Goth Not Slut (or:  My Day at the Beach)

By She Cries
Any feedback is welcome at she_cries@ftml.net.  
You can find my home page at /~she_cries/


     I picked what looked like a black one-piece bathing
suit out of a table of discount items, but it had a neon
pink stripe, almost an arrow, running down the front to the
crotch.  It looked like one of those suits designed to make
girls tits stand out more.  I never wear color, my whole
wardrobe is black, but I didn’t care about that, since I
didn’t plan on wearing this in front of anyone.
     Mickey, my fiancé, had taken me to Santa Cruz for our
anniversary, so we could boogie board on the beach, even
though neither of us had ever done it before.  He’d borrowed
a couple of those thermal body suits that surfers wear
because the water is so cold in Northern California, and
since I almost never go swimming I didn’t have anything to
wear under it but my underwear.  Going nude under it was not
an option.  I don’t know why, but I just can’t bear to have
only one layer of clothing, and ever since I hit puberty I
have always worn several layers of clothes.  This whole trip
was unusual for me; I mean how many goth girls do you see at
the beach.
     I’d found this little shop right off the beach a little
ways up the coast from the Boardwalk.  It was nestled into a
small strip mall, with a weather worn front end with a lot
of “discount” signs in the window, so I thought it would be
a good place to pick up a cheap suit to wear.  Mickey
dropped me off with his little brother, Evan, and left to go
get his friend Arnold, who I don’t like because he always
stares at my boobs.  Evan does the same thing, but he’s
thirteen and can’t really help himself.
     I know I have a large chest, but I hate my boobs
because they hang down causing a fold that I can hide a
cigarette under.  Mickey says they’re beautiful, and a lot
of guys hit on me and can’t take their eyes away from them,
but I wish I had firmer breasts with small nipples like the
models on those magazines.  Mickey says that those are
usually fake breasts and real ones, like mine, are better.
In a bikini, or a one-piece they don’t usually sag, but
that’s not why I avoid them.
     My mom was a short, round Mexican lady.  I didn’t
inherit her smooth brown skin, but her curly black hair and
thick figure.  I’m not obese, or even chubby.  I take a lot
of pride in the fact that my waist is so much thinner than
my hips and my chest, but I don’t have any muscle tone, and
when I bend over my belly folds a bit showing these little
pudgy rolls that you can pinch.  What’s worse is that my
butt does the same thing when I stand straight up, and it’s
not as if I can hold pencils in the folds of my ass, but
let’s just say that I get hit on by black men all the time.
I exercise all the time, but that only keeps me from getting
big, like my mom, and it doesn’t do anything about me being
so short.  There’s also nothing I can do about my face,
which I think is plain, but a lot of men compliment me on my
dark eyes and my thick full lips.  I think that’s mostly due
to the gobs of make-up I cake on.
     So I didn’t really care much how the suit looked when I
picked it out, since I’d never wear it in front of people.
I looked around to make sure that Evan wasn’t around.  He
was pretending to look though a rack of T-shirts while
actually eyeballing a couple of girls walking by the window.
They had trim bodies and walked past unembarrassed in their
bikinis, with their perfect tans and smooth styled hair.  I
brushed my hair back self-consciously.  Not that I’m ashamed
of it, it goes halfway down my back, and it’s so kinky that
I don’t have to do anything with it when I get out of the
shower.  It dries full-bodied, and I let it fall over one
eye so it narrows my cheeks, and my lips, which pucker
naturally, seem to stick out even more.  Guys tell me it
makes me look demure.  I don’t have to die it black, like a
lot of other goth girls do, but then I could never get away
with the bob haircut that was really popular with us back
then, since it would frizz out.
     At any rate, with Evan distracted I folded the suit
carefully so no pink showed and went to find the dressing
room.  He had been giving me shit all the way to Santa Cruz
about how funny it would be to see me not dressed up as a
goth, since I had agreed to wear one of the body suits
Mickey had gotten.  I didn’t want him to make fun of me for
the one-piece as well, since as far as I was concerned no
one would ever see me in it.
     I spotted a drawstring curtain in a corner of the room.
I hoped that wasn’t the only dressing room, since it not
only opened to the whole room when drawn but it was almost a
foot too short, and everyone would be able to see your feet
if you undressed behind it.  Aside from that the store was
pretty busy, and there were about seven or eight guys and a
couple of girls looking through the racks.  I made my way to
the dressing room, attracting a few stares, as I always do,
because of my outfit, which was typical of me.  A short
black velvet stretch dress, tight with long sleeves, black
stockings and black suede buckle boots.
     When I got to the dressing room I realized that not
only was it the only room but that the curtain didn’t close
all the way.  It ran perpendicular from the wall and if you
stood close enough you could just lean over and look right
in.  What was worse was that a rack of men’s bathing trunks
ran right up to the open edge of the curtain, and there was
a mirror placed at such an angle that one wouldn’t even have
to lean, but find a good vantage point and just watch.
     I suppose that this was all to discourage shoplifters,
but I was being discouraged from buying there at all.  But I
needed the suit, and I wasn’t about to pay ten dollars for a
swimsuit that didn’t fit.  I looked around and saw Evan
looking around for me and decided to just do it.  Ducking
into the room before Evan could find me I knew I had to do
this as quickly as possible otherwise I would just chicken
out.  I dropped my purse, and pulled the dress up over my
head, looking around for somewhere to hang it, but there
were no hooks, so I let it fall.  Then, leaving my panty
hose on I started to pull on the suit, but realized that I
wouldn’t know If I could stand wearing the one-piece, since
the hose would kept me from noticing if, say, the suit rode
up on me, or chafed.
     I pulled my leg out of the suit and yanked down my
hose.  Too quickly it seemed, since my panties went right
down with them.  Feeling the cool breeze between my thighs
reminded me that never in my life had I been this exposed,
even if I was behind a curtain.   At that moment the curtain
was the only thing keeping me from exposing myself to a room
full of men.  Trying to extract my panties from the hose I
felt a warm, tight knot forming in my stomach, my fingers
fumbled clumsily with the fabric as a faint craving to touch
myself came up.  I pulled up the panties, the smooth cloth
rubbing over my skin, and the knot started to loosen.
     Ever since I was twelve I had reacted to stressful
situations by masturbating.  When my mom would lose her
temper and start raging, or when the other girls would make
fun of me at school for dressing funny, I would run to my
bedroom and touch myself.  It was a way to take me away from
myself, so I wouldn’t have to wonder why I felt so
different.  I never thought about suicide, for me there was
always an escape that was purely physical.  Sometimes I
think that that was why I survived high school.  Mickey
complains a lot about me not wanting sex too often, but
that’s because it’s always been a private thing for me.  A
place where I can go and not have to worry about what others
think, or how fucked up the world can be.
     I finally pulled on the suit, leaving my hose discarded
in a small wad on the floor.  I had to stuff my breasts into
the tight fabric, and I could feel it pinching my butt
cheeks and smashing my chest to the sides.  I looked at the
mirror but all I could see was a reflection of a row of swim
trunks and a couple guys looking through them.  When I
realized that this meant that they could see me the knot
came back and my tummy started to burn.  I took a deep
breath, they probably weren’t looking, and I was only
exposed for a couple moments, so there was nothing to worry
about.  What I was worried about was having to step out from
behind the curtain to look at myself, where the whole store
could see me.
     I could feel the suit pressing in to me, pressing the
metal wires in my bra under my chest and wadding up my
panties in the back.  I took another deep breath, and
stepped out.  One quick glance, that was all it took to
realize that the suit was definitely not built for a woman
of my height and build.  The leg holes went up past my waist
and pinched the skin where it folds, and the chest was so
small that I could see inches of my cleavage.  My breasts
bulged out under the shoulder straps and the shape of my
nipples were clearly visible where the pink fabric met the
black.  Worst of all was where the crotch rubbed against my
unshaved pubic hair.  It chafed.
     Suddenly I caught myself, realizing how long I had been
looking at myself, I spun around and saw the two guys I had
seen earlier looking with grins.  Both were young men in
their teens; California beach types, tanned, skinny, with
short unstyled hair.  They both turned away quickly and I
ducked behind the curtain.  I reached back to loosen the
bunching of my panties and realized that the whole suit had
gone up between my legs and my entire ass had been exposed
as if I were wearing a thong all the way up past my waist.
I frantically started pulling the suit off and had it down
just past my waist when I looked up and saw the faces of the
two guys looking at me in the reflection.  They both looked
away again, but they had seen me in my bra, which no one but
Mickey gets to do!  They had also seen my butt, and as I
said before I am not proud of my ass and no one but my few
boyfriends have ever gotten to see.  One of them looked up,
saw me watching him and moved out of view, fortunately.  The
other kept his back turned, I guess he had seen enough.  I
pushed the suit down quickly, but like my hose it pulled my
panties down with it, just the crotch stayed bunched up
between my legs.
     “Are you almost done yet?”
     I looked up and there was a young guy looking in, a
different one, this one about 17, a few years younger than
me.  His eyes were fixated on my crotch and my hand snapped
into place trying to protect what was left of my modesty.
     “Sorry.”  He mumbled, looking up at my face for a
second and disappearing.
     I had to get out of there, and grabbed my dress off the
ground with one hand as I pulled off the suit with the
other, forgetting my panties that went with them.  I pulled
my dress over my head, abandoning for a moment the
underwear, which was knotted, around my knees.  When I
pulled my neck through the opening I saw the guy again,
standing behind the curtain with me.
     “I just need to try these on.” He said holding up a
pair of trunks.  He pulled off his shirt and started to work
at his jeans while I stared agape.  As he pulled his pants
down I saw that he wasn’t wearing underwear, his penis was
sticking out, fully erect, and he was looking at me with a
sort of grin.
     I realized that my dress was still half up, my pubic
bush was still exposed, and I tried to pull the skirt down,
but my arms were still tangled up and as I started trying to
get them into the sleeves he started to masturbate.  I
stared in horror as he played with himself, stroking his
thin penis as he watched me like I was a picture in a
magazine.  The knot grew stronger, and the burn crept down
into my crotch, filling my labia with blood and making my
hands itch to touch myself.  I wanted so much to reach down
and start to rub, to make this all go away, to pretend like
I was alone in my room at home, but that would have been the
worst thing I could have done.
     Suddenly thick jets of cream shot out from the boy’s
penis, splattering me in the belly, my crotch, my thighs.
Some of it landed on my bare toes.
     Shocked out of my reverie I pushed my arms through the
sleeves and pulled the skirt down, spreading semen downward
and pushing it into my bush, but I was too startled to care
about my short velvet dress.  I bent down to grab my purse
and my clothes, but he took a step forward.  When I looked
up my face bumped into his penis, semen streaking across my
cheek; the head of the thing landing on my lips.  I looked
up at him, my mind reeling in fear as my hands groped for my
belongings.  He smiled down at me, his hand grasped the base
of his penis and moved it across my mouth, casually
spreading his jism where it touched me, throbbing as it did,
small baubles of runny sperm oozing out and dribbling down
to my chin.
     He gave a sort of push, and for some reason, a reason I
couldn’t understand, I didn’t lock my lips or clench my
teeth.  I didn’t even turn my head, but let him just open my
thick red lips with his penis, and he pushed a little
further in until the baubles were rolling out onto my tongue
and my lips encircled and closed around his light girth.
     I let my purse go and clutched myself, between my legs,
unconsciously.  I didn’t rub.  I had never done anything
like that in public, but I had to do something about the
knot of fear in my stomach; Fear of total humiliation as
this boy pushed his thing around in my mouth.
     He moved his hand forward a couple times, milking even
more out of himself, all the while grinning down at me with
his pimply teenage smile as I stared up at him
subserviently.  What would Mickey think?  I always made him
wear a condom, even for oral sex, and here I was with a
stranger’s semen gathering in the fold of my tummy, matted
in my public hair, coating my mouth like a second coat of
lipstick and dribbling onto my tongue.
     He started to thrust, and I let him while trying to
hold my head steady as he pushed deeper into my mouth.  His
dick wasn’t long, and it wasn’t thick, so it wasn’t hard for
him to use me like that.  He put his hand behind my head to
hold it steady against the increasing force of his
thrusting.
     After a few moments of his doing this my mind started
to settle, I realized what was happening, but I didn’t stop
him.  I was too scared of what would happen if I even moved.
I looked around me, but when I saw the mirror I froze again.
There I was on my knees with one hand clutching my crotch,
my skirt hiked up in back, and past me, in the reflection, I
could see the two boys I had seen earlier, watching.  This
time they didn’t look away.
     Suddenly the hand on my head seized me tight, the
thrusts became manic and my head was being shaken back and
forth violently.  Just as abruptly he stopped moving and
warm goo started hitting my tongue and filling my mouth.  It
must not have been that much, Mickey never comes much the
second time, but filling my mouth like that it seemed and
enormous amount.  I wanted to swallow it, to get it out of
my mouth, but I couldn’t, and it was all I could do to keep
from gagging.
     Finally he pulled out and started to get dressed,
pulling his jeans on first, then his shirt, as I knelt there
with a mouthful of his sperm, too scared to spit or swallow.
He slipped into his shoes and smiled at me.  He mumbled
something, but I could see shyness welling up in him, his
earlier confidence abating with his erection.  He ducked out
of the booth.
     Suddenly back in the real world I came to my senses.  I
opened my mouth, but a dribble of semen out the corner made
me slam it shut.  I tried to swallow again, but couldn’t,
its acrid bitter bleachy taste making me want to retch.  I
let go of myself, grabbed my stuff and stood up.  I turned
and started to walk out of the booth, but bumped into one of
the kids.  He was standing in the way with a sheepish grin.
He started to look me in the eye, then looked away, down at
my body, at my bare legs, my exposed pubic bush and my bare
ass.  I realized that he thought he was going to get a turn
and froze, clamping my lips tight to keep the semen from
dribbling out inadvertently.
     The thought of being used twice in such a way was too
much.  My legs started to wobble, and the burning in my
stomach became fierce.  I was desperate to play with myself,
to find a hole to crawl into where this boy, younger than
the one who had come in my mouth, who had seen me let a
complete stranger take me in a public place, didn’t exist.
     But he wasn’t as bold as the older boy.  He blushed and
took a quick step back.  I seized the opportunity and darted
for the entrance to the store, pulling my skirt down and
almost bumping into several guys on the way.
     “Are you gonna pay for that?”
     I staggered and stopped, my mouth coming open
inadvertently for a moment, semen dribbling on my lip.  I
looked down at my hand, but instead of my panties and hose I
had the one-piece suit.  A middle-aged man with a large
belly stood behind a counter in the center of the store
staring angrily at me.  I looked back at the dressing room,
but the young boy standing in the doorway made me turn
around.  I marched up to the counter and pulled my wallet
out of my purse.
     “Twenty-five.”
     I looked up at him.  I wanted to tell him that the suit
came off the discount table, but with my mouth full of semen
I couldn’t say a thing.  Again I tried futilely to swallow
it, but my throat threatened to gag.  The thought of
spilling the stranger’s semen all over the counter in front
of all these men kept me silent as I pulled out the money
and paid the man.  I looked around the room; a lot of eyes
were on me.  In one corner I saw the stranger talking to a
couple of his buddies, also younger than me.  They were
looking at me with knowing grins, smiling.  One of them
slapped the stranger on the back.  I looked away as the
mustached man behind the counter counted my change with one
hand and rubbed his belly with the other.  His eyes were
pointed down at my legs, which I was acutely aware of being
bare to the world for the first time since I was a very
little girl.  They were pale and white, with thick but firm
hips, the result of a lot of exercise.  I had narrow ankles
and tiny feet, which were bare, as I’d hardly taken the time
to grab my boots when I flew from the dressing room.  The
man put the suit in a small plastic bag and pushed it across
the counter to me.  I took it and the change and quickly
walked out the door, conscious his eyes on the hem of my
high tight skirt and my lack of panties, which must have
revealed the curve of my butt cheek.  Aware of the laughing
boys who now knew what I had done, the two who saw it, and
the one I had done it to, all watching me as I left.
     The cool breeze blew through my legs, caressing my hot
labia as I stepped into the busy parking lot.  I ducked
behind a pillar to shield myself from view of the store and
spat out the boy’s sperm.  It came out in thick runny
globules, and I gagged and spat several times before I was
convinced that it was all out.
     When I looked up I saw Evan watching.
     “Hey, what’s up?”
     I shook my head at him and walked back towards the
beach.  After a moment I looked back and saw him running to
catch up with me.
     “Was that what I thought it was?  It looked like…”
     “Something came up,” I said, “That’s all.  Maybe I’m
close to my period, I get sick sometimes.”  Not thinking who
I was saying this lie to I tried to look at Evan matter of
factly, but don’t know how well I hid my nervous
apprehension, or whether he recognized the cum on my lips.
As I saw him looking me over I realized how unusual I
looked, without any stockings on, my hair disarrayed and
make-up undoubtedly smeared.
     “You were in that changing room a long time.  And I saw
that guy go in there and come out before you did.”  I just
looked back at Evan. The horror of having been seen by my
fiancé’s kid brother threatened to make me genuinely sick.
Had he seen anything more?
     Evan persisted, “What did you do with that guy?”
     “Nothing.” I said, “He just wanted to look in the
mirror.”
     “With you in that super slinky suit?”  He had seen her
when she stepped into the store to look at herself.  When
the suit had gone all the way up her ass.
     “I…”
     “How come you were showing your pussy to the whole room
when you came out?”
     “Evan-” I stammered.
     “You fucked him didn’t you?” Evan’s mouth was knotted
up in a frown, how could I possibly explain to him what
happened.
     “I was dressing when he came in, Evan.” I pleaded with
him, pulling the hem of my skirt down further as Evan
scrutinized my legs, the first time he, or almost anyone I
knew but Mickey had ever seen them bare.  “He wouldn’t
leave, so I ran out?”  I couldn’t tell him about having let
the boy put his penis in my mouth.  I couldn’t tell him how
I had to take his sperm.
     “Why did you take your panties off then?  I always
leave my underwear on when I’m trying on clothes, I mean
everyone in the room could see you in that dressing room.”
     That comment took my breath away, but I realized that
he had to be exaggerating, otherwise he would know what I’d
done.  Or was he just trying to make me admit it.
     “Evan.” I pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t make me explain.
     But Evan’s face had softened; he started to look
genuinely worried. “What did you do with him?”  I could see
that he didn’t look me in the eye, but was more unabashed
than usual about checking me out.
     “Evan,” I said, “He came into the room and started
masturbating.  I was totally naked.” I exaggerated, “I
couldn’t leave.  I mean, I couldn’t go out there and let
everyone see me like that.”
     “He saw you?” Evan’s eyes were wide as he looked me
over.  “He saw you totally naked?”
     I nodded, starting to feel deeply embarrassed.  Just
having to share my humiliation, though inaccurately was
almost as bad as the experience itself.  “Please don’t tell
Mickey Evan.  This’ll just be our secret, all right?”
     Evan looked up at me, “Okay.”  Between my embarrassment
and shaking knees I felt a great sigh of relief.  I would
have to start being nicer to the little creep.  “But I wanna
see what he saw.”
     My heart sank.  I was being blackmailed by this little
shit.  My legs were wobbly and my voice shook, but I said,
     “Look Evan if you think I’m going to expose myself to
you-“
     “What about the blow job you gave him?”
     My mouth fell open.  Had he seen everything?
     “That’s cum over there on the sidewalk isn’t it?”
     I started to shake my head.
     “Then what is it!?”  Evan was shaking with nervousness
and anger.  I had betrayed his big brother.  But if that’s
why he was mad then why was he trying to make me embarrass
myself?
     “Its…” I gave up. “You’re right Evan.  He made me give
him a blow job.”  My world was dark and dim, I was sure I
would collapse my legs were so shaky.  I went on, “I wanted
to run, or scream, but I didn’t want everyone in the room to
see me like that.”
     I could see pity in Evan’s eyes, but there was
something else.  A feeling that was altogether unique to
thirteen year old boys when they think about things like
naked women and blow jobs.
     “Show me!”
     I was in shock.  This can’t be happening.  First a
seventeen year old pushes his penis into my mouth until he
comes then my fiancé’s thirteen year old brother asks me to
expose myself to him.  I must have mumbled some sort of
negative because he shouted, “If you don’t show me I’m gonna
tell Mickey about the whole thing and you can explain this
to him!”
     I stood still for just a moment, then, feeling the knot
in my tummy tighten up even tighter I took a few steps back
to where I had spat up the strangers semen.  I stopped by
the pole and turned to face Evan.  I could see the street,
but from the shoulder down parked cars and a long shrubbery
that shadowed the store windows blocked me.  Evan stood arms
crossed waiting.
     I turned around and hiked up the skirt for Evan to see
that I wasn’t wearing anything.
     “Higher.”  He said.
     I pulled the skirt up a bit more.
     “All the way!  I want to see what you showed that guy.”
     I looked around frantically, a couple pedestrians
glanced in our direction but walked on.  There were people
in the parking lot coming and going, but no one looking
directly at us.  I pulled the skirt up to my waist, glanced
back at Evan and his fierce glare and hiked it up further,
until it was above my bra.  I crouched down slightly for
fear of being seen through the car windows I hid behind.
     Evan just glared.  I looked at him pleadingly, but he
only glared back.  I could see the bulge in his pants, but
he seemed to want something more.  I turned to face him, to
let him see me from the front, but he just kept staring.
     “What?” I pleaded.
     Evan just stared.
     I stood up straight, to give Evan a better look.  He
took a step closer, looking me over, then at my breasts for
a moment and then at my face.
