BH-7173  A Revealing Sex Report On Anal Sisters
(Ward Fulton)


INTRODUCTION ... "He ... just reached out and grabbed my top and yanked. It 
came away and I was naked to the waist, with my breasts bare and shaking, 
because I was crying and trying not to. 

"Bruce reached over and squeezed one breast so hard I yelped. It hurt. And 
he laughed. Then two boys grabbed my arms and pulled me back on the cot 
while two more ripped my little bitty pants off. I tried to kick them, but 
they just laughed and twisted my legs until I almost screamed. 

"Bruce sort of gave orders to the others and they held me, spraddle-legged 
on the cot, while Bruce pulled his pants down. I could see his pecker, 
hanging down but getting stiff and rising, until it was almost straight up, 
and purplish red and shiny. And dripping juices. I could see all this and 
couldn't quite believe it. Things like this didn't happen. Not in our crowd. 
Not to girls like me. 

"I'd never seen a boy's-well, Bruce was almost grown, so, say, man's-pecker 
full-size and stiff, and coming right at my little cunt. 

"The boys that were holding my arms each grabbed one tit and started 
squeezing, and the ones holding my legs started rubbing along the inside of 
my thighs. In spite of trying not to scream and being so scared, I knew my 
little cunt was getting wet and opening up. 

"Bruce walked in, between my legs, aiming his big prick right at my cunt and 
laughing. 'See, she likes it. Look at her box, opening up. Yeah, man, she's 
really gonna like this.' 

"And he rammed his prick right at my cunt. I screamed and squirmed and tried 
to move aside but the boys holding my legs were strong. And one of the 
others slapped my face so hard I saw stars. And felt the pain of Bruce 
sticking his big prick into me. Hard. And pushing. So the pain shot all the 
way up me. 

"I could see his prick, buried in my hole, and feel it, like a big baseball 
bat sliding up inside me. Then he was working back and forth, rubbing that 
big prick up inside me. It hurt something awful and at the same time was 
awfully exciting. And Bruce was sweating and laughing like crazy and pumping 
back and forth until I could feel his prick swell even bigger and start to 
pulse. Suddenly he rammed it against my cunt so hard I could feel his balls 
banging my behind. And held it, squirting his juices way up me, in great hot 
spurts. 

"He stood there, twisting and grunting and wriggling, driving his prick as 
deep as it would go, and moaning. Then he seemed to deflate and sag. His 
prick went down, too, and started sliding out. 

"I figured it was all over and they'd let me go. Only they didn't. Each of 
the other boys stuck his prick in me. Or I think so. I think all of them 
did. I don't really remember after the first two or three. The pain was so 
great I fainted. Only I'd sort of half wake up and there'd be another boy 
banging his prick into me. Even the two Bruce had left on guard. 

"And then Bruce again. 

"It was while Bruce was banging me that I heard the scream. I'd been 
screaming so much I thought it was me I was hearing. But it wasn't, this 
time. It was one of the boys. 

"My older brother had come. He's a marine. And he had a couple or three" 
marine buddies with him. 

"Bruce was still screwing me when my brother came charging in. Jim just 
swooped over on Bruce, raised both hands above his head and came down with a 
judo chop. I understand he broke both collarbones. Bruce screamed and tried 
to turn. Jim caught him one right under the chin and snapped his head back. 

"I guess I fainted about then. I don't remember much of the fight. Not that 
it was so much of a fight. Jim and his buddies just mopped up the place. 
Those motorcycle boys were tough, but a commando-trained marine is a lot 
tougher. I heard that Bruce was so badly beaten he screamed for mercy-and 
then ran outside and tried to get away on his motorcycle. Only, with his 
face beat to a pulp and his arms not working, on account of the broken 
collarbones, he couldn't handle the bike. So he went right off the mountain 
and was killed. 

"Jim and his buddies were taking the others apart-so I heard-when the police 
came. Hal had called my brother and then the police, and since one of the 
boys-Benny, I think, knew where the gang's headquarters was and told Jim, 
Jim got there ahead of the cops. And the ambulance. 

"I don't remember the ambulance or the ride to the hospital or anything for 
maybe a week or so. And I'd wake up screaming. Not from pain. I think they 
gave me things for the pain, but not for forgetting the awful things that 
had happened to me. 

"Then, months later, there was the trial. First the state tried Jim and his 
buddies for manslaughter. And I had to go all through that awful night 
again, describing it for the court, so that Jim could go free. Oh, he went 
freeand I think the judge would have given him a medal if it had been 
allowed. 

"Then I had to go all through it a second time at the trial of the 
motorcycle gang. Except they had all got haircuts and shaved off their 
sideburns, trying to look respectable and cleancut. It didn't work. And they 
all went to the penitentiary for different periods. I didn't understand 
that, because each of them had screwed me. Only they all tried to lay it on 
Bruce, who was dead. Especially the kidnaping part. 

"I went away after that, to a girls' school. My family wanted me to forget. 
Only, I couldn't forget. And I didn't forget in college, when I went there. 
The nightmares were just as bad, only I'd learned not to scream. 

"I couldn't go out with boys. I just couldn't bear the idea of one of 'em 
touching me. And yet there were times when I wanted sex. I mean, wanted it 
so bad it actually hurt me, inside. I could feel all the want and hunger but 
the very idea of anything like that happening to me made me feel ill, 
churning me up, inside. 

"I hadn't seen Jim since the trials, mostly because he'd gone back to the 
service, while I was off at that girls' school and college. It wasn't that 
we avoided each other or that my family didn't want me to see Jim because it 
might remind me of that awful night. It just happened we didn't connect. 

"Then Jim was out of the service and staying in a town near the college, so 
I went over one weekend to see him. I was shocked. Jim looked haggard. Like 
worn and thin. He was lying on the bed in his room, just staring at the 
ceiling. He barely greeted me. 

"I asked him what was wrong. He told me. 

"'I'm a murderer, kid. I killed that man just as sure as if I'd wrung his 
neck. Saying it was justified doesn't make it any less murder. It just means 
that if something got me angry enough-like what happened to you-I could kill 
again. Not that I'm trying to excuse it, or put anything off on you, kid.' 

"It seems Jim wouldn't go out with girls. He honestly couldn't bring himself 
to go out with 'em or think about screwing them. Or even getting married, 
because that meant screwing. And that meant remembering why he'd killed a 
man. Yet he was hungry for a girl. He really needed one. I mean he needed 
one to sleep with, so he could release some tensions and maybe learn to be 
whole again. 

"We talked about it until late that night. 

About him needing a girl and me being hungry for sex and yet scared to 
screw. 

"We really needed each other. But how? And then it occurred to me. I 
couldn't think of a guy going in my little cunt again-but there was another 
hole. My asshole. 

"It could help us both to readjust. Jim wouldn't hear of it, when I first 
suggested it. In fact, he was sort of horrified. Boys are lots bigger prudes 
than girls in some ways. It could be the answer to both our problems. So why 
not? 

"It took some persuasion. I even did a sort of striptease to break him down. 
And I did, finally. I was there, stark-naked, shaking a little, because I 
wasn't altogether sure I could take it, without going crackers. And Jim was 
looking at me, hungry like, and groaning. 

"I had to help him off with his trousers and pull down his underpants. But 
he was getting a hard on by then. His prick looked enormous-like a baseball 
bat with a big purple-reddish knob. I was sure, now that I'd started this, 
that I'd never get that big prick in my little asshole. 

"Jim had some vaseline and I worked that around my asshole and then threw 
myself on the bed, facedown, waiting. 

"Jim was very gentle. He caressed my back and then slid his hands around to 
tease my breasts and fondle my nipples, so I was getting more interested in 
sex and less scared of what was going to happen. 

"My little cunt was filling up with juices and starting to quiver when I 
felt Jim slide his prick between my legs, under my asshole and rubbing 
against my cunt. It was so different from the way it had happened the first 
time that I could really relax and let the waves of heat and flashes of sex 
shoot through me, relaxing my legs until they just fell apart. 

