't have done that, Laura. I hope it didn't hurt too bad. But, oh, that beautiful, tight cunt. What a clenching pussy you've got. It's like a slick glove. We'll do this together lots of times and eventually you'll loosen up a little. Meanwhile, I got myself the tightest little snatch in the world to fuck ... oh, yeah...."
"Rex's prick was all the way in me now and I began experiencing the strangest combination of pleasure and pain I'd ever known. I guess losing virginity isn't the same for all girls, but I remember it as being intensely painful for just a short time, then the pain ending abruptly and gradually being overcome by pleasure. In a minute or so, Rex was sticking me pretty hard and I was even able to raise my butt, as Mother had done, to meet him. I moved and wagged my bottom from side to side slightly, too, in an effort to feel and experience every dimension of his tool inside the dark recesses of me, just as I had when sucking him off.
"Rex raised himself up high on his arms several times to gaze down at his organ plunging into my slit and muttered things about the tightness and newness of my cunt. The fact that I was a virgin seemed to excite him more than anything else. 'I'm the first one,' he babbled. 'The first cock to stick that tight little prize of yours, Laura. Never forget who plugged that pussy of yours first. You hear? You'll never be able to forget who got you first, will you? Hell, no. Rex nailed you first, and don't you ever forget it. Goddam, that feels good!'
"He shifted his weight to the side slightly now as we fucked, grasped my ass hard in one hand, and began rubbing my clit at the same time. By now he was really fucking hard-as hard as he'd fucked Mother-and I was taking in like a veteran every inch of what he had to give me. Then he turned on the vibrator and sort of wedged it in my ass. The tingling sensation against my rear hole, plus the fullness of his cock in my cunt and his finger against my clit, had me seeing stars and pulling on his back and neck and ass and begging him to spear me with all his might.
"'Oh, my baby, my baby,' I heard my mother crying. 'My little Laura. What have I done?'
"I'm surprised I even heard Mother, who was still pumping her own vagina at the other humming vibrator. She seemed remorseful, but at the same time filled with lust and anxious to reach her own orgasm as she watched Rex fucking me. Her voice came to me as though it were unreal, because I was nearly overcome with the new and fantastic sensations that were spreading throughout my entire body-sensations I hadn't dreamed possible for a prick to inflict on a female.
"'Rex! Rex!' I began wailing, drowning Mother out, calling out much louder than I meant to, hearing only the guttural gasps of Rex as he spurred me on with his talk of 'fucking, stabbing, reaming, shoving,' and words like that. My voice rose still higher, shrill and piercing, and suddenly I knew I was yelling for Mother's benefit. I wanted her to hear me! I wanted her and everyone in the world to know I was getting fucked, that Rex's big prick was mine and not my mother's. Yes, at that moment I wanted my mother to envy me. I wanted to torture her and let her know that I had taken Rex away from her and that he liked my young, tight cunt better than hers. It's awful, but that's what I felt as Rex slammed his meat into me and waves of surging relief and blessed ecstasy wracked my body from my head to my toes.
"Finally, the feeling rose to such intensity that I knew it had to end. With each powerful stroke of Rex's unrelenting cock I was becoming more and more of a blithering idiot. It was as though I would die of pleasure if it didn't stop. 'I'm coming now,' I squealed. 'Rex, I'm coming now ... all over. My bottom, my cunt, my clit, shoulders, legs, everywhere. I-I can't stand it anymore ... ohhhhhhhhh...."
"Mother began emitting an eerie scream then, too, apparently reaching the heights at the same time, and her cry added to my own frenzied climax. I thought Rex had been driving with all the force he could muster, but I guess I was wrong because he began stabbing me so savagely I thought I would go through the mattress or fall from the bed. "Virgin snatch, virgin pussy,' he raved as he obviously began coming himself. And then he yelled, 'Here it comes, Laura! Take your first load, baby. All of it ... all ... all ... fuckin' your little daughter, Muriel ... shooting inside her ... she's mine ... mine ... always mine ... ahhhhh...."
"We both lay there twitching and spasming, and then resting. I don't know how much time passed, but finally Rex lay on his back and I curled up and watched him smoke a cigarette. I felt very guilty all of a sudden. Mother had fallen asleep and, without saying anything to either her or Rex, I got up and went upstairs to my own bed.
"Rex and I fucked maybe ten times after that, always when Mother was out. I tried to talk to Mother about the situation several times, but she changed the subject and said that she was taking 'action' to change matters. I had no idea what she meant. Oddly, after fucking Rex the first four or five times I ceased having orgasms with him. I could not erase the memory of the way he'd treated Mother that night and, try as I might, I just could not come with him anymore. Desperate, and thinking maybe something was the matter with me, I became quite promiscuous with boys at school, but, while I was able to reach orgasms with them at first, each relationship ended up the way it had with Rex. Pretty soon I couldn't come, so I would look for somebody else.
"Oh, yes. Another thing. Mother divorced Rex about two months after our threesome session. She has never stopped apologizing about that night, but actually it isn't necessary. I understood perfectly. Rex was obviously a complete bastard. Incidentally, he didn't get the extra fifty thousand dollars Mother had promised him and the last we heard he had married some tramp who had conned him out of most of the seventy-five thousand he had gotten from Mother in the beginning.
"That's about all, I guess. I'm twenty-four now and I've tried just about everything in order to establish any consistent kind of orgasm pattern. I've tried sex with men from every walk of life, orgies, you name it and I've done it. I've become an expert at 'faking orgasms' to make men happy, but I seem to be a loser in the sex department. My psychoanalyst keeps telling me I have to find a man I can really look up to and respect-that kind of thing
-before I'll ever really know normal sexual response again."
As previously stated, Laura's sexual pattern as that of a nymphomaniac had become fairly clear by the time she found herself unable to reach an orgasm early in her relationship with her stepfather. When, having turned to boys her own age from school, she found the same problem-orgasms at first with each, then no sexual satisfaction until she had found a new partner, ad infinitum-and the die was cast. The endless game of "musical beds" and group sex experimentation began and, of course, failed to yield the desired results.
It is indeed tragic that Laura was exposed to such a traumatic home environment at an early age. A "normal," intelligent, and sensitive girl as Laura is, she might never have had to face the problem she now faces had she not been the victim of an amoral, insensitive stepfather and a weak and selfish mother. At least, at twenty-four, she is fortunate enough to have the good sense and the means to seek psychiatric help. On the basis of this, her chances at least for partial recovery are good.
CHAPTER FOUR
Bonds of Love
"My need to be taken by force in the sex act-tied up and all that-goes back to when I was seventeen. I could use my age then as an excuse, but I guess that would just be copping out. The truth is, if I'd had any idea that going out 'creeping' with Bill that night would lead to robbery and rape and my present sex hang-up I'd have started running and never stopped. But you can't change the past and so here I am-still fouled up sexually and sitting here and telling you about it. I'm twenty-two and I've never been in trouble with the law, thank God, but that's just because I was a lucky teenager. And I was also careful.
"'Creeping,' as Bill called it, meant going out and finding some big house at night, breaking in, and creeping around quietly until you found something valuable to steal. I don't think Rex had ever been in trouble with the law at that time-he was twenty-one-but he was a different guy from the one I'd known before he went over to Vietnam. Everything about him was changed when he got back from overseas. He wore his hair a lot longer, didn't seem to care about the future or holding down a job, and he smoked a lot of marijuana. I'd never smoked grass before, although quite a few of my friends did. I didn't have anything against marijuana. It just didn't appeal to me.
"As I said, Bill had changed a lot. Not only did he smoke a lot of grass and take pills, but his attitude toward me had changed noticeably. Before we'd been just good friends ... like brother and sister. We'd both had sex with others, so neither of us was a virgin, but the subject had just never come up between us. That may sound weird, but that's the way it was. When he was discharged from the army, however, everything changed and he began making passes at me and using language he hadn't used before-words like 'fuck' and 'prick' and 'cunt' and all that. Still, he didn't insist that we make love and I maintained a sort of sisterly interest in him. If he'd really pushed hard enough I suppose I would have let him screw me. I don't know. I wasn't really the horny type at the time and, besides, I just didn't think of Rex as a bed partner.
"The crucial night was when we'd been out to the movies and I smoked grass for the first time with him. We were sitting in the parking lot of the movie house. Bill was drinking beer, too. 'Hey, Donna,' he said suddenly. 'Look, there's practically no moon at all out. It's a perfect night for creeping. Let's do it!'
"When I asked him what he meant by creeping, he explained that it was breaking into somebody's house or apartment and stealing things. I remembered being shocked. I was pretty high on the grass we'd been smoking, though, and for some weird reason the idea vaguely appealed to me. My mother and stepfather were always fighting around our house, and the idea of getting home before two or so in the morning and listening to another one of their drunken brawls didn't appeal to me. I said that I was scared of getting caught by the police and getting thrown in jail, but Bill just laughed.
"'Don't be silly,' he assured me. 'First, you find a place where all the lights are out so you know everybody's asleep or out of town. Even then you don't break in unless it's real easy. I've done it four or five times with friends of mine lately and it's a ball. Honest! Besides, you don't take very much-maybe just a transistor radio or a clock or some silverware or something. It's strictly for kicks. Nobody gets hurt and nobody gets caught."
"Bill giggled, really feeling the effects of the grass and the beer, and took me affectionately in his arms. I knew I was high then because I began giggling, too, and visualizing our 'creeping' somehow as a truly exciting experience. 'Hey, this couldn't be better,' Bill said. 'We're even dressed for the occasion. We're both wearing dark clothes and I've got on tennis shoes.' For some reason, this really broke him up. He began laughing hysterically and swore that the fates had destined us to be 'co-creepers' this very night.
"Another thing that told me I was really high on grass was my letting Bill play with my breasts and pussy for the first time. It was as though I was off in another world as I lay back with my head tossing from side to side and let him fondle my tits and suck on my nipples right there in the front seat of the car. The first thing I knew, his prick was out and I was jacking him off. He came all over my hand and I remember thinking his sperm was like some beautiful magic fountain. And then my legs were wide apart and my pants were off and he was licking between my legs. That was one thing a boy had never done to me before and I really loved it! He must have eaten me for half an hour (I lost track of time), just swallowing my love juice and nibbling on my pussy lips until, finally, he concentrated on my clitoris and wagged his head back and forth, back and forth, for a long time before I finally had the first real, giant orgasm of my life!
"After that, because of the marijuana and all, I guess I would have followed him anywhere-creeping, or bank-robbing, or anything! I believed that whatever we did that night would be exciting and wonderful and that no harm could come to us. Jesus, when he made me come with his tongue that way I thought I would burst the car doors open with my screams of pleasure!
"Afterwards, when my panties were back on and
. we were both presentable again, Bill told me I had the sweetest tasting pussy he'd ever eaten and I felt just like a queen. He started up the car then, and we were off on what was to be my first 'creeping session."
"Finding a suitable place to break into isn't as easy as I'd guessed. As we cruised a fashionable neighborhood there were a lot of lights on-even though it was one in the morning-and Bill just didn't like the 'vibes' some of the places gave off. Also, we gave up on the first three places we tried to break into. The first place was a big two-storied house and a dog kept barking, and the other two had bars on the windows and seemed too difficult to enter, Bill said.