     I turned my head slowly, pleading, “No.” with a
whisper, glancing at other people in the parking lot, hoping
he would have a little mercy.  I hadn’t shown the other boy
my bare breasts at all, so far I had kept those safe from
greedy eyes, but I couldn’t tell Evan that since I had
already lied to him.
     Evan didn’t budge.
     Slowly I pulled the dress off, I had to, that’s the
only way I could get the bra off.  When I unhooked the clasp
and let the bra slide down I could feel myself quivering.
All it would take would be a casual glance to reveal me to
any passerby, exposing myself in public for a thirteen-year
old.  Evan reached out and I handed the bra to him.  He
fondled it for a second then casually flung it over the car
to his right.  I watched in terror, wondering if my dress
would be next, but Evan was pointing at the ground.
     I followed his finger and saw the puddle of jizz that I
had spat up, still pooled on the tile of the strip mall
walkway.
     “What?”  I whispered.
     “Finish it.”  He said flatly.
     My eyes must have bugged out of my head as my jaw
dropped because Evan smiled slightly, and I realized that
this was his revenge for all the times I’d patronized him
and put him down for being a kid.  Nothing I could do or say
would get me out of this.  He didn’t care that I was a grown
woman who was almost entirely in his power, he was a child,
looking out to get a bit of petty revenge.
     I bent down to my knees, grimacing at the asphalt curb,
but I didn’t dare go up on the walkway where I might be
seen.  At least down here I was somewhat hidden.  I bent my
head down to the globules of sperm, runny and viscous now
that they had mixed with my saliva and settled on the hot
sidewalk.  A thin layer of dust covered the ground as I
knelt closer.
     I looked back at Evan one last time, but he lunged
forward and grabbed my upthrust backside.  His small hand
groped my labia, spreading the lips apart sending shivers
and vibrations through me, and a gasp, almost a cry of
unfulfilled pleasure as the pain in my gut loosened for a
moment;  Relieved by the time worn habit of touching myself
when it hurts, and wet by the time worn habit of
masturbating when I am scared or embarrassed.
     “You’re wet.  How come you’re wet?  Did you let him
fuck you?”  Evan asked, grinding two fingers into me, inside
me, as I rocked with humiliation and unabashed satisfaction.
     “No.” I gasped, but Evan pushed my head into the puddle
with his free hand.
     “Eat!” He barked, and I started frantically to lick at
the gooey puddle, not so aware now of the vicious taste or
the dirt as Evan’s fingers mercifully dug at me, numbing the
pain.
     “What did you do?”  He prodded.
Between tongue-fulls of semen, dirt and saliva, I murmured,
“He put his… thing in my mouth, he… He made himself cum.”
     “You let him!?”  Evan shouted, shoving with all his
might his fingers into me, grinding my face in the tile, and
the remaining puddle of semen.  He yanked his fingers out,
and I fell over, exhausted.  Evan pushed me onto my
backside, and I lay before him, spreading my legs on the
asphalt for him while he glared accusingly at me.
     “I was too scared to do anything.”  I pleaded, “I’ve
never had anything like that happen to me.” All the while,
Evan crept down to position himself between my spread legs,
staring hungrily at my swollen shining pussy.
     “You must have liked it if it made you so wet.”  Evan
alleged.
     I shook my head frantically.  Cum was smeared over my
lips, my jaw and nose, “No.  I was terrified.”
     Evan looked at me with menacing eyes, smiled and
reached down to unbutton his pants, “Admit it, you’re a
slut.”  He whispered.
     I shook my head-
     “Admit it!” he ordered.
     “I’m a slut.”  I whimpered, tears stinging my eyes as
the burning filled by whole inside and I yearned to have
Evan touch me again and send it all away.  I felt him brush
me, then something warm.  I looked down and saw his penis
prodding my thigh, “No.”
     “Whattaya mean no?  You’re a slut!”
     “I can’t, what about Mickey?”
     “You don’t tell him anything and I won’t.”  Evan was
clumsily probing around trying to find my hole.  It was
obvious he’d never had a girl before. “Fuck, you do it.”  He
grabbed my hand and made me take his penis and guide it.  I
took it and rubbed him for a moment against my clitoris,
burning flashes of pleasure blinding me for a moment…
     Then I took a testicle and squeezed it.  Not too hard,
but hard enough.
     “What if I told Mickey that you tried to rape me?”
     Evan gasped and groaned, trying to curl into a ball,
but I held him in place with my free arm and my legs as I
rubbed his shriveling penis against my clitoris, trying to
numb the pain and humiliation I was feeling, while basking
in the revenge at the humiliation he foisted on me as he
cried like a baby in my arms.  Finding his shriveling dick
useless I shoved the sobbing child off of me and got to my
hands and knees and went after my dress on the ground next
to me.
     I didn’t make it a foot before I was violently rubbing
myself, trying to finish what Evan had started.  It wasn’t
until I had made myself cum, biting my lip to keep from
yelping with the orgasm that I let myself reach for my
dress, marveling at the glistening fingers of my right hand.
I had never once put my fingers inside myself for
masturbation, but because of Evans prodding had found myself
desperate for more.  I started to feel pretty silly for
having thought that, but then I guess that there aren’t a
lot of girls who masturbate when they get scared, so I was a
special case.  I just couldn’t believe that I had just done
it in a public place, with Mickey’s little brother writhing
in pain as he watched a few feet away.
     Looking at Evans curled body, trying to pick itself up
as he hoisted curses at me, calling me slut, bitch, whore,
whatever I smiled but almost regretted not having let him
fuck me.
     But then if he had I might have gotten pregnant, aside
from all the guilt I’d feel about having to deal with
Mickey.  Besides, who’s to say that Evan would have been
satisfied with once.  I had given him what he asked for, and
more.  I had degraded myself utterly in a way no man had
ever made me do.  I hated Evan so much right then that if
I’d had a gun I would have shot him dead.
     But I didn’t have a gun.  In fact I was still utterly
naked in a public place in the hot noonday sun.  Evan of
course was fully dressed but for his unzipped fly, watching
me with wide eyes as I knelt on my hands and knees, my sex
wide open for him to watch.  I became more and more aware
that Evan had been watching every detail as I thrust my
fingers in and out of my vagina, that he had seen my orgasm,
my total loss of control, all brought about by his sick act
of vengeance.  What must he think of me?  I grabbed for my
dress and pulled it on.  My bra was nowhere in sight, so I
pulled on my boots and zipped them up, grabbed my purse and
the bag with the swimsuit in it and marched off.  I was
aware as I walked how my breasts jiggled and swung back and
forth inside the elastic material of my dress, but try as I
might to walk steadily I could not control them.
     I needed to get to a private place and get cleaned up.
To put something on underneath this dress and get to where I
was supposed to meet Mickey on the beach, but first I needed
some underwear, or at the very least, stockings.
     I walked into a convenience store at the end of the
strip mall, a glance in the glass door’s reflection told me
how badly my make-up was messed up.  How much of the shiny
cum had run over my jaw onto my neck.  I walked past the
large bellied scruffy man behind the counter to the
condiment stand, grabbed a couple napkins and did my best to
wipe the cum off my face, and fix the worst smears.  He
observed me carefully the whole time.  I was self-conscious
but I couldn’t have Mickey seeing my in the condition I was
in.  When I found the small selection of panty hose they had
for sale I was shocked by their prices.  They were easily
three times what I was used to paying at home and I only had
a couple dollars left after being extorted by the clerk at
the swimwear store.  I could remember his mustachioed grin
as I shelled out most of my money, staring at my legs while
I was forced to submit mutely, holding a mouthful of bitter
jism in my mouth.  A mouth that had never before tasted an
unsheathed penis, much less semen.
     After pacing around for a few minutes I realized I was
going to have to wear the swimsuit.  If anything, the leers
from the hairy bear of the older man behind the counter were
enough to tell me that I would have to do something about my
breasts.  Even if I could afford hose they would do nothing
for that.  But first I was going to have to do something
about the chafing in the crotch.  I found a single
disposable razor and a bottle of glycerin.  I wanted shaving
cream or soap, but the glycerin was only sixty cents and I
know that some guys use it to shave.  I went up to the
counter and placed the items before the man, he wore a tight
T-shirt that showed his rotund belly hanging over his belt,
and his pants barely hung at what might have been his waist.
Several inches of his ass crack showed above the backside as
he bent over to retrieve a bag.  He put the items in the bag
and collected the money I had laid on the counter, leering
at my chest the whole time, which, try as I might, I could
not keep from swinging back and forth with every movement I
made.  When I went to reach for the bag he pulled it away.
     “I’ll let you have them for free if I can watch.”
     I started, then stared at the man.  He still didn’t
look at my face, but at my chest.
     “You don’t have enough money here.”  He said, and I
looked at the register.  The total was only about thirty
cents more than I had given him, but he was right.  That was
all the money I had.
     “It’s… It’s for my boyfriend.”  I stammered.
     “Aww, come on.”  He smiled, placing the bag out of my
reach.  “Just a little peek.”  He said, reaching out to
touch my breast.
     I froze.  This was happening again, I couldn’t believe
it.  It was as if all I had to do was show a little skin and
men were all over me.  I had had a lot of men hit on me
before, but I could always confidently put them off with a
curt ‘No.’ but today, as nervous and exposed as I was I felt
as if I was being rolled over by every man I ran into.
Knowing that he could see the explicit contours of my body,
my breasts, my nipples paralyzed me as he ran his uncouth
eyes over me.  I had bought this dress for Mickey, and at
one time was proud of it, but now, without underwear or
stockings it made me feel cheap.  This man was treating me
like I had worn it for him, so he could see and be tempted
by my body.
     His hand reached my chest, and he started to gently
fondle, then squeeze my left breast.  I stood there and let
him, hoping he would be satisfied and let me go , hopefully
with the glycerin and the razor.  After the indignities with
the boys in the swimwear shop and Evan this hardly seemed
worth worrying about, but the burning knot in my tummy was
there all the same.
     He continued to grope me, this time with both hands,
“So what do you say?” he asked.
     I looked at him, still frozen, but managed to plead,
“Isn’t this enough?”
     He smiled, but shook his head, “I wanna see ‘em.”
     I looked around, but the store was deserted.  From this
position I could see the street and the passing cars, but
the pedestrians were too far away to notice anything.  The
problem was that in order to show him my chest I would have
to show him everything, since the dress could only be pulled
up over my head.  How could I let this man make me do this.
Why I didn’t run screaming I don’t know, but I was
terrified, half naked and just being around this man, with
the bitter taste of semen in my mouth made me feel like
somehow I deserved this.  Perhaps for letting that other boy
made me act unfaithful to Mickey, or for hurting Evan.  I
set my purse down on the counter and hesitantly started to
hike my skirt up.  Inch by inch I revealed to that towering
that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.  My pussy and thighs
were still wet with the stranger’s splattered sperm and my
own juices.  But I couldn’t go any further, my hand shot
down to cover myself, my middle finger instinctively
pressing hard against my clitoris, “I can’t” I murmured.
     Grabbing a firm hold of my chest which he still fondled
he leaned over the counter, pulling me towards him.  I could
smell the beer he had been drinking, and the thick scent of
stale cigarettes and his slight BO.  His face next to mine
he kissed me, and pushed his tongue in my mouth, moving one
hand down to grope my behind.  He pulled the skirt up, and I
let him do it, I even started to kiss him back, sort of
pretending that it was Mickey in the morning after a party,
but his scratchy stubble and forceful lips were nothing like
Mickey.  I guess he was trying to seduce me, in his own
crude way, but I was so scared at that point that I would
have let him strip me naked right there.
     I felt my skirt come up over my waist, as the kissing
continued, on and on.  He pushed his hand back down to grope
me some more.  His searching fingers found my slit, still
wet from the indignities with Evan, and he started to poke
and prod, “Hmm, like it eh?”  He mumbled in between forcing
his rough tongue into my mouth and sucking on my wide lips,
thinking his groping had gotten me wet.  “Well?” he asked,
stroking his thumb over one of my hard nipples.
     Not wanting to offend him and risk having to walk out
with nothing after letting him grope and kiss me I lied,
“Yes.”
     Suddenly he pulled me up onto the counter, lifting me
like I was weightless.  He yanked the skirt up, all the way
up past my breasts pulling me headlong on my back across the
counter where my legs stuck out into space and my head hung
freely over his side of the counter.  One hand was groping
me forcefully between my thighs, pushing a finger deep
inside me, the other he used to pick up one of my large
breasts which he started to suck on, my face being smothered
with his arm as he pushed down on me, my legs kicking air.
     “What if someone comes in?” I asked his round sweaty
abdomen.
     He released his sucking grip on my nipple, “No one ever
comes in here.  You’re the second customer I’ve had all
shift.”
     My reaction was both dismay and fear.  If no one came
in that meant he could do things to me for as long as he
liked, but at the same time it would spare me the indignity
of being seen submitting to a fat oaf.
     He continued groping and sucking on me for a long
while, switching between breasts, jamming his fingers
painfully into me, but as I am well conditioned to do when
nervous or scared, I remained wet for him, and in fact got
even more so.
     He obviously had a thing for breasts, because he spent
so much time sucking at my large puffy nipples, which were
swollen and red after a few moments of his rough sucking.
They stuck up, erect as much from fear as having blood
sucked up into them and were therefore extremely sensitive.
He fucked me so hard with his fingers the whole time that I
had to bring up my hand, and show him how to do it softly,
“It feels better like this.”  I half pleaded, and he finally
listened, lightening his touch, rubbing me in circles and
pushing on the edges of my vagina like I do to myself when I
masturbate.  After a few minutes of that I started to come.
     I know that seems odd, to have an orgasm when you are
being raped, but he wasn’t brutal, he seemed to genuinely
want to please me, and as I mentioned earlier I was in the
habit of touching myself like that when I was scared or
feeling small.  Given my situation I wasn’t at all
surprised, and I embraced the coming orgasm, knowing the
blissful numbness it would bring.
     It was little at first, but in a few minutes I was
screaming and gasping, basking in the numbness and the lack
of awareness, rocking up and down as this smelly beast pawed
at me with his rough hands, using me for his perverted
kicks.  My whole world tunneled down to a hot flush in my
groin and his rough but gentle fingers.
     “In a few years,” he was saying after I had started to
relax again, the afterglow fading like the sheets being
ripped off of me first thing on a cold morning, “these are
gonna sag.” He was licking my breasts, kissing and sucking
on them.  “You’ll get stretch marks, and no one will want
you.”
     I don’t know why he was talking.  I guess he was trying
to make me feel pretty, but his crude comments made me feel
even more like a piece of meat, only to be judged by the
quality of my flesh.
     He stopped suddenly, lifting away from me, and the last
vestiges of the warmth and numbness splintered around me as
I looked up and saw his slobbering mouth, his triple chin
and his vast acres of beer swollen gut hanging over me.  I
grabbed his hand as he started to pull it out of me and
cried, “Don’t!”
     “Relax baby.” He said, “I’m gonna give you something
better.”
     With that he pulled on one leg, spinning me around on
the counter, condiments and counter racks flying onto the
floor as my legs hit them on the narrow space.  He kept on
arm protectively on my head to keep me from hitting the cash
register.  He sat me up and pulled the dress off my head and
arms and pushing my legs apart, set himself between them.
     “No, I want your hand!” I barked, grabbing his hands as
he started to unbuckle his belt.
     He smiled and pushed me down onto my back with no
effort.  I stayed where he put me, but had to lift my legs
up to keep my back from arching painfully.
     “I have a boyfriend.”  I whimpered, “We’re engaged.”
But my legs wrapped around his waist and he let me go, his
hands lifting my breasts as they slid to my sides.
     “After all this you’re worried about sleepin' around?”
he gestured at my naked body laying spread eagle before him,
his fingers smearing my juices across my hard erect nipple,
my chest still heaving slightly and beat red from the
orgasms.  He ran his other hand along the length of my leg,
which wrapped around him.
     I looked up at this giant man, his hairy belly sticking
out from under his shirt, his whiskered weather beaten face
leering down at me, I could smell the beer again, feel his
great callused hands with dirty fingernails as the spread my
legs apart and groped at my labia.
     “You’re wet as hell, you were practically beggin' for
it a minute ago.” He said, but I have never derived pleasure
from sex.  It has always been something to put up with for
loves sake, and often painful.  This thought of giving
myself over to some ugly stranger who was 20 years older
than me in that way filled me with horror and revulsion.
This was not a clean young man like Mickey or even Evan or
the stranger in the dressing room.  This was a filthy old
brute.  My vagina was already sore from the pounding he had
given it and my clitoris was sensitive from the orgasms he
had given me.
     Given me…
     Was I being selfish to deny him the pleasure he had
given me.
     But no, that wasn’t pleasure.  That was a necessary
escape from the indignity that was being forced upon me.  I
owed nothing to this man, he had forced his will on me and
used me like a doll.
     “You can’t!”  I ordered.
     But he was there anyway.  Pushing himself inside me.
He was thick, and it hurt, but I was wet, very wet, and he
had no trouble burying himself to the hilt as he held me
down with one strong arm, my struggles under his weight were
pointless.  He started thrusting in and out of me like I was
the cylinder for his piston, his mass spreading me apart and
filling me up.  I bucked and kicked, trying to get my legs
higher and wider so as to lessen the massive presence inside
me, often wrapping them tightly around him by accident and
being rewarded with another deep, engulfing thrust.  The
whole time I could feel my juices running down my cheeks as
I pushed out more lubrication the more scared I became.  If
he came inside me, what diseases he might have, how could I
face Mickey?  I wanted to reach down and finger myself, to
make my escape, but I knew that that would make me come, and
how would I ever face Mickey knowing I had surrendered
myself to the relentless pummeling of this bohemian oaf.
     “I always wanted to do one of you goth girls.”  He
grunted in between thrusts.  “You’re so pretty, but so stuck
up.  I always knew you were sluts.”
     “I’m not a slut.”  I grunted back as he pushed his
thing even further, his hands pushing my legs higher and
lifting my ass off the ground.
     “What do you mean, slut?  I’m fucking you ain’t I?”
     “You’re raping me!” I screamed, but he slapped a hand
on my mouth and pushed me down as I tried to sit up again.
     He pushed himself all the way in me and pulled my face
close to his heaving gasping maw.  He kissed me and
whispered into my ear with spittle and hot air, “You let me
grab you.  And kiss you,” He punctuating every remark with a
deep forceful thrust, causing me to gasp and heave as his
thick girth pushed the walls of my vagina apart, “You pulled
up your little skirt for thirty fucking cents, whore, and
then you let me suck on your big titties.  You were the one
goin' around in nothing but a dress, letting everything flop
around.  Now you’re letting me fuck you.  That makes you a
slut.”
     He started thrusting again, harder this time, “I’m not
a slut.” I murmured.
     Things didn’t last much longer than that, because
before he had finished he pulled me off the counter and
dropped me rudely to his side of the counter.  Then I heard
the door open and voices.  The guy grabbed my head on the
way down and shoved his thick meaty dick in my face as I
hunkered down behind the counter, tenderly rubbing my aching
crotch.  He looked down at me with a frown, twisting the
back of my neck painfully.  Like before, I opened my mouth,
only this time I leaned forward and took his cock in my
mouth all by myself.
     “Slut.”
     I glared up at him but could do nothing.  I was naked,
and there were people in the shop.  He pinched me again and
I started to move my lips further over his girth.  I was
powerless physically over him, and he wasn’t going to let me
get away.  I knew I couldn’t take any more sex with him, and
was racking my head for some way to convince him not to cum
inside me.  I started to suck, tasting my own juices on the
head of his thick shaft.  I was afraid of what he might do
if I didn’t behave, but I was equally as scared of having
him cum inside me, or worse, in my mouth.   Would I have to
do that again, to take that nasty fluid in my mouth to keep
myself clean.  I had few illusions that he might be willing
to wear a condom, even if I could endure more of that awful
stretching and filling.
     But my answer came another way.  One of the ladies who
had come in couldn’t reach a Styrofoam ice cooler on the
back shelf.  The clerk looked nervously at me then back at
them, trying to persuade them that they could reach it.
Clearly he didn’t want to leave me alone, but he had to
concede.
     Pulling my head hard, smashing me into his sweaty thick
pubic hair I felt his dick fill up my mouth, spreading my
mouth wide.  “Stay put, slut!” he ordered before he left,
“So I can finish you off.”
     Then he smiled at me, and walked around the counter.
     When I was in the store I had seen an emergency exit.
I didn’t think I had time to put on my dress and make for
the main entrance, but if I made it out the back I could put
on my dress and not have to worry about being seen.  I
grabbed the dress and the bag with the glycerin and peeked
over the counter and grabbed my purse.  I saw the clerk
pulling the cooler off a high shelf on the far side of the
store.  He looked back and saw me take my purse but there
was nothing he could do.  He started to walk briskly with
the cooler back for the counter but I had already started
for the back door.
     The last I saw of him was him grimacing as I slammed
the door shut behind me.

     I was facing a low hill to my left.  To my right I saw
the open street and the ocean beach with hundreds of bathers
frolicking about just a few hundred yards away.  All I had
on were my boots, but there was a dumpster between me and
the hill.  I didn’t know if anyone would be able to tell I
was naked from that far away, but the cars passing nearby
were very close, and when one drove by and I saw its driver
do a double take I dashed for the dumpster.
     I spun around the back, hopefully before anyone else
saw me and tripped over a man lying on the ground behind the
dumpster.  I fell forward onto another man.  The first thing
I noticed was the retched alcohol smell, then the immense
BO.  Compared to these men the clerk smelled like a bed of
roses.  The man started up as I fell on him, then grasped me
with rough claws as I tried to scramble away.  He kept hold
of one arm and I couldn’t get further away.