"Jim slid his prick right up to my asshole and sort of hung there, poised, 
waiting, I guess, for me to give some sort of signal I was ready. So I 
humped up and felt the head of his prick slide in, and felt my little 
asshole grab hungrily at it. 

"Then Jim eased his prick on in, being very careful to wait and see if he 
was hurting me. He wasn't. It suddenly felt glorious. All that big prick 
sliding up my asshole, starting all sorts of excitement inside me! 
Marvelous! And I wasn't a bit afraid. I mean, I didn't feel like screaming 
or anything, except maybe for sheer pleasure. 

"Then his prick slid all the way in, so deep I could feel his balls thumping 
between my legs, right up against my cunt. And my little twat was chewing at 
them. And we were asshole fucking, in a kind of ragged rhythm that soon 
settled down into a real smooth, red-hot get together, with all kinds of 
wonderful things happening way up inside me. Most of it because Jim's big 
ole prick was pulsing away far up my asshole. 

"I hadn't known asshole fucking could be so wonderful. I had just sort of 
meant it as a kind of exercise for me and Jim, to get rid of some of our 
inhibitions. Only it turned out wonderful. I hadn't even known there were 
places up my asshole that could feel so strongly and cause my juices to flow 
so freely. 

"And when Jim shot off, ramming his prick hard against me, I could feel my 
own juices let go. And all sorts of exciting things happened inside me. Even 
when his prick was deflating and sliding out of my asshole, I could feel 
excitement and deep, deep contentment. Yes, in one evening, I had got rid of 
a lot of inhibitions-just through asshole fucking. I loved it." 

The case of Alice who, at the age of about fifteen, was kidnaped and raped 
by a motorcycle gang, is an extreme instance of preconditioning through 
traumatic shock. True, as she admitted afterward, she had deliberately 
stirred up interest among the cycle gang members by "strutting" in her very 
brief drum majorette costume. And in quarreling with her escort over the 
incident, laid the foundation for her kidnaping, which started with her 
accepting "a ride home" from one of the motorcyclists, Bruce. 

The violence of the rape of Alice produced a profound trauma. Fortunately, 
this was not complicated by any guilt complex, or if so, only a very slight 
one on the basis of her initiating the action by "strutting." It is, 
however, a very clear-cut instance of extreme preconditioning toward 
heterosexual anal coitus. 

Normally, analisim in heterosexual relationships is practiced by many as a 
variation on the uterogenital position, to stimulate the male and female to 
more ardent response in the normal uterogenital position when it is resumed. 
It is also practiced in heterosexual relationships at the menstrual period, 
when the female's uterus is absorbed in other activities, should both 
partners feel the compulsion toward a sexual relationship. It is 
occasionally practiced permissively by the female, who may have only slight 
sexual gratification, when the male partner is insistent upon a sexual 
relationship at a time when the female is menstruating or is in her 
reproductive cycle and fears impregnation. 

In the male homosexual relationship analism is one of several means of 
obtaining sexual gratification and is the sexual act most generally 
understood as being the customary practice of homosexuals, though fellatio 
is also a common practice in the male homosexual relationship. 

In both male and female masturbation, the anus is frequently used for 
excitation to orgasm, either solely or as a supplement to other forms of 
masturbation. The insertion of a long, penis-like object in the anus (often 
a douche or enema nozzle, both being handy and inconspicuous-most 
masturbators are highly secretive) is known to create a sexual response, 
varying considerably with the individual. Even the application of an enema 
for relief of constipation is known to arouse sexual response, though rarely 
to the extent of an orgasm, except in persons anally oriented. 

It is this group we will consider here: particularly females who derive 
sexual gratification from the practice of analism with a male partner. More 
particularly, in this volume we will attempt, by studies of case histories, 
to comprehend the forces, psychological and biological, that are operative 
in heterosexual analism. 

The biological factor is of first consideration. Why, when a male penis is 
available, should a female prefer the anal approach to the more normal 
uterogenital? 

The anus is an erogenous zone; that is, it is one which, when stimulated, 
gives rise to an erotic or sexual response. Erogenous comes from the Greek 
eros, "desire," plus gen, "born" or "created." Thus, these are areas of the 
body that create desire. The word is of recent origin. It was "born" only 
about a hundred years ago, after Charcot's study of "areas of sympathy," 
hysterogenic zones, "hysterogenic action" having been defined still earlier 
by John Hunter as "the action of one part in consequence of an application 
being made to another part." The latter was applied to persons suffering 
from diseases commonly called nervous, hypochondriac or hysteric. The sexual 
side of these "sympathetic" areas was not considered by men of science as 
being worthy of the dignity of their profession until about a century ago, 
when Ernest Chambard, in examining hysterics at the Asylum of Sainte-Anne in 
Paris, noted that the excitation or stimulation of various areas of the body 
frequently produced orgasm. He was dealing with hysterics first. Chambard 
states: 

There exists in the normal state, and especially in women, on the surface of 
the skin a certain number of regions, comparable to the epileptogenic 
centers of M. BrownSequard, to which the name erogenic centers might be 
applied. 

He lists them: 

Among these centers some are constant; such are, independent of the 
dermo-mucous covering of the external genital organs, the mucous surface of 
the mouth of the womb, the inner side of the thigh, the inguino-crural and 
ilioinguinal regions, and especially the nipples. 

Other areas, he says, are less constant and may vary from subject to subject 
and, in the same subject, from time to time. The ilioinguinal region he 
mentions, is, in less scientific jargon, the anal area, especially the 
interior walls of the intestine leading to the anus. Other areas mentioned 
as offering varying degrees of erogenous responses are the palms of the 
hand, the throat just below the ear, and the inner side of the arm and the 
armpit. Freud (later) was more inclusive; he said the entire skin was an 
"erotogenous center." 

The German-Austrian school of psychiatry, with their Teutonic love of 
additional syllables, generally prefers the term "erotogenous" centers," the 
English school, typified in Havelock Ellis, seems to accept "erogenic 
zones," while the French, with typical Gallic frugality, calls them simply 
"erogenes." Later psychiatrists, especially the Americans, Woodard, et al, 
prefer the term "erogenous zones" (used here). 

Lovers have known of these erogenous zones centuries before any name was 
applied to them and their functions defined. Don Juan, the notorious 
seducer, mentions them in accounts of his amours; Benvenuto Cellini, 
sculptor, goldsmith, and lover extraordinary, notes the same phenomena; 
Shakespeare has several of his characters, in various plays, note this 
response. 

Chambard, and others who followed him, recognized the dermomucous covering 
of the external sex organs (in women, the vulva) as the primary area of 
stimulation to sexual response. The inner side of the thigh, the nipples, 
the anus with the nates (buttocks) and the mouth are generally recognized as 
the secondary zones. Tertiary zones were the inner side of the arm, the leg, 
the back of the neck, and the palm of the hand. In the 1920s, when I was 
growing up, it was popularly supposed that tickling the palm of a girl's 
hand would immediately cause her to fall into one's arms with interesting 
results (not proven by experience). 

Freud's suggestion that the entire skin is an erogenous zone/erotogenous 
center is now generally considered as invalid except when the woman is at 
least partially aroused or is preconditioned by her own erotic needs or by 
previous experiences. There can be no doubt, though, that the secondary 
erogenous zones function in all normal women, among these is the 
ilioinguinal area, the membranous canal-like structure that extends from the 
exterior anus up into the body" cavity and is generally shut off by main 
sphincter muscle. This sphincter muscle, as we shall see, can be activated 
consciously during anal coitus", by the woman to simulate the activity of 
the vulva and vaginal tract in uterogenital coitus. 

Why should a woman who is sexually aroused choose anal coitus over 
uterogenital? Fear of impregnation is one; another is preconditioning from a 
variety of causes, including fear induced by a previous rape or near-rape 
and emotional blocks against the use of the vulva and vaginal tract reaching 
back into childhood and induced by a wide variety of causes generally 
related to fear (excessive whipping when a child, which overstimulated the 
normal secondary characteristics of the ilioinguinal areas, traumas of a 
wide range of causes, and, very rarely, a biological inversion of the 
neurosexual relationship) . In men this is often used to explain their 
homosexual anal relationship but is rarely valid. The condition described is 
so extremely rare as to be virtually nonexistent. 