"We finally pulled the car in front of a big three-storied apartment building where most of the lights were out. 'This looks like Creepy-City,' he said, laughing, then drove up another block or so and parked the car. Bill told me to act nonchalant as we went up the elegant entrance to the building's front door. The front door was glass and as we looked into the lobby you could tell the place was very swanky and probably had nothing but rich tenants. The only trouble was, the main door was locked. Bill explained that a lot of the fancier apartment buildings were that way in order to keep burglars and creepers like us out.
"Bill said to follow him and walk at a normal pace. I did. We went back down to the street and started toward his car. Just when I thought he'd decided to look for another place he surprised me by turning into the bushes that ran alongside the apartment building. I followed him, and we crouched in the darkness. I felt thievish.
"'We'll hit one of the downstairs apartments and try to get in through the back door or a bathroom window,' he whispered.
"My heart was really slamming against my ribs, but the grass had given me courage and I followed him until we came to a little patio with a low wall. Bill tried the sliding glass door, but it was locked. The drapes were drawn in front of the doorway and there wasn't a light on inside. There was a regular-sized window beside the doorway, though, and Bill took out a knife and quickly slit the screen. When he had the screen off and on the ground he pushed against the window. It was locked. To my amazement, he pulled out a roll of tape from his pocket, quickly taped the glass and with one knock of the butt of his knife broke the window without barely making a noise. He reached in with his hand then, unlatched the window and raised it. He gestured to me to stay where I was and climbed in. A moment later, he helped me through the window.
"'We're in luck,' he whispered. 'We're not in a bedroom where anybody's sleeping. This is a den or something. Follow me.' We both got down on our hands and knees and crept from the room into a hallway. 'First, we want to find out if anybody's here and where. That makes it easier.' As I followed Bill, we both crawled to a doorway that was obviously the living room. We continued on hands and knees to another open doorway and paused. 'Wait here,' Bill whispered and disappeared.
"Strangely, I was really enjoying myself, although I was scared. I didn't even stop to think what might happen if somebody heard us and fired a gun or anything. In a moment, Bill returned and whispered, 'There's a bed, but nobody's in it. Either nobody's home or it's a guest room. Come on, let's check out the other rooms."
"It was a pretty big apartment-three bedrooms and a den-and it turned out there was nobody in the next bedroom either. That left one room to go. Even as we approached the last room we heard soft snoring. Bill gestured for me to follow him and we both crawled back out to the living room. There, faraway from the sleeping person, we could talk more safely. We stood in the kitchen, well away from the sleeping party or parties.
"'Listen,' Bill said, 'we'll search the empty rooms one by one for anything that looks valuable and save the occupied bedroom for last. As we go, I'll be carrying any stuff I find back to the window where we broke in, so we'll be able to get out fast when we're through.' He punched my arm lightly. 'Fun, isn't it?' he said. 'Don't make a sound while we're creeping around, understand? The only thing that might delay us leaving is if that's a good-looking woman by herself in that bedroom."
"I had no idea what he meant by his 'good-looking woman' remark, but he was off and feeling around for things before I could ask him just what he meant. I could have killed him when he opened the refrigerator and helped himself to a piece of cheese! The open refrigerator cast a light and I felt he was taking too great a risk. Bill just told me to relax and stop acting like an ass. With no dogs and no alarm system, he said, this 'job' would be a cinch.
"At the dining area, Bill opened a few drawers and put in his pocket what I imagined he thought was sterling silverware. He was wearing a baggy, dark jacket that accommodated quite a lot. Back in the den, Bill found twelve dollars in the top drawer of a desk and also exactly what he wanted-a small transistor radio. In the other rooms, Bill didn't find anything of value that was small enough to carry with us. By this time, the only room we hadn't searched was the occupied room and I told him I was scared and begged him to leave. 'Don't be silly,' he said. 'Waking up the people is the best part of creeping. You hold your hand in your pocket like you've got a gun. It scares the hell out of them. That's when they tell you if they've got anything really valuable-like jewelry-and that's where they keep their watches and rings and cash. Then you just tie them up and leave."
"Up until then I hadn't realized I'd gotten myself into a full-scale burglary operation. Pretending you had a gun and binding people sounded like pretty serious business! Still, I was high and I was already in this far, so I went along with Bill.
"At the open doorway of the last room we both stood up and listened to the sound of snoring. Bill told me to stay behind him, and then he suddenly flicked on the wall light switch. There was just one person in the double bed-a woman somewhere between thirty-five and forty. She was very attractive despite the curlers in her hair and the cold cream and look of terror on her face. She sat up in bed with the covers pulled up under her chin and, gasping, cried: 'Please-please don't hurt me. I'm--I'm a widow. I'm all alone. Take anything you want ... anything ... but please don't hurt me ... I won't tell ... I won't say a word. ... Take anything you want....' She began to cry and her eyes were terror-stricken.
"Bill was just staring at her, and I remembered what he'd said about a good-looking woman maybe delaying us. I hoped he didn't plan to molest her or anything. 'We won't hurt you, lady,' he said, finally. 'If you do just what we say, nothing's going to happen to you."
"'Anything ... anything,' she sobbed.
"Bill asked her then if she had any cash or jewelry and she told him there was cash in her purse on the dresser and some jewelry in the top drawer. She even volunteered that a sapphire necklace and earrings, plus the wedding ring on her hand, were the only things of value. The rest was just costume jewelry. Bill removed the ring from her trembling finger, then ransacked the dresser drawer and dumped all the jewelry-valuable or not-into his coat pocket. He seemed disappointed that there was only forty dollars in her purse. 'Sure you don't have a safe or anything?' he asked gruffly. She assured him she didn't, and Bill seemed to believe her.
"Then Bill walked over to the side of the bed and tore the bed clothing from her with one mighty tug. To my surprise she was stark-naked and she had a terrific figure for an older woman-big, well-formed breasts, and she wasn't fat at all.
"'What are you going to do?' she asked, petrified as she eyed me. I think maybe she figured she might be safe with another woman present.
"Bill just stood there staring at her nakedness with a sort of half grin on his face. 'I haven't decided yet,' he said, wetting his lips and gaping hungrily. 'So you're a widow, eh? A woman like you probably doesn't get much lovin', does she?' The woman stared directly into his eyes and then, I swear, a funny look came over her pretty face. I can't say exactly what it was, but it wasn't fear. It was something else.
"Bill ordered me to leave then. He shoved me and told me to wait by the window in the den where we'd broken in. I protested, pretty sure of what he was going to do, but he didn't pay any attention to me. He grabbed a pair of panty-hose on the chair, ripped them apart and began tying the woman's wrists to the posts at the head of the bed. 'Please ... please don't tie me up,' she begged. Bill turned to me again and shouted for me to get out and wait in the den. I pleaded with him not to do anything to the woman, pointing out that rape was a lot more serious offense than robbery. 'This is too good to pass up,' he said. 'I'm going to rip one off.' He shoved me hard and I knew he meant it. 'Wait in the den, goddammit!'
"Reluctantly I obeyed. I went to the den and sat down. Despite the marijuana, I was really more frightened than I'd ever been in my life. How could I have been so stupid as to let Bill talk me into such a thing? And now he was in that room raping that woman! The military had changed him a lot, all right. He was nothing more than an animal! I probably hadn't waited very long, but the time passed so slowly it seemed like hours. I didn't hear any screams or yells of protest and this puzzled me. I wondered if he had gagged her. What if he had knocked her out or maybe even bashed her head in? I couldn't stay where I was another second, so I sneaked down the hallway to the room and peeked in. In my wildest imagination I could never have anticipated what I witnessed happening in that woman's bed that night!
"Bill's pants were down to his knees, and he and the woman were lying side by side playing with each other! And they were grinning and making love talk in low voices to each other! The woman had obviously become very cooperative and Bill had even untied her hands! Now she had his hard on in both of her hands and he was playing with her tits and pussy. 'Ohhh, it's been so long,' the woman cooed. 'I can't describe how good it feels to hold a stiff cock in my hands. I've been so lonely and starved for this. Tonight wasn't just an accident. You were sent from heaven ... you're an answer to my prayers. Keep the jewels, anything! Just make love to me! Does it feel all right for you?'
"Bill was mouthing her breasts now. He stopped sucking and said, 'Yeah, baby. Great. Just great.' The woman had her legs wide apart and she was pumping with her butt as Bill stroked her inner thighs and massaged her vagina. One of my fears was dispelled. This certainly wasn't any rape scene I was watching! Bill's hard on looked ready to explode. The woman's expert hands were bathing his erection in his own lubrication with smooth, wet strokes and Bill was thrusting his hips and telling her how anxious he was to stick his cock into the slick inside of her cunt.
Strangely, she began tickling Bill's testicles and asked him how old he'd been the first time he'd masturbated. 'Twelve,' Bill answered, 'but I was thirteen when I first ate pussy and fucked."
"'My, you were precocious, weren't you?' the woman answered, tonguing his mouth ferociously and nibbling at his ears. 'But this is your first rape?' She chuckled.
"Bill was fingering her clit now and running his hand over her stomach as he worked steadily on her heaving breasts. 'You might say so, yes,' Bill panted. 'But if this is what rape's like, I've sure been missing something!'
"'That young girl won't bother us, will she?' the woman asked as she unbuttoned the front of Bill's shirt and brushed her erect nipples against his own. She lay very close with her arms around his waist and wiggled her entire body so that their naked bodies massaged each other. 'Nah,' Bill managed to reply, 'don't worry about her. She's just a kid. She'll wait."
"'Good, I wouldn't want anything to interrupt us,' the woman murmured, clenching Bill's cock tightly between her legs and riding it while she licked his ear. 'Oh, my darling, darling boy. I don't feel the slightest trace of guilt making love to you. It's so beautiful making love to you, sweetheart. The awful loneliness is gone and we're naked and close. Oh, your prick is so hard-so nice and hard, my love. I need you, baby. I needed you so much.' Her hands moved in circles over his chest and she pressed her open mouth against his and let her tongue play with his.
"As I watched this love feast, the naked bodies writhing and their tongues twirling about each other's mouths, I found myself becoming sexually excited beyond belief. Involuntarily, one hand stole up and clenched my breast and the other began rubbing between my legs. Despite myself, I had become a participant there on the bed and as Bill ran his hands all over the woman's smooth body, feeling the indentations and swells of her hips and breasts and the rise of her pronounced but shapely stomach, I savored my own body, too. I explored its delights, and, at the same time, marveled at the way the woman writhed and made a love instrument of her entire torso.
"Bill tore his mouth from hers suddenly and showered her face with hungry kisses as she clenched her eyes tightly shut. 'Bite my neck!' she said. 'Bite my neck and ears, darling. Her hands moved from his back and dropped to his genitals again and manipulated his pulsing organ as though her fingers were a million urging tentacles. My own finger slid beneath the elastic of my panties and I began stroking my clitoris harder, faster.
"'I'm gonna eat your cunt now, lady,' Bill rasped. 'I gotta get my tongue in your snatch!'
"The woman clutched him hard. 'Oh, yes,' she cried. 'You must, darling. You're supposed to kiss and lick me everywhere. I'd die if you didn't. And then I'll kiss my darling, too, from his head to his toes. I'll lick you all over."
"Bill slid down so that he could squeeze and suck on her titties at the same time. There in the dim light he took each heaving, ivory breast and kissed its coral nipple with loud, desperate kisses.