     “This your dress little lady?” asked the other bum
behind me.  I turned around and saw a scruffy weather-beaten
man dressed in rags with hair so dirty that it had
dreadlocked in thick pointed spars.  He was about thirty,
maybe older, the other definitely older.
     “The man in the store.  He tried to rape me.”  I
pleaded.
     The man holding me said, “Looks like he didn’t just
try,” in a thick rasping voice.  With one hand he poked at
my sopping wet labia, exposed from the position I had taken
when I tried to back away from him.
     “Don’t” I cried and tried to pull away, but his grip
was too strong.  I submitted to his probing, letting him
spread my legs, falling back onto my butt.
     The other man had discarded my dress and come over
closer to me, “You’re one’a them gothic chicks, aren’t ya?”
He looked carefully at my groin as his friend stuck his
rough fingers into my labia.  Then he noticed my large
pendulous breasts swinging back and forth.  Perhaps not so
large as some woman, but naked, and as short as I am they
seem much larger.
     I looked at them both pleadingly but neither said
anything.  “Yes.”  I said.
     “It true you into Satanism and vampires and all that
shit?”
     The other man continued to poke at my vagina.  He
inserted one finger into my well-lubricated hole.  I tried
scrambling away again, but the hand on my arm clamped down
and I yelped in pain as he forcefully shoved his finger
further in.
     “No.”  I said, and the guy with the questions came
forward and started to grope at my breasts, which hung
heavily below my chest.  He ran a finger along the crease in
my tummy.  An action that instinctively caused me to suck in
my gut, to try and hide it.
     “So what is this whole gothic thing about anyway?”  He
asked, going back to groping my breasts.
     The man holding me started pushing more fingers inside
me, “You all a bunch of cocksucking sluts ain’t ya?”
     “No!” I said, then turning to the man fondling my
breasts I said, “It’s just a music scene.”  Growing tired of
pushing his fingers inside me the first man pushed me on my
back and climbed on top.  I was too weak to fight him, I
knew that from my experience in the store, but I couldn’t
bear the thought of having escaped the clerk only to be had
by these men.
     “Help me.” I pleaded with the one asking me the
questions as the odor of the man on top of me overwhelmed
me.
     “What do you mean a music scene.”
     I gasped as the man above me started unbuckling his
pants putting more pressure on top of me, “We just don’t get
along with normal people, so we dress different.”  I let out
a yell as I felt a penis pushing inside me.  “We listen to-
aah!  …different music, and…  oh please stop.”  He was
pushing inside me and grunting but he kept slipping out and
having to push it back in with his rough fingers.
     “You’re a whore, ain’t ya?” the man raping me crooned.
     The other bum was not distracted, “If ya all dress
different how come y’all look the same?”
     “We find each other because we- Oh my god- …we identify
with others who- oh! OH! -and we make friends.”
     “Say you’re a whore!”  The bum on top of me groaned as
he put himself back inside me yet again and ferociously
grabbed my breast.
     “I’m a whore!!!” I shouted in pain.  The smell of this
man and the stuffing of his stubby cock inside me was
becoming unbearable.  I looked at his friend, but he just
gestured for me to continue as I lay with my back in the
dirt under the noon sun being raped by a raggedy homeless
man who carried who knows what vermin and bacteria.
     “Well…”
     “Say it!”
     “I’m a whore!”  I looked at the other man and
continued, “Friends trade clothes, and ideas, and introduce
each other to music- Oh, please stop! -OH!”  My legs were
being hiked up and pushed against my chest, my feet dangling
over his bony shoulders.  The bum just couldn’t seem to keep
his thing inside me for more than a few thrusts.  “Some
people are really -Oh no!  I’m a whore! Oh, please don’t do
that- OH!”  He was trying to force his penis inside me with
his fingers while my ass was pulled up in the air with the
weight of him pushing on my upraised legs.
     The other bum sat down on the ground and picked up my
dress, running his hands over the soft velvet, “So your
saying that after enough people got together who had common
enough interests in wearing black and listening to this kind
of music…”
     “The scene was -unh! …recognized as more than -ooh! A
few friends, yes!”
     “Hey bob, you haven’t been able to get it up in years,
why don’t you give it a rest and let me talk to this girl?”
     The man raping me, Bob, suddenly sat up, letting my
legs fall to either side of him, turned to the other bum and
shook a finger in his face, “Rape isn’t about sex you fuck!
It’s about power!”  He turned to me and shouted, “Beg for
more!”
     I was terrified, and complied, “Please don’t stop!”
     He slapped me, “I said beg!”
     I leaned forward and groveled on the ground before him,
my breasts dragging in the rough dirt, “Please fuck me some
more, please.  Please.  Please!  I’ll do anything you ask
me!”
     Bob grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head up,
forcing his shriveled and soft penis into my mouth, “You
see?” he said to the other bum, “You give me power over a
woman any day and keep your sex!  No man rapes because he’s
horny, any man can get laid!” he pulled my head even closer
into his virulent smelly crotch, “Man rapes because he wants
woman to know who’s master!  This little whore’ll never live
this down.  She’ll always remember Bob, even though I can’t
get it up and got a tiny dick!”
     With that Bob shoved me aside, landing me in the other
bums lap, who started to promptly squeeze and fondle my
breasts again.  Bob towered over me, his hands on his hips,
“Well?”
     “Please fuck me Bob!” I blurted out in terror, “I’m a
whore, I want your dick!  I want to serve you, I’ll do
anything for you!”
     Bob looked at his friend who hadn’t stopped groping me,
grinned and grunted.  Sheathing his penis Bob shambled off
around the dumpster where he started pushing a shopping cart
towards the street and out of view.
     I looked nervously up at the remaining bum.  He
continued to grope and squeeze my breasts, then leaned down
and started sucking on my large nipple, just like the clerk
had.
     He came up, “I ain’t like Bob.  I don’t like rape.”
     “Look.” I said, “You can, you know, do whatever you
want but…” I looked fearfully into his eyes, “Don’t cum
inside me.”
     He looked back down at me, smiling a black-toothed
grin, a sodden nappy dreadlock falling forward over one
twinkling eye.
     I laid down on my back, the dirt rubbing into my bare
skin.  I could smell sour alcohol, BO, and urine on this
man, but I was so scared after having been raped twice that
I didn’t dare offend him.
     “What do you want me to do?” he asked, still smiling at
me.
     “F-fuck me…” I whimpered spreading my legs for him.
Between them I saw under the wheels of the dumpster cars
driving past, and beyond them the surf, and people
frolicking carefree on the beach in their skimpy bikini’s
and swimming trunks.  I couldn’t believe that all that was
happening so close to the repeated violation of my body,
stained with saliva, filth, and cum from three different
men, soon to be a fourth.
     The bum had taken off his pants, revealing gangly,
hairy legs, and a strong pungent odor I had never before
experienced.  Rather than climb between my legs, he
straddled my waist, pointing his this penis at me, letting
it rest on my chest, sending waves of the pungent odor,
urine and smegma, pummeling my nostrils, only a few inches
away.  For a moment I thought he would ask me for oral sex,
but then he hefted my breasts up from the sides and pushed
them against each other, locking his thing in between them.
     Then, pushing and shoving, grinding my back and my
bottom into the coarse dirt underneath me he started to
thrust.
     I reached over his leg, trying to reach my sex, hoping
to touch myself, and make him invisible, to muffle the
scent, but with each thrust his legs pushed my arm up and I
couldn’t keep a grip.  I had to endure the whole experience
aware, every moment, as he pushed himself to climax,
painfully tugging on my breasts and violently mashing them
into his shaft.
     Finally the moment came.  He dropped my breasts, they
fell painfully to either side of me.  Then he grabbed
himself and started stroking violently at himself, white
globs of his stuff splattering my chest, goo splashing onto
my nipples.  Then he lunged forward, catching himself from
falling and crushing me with one hand, but leaving his dick
hovering above my face as he continued to stroke it.   Jism
still gushing out in surges to land on my face, in my eye,
on my lips, and into my mouth, which was agape in renewed
horror.  This time a thick briny, but not unpleasant taste
hit my tongue.
     My hands, freed suddenly, reached through his legs and
clutched between my legs, spreading my lips wide to service
myself, but the painful reminder of the abuse the
convenience store clerk had put it through made me flinch
and gasp.  Then the bum thrust his penis downward with the
last surge of sperm into the inviting maw of my mouth.
     The taste was beyond sour, and under the revulsion I
found myself strangely curious as to why his penis would
taste so bad where his cum tasted, well, not unpleasant.
     Churning my head to the side I let his penis slide out,
feeling it brush wetly against my ear as I licked the semen
out of the corners of my mouth and off my lips, trying to
drown the sour taste.  The pungent smell was stronger than
ever, his testicles were firmly nestled into my eye socket,
and I realized that he had passed out.
     I pulled myself downwards, trying to be as gentle as
possible, afraid I would wake him and have to do some other
disgusting deed for him.  At that moment I was boldly aware
that I was no longer in the clutches of a man.  I had a few
brief moments to flee to the safety of crowds where I could
not be mauled or molested by anyone.
     Extracting myself from his skinny saggy testicles and
legs I pulled myself up to a sitting position, scanned the
ground quickly for my purse and my dress.  I saw my purse
next to the bag with the swimsuit and the glycerin and
razor, and grabbed them.  Then I saw my dress in the pile of
rags that the bum who had just cum on my face had been
sitting on when I tripped over him.  I scrambled over there
on my hands and knees and snatched it up…
     Just as a large black man with an equally large duffel
bag slung over one shoulder walked around the corner of the
dumpster, coming up behind me.  He had long ratted
dreadlocks, a thick beard, and a belly that made the clerk
seem trim.  We both froze as we saw each other.  He looked
over at the sleeping, pantless bum, looked at me with my cum
smeared face, and my breasts dangling inches from the ground
as I knelt on my hands and knees, my ass sticking up in the
air.  I saw myself in this mans eyes, my labia swollen and
spread wide, sticking high up into the air, ready to receive
yet another unwelcome intrusion.
     I wondered just then why I had ever thought it safe.
     My vagina at that moment seemed to serve no other
purpose than to let men feed from it at will.  Any man could
walk right up and take his pleasure from it.  The more men
saw me naked the less I felt like my own person, rather a
possession to be tossed about…
     Then I panicked.
     I ran as fast as my short legs would carry me, my
breasts flopping wildly about, around the other side of the
dumpster, back towards the convenience store and into the
back area of the strip mall, a small employee parking lot
and loading dock.  Behind me stood the hill, in front of me,
a hundred yards or so, was a side street that led out to the
main beach drive.  Traffic was backed up on it, but there
was nowhere for me to hide.  Nowhere for me to go but back
to the large black bum.  To my left was the back wall of the
strip mall, and to my right were several back yard fences of
houses that led into the suburban section of town.  There
were a few trees on that side, and I ran towards them, aware
that my quick movement might attract the attention of some
of the drivers on the street, but too panicked to care.
     My movement did attract some attention it seemed.  When
I reached the trees, ducking behind them for cover, I
discovered four small boys playing in the yard that the
trees grew out of.  There was no real fence on this yard,
just a row of trees.  They had been running around playing
war, or some boy’s game, but when I showed up, they stopped,
letting their wooden sticks, presumably used for guns or
swords, fall to their sides.
     My hands instinctively went up to cover my breasts,
while skidding to a stop I slipped on the damp grass and
fell butt first onto the ground, my legs spread wide.  My
possessions flew in every direction.  I was deeply aware now
of the semen running down my face, my matted ratty hair, the
glistening jizz melted on my tummy, and my swollen red labia
exposed for all these boys, no older than nine or ten, to
stare at.  My hands clutching at my breasts did little, I
realized, to cover myself.  With my tiny hands I could
barely cover a nipple, the rest of the breast hanging
prominently down to just above my navel, which incidentally,
was hidden safely away in the tuck of my tummy.
     As embarrassed as I was before these kids I was more
terrified of the large black bum, and hunkered down where I
was, afraid to move a muscle, imploring the kids to be
silent with my eyes.
     “Are you in trouble?” one of the kids asked.
     I nodded.
     “I’ll go get my dad.”  He said, gesturing towards the
house with his wooden stick.
     “No!” I cried, “Please don’t.”  I was more scared of
being discovered in this position than of being scrutinized
by these young children who could not guess at the
humiliations I had experienced.
     “Are you a hooker?”  one of the boys, an older blond
asked.
     “What?” I stammered, remembering suddenly that my legs
were spread, since that’s where all their eyes were I pulled
them together and pulled them up into a ball.  Watching
their gazes shift I realized I was equally exposed, and put
a hand down to my damp vagina to cover it, letting a breast
fall free to one side.
     “My mom said that women who wear make-up like you do
are hookers, and she says you dress like sluts.”
     “I’m not a hooker.”  I implored, trying to curl away
even further from their determined gazes.  A couple of them
had gotten very close.  They didn’t seem mischievous, but
curious.  I imagine they had never seen a naked woman
before.  More so they had never seen an adult act in such a
manner as I did that day.  Nervous, submissive, scared.
     “What’s a hooker?” one of the boys asked.
     I looked up at him. “Could you hand me my dress?”
     He looked around and saw it lying on the ground, and
went to fetch it.
     I decided to answer the boy, “A hooker is a woman that
sells her body to men.”
     “For sex?” another boy asked.
     I nodded.
     “Why?” the first boy asked, handing me my dress.  I
wanted them to go away, or turn their backs, but they all
waited patiently, but expectantly, for me to open up my
body, to reveal myself to them.   I realized I was going to
have to do it.
     “Women sell their bodies for money.”  I continued,
deciding that this would be easier if I didn’t pay too much
attention to it.  I suddenly stood up, letting them all take
a good long look at me, and shook out the dress.
     “Why don’t they get a normal job?” the boy persisted.
     Turning the dress outside out I realized that it hadn’t
suffered much at all from being dragged around and flung on
the ground.  I started to work it over my arms, trying not
to notice the four pairs of eyes riveted to every part of my
anatomy.  I went on answering their questions, “Hookers
aren’t like we are, they’re very poor.  Most of them need to
do that kind of work because there is nothing else available
for them.”
     “But I see job signs all over the place.”  One of the
kids blurted out, embarrassed.
     I stopped dressing for a moment and looked straight at
him, the stretch velvet strung over the top of my chest,
“Most hookers can’t even read, they come from neighborhoods
where they have to work all their lives, and their schools
are terrible.  Most of them don’t go because of all the
crime and drugs.  When they become women they can’t find
normal work, and they get picked up by pimps, who get them
hooked on drugs, who buy them lots of pretty things that
they never had before.”
     I realized suddenly that I was still naked and pulled
the dress on over my head, feeling the cum smear on my face
from the tight collar, “The pimps then make them sell there
bodies to pay them back, or to get more drugs.” I went on,
puling the dress past my breasts while they boys followed
wide-eyed, “they never let the women go, they take almost
all the money and the women never earn enough to pay their
pimps off.”  I pulled the dress all the way down.  “The
women can’t work on their own because the pimp controls all
the streets, and beats up any girl who works alone until she
gives him their cut.”
     The blond boy looked at my dress’ hemline, he was
clearly disappointed.  “Is that why you’re a hooker?” he
asked.
     “I’m not a hooker!”  I barked.
     “Then why are you running around naked?” he shouted
back.
     Another boy chimed in, “If you’re not a hooker, then
does that mean we don’t have to pay you to have sex with
us?” he smiled, as if in triumph while his friends stared at
him in shock.  I watched them all turn their heads to me one
by one expectantly.
     I looked the boy straight in the eye and said, “And
what would you do with me if you could?”
     He stared bashfully at the ground.
     I don’t know why I did what I did next.  Probably it
had something to do with the psychological and physical
brutality I had endured in the past hour.  I think I had
snapped for a moment and was trying to lord power over these
boys in exchange for all the power and dignity that had been
stripped from me that afternoon.
     I walked right up to him, “Well?”
     “Well,” he looked at the ground, even at nine or ten he
came up to my height and was looking down at my breasts
swinging back and forth under my dress, “I’d put my penis in
your vagina.”  I barely heard the words he was no nervous.
     I pulled up the hem of my skirt in front, “This?”  I
asked.
     He couldn’t look at me.  He just looked around and
nodded.  The other three boys, however, were straining to
get a look at my bush, but couldn’t see too well since I was
standing so close to the taller boy.  I took another step,
until my breasts were pushing against his chest, then hiked
up the skirt in the back.  What the Hell, I must have been
thinking.  It’s not as if they hadn’t already seen me.  The
knot of heat was tight in my tummy, as it had been for some
time, but this time for some reason, it wasn’t accompanied
by that cringing horror.  The humiliation I felt at exposing
myself to these boys was having the instantaneous reaction
of sending burning flickers down through my tummy into my
swollen labia, which were twitching and pulsating with
arousal.
     But the shame was equally as strong, and it’s a wonder
that I didn’t tear off running.  My body and mind were
conflicted, to keep the incredible burning alive or to bury
it forever and end the degradation of my body.
     But instead I grabbed his hand and thrust it between my
legs, “Would you put it in here?”  I asked.  I saw the blond
boy take a quick step closer to see, and looked at him.  He
started and took a step back.  I smiled at him, and nodded
towards my backside.  I did the same to another of the boys,
but only the blond who had called me a hooker came.
     The tall boy was clumsily pawing at my pussy, pulling
on my pubic hair, scratching me with his nails, but his
adolescent thumping on my labia was too exiting to make me
stop.  The blond boy hesitated until I smiled at him, “Do
it.” I said, “I’m a slut, not a hooker.”
     He wasted no more time in grabbing my ass and kneading
and mauling it with one hand while poking and exploring for
my crotch with the other.  I had two hands groping me
between my legs and it wasn't’ long before the blond one
found my hole.  I thrust my own hand down to rub at my
clitoris, pushing one of the tall boys hands aside.
     I came instantly.
     Rocking and gasping I shuddered in their arms and felt
my legs give out from under me, the burning sensation in my
loins giving vent to massive convulsions that racked my
body.  I collapsed to the ground and knocked the tall boy
down, falling to my knees with my head in the grass, my ass
sticking up, my sex fully exposed again for all the boys to
see.
     Just as quickly as the desire to control these boys had
come it was gone, like a flight of fancy, with my orgasm.  I
was mortified again, at the thought of all these boys
watching me, terrifyingly aware of the compromising position
I was in and feeling exactly as I had in the convenience
store, or with the bums.  I felt someone pawing at me,
sticking his finger in my pussy, and I just lay there and
let him.
     I watched the tall boy get up off the ground and push
the others away, seeing that all three had been clamoring at
my vagina.  I watched as the tall boy stood up and undid his
pants, pulling out a tiny but stiff erection.  He stepped
around behind me, and with the confidence I had given him by
letting him grope me, got down on his knees and inserted his
thing into my hole.
     And did nothing.
     I almost started laughing.  He had no idea what to do
after that, so he just stood there groping me some more,
reaching around my thighs to touch my bush and trying to
push his hands up my dress.  Laying there shivering, wishing
the knot of pain would turn back into heat I started
grinding myself back against him, hoping to provoke some
sensation in my labia to bring me back out of my fear and
humiliation at having just prostrated myself for the
amusement of four children.
     But he had gone soft, not knowing what to do, and
probably not extracting much pleasure from the experience,
he lost interest and stood up, zipping himself up.  I slowly
pulled myself up, brushing the grass off my face, trying not
to look at the kids.  As I pulled myself to my feet the
blond boy came up to grab me again, but I shuffled away,
bumping into one of the boys that hadn’t spoken.  His arms
instinctively went up, one hand landing on my breast.
     The blond boy stepped forward, “I thought you said you
were a slut.”
     I tried to speak, but couldn’t so I just shook my head.
     “Yes you did, I heard you!”
     “What’s a slut?” asked the boy with his hand on my
breast.
     “Someone who…” I began, “Someone who will let anyone
fuck them.
     “I don’t think you’re a slut.”  The boy said, but the
blond boy chimed in,
     “She let all of us fuck her!”
     “No she didn’t.” the tall boy said stepping in between
the approaching blond and me, shoving the other one off of
me and putting his arm around my waist. “She just let me
fuck her.  You have to use your dick!”
     The blond boy and the tall one started arguing,
shouting back and forth over the definition of fucking.
They shouted at each other for a few moments, the tall one
insisting that I was his girlfriend now and no one else
could have me.  When the blond suggested that the tall one
share me with the rest of them I took off running again, my
buckle boots slipping on the grass as I tried to pull down
my skirt and snatch up my purse and bags at the same time.
     This time, with my dress on, I ran straight to the
street, took a left and ran down the sidewalk following all
the traffic heading towards the beach.  After a moment I
slowed down, painfully aware of how much my chest bounced,
not to mention the aching condition of my groin.  Make-up
smeared, hair a mess, cum drying on my lips and chin, not to
mention my bare legs and lack of any type of underwear.  The
draft in between my legs was stronger than before, and
chillier, probably because of all the juices.  I was still
reeling from the humiliation of what I had just done, and
feeling myself safe at last felt wobbly and lightheaded.
     As I walked past the parking lot to the strip mall it
occurred to me to go look for my bra, which Evan had flung
away.  I figured that as long as I stayed in the open no one
would try anything.  Besides, being on the street I was
getting a lot of catcalls from drivers;  a lot more than
usual.  I guess that was because of my bare legs, and freely
hanging breasts.  I was so glad to be covered up, however,
that I didn't even pay attention to what they were saying.
     As I turned into the strip mall, walking down a tile
walkway that fronted all the shops I saw a couple of Mexican
guys in their teens hanging out in front of a record store,
a couple doors down from the swimwear place I had been
humiliated in.  They were both wearing nothing but long
shorts hanging low on their hips and low sneakers.  Both of
them were staring at me hungrily.
