Keywords: M/F, M+/F, anal, oral, mc (nc)
Author: W R Jenkins
Title: I Didn't Want To

  Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal.
 This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are 
under 18- 21 in some localities  If you are underage you must leave 
now. If you're young and curious, this is not the place to get the 
straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange 
and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this 
stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral 
climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories. 
They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be 
pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so
we can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain, 
despair or humiliation. End Sermon.

	I Didn't Want To (dintwant.txt) - Different strokes for different
mind-controllers. Harold is interested in end results. He just wants
the women he chooses to fuck him. There's no motive of revenge or need
for them to struggle against the control. He wants what he wants and
they can deal with it however they want. Poor Marcy doesn't know what
hit her. M/F, M+/F, oral, anal, mc(nc)



			 I Didn't Want To

	The trouble is I acted like it was my idea. It couldn't have been.
I am not that way. I don't understand what happened, but I didn't want
to do it.
	I was a horrified spectator. Worse, I knew what was coming and
had to watch and feel as this strange thing came into my head and then
became real. I couldn't explain what was happening even if I knew
what was coming before it happened.
	I knew old skinny Harold from high school. I guess it's a mean
way to refer to him, but Harold called himself old skinny Harold too.
However it started out, it had lost its pejorative edge by high school. 
	He had dropped the 'old skinny' after graduation. He was a
brainiac involved in some research at the clinic, but not like a doctor.
It was something about cyber-people, using smart machines to make up
for handicaps like spinal cord injuries and such.
	I didn't talk about that much with him. My encounter with Harold
had an entirely different twist. I'm not even sure how to say it.
	I know what Harold would say. Harold made me his bitch.
	I came on to him. I don't know why, but I did. I asked if I could
visit him. I asked what he thought was the most sexy part of a girl.
	"Buttocks," he said. "Toned and taut, firm and round, buttocks
for sure."
	I was very calm at that. I had asked. I put this information to
use by picking the shortest, tightest skirt I owned. In fact it was
one I had worn in eighth grade and much too small for me now.
	"Do you like this old skirt?" I asked, unaccountably wiggling my
rear in his face.
	"It looks good on you," Harold said. "I think girls like you 
should dress like that all the time."
	"Girls like me?" I questioned.
	"Girls with nice firm asses like you," Harold said. "Who wants
to see some fat ass in a tight skirt?"
	Who wanted to see a nice firm ass like mine in a tight skirt?
Wouldn't it be nicer to see a nice firm ass in the flesh? Then you could
touch it, tickle it, even kiss it.
	"Don't you like breasts?" I asked Harold.
	"Of course, all men do," he said. "Breasts remind them of
buttocks."
	Well, breasts were very different than buttocks. Harold needed an
anatomy lesson. I had all the requisite parts and decided to show him.
	"But don't you think breasts are too pointy to remind you of
buttocks?" I asked as I prepared to take off my bra and show him.
	It seemed so normal until I realized it wasn't. At least it wasn't
normal for me to take off my clothes in front of Harold. The right
person at the right time would be normal.
	I was modeling my naked breasts for Harold before I even began to
unknot that question of normal. I wanted him to see that breasts were
not like buttocks. I wasn't sure why he had to see my breasts, but I
had them out.
	"They feel so different," I said, demonstrating on myself before
bending forward to let Harold have a turn.
	His hands felt very nice on my breasts. He wasn't mean or rough.
He was fondling my breasts and I didn't know why. I had offered them to
him, so maybe he was being polite, but I didn't know why I had leaned
over so he could touch them any more than I knew why I had taken off
my blouse.
	I knew I was going to take off my skirt so he could compare
before my hands went to the button and the zipper. That was very out of
line. I wasn't the kind of girl to be this brazen even if I was with
an intimate partner.
	I might allow that lover to undress me, but I wouldn't strip
right in his face. Harold was far from that intimate acquaintance. This
was in the second hour since I had met him after five years apart. Yet
my fingers worked the closures and I was struggling out of the
too-tight skirt.
	My underwear didn't survive the removal and I was totally naked
while Harold looked up at me from the sofa. It was bizarre. I had all
but made him fondle my breasts and now I was turning, bent slightly
forward, for him to repeat the exploration of my buttocks.
	"Now isn't that different?" I asked as I inexplicably offered
my rear for him to feel.
	I felt trapped in my own mind. It was only a corner that was
functioning normally. I knew that because I was displaying myself for
Harold and not cringing. My position afforded him a teasing, but 
unrestricted view of everything. I wasn't even blushing.
	That was not possible for me. I'm shy about my body even in front
of other women. And here I was with Harold's hands on my rear and not
reacting at all.
	Harold was nice about it. He simple stroked my buttocks like he
had my breasts and didn't go near either orifice hidden in the folds.