Heterosexual anal coitus is more generally explained by some form of 
preconditioning. In the case histories that follow it is possible to trace 
this preconditioning, some very slight, some no greater than a mother's 
admonition. With many it is fear of pregnancy. Few are so sharply defined as 
the trauma experienced by Alice because of the gang rape. 

Intrinsically, there is nothing wrong with anal coitus as a heterosexual 
practice when it is used by a couple only as a variant to their normal sex 
activities. It only becomes a danger to the emotional makeup of a person 
when it is the sole or principal outlet for sexual activity. Then anal 
coitus itself becomes an obsession and an emotional disturbance for which 
psychiatric care is generally recommended. 

But this amounts to saying very little about the subject matter of this 
study, in which the cases of anal intercourse that had been brought to the 
attention of psychiatrists and social workers were not so much of interest 
because of their anal nature, per se, but because they were of an incestuous 
anal nature. There is no doubt that the reasons presented above for a girl's 
or a woman's preference for coitus in ano, as the medical profession prefers 
to term anal intercourse, apply to the feminine psyche regardless of whether 
her love partner is a stranger, a husband, or a brother. What becomes of 
interest then is the question of why a girl will turn to her brother for 
sexual gratification to begin with, and then, why she will accept this 
sexual gratification anally rather than vaginally. 

One could say that whatever right a person does, he or she does because of a 
fear of doing a wrong; although, in most instances, this fear is not of the 
wrong itself but rather of the punishment, a natural consequence to 
wrongdoing.. One could also say, then, that whatever wrong a person does; he 
or she does because of a fear of doing a greater wrong, or of doing a more 
threatening-in some instances, imaginarily so, threatening-right. 

Applying this "explanation" to sexual acts to two morally distinct sexual 
relationships-the first, properly marital, the second, incestuous-we have 
the following balance of fears and results. Love has been intentionally left 
out of the analysis. 

Married couples engage in sexual intercourse with each other (doing the 
right), because they fear (unconsciously), or if they do not fear, then the 
potentiality of that fear is still present, that they will engage in sexual 
intercourse with someone other than their marital partner (doing the wrong). 
Naturally, if the couple do not have any psychopathological sexual 
difficulties, neither the man nor the woman fear the extramarital act of 
sexual intercourse, per se, rather they fear the loss of his or her loved 
one, position, reputation, or money (fear of punishment). 

In the case of illicit love, such as an incestuous affair between a brother 
and a sister, once the incestuous relationship has been firmly established 
(doing the wrong), the boy or the girl, or both of them, may decide (and 
this decision may be reached subconsciously) to do a lesser wrong (engage in 
anal intercourse, since it presents no danger of producing incestuous 
offspring) because they fear doing a greater wrong (namely, engage in 
vaginal intercourse). 

The paradox of anal intercourse being a lesser wrong and of vaginal 
intercourse being a greater wrong should be a sufficient indication of the 
difficulties of analyzing the sexual psychopathology of anal incest. This 
study does not claim to be a conclusive report on the tragic ecstasy of 
brother-sister relationships; neither does it intend to be a eulogy on the 
ecstatic tragedy of those affairs. Its only intent is to throw some light on 
the problems of modern society, and thus fit another piece into the jigsaw 
of human existence. 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Eloise ... Spoon-fashion Love 

"I had a pretty good upbringing, I guess you'd say. I mean, we had what 
every kid has and maybe more. It was a nice house where I was brought up. 
Father and mother were nice people, clean, neat and not too strict. We had 
to obey but they didn't yell and scream at us, as some parents I know of do. 

"Father had a car and mother had her own compact. And Fred, my older 
brother, was always working on some jalopy out in the garage. I remember it 
used to irritate Father because Fred was always using his tools and leaving 
them scattered around. Fred was a pretty good mechanic, I guess, but he 
wasn't neat. Even his room wasn't neat. He had all sorts of things he called 
souvenirs-'Stop' signs, 'One Way' signs, banners of colleges he never went 
to and wasn't likely to, and even a pair of girl's panties that he liked to 
pretend he'd got on a pantie raid only he'd never been on one because he was 
still in high school. They were supposed to be hung up but they never were, 
not for long. And tennis rackets and skis-one that he liked to tell he'd 
broken at some ski lodge, but actually Mother had run over it in the 
garage-and a couple of baseballs. His prize was a baseball actually 
autographed by Satchel Paige. 

"I mean, Fred was just any boy you'd see anywhere. Nice enough, I guess, but 
as a brother not very exciting. I mean, at the start I didn't have any 
feelings about him as a boy. He was just my brother Fred. 

"We had connecting rooms. We'd always had them, ever since I can remember, 
except I vaguely remember we once shared a room. That was way back when I 
was a little girl, maybe seven or so, or even younger, and Fred was maybe 
ten of eleven. 

"We had separate beds, even back then, but lots of times I'd crawl in with 
Fred and we'd sleep spoon-fashion. Know what that is? You sort of curl up 
together, my back to his front. 

It was always my back to his front and knees sort of together, mostly 
because I was smaller and we fitted better that way. 

"I don't recall ever feeling sexy, or Fred feeling me up, or my even being 
interested in the fact that he had a pecker. Except that I didn't like our 
difference. His seemed so sort bf convenient, especially on a picnic when he 
could just step behind a tree and let go and I had to find a bushy place 
where I could squat. It just didn't seem a very fair arrangement. 

"I don't think I thought much about sex, not in connection with me, until 
after I had my first period. All that blood scared me, but the feelings also 
got me interested, especially after it was all over. I felt prickly and my 
breasts would get to aching and my nipples would harden just from touching 
my bra. It wasn't much of a bra, because I really didn't have very big 
breasts. I don't even have big ones now. Oh, they're nice enough, round and 
firm, but just not very big. 

"I guess I was about fourteen, then. I matured sort of late, I think. At 
least a lot of girls in school had lots bigger breasts than I did and talked 
about boys long before I did. They wore Tampax, too, and bragged about it, 
making out they were grown up. 

"I don't think any of the girls in our crowd were actually sleeping with 
boys-screwing, I mean-but they liked to hint at things, making it mysterious 
and exciting. And some of the things they hinted were downright scarey. 
About diseases and getting 'caught' and how you had to be careful. 

"Fred had been off to camp most of the summer I turned fifteen and he got 
pretty well developed. Still, he was just my big brother who always smelled 
a little bit of gasoline and motor oil, from his jalopy. 

"It's hard now to remember just how I felt that late summer evening it all 
started. I mean, I don't remember thinking about sex or getting screwed or 
even that Fred was almost a man and had a pecker just like the ones the 
girls at school liked to whisper about. 

"I knew he had a pecker. All boys do, I know now. And it did seem a lot 
bigger-longer and a lot bigger around-than before. I saw him in the shower, 
cleaning up after working on his jalopy. He was kind of careless about 
locking the bathroom door or wearing a robe when he came out. Mostly, I 
guess, because that was the 'kids' bathroom' and I was just his kid sister. 

"Maybe seeing him naked did get me kind of stirred up, reminding me of all 
the things the girls at school had said about boys and their peckers. I 
honestly don't know, now. I only know that I got awfully lonesome that 
night-a sort of vague feeling, really, that nobody loved me. Maybe Mother 
had scolded me. I just don't know. Anyway, I knew I wanted to sleep 
spoon-fashion with Fred, like having him there was proof that somebody loved 
me. 

"Mother and Father had gone to town, to the theater, as I recall. They 
always stayed late, for dancing and maybe a few drinks after the theater. So 
there wasn't anybody to comfort me. That's really why I slipped into Fred's 
room. 