     As I got closer I could see that they were watching my
legs and hips closely, and one of them spoke to me in
Spanish, I guess he recognized my Mexican blood, but I don’t
speak Spanish and have never hung around Mexicans, so I
didn’t respond, just kept walking.  When I got a little
closer one of them said, “Hey mama, you need to hike that
thing up a little more to let the air blow through.”
     I froze right next to them, and looked down.  My skirt
was riding up, my bush sticking out under the hem just a
little.  I started to grab at the dress but one of the guys
put his hand out and copped a feel. He grabbed high enough
to let me know that my cheeks were at least half uncovered,
giving the whole roadside a great view of my legs, my ass,
and my pubic hair that stuck out in back.  Frozen as I was I
guess I didn’t react fast enough for the Mexican boy who had
touched me, since he quickly moved his hand between my
cheeks and moved his hands downward.
     Reaching my asshole I gasped, and he stopped, saying
something to his buddy in Spanish, “Punta” and pulling his
hand away.
     “Who’s been fucking you lady?” his friend asked.
     I shook my head.
     “You a fucking whore.” The other Mexican said matter of
factly, then turned and walked away.  His friend started to
follow, then suddenly reached out for my bush, grabbed me
with one hand and yanked up my dress in the other, pulling
it up under my breasts.
     “How many guys you fucked today?” he demanded, his face
right next to mine.
     “A… a few.” I stammered.  His fingers were rubbing my
pussy, skillfully playing with my clitoris and probing the
entrance to my vagina.  It started to feel real good, and I
let him, quickly forgetting how exposed we were.
     “You want me to fuck you baby?” he whispered into my
ear, softly.  I nodded, not really wanting him to fuck me,
but not wanting him to stop fingering me either.
     Suddenly he stopped, said “You are a fucking whore.”
pulled his hand out and walked off after his friend
laughing, leaving me with my dress hiked up.  Quickly I
scrambled to pull it down, aware that the several occupants
of the record store were watching, men and women alike, but
none had done anything to intercede.  Looking at myself in
the reflection as I pulled the dress down and scurried past
it made sense.  I was dressed and looked like a whore.

     I gave up on the idea of searching for my bra, doing so
would mean I would have to walk in front of the swimwear
store anyways, and I wanted to get as far from that strip
mall as possible.
     Evan was waiting on the corner of the street.  He
frowned when he saw me, then smiled as I walked up.  I was
painfully aware that not only had he seen me naked, but that
he had had his fingers up inside of me and knew that I had
let that other boy come in my mouth.  He had told me to
grovel on the ground and lick up someone’s sperm and I had
done it.
     When I reached him his eyes went wide at the condition
I was in, then he smiled again, perhaps guessing or
inventing the kind of ordeals I had been through.  He
started to speak as we waited for the light, but I stopped
him,
     “We don’t tell Mickey or anyone anything, right!”
     “What do I get?” he asked.
     “You already got your revenge.”
     “I wanna do what Mickey does to you.”
     “No.!” I barked.
     “Well I want something.”
     “Look Evan,” I started, “Maybe when we get back you
can…  I can take off my clothes and we can masturbate
together.”  I couldn’t believe I was offering this to him.
     “Any time I want?”
     “We’ll talk about it.”
     “We are talking about it!” he barked as we stepped onto
the beach side of the street. “You gonna eat my stuff like
you did that other guys.”
     Again, I don’t know why I did what I did, but I winked
at him and said, “Depends how it tastes.”
     “I want somethin’ now!” Evan demanded, “Before Mickey
gets back.”
     I sighed, knowing I would have to appease him somehow.
“What is it?”
     He cocked his head, “Bend over and take off your
boots.”
     We were standing on a crowded beach, traffic whizzing
by, people all around us, but Evan’s request would mean that
I would be flashing anyone who was looking.  The little perv
wasn’t just out to get off, though I knew he wanted that
too, but to humiliate me.  He just wanted to lord power over
someone almost ten years older than him, and he had the
perfect blackmail on me.  I couldn’t do it, however.  The
thought of being forced to do it in private was one thing,
but to willingly expose myself in public?  The very though
sent stabbing pains up and down me.
     I bent over, slowly, feeling the skirt hike up.  First
to my cheeks, and then I felt the familiar breeze on my sex
and shot straight up.
     “Look Evan,” I pleaded, smiling, “Maybe I can find out…
You know, what it tastes like.”
     Evan grinned, then started looking hurriedly in every
direction.  He stopped when he saw a small building, and
smiling at me he gestured in its direction.
     It was a small, gray brick building, a public bathroom
from what I could tell.  Sheepishly I bowed my head and
started off in its direction, Evan following close behind.
The knots in my tummy were tight and painful.  The thought
of sucking off my fiancée’s little kid brother in a public
bathroom made me feel dirty.  The thought of doing it
willingly, of having offered to do it made me feel downright
trashy.  I could feel Evans eyes on my butt as we walked.  I
was aware from the warm breeze that it had ridden up when I
bent to undo my boot into the curvy folds of my butt cheeks.
Had I stopped and spread my legs apart you would see my
pubic hair sticking out as I walked through the crowd of
men, women and children playing on the beach, walking to and
from their cars to enjoy the warm Summer sun.
     When we arrived at the building, Evan skipped ahead of
me and stuck his head into the men's room.  He looked back
at me and gestured me to follow him, then disappeared
inside.  It was a small bathroom, with no doors and high
screens in the walls providing the only ventilation.
Looking around to make sure no one was watching I scampered
in after Evan.  The smell of urine surrounded me like a
cloud.
     The floor was wet with the saltwater of bathers and I
didn’t want to know what else.  The urinal and the sink were
stainless steel, but the door to the stall was pitted and
rusted.  It was by this that Evan stood, gesturing quickly
for me to follow him.  I walked in after him, trying not to
slip on the wet cement floor and he shut the door behind me.
Through the ventilation slats set high by the ceiling I
could hear bathers, some of them standing and chatting
happily just on the other side of the wall I stood against.
     “Take off your clothes.”  Evan ordered, “First the
boots.”
     I was reluctant to set my bare foot on that wet clammy
floor.  Clots of paper towels and toilet paper lay in soggy
clumps here and there, but I looked at Evan and realized
that I would never get through this day if I didn’t appease
him.  I bent over to unzip the boots, then thinking for a
moment I turned around and did it again, so that Evan could
see my pussy while I did it.
     Stepping onto the cold, damp floor sent shivers up my
spine.  I lifted my dress, watching Evan over my shoulder,
unable to believe that I had sunk so low as to become the
sex slave of a thirteen-year-old boy.  He watched with big
eyes, showing the intensity of a child waiting patiently for
his ice cream at dessert.  I lifted the dress up and over my
head, baring myself to him utterly, again, like I had bared
my ass to the children a little while earlier: Willingly.
He smiled and grinned, pulling his thin cock out of his
pants, eagerly awaiting the return on the favor I’d promised
him.  I stepped forward, slowly, each step sending pools of
clammy water squishing through the toes of my tiny feet.
Loud voices carried in from the vents, making it seem as if
I was parading naked through a crowd.  He gestured at me to
drop my dress and I complied instantly, letting it fall into
the dampness.   When I reached Evan he put his hand on my
shoulder and shoved me downwards, I let him push me down to
my knees where his thing stood waiting for me, eager to have
my lick plush lips embrace his thin rigid shaft.  I opened
my mouth, leaned forward, and took it.
     Just then about three loud guys burst into the
bathroom, laughing and joking.  One of them pushed on the
stall door, but I had drawn the latch.  I was terrified that
the latch would break, that one of them would see my legs
under the high walls of the stall, or that they’d need to
use the toilet and wait until Evan and I came out.  Evan
didn’t seem to care, he was still rigidly erect, and he
thrust, perhaps unconsciously, reminding me that I had a job
to do.  I started to suck him, trying to be quiet, hoping
that the boisterous crowd would go away quickly while I
worked on Evan.  I knew that at thirteen he wouldn’t last
long, and I was right.  Within a few seconds he started to
come, not even giving me the chance to put my hand to my sex
and start stroking myself.  His semen started to flow in
rapid jerks, filling my mouth with a rich, slightly salty
taste, and a faint hint of bleach.  It wasn’t as good as the
briny flavor of the homeless mans cum, but then I didn’t
have the bitterly sour taste of rancid cock to contend with
either.  It was certainly better tasting than the strong
acidity of the first boy in the changing stall.
     I thought to myself as Evan’s vibrations shook him out
of me, sending the last few drops across my jaw and chest,
that I might be able to swallow his stuff after all.  Taking
a hesitant gulp I confirmed this, realizing that I could do
that on a regular basis.
     That shocked me.  The thought of routinely taking
Evan’s cum in my mouth filled me with humiliation and shame.
The realization that I had zoned out again in the face of
total submission and let myself be used, Hell, the thought
that I’d offered myself up to be taken like a free whore
made me want to be sick.  But Evan stood in front of me
expectantly, his little dick shriveling up, a glob of white
dangling off the end.  I gulped down the rest of the jizz in
my mouth, suppressed a grimace and said, quietly, so the
guys in the bathroom wouldn’t hear, “Not bad.”  I only hoped
that this little excursion would keep Evan off my back until
Mickey and I had gotten home where I could begin to deal
with everything that was happening to me.
     Evan stood there, still waiting for something, and I
realized he was waiting for me to lick the last drop off his
withered dick.  He was acting like he was holding out a
treat for me, like eating cum was a present, and that I was
a slut, addicted to its acidic flavor.
     Nevertheless I leaned forward and lapped up the last
drop of Evan’s little gift, even licking and smacking my
lips for effect.
     He beamed down at me, “You can have some whenever you
want.” He smiled proudly, “You really like sucking on guys
don’t you?”
     I didn’t answer, but smiled at him as I stood up and
walked over to retrieve my now sopping wet dress.  I did my
best to wring it out, Evan didn't help, he just stood there
watching me walk around naked, grinning as I struggled to
pull the damp fabric over my voluptuous body.  My dress had
been tight before, but now it seemed to melt on to me,
clinging with cold wet friction to the curves of my body,
making the already visible shape of my breast a clear
outline, as if I had been painted with wet velvet.  I pushed
the ratted hair back, letting it rest slick on my neck and
shoulders, then picked up my boots and my bags, gesturing
for Evan to check the bathroom now that it was quiet.
     The coast was clear, but on my way out I ran into a
couple of kids coming in.  They stared in shock at me, a
busty, scantily clad women whose clothes were soaked coming
out of their bathroom.  I meekly mentioned that I had though
it was the woman’s and scurried away from them, turning
around the building to go and employ the woman’s restroom
for real, but there was a metal grate welded to the front of
it.  A small placard read that because of vandalism the
bathroom was closed.  It directed women to go use the porta
potty’s in the parking lot across the street, but I didn’t
need to pee, I needed a mirror and a clean sink.  Evan was
following a few steps behind me as I sought out a quiet
place where I could wash myself, shave the edges of my pubic
hair and change into the incredibly small and revealing
bathing suit that I would wear under the body suit that
Mickey was bringing.  I had to be able to pretend that
everything was normal when he arrived, but the large amounts
of cum on my body and my disaster area of a hairdo and make-
up job wouldn’t allow that.
     My back was to the door of the woman’s bathroom.  I
guess Evan thought that the wall that jutted out to block
the doorway from view was private enough because he walked
up and copped a feel, pushing his hand right into my thighs,
his fingers probing my wet crotch.  I started to jump, to
turn and shout at him, but remembering the position I was
in.   I made it seem like I had been startled, and I smiled
up at him.  That must have given him the wrong idea, since
he dug his fingers deeper, probing into my vagina, making me
spread my legs a little to keep him from pulling on my skin,
and to make it a little more comfortable for me.  This of
course, encouraged him to plunge in deeper yet, until his
knuckled were grinding into me.
     Oh well, it might as well have belonged to him by then.
Would I ever have the courage to make him stop?
     “You must really like sex a lot,” Evan said, “To be so
wet all the time.”  He continued to push and rub with his
fingers, grinding his thumb against my asshole, probably in
ignorance, which hurt, but felt good at the same time.
     I opened my mouth to correct him, but when I realized
that the honest answer was that I like having my pussy
played with more, which was exactly what he was doing, I
just gaped.
     “How come given blow jobs makes you so wet.”
     What could I say, because the thought of having him
tell Mickey what I had done terrified me, and being scared
made me want to hide and fuck myself?  How could I explain
something like that to a thirteen-year-old boy who I was
letting grope me?
     Suddenly he stopped, starting to remove his fingers
from my vagina.
     “Don’t” I gasped, not aware until that moment how
involved I had been getting with his clumsy fingers.
     Evan stared for a moment, not saying anything.
     Desperate to go back to the nothing state, the place
where I wasn’t aware of being blackmailed and molested by a
child I reached down in front of me and pushed his fingers
back up inside of me, “I like it when you do that.” I
admitted.
     “That’s what turns you on?  Getting… fingered?” he
asked, almost embarrassed to say the word.
     I wanted to shake my head, but the sensations inside me
were too strong and I didn’t want to have to explain to Evan
that being humiliated was what made me so wet.  Not because
it turned me on, but because I had conditioned myself my
whole life to get horny whenever I was scared, embarrassed,
or uncomfortable.
     I let him rub me, shoving his fingers deeper inside me,
while I rubbed my clitoris, rapidly racing towards another
climax.  I was almost blind to the woman and her little girl
who had turned the corner to use the woman’s restroom.  I
was oblivious to the hundreds of beachgoers who frolicked on
the sand just a little ways away.  When I finally came, not
as violently as I had with the kids, or especially with the
brutal clerk in the convenience store, but it was strong
enough to send me into Evans shaking arms, heaving and
panting.  He pulled down my skirt when I turned my back to
the beach, perhaps the only kind thing he had ever done for
me.  In the afterglow of my orgasm I kissed him with such a
passion as to make me wonder if I ever had kissed a man
before.  He kissed back a bit, but he was clumsy, and I knew
from Mickey that he had never kissed a girl before.  I felt
his teeth as he blindly sought to know what to do, but that
didn’t stop me as I smothered his thin curved lips in my
thick soft mouth that had only recently received his shaft
in total submission.  I licked him with the tongue that had
tasted and lapped up his salty cum, grinding my body into
his with the last heaving shudders of my orgasm.  Finally he
caught up with me, putting one arm around me, the other on
my ass and he kissed me back, the little boy starting,
finally, to learn to be a man, now that he had a woman who
would have him.
     I had given myself willingly to his perversions twice.
Both times out of fear, but never did he have to resort to
force to make me expose myself for him, to bare my breasts
and pussy for his twisted thirteen year old desires.  I had
agreed to let him see me naked, and to eat his cum when we
leave the horrible beach and that meant that life would
never go back to normalcy.  I would always be at my
fiancée’s little brother’s beck and call, ready to be his
willing vessel to receive his sperm.  Ready to expose myself
for his budding manhood.  Ready to introduce him to the
nature of womanhood, and how it is designed to serve a man.
     There would be no give and take with Evan.  He would
ask and I would deliver.  My reward would be the shame and
humiliation that brought about the need for the mind numbing
release of an orgasm.  I had just revealed to Evan how much
I craved such a feeling, that I would let him take me any
place in the hopes of such a blissful escape from shame.  He
may not have learned it that day, but it certainly couldn’t
be long before he figured out how to lord that knowledge
over me.  He could conceivably make me do anything he
wanted.  Just so long as I thought I would receive my
reward.
     Crushed up against him, my mouth locked on his, I felt
his fingers exploring the fold of my butt cheek.  He would
poke it with his fingers, lift up my butt, then let it fall
and trap his fingers.  The he would caress my labia from
behind, and with the slick fingers he would run his fingers
along the lines of my ass again.  Letting the kiss slow down
and stop I realized that the feeling was gone.  I was again,
disheveled and hardly dressed in public, alive with the
knowledge that I had just surrendered my body to a child,
that I might never be free of his desires.
     As our mouths fell apart I saw Evan gazing at me with a
look of both pride and possessiveness, adoration and
contempt.  Something inside me seized up and pinched tight,
but as earlier, there was no reassuring warmth.  Nothing to
promise the sensuous return for my submission but the memory
of my fading orgasm.  Then I remembered that Mickey was
coming, and I still had to get ready.
     “When Mickey gets here,” I pleaded, “we won’t say
anything, all right?”
     “I want to do it again.” Evan said, cocking an eyebrow
and putting his hands on my hips.  He was testing me, I knew
it.  Perhaps he was afraid that if he let me leave I
wouldn’t be his slave any more.
     “But Evan, if Mickey gets here and sees me like this
he’ll know something is wrong.”
     Evan frowned and crossed his arms.  I was tempted with
the urge to lift my dress for him again, but we were in
public, shielded though we might be.
     “If Mickey sees me like this I’ll have to explain
something.” I stepped right up against him and putting my
mouth to his ear went on, “I have your juice on my breasts,”
I was smashing my chest into his crossed arms, “It’s in my
hair and running down my belly.”  I kissed him lightly, “I
can still taste it.” I whispered lastly and finally saw it
dawn on Evan that if Mickey saw all that semen on me then
not only would Mickey beat the crap out of him, but that I
would be gone for good.
     Evan looked at the ground, then stepped out onto the
sand and looked around.  Then he looked back at me defiantly
with a frown and said, “There’s some showers at the end of
the beach.” He looked at the ground again, “I’ll be at the
burger joint.”  The burger joint was where Mickey and Arnold
were supposed to hitch up with us.  With all I’d been
through that day I still couldn’t believe that I’d only been
dropped off little over an hour ago.
     Evan looked up at me again, jerking his head while
looking at my dress’ hem.  I felt the cold chill again, but
complied with his wishes and lifted up my skirt, just enough
for him to see my pussy.  He twirled his fingers and I
turned around, hiking the dress up over my ass.  Then I bent
over so he could see my puffy labia protruding from between
my legs.  He looked for a moment, then with a huff stomped
off, leaving me to quickly yank down my skirt.
     
     I walked down the beach for a long ways before I caught
sight of a few small buildings.  I was right where the beach
ran into the highway and there was a large scenic outlook
with a largely empty parking lot.  I presumed the buildings
were restrooms for the drivers.  Walking along the beach I
didn’t attract as much attention as I had by the stores,
probably because being wet and half dressed was normal on
the beach.  Most of my make-up was gone and I’d gone and
left my boots with Evan, so there wasn’t much left to
identify me as a fish-out-of-water goth at the beach.
People pretty much accepted me as I was.  There were a few
sunbathers, mostly guys who sat up and stared as I walked
too close to them, giving them an inadvertent glimpse of my
nude cheeks and my pussy as I took large clumsy steps in the
hot sand.  I did my best to avoid these, and always hurried
away.  Looking back over my shoulder one I saw a couple of
guys sitting up and staring.  The closer I got to the
buildings the more sparse the crowd became.  At this end of
the beach there were breaker waves and lots of large rocks
in the water, so even wading was unsafe, which was fine by
me.  I had had enough of crowds and was ready for a little
privacy.
     When I reached the buildings I saw that one of them was
a bathroom like the one I had been in before.  Two of them
were little outhouse shaped shower stalls, built out of wood
with lean-to shaped roofs set about a foot above the walls
allowing the person in the shower to see all around them.
Of course they were probably made for someone taller than
myself, I was only 5’5” and had to stand on tippy toe to see
inside, even then I couldn’t see down inside of it.  The
first stall I checked was rusted out and someone had
obviously put a lot of effort into vandalizing it.  The
second one was in much better shape, though it certainly
needed a cleaning.  The only problem was that it was right
next to the parking lot and there were already two cars
parked there.  I saw a middle-aged man playing with his dog
not far away and there were two old ladies walking past me
as I contemplated the stall.  I was certainly apprehensive
about stripping down in this little box.  The idea of being
naked while only a thin, low, wooden door separated me from
any number of pedestrians scared me more than ever, sending
the flighty moments of security away as quickly as they had
come.
     But I had to do it, Mickey was coming, and I had to
appear normal, otherwise explain why I had let so many men
see me naked, let them grope me, cum on me, and cum in my
mouth.  I had never before tasted sperm, now I had sampled
three men and committed myself to doing it again and again
with the third.  I had even let two of them and a child have
sex with me.  How many men had laid their hands on me today,
certainly more than had ever in my life all combined.  I was
fortunate that I hadn’t had to take anyone’s cum inside my
vagina.  To me that was the ultimate degradation, next to
swallowing their sperm, to take a man’s sperm unwillingly.
In a way it was worse, since their sperm would then be deep
inside me, and since I had always made Mickey wear condoms I
wasn’t protected.  How many men had almost impregnated me
today I didn’t want to think about.  The one thing I knew
for certain was that Mickey would never accept my
explanation that I was simply scared when I opened my mouth
and let that strange teenager put the penis in my mouth that
had started the ordeal.
     I would simply have to pretend nothing had happened and
hope Evan did as much himself.  Considering all that I had
been through, however, getting naked in the shower stall
didn’t seem like such a leap.  But since I had been so
brutalized today, stepping through the rickety door I was
reminded of all the penis’, I could taste all the cum, and I
was terrified that it would happen again.  With a Herculean
effort I made it through the doorway, dropped my bag and
with single-minded determination pulled my dress up, but
froze halfway up.  I closed my eyes, and for some reason saw
Evan standing defiantly with his arms crossed.  Somehow that
pushed me over the edge and within a moment I was naked.
All around me I saw the bright blue sky, the world seemed to
be buried.  Pinholes of light shed in from narrow cracks in
the weathered wood and a cool breeze blew through the
screened openings that revealed the azure blue sky.
     I reached for the shower nozzle and cranked it hard,
ready for an ice-cold blast of water to wash the scum and
sperm away.