He cleansed first one, then the other with his darting tongue and then he pushed them both together and sucked them deep into his mouth and nursed eagerly, frantically. Sounds of suction echoed in the room. The woman was flinging her head from side to side as though the pleasure she was experiencing was too intense to bear for another second. Her hands dug fiercely into his scalp to urge him on. Bill's cock jerked violently, and all of a sudden he made a lunge for the woman's crotch. He held her trembling ass in both of his hands and buried his face in her furry love nest.
"His head worked up and down furiously then, licking just the way he'd eaten me earlier, and I knew what feelings were going through that woman's body. I felt vaguely jealous and my hand worked harder as I imagined Bill's mouth on my own cunt again and listened to the woman mew and groan as Bill gobbled her thrashing pelvis. Oh, how I wished Bill was lapping at my love slit again!
"The woman's ecstatic chanting was instructing Bill not to tongue her so fast but, at the same time, her hands shoving against his head seemed to urge him to engulf the treasure of her cunt faster and faster in his hungry mouth. As I watched, bug-eyed and wishing I was in the woman's place, I fingered myself and pinched the nipples of my breasts so hard I thought I might faint. It was awful standing there and knowing precisely how that woman felt. She wanted Bill to hurry and yet she wanted that delicious lapping tongue to continue forever. I watched her direct his head with her hands on his cheeks as he sniffed and lapped at her dripping slit, and her dripping slit became my dripping slit.
"I had let Bill taste my vagina, so I knew his technique-everything he was doing. I knew his wet snout was buried in her cunt, alternately gobbling at the wet inner folds and stabbing her clit. Yes, he was nursing on her cunt just as he'd nursed on her titties earlier, sipping on each sensitive lip, each velvet-like guard to the inner hole. God, how Bill could eat a girl's pussy! I wondered if many men could tongue a girl's privates so marvelously. And then Bill's mouth was inhaling and sucking and tasting the woman's pussy so fiercely I could hear him smacking his lips against her gushing juices. Using both hands, he pulled her cunt lips apart and probed deeper with his tongue while her fingernails dug deep into his back. 'Oh, yes, baby!' she squealed. 'You know! You know. God, how you do know! Higher, darling! Yesssss ... right there ... up there ... ohhhhhhh! '
"Bill had spread her vagina apart now and bathed her inner lips with his tongue while continuing to rub at the top of her vagina. Now his head began moving in a circular motion, concentrating all his lapping efforts on her nerve center. His thumbs were placed against each cunt lip and he jiggled them as he licked. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as I masturbated and watched and listened. I remember wishing suddenly that the woman's hands were still tied, though. Somehow the thought of being tied up and having a man do all those things to you excited me even more and I imagined that I was bound, head and foot, while Bill ate my pussy and got ready to fuck me.
My clit was swollen, and I remember thinking that it was like a tiny piece of taffy for men to suck on. The only trouble was, my little piece of taffy couldn't thrust itself at a real man's wet tongue and it didn't have a voice connected to the other end that could cry out how good the man was making it feel. No, all I had was my own fingers and I couldn't utter a sound!
"The woman on the bed was making enough sounds for both of us, though. 'Baby ... ohhhhh ... ahhhhh!' she screamed as, I guess, she came. I know I did! My knees went weak and I had to hold the wall for support!"
In the case of Donna, we have an example of the individual who suddenly discovers the existence of a number of latent and previously unrecognized 'sexual hang-ups." Fortunately for Donna, only some of the desire to be taken by force in the act of sex, along with a moderate bondage fetish, extended into her later life. This is not to minimize these sexual deviations in any way, for they should be dealt with clinically so that the patient realizes his deviant tendencies, dispels them, and ultimately pursues a totally guilt-free sex life.
First, however, since the use of the marijuana was involved in Donna's traumatic encounter simultaneously with burglary, rape, cunnilingus, voyeurism accompanied by masturbation, and a pronounced leaning toward a bondage fetish, it might be a good idea to dwell on the effects of marijuana. "Pot" or "grass," as marijuana is commonly called in this country, has been called everything from "totally harmless" to "the stepping stone to the agonies of hell." It is a derivative of the hemp plant and aspects of its history are long and colorful.
To the Chinese, thousands of years ago, marijuana was known as "The Liberator of Sin." Later, Chinese-probably with the same general notion in mind-called it "The Delight Giver." Hindu names for marijuana seem to agree with the later views of the Chinese, so that it is variously called "The Soother of Grief, The Heavenly Guide, The Conqueror, The Dispenser of Happiness, Cementer of Friendship," and so on. In the Eastern world fond titles were bestowed on the drug since it was said to bless its users with visions of paradise complete with beautiful nymphs and alluring catamites. It was even said to cure the psychically impotent. In the Western world, the pleasures provided by marijuana are strikingly more modest, though they seem to dispute the claim of some authorities that no erotic stimulation can be obtained from the drug whatever.
Aphrodisiac effects of marijuana abound with contradiction, both from contemporary writers and historians of long ago. Burton, translator of The Arabian Nights, states that Orientals used it to prolong coition and to increase the intensity of the sensations. Hector of France echoed: "Hashish is a positive aphrodisiac ... the length of the sexual act being at once reinforced and repeated." Wood, one of the first American students of the drug, found that "at no time were any aphrodisiac feelings produced," but he tells of a friend whose sexual appetite was stimulated for days by use of the drug. Walton didn't consider the drug itself an aphrodisiac but believed that it could produce such an effect by exerting a paralytic action on the higher structures of the brain and releasing the lower, more primitive structures which are normally restrained and controlled by the cerebral cortex. In short, current reports cite as many "experts" who swear by the aphrodisiac properties of marijuana as those who deny it.
R. E. L. Masters, in Forbidden Sexual Behavior and Morality, has this to say regarding marijuana:
Marijuana tends to diminish the inhibitions and increase suggestibility. If one smokes marijuana as an aphrodisiac, sexual excitement might at once occur, as it might with any placebo. That marijuana has the reputation of being an aphrodisiac is in itself enough to make it one in some cases. For example, the drug has often been sold by prostitutes to their customers, who have had no cause for complaint about the results. But no doubt those results would have been equally impressive in many cases had the marijuana cigarettes been made of tea leaves or whatever.
The question remains: Why did Donna become a party to the criminal acts of burglary and rape on the night in question? While it would be an oversimplification to attribute her participation exclusively to mere "thrill-seeking," this explanation might very well be nearer the truth than one might imagine. She used marijuana out of curiosity, and, of course, she did not fully realize the consequences of housebreaking until she was irrevocably involved in the criminal situation.
For reasons which will become increasingly evident in the remainder of Donna's story, however, we are principally concerned with Donna's pronounced symptoms of masochism as evidenced in her passive display of voyeurism and masturbation. Most significantly, she was fascinated by, and identified with, the victim whom her boyfriend bound and took sexually by force. She even went so far as to verbalize disappointment in the fact that the woman's wrists had been untied by the rapist.
Masochism has its origin in a variety of childhood experiences and finds expression in many aspects of adulthood. In religious life, for example, it may assume the shape of self-sacrifice or self-destruction, prompted by the idea that a victim is necessary for the sustenance of a deity. The sacrifice is considered to be a sign of reverence or submission, a tribute, or means of atonement for sins committed. In Donna's case, as it will be seen, her masochistic origins go back to her overhearing conversations between her mother and father in their bedroom.
Krafft-Ebing, who originally coined the word masochism, describes it in his book Psychopathia Sexualis as follows:
Masochism is the counterpart of sadism insofar as it derives the acme of pleasure from reckless acts of violence at the hands of the consort. It springs from the impulse to create a situation by means of external physical force, which is in accordance with the individual psychical and spinal stage of potency, as a preparatory and concomitant means to experience the voluptuous sensation of coitus, to increase it or make it a substitute for cohabitation.
In the same study, the author cites an instance involving a masochist:
Every three months a man of about forty-five years would visit a certain prostitute and pay her for the following act. The prostitute undressed him, tied his hands and feet, bandaged his eyes and drew the curtains of the windows. Then she would make her guest sit down on a sofa, and leave him there alone in a helpless position. After half an hour, she came back and unbound him. Then the man would pay her and leave perfectly satisfied, to repeat his visit in about three months.
The point is, the man cited was helpless while in the dark with his captor (the prostitute) and was willing to pay for this helplessness. Rex's victim, with whom Donna identified and fantasized as being tied and raped, was also helpless. Masochism may require relatively mild stimuli, as observed in the above example, or severe stimuli such as bondage, rape, and even murder.
"It's funny, but as I stood there watching Bill and the woman I wanted to keep fingering my clit even though I'd just come! Before, whenever I'd masturbated, I would come just once and that would be the end of it. But now I was so excited I wanted to come again and I was certain I could. I was weak-kneed, but I kept rubbing my love nub and staring at Bill sucking the woman's cunt. Suddenly she stopped him and lay breathing hard and trembling all over, really panting as though she'd run for miles. 'I'm gonna fuck you now,' Bill said. 'I'm gonna stick my cock right in your pussy."
"For some reason, she asked Bill if he'd wait just for a minute. I guess she was really worn out and wanted to rest up for a moment. I didn't care what they did. I just went right on fingering my cunt and squeezing my nipples at the doorway. Bill said he would wait, but not very long. He lay close to her and pressed his throbbing erection against her hip to remind her, I guess, that his instrument was there and eager to get on with his own orgasm. There was a tortured look on his face as if he couldn't wait too much longer. She seemed to realize this, because she suddenly turned and faced him. 'I want you to fuck me, honest,' she said, 'but could I suck on you a little first? I want to kiss and suck you the way you did me, darling. Oh, it was wonderful! Couldn't you wait to fuck me just a little while so I can suck your beautiful prick?'
"By this time, I guess Bill would have settled for anything even remotely resembling a cunt around his prick. She had already promised to fuck him and a blow job didn't seem unreasonable to him, for he said, 'Okay, lady. Go ahead and suck it for a while."
"The woman's hand slipped down and clamped around his penis. 'Ummm, my precious stranger has been hard as a rock all this time,' she cooed. 'I really don't mean to be selfish, but what you did to me felt so heavenly I just have to recover. And I'm desperate to lick you! ' Her hand began jacking his slick organ while she kissed his face all over passionately. She nibbled on his nipples for a while and, finally, lay her cheek down on his stomach and moved his cock so that its head settled into the heat of her mouth. Bill groaned and thrust his hips so that his organ could enjoy a little more of the mouth heat. Slowly, the woman dipped her head so that her lips ingested more of Bill's prick. She expertly manipulated his balls inside their flesh sack, too, as she nursed very slowly up and down the length of his rod. Every now and then she'd stop to plant a big kiss on each testicle and nibble at the base of Bill's member before continuing her cocksucking. At these times she would admire his prick standing so straight and true and call him her 'bandit baby' and her 'thief sweetheart."
"She certainly wasn't sucking Bill's cock the way I'd imagined girls did it to men. She was making a meal of the thing! And Bill could seem to tell that her skill went beyond mere technique. Her approach was loving and gentle and she seemed to love his prick just for being a prick. She really must have been sex-starved, all right. But then she surprised my by seeming to be genuinely fond of Bill himself! She would interrupt her oral feast to hug his hips and kiss his stomach and chest. Bill didn't seem to mind her departures from his organ. In fact, he seemed to like them. Each time she let his cock flop from her mouth he just lay there, palming her cheek and listening to her purr. Still, Bill did seem grateful each time his prick returned to the oven of her mouth.