He was the one whose touch felt, if not timid, then careful as he
touched my buttocks.
	Or maybe he was being patient. So far, I had come at him like a
whirlwind. From the available evidence, my going further was a good
hypothesis and Harold was a scientist.
	I felt the inevitability myself. My reasoning followed the same
course as I assume Harold's did and my gut told me it was a certainty.
I was going to do everything with Harold. I was going to keep throwing 
myself at him until he had used me in every way a man can use a woman.
	It was inevitable. Somehow that released the tension of my
baffling compulsion. It was going to happen. I could rage crazily or
I could make the best of my fate. I gave up responsibility and went
along for the ride.
	"Oh goodness! Did I do that?" my mouth asked Harold coyly as my
hand found the thick bulge in his crotch.
	I pulled his left hand up to my breast. He had one hand on a
buttock and one hand on a breast. I was stroking his erection. It was
wild to watch, especially when it was me doing it. I knew it wasn't
my idea. I could never think up things like that.
	"Can you feel the difference now?" I asked Harold.
	"You are one extremely sexy lady," he answered. "Where are we 
going with this? Because if we're going much farther, I better take
my pants off."
	I knew where this was going. It was pre-ordained. I knew it and
felt it. That made it easy for the words to form in my mouth.
	"We're going to go everywhere a man can go with a woman," my
mouth said. "And we'll go everywhere a woman can go with a man." 
	Harold didn't have to take his pants off. I did it for him. I
was impressed with how smoothly I mastered what usually was a confusing
process for me. I knelt down to pull his pants over his feet and then
I looked up.
	That red-headed rod in front of me triggered its own set of
instructions with its curving prominence. I not only knew I was going
to put it in my mouth, I knew how I was going to suck it.
	It was not a way that I had ever sucked a cock before. I took
the head in my mouth and lavished the roof of my mouth on it. My
tongue licked at the underside as I pressed it to my hard palate.
	I formed my tongue into a trough under his cock and sucked.
Harold was jumpy as I sucked his cock hard.
	"I think we ought to change now or I'll cum," Harold warned.
	I knew the possibility existed for me to make him cum in my
mouth, but that wasn't the way it was going to go. I was going to sit
on his hard, erect cock and fuck him like I had used my mouth.
	Further unreality revealed itself as I squatted over his prick.
For no sufficient reason I was very wet and so receptive. I had not
blushed exposing myself, but I had become excited with no visible means
of stimulation.
	I slid down Harold's cock smoothly but very slowly as if this
was some special treat from my vast repertoire. I didn't know where I
was getting it from. When I settled down on his thighs, my hips
started an undulation culled from this same secret skill menu.
	"Please, Harold, breasts, buttocks, play with something," I
heard myself solicit Harold as I danced my unknown dance on his cock. 
	Lest I forget in my wonder how this unfathomable event could be
taking place, let me mention that I was finding Harold's cock arousing.
Unlike the mysterious excitement that made my sex flow in preparation
for impaling myself on his erection, this was a very normal kind of
cause and effect and the effect was pleasing.
	That said, it was no less mystifying because it gave me pleasure.
I was not one to act this way in any circumstance. It was beyond 
comprehension that I would strip off my clothes and initiate sex with
anyone I had so casually met, even if I did know them in the past.
	I could have been crazy, but I had decided against it already. 
It was against all my principles and character, but it was happening and
it was better to accept it calmly than to kick and scream and have it
happen anyway.
	My hips obviously didn't need my permission to slide up and back
in his lap. They were going to stir his cock inside me and lift and
drop on his hard pole with some unknown direction. Best case I might
learn something, because I was fucking Harold with an ability that I
didn't have, at least never in the past.
	He did touch my breasts. Like before, it was a light, exploring
touch. It was nice once I got past the idea that I was acting like such
a whore for Harold. It was almost good enough to make this strange
situation agreeable. 
	The sex was becoming more than pleasant. I was driving on his cock
with an urgency I didn't really feel, but I was not immune to the
excitement his hardness triggered in me. It was backwards. I fucked him
like I needed it and that made me need it. I cared a little less what
was happening to me in general as I began to care more about the
specific cock fucking my specific pussy.
	"You're going to make me cum," Harold said with a coolness that
sounded unreal in my ears.
	I was the one detached from the proceedings, as well as my own
actions, and I was more invested in the sex than he sounded. My
detachment was becoming a good thing. I didn't have to think about
moving while my hips were on auto-pilot and I could lose myself in
the pleasure his cock was giving me. I didn't have to think about
anything but the rising tide of my arousal.
	I was free of questions, shame and all responsibility as my hips
went in a circle of up, down, back and front and I felt his cock 
jerking inside me. Arousal was flooding out of me like a geyser and
there was no part of my mind exempt from its numbing power.