"He was already in bed, sprawled out all over the bed, as he usually was, 
legs flung out, arms spread. Not sleeping yet, just-relaxing. He called it 
letting his muscles rest. He seemed a little surprised to see me. 'Hi, 
towhead!' he said. That's because I'm blonde. Or was then. 'Can't sleep?' he 
asked. Then he flipped back the covers so I could crawl in, just like I used 
to when I was a little kid. 

"I think maybe just about then I got an inkling of what I was about to do. I 
mean, I figured it wasn't quite right but I didn't really know what about. 
Just a sort of guilty feeling, knotting up in my stomach. 

"So I jumped in quick and snuggled up to Fred. Like always, he sort of 
curled around me, making me feel suddenly warm and comforted. Not completely 
comfortable, you understand, because I still had a sort of knot in my 
stomach. 

"Even that went away after he put his arms around me and I could feel his 
warmth all down my back and around my ass. Oh, yes, I use words like 'ass' 
now, words nice girls don't use. But I only use them when I talk to somebody 
like a psychiatrist. I think maybe using dirty words like that helps clean 
out some of the ugliness in me, the dirty things I think about from time to 
time. 

"Fred's legs are awfully long and they bent around my ass and under my 
knees, so I could feel him down the whole length of my back. And feel him 
getting warm and getting me warm. One arm was sort of under my neck and 
draped down across one breast and the other reached around from the other 
side and came up under my breast. 

"I don't think he really noticed at first. I mean, we'd been doing this for 
years and I hadn't had any breasts to feel, and now I did. He sort of jerked 
one hand away when he felt my breast under it. The other one was sort of 
trapped under me, so he couldn't jerk that away. 

"I could feel him try to move it, and it was exciting. Sort of took my 
breath away. So I caught his free hand and put it back on my breast. The 
nipples were already getting hard, and down between my legs I was really 
getting hot. I mean, I could feel the heat myself. And I could feel his 
prick getting stiff, pushing at my ass, from in his pajamas. 

"I had on my shortie nightgrown, which had somehow got hiked up when I 
scrambled into the bed, so there wasn't anything between me and his prick 
except his pajamas. And the fly was open. So soon there wasn't anything 
between my ass and his prick. 

"Fred must have felt the head of his prick sticking between my legs because 
he tried to pull back, only I snuggled up closer because it felt so good 
tucked in between the cheeks of my ass, almost touching my asshole. Anus, I 
suppose I should say, because I do know the proper terms, only, if I'm 
trying to purge myself, using those dirty words helps. 

"I kind of squirmed a little bit, pushing back and opening the cheeks of my 
ass so his prick would slide in farther. I could feel it actually touch my 
asshole, which made it twitch. I could feel it twitch and I think Fred did, 
too, because he suddenly pulled back and kind of moaned. Then he pushed it 
hard against my asshole. 

"And his hands were fumbling with the front of my shortie, trying to feel my 
bare tits. The nipples were so hard then I knew he could feel them even 
through the cloth, which was pretty sheer anyway. 

"That made me really excited and I wriggled my ass up tighter against his 
prick. It slipped on through my legs and came up against my pussy, where I 
was really getting hot-and wet. I rubbed back and forth a few times, to make 
the head of his prick touch my pussy. Then the juices really started to 
flow. I could feel the lips of my pussy opening up and touching the head of 
his prick. 

"I clamped by legs together to make his prick fit tighter and make the 
rubbing more exciting. And Fred was helping, now, pumping back and forth and 
muttering, 'Mustn't! Mustn't!' But he kept on, anyway. 

"His hands kept fumbling at the neck of my shortie, which was kind of modest 
and old-fashion. Then he put his hands down on my leg and slid it up, all 
along my stomach-real shivery and exciting-to reach my breast. He squeezed 
gently on it and then ran his finger around my nipple. That really made me 
take a deep breath and hold it because the feeling was so good. 

"I was now wiggling my little ass and making his prick wiggle against my 
pussy. I mean, I was all ready to get screwed-but I was scared, too. Maybe 
the scariness was part of the excitement, like when I was lots younger it 
was fun to think about dragons and bogeymen and cuddle deep in the covers. 
Maybe that was even the beginning of sex. The dragons and bogeymen, I mean. 

"This was the real thing. This was a boy-even if he was my brother, 
Fred-with his prick right up against my pussy, and pumping. And my little 
asshole was jumping, too. I hadn't expected that. I mean, an asshole was 
just for one thing and then you forgot about it. But mine was jumping almost 
as much as my pussy. And seemed just as interested in what was going on. 

"I don't know if it's that way with everybody. I mean, if the asshole gets 
into the act with everybody. I kind of think it does. Or am I some kind of 
kook? I mean, am I mixed up physically? 

"Anyway, my little asshole was working almost as much as my pussy. Only I 
don't think it got wet, the way my pussy did. My pussy was really opening up 
and spouting juices. I know it was getting the head of Fred's prick all wet. 
Or maybe he was spouting juices, too. I guess he was, because later, when I 
wasn't quite so scarey excited, I could notice. 

"Fred worked one hand down my stomach, sliding it over my pubes. See, I do 
know the words, I've read up on it since. Then one finger teased at my 
pussy, sliding along and almost going in, just enough to touch my clitoris. 
That was really exciting, when his finger teased my clitoris. I jumped away 
from him at first and then right back, snuggling close, and wiggling so his 
prick would rub on my pussy, too. 

"I still wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next. I mean, I knew we 
were going to screw, but just what screwing was I wasn't quite sure. I knew 
a boy's prick went in you and something glorious happened-and maybe you got 
a baby. That would be awful, getting a baby by your own brother! The very 
idea sort of shook me. I mean, really shook me, even physically. I actually 
shivered and shook. 

"Fred said, 'What's the matter, kid? Am I hurting you?' and I told him, 'No, 
I just don't want to get a baby. Please don't give me a baby!' 

"So Fred held me real close, ramming his prick between my legs and touching 
my pussy. He held on to one breast and with his free hand teased at my 
clitoris, until I was shivery and shaking, still pressed up tight against 
him. 'It's too late to stop now, towhead! You've got me all worked up. And 
you, too. We both want it bad!' 

"I don't know what made me say it. I don't think I'd ever heard of it, even. 
Not then. 'Couldn't you go in-behind?' 

"Fred stopped feeling my breast and my clitoris, like he froze for a minute. 
'In your asshole? Would you like it there?' 

"I didn't know whether I would or not but I said, 'Yes! Oh, yes!' because I 
know you didn't get babies that way. I knew that much. And I wiggled my ass 
against his prick, rubbing it hard against his pelvis. 'Go in that way. 
Please! Please! Now!' 

"Fred drew his prick back and it was all wet and slippery. So it should have 
been easy for him to go in. Like a grease enema, only bigger. I didn't 
realize how much bigger until he began to slip it in, pushing hard against 
my asshole and pulling at my buttocks to make it easier. I was helping, 
spreading my cheeks as wide as I could and feeling that big head of his 
prick push against my asshole. It hurt. 

"And then his head slid in. I could feel it go right in, and feel my asshole 
close over it. It was exciting, terribly exciting. Especially when he slid 
his hand back over my pussy and started playing with my clit again, getting 
his finger wet with my juices. At first I sort of pulled away from him, but 
with his arm around me, holding one breast and the other over my leg, 
reaching for my pussy, I couldn't pull far. Anyway, I suddenly wanted his 
prick all the way in. 

"I kind of backed up suddenly, feeling his prick slide in, deeper and 
deeper, like maybe it would poke out my front. Only of course it didn't. I 
could feel each little movement as it slid in. And I helped, pushing back, 
so Fred could sink it even deeper. 

"It felt awfully hot inside my asshole and kind of dry, almost like he'd 
shoved a piece of broomstick up me. And then somehow it all got wet. I don't 
know if I wet or Fred did. But something lubricated my insides and made 
everything smooth and wonderful. And I wasn't worried about maybe I'd get a 
baby, so I could just sort of gave myself up to enjoying his prick in my 
asshole and his fingers playing with my pussy and my nipples. 