"He grabbed her head hard now and began pumping and muttering aloud as I continued staring and jiggling my clitoris. 'Jesus, how good can anything feel?' he moaned. 'You wouldn't believe it, but my cock has already been inside another girl's mouth tonight. You're an expert, lady-a real expert. Oh, God, it's almost like fucking ... maybe even better ... oh, man ... yeah...."
"The woman ceased sucking him and said, 'Do you want to come this way? If you want to shoot off in my mouth, it's okay. Do you want to? Hmm?' Judging from the look of anguish on Bill's face it was a tough decision to make. He didn't seem to want her to stop sucking, but he seemed to want to fuck her, too. He held onto her head tightly for a moment. Then he lifted her face and I knew he had voted in favor of fucking. He lay there panting with his face up next to hers and instantly her hand found his prick and his hand was massaging her vagina. 'Did you like that, darling?' she asked. 'I said you could come in my mouth. I'd swallow your juice. You could have done anything you wanted."
"'Yes-yes I liked it,' he said, 'but I want to stick my prick inside your cunt more. I hope you're ready, lady, 'cause now you're gonna get laid. I mean it."
"She flung her leg over his hip. 'Ummm, I want it there, too, baby. I just wanted you to know you could come in my mouth if you wanted to. Yes, stick it into my pussy, precious. Put it in and fuck me now.' Bill raised himself up on hands and knees and the woman's long legs encircled him, her inner thighs against his hips and her heels planted firmly in the small of his back. He made certain she was ready by sticking his finger into her honey nest and I could hear even from across the room that she was juicy and squishy and ready for him. Bill emitted a loud moan as he fitted himself to her; then he was sliding his organ between her slick lips and working it in and out. He talked to her, asking her if it felt good, and she began babbling into his ear making unintelligible answers as she clutched his buttocks hard with both hands. Then: 'Rape me!' she cried. 'Rape me!'
"Her commands triggered something new deep down inside me. Somehow her urging Bill to rape her almost brought me to orgasm. I wished again that she were tied up, as she had been at the start, and I imagined that a powerful man was raping me and that I was tied up and helpless. Strange pictures swirled about inside my head and I remembered things from the distant past. How many times had I heard from my bedroom as a child the sound of mother's voice crying out in the night to my father, 'No! No! Don't do that! Take your hands off me. Don't touch me!' I had already forgotten those sounds, those desperate cries, but now they all came back to me as I masturbated and listened and watched Bill and the woman on the bed before me.
"'Hold my ass hard!' the woman was screaming at Bill. 'Grab each cheek of my bottom and squeeze hard while you're fucking me, sweet darling. Go a little easy with your spear for now. But when I tell you to stick me hard, come down with all your might. God, you're inside me! A man is inside me! At last! Fuck! Fuck, baby!'
"I was so hot and overcome with desire by then that I lay down on the hall carpeting, continuing to finger myself and watch Bill fuck the woman. I had my head propped up against the wall so I wouldn't miss a single gorgeous movement of either of them. The woman was grunting like an animal now and moving her ass in a circular motion as Bill rolled with her, riding gently, obeying her requests to 'go easy' or stab her harder. I wondered who was raping whom? She was like a woman possessed, her voice shrill and eerie. The shock of first entering her seemed to have passed Bill by now and he was gutturally answering her feverish questions. She was saying, 'Is it good, sweetheart? Is it really good? If it's really good, then tell me how good it is. Tell me it's good. Is it hot and good?' she moaned.
"'Yeah, lady, it's the best,' Bill answered. 'It's the best. Slick and slippery. I love your hot cunt, lady ... I love your hot snatch."
"She tugged at his ass still harder. 'Good as any other pussy you've fucked, darling? Do you like my pussy as much as any woman's you ever fucked? Hmmm? Do you?'
"Bill ground his pelvis hard into hers to reassure her, and I imagined my own cunt was the object of his thrusts. 'Yeah,' he answered. 'It's the best cunt of all."
"The woman still seemed in need of further assurance. 'How? Why?' she begged. 'Why do you like my cunt better than anybody else's? Tell me why?' She seemed to be trying to insert the entire lower half of Bill's body into her hole now, pressing up harder and harder.
"'It just seems hotter,' Bill managed to answer. 'And it's strange stuff. I like new and strange pussy and-well, you surprised me 'cause it turned out you love to fuck as much as I do. Yeah, lady, you got a nice and hot, juicy cunt and you move it a certain way. I like the way you shove your box up at my cock ... yeah ... yeah...."
"I couldn't understand all this conversation going on-I mean the reason for it. I just kept my eyes fastened on the woman as I identified with her emotions and feelings of getting fucked by an intruder as she pumped incredibly hard. I was fingering my own cunt with a fury, and though I couldn't understand the reason for the woman's conversation I mouthed the same words she did, mimicking her as Bill's prick stuck her. Bill followed her lead then and responded by fucking harder. He had her legs practically up against her shoulders and I could see love juice running down over his fingers as they clutched her bobbing ass. Oh, these two people were fucking-really fucking-were not prissy and holding back as my mother had been with my father so long ago when I was a young girl! Now, at last, I understood for the first time why men and women went to any lengths to be together like this. Whether it was rape or not didn't make any difference. The main thing was to be fucking, fucking! And maybe rape was the best of all. Yes, getting raped and even being tied up at the same time!
"I came then again, but still I kept fingering my clit, knowing I could come again as I watched Bill and the woman. 'Now spear me hard!' the woman was shrieking. 'I want it as hard as you can give it to me. That's it! Stick me, stick me harder! Harder!'
"Bill was lifting his pelvis a good foot with each stroke from the bed. The springs were squeaking wildly and the bedclothes fell to the floor. It was a crashing monster of a fuck, and then the woman's short hysterical bursts became closer together, blending into a long scream:
'I'm commmmmming! There! There! THERE!'
"Both of their bodies stiffened, quivering, and then they lay spent and breathless-two heaps of satiated flesh. My own third orgasm had arrived just seconds before theirs with wave after unbelievable wave of pleasure washing over me before my hand ceased its work on my clitoris. When I was able, I crawled back to the den and waited for Bill.
"I guess about five minutes later Bill came in and, without a word of explanation, we climbed out the window and left. Later, before he dropped me off at my house I asked him what had happened. 'Oh, nothing,' he lied. 'She was pretty scared, so I gave her back the sapphire necklace and earrings. She wasn't a bad old gal and I felt sort of sorry for her. I had to calm her down. That's what took me so long.' Bill must have either thought I was pretty stupid or deaf, because the whole apartment building must have heard the woman screaming as she came. I didn't say anything at the time, though, and Bill said he would see me the following Saturday night. I agreed, got out of the car, and went immediately to bed.
"All that week I couldn't get the memory of that night out of my mind. The realization that we had actually 'broken into somebody's apartment and committed robbery terrified me and I promised myself I'd never smoke marijuana again or take part in anything illegal with Bill. But, what's even more weird, I became aware that I wanted something else from Bill and I was determined to get it. Not only did I want Bill to screw me, I wanted him to screw me the way he'd screwed that lady! But there was one difference. I vowed to persuade him to tie me up and pretend to rape me. I was pretty sure he'd accommodate me. I'd tell him it was a game I wanted to play. I'd never seen a male turn down fucking a girl yet, so I figured I'd have no trouble.
"The more I thought about my plan the more crazy I figured I was, and several times I decided to forget the whole thing. You're a candidate for the nut house! I told myself, resolving to abandon the whole notion. But the fantasies of being tied up and raped kept coming back. I even kept dreaming of it. Finally, I decided to ask Bill.
"Bill phoned me the following Thursday to verify our Saturday night date. I told him to forget about the movies. I suggested that we just have a hamburger or something out and then go to his place and 'be cozy.' His reaction, of course, was just as I'd expected. I'd made it very clear what I meant by 'being cozy.' Bill became a little boastful then and told me that the woman whose apartment we'd just robbed had told him she liked him and had asked him to come back and visit her.
"Bill's confession prompted me to confess that I had seen him making love to the woman from the hallway. And then I told him to be sure and have some strong cord or rope at his apartment for our date on Saturday. 'What the hell for?' he asked. I just smiled and said, 'You'll see.' He sounded as though he thought I'd gone a little crazy, but he agreed and we hung up. I could hardly wait for Saturday.
"When Bill picked me up on Saturday evening I told him that I'd gone along with his 'creeping idea' to please him and that now I wanted a favor in return. He agreed, and then I explained to him that when we'd finished eating I wanted him to take me to his apartment, tie me up on his bed, and pretend to rape me. As I'd suspected, he instantly liked the idea of going to his place, but he saw no need to tie me up and go through the motions of raping me. I let him know that it had to be my way or nothing. Except for the one time he'd eaten my pussy in the car, we hadn't actually fucked, so he seemed willing to go along with anything if he could have my cunt.
"I explained to him very carefully that once we reached his apartment I wanted him to act like a genuine rapist. No matter what I said or did he was to tie me up and play his role the best he could. After a few questions, he agreed.
"We reached his apartment around nine. After necking on the couch for a while he began making advances-feeling my tits and suggesting we lie on the bed together. When I refused, he dragged me into the bedroom and wrestled with me on the bed. At first I pretended to resist him, but, gradually, I really got into the role. He got all my clothes off (without tearing them, fortunately) and by the time he'd tied my wrists and ankles to the bedposts and stood over me naked and with his stiff prick pointing at me menacingly I knew I was born to be raped. How a girl could go seventeen years without knowing this about herself amazed me, but there I was with waves of desire rippling through my entire body and my pussy gushing. My breasts, my cunt, my entire body was his for the taking and I was delirious with anticipation.
"'Okay, baby,' Bill said, playing his role. 'Now you're going to get it. If I hear a peep out of you, I'll have to gag you, too. I'm gonna do whatever I want with that beautiful body of yours and there's not a goddam thing you can do about it, hear?' Bill laughed. 'I'd hate to gag you, baby, because that would keep me from doing something special to you. Yeah. First, I'm gonna stick my prick in that beautiful little mouth of yours and make you suck it for a while. Then I'm gonna suck your delicious little cunt before I fuck you as long as I please."
"Bill was really getting carried away with himself, loving the role I'd assigned to him and (I'm sure) taking advantage of the situation, but the truth was I loved every second of it. Slowly I was transported from his apartment. I became a real victim, a helpless female bound hand and foot who was at the mercy of an inconsiderate, lustful male. First, Bill ran his hands all over my body, feeling my legs and tummy, my hips and ass and breasts and cunt-everything. The look on his face was perfect. He was a portrait of lust-a picture of a man starving for a female body who had dragged his prey off to some remote place where nobody could stop him from having his way with her. I squealed and tugged at my bonds, but I was tied too securely. He licked my tits and pressed his mouth savagely to mine. He went on grunting and sniffing and licking my body from head to toe for a long time as I pleaded for mercy. He ignored me and straddled my naked body and began fucking me between my tits. He held each breast harshly in his rough palms and drove his hot male meat between them as I protested-and nearly reached orgasm from the beauty of being held captive.