	I had never cum like that before. It made me think that it was
a good thing even if I had gone insane. It was a total contentment I
had never gained from being the way I was.
	I felt somehow proud, or maybe accomplished. It was a job well 
done. My lack of intention didn't taint that I knew I had performed
the script to the letter. I didn't know the author, but I did know it
was supposed to go just the way it did go.
	I knew what was next, too.
	"You're not done with me yet," I informed Harold. "There are
still a lot more ways to use a woman."
	While we are catching our breath and feeling the sweat dry cold on
our bodies, I want to explain how I knew what was coming. I saw it in
impressions. I felt it like a dream cock in this orifice or that
orifice. It didn't unroll like movie so I could study my movements and
see the acts. I knew in an unspecific way that I would be smothered
in the kind of pleasure Harold's cock had given me and in an escalating
curve.
	Specifically, I knew I was going to kiss Harold deeply and then
trail my mouth down his body until I was kneeling in front of him again
with his cock in my mouth. I knew I would stay there until he had an
erection, but this time my technique had not been transmitted to me.
	This time my head moved without prior warning. I spent a long time
with his whole cock in my mouth moving my face around in his lap. I was
going to be doing something until he got another hard-on, but it was
still a bit boring. I knew it was going to happen anyway, but I was
having a harder time accepting it.
	My climax when we fucked had been at least a tip, if it wasn't 
a pay off. It was rather boring to keep sucking his cock. It didn't 
seem to be doing any good. I could be reading a book or something to
get as much excitement.
	There was a mission, I knew- somehow, but this part was worse
than my crazy slut performance. I was having too much time to wonder
what I was doing. I didn't see how I could have ever come up with this.
It wasn't about me and I'm honest enough to admit how important that 
is in my decisions.
	Harold must have felt the same way. At least he seemed to sense 
the futility of my labors.
	"That doesn't seem to be working. If you don't mind, why don't 
we just kiss for a while," he said.
	Past the stripping naked and having sex with a virtual stranger,
that made me feel normal. It was Harold, never a fantasy of mine, that
I was to kiss, but it was a step up, figuratively and literally, from
sucking his unresponsive cock.
	If that sounds a bit confusing, I've caught the feeling. Bottom
line, it was better than what I was doing. It had to be less boring.
It wasn't much of a choice, but it was the best I had so far.
	As a practical matter it worked. It wasn't very long until Harold
took my hand and put it on his cock. That was a moment of shock since
it was the most overt act he had made. Other than fondling my body
parts when I pushed them at him, it was the only thing he'd done. I'd
done everything else.
	It was too weird. It was almost a boyfriend/girlfriend thing, not
like whatever we were doing before. But his cock was getting hard and
that started the next phase of my insanity. I didn't have to worry
about boyfriend/girlfriend things. I was going to do everything myself.
	It was time to take his cock in my mouth again. It might not
speed him to a solid erection, but it was what was to happen. And I 
was to take him as deep as I could as I sucked him to full stiffness.
	I knew I had to be extra vigilant to make his desire as great
this time as the last. I had to convince him the best was yet to come.
	What the best was, I had no idea. I only knew this was what would
happen. I sucked past any interest on my part but I knew I would not
stop. Whatever had gripped me was not loosening its grip.
	I couldn't have been thinking. The words must have popped out
of inattention. They were words I had never uttered together.
	"You know I'm going to put this in my ass now," I said. "If you
think buttocks are the best part of a woman, you should like that."
	It all felt real. I remembered everything about coming to
Harold's. I remembered unlikely things. Still, I didn't think it was 
a dream. It was the only possible explanation, but I was afraid this
was all too real.
	I couldn't have said what I said. I may have been vaguely aware 
that some men wanted to use the other passage, but it was not a real
idea to me. I never considered, much less wanted anything in my ass.
	"Just wait on that," Harold said. "It's not time yet."
	This was more confusing than asking for it up the ass. It wasn't
time yet. Harold was saving me from myself? I had to hold that thought.
	The reason it wasn't time yet was that Harold's friend hadn't
shown up. I froze like a statue, a naked statue, when I saw him. I
didn't know what to think, which I wasn't getting used to but I was
starting to expect.
	"Hey, man, you're late," Harold greeted him.
	"Believe me, I got here as fast as I could," the other man said.
"I couldn't pass something like this up."
	At least I was something that couldn't be passed up. For all the 
good attitude did me I could be praising him for not staring at me as
he took off his clothes. He didn't pay me any attention. I was like 
meat.
	I didn't have long to abhor his attitude. Duty called. I was back
on my knees leaning into Harold's lap. I was just going to keep his
cock in my mouth and maybe move it a little bit.
	I found out the action was going to be on the other end.