"He was moving very carefully at first, sort of waiting, I guess, to see if 
I was hurting. Well, I was. A little. My asshole seemed to be stretched 
bigger than I'd ever known it, and the ramming back and forth was making it 
get hotter and hotter. My pussy was getting hotter, too, and spouting juices 
like crazy. And my nipples ached with the excitement of being teased and 
caressed. 

"I could feel his hot stomach up against my back and his pelvis bumping into 
the cheeks of my ass, while his prick was ramming deep inside me. I could 
make my asshole squeeze down, too. Fred liked that. He kept saying, 'Do it 
again! Do it again!' 

"I wiggled my hips so I got in a sort of rotary motion that made his prick 
seem to twirl up in my anus. I could feel every inch of it, way up, it 
seemed, in my belly. I don't think he really went that far but it seemed so, 
then. And all sorts of hot and exciting things were happening up in my 
pussy. Things got tighter and tighter up there, responding to his finger and 
the drive up my asshole. And juices were flowing. 

"Fred suddenly grabbed me very tight and pulled me back against his stomach, 
almost clawing at my breasts and ramming hard with his pelvis. And about 
that time I let go, way up in my pussy. Far up. Like boom! And then a lot of 
little booms! At the same time I could feel the sudden pulse and stab of his 
prick. 

"My little asshole could feel stuff pulsing through and something going on 
inside me, like a big hot gusher. All in one big thrust And then Fred let me 
go. I mean, his arms sort of went slack and he slumped against my back. My 
asshole could feel his prick beginning to deflate, only my asshole was 
squeezing down tight, as if it wanted to get some more. It couldn't. Fred 
was through. 

"So was I, really, except I kept getting these shivery shakes every time his 
prick would deflate a little more, until finally it slipped out. He kept his 
hand over my pussy, though, and he must have felt it pulsing, too. Until 
finally it subsided. 

"We lay there, spoon-fashion, for a long time, just enjoying the warmth of 
our bodies and the slow ebb of our excitement. I knew I had been screwed and 
wouldn't get a baby, which was wonderful. Wonderful! Maybe it wasn't the 
regular way to screw but it was very satisfying. Really wonderful. 

"Yes, really wonderful. I lay there, backed up against Fred, my back to his 
front and letting the warmth seep between us until everything felt cozy and 
good. I think I dozed off a couple of times and maybe Fred did, too, it was 
so good and easy. 

"Of course, my little behind ached-but not so much-and it was wet from 
Fred's juices, so it was sort of slippery. I mean, I could move, and move 
the cheeks of my ass and feel the wet. And backed up against Fred's front, I 
could feel his pecker, sort of wilted now, but already beginning to revive 
and start pulsing a little. 

"Fred tried to pull back when he realized his pecker was still active and 
tapping at my behind. But I liked it. It felt good, tapping away at my 
little asshole. 

"So I kind of squoze back on it, pushing my asshole right up against it. 
Easy. Not really starting things, just-enjoying. And Fred's pecker was 
really getting back into business, getting stiff and big, and his bulb 
punching pretty steady at my behind. 

"I wiggled around a little, until the bulb of his pecker was right up 
against my little asshole. I caught his hands and held them tight over my 
bubbies, because they were beginning to feel things happening, and my 
nipples were getting hard. 

"Fred played with my nipples, 'biting' them between two of his fingers and 
'chewing' on them, which made everything very, very exciting. So I pushed 
back harder with my asshole against his pecker. I could feel his bulb slide 
into my asshole, much easier and less painful than that first time, even 
though my little behind ached some from that first asshole fucking. 

"I was sort of geared to it, now, and could really enjoy each movement. I 
mean, I sort of knew what to expect and could anticipate the fun, and work 
my asshole with a kind of rhythmic 'chewing' that really sent Fred up the 
wall. He moaned and kept saying, 'Don't, kid, don't We mustn't, Eloise!' and 
things like that. And all the time his pecker was drilling farther and 
farther up my asshole. 

"His hands started working in time to his pecker, too, squeezing down on my 
bubbies and finger-chewing my nipples till I was squirming with the joy of 
it, the wonderful sensations that were going all up my front, from my little 
cunt to my throat-and even up in my head, which seemed to feel awfully 
light, like a balloon, and yet be heavy, too, as if I couldn't lift it. 

"Inside it was light, almost giddy. Like it was a vacuum. But my real head, 
I mean the bone and muscle part, was heavy, so heavy I couldn't lift it off 
the pillow and Fred's arm. 

"I think I felt more this time than I had the first. I mean, I recognized 
things I was too excited to notice. Like I could feel Fred's pubic hair 
rubbing against the cheeks of my ass. And the pressure of his legs on the 
backs of mine. Especially when he let go of one bubbie and ran his hand 
along the inside of my thigh and up to my cunt, playing with my clitoris. 

"I guess that was the most exciting moment of all, when he played with my 
clitoris and his big rod slammed hard up my asshole. And I was coming in my 
cunt and wriggling my behind and 'chewing' with my sphincter muscle on his 
pecker. 

"And everything happened at once. My juices swelled and gushed way up my 
cunt, wetting all the way down to my pussy and even dribbling on my leg and 
the bed. Fred fired a big salvo of juices up my asshole-way, way upand all 
the lights whirled, and drums beat inside me. 

"And we both had an orgasm. Yes, I know the right words. Like I say, I 
looked them up. We both 'shot off-Fred up my asshole and me way up my cunt. 

"And collasped-just sort of sagging against each other and breathing shallow 
until we could get back to something near normal in breathing. 

As Eloise has admitted in the telling of her case, she "had a pretty good 
upbringing." It was probably a better and stricter upbringing than Eloise 
cares to admit to. Her fear of pregnancy as she has stated, is probably more 
of a fear that the pregnancy would reveal her as a sex pot-thinking in her 
terms. This revelation of her proclivities to her parents was to be avoided 
at all costs. 

It is worthy of noting that, in her effort to conceal her sexual activities 
from her parents, Eloise selected the one sexual partner most clearly 
prohibited in the Judeo-Christian ethic. She chose incest, with her brother 
as her partner. 

From her statements it was clearly her own choice-that is to say, she 
deliberately seduced her older brother. She has attempted to mitigate the 
offense by practicing with him only anal fornication. 

"I had liked it as an experiment and I had evermore enjoyed it as a rerun. 
Plus, I didn't have to worry about having a baby. Yes, I figured I'd stick 
with asshole fucking-anal coitus, if you want to get textbookish. For a long 
time. 

"And drifted off to sleep thinking about it as Fred's pecker slid slowly out 
of my asshole." 

Manfred S. Guttmacher, in Sex Offenses, notes that a number of forms of 
"connections," variations on a theme of coitus, are extremely common. "In 
many individuals these are the normal components of sexual foreplay and they 
are often indulged in sporadically by quite normal individuals as an end in 
themselves." His book includes the admonition against letting any highly 
specialized form of sex, such as anal coitus, become the dominant feature of 
a sexual relationship since it can produce trauma and guilt complexes. 

Just such appears to have happened to Eloise. Anal coitus has become, for 
her, a double transference. She ignores the incestuous relationship in 
explaining so carefully the "benefits" of anal coitus. She will enjoy all 
the sexual delights while suffering none of the possible penalties: i.e. 
pregnancy and attendant exposure. 

Yet, from her own words, she is not enjoying the full extent of sexual 
gratification through anal coitus. This becomes obvious in her constant 
references to her vagina and its reactions to anal coitus. Throughout her 
account of her sexual experiences runs a faint but detectable thread of 
dissatisfaction with the anal coitus. 

Undoubtedly, Eloise did receive considerable sexual gratification from anal 
coitus. The ilioiguinal tract has close neural ties with the vaginal-urinal 
tract. Stimulation of the anal tract will almost invariably trigger 
responses in the vaginal tract that will induce a reaction very similar to 
completion of the heterogenital coitus. 