"After he'd fucked between my tits for a long time Bill scooted farther up and, sitting lightly on my chest, jacked his long organ directly in front of my face so I could see its head oozing juice. 'I'm gonna stick my cock in your mouth in a minute, baby,' he said, 'and you better suck it nice and pretty or I'll knock your head off!' I turned my head as though disgusted, but he roughly made me do his bidding. He slid his dribbling cock right into my mouth and began thrusting his hips and driving his big cock clear to the back of my throat just as if he was fucking a pussy. He even made me fondle his hairy balls as he watched his hard on exit and enter between my lips and muttered obscene words. 'Eat it up, baby,' he said. 'Munch on my meat or I'll beat the hell out of you.' Then he said, 'I've decided to come in your mouth. Yeah, that's it. This is too nice to miss. I'm gonna shoot my load in your mouth, then rest up and smoke a cigarette before I fuck your cunt. I can feel it coming now, baby. My hot load's gonna fill your mouth right up. You're gonna swallow it all, too. If you spit out one drop, I'm gonna knock hell out of you."
"Bill wasn't serious, of course, but by now I really believed he was a rapist. I had to do what he ordered, and I loved it. I'd never tasted a man's sperm before, but there it came! He pumped faster as I tugged at my bonds helplessly and held my cheeks as the first gush of his spend streamed into my mouth. As his come filled my throat and I was drinking it down, he reached back and rubbed my clit. I almost came right then both from the humiliation he was inflicting on me and the stimulation of his finger. I grunted as though trying to rid myself of his instrument filling my mouth, but he held my mouth in place until the last of his semen was drained from his balls and I'd swallowed it all.
"Next, Bill went over to the small couch in his bedroom to smoke a cigarette. 'Just a few minutes and I'll be ready again,' he said, grinning and slapping his lazy hard on back and forth with his hand. 'I'm gonna lick your pussy for an hour or so and then Big Ben here is gonna slide into that tight little twat of yours."
"Bill smoked two cigarettes, all the while telling me about what he was going to do to me, and then he came over and licked me from head to toe. Once again I squealed in protest-even when at last his mouth settled on my cunt. He'd sucked my pussy once before, but he was much rougher, the idea of my being tied up really seemed to turn him on, and being tied and helpless intensified the sensations of his tongue gobbling me from my tailbone to my clitoris. For the first time I wished my hands were free, for I had two enormous orgasms and I wanted to hold his head and dig my nails into his back each time. Finally, when he actually fucked me-stuck his immense hard on right into the core of me-I knew what it was to be a woman getting laid. God, he fucked me harder and longer than he'd fucked that woman we'd robbed and I thought I'd never stop coming. His cock was a piston, a sledge hammer, a furious hunk of hard meat that dug and tore into me and brought such unspeakable pleasure I didn't think I'd survive it.
"On my last orgasm I guess I blacked out, because the next thing I remember was waking up with tears all over my face and my wrists and ankles raw from the rope burns and Bill asking me if I was all right. I assured him I was okay, much to his relief, and asked him to untie me. He did, and then I asked him to drive me home, where I fell into a deep sleep. I had never felt more physically satisfied in my life and I slept for thirteen hours.
"Bill and I played the same game many times after that (we even invented a few improvements on the 'rapist game'), but then Bill got into trouble with the law and was sent to jail for burglary. Ever since then I've tried to find other men who are willing to make love to me my way. Some men say they understand, but I suspect a lot of them think I'm crazy."
Donna's masochistic compulsion to be bound and raped did not, fortunately, advance to a more serious stage where she would require the infliction of severe physical injury, which is characteristic in many tragic cases of this type.
Cases such as Donna's are not rare and can be observed in males as well as females. This form of masochism reveals itself in a variety of symptoms and, unfortunately, the guarantee of a cure cannot always be given. In Donna's favor, of course, is the all-important fact that she is in qualified professional hands. If she is brought to understand the reasons for her need to be mistreated, she will, ultimately, be cured. Since she sought the proper help early, it is likely that she will once again function as a reasonably "normal" member of society.
CHAPTER FIVE
Anal Angie
"I'd never really given the idea of having anal sex with a man much thought until I began dating Wesley, my boss at the electronics firm. I'm his secretary, and even though there's quite an age difference between us-he's twenty-nine and I'm nineteen-we began dating right after I went to work for the company six months ago. I doubt if we'll ever get serious enough to consider marriage. I find Wes to be a thoroughly interesting, fascinating and witty companion. He's a very adept lover, too, and the only thing that turned me off about him in the beginning of our relationship was his obsession with anal sex.
"You see, Wes is divorced now, but his first wife was apparently an absolute bug on the subject of analism. She loved it, even preferred making love that way, and insisted that Wes make love to her in the rectum exclusively. I've heard that some girls love anal sex, and I don't necessarily frown on them, but ever since I lost my virginity at fifteen I've been partial to conventional sex with males. That's just the way I am. I've done just about everything with men, I suppose, except let them fuck me in the ass, so I don't think you could exactly call me 'prudish' or 'square.' It's just that I consider 'butt-fucking,' as Wes so tactfully refers to it, as a rather painful process. Or I should say did consider it a painful process. Because all my indifference and adverse feelings about anal sex have to be expressed in the past tense now. Wes tells me that now I'm even more eager for, and more skilled in, the art of 'ass-fucking' than his wife ever was. This change in me may seem peculiar to you, but, after all, that's why I'm here-isn't it?-to try and tell you what happened and why I prefer anal sex to just doing it the regular way.
"At any rate, until that night Wes hypnotized me and I suddenly emerged from my trance to find myself flat on my stomach with his eight-inch penis imbedded in my bottom, I had no idea what anal sex was all about. I just couldn't see how a girl could get any pleasure from doing it that way. A man, yes, but not a woman. But did I learn fast how mistaken I'd been. I mentioned that Wes had hypnotized me, and that's an important part of my story. You see, Wes is an amateur hypnotist.
It's his hobby. Whenever we're at parties, he is asked to hypnotize people and make them do all kinds of amusing things. He always agrees-it really is amusing to see. He talks very slowly and gently to his subjects, tells them they're growing very sleepy-and all the usual preliminaries-until they're in a deep trance. Very few people are unable to be hypnotized, so it's a great sport. While everybody else in the room remains quiet, Wes tells his subject to do this or that, or be this or that, and fantastic things happen.
"For instance, he'll tell an ordinarily reserved and shy girl that she's a stripper-and she suddenly becomes a lusty, hip-thrusting dancer. Or he'll tell someone they're very sad and they sob huge tears. That sort of thing. One of the most fascinating things he does is take people back to their childhoods, and tell them to speak as though they're, say, four or five years old. They actually become little children again-talk and walk and act just as they behaved in childhood. Wes has done this with me several times at parties-I'm an excellent subject.
"I mention all this about hypnotism because without hypnosis I would probably never have experienced anal sex. But let me go back a little and explain how everything happened. As I said before, I'd never thought much about my anus. As a kid I played all the usual sex games with playmates-'doctor' and everything. I was just as curious about little boys as they were about me, and anytime kids my age and I found ourselves alone it seems everybody had his or her pants down, and the girls were fondling the boys' erections while the boys were playing with the girls' pussies. I even sucked on a boy's peter when I was seven-I didn't feel a trace of guilt about it. It seemed natural, so I enjoyed it. In fact, I marveled at the way a boy's cock rose from a limp, hanging thing to a firm rod that stood straight out, anxious and eager. Even then I remember that I was vaguely afraid of pregnancy, and I wouldn't let boys put their cocks inside me or even near my hole, although I did know a few girls who actually fucked even at the age of ten.
"By the time I was thirteen, I was engaging regularly in heavy petting. I wasn't considered a tramp or anything, but I let boys squeeze and suck on my breasts. Quite often, if I got really excited, I'd let them rub my pussy on the outside of my panties. After that, everything accelerated rapidly, of course, and at the age of fourteen I was jacking off boys and letting them finger my bare pussy if I liked them. So it was inevitable that when I was fifteen a boy named Jimmy fucked me with a rubber. I didn't 'come' that first time, but I remember enjoying fucking very much. From then on, if I really liked a boy and we'd been dating for a while, I'd fuck regularly. I probably wouldn't have fucked quite so often, but, you see, my parents were very modern, aware, intelligent and damned practical. So toward the end of my fifteenth year my mother practically insisted I start taking The Pill after several girl friends of mine ended up pregnant.
"Throughout high school I usually made love on a regular basis with the boys I went steady with. Depending on the boy's knowledge and skill, I'd say I reached an orgasm about seventy percent of the time. We didn't talk much about sex aside from the usual foreplay mumbling. I mean, we didn't have long, analytical discussions about our sexual likes and dislikes. We simply performed. So naturally I didn't know about the potentials of my rear end for quite a long while.
"The night I first found out how serious Wes was about my ass, we were lying on our sides in his bedroom with the lights nice and low. Instead of just lightly touching my anus, he really attacked it. As usual, I squirmed so that he would concentrate on my pussy once again, but instead of complying, he continued palming the cheeks of my buttocks and moaning about how smooth and beautiful my ass was. Then, as he went on talking, he gradually tickled the eye of my bottom-the actual hole-with his finger. I sort of grunted my displeasure at this, trying to move; but he held me tighter and continued stimulating my asshole. 'Don't move away that way, Angie,' he pleaded. 'I love you, so I love everything you have. You always seem to move away when I touch your beautiful little ass. Let me play with your other little hole this way, too. Relax and I think you'll find it nice. It's nice and tight, honey. You'd be surprised how nice it feels if you just stop fighting it and let my entire finger slide slowly up inside there."
"Wes seemed determined to finger my bottom, so I let him go on fingering my rear hole for quite a while. I can't say it hurt, but I just couldn't see wasting time back there when my nipples and clit were so much more ripe, ready and demanding. But he kept concentrating on my bottom while he rubbed my clit at the same time with his thumb. I had the strange feeling that even though he wasn't totally neglecting my nipples and clit, somehow-because of his fascination with my asshole-they were paying a slight price. Finally, I took his hand by the wrist and placed it fully on my cunt, telling him to rub my favorite place the way he usually did. Reluctantly, he did, and as usual we had a totally satisfying fuck. We were both perspiring and panting when it was all over. It had been a dandy with us.
"It wasn't until much later, after we'd made love for the second time and Wes was smoking a cigarette beside me on the bed, that he brought up the subject of anal lovemaking for the first time in a frank discussion. He was timid about getting into the matter, but gradually he told me about his first wife and how she had taught him this kind of love. 'In the beginning, I thought it was just fair,' he told me, 'but after a few weeks of doing it that way to her I learned to like fucking her rear just as much or more than her cunt. It's not really a perversion,' he explained. 'It's just another way to do it-like sixty-nining. I don't know. Maybe I learned to like it so much because I knew she liked it that way so much. Things like that are hard to understand. All I know is that I really developed a taste for ass-fucking."
"His words stung me. I felt as though there was somehow something lacking in my vagina. My reaction was that I felt inferior to his ex-wife in some way-I felt hurt and resentful. Instead of trying to talk it out with him I clammed up and became irrational. Finally, realizing that Wes was only trying to express something that was heavy on his mind rather than holding back and letting his desire destroy our relationship, I heard him out and agreed that we should give anal sex a try. I assured him I had nothing against it morally, and that I wasn't repulsed by the idea. My refusal earlier had been simply due to my preference and satisfaction with the 'tried-and-true' way we'd been experiencing. 'If it means that much to you, Wes,' I said, kissing him tenderly, 'then let's go ahead and try it. If it'll fit, I'm all for it."