     But nothing came.  I heard a faint gurgle, but no water
cam out.  I looked at the floor, it was bone dry, a cement
depression surrounded by a short brick ledge with a grate in
the center of it all.  Disappointed hardly began to describe
how I felt, but resigned I let go of the nozzle and reached
for my baggie of clothes hanging from a hook on the door.  I
would just have to go over to the bathrooms to clean up my
face when I was done, but first I had to shave my pubic hair
and get into that suit so I wouldn’t have to flash every man
I stepped near.  I poured some of the glycerin onto my hand
and started to work it into the edges of my pubic hair,
rubbing it liberally into my very sensitive labia.
     Doing that made me realize that I was basically alone,
and the hormonal rush from having locked myself in my room
so many nights came back with a mad passion.  My clitoris
was sore and swollen, but my lips were engorged and as I
rubbed my lubricated fingers deep into my dampening folds I
felt myself gasping with pleasure.  With my eyes tight shut
and my heaving breath I didn’t notice a rattling at the
door, but when I finally heard it my eyes popped open and I
saw a face peering down over the top of the door.  It was a
black face with long dreadlocks and a wiry beard.
     It was in fact the same man who had seen me eating the
cum of the bum behind the dumpster.
     He pulled again on the door, and the flimsy copper
latch broke.  He stood there watching me for several long
seconds while I slowly stroked myself, my hands gliding over
the smooth lubricated folds of my sex.  I didn’t stop, I
couldn’t stop I was so terrified of him, this great fat
black beast leering down at me from so high up.  I had
nowhere to go.  I was locked in.  All I could do was stroke
myself and try to make it all go away.  When I saw him pull
out his penis I simply upped the tempo, grinding my palm
into my clitoris while I buried my fingers into my moistened
cunt.
     His cock was thick, thicker than any I had ever seen
before, not that I had seen many, but not so big as I had
been led to believe of black men.  It hung just past the end
of his hand, not quite hard yet, and he hefted it as if it
weighed a ton to pull his testicles out from his pants.  The
whole ensemble stuck out from under a thick, wide belly.  He
pulled on it once, all the time staring at me with a wide
blank expression.  I said before that I get hit on a lot by
black men, well, considering that he still wasn’t hard and
that he looked at me straight in the eye I had to conclude
that he was either pretty drunk or pretty far gone on
something.
     Then he started to pee.
     He had aimed it at my feet, but as the jet grew in
force it climbed up my legs, the thick warm stream showering
the dried cum from my thighs as I stroked myself with a
violent ferocity.
     He had come into this stall to pee, and he didn’t care
that I was there, he had to go.  All I was to him was
something to pee on.  This was worse than the other men, to
whom I was nothing more than a body to fuck, or a mouth to
come in.  I was now a receptacle for human waste, and as the
piss splashed my hands I rubbed myself even harder, but it
wasn’t enough to make the humiliation and shame go away.
The warm yellow fluid ran under my fingertips, mixing with
my juices as I ran my fingers deeper and deeper into me,
trying to make the man vanish, but the whole time staring
mesmerized at him while he fixated me with his stare.
     Then he stole a glance down at my body, shooting out
two last squirts of piss, both hitting me square in the
chest, a few drops splattering my face.  I looked down at
his hand and saw that his thing had grown a bit.  It was now
much thicker than the store clerk’s, but not much longer
than Mickey's, about seven inches.  It was stiff, sticking
straight out, and it was getting closer.  I looked up at the
black man as he stepped up to me, the shower stall door
swinging shut behind him.  I tried to back away, but had
nowhere to go.  Stepping on the ledge that kept water from
running out onto the street I shot up, nearly to the height
of the black man, and then smelled his fetid breath just a
moment before his hands clutched my breasts violently.
     “Please.” I cried, but I didn’t know what I was asking
for.  I felt his thick stubby dick jabbing me in the thigh
and I put a shaking hand down to touch it. “Do y-you want me
to suck you.?” I asked gibbering with fear.  He smiled, and
leaned hard into me moving his hands down instead to clutch
my ass pulling my hips close to him while shoving me hard
against the rickety wooden wall.  Resigned to what would
happen next I twisted my hips the way he was pulling and
bent my knees, spreading my thighs apart.  I took his penis
and gingerly guided it to my hole.
     Then, carefully I worked myself down onto the fat
shaft, which filled me up so deeply inside that I thought
someone had inflated a balloon inside me.  He began to push,
causing me to gasp for air with every thrust.  His hot, sour
wine breath pelted me as his thick wiry beard scratched my
face.  His strong hands grappled with my wide flanks,
pulling them apart, digging deep into the supple flesh of my
ass as he continued to pump deep inside me, splitting me in
two.
     Supported by his firm grip I lifted my legs
involuntarily, trying to ease the pressure on the walls of
my vagina.  His weight kept me pinned to the back wall,
which creaked uncomfortably under my bare back.  I wrapped
my legs around his sides, but he was too fat for me to reach
around him.  With some effort I extracted my hands from the
weight of his tummy and clutched his shoulders, as much to
keep from slipping down as to have something to squeeze to
fend off the insufferable stuffing which was not so much
painful as it was incredibly intrusive.
     I surrendered myself wholly to this mans primal
instincts, twisting my hips to accommodate his thrusts.
Thankfully I had been sopping wet down there, not to mention
soaked with glycerin, so he had had no trouble filling me
up.  The further I twisted my hips and spread my legs the
deeper he was able to plunge his shaft inside me, hammering
away at my insides, his thick belly mashing down on my
chest, tummy, and bush.  I could feel the pressure it
created with every thrust of his penis on my clitoris,
grinding my little bud into his driving shaft.  I could
smell his thick secretions of sweat combined with recumbent
filth accumulated from years of living on the streets.  I
knew that he was spreading that filth all over my cum
splattered, urine drenched body, and pushing it deep inside
my hole as the first bum who had raped me had tried to do.
     The rape seemed to go on forever, I was on the verge of
fainting.  I could feel his thick hot drool running down my
cheek, which he rested his mouth against as he hunched over
trying to force himself further and further up inside me.
His sweat was all over me, I could feel it running down my
sides in thick runnels, pooling up in the thick folds of
skin that I had made in my scrunched up position.
     Then he seized up, thrusting so hard that he
practically bounced me in the air, locking his arms around
me painfully, his coarse scratchy lips smashed against mine,
panting and heaving his fetid breath into my mouth, drooling
onto my wide lips, almost as wide as his thick black mouth.
His orgasm racked up inside me, I couldn’t feel it but my
mind raced with images of giant blobs splattering into my
unprotected cervix, racing into my uterus, big black sperm
seeking out my defenseless egg.
     He had been motionless for several seconds when I dared
to open my eyes.  I started to bring my legs down, shifting
my weight to take some of it off of his strong hands.  His
calm dark eyes were calm, but bloodshot now.  When my feet
found the ledge he lightened his grip on my buttocks,
caressing them gently now, running one finger up and down
the length of my crack like Mickey does sometimes, but also
rubbing my anus.
     I have to admit that after the violent thrusting it
felt good and I relaxed into his soft round girth, letting
him caress me, letting his lips flutter over mine, feeling
his shaft soften inside me but still filling me up.  I
didn’t dare try to push myself off of him, and I waited for
him to get bored.  He removed one hand from my butt and
brought it up to cradle my breast, which swung free in the
motion.  He gently ran his callused finger over the nipple,
watching it intently.
     Not knowing what to do I started to gently knead his
shoulders.  He obviously wanted a little afterplay, or
perhaps to appreciate my body which he had not bothered to
do before ravishing me and planting his seed inside me.  I
played along, even kissing him on the cheek.
     “That was great.” I whispered, and as his eyes darted
at mine I gave him a cautious open-mouthed kiss.  Returning
the kiss in kind he would have been a much better kisser
than Evan had the sour smell not been accompanied by a sour
taste, but I didn’t stop him.  I just wanted to satisfy him
so he would leave me alone.  I still had to shave and clean
up and Mickey was probably already at the restaurant waiting
for me.
     The thought of facing Mickey for some reason didn’t
bother me.  I had never much cared about him sexually.  But
Arnold and Evan, could I look them in the eye, they who so
openly lusted after me, Evan who practically owned me, could
I let them see me without being aware of how cheapened I had
become?  That I had become the drinker of other men's sperm
and now had taken a giant black mans semen in my vagina?
     Finally the black mans penis had shrunk enough that the
force of my pussy pushed it out.  I felt it fall wetly
against my thigh, and felt my vagina closing up behind it, a
great pressure on my inside had been released, like that
sore and uncomfortable feeling you get right after you poo.
He let go of my ass, which I again had to admit left me
feeling kind of let down, losing the one source of small
pleasure I had felt I was left with the sore emptiness in my
tummy, a scratched and bruised backside, and still no hope
for a shower.
     He took a step back, looking me over.  I looked him
over, he was more repulsive than before.  Rather than tall
and proud as when he had come in he was slumped and tired,
his great belly sticking out even further over his fat dick,
which was dribbling a long dangly trail of cum.  I was still
terrified of him, and hoped he was ready to leave now that
he had had his fun, but I didn’t want to offend him, and
when I saw him look down at his cum capped shaft I went to
my knees.
     Down here the smell was worse, but not as bad as the
first bums.  His penis had been cleansed in the deluge of my
own juices, but the odor of urine and other bacteria was
still strong.  Nevertheless I reached out and took his penis
with my mouth, the act almost forming a habitual nature so
often had I been made to do it in the past couple of hours.
My hands planted on the ground I could hardly reach up to
the mans thick black penis, which I had little trouble
taking inside my wide mouth, though I had to open it all the
way.  I lapped up the trailing vestiges of semen off of the
head, noticing the familiar briny taste that the other bum
had had, and gulping it down with no problem.  In fact,
after I was done I licked my lips to get the last remnants
and returned to suck a new drop that had leaked out of his
penis, an effort that rewarded me with another surge of rich
briny sperm.  I sucked again, trying to milk more of the
jizz from the black bum’s cock, but at last he pushed my
head off of his flaccid shaft, pushed it back into the folds
of his pants, turned around and disappeared out the door,
leaving me kneeling in a puddle of his piss formed in the
obviously backed up drain.  I rolled the last drops of semen
around on my tongue for a moment before swallowing it,
wishing he had not planted so much inside me.
     Then, as usual, I caught myself.  I don’t know how I
kept myself from screaming out loud, but instead I collapsed
in a fetal ball into the puddle of cooling piss, shivering
at the memory of my having so willingly dropped down to my
knees to give up the last of my dignity to the man who had
just raped me.  It was so much worse than it would have been
had I let the clerk have me.  Perhaps he would have been
nice, he certainly cared a lot about pleasing me, which was
more than any of the bums had done.
     But there I was lying face down in a pool of piss
instead, wishing I had let a violent ogre of a man finish
raping me and plant his seed in me while lying on my back on
a counter top in a convenience store.  I had sunk pretty
low.  Scarcely a single man had touched me without forcing
his shaft into my mouth, and I felt for a moment that I’d
never eat real food again, but live on a diet of semen for
the rest of my life.
     If only Evan’s sperm tasted as good as that of the
bums.
     That thought woke me up.  I jerked up to my knees and
remembered again where I was and what I had to do.  I would
just shave myself, get dressed, and leave.  I picked up the
razor off the floor where I had set it next to the glycerin,
only the glycerin had been tipped over and now mixed with
the pee to form the puddle I was kneeling in.  My crotch was
still well lubricated, glycerin doesn’t readily rub off, but
when I reached down between my crotch to feel for wetness I
realized I had no reason to worry.
     Thick runnels of the black mans semen were filling up
the folds of my labia.  The semen that had just moments
before been so succulent to me now disgusted me.  It served
as a bold reminder of the violent intrusion I had
experienced, a final insult dripping out of my most private,
well until recently, regions.
     I had nothing to wash myself off with but the puddle of
piss, so I had no choice but to live with it.  I started to
work on my bush, shaving it off in big wads, not caring any
more about my tan line, just determined to get the job done.
After a couple strokes I realized I had nothing to clean the
razor with, so gritting my teeth I shook it out in the
puddle of pee and continued.
     When I reached my labia I had completely shaved the
front portion bald.  Clumps of dried semen and filth from
the day’s misadventures had left it a knotted mass and I was
glad to be free of the whole mess.  I then sat down with my
back to the wall, trying to ignore the cold piss that welled
around my butt cheeks and sent shivers where it touched my
asshole.  I spread my legs wide apart, and pulled my lips
together where the chafing would be worst.  The sperm
continued to dribble out, coating my lips with its gooey
essence, but being so close I didn’t stop or try to clean
myself, I just shaved another patch and dipped it in the
puddle of pee.
     That’s when the door opened up and two boys stood
staring.
     I stared back in half a panic for a moment, but had
been hit so many times that day, a couple more 7 or 8-year-
old kids didn’t keep me stunned for long.  “Shut the door!”
I ordered, but one stood defiantly.
     “The men’s bathrooms are out of order, so my dad told
me to use this!”
     I looked back at them, they were both, of course
gawking at me, astonished to see a naked woman much less one
in such a position.  I wondered for a moment if they knew
what it was that was running out of my vagina in thick
creamy strands into the puddle I sat in.
     “What are you doing?” the same boy asked, a short kid
with short brown hair.  Behind them I saw that the parking
lot had begun to fill up, people were walking back and
forth.
     “I’m shaving.”  I pleaded, “Please close the door.”  I
was futilely trying to contain the flow of jism from my
vagina with one hand.  The other had gone modestly to my
nipples, spreading semen all over them.
     The short boy’s friend had tried to tug him away from
the door, but was ignored.  “Why are you shaving?”
     “Can’t you see I’m naked?  Please just leave me alone.”
     “Well, let me come in and we will.”  The boy declared.
     I felt a strange crawling feeling creep up over me, and
once again, I knew I was under yet another mans power.  I
nodded, and the boy came in, his clumsy toes splashing piss
everywhere while the other boy looked I the doorway, which
he held slightly ajar.
     “Where am I supposed to go?” the boy asked, for some
reason ignoring the fact that I was still spread-eagled on
the ground beneath him.  I made a defiant gesture indicating
the puddle I was sitting in.
     “The drain’s backed up-“ I started to say, but the boy
wasted little time in pulling his tiny thing out and letting
go right between my legs a jetstream of piss that made the
puddle foam and sent streams of heat over my freezing
buttocks and into my frozen anus.
     My shock was abated for a moment as the soothing heat
flowed over me, but as the boys piss stream built up it
moved and struck me right where I had been shaving.  I
stared up in horror and fury as preadolescent pee pummeled
my vagina, held open and exposed, washing the steady dribble
of black mans semen into the growing puddle I was sitting
in.  He was smiling, and began to move his thing around,
thoroughly bathing my crotch, rinsing off the rogue hairs
that I had shaved off, leaving my lips smooth and shiny with
little yellow droplets forming where the glycerin had been
rubbed.
     I dropped the razor, standing up enraged, the piss
splashing all over me.  Trying to avoid his stream I knocked
my head on the wall, and slipped, barely catching myself on
the wall as my breasts swung about violently until I
regained my balance by grabbing the boy’s shoulders.  My
chest was right up against his face, and he stopped
urinating as he pulled his head back to avoid being swatted
by my bosom, each one being easily the size of his boyish
head.  “Get the fuck out of here!” I demanded, shaking him.
     “I’m gonna tell my dad.” He screamed, crying.
     Again, the thought of being humiliated before an adult
after having been exposed to children filled me with terror,
“No.  I pleaded, “Don’t do that.”  I tried to force a smile,
“It’s just not polite to pee on people like that.”  But as
quickly as the words were out of my mouth I felt the warm
jet pelting me, this time in the tummy, running down into my
crotch, the hot liquid shooting straight up.  As degrading
as it was it started to feel very good.  Were it not for the
smell…
     I wanted to throttle him, but I just smiled and glanced
at his friend who was watching with glee.  He stuck a finger
out, pointing at my pussy and said, “You got stuff comin'
out of your coochie!”
     I let go of the other boy and looked down.  Indeed, the
bums sperm was dangling from the part in my labia in a long
gooey tail, the boys piss running over my lips and dripping
off the end of the trail of jizz that had dripped down from
deep inside me to hang between my parted legs.
     The boy in front of me stopped peeing again to look,
and I scooped it up with a free hand, “It’s just soap.”  I
tried to explain, cupping my cunt as much out of modesty as
to staunch the endless flow of jizz from my once very
private and sheltered sex.  Now with the hair gone it was
more exposed than ever and I was humiliated to realize that
two small children had been the first to see my loins.
     For years I had had men try to sleep with me, treating
me like a sex object, goosing me in crowds, calling me
names, all sorts of thing.  I knew it was because of my
large chest, wide hips and comparatively narrow waist, not
because I am particularly beautiful.  I also knew that most
men think that goth girls are sluts, which is goes to show
you that most men don’t think.  Most of us are rather
monogamous, and will only date goth guys who respect our
bodies as much as our minds.
     Today, however, it seemed that I had become the object
everyone treated me like, and had thus plummeted to a level
that deserves no respect, dignity, or even the right to
refuse any man her body for anything.  As I stood there legs
bowed, clutching myself to contain a handful of sperm forced
inside me by a large black bum while two little boys pissed
on me and laughed at me while I smiled good humouredly at
them I became convinced that I was indeed a sex object.  I
was nothing more than a hole to be fucked.  At the mercy of
any man who might turn his gaze my way.
     “That’s not soap!” the short boy insisted.  I smiled,
     “No it’s not.” I admitted.
     “Well what is it?” the other boy prodded, while the
short boy grabbed my boob.
     I started to pull away, but as he pinched and squeezed
it I relaxed and let him explore.  He was only six or seven,
he didn’t really know what a breast was for. “It’s cum.”  I
said, responding to their quizzical looks with, “It’s what
comes out of a man’s penis when he-“ I realized the horror
of illustrating the act of sex to these boys.  What if they
wanted to try it? “When he rubs it.”
     “Why’s he rub it?”
     The other boy blurted out, “Because it feels good, my
dad told me all about it.  She was letting a man rub her in
there,” he pointed at my pussy, his finger bare millimeters
away from the split of my labia sticking out over my hand,
“Now she’s gonna have a baby.”
     The thought of that made me shudder, and he continued,
     “Why are you holding it like that?”
     The other boy laughed, “Are you gonna eat it?” they
both burst out laughing.
     “Eat it!” they shouted together.
     I smiled, trying to laugh with them, but for some
reason I was remembering the taste of the black man as I
willingly kneeled in his piss and put my lips over the head
of his cock.  Scooping the puddled goo out of my bare, shiny
labia I raised my cupped hands to my pouting mouth.  My legs
were shaking as I tried to force a laugh for the boys sake,
but when I slowly pushed my tongue out over my bottom lip to
slurp up the puddle of cum I was stung with the acrid bitter
taste of the boys piss.  Looking up they were both staring
at me wide eyed, expectantly, in their innocence forgetting
all about my nudity.  I stuck my tongue into the puddle, the
strong briny taste rolling onto my tongue through the bitter
watery pee and started to lap it up.  I Slurped the goo into
my mouth in great gulps, letting the jizz roll around on my
tongue as it made its way towards my throat and down into my
tummy.  Both boys were making sounds of disgust, but I let
myself get enraptured in the act of degrading myself further
for these boys by the familiar heady flavor of the homeless
man’s strong semen.  It wasn’t as good as the pure stuff
was, it wasn’t as pleasant as having gotten to lick it right
from the source-
     The slamming door shocked me.  The boys were gone.  I
could hear them running away and laughing.  Cum utterly
covered my mouth and chin and I scrambled to finish the mess
and get on with dressing myself.  Licking my fingers clean
and pushing what cum had run down to my chin I realized that
my bag was no longer hanging on the door!  Had the boys
taken it?
     Standing on the ledge I propped myself up to look over
the doorway.  There on the sidewalk were my bag and my
dress.  They must have been knocked down when the boys ran
off.  I looked around the parking lot, and to my horror saw
several people, some teenagers skateboarding at the far end
of the lot, a couple of girls in bikini’s with their tight,
hard bodies walking towards the beach.  To my right, only a
couple cars away from the one parked in front of the shower
stall I was in, I saw two middle aged men, conservative but
working class types eyeballing the girls.  The kids were no
longer in sight.
     Watching the girls I calculated that the men would be
looking the other way as they got closer to the beach so I
waited for my moment, knots building up inside me, heat
flushing my loins, my legs and hands shaking like leaves in
a storm.  When the moment was right I didn’t hesitate.
     I pushed the door open and took a small step onto the
warm cement sidewalk, then one large step, putting me in
reach of my bag, then bent double over to retrieve it.  What
I hadn’t taken into account was the strong breeze that came
up and tore the door out of my trembling hands, slamming it
back into the stall with a loud cracking sound as I snatched
the sack.
     Looking up from my bent in half position I saw through
my legs both men turning to look, seeing my ass and pussy
spread wide on display for them.  I stood straight up,
starting to turn and saw the two girls strutting their firm
tits and tight asses under their slinky bikini’s looking as
well.  They burst out into laughter as my breasts fell back
down into place and turned and walked away.  Heat flushed
into my face, my groin started to burn and my stomach was on
the verge of a seizure.  I reached out and grabbed for the
shower stall door, determined to not let another human being
see me naked for as long as I lived.
     But the door was stuck.
     Maybe it was the boys slamming it, or the black bums
forceful tearing at the door, but it had fallen and knocked
itself behind the door jam, where it resisted my efforts to
pull it back open, and wouldn’t swing inwards.  I could feel
my boobs slapping against my rips as I desperately seized at
the door.  All my worst nightmares had come true.  It was
anyone’s worst nightmare.  I was standing alone in a public
place utterly naked with nothing to cover myself.  My world
tunneled down to a narrow field, my hands and the door.  Let
me in, I silently begged, make it all stop.  My eyes were
going gray, and I started to become worried that I would
faint, to be found naked with cum dribbling out of me, and
my panic grew.