Sexual gratification through heterogenital coitus varies considerably with 
the individuals involved and, in the same individuals, will vary in 
intensity from act to act. So it becomes manifestly impossible for one like 
Eloise, who has never yet know heterogenital coitus, to make a clear 
evaluation of her own reactions. 

In the case of Eloise, the incidence of incest and her deliberate and 
apparently conscious burying of this aspect of her sexual relations has 
compounded a problem for her. This becomes double transference-with incest 
secreted deep in the act of anal coitus. Either incest or anal coitus would 
by itself present a difficult problem for a young girl to surmount. The 
combination, buried in her subconscious, will be extremely difficult to 
bring to the surface, even though she professes to be interested in ridding 
herself of the anal coitus obsession. 

There is, we believe, nothing immoral or even improper in heterosexual anal 
coitus. It is, with many married couples, a variant on their regular sexual 
practices simply for the pleasure of the variation. With others, 
heterosexual anal coitus is a means of circumventing the problems of a 
wife's period. 

Henry David Aiken, of Brandeis University points to another reason for a 
complete casting aside of the normal restraint placed on this generation by 
our social mores, which would prohibit intercourse of any kind with a 
brother. He maintains that this generation faces "the most extreme of all 
predicaments that has ever confronted man." The hydrogen and atomic bombs, 
he says, are a "constant potential for instant extinction of the human 
race." The possibility, he concludes, makes it tempting to disregard our 
social mores and "strive today for intensity of experience." 

Eloise practiced anal coitus with her brother because she was not 
constrained on the incest element of her sexual relations, which could be 
attributed to what Aiken considers "striving today for intensity of 
experience." However, it would seem that she negates much of Aiken's 
theories by carefully selecting a method of sex-anal coitus-that would not 
produce future problems. Of course, it can be argued that Eloise was quite 
within the scope of Aiken's theories in that she did not wish to produce 
another generation to suffer under the threat of the bomb. However, she does 
not indicate this in her story. 

What she does portray is a girl suffering from two conditions that exist. 
The act of heterosexual anal coitus had become an obsession with her and the 
fact that her initial practices were with her brother, Fred, created serious 
and extremely deep-rooted guilt complexes over the incestuous nature of the 
relationship. 

The fact that Eloise painstakingly avoids any reference to the 
incestuousness of the relationship indicates the depths to which the 
brother-sister relationship is buried. So basic an ethic of the 
Judeo-Christian precepts, under which Fred and Eloise were brought up, 
cannot be so willfully flaunted without producing the very guilts Eloise 
felt she was hiding. 

The fact that she later switched from her brother as sexual partner to a 
number of other young men with whom she had anal coitus may be a step toward 
rationalizing her incestuous relationship with her brother. In this way she 
may well be able to reject the guilt complex of incestuous relationship. 
Eloise will then be one major step on the road to emotional recovery from 
her now prolonged sessions of heterosexual anal coitus. 

The very fact that she appears to be making the effort to reject the 
incestuous relationship in her continuing relationships with other young 
men-even though she may make no overt statements regarding it-may work her 
emotional state around to the point where she will no longer be obsessed by 
the desire for heterosexual anal coitus. Hence, the prognosis for Eloise is 
that she will, sometime in the near future, make a complete and voluntary 
volte face on her attitude toward heterosexual anal coitus. Her constant 
references to her desire for a baby and "regular sex" is obviously part of 
this drive toward elimination of the anal coitus obsession. 

The probability is that once she has made the conversion, anal coitus will 
become abhorrent to her, at least for a long period of adjustment. In this 
second half of her statement we can trace the gradual shift of emphasis from 
incest to a general sexual life-style. 

"I think the most satisfactory thing about getting screwed in the asshole is 
that you don't have to be afraid of getting a baby. You don't depend on a 
condom working or maybe the pill being effective. You just know you can't 
get a baby, so you just let go. And have a wonderful time. 

"Maybe it isn't as wonderful as getting screwed in the pussy. I don't know. 
I've never tried that. I want to. I want to get married and get screwed in 
the pussy and have a baby. I think that's why I am talking all this out. To 
get it out of my system, so I can get married and get screwed in the regular 
way. And maybe get a baby. I think I'd like to have a baby. 

"Only right now I like getting screwed in the asshole. I mean, I really like 
it. And I've had enough experience to know I like it. Is that crazy? Is it 
perversion? I guess it is, or I wouldn't be here, trying to clear it up, 
would I? 

"Fred got me started on anal screwing. Or I got him to get me on it, however 
you want to put it. And I've been on that kick a long time, now. 

"You know what I missed in that first screwing Fred gave me? Not seeing. I 
mean, I didn't see anything happening. I guess I had sort of daydreamed of 
one day, or one night, some guy coming along and screwing me. I could 
picture it so clear-except for details. I mean, then I didn't know the 
details. And then this asshole screwing with Fred sort of all happened 
behind my back. And I didn't see anything happening. 

"Fred wasn't nearly so ready to try it again as I was. Not that he was 
chicken, really, but he said he felt guilty. When boys get noble they could 
be a real pain in the ass-not the kind I wanted. 

"I had to tease Fred into screwing me again. I guess I could have gotten 
some other boys to screw me. Plenty of them seemed to like to make passes, 
but they all wanted to fuck the regular way. At least, they all pawed around 
my little cunt and tried to get into my panties that way. 

"Oh, it was exciting. I almost came a couple of times, just from boys 
playing with my little pussy, sliding their hands up under my panties and 
playing around with the lips of my cunt and tickling my clit. They played 
with my bubbles, too. The nipples would get hard and that would stir things 
up inside and I'd come out with juices, my little cunt getting hot and wet. 
But I never let any of them get into it. Not all the way. I mean, like 
sitting in a boy's lap while he finger-fucks me. And while I can feel his 
pecker getting big and trying to bust out of his pants, rubbing up against 
my little cunt. And all the time his other hand is playing with my bubbies, 
until I am nearly ready to faint with the excitement of it all. 

"I guess I got a reputation for being an awful tease, letting the boys play 
like that and then not screwing. But I just couldn't. Getting a baby seemed 
the most awful thing that could happen. 

"So I teased Fred into screwing me. I kept letting him see me getting 
undressed-very accidental, so as to make it exciting. Then I'd scrooch up 
next to him when we had the TV on and tug his hand around so he was feeling 
my pussy, whether he really wanted to or not. Oh, he wanted to, all right. I 
could feel him get hot and squirmy, and the way he'd play with my pussy 
meant he really was interested. But noble. 

"Until one night when Mother and Father had gone to town for a show and 
dinner again and we had the house practically to ourselves. So I teased him 
some while we watched TVsome dumb old war movie-and he got really excited 
and started playing with my bubbies. I knew I had him hooked then. 

"So, even before the movie was over we went upstairs to bed. I sneaked into 
his room and he was already laying on the bed breathing heavy, his pajamas 
poking way up where his pecker was already stiff and waiting. I told him 
what I wanted. I wanted him to screw me dog-fashion, with me kneeling on the 
bed and him coming at me from the rear. That way I could see what was 
happening and it would be more exciting. 

But first of all, we played. I had never really had a chance to play with 
Fred's pecker, like to hold it, I mean, and fondle his balls. His pecker was 
a lot bigger and shinier that I had realized. And it was fun to play with, 
to slide my hand up and down that shaft and watch the head get shinier and 
dribble wet. And Fred was moaning and writhing and ready to stick his ole 
pecker in me right then-only I still wanted to play. I wanted him playing 
with my bubbies and squeezing my hard little nipples. 

"He was good at that. And his hand could work down along my cunt and slide a 
finger in and out, tickling my clit and making my little pussy spout juices 
till they were dribbling right down the crack of my ass. That felt specially 
good, because it was getting my little asshole wet and ready for action. 

"I could reach down and touch his big pecker and grab it and slide my hand 
along its big shaft and watch the purplish-red head pulse and spout drops of 
juices. Every now and then Fred would lean over and run his tongue across my 
bubbies, circling each nipple and teasing it in and out with his tongue till 
my chest got so tight I could hardly breathe. 