"He seemed elated. 'Don't worry, darling,' he beamed. 'I'll be so gentle you won't even know what's happening. We'll use hand cream. You'll love it. I just know you will. I'll take all the time necessary. I don't care if it takes hours to get it in. You're looking at Mister Patience.' He kissed me passionately, and we began the preliminaries to our third love session-a love session I wasn't to forget for a long time. Even Mister Patience wasn't enough to convert me to ass-fucking that first time. Frankly, it hurt like hell! I sensed that a stone wall had been erected between us, and, even worse, that at last we had hit upon a fundamental difference in our sexual appetites that might spell the eventual end of our entire relationship.
"At any rate, we began kissing and fondling each other's bodies as before. After five minutes or so of this, Wes gently flopped me over onto my tummy and began kissing and hugging my ass as though it was some kind of sacred object. He moaned in a way I'd never heard him moan before, and slowly he slipped his hand between the cheeks of my ass. As he kissed each cheek almost reverently, he began greasing me up with gobs of cold cream. 'See, that doesn't hurt, does it?' he asked, slipping his finger more and more into my rear hole.
"Actually, it didn't hurt, and my assurance that everything was all right seemed to give him encouragement. He kept easing his finger farther and farther up my asshole until it was in as far as it would go. He let out a sigh that made me wonder if he was having an orgasm right then. I had no idea my asshole really meant so much to him, despite his previous persuasion. 'Don't panic now, Angie,' he cooed. 'I'm going to place just the tip of my prick against your ass, and gradually shove it in. I'll go nice and easy so it won't hurt. If it hurts, just say so and I'll stop until you say it's okay."
"He began sliding the head of his penis in, but despite the cream and his slow pace it hurt. I thought he would split me in half. I cried out so he assured me once again he'd move more slowly. He waited a few seconds, then pushed again. But it was no use. I just couldn't accommodate his organ no matter how hard I clenched my teeth together and tried to stay quiet. Finally, I said, 'Wes, it's no use. I just can't stand it. Maybe I'm abnormally small back there or something--I don't know. But I just can't bear it. Come on, can't we just do it the same as always?'
"Wes mumbled his okay, so we went ahead and fucked normally, but I could tell he was disappointed. You'd think my asshole meant more to him than anything in the world. He came fairly soon, but I was so upset at his attitude I couldn't manage an orgasm. Afterwards, he sulked like a little boy. He refused to carry on a civil conversation with me, and just mumbled yes and no to my questions. Finally, I gave up on him and asked him to drive me home.
"Things weren't the same between us after that. We tried several times to make love anally, but each time I had to make him stop because of the pain. And I really tried, too. Once he even had his cock halfway inside my rear before I made him stop. Our relationship steadily worsened. I tried to make up for my inability at anal love by sucking his organ and doing all the 'extras' he had loved before. But they didn't make a bit of difference. It seemed that if he couldn't fuck my ass I was of no use to him at all.
"I'm quite sure our relationship would have ended in a matter of weeks, even days, if it hadn't been for the party we attended at some friend's house about then. As usual, he was asked to hypnotize a few of the guests. Wes agreed, and, of course, he was the hit of the party. He had one of the girls take practically all her clothes off and walk around on all fours like a dog, which she thought she was. Wes had a guy who thought he was a female opera singer singing like she was at Lincoln Center. The evening was one of the funniest any of us could remember. As Wes and I left the party I thought he was in good spirits. The opposite was true, though, and I soon realized that he was behaving like a spoiled, rejected child. By the time we'd reached his place, he'd become impossible. I nearly told him to forget our 'conventional sex' if ass-fucking was the only thing that was going to make him happy. In fact, I did make a side remark once we were undressed and lying naked in his bed. I realized it was a stupid thing to say just before making love, but I was through with his sulking and halfhearted lovemaking during those previous weeks. I remember blurting out, 'You're not doing me a favor, you know. If ordinary sex with me bores you so much, why don't we just forget the whole thing?'
"He seemed stunned at my outburst, because I had managed to control my real feelings up to that time, but then he smiled and pleasantly suggested we go into the living room and chat for a while. The change in him was remarkable, and I thought maybe at last I'd won him over and would start seeing the old Wesley I knew. Looking back, I now know, of course, that he was being very clever. We chatted as we sat there on his couch in the nude, and when he suggested I let him hypnotize me, it didn't occur to me that he might have anything devious in mind. We'd been talking about the party and how funny the people he'd hypnotized had acted-and, well, I'm not the suspicious type anyway and he had hypnotized me before, so I agreed. Just before he began to start my trance state, I did say to him, 'I don't know if I should let you hypnotize me when I'm naked this way, Wes. You might just try and stuff that big thing of yours someplace it doesn't belong."
"Wes just laughed good-naturedly as though that were the furthest thing from his mind. 'No, I'm afraid we've already proved that it wouldn't fit,' he said, grinning.
"Really though, I wasn't afraid. For one thing, Wes had told me people under the influence of hypnosis won't do anything they wouldn't ordinarily do-not if it is something that goes against their firm convictions or moral beliefs. I'd heard that somewhere else, too. Besides, I was sure Wes wouldn't deceive me in something this personal between us. I didn't realize that there are ways of tricking people into doing things while in a hypnotic trance.
"At any rate, I let Wes hypnotize me there on the couch. I expected to wake up feeling fine and less hungry for sweets than ever. You see, I have a tendency to put on weight, and Wes claimed he would tell me I wouldn't crave fattening foods while I was hypnotized. So I was motivated by a desire to retain my trim figure. Again, this was all very clever of Wes.
"To make a long story short, the next thing I knew I was lying flat on my stomach in the bedroom with Wesley's hard prick all the way up my ass. He was huffing and puffing insanely while slamming his enormous hunk of gristle in and out of my asshole. He kept telling me how much I loved what he was doing. 'You love getting fucked this way,' he was saying. 'You've always wanted Wesley's cock in your asshole ... even now you realize that you want to have sex with Wes from now on in exactly this manner. You're completely relaxed and in a pleasant sleep as you enjoy Wes fucking your butt. From now on butt-fucking is going to be your favorite way to have sex ... you will ask Wes to make love to you this way. You feel no pain whatsoever, Angie ... none at all."
"Yes, that's what I first heard as I came out of my trance-Wes was chanting those words-and oddly enough, although he was really slamming his code into my rear, it didn't hurt-it actually felt good.
"When I first came out of my trance and realized what was happening, I was tempted to tell Wes I hated him for tricking me, to tell him to pull his prick out of my ass and take me home. But how can you tell somebody to stop doing something to you that feels better than anything you've ever experienced? Wes had greased me up thoroughly with cold cream-he was rubbing my clitoris at the same time he was slamming his organ to me. I was just about to come and squealing like a stuck pig. I heard myself crying out: 'Oh, yes, I love it up there in my ass, Wes. I always want your prick in my rear ... always. Fuck me. Fuck my ass!'
"I was no longer hypnotized. I was telling the truth. I'd had plenty of orgasms before, but up until that moment no orgasm had ever felt quite like the one I felt coming on. It was deeper and more intense than anything I'd ever dreamed possible. Instead of being concentrated mostly around my genital area, my whole body was shuddering from the effects of his thunderous and mighty stabbings into my very bowels. Wes sensed my ecstasy, and drove even harder. 'You love it now that you've really tried it, don't you, honey? You adore my meat right up your rear end, right? Huh?'
"'Oh, yes!' I screamed. 'Don't stop! Don't ever stop! I'm going to come pretty soon, and it's the most fantastic sensation of my life. Ohhhhhhh...."
Wesley's finger moved like a vibrator against my clit, and his other hand tugged against my hip, holding me in position while he crashed his own hips against mine, driving deeper and deeper and deeper into my rear channel. I arched my back, grateful for every delicious probe of his flesh spear. To think that he was stabbing new territory, touching new and unexplored parts of my body that had never before been touched by anything. Wesley's prick was, in a sense, taking my virginity-opening up an entire new area of sexual experience for me. I fucked and yelled like a tigress as he gave me the most pleasure I'd ever known.
"On and on it went, until I didn't think I could endure the wonder and pleasure of ass-fucking any longer. Yes, I knew at that moment that I was not only a convert, but that I was hopelessly doomed to be an ass-fuck addict for the rest of my life. And then, my orgasm began mounting, spreading throughout my arms and legs from my cunt, and making every nerve in my body tingle and vibrate. It was as though a huge ocean wave swelled, gained in proportion, and finally burst crashing on the shore of heaven. His finger on my clit rubbed insanely, while his cock filled my clenching asshole. I screamed hysterically as I peaked, and then fell facedown onto the mattress, sobbing for minutes in hopeless gratitude for what had just struck my body. I trembled as I lay there for what seemed hours, my body wracked with involuntary tremors as I shuddered out the aftermath of my orgasm..
"Finally, Wes turned me over on my side and said, 'Angie, you will awake from your sleep now and remember nothing that's happened.
In the case of Angie, many factors have obviously combined to prevent any simple explanation for her newly discovered preference for anal intercourse. Most partners in the area of psychosexual matters agree that orgasm is something that should be allowed to happen, and enjoyed if and when it does.
But Angie envisions herself as a kind of anal-intercourse addict, because she has obtained a greater "kick" from this variety of sexual intercourse than from any other ever before. Probably too many people, even people who can let music happen or not happen, cannot seem to avoid meddling with orgasms. The most common example of this can be observed in those who seek reassurance of masculinity or femininity-people who try to be more masculine or feminine by having more and better orgasms. Still others view orgasms as "experiences" or "trips"-something to be strived for rather than just happening. In such instances, the orgasm becomes a production, something to be accompanied by acrobatic thrusts. Worse, an orgasm can be regarded as a trophy or a gift: "Boy, did I ever make her come," or "I thought I'd go up through the ceiling when it happened."
No one would deny that intense orgasms are preferable to weak ones, but emphasis on intensity alone tends to be self-defeating. Even in articles written by professionals there is an air of pride when the writer states: "When Mrs. X followed my instructions, she attained a splendid orgasm." Other experts regard orgasm as comfort, relief or a mere reflex, and totally disregard the aspect of pleasure. Angie's newly found method of orgasm transcends the traditional methods of classification in that it is directly linked with so-called deviant sexual intercourse. In further discussions with Angie, many personal characteristics emerge, bearing a marked resemblance to the classical anal personality: (I) Angie spoke of her need for a high degree of orderliness, both at home and in the office where she worked as a secretary; (2) Angie prided herself on physical hygiene, reliability and conscientiousness; (3) Angie proved to be an extremely frugal girl and skimped in order to make regular deposits in her savings account; (4) she treasured her collection of personal letters and childhood scrapbooks; and (5) politically she was intensely conservative, with her prime hobbies being painting and the preparation of gourmet foods.
Angie's characteristics so closely parallel those of the classical "anal personality," that it is a wonder the symptoms did not become overt sooner in life. Consider the following quote from Dr. Joseph Jastrow's book Freud: His Dream and Sex Theories, bearing in mind Angie's possessiveness regarding Wesley:
A general ego attitude of possessiveness and proprietorship is an outstanding characteristic of object relationships, as found with the anal character. This is to be traced back to the original psychic pleasure in retention. Anal love also expresses itself by collecting objects associated with excrement. The pleasure of looking at one's own creations, letters, manuscripts, or completed work of all kinds has its prototype in looking at one's own face.