     Then a warm hand touched my shoulder.
     I jumped, spinning around, my back slamming into the
wall of the door.  I was facing the two men, both in their
early forties, both clean-shaven and balding.  One had a gut
pushing over his belt, the other was really skinny.  They
both wore large shorts and had knobby knees.  They wore T-
shirts that said Santa Cruz and California respectively.
The fat balding man put his hand out, presumably to steady
my shaking body, and it worked.  I froze solid.
     He said, “Hey hon, we’re just trying to help.”
     The other guy leaned forward, his eyes involuntarily
darting from my face to the ground to scanning my ample
flesh exposed for him and anyone else to see, “Yeah, why
don’t you let us have a look at the door?”
     I looked at the other guy, who was looking down at my
chest.  He looked up suddenly, blushing and glanced away,
“Yeah, let Charley here have a look.”
     Have a look, I thought, they could already see
everything.  As much as any man I would ever know would see.
But they just smiled, waiting politely, their faces looking
in every direction from embarrassment, but always returning
to steal a glimpse of my nudity.
     I steeled myself to move, then took a step from the
door.  They were so close that I had to walk towards the
chubby guy, since there was nowhere else to move.  He held
still for a moment, perhaps as mesmerized by my public
exposure as I was.
     Charley stepped up to the door, but he took a moment to
put his hand out and touch my back, gently nudging me, or
perhaps trying to reassure me that I was in good hands.
“Dan why don’t you take her back to the car?” he said as he
started to examine the door.
     “And let all those skateboarding hooligans see her?”
     I looked into Dan’s eyes imploring his not to make me
go anywhere.  He smiled a polite middle-class gentleman’s
smile at me and shook his head.
     “No Charley, you just get that door open, so this young
lady…” his voice trailed off and I caught him staring at my
bosom, his eyes fixated on my wide, erect nipples which
heaved up and down with my ragged panting breath.  Being
scared wasn’t much different from being fucked, the thought
occurred to me. Dan glanced up into my scared eyes, “Sorry
miss, I’ve just never…” he looked away, and I looked over at
Charley, who was working the door open slowly by pulling it
upwards.  Even doing that, he had his head turned and
fixated on my butt.  I dropped a hand to my bottom, running
it over my cheeks, then realizing it was futile to try and
cover my ample features.  I had a large chest and a wide,
round butt, and men found that desirable.  More so for sex
than for looks, from what it seemed, and that meant that men
would become all the more animal around me than, say,
thinner girls.
     I looked back at Dan, he was looking at me again, both
of us looked down.  When I did I saw a short little puptent
growing in his baggy shorts.  Dan saw that I saw, and turned
to hide it.  My legs were weak, as they had been all along.
The stress was starting to weight heavily on me and I put a
hand out to steady myself, clutching Dan by the shoulder,
“Mister…” I whimpered.  His arms were instantly around me,
supporting me.  My chest was smashed against his, and
resting comfortably on his gut.  One of his arms propped me
up in the center of my back, the other low on my waist.  Too
low, I though, since a hand was firmly planted on my right
butt cheek, bare inches away from my damp, glistening, cum-
drenched vagina.
     I was too short of breath and too scared to object
though.  I was just happy to drift off and let Dan hold me,
the first gentle man I had met since the clerk had taken me
on to his counter.  Before he raped me, that is.  But this
guy reminded me of my dad, firm and protective.  My dad
never looked at me the way Dan did, however.  Then again he
never saw me naked.  I started thinking about my daddy when
Charley saw what I was doing.
     “Dan she’s younger than your daughter for Christ
sakes.”
     “I’m just holding her up.  She’s almost feinted.”
     “Well you’re practically molesting her!”  Charley
shouted.
     I could feel Dan’s shaft pushing against my tummy, just
above my newly shaved groin.  I let him hold me up, pushing
myself against him and rubbing up against his hard thing.  I
heard him gasp, hot air sliding down over my neck and back,
but I was dizzy, enjoying the moment of numbness.  I was
afraid that if I pushed him away I’d feel nervous and
exposed again.
     Was that how I’d gotten into trouble with the other
guys?  By not saying ‘No.’ when I had the chance?
     Pushing the thought back I continued to push myself
against Dan’s penis.  Slowly, so neither he not Charley
would suspect my deliberate intentions.  As long as I did
that, I thought, Dan would hold me and I would feel safe.  I
thought of my dad again, rubbing my tummy into Dan’s dick
made me feel like I was doing my dad, letting him rub
against me like boys did in high school when I didn’t really
realize what they were doing.
     “C’mon honey.  The door’s open.”  I heard faintly.  The
hand dropped from my back and gently pushed me on the
shoulder, trying to encourage me to turn around, but I hung
on tighter, gyrating my pelvis into Dan’s, rubbing my pussy
against his bare thigh.  My hand dropped to touch his thing,
but as I did, my fingers gently exploring the length and
size of his shaft I woke up.  I looked right up into Dan’s
eyes, shock on both our faces.  I tried supporting myself
but found myself leaning even heavier on his arm, his hand
digging deep into the soft flesh of my ass, one finger
rubbing at the edge of my ass.  He must have moved it while
I was zoning out.  I could feel it sliding over the tight
folds of my asshole with the lubrication from my recent
raping.
     I turned to look at Charley.  He stood next to the now
open door staring at me as I let his friend run his roving
finger over my willing asshole, one hand firmly clutching
Dan’s dick.
     I let go, Dan’s hands flew off me like I’d burnt him.
I stooped down, snatched up the swimsuit bag and dashed
inside the stall, my feet landing on damp, but otherwise
dry, cement as the slow seepage had drained out the piss.
The strong breeze had blown away most of the piss odor and I
gratefully stepped into the stall, spinning around to see
Charley and Dan staring at me with wide eyes still, but
unabashed wonder.  I grabbed the door and pulled it from
Charley, who let it go.  “Thank you.” I said sweetly and
honestly with a smile, my voice echoing in the small room.
Then I pulled the door shut and literally tore the bag open
to extract the suit.
     “You need to learn some control.” I heard Charley
saying in low tones outside.
     Dan replied, “How do I control myself with a woman like
that?”
     “She was vulnerable and she needed our help.”
     I barely heard Dan whisper, “But she grabbed my dick.”
     “Your daughters older than she is.”
     I pushed my legs through the tight openings.
     Dan was talking still, “Meg hasn’t put out more than
once a week in five years, I just couldn’t help myself.
What would you have done.”
     Charley laughed aloud, quickly hushing up, thinking I
couldn’t hear as I struggled to pull the suit up past my
waist. He whispered, “She’s just a scared girl-”
     “Did you see her?” Dan butt in, “She had cum on her
mouth.  Her pussy was shaved and dripping wet.  Her whole
ass was slick.  She’s a beach bunny, she probably ran out
just to get our attention.  She must sit in there all day
waiting for guys to come in and…”
     “Dan you are so full of shit!”
     I was frozen, terrified at what Dan thought of me.
     Charley went on.  “I mean she had something on her
mouth, and I know you don’t see a shaved woman every day,
but that doesn’t mean that she’s some beach trollop who puts
out for any man.  I mean what would she want with a couple
of middle aged balding salesmen?”
     “You saw her, she’s short and chubby.  Guys around here
go for those tall tanned girls, that girl was white as a
ghost.”
     There was a pause.  I continued getting into my suit
and realized that my dress was still on the ground outside.
The suit was very tight, as tight as I’d remembered it and
it rode up uncomfortably on my labia, but fortunately
without the painful chafing.  I struggled to make it cover
something of my ass but trying to pull it up to cover my
chest pulled it up tight, again making a thong that ran up
my back exposing my flanks to the world.
     Charley was mumbling, “You really think she’s sitting
in there waiting for us to…”
     I could feel the crotch absorbing the moisture of the
remains of the sperm and my piss drenched backside.  I
pulled one strap up over my shoulder preparing to thrust my
breasts into the tiny one-piece when the door flew open.
Dan stood there with one hand held out indicating me while
Charley stared on.  I had one hand nestled into the crotch
of the suit trying to relieve pressure and it served to
expose my new baldness for the two men to re-examine.
     Dan must have lost some of his courage, because we all
froze for a moment.  Then he came to his senses, glanced at
Charley and stepped inside letting the door close behind
him.  I stepped back, allowing him more room and saw him
glaring at me with contempt he hadn’t shown before.  He
reached down and started to undo his shorts while I pulled
my hands up to try to cover myself, but Dan stepped closer,
I felt the ledge at my heels and stepped up on it, just like
before.  I closed my eyes and waited.
     Dan wasted no time.  He put his arms around me and
grabbed my ass, slipping one hand down to pull up one leg so
my pussy was open for him to plunge in, which he did.  He
fucked my like that for a long time, his shaft not as thick
as the black mans or the store clerks, but longer.  He was
also more in control, his rhythm steady and deliberate.  He
used my elevated position to get my nipple in his mouth,
though it required some stooping.  In a few minutes he was
fucking and sucking me, sending shivers through my body,
each thrust a gentle, painful reminder of the abuse my
tender body had taken so far that day.  I gasped with each
thrust, moaning and groaning at his incessant lust, pushing
my hips out to take him deeper in the hopes that he would
come sooner, but this was no boy.  Being as old as he was he
took a long time to finish, stopping every once and a while
to catch his breath.  When he seemed like he was going to
start again I would kiss him, trying to buy my aching vagina
a little more time, but it wouldn’t stop him, it just
encouraged him, and prevented the pleasant shivers I got
when he sucked so artfully on my nipples.
     “You like it don’t you?” he asked several times, “This
is what you wanted isn’t it?”
     Every time he asked I just kissed him, or thrust my
nipple back in his mouth, letting him drive his long dick
inside me, spreading my lips apart.  At one pint I
remembered the cum that had run so freely out of me, and I
said, “When you come, pull out.”
     “Is that what you like?” he grinned, “You like it when
guys cum on your mouth?”  He started thrusting harder,
causing me to moan harder and louder, “Is that what you did
to the last guy?”
     I nodded, unable to speak, hoping he would understand.
He started pumping harder, faster and faster, until I was
gasping in short squeaks.  He ran his lips over mine, which
engulfed his over and over as he built up for orgasm.
     When he started to come I gasped, “Don’t come inside
me, put it in my mouth, please.”
     But he was already coming, he pulled back, sliding his
orgasming dick out of my smooth slick vagina.  His hand
clutched the base of his dick in an awkward way and though
cum dribbled heavily off the tip none shot out.  He had
already come inside me, and I knew that the first shot was
the one with all the sperm, but he was waiting, expecting me
to take the rest of it.  For the fourth time, with as many
men in one afternoon, I knelt down and parted my thick
luscious lips for a strange mans cock as life giving semen
ran through them onto my tongue, filling my world with the
scent and taste of semen.
     I knelt there, moving my mouth up and down over his
shaft, letting him milk every last drop from his manhood
into my body, a vessel for his pleasures.  I submitted
myself to his guilty desires, proving true to his theory
that I was nothing but a beach slut who waited for men to
take her in any way they wished, all for the taste of his
semen.
     I licked and sucked on his shaft until it was clean but
for my saliva, and it was soft.  I felt his goo dribbling
out of my hole as I knelt, my legs spread apart, and I
looked up into his soft adoring eyes.  All trace of contempt
was gone, and I thought again of my dad as he looked on so
lovingly, his penis in my mouth getting softer with every
gentle suck or squeeze with my thick pouting lips.  He
seemed taller now, more confident, while my tongue did laps
around the head of his long penis.  He ran his hands through
my hair enjoying the service I was giving him.
     He hadn’t tasted so good.  He was lot like Evan, though
it was bitter and smelled bad, but I was eager to please
him, as I was eager to please my father when I would run
home as a child with an A+ paper from school.  I swallowed
his semen with no difficulty this time, occupied as I was
with examining the taste and pleasuring his penis.
     “All right little lady,” he began, “That’s enough.” And
he pulled his penis out of my mouth.
     “Yes sir,” I said, “Can I go now?”
     As he put his thing away and made himself decent he
said, “Well don’t you think it’s only fair that you do
Charley too?”
     I looked up at him, scared again, the warm comfortable
feeling slipping away as he looked on with displeasure.  I
nodded my head to him and looked down.
     A few moments later he was gone, and Charley had
entered, looking nervous.  I waited for him to make a move ,
but when he didn’t I realized that I was going to have to
make it for him.  I was scared of making Dan angry, so I
stood up, put my arms around Charley's tall shoulders and
kissed him, gently, then with growing passion on the lips.
     Between kisses Charley mumbled, “Dan says you like it
in the mouth.”
     I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t.  I was playing a
part and I had to see it through, otherwise I might have
three men’s cum inside me.  I decided I wouldn’t let Dan
down, but I would also cover my bases, I mean what’s one
more mouthful of sperm.
     “I love it when a men lets it go in my mouth.”  I said
as convincingly as I could.  Then I reached down and started
to stroke his cock through his shorts.
     Charley let me kiss him again, but when I started to go
down he stopped me.
     “Uh, I’m a bit old fashioned, could we do it normal for
a bit first?”
     Still playing the part I smiled broadly at him.  I
suddenly pushed the bathing suit down, relieving the awful
pinching of the suit against my sides and crotch.
Completely naked now I saw Charley looking me over with
growing interest.  He put his hands out and started to
fondle me every which way, an action which I found very
soothing after all the men who had just forced their way
into my sex.  He kissed me all over and when I turned around
he moved up behind me.  I stepped up onto the ledge, pushed
my butt out a bit, and reached between my legs to take
Charley’s dick.  He had pulled it out and I guided it inside
me.  Taken from behind was much nicer as all the bruising
had been against my pelvic bone, though I was still very
sore.  Charley had a nice penis.  It wasn’t too long and its
shaft wasn’t too thick, but he wasn’t too small either.  It
fit inside me nicely and I let him have his way with me,
running his hands over my body pushing himself deep inside
me, kissing my neck and shoulders and telling me the whole
time I was beautiful.  It was undoubtedly the single most
pleasurable sex I had ever had.  My hands being free to
gently stroke myself I found myself rising to climax
quickly, grinding my ass back to meet Charley’s steady deep
thrusts so as to increase my own pleasure.
     For a man I hadn’t wanted to touch a few minutes before
I found myself deeply aroused, but then, considering what I
had been through today, being at least half in control was
definitely a big part of that.  For as long as it had taken
Dan it took Charley longer, pleasuring me with his deep
steady thrusting while I brought myself off with my hands.
Charley would stroke my nipples whenever I came, sending
lines of electricity through my body until I was screaming
and panting, gasping for air, unable to stand.
     Charley had stopped, he was just holding me up, still
buried inside my sex.
     “What’s wrong,” I said, “I want you to finish.”
     He was silent for a moment, “I already did.” He finally
said, guiltily.
     My high shattered.  Why wouldn’t anyone listen to me.
Why did he have to ruin such a wonderful experience by
coming inside me, planting more chances for me to get
pregnant.  But then it wasn’t the news so much as the
revelation that I had so willingly given myself over to
these men that brought me down so low.  It had been one
thing for me to stand in fear as the clerk molested me, or
the bums forcefully had their way with me.  It was another
altogether to be encouraging total strangers to have sex
with me, to come in my mouth.
     Charley was trying to be nice, “If you’d like there’s
probably some left.”
     I just shook my head, “I have to go meet my boyfriend.”
Tears were welling up in my eyes
     Charley seemed shocked to hear this, but he just let
go, his softening dick slipping out of me.  I bent down to
retrieve my suit while Charley stared sheepishly around him,
then he moved towards the door.  I wanted to thank him, or
something, but I was too distraught at this new turn of
events in my life.  Was this how I held up to pressure?  Was
this how I behaved when things were against me?  Total
submission?
     Pulling on the bathing suit distracted me long enough
to compose myself as Charley walked out, Dan craning his
neck to look in and catch another glimpse of me.
     After I was dressed I pushed open the stall door to
find Dan and Charley waiting.  They jerked to attention, but
I just strode out and picked up my dress, then made my way
for the bathrooms with as much dignity as I could muster.  I
could feel Charley’s sperms dribbling out of my vagina,
dripping down my thigh, but I pretended to ignore it as I
brushed past the two of them without comment, making my way
to the bathrooms where hopefully they had running water and
a mirror.  I was conscious of the stares I was attracting
from people getting into and out of their cars.  The tiny
suit exposed my entire backside, but I just acted as if this
was normal, and it was since most women went around in less
than I had on at the beach.
     To get to the bathroom I had to pass by the teenagers
who were skateboarding off of the parking curbs.  They
stopped, one by one, to stare as I walked past, each one
transfixed, several whistling or calling out to me to come
join them.  I plodded resolutely on towards the bathroom.
     When I reached the door I turned around and saw the
crowd of skaters, still staring after me.  I looked straight
at one of them, a tall boy older than the rest, winked and
blew him a kiss.  Then I walked into the bathroom.
     The door was an iron grate that was chained open to the
wall, but I hadn’t seen any women around the parking area
and assumed I would have a few minutes.  I dropped my dress
and my purse, pulled the skimpy suit off my body, cranked
the sink to full and proceeded to douse myself in water.
     At least I would be clean when I met Mickey later.
     Well… most of me…
     Rubbing the last of my smeared make-up off of my face I
could feel the heat of Charley’s sperm running down my
thigh.  I knew that without a douche or an enema bag that
there would be no way to purge the excess sperm swimming
around inside of me, but I started splashing myself there
all the same.  It was a sheer joy to feel the cold water
rinsing the days filth from my skin, letting all of the cum
and piss run off me onto the floor to disappear into the
drain in the center of the room.
     But the thought of all those tiny little sperm in my
vagina wouldn’t leave me alone.  I knew I didn’t have
anything in my purse that would serve to flush me out, and
even though I knew I might already be pregnant or diseased,
the thought of leaving all that semen inside me to increase
my chances was making me weak and nervous.
     I thought that maybe if I pushed something up inside me
it would help purge the infestation of unwelcome jism, but
the biggest thing I had was a mascara stick, and that was
only three inches long.
     Then I heard scuffling at the door.  I turned to look
but saw nothing, hearing only a telling “Shh.”
     It must have been the boys.  I started to kick myself
for having winked, and grabbed for my suit.
     But then I realized that they might have something for
my problem.
     I startled, shaking my head.  I couldn’t possibly be
considering asking one of them to have sex with me just to
pump out the excess sperm in me could I?  I didn’t know
which thought was worse.  Further violating my promise to
Mickey to be faithful or to have to look him in the eye with
the sperm of three men swimming around inside me.  What if
he wanted to fool around, what if he touched me and found
that my sex had been had by another man, how could I explain
that I was still his faithful girlfriend.
     I heard some more scuffling, and clutching the skimpy
suit to my chest looked up, seeing two small faces peering
in.  They both vanished as suddenly.
     “Hey.” I whispered.
     No reply.
     “You can come in.” I said, my legs shaking and my tummy
quivering.  This was the worst yet.  Before I had been
violently taken, scared into submission, and caught while in
shock.  Now I was not only myself, but I was actively
soliciting another invasion into my privacy and my dignity.
What was worse, I was doing it from two peeping tom
teenagers, hardly out of puberty.
     But still they didn’t come out.
     I took a step towards the doorway, their shadows
clearly outlined on the floor.  I clutched the suit to my
chest, then realized that I would have to show myself anyway
if I was going to let one of them have me.  Besides, if they
were reluctant to listen, perhaps my body would convince
them to be bolder.
     Dropping the suit and taking a deep breath I rounded
the corner and stepped into the blinding sun.
     It only took a moment for my eyesight to return.  I was
looking at two very young teenagers, possibly younger than
Evan.  Further away the entire crowd of skateboarders, maybe
ten boys were staring.  Obviously they had been watching the
two younger boys attempt to catch a glimpse of me.
     Ten ,maybe more, boys staring at me, naked in full
view.  My pale white skin, shining with water still dripping
off my nipples and beading up on my glycerin coated labia,
shaved and exposed for all to see.  I wanted to dart back
inside, but the damage was done, and I still didn’t know
what to do about the sperm inside me.
     Shaking, on the verge of tears, I looked at one of the
two boys, a small guy with longish brown hair falling in
greasy locks over his shoulders.  Forcing a weak smile on my
lips I said,
     “Don’t you want to come in?”
     He looked at his friend, then at the crowd of gawkers.
He took a step towards me, his face dotted with tiny
pimples, braces on his teeth.  He looked at his friend once
more, then reached out, taking me in his arms, and planted a
kiss on me, his braces rubbing painfully against my soft
lips.  I let him kiss me, running his hand down my body,
while everyone watched me, naked, taking this young boy.  To
them it must have seemed that I was asking him for it, and I
was.  Just a wanton slut throwing myself around at any man
who comes near.
     The other boy, a young curly haired boy stood up
straight and barked, “What about me?  It was my idea.”  He
was younger than the one who now held me.  The boy kissing
me stopped, and clumsily pushed me towards the bathroom, for
privacy fortunately.  As we were walking in he turned over
his shoulder and said, “You can do her next.”
     Do her.  That’s what they were doing, all of them.  The
thought of letting two boys take me made me mad, but I
couldn’t tell him why I was asking him to do it.  I had to
let them believe what they thought:  That I was just a slut
who couldn’t wait for a dick in her pussy.