"And all the time my little asshole was working, like it was chewing on 
something that wasn't there yet. Fred's prick wasn't in my asshole yet, but 
it soon would be. I flopped over on the bed and got up on my hands and 
knees, dog-fashion. By that time Fred was really moaning, eager to stick his 
pecker in my rear. 

"He crawled up on me, holding on to me by my bubbies, his hard, stiff prick 
knocking at the cheeks of my ass. I could look down my front, right between 
my legs and see his ramrod pushing at me, and his balls hanging and 
swinging. I backed up on his prick a little and it stopped slapping at the 
cheeks of my ass and settled down, aimed right in my asshole. Not in yet, 
but resting and twitching right at the lips. 

"By ducking my head a little I could almost look up my cunt, then on up 
toward my asshole with his big, slippery pecker pushing there. I balanced a 
little on one elbow and reached down, so I could stroke his pecker and play 
with his balls, because seeing it all and feeling it and touching it made it 
all the more exciting. It all gave my pussy an exciting ache that needed to 
let go, or I'd bust. Only I knew it wouldn't let loose until Fred rammed his 
pecker deep up my asshole and we rode out the excitement together. 

"I wriggled a bit, bucking backwards so Fred's pecker would slide inside my 
butt. The head went in, leaving that beautiful long shaft and those balls 
hanging down. With my free hand I could just reach his shaft and balls, 
trying to tease them deeper into me. By peering down between my legs, I 
could see the whole thing, watching his shaft bury itself inch by inch. Oh, 
I could feel it all right, but seeing made it all the more wonderful. 

"Fred backed off a little and I lost some of his shaft. Then I backed up, 
too, and rammed it home. This time, right up to his balls, so they were 
hanging down and knocking against my cunt. Fred let go of one of my bubbies 
and started tickling the lips of my Cant. That drove me more wild. I 
wriggled and squirmed and clamped my asshole down on his shaft, like I'd 
chew it to pieces. Fred yelped and grabbed my hips and rammed his pecker as 
far up as he could. Then he sort of fell on me and we both collapsed on the 
bed, with his shaft buried deep in me and working like a big piston. 

"I could buck a little, too, in spite of Fred's weight. So we were really 
going to town, with both of us humping and my asshole chewing on his prick. 
It was so exciting I didn't even miss not seeing it anymore. 

"Then his shaft seemed to swell in my hole and pulse with the juices he was 
pumping into me. And I was working my little asshole to suck for more. It 
all seemed to well up at once, until my chest felt as if it would burst. 
Then I let go, too, with a sort of half whoop, half sigh and just-quit. 

"I couldn't move another muscle. I just flattended out under Fred and lay 
there, his hot stomach pressing me deep into the bed, his hips slowing to a 
halt while they seemed to push me deeper into the mattress. It didn't seem 
I'd ever get strength enough to lift Fred off my back so I could breathe 
again, but, after a moment, he rolled off, pulling his limp pecker out of my 
asshole. 

"That almost made me come again, just feeling it pull out. I had never had 
it so wonderful. 

It didn't seem that it could ever be that wonderful again, but I knew it 
would. I knew, now that Fred had broken down for the second time, that I 
could have all the asshole fucking I could use. 

"It didn't turn out quite that way because we didn't have too many 
opportunities before Fred got called up for the draft and went off to camp. 
He couldn't get leave for six weeks and when he did, all his old friends had 
so many things for him to do that we never really got much chance to be 
together. Not that it mattered so much. I mean, I liked having Fred bugger 
my asshole because he was sort of convenient, being at home. Just the same, 
I found some pretty good substitutes. 

"Like I said, a lot of the boys had been feeling me up and getting pretty 
randy about my not letting them go all the way. There were a couple I liked 
pretty well, George and Al. They both knew how to feel a girl up and get her 
real excited and both of 'em had pretty big peckers. I know. I'd felt 'em 
when they got a hard on from feeling me up. 

"I had a date with George for a dance up at the club. He drove me up in his 
dad's car-and started putting his hand on my leg almost as soon as we were 
in the car. I didn't try to stop him. Fact is, I even slid around on the 
seat a little so's he could reach my cunt easier. So by the time we were 
almost at the dance, George was pretty hot. By the dash of light I could see 
his pecker was swelling way up. I even slid my hand over on it and George 
pretty near wrecked the car. 'Don't do that, Eloise, unless you mean it!' 

"I tried to tell him then. 'I do mean it, George. Honest I do. Only, I'm 
scared of getting a baby. If you'd be willing to do it my way-in my 
behind-I'll let you.' 

"So we never got to the dance. Not that I minded, because I learned some new 
ways of screwing in the asshole that are just as exciting as anything Fred 
and I did. 

"George found a place he knew where we wouldn't be noticed, and we climbed 
over in the back seat. I let George feel me up for a while, until we were 
both breathing heavy. Then I reached down and rubbed his pecker, feeling it 
grow and grow until it was as big as Fred's, or maybe a shade bigger. 

"George unzipped his pants and his pecker stood up, shiny and hard looking 
even in the moonlight. I had slid out of my panties by this time and my cunt 
was already wet with juices that were beginning to run down the crack of my 
ass. I wasn't sure how we were going to work this, in the back seat of a 
car, but George pulled me around, facing him on his lap, with my feet on the 
seat on either side of him. That cocked my knees up and put my little cunt 
right up against his prick. 

"We sat like that for a few minutes, just letting his prick rub up against 
my cunt. George wanted to go right in my little cunt, and he begged me to 
let him, but I wouldn't. Finally he slid my ass up, half lifting me, and set 
my asshole down right on his prick. I kept from squealing and held off his 
going in right then by pushing against the seat. 

"Then the head of his pecker slid in and my little asshole wrapped itself 
right around him. And we were asshole fucking! It was a wonderful position 
because I could push with my feet and hold him off or slide down on him as 
deep as I wanted to go. And he could hump up a little and ram his prick far 
up my ass. He had an awful long shaft; it went deeper in me than Fred's had 
ever gone and started things happening way up my behind. 

"And happening in my cunt. My little cunt was squirting juices that ran 
clear down to my asshole, and that made things slicker and easier and more 
fun. George would tickle my cunt and tease my clit, making more juices flow 
and making things get awful tight and exciting in the tit department. Once 
in a while George would slide a hand up my dress and play with my bubbies, 
and once he slid my dress all the way up and started sucking on my nipples, 
first one, then the other, until I almost screamed with the excitement. 

And then I did scream, because George's prick exploded way up my ass, deep 
in me, and that triggered all kinds of things into happening, in my cunt and 
tits and up my whole insides. 

"It was glorious! Marvelous! Better than anything Fred had ever done. Mostly 
I guess, because of the position, where I could see what was happening and 
even help control how deep he could go, but mostly I think it was the fact 
that, sitting in his lap like that forced my little ol' asshole deep down on 
his pecker and pushed his pecker way up inside me. Plus, of course, there 
was room for lots of action, lots of movement. 

"That wasn't the last time George and I had some good sessions of asshole 
fucking, always in that same position, which seemed to fit so perfectly. We 
didn't always do it in a car, either. I mean, George's folks had a cottage 
up on the lake and we'd go up there and asshole fuck, sitting in a chair. 
Even in a big wooden rocker. That was fine. 

"After I learned how I could handle George for strictly asshole fucking, I 
started going with Al, who was almost as good and maybe his prick was a 
shade longer. And then some of the other boys would take me out. I had to 
make it clear I wasn't going to let anybody in my little cunt, but I would 
take 'em in my asshole. 

"Now I can get all the asshole fucking I want, once the boys understand. I 
am just scared to death I'd get a baby. Something would go wrong, like the 
pill wouldn't work or a condom would break. I couldn't have that happen. Not 
until I'm married. 