Evidentially my position was prime for the other guy to nuzzle deep into
my crotch. It was not the worst thing that happened to me. Whether or
not I was comfortable with a stranger sticking his tongue in my pussy,
it did have a pay off.
	I wasn't as impressed when he pushed his finger up my ass. It 
was still business according to the new normal. It was happening and
seemingly my only part was to get through it. There were two fingers 
in my pussy and one in my ass and I was sucking Harold's cock.
	It was a scene from a cheap porn movie and I was in it. It felt 
real and couldn't be real. I would never have sex with Harold, whether
I just had or not. I wouldn't even be asked to participate in some
triangular grope-fest. Nobody I knew would ever consider it in reality,
much less think I'd agree.
	My ass was moving independent of everything. The fingers were
charging in and out of me and my ass responded to being filled from
every angle. It felt like I gaped when he finally took his fingers away.
	It was my turn again, following my invisible leader. I did stare
at the new guy as I backed toward Harold's lap. It fit that I'd be
considering something else as I sat down on Harold's cock. I crawled
into a comfortable crouch and started to fuck Harold.
	My pelvis tilted as I moved. I raised straight up and down. I
dropped to mash against Harold's legs in lewd circles. I started at the
other guy. My hips were on a mission of their own. They were fucking 
Harold in ways I didn't know. I was free to look at this stranger.
	"Now's the time," Harold told me.
	As if I knew what I was doing, I lifted clear of his cock and
reached back to move him slightly to the rear. I had no doubt what he
meant. I was only amazed at this display of expertise.
	I settled against the firm projection of his cock and pushed. It
hurt but I didn't stop. I violated the laws of self-preservation as I
forced myself down. It felt like my asshole was splitting as I pushed.
	"No. Wait. We've got to do something about this," Harold said.
	We needed lube. His prick was feeling the pressure of my pushing
and threatening to break. He, at least, was not so fanatic that he 
wanted to experience torment.
	With his cock and my ass greased, the splitting came in chunks as
I forced my ass down on his cock. I felt like an over-inflated balloon
as I dropped lower and more of his cock stuffed into my ass.
	There was no room for this cock but I pressed down. With several
inches impaling me, I bounced on his cock. It felt like I was trying
to surprise myself with the final lunge. I know the part of me that
was aware but not in control dreaded that lunge.
	"Okay, she's open," Harold said to his friend.
	Nothing could be too outrageous now. My body was obedient and my
mind resigned as Harold boosted me up and the new guy pulled me by the
arm. He left Harold room at the end of the sofa and filled the rest
with me. I was squatted down, forearms flat on the arm and my ass
turned up like a receptive bitch.
	It was day and night, hot and cold between these two. Harold sat
and I crawled all over him. I knelt down and sucked Harold, bounced on
his cock. I was the active party. This other guy did things to me. He
started with fingering me and now he was dragging me into position.
	Then I squatted and he pushed his cock into me. It felt more
inevitable and less confusing this way. It did nothing to explain how
any of it happened in the first place, but it seemed somehow more
normal that I would be passive and he would fuck me as he pleased.
	In front of Harold was not normal. Him being a stranger was not
normal. Nothing was normal. It was just more normal that I wasn't 
demonstrating skills and desires I didn't have. Being the passive
receptacle for his deep-driving, butt-slapping fuck strokes was
something even I could do, whether I ever had or not.
	"Can I fuck her ass?" he asked Harold.
	"Why don't you see?" Harold suggested. "You're right there."
	It wanted to say something, but it was apparent I had no lines.
That was the spooky part. I did things on my own. My mouth uttered
words. This new guy put me in position and did what he wanted to me,
but I couldn't say I was forced. Yet it seemed there were things I
wasn't allowed.
	With some perverted logic I wanted to argue that Harold should
fuck me in the ass. He was clearly the main character in whatever I
had gotten into. I had no desire for a cock in my butt, but Harold
should be the one to give it to me if that was what was going to happen.
	Harold's cock had been the first to breach that entry, if that's
the way you keep score, but I had not managed to force his cock all the
way into my ass. Somehow that made sense even though I didn't want any
of it to be happening.
	Of course it didn't matter. The other guy's cock pressed to my
anus and suddenly was inside. It was easier since Harold had loosened
the way. It wasn't so much pain as danger I felt as this cock pressed
deeper up my ass. It felt wrong. It was wrong and then it was every
inch as wrong as it could be.
	He had one knee on the sofa and his foot on the floor so he could
rock his cock in and out of my ass. I felt like an oil well or tunnel 
or something as he kept filling the excavation he had made in my ass.
I was rocking back and forth from the force of his thrusts.