     Stopping, I turned around and put my hand on the boy’s
shaft.  It was already rock hard.  I pulled down his baggy
swimming trunks just enough to reveal it and wrapped my hand
over its length.  It was pretty small, shorter than Evans
and not as thick, though it bowed out in the middle.  He was
staring at me with wide eyes, “M-my names… Mitch.” He
stammered unable to believe what was happening to him.  I
could understand why.  He wasn’t an attractive boy, but like
Evan.  He was a geeky pimple faced kid.  He was gangly,
greasy, and for a thirteen year old had already started
working on a beer gut.  He had probably never even kissed a
girl, and probably wouldn’t for years.  I imagined that I
was building up to be the single biggest thrill of his life.
     He was gasping from the stroking I was giving him.  I
realized I had to explain the rules to him.
     “Mitch, I want you to make love to me.  I want you to
fuck me, right here, right now,” then I squeezed his shaft a
little harder, he gasped again, “but I don’t want you to cum
in me.  If you cum in me I’ll get in trouble.”  I realized I
would have to offer him an incentive to help avoid what Dan
and Charley had done.
     “When you start to get close pull out, and I’ll finish
you off with my mouth.”  With that I planted another kiss on
him, letting me feel the softness and lusciousness of my
lips.  I let him imagine what I would do with those lips.
“I love the taste of cum, Mitch.  All I want is a taste of
your cum.”
     Then I let him go and looked for a place to lie down.
I grabbed my dress off the floor and spread it out on a spot
where there wasn’t any water, not that it mattered much; it
was still damp from the bathroom where I’d eaten Evans
sperm.  I lay down on my back, while Mitch pulled his shorts
off, leaving him naked but for a pair of sneakers, which he
left on.  He lay down on top of me, hands and knees first,
then crushed me as he tried to lie up against me, clumsily
not knowing what to do with his arms and legs.  He started
prodding me with his little thing, not knowing how to guide
it in, and I reached down and took it, aligning it with my
vagina and putting my hand on his bony butt and gently
pulling.
     That was the last gentle thing that happened.  For the
next five minutes Mitch lost control, stopping every minute
or so as if about to cum.  I would ask him to put it in my
mouth, but he would say ‘Just a bit longer.  You feel so
good.’ Or ‘You’re so beautiful.’  I let him pummel away at
him, after all he was doing me a favor, I owed it to him to
let him have a good time though his skinny penis and jerky
movements gave me little in the way of pleasure.
Nevertheless I tried to make it better for him by matching
his thrusting and running my hands over his smooth boyish
ass.  I kissed him a lot, trying to show him how to make
love to a grown woman and generally live up to the greatest
experience of his young life.  I wrapped my legs around his
narrow body, and ground my soft plush hips into his bony
pelvis.
     But when he started to cum he lost control, pushing
down on me, forcing me to take his sperm deep inside me,
totally unaware of me, or anything else for that matter.  He
just shook and then froze on top of me.
     “I’m sorry.” He finally said, pulling off of me, as if
he was ashamed.  He sat up, looking down at my body, my
breasts smashed flat on my chest, my legs spread wide with
my feet still resting on his hips, my pussy spread open
wide, still digesting his unwelcome bath of semen.  I
couldn’t believe it.  Why couldn’t anyone listen, now I had
four men’s sperm inside me.  The thought of having exposed
myself to all those men, and having betrayed Mickey yet
again with a near child made me want to cry.
     “Oh Mitch-“ I started saying, but I couldn’t tell him
what was really on my mind, I had to pretend that I was
disappointed that I hadn’t gotten my sperm.  Mitch blurted
out,
     “I still have some left.”  With that he hopped to his
feet and scampered around to my head, kneeling down and
offering me up his penis, still erect, but covered with
bubbling globs of beige goo.
     What could I do?  I had told him I craved the taste of
sperm, he was just trying to be nice.  For the umpteenth
time that day, I leant over to open my lips and take a man’s
penis in my mouth.  Opening my mouth I licked my lips and
pushed my little tongue out.  Then a scuffling sound alerted
me to the door, and between my spread legs I could see four
or five faces peering in.  They had seen the whole show, and
were now staring at my wide-open labia as I craned my neck
to sample the last dribbled of semen from Mitch’s mouth.  I
couldn’t stop.  Something inside made me continue, leaving
my legs open while all those boys stared at me.  I started
lapping up the drops of Mitch’s jizz, then took the thin
shaft in my mouth, rolling my tongue over it and running my
plush lips up and down the length of his shaft while Mitch
moaned hysterically.
     Having tasted Mitch’s sperm, a faintly bleachy but
otherwise bland taste I let him go and laid back down.  “It
was great Mitch.”
     “Can I be next?” a cry went up from the crowd at the
door.  “I’ll cum in your mouth.”  The boys burst out
laughing, but the little curly haired boy strode out from
the crowd, only to be grabbed by another, bigger boy.  The
big boy, who must have been almost 18 pulled him back and
stepped up to the front.
     “How about it miss?”  he asked politely, “I mean, can
we uh…” but shyness or just plain embarrassment stopped his
voice.
     I propped myself up on my elbows.  With all these boys
watching it would be humiliating, but I was already
humiliated, tears welling up in my eyes and my breathing
short and quick.  The thought of one more stranger sampling
my body was terrifying to say the least, but now I not only
had Dan’s, Charley’s and the black mans sperm inside me, but
Mitch’s too.  I don’t know why I thought that letting
another man fuck me would pump the sperm out, but I was
desperate for anything at this point to reduce the chances
I’d get pregnant.
     “If you promise to cum in my mouth.” I blurted out, my
stomach seizing up at what I had just asked for.  In front
of a growing crowd of boys, my legs spread wide, I had just
offered to trade sex for a mouthful of cum.
     The older boy gestured over his shoulder at the group,
“For all of us?” he asked, smiling again.
     I looked up and counted almost twelve smiling young
acne ridden faces.
     Looking back at the older boy I shook my head, closing
my legs and starting to pick myself up.
     He said, “That’s the deal.” Calmly, though I could see
his hands were shaking.
     How could I endure twelve boys fucking me, pummeling me
with their thin and thick shafts?  Would any of them be able
to control themselves better than Mitch had, or even Dan and
Charley for that matter?  I realized right then and there
that my plan was futile, even if I did manage to pump out
the semen there would still be sperm untouchable in my
uterus.  Now the sperm of four men.  At that I realized that
I might wind up with the sperm of sixteen men inside me if I
was to let this continue.
     “No,” I whimpered, “No, please just leave me alone.”
     But the boys were there in force, I had already offered
myself to one of them, and he didn’t seem about to give up
his claim.  Not with the twelve of them backing him up.  I
began to get scared.  Real scared.  I was losing control of
the situation again, and realized that the only hope I had
was to give into them.  That way I could, perhaps, keep them
from coming inside me again.
     But I had made the older boy mad.  He took a meaningful
stride towards me.  I don’t know if he was ready to really
rape me yet, but I was so scared that having all the other,
younger boys looking on might hurt his pride if I didn’t
placate him.
     “I’m sorry.” I sat up, crossing my legs and putting my
hands in my lap.  I could feel Mitch’s cum gathering in my
labial folds. “I’m just still sore from Mitch.”  I tried to
explain, not wanting to admit that I had been had by so many
men that day, or to the extent that I was sore.  “I don’t
have any protection from pregnancy, and I was afraid…” I ran
out of things to say, so I added, “There are so many of
you.”
     The older boy seemed satisfied.  He had saved his
pride, and, of course, he was still going to get to have me.
He shooed Mitch away with his hand, Mitch scampered off to
find his shorts, then he turned to the boys and shouted for
them to leave, to go outside and wait until I was ready for
them.  He seemed to have taken charge of the distribution of
my body.
     As the boys scurried out he sat down next to me,
running his hands down my back and sides, reaching up to
touch my breasts, “I’ve never been with a girl who’s tits
were as big as yours.”  He said cradling my boob.
     “Please,” I asked submissively, “Don’t let them all in
here to fuck me.” I rubbed my crotch for added emphasis, to
remind his that I was sore.
     “Well you can give some of them blow jobs, right?” he
asked, but it wasn’t so much a question as a matter of fact
statement.  That would certainly help, but the thought of
that much cum, the thought of giving myself to so many boys,
there was no way I could submit myself to the most degrading
act I could to twelve strangers who weren’t old enough to
drive.
     He went on, pushing his hand down to my pussy where he
explored freely as I moved my hands for him, “That’s what
you said to Mitch wasn’t it?”  I looked at him questioningly
and he explained, “That you love eating cum.”
     Caught in the lie I had no choice but to nod nervously.
     He smiled and pulled his shorts down, pushing me down
onto my dress, “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll let you eat
mine like you did Mitch.” Then he climbed on top and with
only slightly more elegance than Mitch started to fuck me.
His dick wasn’t much bigger, but it filled me nicely, like
Charley’s did, and his fucking was all right I suppose, for
how sore I was.  I treated him much like I had treated
Mitch, doing everything I could for him to make him as
satisfied as possible, including bucking up to meet his
thrusts and kissing him passionately.  Unlike Mitch he
pulled out just in time, splattering me with his sperm, and
lunging forward to thrust his sputtering cock into my mouth,
which he fucked and pumped into, milking himself on my lips
while I struggled to keep from gagging on the strong acrid
jizz.  I forced it down, gulping shot after shot of the
nasty stuff, while he rocked back and forth, finally coming
to a halt.
     He got up, pulled his shorts up while I panted heavily,
lying on my back with cum splattered all over me.  I heard a
footstep, then opening my eyes saw another boy undoing his
shorts, this one stripping completely naked.  I shot up, my
breasts colliding painfully in the center and swinging back
and forth. “Let me give you a blow job.” I offered, half
beggin’, but he shook his head, “I’ve never been with a girl
before.” He admitted blushing, “I just wanted.”
     I looked at him, sympathy for the boy welling up in me,
but how could he be so selfless for my needs.  I laid back
down, letting the chubby youth stroke me with his stubby
fingers.  He was pretty fat, and like Mitch had probably
never even dated.  I was probably the only chance he’d have
to have sex for years. “You sure are one hot chick.” He
said, and while I spread my legs open he mounted me, his
girth knocking my wind out and the sweaty flesh mashed into
me.  He spent a lot of time playing with me; sucking on my
breasts, fingering my pussy, just exploring my body, and I
gave it to him with everything I could.  I gave him more
than I had given to Mitch, serving him like a high-class
prostitute, making sure that everything was as wonderful as
possible for him.  Why I tried so hard for him and the boy
after him, and the one after that I don’t know, but for some
reason it was very important that I make sure they all had
the time of their lives, perhaps to add some meaning to my
total degradation.  I humiliated and debased myself so low
that the chance to raise my esteem in their eyes must have
been my only hope of redemption.  I let the fat boy cum
inside me, and the one after that.  When the older boy came
back for seconds I went down on him in spite of the acrid
taste.  In fact I begged him for the chance to I was getting
so sore.  After what might have been hours while the boys
guarded the doors (as I found out from one of them who had
trouble getting an erection) I was exhausted, drenched in
cum, saliva and my own juices.  I hadn’t had a single
orgasm, but the task of servicing all those boys had driven
the need from me, making me numb in my sheer exhaustion.
     My arms, mouth and legs were all sore, my pussy ached
ferociously.  Thick white creamy globules now ran freely, a
solid line from my labia to the floor, and puddling up
around my ass.  When the older boys came back for seconds
they wouldn’t touch my pussy thank god, so drenched in cum
it was.  I had to fellate them, however, turning my soft
lips into the service my labia were meant to perform, and
taking all their sperm, some salty, some bitter, but swallow
it all I had to and I did, until I was full of it.
     The jizz was all over my face, slicking back my hair,
covering my wide flanks and tummy, spreading down in a
viscous cloudy pool to my knees.  My dress had soaked so
much sperm that the goo now just pooled up between the
folds.
     Actually a bit of cum had dribbled out of me and
stained the front of the skirt, but damnit, that was how it
felt to have all those boys use me.  A teaspoon of semen
feels like a gallon when you’ve been forced to assimilate
twelve of them into your body multiple times through one
orifice or another in under an hour.  I had been splattered
in the face and the tummy so many times I had no idea how
many times I’d been used, and as I pulled myself up off the
ground I was genuinely astonished to see myself in the
mirror.
     I was a bit sweaty, my nipples were purple and swollen,
and my hair was a mess, but otherwise I looked absolutely
normal.  I couldn’t believe that being drenched in semen I
wasn't a lumpy white mess..  The normal wetness in my crotch
couldn’t possibly be the semen of ten or twelve men could
it?
     I was cold, sore, and weak, and I stepped into my suit,
the last of the boys sitting on the ground were I had just
made him cum into my mouth watching as I pulled the thin
scrap of cloth into the line between my butt cheeks.
Smiling whenever I looked at him, acting like we were in
love or something.
     I just smiled back, feeling guilty somehow for the
contempt I had for him.  Didn’t he know that I had been
terrorized all day?  Didn’t he know that when twelve men
confront a girl that there is no way to say “no.”
     Stuffing my breasts into the suit I washed my face
again, pushing my hair back and rinsing and spitting,
rinsing and spitting, but I couldn’t get the taste of cum
out of my mouth.  So much cum.
     I felt a hand touch my behind.  The boy was there.  In
the mirror I saw another couple of boys, probably checking
to see if they could get their seconds or thirds.
     “You were great.” He said.  “My names Dave.  What’s
yours.”
     As I stood, bending over a sink with a fourteen year
old with greasy skin fondling my ass he asked me my name.
As I rinsed my mouth out over and over to wash the taste of
him and his buddies cum from my mouth he rubbed and pinched
and squeezed.  As I fretted over the ramifications of having
had at least ten or fifteen different loads of sperm shot at
my cervix he was trying to be social.
     I stopped washing, grabbing his hand roughly and
pushing it away.  I spun around and  looked at one of the
other boys, a short chubby one that clung to a skateboard
like it was a teddy bear, “Give me your shirt.”  He paused
for a moment, then pulled it off.  I snatched it from him
and proceeded to dry my face off, then my neck and chest
while three boys who had just had their penis’ in me gazed
on, watching me strut around in a skimpy one piece bathing
suit that probably would have gotten me arrested in Brazil.
     “Sluts don’t have names.” I said to the boy who had
just fed me my last serving of jism.  “We’re just here for
your amusement.”
     He was dumbfounded, so were the other two boys.  I went
over to where my dress was.  It was partly dry from the days
heat, though the sweat stain from my body and the cum stain
were pretty noticeable.  I ran the spot under the faucet.
     “Hey, I wasn’t trying to…” the boy finally replied,
“Uh, insult you.  I was just wonderin’ if you wanted to go
over to the park with us.”  I snapped a glare at him, and he
added, “After you get dressed, I mean.  I mean there’s some
goth girls that hang out.”
     How the fuck he knew I was a goth I’ll never guess.  My
velvet dress could have been on the back of any street
hooker, and he had only seen me bare-ass naked and in this
disgusting one-piece with the pink stripe.
     “Look,” I explained wringing the skirt of my dress out,
“You don’t take a girl out who you and all your buddies have
fucked.  You don’t buy her dinner, you don’t take her to a
movie, you don’t introduce her to your other girlfriends.”
     “He doesn’t have any girlfriends.” The fat boy chimed
in, “You’re his first lay!” he laughed, and the other boy
with him laughed also.
     “And what are you!?” I snapped.
     His friend, another boy about fourteen with collar
length hair blurted out, “He didn’t get his turn.  Prancer
pushed him out of the way and went in.”
     I looked at the fat kid, “You didn’t get to have me?” I
grinned mercilessly at him.
     He looked at the ground and shook his head.
     “That’s pretty sad, isn’t it?” I looked around at the
boys, all of them were trying to find something else to look
at.  Inexplicably I started to feel bad for the kid, left
out when all his friends had had the time of their lives.
     “Shit.” I said, dropping my dress I kneeled on the
floor in front of the fat kid, “You ever been with a girl
before?”
     He shook his head nervously.  I yanked his shorts down
and grabbed his thing with my hand.  It was already rock
solid and god damnit if he didn’t have the biggest dick I’d
seen on any of the boys.  It wasn’t as wide as the black
mans, but it was a good two hand lengths long.
     “What’s your name kid?” I asked looking up at him,
running the long tube along my wide lower lip.
     “They call me… Peewee.  Cause I’m fat, y’know…” he was
gasping now.
     “They’re gonna have to start calling you Tiny,” I said,
licking the head of his cock making him shudder. “You’ve got
the biggest dick I’ve ever seen.” I lied.
     I looked to his friends to see their reaction, but I
couldn’t tell if they had heard because they just stared
wide-eyed.  I went on,
     “I’m glad you didn’t get to fuck me, this monster would
have spit me in two.” And I engulfed the rod with my mouth,
just as he started to cum.
     After a minute or two of milking him dry I realized
that he hadn’t tasted too bad.  Having swallowed so much cum
that day I was becoming an aficionado, and his jism had
tasted faintly sweet, with only a vague bleach smell.  I
told him so, planting a monster kiss on the little rat, his
hands reaching up to squeeze my breasts, his long dick
poking me in the tummy, still hard, still vibrating with his
pulsing orgasm.
     I still couldn’t believe the way I was acting, after
having let preadolescent children take me, after having
welcomed two middle aged men into my arms, after giving
myself to bums and all these kids my behavior still
astonished me.  Without even caring any more I pulled the
crotch of my suit aside, set my butt onto  the sink and
said, “Come on Tiny.”  He looked up astonished, so did the
other boys.  I continued, “You’re so short and fat no girl
is ever gonna let you touch her to find out about that long
thing of yours.  Why waste the opportunity?”
     Again I exposed myself for strange men to see, but they
had all had me hadn’t they?  They had all put their things
inside me.  It wasn’t as if I had anything to hide from
them.  I reached up and pulled the straps off my shoulder,
letting my breasts fall so Peewee would have the same chance
to play as the other boys.
     I hated long dicks.  They jabbed you hard in the
cervix, stretched you out, and generally made your life
miserable, but some masochistic twig had snapped in me and I
was begging for more punishment, something to ice the cake
on my martyrdom.
     Surprisingly enough it didn’t hurt at all, aside from
the soreness I already felt as the chubby ugly kid drove his
thing in me.  He hardly had to stoop to get it under me, and
I guess he didn’t know much about using his hips since he
just prodded me with it while I held him close in my arms
and kissed him passionately;  Stopping and chiding him every
time he bit my lip by accident, forcing him to kiss me like
a man, making him loosen his grip on my breasts and caress
them gently, showing him how a woman likes to have her
nipples stroked, how I did when they weren’t so sore.
     As he came inside me, filling me with yet another
teaspoon that felt like a deluge I realized that I had
probably just made his life.  I had given him something that
he would never forget and for some reason I found myself
deriving satisfaction from that.  Gasping and panting he
leaned heavily on me as his thing shriveled up inside me,
and I laughed out loud.  Me, the high school nerd, the
reject who people laughed at and called slut even though I
was a virgin until 19, was now running around serving
adolescent geeks unfulfilled dreams and making them feel
like real men.
     Of course a real man has to learn how to earn a woman’s
love and trust, and know how to keep her around, but that
wasn’t my problem.  These weren’t men yet.  They were boys.
     I pushed the kid off of me and picked up my dress,
plying the crotch of the suit to cover my smooth shaven
labia and hauling the suit up to stabilize my flopping
breasts.  I pulled the damp dress over my head, getting it
on with some struggle and then opened up my purse, putting
on make-up while the boys made themselves comfortable,
waiting on me like handmaidens.
     
     When I stepped out of the bathroom with the three kids
in tow I was good to go.  Except for my wet hair and bare
legs and feet you wouldn’t have known that I had been raped,
fucked, and cum on more than a dozen times that day.  I was
everything a gothic girl should be, pale face, dark eyes,
blood red lipstick smeared thick over my ample lips, I had
even pulled a strand of hair down to fall over one eye.
There were about three guys still hanging out, the older
ones, and they stood up as if at attention when I arrived.
One of them, the oldest guy who had had me first and then
two more times after that stepped up to me.
     I stopped him, “Unless you plan on bullying me back
into that bathroom to do you all again I suggest you get the
fuck out of my way!” I growled.
     He was taken aback, and his face went pale, “But I…
But you wanted…  I just wanted to know your name.”
     I stepped around him and started back towards the
beach, “Tell him Dave.”
     Walking away I heard, “She’s a slut.  Sluts don’t have
names.”
     The sun was still high, but I had been at this parking
lot for a long time.  I started thinking up an excuse as my
legs grew wobbly and my heart started to thump harder and
harder.  I just hoped that I wouldn’t cry and make a mess of
my make-up
     
     I sat on the beach, soaking wet, but wrapped tightly in
the body glove like it was armor.  It clung to my body like
a thick skin, but it’s density and tight fit pressed into my
body, making me feel more like I was heavily shielded than
exposing my curves to the world.  It was black with blue
swatches sewn in at dramatic angles, and zipped tightly up
the back.
     I had been a failure at boogie boarding.  Nothing I
could do would keep me on top of a wave for more than a
couple seconds, then the wave would pass me by and I would
be left to kick back out to where I had started and try
again.  I had finally given up, coming to the shore to hang
out with Evan and Arnold while Mickey persevered.  I didn’t
mind, since my mind wasn’t really into the whole idea of
having fun on the beach so much as recuperating in a nice
hot bath.  Maybe a little hot tea and professional therapy.
     But I was so scared of the consequences and
humiliation, even of having what little Evan knew of my
trials that day, that I went along with the guys, trying to
be a sport.  Evan seemed to be very nervous and
uncomfortable, but I guess he was as scared as I was that
Mickey would suspect something was up.  He did a good job of
keeping his distance.  I was, however, more aware than ever
of Arnold’s leering glares.