Thrift as anal/erotic trait can only be understood by taking into account the underlying process of symbolization. The unconscious identifying process influences many later social relations involving money. Dislike for waste marks the "anal" person. ... The conservative is an "anal," the liberal an "oral." Sublimation plays a large part in taking care of infantile coprophilic interests and impulses which are, of course, especially taboo with adults. Later interests in painting, sculpture, cooking and carpentry are believed to be traceable to coprophilic pleasure in smearing and molding. The choice of occupations and professions is thus largely dependent upon the process of sublimation of anal interests.
In short, at the time of her affair with Wesley, Angie was an anal prototype. In addition, despite her protests to Wesley, there was a strong tendency toward masochism which is often linked to anal intercourse or pederasty. In his Psychopathia Sexualis, Krafft-Ebing states:
Between masochism and reflex flagellation, there is a relation somewhat analogous to that existing between inverted sexual instinct and acquired pederasty....
Finally, authorities have speculated that its origin came as the result of the disparity between the relatively small male and the relatively large female organs of copulation. Some people even argued that the anus is better adapted to intercourse than the vagina due to superior friction. Wesley's preference is, no doubt, grounded equally in psychological origins as it is in physiological ones.
"I have many faults, I suppose, but one of my good points is that I'm an absolutely compulsive teller of the truth. After such a miraculous orgasm, I just couldn't lie to Wes. Besides, why should I? Getting fucked in the ass had been the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me. I interrupted him as he was telling me to emerge from my trance. 'Wes,' I said, 'that won't be necessary. I came out of the trance for some reason right in the middle of the whole episode-and loved it. I am aware of exactly what happened."
"Wes seemed stunned and slightly fearful at being discovered and scolded. 'What are you talking about?' he asked. 'I don't know what you mean.' I took him in my arms and kissed him all over his wonderful face. 'Oh, Wes! Don't you understand what I'm saying? Why should I lie-to you? I actually came out of the hypnotic trance while you were screwing me in my bottom, and it felt so good I couldn't stop you. I was upset that you'd tricked me, I guess, but believe me I couldn't have faked an orgasm like that. You were right. There's nothing like ass-fucking. Now I understand what you were trying to tell me."
"He beamed and showered me with kisses, too. I was his new convert, and he embraced me with all the zeal of the patient instructor who has finally been rewarded with a prize pupil. 'Angie,' he said, 'I can't believe it. It's too good to be true. Everything is going to be wonderful between us from now on."
"I wish I could say that his happy prediction for the future turned out to be true, but it didn't, in spite of our newfound sexual compatibility. In fact, it saddens me even now to think of our parting, because I still think of that period between breaking off with Wes and starting up relations-intimate ones-with other men as the most difficult time of my life. There I was, after discovering the most exquisite sex imaginable with Wes, and all of a sudden I found myself faced with dating new men who didn't understand my anal needs.
"Many people believe that men are not particular when it comes to sex-at least not as fussy about who they make love to and how. Let me tell you, however, that it isn't quite as easy to find a man who shares and understands a woman's desire for anal sex as you might think. I soon learned that many men are turned off, as they say, by this kind of lovemaking. Some consider a girl who longs for ass-fucking dirty or perverted. She just has to wait for the right man to come along and pretend that conventional sex is enough for her in the interim. Also, she has to approach the subject very delicately with her dates. I mean, you can't just say to a man, 'I'd rather you stick your prick in my rear than in my pussy.' A man has an easier time of playing the role of instructor, but a woman has to be very devious and subtle unless she's the sort who frequents orgies or advertises in those grotesque underground newspapers. I'm just not that kind of girl, so you can see I had a considerable problem finding the kind of men I needed. Ironically, I was placed in the same position as Wes when he'd first met me. He had to approach the subject of anal sex, then gradually indoctrinate me, finally even resorting to hypnosis. Now our roles had switched, but unfortunately I'm not a hypnotist.
"But I'm getting ahead of myself here. First, I should tell you how Wes and I came to part. It happened one night at one of those company parties. The hostess, Shirley, was married to the personnel manager. She was a blonde in her early thirties, very sexy, and, as I found out later, quite promiscuous. Jim, her husband, would probably divorce her if he knew about what happened that night, but, of course, he doesn't so Jim and Shirley are still presumably happily married.
"I should let you know, right now, that while I'm not a prude I am insanely jealous-I don't believe in playing around with other women's husbands. I may have a healthy sexual appetite and a most unusual preference in my sexual taste, but I draw the line when it comes to infidelity-even between a man and woman who are just 'going together.' So as far as I was concerned Wes and I were through the night I went out into Shirley's backyard and caught them making love. They had pulled a lounge chair away from the view of the patio and were really having a time of it. I stumbled into them completely by accident, but stepped back behind a large oak tree where I could watch and listen in the shadows. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. Wes, it seemed, didn't care whose ass he fucked-one seemed to suit him just as well as another, including my own. I wanted to vomit as I heard him say to Shirley the same words of love he'd told me. As though compelled to go on watching, I stayed right where I was and witnessed the whole scene.
"They were lying there in the semidarkness. Wes's pants were down to his knees. Shirley's blouse was pushed up to her neck, and her skirt was crumpled around her waist. Their mouths were passionately locked together, and they were both breathing hard. Shirley's long blonde hair was shiny in the summer moonlight. I resented her beauty, even though she is older than I. She suddenly tore her mouth from Wes's. Even in the dim light I could see Wes's prick standing at full attention while his hands roamed over her ass and breasts. 'I'm not trying to act coy at a time like this,' Shirley said, 'but I am worried about my husband or that girl friend of yours stumbling upon us this way."
"Wes kissed her cheeks and brushed her bangs back from her forehead. It was easy to tell that they were both fairly drunk. 'Don't worry about 'em,' he mumbled. 'Angie's just a little flirt, and your old man's probably laying some other girl in one of the back rooms."
"Shirley giggled stupidly. 'You're probably right. Ummm, I love your nice, hard prickie-poo, Wes. I love it when a man's thingie gets super hard. Husbands can sometimes be very disappointing in the hardness department."
"Wes poked his prick harder into her stomach. 'That's because it wants just you, Shirley. It wants to be inside you everywhere, and I do mean everywhere.' I know exactly what Wes meant by everywhere, although I doubt if Shirley did. 'I don't see how you can say your prick just wants me, Wes. What about that teen-age girl friend of yours?'
"Wes nibbled at Shirley's ear. 'That's just what she is, Shirley, a teen-ager. Let's not even discuss her. When I'm with a real woman like you I don't like to talk about amateur lovers.' I could have hit Wes right then, but instead I stayed where I was, and went on quietly observing.
"Shirley seemed pleased with his praise, but confused by the conflicting emotions that warred within her. She clasped Wes's prick hard again and began jacking him off as he watched and fondled her breasts and pussy. 'The night air has made your hard cock cool,' Shirley slurred. 'Tell me, is Angie this good at playing with you-doing all the nice things to you? '
"Wes moaned. 'No, not like this. Never like this, Shirley."
"'I guessed she'd probably be lacking in experience,' Shirley said. 'Does she suck your cock for you, Wes?'
"'Yes,' Wes whimpered, thrusting his hips in a steady rhythmic tempo into her encircling hand. 'Well, sort of. She does the best she can for a youngster."
"That dirty bastard, I thought. After all the times I'd sucked on his rod for hours as we'd sixty-nine-how dare he say something like that to that tramp. She scooted downward now, kissing Wes's bare stomach as she licked and whimpered unintelligibly. She was in that state of wanton drunkenness some women get into and Wes seemed to sense it, for he palmed her cheek aggressively, obviously awaiting the feast to come. 'No one can suck a cock as good as I can, Wes,' Shirley muttered. 'Just relax and lie back. That's it. Let me show you what a real woman's tongue can do. Ummm, is your cock ever beautiful in the moonlight, sweetheart. Just gorgeous. You want Shirley's tongue to wrap around your hot meat, don't you?'
"At that instant, I despised Shirley as much as a woman can despise another woman, but I simply could not force myself to leave. Drunk or not, I wanted to see just how far she'd go. I had to stay. 'Tell me you want me to kiss it,' Shirley said. 'Tell me you know that I can suck your cock better than Angie or anybody. Come on, Wes. Don't you want me to suck it nice for you? I want to hear you tell me. I want to hear the words."
"The look of anticipation on Wes's face was disgusting. 'Yes, yes,' he rasped. 'I know you can suck it better than anybody and I want you to suck it. Go ahead and kiss it. Suck it. Hurry."
"Shirley tantalized Wes some more, kneading his balls and licking his stomach for a few minutes, intensifying his desire, preparing him, as she continued to suck his stout rod. 'Go on,' Wes cried. 'Do it before I go crazy. Hurry.' Shirley let her tongue dart about the bulbous head for an instant. 'Yes, love,' she said, her eyes glazed. 'Yes, Wes,' and then her voice became a muffled gurgle as her lips took in the top of Wes's prick. The sound of Shirley's saliva mingled with Wes's frenzied whimpers of appreciation as the mouth that had given promise now began delivering heat and friction to Wes's engorged member. As she worked expertly, Shirley's little whinings became short grunts.
"I watched Shirley's expertise in awe. With one hand she moved her fingers in a groping, circular movement over his testicles, and with the other she jerked at the base of Wes's organ as she sucked with a fury. She worked primarily on and around the top of his foreskin and the head, only occasionally dipping to take in nearly the entire length of Wes's shaft. Wes hunched forward in a near-fetal position, watching her mouth against his prick and clutching her head in his hands. 'Right on,' he groaned, spurring her on to greater effort. 'Right on. Oh, baby, can you suck a cock. Suck it good, Shirley!' His voice was a hoarse and lustful moan in the still summer night, and when she stopped abruptly, sensing his impending orgasm, he twitched as his prick once again felt cool air instead of the solace of Shirley's hot mouth. 'We have to save you, Wes,' she said, almost sadistically. 'Not that I wouldn't like to swallow your come, my sweet. But after all I want you to suck mine a little, too. My dear hubby has become very remiss in that department, and I could use a little cunt-chewing. You don't mind, do you? Take a little break so you won't come too soon, and chew my pussy a little. All right? And then we'll fuck."
"Few women would have put such a request so bluntly, I suppose, but that's exactly what Shirley said. I hoped his prick against the cool night air reminded him of how pleasant it had been for him the many times we'd sixty-nined together. I would never have asked a man to simply stop in such an event. Men are funny. Once they find heat with their cocks, I figure, they want to stay where it's nice and warm until they come. In other words, from mouth to cunt, or from cunt to mouth; a man does not like his tool just hanging in the breeze even if he does love sucking pussy.
"At any rate, Wes did the best he could under the circumstances. He slowly slipped her panties down, tugging caressingly at the elastic while he told her what he planned to do. That was one of his favorite techniques-talking to a girl while he prepared her and aroused her. He told her how good it would feel, and how much he wanted to taste and inhale her cunt. When he had her panties off, he scooted down and began licking her knees, her thighs, avoiding for the moment her eager cunt. I recognized the phrases he used. I'd learned them by heart. He wanted to drive Shirley right out of her mind the same way he'd so often done to me.