	I didn't know who I was. I didn't bend over to get fucked in the
ass. I didn't do any of the things I had done. I certainly didn't take
it as some stranger slammed his cock up my butt while another man
watched. Whoever was pretending to be me was doing all this like they
had done it many times before. I didn't know who that could be.
	"That's one nice ass," the stranger told Harold. "You ought to
get you some."
	I was the one that responded to that. I tried to get away. I
wasn't trying to escape, only get this man's cock out of my ass. He 
pulled back a bit to let me scramble away. Then I climbed off the sofa,
walked around this man and got back over Harold's lap.
	I guess my supply of horror had been exhausted. I felt more like
laughing as I reached back for Harold's cock and searched for it with
my butt. I was putting on one hell of a show. I knew I couldn't imagine
a more perfect slut, but that wasn't saying much. I was impressed, in 
a perverted way, with the total lack of self-respect I demonstrated.
	Harold's cock actually felt like an old friend as I sat down on
it and it filled up the void left by the other guy's fucking. I moved
up and down on it like I was desperate to make Harold cum. His cock
was going straight up my ass as I slapped my butt down on his legs.
	"That's right, that's right," Harold praised me, "You're good
at that."
	I didn't want to do this. I didn't know what I was doing. His
compliment only made it more confusing. I felt my mind was trapped in
another body, a body that was used to group and anal sex- and good at
it. That wasn't me.
	I was tired of pondering unreality. It was the same frantic
scream over and over. I'm not like this. I don't do this. I don't know
how. It was a kind of relief when the other guy stood over Harold and
pushed his cock in my face.
	My mouth moved toward it. No input was required. I opened my 
mouth wide and moved down this cock until it hit the back of my throat.
My gagging brought appreciative moans from the stranger. It was all
automatic.
	I stopped using that time to spin in confusion. I made my mind
as blank as I could. I let this strange body do what it was going to do.
	I hardly noticed the struggle of the cock trying to invade my
throat. I coughed and choked like I sucked his cock, on auto-pilot.
I had no place to go so I went nowhere. I tried to shut down.
	I couldn't escape my body being pounded. Try as I might to block 
out everything, I still felt Harold's cock ram up my ass and this other
cock fuck my throat. At least I was no longer responsible for impaling
myself on Harold's cock. I rocked a bit between the cocks at either end,
but Harold had taken over thrusting up into my ass.
	"Damn man! I'll never disrespect science again!" the stranger
groaned as he came in my mouth.
	I swallowed. That was like a notation in all the events of the 
day. The man's words were less confusing than my actions, but still too
cryptic for me to guess their meaning. I just squatted there as Harold
drove his cock into my ass.
	Then I knew Harold needed help. I made some kind of backward
jump that I don't understand enough to describe and found myself again
kneeling between Harold's knees. He needed me to suck him off.
	His cock came right out of my ass, but strangely that didn't
bother any part of me. I guess I was numb to all the things happening
to me by now. Instead, I was vaguely interested that I was sucking his
cock like I had the first time.
	The head of his cock was trapped between the roof of my mouth and
my tongue and content with only that partial invasion of my face. I
rocked more than bobbed my head and was quickly 'rewarded' with great
gobs of his sticky semen. I swallowed his too.
	"So, Marcy, do you want to go home now, or would you like to stay
until later?" Harold asked me.
	I didn't know what to say. I had no direction what to say. For
the first time it seemed like Harold was talking to me- the real me.
	I did know, or sense, or however I comprehended, that I would be
left alone if I stayed. Buried in that was the sense that I would come
back later and I would not be left alone. I was a practical girl.
	"No reason to go home," I said. "I'll just have to come back."
	"Whatever you want," Harold said. "It's up to you."
	I didn't have to hear his friend's snort to feel the irony of
those words. I hadn't wanted to do anything I had done. Nothing was
up to me. I couldn't contend, even to myself, that I was forced, but
I had done things I don't do and never knew about. 
	This was my first real decision and I made it because I knew
running away was futile. I would soon have no say again and it seemed
like less hassle to just stay here and wait for the inevitable.
	It was an unreal internal dialog. Things I couldn't prove,
impressions I couldn't put into words, feelings I was sure of, but that
my actions contradicted, it was like trying to hold light in your
hands. I had no way of thinking about it, but something was funny.
	"I have to use the bathroom," I said, suddenly aware of it.
	"The door on your right," Harold said. "Don't open the other
door. It's forbidden."
	Curiosity was a poor relation to my need of a bathroom. I didn't
give it a thought until I had relieved myself. Then it seemed so odd.
It was as if Harold was challenging me. Why put the idea in my head at
all?
	It was even more mysterious as I went back to the front room. I
had no thought of the door. I knew I was not going to open it. I felt
that I would not be able to open the forbidden door. Harold's point
was a mystery that I admit did not long have my attention.