     He was still only eighteen but he and Mickey were fast
friends from high school, which Arnold still hadn’t
graduated from.  He was average height, average build,
average everything I guess.  He refused to take off his T-
shirt or to get in the water, I knew from Mickey it was
because he had back pimples, and he insisted on trying to
grow a mustache, though I couldn’t imagine why since he had
only sparse growth that made him look dirty, and even a
little greasy.  He wasn’t goth, like me and Mickey, but wore
jeans and T-shirts like most guys, only his were always
heavy metal bands.  His hair was about shoulder length, and
usually looked unwashed and uncombed.
     In short, I thought he was a total nerd.  Not that I’m
one to make judgments like that being a freak, but after two
years freedom of the domination of high school I had become
very picky about who I did and didn’t hang out with.  Guys
who leered at me like junior high school students or
construction workers didn’t fall into my usual company, but
I loved Mickey, and usually could tolerate such treatment.
     Of course, today was a different story.  Mickey and I
had just come out of the water.  He was ready to go back for
more, but I was done.  Evan had clamored up wanting to try,
but with the freezing Pacific ocean there was no way he
could go unless he had a body suit.  Mickey only had brought
two.  I had tried to let them let me go up the beach and to
the car to retrieve my dress, but Evan let it slip that I
had a bathing suit under the body glove, and I was stuck.  I
had tried to tell them that it was indecent but they all
laughed that off, chalking it up to my usual inhibition
about showing skin.  Then Mickey had run off, saying he was
going to try some better waves he had heard about down the
beach.
     Left alone with Evan who already knew me intimately,
and Arnold who lusted after me, I reluctantly reached back,
and grabbing the zipper I undid the suit and started to pull
it off of me, but in its wetness it was terribly difficult.
I looked over at Evan, who waited smiling maliciously.  He
had prodded me in front of Mickey encouraging everyone to
believe that I was just being overly modest, and I was.  I
knew that.  But they didn’t know the full extent as to why I
was so scared to pull down the suit.  They didn’t have any
desire to respect my body.  Mickey was only interested in
having fun, Evan wanted to make me cringe, and Arnold wanted
to see me exposed, as Evan had finally.
     At least I was in a very public place.  I may have felt
indecent, but a lot of people dressed like I would be, and
certainly no one would try to rape me.
     Besides, I figured I would just get out of the suit and
run up to the car parked on the cliff behind us where the
road ran.  Looking up and down the beach there were a couple
dozen people.  A lot of guys and a few girls, either
sunbathing, playing Frisbee, or playing in the waves.  Most
of them were in swimsuits despite the cool breeze.  Sitting
in the sun did a lot to push off any chill that might come
up.
     I guess Evan lost patience with my procrastination
because he walked up and started helping me undress.  He
started by pulling on the collar.
     “C’mon I want to catch up with Mickey.” And with
another of his diabolical grins he roughly tugged at the
suit, pulling it down over my breasts, which sprang free
from the confines like flowers from a magician’s sleeve.  I
saw Arnold sit up, craning his neck to see more.  I snapped
a glare at him, but he only smiled back at me while I let
Evan strip me completely, taking no compunction not to touch
me or squeeze me wherever the need arose.  At one point he
dug his hands into the suit, one hand firmly over each
cheek.  Looking again at Arnold I saw him raising an eyebrow
to the tolerance with which I let Evan touch me.  When Evan
used his leverage to pull the suit down over my hips Arnold
raised both eyebrows, his mouth parting slightly as Evan
revealed to him the whole of my exposed ample buttocks,
firm, pale white, with an adolescent hand planted firmly on
each half.  Only the thin black strip of cloth that bunched
up in a wad on its way up my spine prevented me from
revealing to the world what I had already revealed to, and
shared with, so many.
     Lifting up my feet so Evan could pull the suit off
completely I saw Arnold’s eyes riveted to my crotch area,
barely covered by the thin swatch of fabric.
     Pulling the suit free Evan stood up, his free hand
dangling between my thighs.
     “Don’t go anywhere now.”
     I scowled at him, but his fingers ran up my thigh and
cupped my crotch.
     “How about a kiss?” he sneered.
     I tried to dart my eyes at Arnold who stared wide-eyed,
trying to comprehend what was going on, but his eyes were
more interested in my butt than Evan’s behavior.
     I kissed him, my luscious lips pressing on his skinny
mouth and he squeezed my sex, tight, pulling on the fabric,
which strained against my crotch.  Suddenly he let go,
picked up the boogie board under his arm and ran off after
Mickey.  He was so young.  A grown woman reduced to serving
his every pleasure and he was more interested in boogie
boarding.  I heard a whistle, and then someone call out.
Looking around me I realized that I had caught the attention
of a few guys who had been boogie boarding as well, but were
now resting on the beach in their tight body suits.  They
watched, smiling at me while I stood there feeling exposed
and unprotected again.  I moved over to Arnold and sat down
next to him, hoping that his presence would keep any men
from wandering over.
     Not that his presence was welcome, just his affiliation
with my brother felt safer than standing alone in that
skimpy suit would have.
     Arnold scooted over a bit, positioning himself so he
would be facing me slightly.  “You look nice.” He said, but
I already knew what he thought.  He hadn’t even looked up
from my juggling boobs only half covered to tell me.  He
went on, “You should dress down more often.”
     I glared at him, frowning.
     “I didn’t mean it like that.” He said, laughing out
loud. “I just meant that you’re always so embarrassed to
show any skin.”  His eyes were peering under my bent knees
pulled tightly together to look at the crotch of the suit
half buried in the sand which spread around my cheeks with a
warm scratchy embrace.  He looked up smiling, “I mean other
girls do it.”
     I snapped back, “Why is it okay?  Why should I have to
show my body to any man who wants to look just because other
girls do it?”
     He used the opportunity to look me over.  I could see
him shift his position, trying to hide his growing erection.
Jesus Christ, even without touching me I was again being
used as a sex object.  He leaned forward, and reaching a
finger out in a pointing gesture leveled it at one of my
breasts.
     “You’ve got a tear.” He said.  I looked down, just in
time to see the suit ripping where my breasts pushed out the
most.  Right where, to my horror, my erect nipple was
sticking out, its quarter-inch protruding.  His finger
didn’t stop though.  Maybe he thought that Evans groping
meant that I was a lot more liberal about physical contact
than I had led him to believe, or maybe he was so taken
aback by my partial nudity that he lost sense of our
boundaries.  Either way his finger stuck in and hooked the
torn portion.  I could feel the threads ripping further as
his knuckle ground into my nipple, swollen from the cold
water.
     I sat there, my legs spread around him as I had shifted
position to look at myself while his single warm finger sent
tingling waves of heat into my cold nipple, knots into my
tummy, and a familiar buzzing glow into my groin.
     “Don’t!” I barked at him.
     He looked up at my face, pale and nervous.  He yanked
his finger out, another rapid fire thumping as thread ripped
further and snatched his hand away.  We both stared at each
other in shock at what he had done.  I was infuriated at the
sensation he had caused me, inadvertently triggering my
learned instincts to become aroused and paralyzed when
embarrassed.  I was also concerned that he had noticed how
long it had taken me to make him move his finger.  What if
it occurred to him to stick it somewhere else?
     “I-I'm sorry…” he began to say, then burst out
laughing.  I looked at myself again, and his finger had
caused the tear to be much larger.  The whole of my aureoles
was revealed now, and I do not have small nipples.  The
tightness of the suit caused it to jut out, almost
comically.  If Arnold had ever wondered what my nipples were
like, and I was sure he had, he now knew.
     I covered it with one hand, “Give me your shirt!” I
snapped.
     But he shook his head. “In this sun I’d get heatstroke
and fry in five minutes.”
     I grimaced at the lie and the laughing man in front of
me, his gaze wandering freely over my body again, “I just
need it to get to the car.”  Arnold was staring at my crotch
again.  I knew that it showed a lot, but the seam that ran
right down the middle to accommodate the pink swatch was
also straining.  I could see my pale white skin through the
threads.  I became terrified that I would burst right out of
the suit at any moment.
     But I also knew that was ludicrous.  The suit would
have torn up inside the body glove.  I had only to get to
the car so I could cover myself up and end this nightmare
once and for all.
     Arnold placed his hand on my thigh, again exhibiting
the boldness that must have come from watching Evan undress
me.  I started to grab his hand, but when he pulled my leg
so it was further spread from the other one I froze, my hand
holding his, and looked at what he was seeing.
     The joining of the crotch, a short seam only a couple
inches long had split entirely.  It was only held in place
by two thick threads that had made up the almost invisible
hem of the suits legs.  Arnold shifted his hand further up
my thigh and leaned in for a closer look at my bald, smooth
labia spreading under the pressure of my position and the
tight suit.  The pink meat of my inner lips was sticking
out.  I was, of course, glistening with moisture.  Most of
it was from the sea, but neither Arnold nor I could avoid
the unmistakable scent of a woman.  His hand was only a few
inches from my exposed sex.  He was using my predicament to
cop a few cheap feels, not to mention to have license to
gawk with impunity.
     It was only his lack of overtness that kept me from
exploding in his face.  Overall he remained no more obvious
than a casual boyfriend might be with his girlfriend.  Most
people were too far away to notice what were actually small
tears in my suit and I realized that if I made a scene I
would not only be half naked, but I would reveal the other
half in the act.
     Catching another strong whiff of myself I hoped that
Arnold would assume that my scent was only the normal odor
of a woman, rather than the lubricating emissions of a
woman’s overused vagina.
     “Arnold,” I murmured quietly at him, leaning over to
speak into his ear, “Please move your hand.”
     But his finger was on the prowl again, this time over
the edge of the suit where it ran down my tummy into my
exposed sex.  “I’m just checking for more tears.” He said,
as if he was doing me a favor as he ran his fingers under
the fabric, just a few inches above my exposed lips.  I
wanted to sit down on them, to hide them from his studious
gaze, but the thought of grinding my sex into the sand
sounded horribly painful.
     “Arnold this isn’t helping.” I said.  His finger ran up
and down sending shivers through me, each touch pinching a
nervous knot in my stomach, which I sucked in with all my
might to lessen the intensity.  This served only to pull my
hips up higher, and I watched, gasping and panting as he
went lower and lower.
     “Arnold please, this isn’t the place for this?”  He
looked up suddenly, watching me pant.  He looked at my
flushed chest, my erect nipples sticking up, even the one
that wasn’t exposed was plainly visible.  He looked down
again at my glistening labia, my hips swishing around in the
sand as he moved his finger.
     I looked at the pole in his shorts and knew what he was
thinking.  He was thinking that he had somehow magically
gotten me so turned on that I was heaving and panting from
pleasure, not the terror of being exposed in front of dozens
of people.  Certainly not the discomfort of having my
fiancé’s best friend taking advantage of me while I was
scared and wouldn’t be able to scream, or smack him.
     He was still groping me with his fingers as he scooted
around and put his arm around me, his hand falling to rest
on my utterly bare hipbone.  “It’s okay,” he said “When Evan
gets back we’ll get you into the suit quickly.  Until then,
if anyone comes by, I’ll cover you up.”
     I didn’t know whether he thought he was being
comforting or if he was now thinking that I would enjoy the
chance for a little fooling around.  Maybe he thought in his
ignorant male way that he was getting me off, and thus
keeping my mind off my situation.
     As if to illustrate, one of the boys who had whistled
at me was walking in our direction.  Arnold grabbed my
breast with his free hand, and to my shock and sheer terror,
plunged the other between my legs.  His warm hand a de facto
patch for my exposed lips.  I felt his dry touch sliding
against my ever more moist lips as the boy walked past.  He
watched with some amazement at me as I sat there submitting
to Arnold’s crude groping.  I realized I was staring, and
turned away to find Arnold’s face right next to mine, his
wiry whiskers tickling my lips and nose.
     “Is this really necessary?” I demanded.
     “Well did you want him to see you?” he replied, his
fingers now squeezing at my nipples, his other hand stroking
me very softly.
     “You’ve been waiting for a chance like this for a long
time haven’t you?”
     He looked at me as if he had been caught with his hand
in the cookie jar, then regaining his composure resumed his
stroking, “Well how else would you explain to them why my
hand is where it is?”  I could feel one finger probing
further than I thought he would have dared, even at this
point.
     My mouth fell open, but I realized again that he was
just making it up as he went along.
     Another person, this one an older man with his wife and
daughter were heading straight towards us.  It would only be
a few seconds, so rather than try to sort it out with Arnold
I found myself kissing him, hoping he had seen the couple as
well.
     My only hope was that they would not notice the state I
was in, or Arnold’s odd hand placement and that they would
find a place far away from us young “lovers.”
     I wrapped my closer arm over his waist, leaning into
him as he continued to squeeze and now poke at me, his uncut
nails stabbing painfully into my tender skin.  He kissed me
back with growing passion, his hand tucking itself under my
suit to explore my breast further, I could hear the tearing.
I opened my eyes, hoping that the couple was gone, but they
were only a few yards closer to us.  The stabbing in my
crotch was getting painful as Arnold moved his hungry
fingers around, but I could find no means to stop him just
yet.
     “A little higher,” I whispered as we kissed.  Arnold
didn’t need directions, he had just needed permission, and
he wasted no time plunging one, then two, then three of his
fingers into me, making me gasp.  Struggling hard not to cry
out I kissed Arnold with growing ferocity, biting his lips,
my hand strayed to his cock and I grabbed it trying to hurt
him, squeezing it with all my force but he only moaned, and
responded by pushing harder and harder into my dripping
hole.  The pain was intense, it was growing worse than the
scratching had been.  I pulled my mouth away and looked up,
shoving his hand out of me with a great sigh of relief.
Looking around I saw the family moving away down the beach,
the man looking over his shoulder at me with distaste.
Looking around us I saw a lot of people with similar
expressions.  What had meant to be an act of concealment had
made exhibitionists out of both of us.
     Of course he was still dressed, and I was wearing
tattered rags.  He probably didn’t mind the mishap a bit.
It was that whole slut-stud double standard by which men who
sleep around are lauded and praised, but women who do are
defiled and vilified.
     The tear over my nipple ran down the length of my suit,
ending right above Arnold’s hand which hovered “protectively
close to my exposed sex, now wholly so as Arnold’s eager
probing had ripped the last two shreds of dignity I had
left.  His other hand still cradled my breast, though it
seemed to have lost all pretense of coverage.
     I squeezed Arnold’s penis, its long and thick shaft
surprising me with its bulk, “Arnold do you like what I’m
doing to you?”
     He said ‘yeah,’ and leaned back into me, trying to kiss
me again, his hand going back to caress my womanhood.  I put
my free hand up in front of his mouth, letting his stoke and
grope me.  The shape of his penis made me wonder momentarily
what he tasted like.
     I moved my hand down a little until I had a testicle.
Arnold gasped.
     “Arnold.” I said.
     “Yes.” He groaned.
     “If you don’t give me your shirt I’m taking this
instead.
     
     He followed me up the hill, apologizing profusely,
saying it was all a misunderstanding, that he hadn’t seen
any family of three, and begging me not to tell Mickey.  He
was right behind me the whole way, a few steps lower on the
rocky trail up to the car park.  I knew he had a ripe view
of my loins the whole way up in spite of the low hanging T-
shirt, but I didn’t care much.
     It really didn’t matter.
     I remember thinking at that point that it would be
better to just get it over with and to show the whole world.
Looking down the hill to the people frolicking on the beach
I wondered about Mickey, and if I would ever willingly let a
man have sex with me again.  I knew right then that my
situation with Evan was moot.  I would have to leave Mickey.
     I stared out at the ocean for a long time trying to
discern his body from the innumerable bodies in the water,
but shortly gave up.
     Reaching the car I extracted the key Mickey keeps
hidden under a fender and opened the back door.  Inside the
car was a bag with, wonder of wonders, a fresh change of
clothes.  I turned to Arnold, scanning the area as I did it.
There were some sightseers, light traffic, and a lot of
people below us on the beach.
     I tore off the T-shirt, throwing it at Arnold.  He
frantically pulled it on, his reddening chest proving that
his assertion earlier had been no lie.  He was extremely
sensitive to the sun.  I had one breast hanging out, the
torn crotch meant that the suit hardly came down to my
navel, and with one brutal yank I tore at the suit, peeling
it away from my body as Arnold stared in wonder and
amazement.  The sleeves were holding out against my best
efforts, and still looking at Arnold I said, “What are you
doing just standing there?”
     He snapped from his reverie, grabbed a shoulder strap
and yanked hard, pulling on me but succeeding in ripping the
last shreds of the suit from my body.
     Totally naked in public once again I climbed into the
car.  I laid out on my back and lifted up one leg exposing
some space on the seat.
     Looking back up at Arnold who stood still holding the
remains of my swimsuit dumbfounded I repeated myself, “What
are you waiting for.”
     Arnold took a moment, looked around us, but deciding it
was worth the risk pushed his baggy shorts down enough to
expose his penis and climbed inside the car.
     He lasted only minutes, but his eager thrusting filled
me up utterly, spreading me wide, forcing me to arch and
buck to accommodate his girth and length.  Pumping his semen
inside me he cried out my name, telling me how much he’d
always wanted me, telling me that to him I was the only
woman in the world.  That I was the only woman he’d ever
loved.
     Some tiny, very small part of me was glad that I’d
gotten to give this to him since I told myself then that it
would be the last time a man ever had sex with me.
     I gave him a few minutes then made him get off of me
and stand watch as I got dressed, this time thankfully in a
pair of slacks.
     Mickey and Evan took a long time in returning, but I
refused to leave the car.  Arnold didn’t mind waiting, and
my curiosity getting the better of me, I discovered that he
too had a slightly sweet flavor, with almost no trace of the
smell of bleach.
     He didn’t try making any more passes at me, and oddly
enough I realized that he wasn’t staring at my breasts when
he looked at me, but deeply into my eyes.
     Poor sap.
     
     In the months that followed he came over to my
apartment a lot.  He had stopped spending time with Mickey
after I broke it off with him, and started dressing in
black, presumably to impress me. I would usually take the
time to give him a blow job, sometimes I’d even let him
undress me and run his hands over me, fingering me to an
orgasm as I bucked and gasped.
     But I never let him sleep with me.
     He sported the money for my abortion, thinking that it
was his fault.  Who knows, it might have been his, but I
appreciated the gesture all the same.  We never got too
close.  He wanted to be closer, but I would always stop him
when the conversation strayed into territory I was
uncomfortable with.  Usually by going down on him or
stripping myself.  Sometimes when he persisted I would
finger myself until he took over, letting him make the world
go away in the wake of a violent orgasm or a mouthful of
jizz.
     When things got too rough, and Arnold wasn’t around I
would drive over to Mickey’s parent’s house, knock on Evan’s
window, and get my escape from him.  I taught him everything
about loving a woman, giving him a lot of what I wouldn’t
give to Arnold.  But Evan had a world of his own, and though
he always wanted my body, and he always took it -sometimes
making me call in sick for him at school, or play his big
sister to get him out of classes- but he rebuffed me just as
often, never wanting to spend time after he had cum.
     I even gave him my sex, letting him use me as he wanted
to, putting his semen inside me.  But as before he would
lose interest when he came.  He lost interest in making me
cum and sometimes would rebuff me completely.  There were
times, when his parents were asleep and we had just made
love in his bedroom at home, he would throw me out naked,
leaving me to get dressed in the cold night.  Once I had
left my dress inside, and had to drive home naked.  Getting
home to find a late night party going on.  Climbing in
through my bedroom window to find a couple having sex in my
bed.  One day I went to Evan’s school wearing only shoes and
a dress.  A button down number that went to mid thigh,
showing a lot of chest and shoulder.  I went pretending that
I had to bring Evan some books that he had forgotten and
called for, but arrived at lunch when no one noticed.  Well,
a lot of students noticed, and I was whistled at a lot.  I
was even goosed a couple times, but I knew I couldn’t
respond, otherwise I’d make a scene.
     I found Evan where he had told me to meet him, on a
flight of wooden stairs that led down to a creek behind the
school.  He had a bunch of buddies with him, all boys, all
his age.
     For Evan’s attention, for his pleasure I let him
command me to take the dress off in front of everyone, and
taking Evan inside me first, I let every one of the boys
have me, giving them what I had given those skaters in Santa
Cruz:  The time of their lives.
     They were all geeky young boys, like Evan, and like
Evan I was probably the only chance they had ever had to be
with a woman.  And thusly I wrapped my arms around them,
kissed them deeply, and told them how wonderful they were,
just like I had in Santa Cruz.
     Only this was my hometown.  I got to see them again,
when Evan would have me come over and I found myself doing
three, maybe four kids a night.  Sometimes they would see me
around town, and I would let them have me in a bathroom or
the back of my car.
     And then they introduced me to their friends…
     
     No…
     I never went to Evan’s school.  That was just the story
I told the counselor at the hospital after I’d tried to kill
myself.  Evan tried to force himself on me one night and
that was the last I had ever seen of him.  I wouldn’t give
into him, but he refused to see me after that, unless I’d
put out.  I missed him so much that I ate a bunch of pills
rather than have to deal with the pain or having to let a
man use me again.
     I tried to kill myself over a thirteen-year-old boy.
Pathetic hardly begins to describe it.
     Six months after that painful day I finally got some
help.  Arnold was really supportive, though I still won’t
sleep with him.  He’s grown up into quite a striking young
man and gotten wholeheartedly into the gothic scene.  Though
I still can’t call him my boyfriend we’ve been around each
other all this time, and he’s the only man I will let near
me.  When I told him the whole story he almost had a
breakdown, knowing that he had been a part of the worst day
of my life.  But he came back after a few weeks, and though
we are still lovers (though we never have sex) he and I are
more like brother and sister.
     I never saw Mickey again.