"Shirley was obviously no newcomer to lovemaking, but she was responding to his skilled technique. Her tummy was caving in and pushing out, and her big breasts were heaving. You could tell that she was really craving Wes's tongue, really wanted it right in her snatch. Soon he was nuzzling in her pubic mound while his hands still squeezed her tits. Then, as his tongue really settled down to the business of laving her love crack, his hands moved down to her pumping ass to give him leverage. In a way, at that moment I envied Shirley, because I knew he was allowing his long tongue to dart about her labia teasingly, tantalizingly, so that her love juice-if she was anything like me-was probably running down her buttocks and drenching whatever was beneath her. Soon, Wes had taken both lips of her gushing cunt in his mouth so that his lips were stretched over her entire pubic area while he ran his tongue up and down the length of her hot chasm.
"I knew from experience what would come next. Wes would begin toying with her anus as he worked with his tongue. His finger would daintily begin intruding into her rear. I couldn't see everything from my vantage point, but Wes must have begun concentrating on Shirley's clit, because her squeals became more intense as she was transported into that beautiful land of anticipation that only females truly understand. Men like to have their cocks sucked, sure, but I seriously doubt if this compares to the sensation a woman experiences when a man really 'goes down' on her.
"Shirley began tearing at Wes's hair at this point, gasping in total and utter need of fulfillment. She began driving her pelvis hard, and although Wes is primarily an 'ass man' he seemed to love delivering what she had to have. Several times as her legs flailed the air I was able to see Wes's finger inserted in her rectum, wiggling back and forth, tickling and preparing her for his true goal while his tongue kept working on her clit.
"Her cries rose even louder than before, piercing and crashing into the night. She screamed pitifully. She lifted his head from between her legs and begged him to stop. The rotten bitch said then that she had come twice and couldn't come anymore. Wes crawled up again beside her, his face glistening in the moonlight with cunt juice, and she kissed his cheeks with grateful kisses.
"Flop over on your stomach,' Wes said considerately, and I'll rub your back until you calm down enough for us to fuck." I still don't know if Shirley had ever been fucked in the ass before, but if she didn't know what to expect I did. His request for her to lie on her stomach meant one thing! The back rub would only be a preliminary. He planned to stick her right in the butt.
"Wes didn't waste any time getting to the area of his interest. What started out as a back rub quickly became an ass rub. He massaged the cheeks of her ass and kissed her bottom just as he'd always done with me. He was squeezing each bun of her ass hard in his hands and staring down at his prize. I was anxious to actually observe what would come next. Wes had fucked me lots of times in the rear, of course, but I'd never really seen anybody else screw.
"Shirley reached back and grabbed Wes's cock with her right hand. 'You're such a patient lover,' she complimented. 'Your poor, throbbing, stiff prick must just be aching for my cunt. You've waited so long. Well, my sweet, you can fuck me any time you want. Go ahead and put it in."
"I leaned closer to see just where Wes would begin. I was surprised to observe that he seemed to be starting out at least with Shirley's pussy rather than just jamming his ramrod up her ass. He did manipulate her ass cheeks, though, as he inserted his prick slowly into her cunt, which enabled him to view her asshole.
"'Marvelous, darling,' Shirley cooed, arching her back as Wes fed her his prick very rhythmically dog-style. 'I can feel you all the way up to my navel. Beautiful ... beautiful ... fuck me ... yes, fuck me. And your finger up my ass feels good, too. It's heavenly having your cock in my cunt and your finger in my rear and you rubbing my love button at the same time. Three things at once. Oh, Wes . ... '
"Wes began finger-fucking her asshole as he fucked her pussy. Her moaning began low and then rose, just as it had when he had brought her to climax before with his mouth. 'I'm going to stick my cock right up your ass-right in your back alley-and fuck you there,' Wes said without warning. 'Yes, I'm going to fuck your beautiful asshole. Ever had a cock inside your butt before?'
"Shirley seemed to have a hard time answering. She was carried away with the mixture of sensations assailing her body. 'Not for a long time. Are you sure you really want to? My pussy's fine with me, but if you really want to . ... '
"Wes withdrew his glistening shaft and poked it at the smaller hole he'd been patiently waiting to fuck. 'Yes, I really want to, Shirley. Even if it hurts a little at first I don't want you to make a sound. Remember, there are people who might hear you, so just bite your lip if you have to, understand?'
"Suddenly I understood that Wes had Shirley completely at his mercy. Even if she was unwilling to have his pole up her rear there wasn't much she could do to prevent it. She couldn't raise a commotion while fucking another man in her husband's backyard, and I knew Wes wasn't about to let her go. Yes, I was sure he was obviously deriving a sadistic satisfaction out of fucking her in the ass precisely the way he wanted, which, as it turned out, was not the gentle way he'd always begun with me. Without benefit of Vaseline or cold cream-just whatever natural lubricant was present-Wes suddenly drew back his hips, and, with one mighty thrust, sank his prick into Shirley's asshole right to the hilt.
"Shirley bit the back of her hand to muffle a cry of anguish, but the scream was quite loud. 'Oh, why so hard, Wes! Shit! Please. Easy. Not so hard, please. Won't you please go easy?' She was crying now and, for her sake, I was glad she had at least the alcohol from the drinks to help her dull the pain. Wes was in his sadistic glory-a way I'd never seen him before. He didn't even bother to tickle her clit as he pounded her rectum. He held her hips in his strong hands and penetrated her asshole brutally-in and out-while his eyes gleamed in response to poor Shirley's protests.
"He looked as if he'd never stop. 'There, there!' he grunted, hissing savagely. 'How do you like it up there, huh? Ramming you. Ramming your ass, baby! Take that and that and that....' He was practically raping Shirley, and I thought he'd never stop. Finally, though, he could hold back no longer, so he drove furiously and viciously as his hands tore at Shirley's buttocks until his hot load emptied into her bowels, and he collapsed on top of her pain-wracked body with all his weight.
"Even if I hadn't caught him having sex with another woman, the sadistic display I'd just witnessed made it impossible for me to see Wes again. I never explained, nor told him what I knew. I just cut off our relationship cold. He tried to see me, even hounded me. I have to admit that without the kind of loving he'd accustomed me to I was desperate, and very nearly yielded on several occasions just to soothe my sex-starved body. A couple of times I even masturbated and at the same time inserted objects up my rectum to simulate anal intercourse, but it wasn't really satisfying.
"I quit my job after several weeks and took another job. My dates after that proved almost catastrophic. I'd find a man I liked, and I'd have sex with him, but I just couldn't tell him how to give me what I needed. I even resorted to 'hinting,' and several times while having normal intercourse I'd guide a guy's organ farther down so that it contacted my ass. One man did fuck me the way I wanted, but he had no class and actually hurt me. Another found the idea repulsive and never saw me again. On other occasions, too, I either seemed to repulse men with my need to have a cock in my ass or else to find men who went crazy and became almost as sadistic as Wes had been with Shirley that night. I don't understand why a man would want to hurt a girl, become a Frankenstein when fucking in the ass, and still remain reasonably considerate when fucking the pussy. I just don't know what to do."
Here is a girl who has discovered that she can obtain true sexual gratification only through the practice of anal intercourse. While she is able to have orgasms from conventional intercourse, she is not content with them because, by comparison, they "lack intensity."
One might say that Angie has two choices. Either she must reconcile herself to lesser sexual pleasure and adjust to the sexual habits of the "average" man, thus easing her feelings of being an outcast, or she must continue to endure the frustration and self-depreciation to which the pursuit of anal intercourse with men has brought her thus far. The alternative of seeking out a specialized or so-called "perverse" group of men and women who share her sexual goal does not seem to be the answer, particularly for a girl with the sensitivity and upbringing of the subject. At present, this would seem to be the only avenue open to Angie if her anal obsession is as pronounced as she describes.
CONCLUSION
As stated at the outset of this book, the word aggression carried many conflicting connotations, depending upon the context in which it is used. It may be either a desirable or an undesirable quality or state depending upon the point of view of the interpreter. Semantic puzzles aside, we can safely state that the word "aggressive" is generally conceded to be a plus when applied to the male. Particularly in his sexual contact with females, aggression or "taking the initiative" is applauded in Western society, and, when applied reasonably according to certain prescribed rules, is considered masculine and appropriate.
In these case histories, instances have been seen in which males have not employed aggression toward women according to accepted standards, and in several cases, ironically, the females have demonstrated themselves to be most adept at seizing the initiative themselves. Inevitably, too, the case histories overlapped into areas outside the subject of aggression, and entered the realm of sexual deviation-analism, oralism, incest, troilism. In the main, however, all the case histories treated related to sexually aggressive behavior in the American male in one form or another.
The men of which these women spoke are presumably somewhat representative of males in this country today. It is, therefore, safe to deduce that so-called "typical" males in the United States are exerting a considerable amount of undue-even criminal-aggressiveness in their sexual relations.
It is possible to make some generalizations regarding the aggressive male behavior in each of the five case histories:(I) each male exploited the subjects in question, leaving them with somewhat indelible sexual scars-most obvious, of course, is the rapist and the hypnotist; (2) while even in the less pronounced instances of hyper aggression, the five males involved exceeded the limits of normal male initiative; and (3) the female subjects all possessed, to one degree or another, prior weaknesses or latent subconscious urges which contributed to the severity of their reactions.
With aggression appearing frequently in our society and a leering preoccupation with erotic love for its own sake seemingly to flourish, it seems appropriate to quote a prescription for love voiced by Erich Fromm in his The Art of Loving:
Sexual desire aims at fusion-and is by no means only a physical appetite, the relief of a painful tension. But sexual desire can be stimulated by the anxiety of aloneness, by the wish to conquer or be conquered, by vanity, by the wish to hurt and even to destroy, as much as it can be stimulated by love. It seems that sexual desire can easily blend with and be stimulated by any strong emotion, of which love is only one. Because sexual desire is in the minds of most people coupled with the idea of love, they are easily misled to conclude that they love each other when they want each other physically. Love can inspire the wish for sexual union; in this case the physical relationship is lacking in greediness, in a wish to conquer or be conquered, but is blended with tenderness.
If the desire for physical union is not stimulated by love, if erotic love is not also brotherly love, it never leads to union in more than an orgiastic, transitory sense. Sexual attraction creates, for the moment, the illusion of union, yet without love "union" leaves strangers as far apart as they were before-sometimes it makes them ashamed of each other, or even makes them hate each other, because when the illusion has gone they feel their estrangement even more markedly than before. Tenderness is by no means, as Freud believed, a sublimation of the sexual instinct.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Berne, Eric. Sex in Human Loving. New York: Simon & Schuster, Inc., 1970.
Freud, Sigmund. Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality. New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1962.
Fromm, Erich. The Art of Human Loving. New York: Harper and Row, Inc., 1956.
Jastrow, Joseph. Freud: His Dream and Sex Theories. New York: Chilton Publishing, 1932.
Krafft-Ebing, Richard von. Psychopathia Sexualis. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1965.
Masters, R.E.L. Forbidden Sexuality and Morality. New York: Julian Press, Inc., 1962. Sexual Obsession. New York: Chilton Publishing, Inc., 1932.
Masters, Wm., and Johnson, V. Human Sexual Response. Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 1968.
Reuben, David. Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex--But Were Afraid to Ask. New York: David McKay Company, Inc. 1969.