	My nudity had lost its impact but not its wonder. I still felt
no shame in the display. This was too long to be a dream. I was
troubled by my state but more interested in what fate I was to fulfill
in that later time Harold had mentioned.
	I was NOT resigned. What had passed was mind-boggling and mind-
numbing, but I was not ready to simply accept it. At the same time I
still felt the futility of struggle. There was no clue to my behavior
yet I did not accept any of it. It was like being in a horror movie
before the ghost or goblin or whatsis shows up to explain everything.
	I am not a slut. I am not a party toy. I have dignity and self-
respect. That warred with my actions, but I did not doubt myself. I
didn't know how or what or why, only that it wasn't me. I didn't want
to do any of this. My mind, at least, remained true to my true self.
	Harold treated me like all boys treat their toys when they're
done playing with them. He let me sit where I was and turned to other
things. I could have been out in the rain for all he cared.
	I would care, loudly, about such treatment in normal
circumstances, but nothing had been normal since I met Harold. I padded
around Harold's place in my bare feet with no particular purpose.
Harold and his friend were lost in some discussion but still kept
their eyes on me as I did my mother nature impression around Harold's
place. If I wasn't going to be ashamed, I could at least be pleased
that they were so interested.
	That was a little bit like me. The part that didn't feel strange
about not feeling strange parading around naked was pretty proud of the
body she was showing off. If I was going to have to be naked, at least
I looked good.
	I guess I was growing accustomed to my madness. Or maybe I was
running out of things to keep myself from wondering what was happening
to me. Either way, my head was all over the place for a while.
	I thought about Harold in high school. I thought about guys I had
dated. I thought about girlfriends. I wondered what each of them in
turn would say if they could see what I was doing and had done.
	They would be more amazed than I was. There was no explaining it.
My only advantage was that it happened to me. I didn't have any answers
but I did have experience. I didn't know why, but I did know what I
did. 
	And in that way I had it easy so far. Even the part about taking
a cock in the ass. It was weird, but there was some explanation. I had
no clue what it was, but it could be explained. Then another guy showed
up and another. There was no explanation for what came next.

	"Doesn't any of you have a cock that works? I want to get FUCKED!
I want hot cock right here in this pussy!" I was ranting out of
control.
	At that point I was waddling around the wreck of bodies with my
legs spread and holding my cunt open wide. I was showing them where I
wanted a cock. They were looking at me dumbly.
	Inside I was curled up and crying. I was seriously fucked up. I
was crazy. I was acting like a maniac and I could do nothing to stop
it. I couldn't go along for the ride any more. This was insane.
	I felt it slipping away when Harold brought me out in front of
the assembly and introduced me. He didn't say it right out, but I was
standing there naked and the looks on their faces said what they were
thinking. I was the party girl, the pass-around fuck.
	I smiled at that. I don't know how my face could have done that
but it did and without my telling it to. That was the start of a lot
of things I didn't tell myself to do.
	At least I didn't have to make a sexy show out of taking off my
clothes. That was the best that could be said. They didn't make a show
out of taking off their clothes either. They made an uncomfortable
impasse out of it.
	They were shy or something about getting naked in front of the
others. I was thinking how I understood and how unfair it was that
they had a choice when my mouth started moving.
	"What's the matter? You all got tiny little dicks?" my mouth
said, "Don't you want to fuck me? Don't you like girls?"
	My hands were getting into the act. I was cupping my breasts and
jiggling them for the guys.
	"Don't you want some of this?" I asked. "If you do, I want to see
some skin- or you can forget it."
	It was bad enough I did what I did with Harold- and his friend.
At least that kind of happened and I kind of went along with it. This
was totally whorish and humiliating. I sounded like the instigator.
Something was wrong before, but this was far out beyond simply wrong.
I felt like a puppet, but I didn't see the strings.
	My demands did get them started. In order of courage, they began
taking off their clothes. My face was smiling, but there were darker
emotions filling my head.
	I guess I knew all along what was coming. At least I had an idea.
I guess I was trying not to believe it and distract myself with those
thoughts about how it could be happening. I also knew I hadn't wanted
to fuck Harold and I did anyway. Maybe I was sparing myself the terror
until it happened. There wasn't any way out of it.
	"Yeah, there's a cock," I said to the first one to drop his
pants. "I see one, I suck it."
	True to this declaration of my traitor mouth, I went to my knees
in front of this guy and took his cock in my mouth. That seemed to put
some pep into the rest of them stripping. I sucked cock and they got
naked.
	Then I was surrounded by cock, all waiting their turns. I felt 
like the second hand on a clock. I turned and sucked a cock. I turned
and sucked the next cock. Around a circle of strangers, I went click, 
click, click, like the second hand, moving from cock to cock, giving
them a suck or two and moving on.
	Surprisingly, it wasn't so bad. For one, it was so unreal that
I couldn't take it seriously. For another, there was all the shifting
on my knees and finding the next cock. The task seemed to take up all
my spare thinking. It wasn't all that much different than sucking just
one cock, after all.
	The first cock to slide into my pussy changed that. All the 
disgust I had deferred hit me at once when I was speared on a prick.
I couldn't just turn and suck, turn and suck mindlessly. I was fixed
on a thrusting cock and all of a sudden the number of cocks became real.
	There were a lot of cocks. They were all going to fuck me. I had
reached the place where I would stay for hour after hour to come. It
was a grim prospect. Even if I came every time, it wouldn't be enough
to make up for being such a slut. I could feel the little control I had
slipping away.
	However my internal panic grew, I still sucked the cock in front
of me. The other cock kept fucking me. I was feeling the walls close
in. I was trapped. It was happening to me.
	"Damn, Harold, you've got to be the luckiest guy alive. And we're
the luckiest friends," someone said. "Where do you find all the girls
like this?"
	My ears pricked up but Harold didn't answer. Somewhere in the 
answer had to be a clue, a clue to why this was happening to me. I
didn't want to do this. I wanted to know why I was.
	I felt the cock in my pussy erupt. Someone else put his cock in
my mouth. Another cock took over fucking me. This one was in a hurry.
It pounded quick and deep into my pussy, making it hard to suck the 
cock in my face without being rammed onto it and choking.
	They were all going to fuck me. I was the centerpiece in a 
gang-bang. Girls that did that were pathetic, needy people. I felt
sorry for them and at the same time laughed that they were so fucked up.
Now I was the one fucked up. I was deeply fucked up because I didn't
want to be here and I still couldn't get away.
	"Come on guys, you're wasting it," Harold said. "You want to
waste it like that or do you want to have some real fun?"
	I don't know what they were thinking. I don't think they knew
what he meant any more than I did, but I'm sure they were more open to
whatever it was than I was. They did let Harold take over.
	The sofa was a sofa bed. It was presently in the bed stage of its
configurations. Harold must have folded it out while I was doing the
circle suck. He led me over and I climbed into the middle of the bed.
	They were going to fuck me in ones and twos and threes while
everyone else watched and waited their turn. I knew that the same way 
I knew what was going to happen when I took off my clothes for Harold.
I had as much input in the decision. Worse, I knew why the future had
been revealed for me.
	"So, who's going to show these other guys how to fuck?" my mouth
asked loudly. "Who wants to show them how to fuck a girl?"
	I was sitting on my heels with my hands on my hips. Somehow it
was even more lewd than laying on my back with my legs in the air. I
was making the same invitation, but it was like I was daring them. I
was asking for it in more ways than one.
	The walls that had closed in were collapsing. I was saying things
I'd never say. There seemed to be no part of me that was mine. There
was the same awful certainty of my fate, but I could no longer try to
make the best of it. There was no best. There was no good. It was a
full-on nightmare. I felt like that part of my mind that was still me 
was trapped in a padded room. It was time to kick and scream against
this compulsion.
	"There, now," my mouth said as one stepped forward, "I hope
you know how to use that cock because I need to get fucked hard and
long."
	That was my kicking and screaming. It was impossible to even force 
a protest to the surface. I was acting like a slut and there was no
resisting.
	Strangely, and I say that in retrospect since I had no such 
comprehension at the time, the guy wanted me in the old man-on-top
pilgrim position. He lay me back and put his cock in me and fucked.
	His buddies responded with encouragement and envy. I lay there
in a void. There was only haunting silence in my head as he fucked me.
I was still kickless and screamless and also without commands. I was
not doing anything. I was left to rest as his cock pounded into me.
	He gave me the hard and long I had asked for. There was little
variation to the thrust, thrust, thrust of his cock. I imagine it was
the way he liked it because he had no concern for me.
	It made it all the more strange that I felt the urges rising.
Fucking Harold I had felt excitement. His cock set off the natural
reactions in my cunt. I hadn't noticed their absence until they began
to take me again as this man fucked me. 
	It was all the more rude now. His cock was hardly driving into me
in the same pleasant way as Harold's before. Yet I felt the heat, the
panting as if it was the best effort of my one true love. I was going
to cum.
	It was a moaning, groaning, twitching orgasm and felt as good
as an orgasm can. Still, I resented the pleasure and abhorred my 
immodest reaction for all these strange men to see. Even the good was
tainted for me now.
	It got Mr. Machine going. That was its one good effect. He
reacted to my reaction and moments later he was groaning and jerking
and cumming in me. Finally that was over.
	It was not a victory of any sort. It only cleared the way for the
next one. He wanted me on my hands and knees. I didn't have to look at 
his face as he fucked me, but there were so many other faces I had
to see while his cock drove into me. I imagine you could see the same
looks on faces gathered around a dog-fighting pit. Their looks of 
dangerous lust were not pleasant.
	"Harder! Fuck me harder!" my mouth was moving again.
	I didn't want to be part of it anymore. I wanted to stop knowing
what was happening to me.  I didn't want to hear what my mouth was
saying. There seemed to be no way to stop it and if it had to go on
I didn't want to be aware.
	I couldn't even do that much. Like some horror from A Clockwork
Orange my mind's eye seemed pried open and forced to witness what my
body was doing. I could not even think of other things. My mind kept
jerking back at every new outrage I did and it seemed the flow of
outrageous acts was constant.
	"Come on, get ready. I want the next one in there as soon as
this clown is done," my mouth ordered.
	What kind of hungry slut was I pretending to be? This was a 
gang rape. Even if it might seem I wanted it, it was a gang rape all
the same. I was acting like I hungered for cock, any cock, all cocks,
and wanted to be fucked and fucked and fucked and didn't care who or
how my thirst for cock was satisfied.
	No women would want that. I certainly didn't. But I was howling
out orders for them to fuck me. And then I felt it again.
	The pounding was atonal. My pussy was abused to the point that
it felt only pressure and not sensation. There was nothing exciting
about cocks thrusting into me. Still I felt an orgasm build.
	It was insult beyond humiliation. I didn't want to suffer, but 
that was better than seeming to enjoy this. And what would they think,
these strangers? Could they think anything but I was happy they were
using me like some love doll?
	"Hurry! Get it in me! I'm cumming!" I screeched.
	The cock had withdrawn just as the crest came over me. I was a
screaming harpy demanding more cock. It couldn't be worse.
	The next cock slammed into me and my body shuddered.
	"Yes! Pound it in there!" I demanded. "Oh GODDDDD!!!"
	Even the part that was horrifyingly aware shimmered with the
force of this climax. I was cumming. I saw no reason, but there was
no denying the wash of pleasure in my body. I wanted to enjoy it,
but it was too disturbing.
	That was when I began to cry inside.
	The orgy went on. I nearly reached the end of the men when the
first one noticed my anus.
	"What if it put it in your ass?" he asked.
	"No. Please, if you do that I might like it!" I answered.
	It no longer mattered how they took me. I had given up anything
like hope or caring. It was far beyond the worst it could be. I could
work up no additional shame for that perverse use.
	It still bothered me most that I called for it. This unfathomable
behavior was far worse than the physical intrusions I endured.
	It even seemed easy when his cock went in my asshole. My body was
no longer mine. It was obeying some unknown command and was accepting
this sodomy as if I was accustomed to it.
	"Give me all of it!" my mouth demanded. "Fuck my ass hard! Fuck
my ass! Fuck my asshole!"
	He obliged. They were willing to perpetrate any perversion on my
body. My unwilling appeals for them to use me were urging them to
greater efforts. I was arousing them to more debauchery with my calls.
	Whipping them into this frenzy was another slap at that part of
me that protested. It was an ominous cloud over my despair. I wanted 
to run. I couldn't take it any more.
	"Oh god! I'm cumming!" my mouth announced. "I'm cumming with a
dick in my ass! Make me cum with a dick in my ass!"
	It was the second dick and the familiar and still unwelcome 
feeling of lust. I didn't know there was this much shame. I couldn't
have dreamed of such humiliation. There I curled into a ball and
cried.
	It went on. Mercifully, it is a blur of awful sameness. The
ones that had revived came forward to fuck my ass. A scrabble broke
out and was settled by two of them fucking me at the same time. They
threw me around like a doll to put their cocks in my entrances.
	They all used me many times. And then I cursed them for being
worn down. No part of me was in any fit state as they virtually 
crawled away from me and fled.
	I stopped like a clock that has run down when they left. I stood
like a manikin in the midst of the carnage. My mind, that part that
was still mine, was too tired to care.
	"You need to wash up," Harold said soothingly. "You should dress
and take a taxi home. You need to rest."
	I suppose I dressed. I had clothes on when I climbed in the taxi
and Harold gave the driver my address. I was like a zombie trudging to
my door. I went into the shower as if on remote control.
	I had no thoughts left. Harold's words guided me. In some sense
it was like the compulsion that took me before, but these were
comforting words, good words for my benefit. I showered and went to bed.
	And now I wonder what to make of it. But for the aches and
bruises I found on my body the next morning, it seems so impossible.
I have not changed. My mind seems to be what it always was. I have
no explanation.
	I want to doubt it ever happened, but a burning pain that lingers
in my anus says that some part of it must have happened. I want to
forget, but how do you forget something so horrible? I can only say I
don't know what happened and that I didn't want to do it.
	###