"Maybe soon I'll get married. So I figure I'd better start finding a way to 
unhook myself from asshole fucking. It's good, all right. It's wonderful! 
Only maybe getting screwed the regular way is even better, not that I can 
see how it could be, but lots of people recommend it. Maybe I'll like it. 
Maybe I'll even like having a baby." 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Alice ... Gang Rape 

"I guess I was a little sexy that night. I mean, I was sort of showing off 
my cute little drum majorette uniform, which was on the skimpy side. I sort 
of stuck out in places where the uniform wasn't. Actually, my breasts poked 
out and up just a bit too much for comfort. And my little fanny filled out 
all the cloth there was to fill out-and shook when I walked. 

"All right, so I twitched my fanny a little, prancing up and down in front 
of the malt shop, after we'd beat Hoover High. Just feeling cocky, because I 
felt the cheerleaders and drum majorettes had helped to win. Anyway, we had 
put on quite a show at the half. And all through the game, for that matter. 

"So I felt like prancing. I got out of the car and was strutting to 
imaginary music, picking my knees up high and flipping my brief little 
skirt, the way we had at the half. Only this time making it a little sexier, 
mostly, I think, because the boys were kind of sore. 

"Boys are lots more conservative than girls in some ways. Or maybe I mean 
conventional. Anyhow, the three I was with didn't like me strutting up and 
down in front of the malt shop but the two other girls thought I was cute 
and kept egging me on. Lots of the high school crowd were there; some 
inside, at the tables, and some outside in cars. I knew most of 'em, being a 
drum majorette and cheerleader. And most of 'em knew me. So I was getting 
calls from all over to 'strut my stuff after that victory over Hoover. 

"There were some of the motorcycle crowd there, too, but off to the side-and 
mostly sitting on their bikes and sneering at the kids still going to 
school. Like dropouts were something special and going to school was gooney. 
Only they weren't sneering at me strutting my stuff. They were grinning at 
me and nodding and raising their coke glasses at me, like saluting. So maybe 
I did put on a couple of extra flour ishes when I got to their end of the 
parking lot, like wiggling my little behind and stepping a little higher, so 
my breasts would bounce a bit more. 

"Hal didn't like my strutting. Not a bit. He was my date, sort of. I mean, 
the three of us girls, Ruth and Abbie and me, always sort of went out with 
Hal and Benny and Logan, to dances and school outings and movies. And Hal 
was just 'sort of my special friend. We weren't even really going steady, 
and hadn't got around to sex yet. Lots of the kids were trying it out but 
our particular bunch hadn't. I don't know why, except that we managed to 
have so much fun doing other things, and our parents were such good scouts 
about parties and camp-outs and ski trips and things that we just never 
seemed to feel the need for sex. 

"Except, of course, we liked a little heavy necking and petting and feeling 
up. But the boys weren't really serious about it, and Ruth and Abbie and me 
had made it clear: so far and no farther. So that's all it had been necking. 

"But Hal suddenly got bossy, like maybe he owned me, and ordered me back 
into the car so we could go home. I guess he could see the effect my brief 
little panties and skimpy top was having on the motorcycle gang and some of 
the other, older boys. Only I wasn't going to be bossed. I just strutted 
faster and wiggled a bit wilder. 

"Hal got out of the car and tried to make me get in, pulling at me. That 
made me sore. I mean, him acting like that, right out in front of the school 
crowd and all, like maybe he had some claim on me. So I pulled away and told 
him he could go home without me. I could get my own ride. 

"I could have, too. I mean, there were lots of our crowd there and anybody 
would take me by the house if I asked. But then one of the motorcycle crowd 
came over and said, kind of tough, to Hal: 'The lady says leave her alone. 
She can get her own ride home. So she's got it. On my bike. If she's not 
scared.' 

"I was scared. I mean, I hadn't meant to start an argument. And I was scared 
of bikes. I had ridden a couple of times on my older brother Jim's bike but 
I hadn't liked it. Still, Hal had made me mad, acting like he owned me. So I 
pulled away and said, very loftily, 'This gentleman will see me home.' And 
walked over with the motorcycle crowd, even if I didn't like 'em very much. 

"The bike boy-I later learned his name was Bruce-glared at Hal, like he 
dared him to start something, and laughed pretty nasty. Then Hal went back 
to his car. I was really hoping Hal would tell me to be sensible and come 
back to the car. I would have gone with him. I was ready to, except Bruce 
practically swung me onto his bike and jumped on, starting it all in one 
motion. 

"He gave some sort of call to the others in the motorcycle gang and they all 
wheeled out of the parking lot together, with Bruce and me in the lead. I 
looked back just in time to see Hal scramble into his car and start backing 
out, trying to follow us. Only the motorcycles swept out and were tearing 
down the street before Hal could turn his car around. 

"I could see Bruce wasn't going in the right direction for my house. I tried 
to tell him, but he either didn't hear on account of the wind or-as I know 
now-he never intended to take me home. Instead, he took me far out in the 
country. I tried to jump off but he speeded up so fast I didn't dare jump. I 
wish I had. 

"He stopped in front of a sort of barn, and the other motorcycle guys pulled 
up on either side. I tried to scramble off and run but one guy stuck out his 
foot and tripped me. And laughed. I think the laughing scared me more than 
anything. Even when I tried to scramble up, another guy kicked me hard on my 
behind and laughed when I went face down in the grass. 

"Then two-of those bike riders grabbed me and hustled me inside the 
barn-only it was more like a repair shop, with parts of bikes all around. 
And cots. Several cots. They threw me on one cot and Bruce came to stand 
over me. 'You gonna strip yourself outa that costume or do it the hard 
way-with me helping?' 

"He didn't give me a chance to answer, just reached out and grabbed my top 
and yanked. It came away and I was naked to the waist, with my breasts bare 
and shaking, because I was crying and trying not to. 

"Bruce reached over and squeezed one breast so hard I yelped. It hurt. And 
he laughed. Then two boys grabbed my arms and pulled me back on the cot 
while two more ripped my little bitty pants off. I tried to kick them, but 
they just laughed and twisted my legs until I almost screamed. 

"Bruce sort of gave orders to the others and they held me, spraddle-legged 
on the cot, while Bruce pulled his pants down. I could see his pecker, 
hanging down but getting stiff and rising, until it was almost straight up, 
and purplish red and shiny. And dripping juices. I could see all this and 
couldn't quite believe it. Things like this didn't happen. Not in our crowd. 
Not to girls like me. 

"I'd never even seen a boy's-well, Bruce was almost grown, so say, 
man's-pecker full-size and stiff, and coming right at my little cunt. 

"The boys that were holding my arms each grabbed one tit and started 
squeezing, and the ones holding my legs started rubbing along the inside of 
my thighs. In spite of trying not to scream and being so scared, I knew my 
little cunt was getting wet and opening up. 

"Bruce walked in, between my legs, aiming his big prick right at my cunt and 
laughing. 'See, she likes it. Look at her box, opening up. Yeah, man, she's 
really gonna like this.' 

"And he rammed his prick right at my cunt. I screamed and squirmed and tried 
to move aside but the boys holding my legs were strong. And one of the 
others slapped my face so hard I saw stars. And felt the pain of Bruce 
sticking his big prick into me. Hard. And pushing. So the pain shot all the 
way up me. 

"I could see his prick, buried in my hole, and feel it, like a big baseball 
bat sliding up inside me. Then he was working back and forth, rubbing that 
big prick up inside me. It hurt something awful and at the same time was 
awfully exciting. And Bruce was sweating and laughing like crazy and pumping 
back and forth until I could feel his prick swell even bigger and start to 
pulse. Suddenly he rammed it against my cunt so hard I could feel his balls 
banging my behind. And held it, squirting his juices way up me, in great hot 
spurts. 

"He stood there, twisting and grunting and wriggling, driving his prick as 
deep as it would go, and moaning. Then he seemed to deflate and sag. His 
prick went down, too, and started sliding out. 

"I figured it was all over and they'd let me go. Only they didn't. Each of 
the other boys stuck his prick in me. Or I think so. I think all of them 
did. I don't really remember after the first two or three. The pain was so 
great I fainted. Only I'd sort of half wake up and there'd be another boy 
banging his prick into me. Even the two Bruce had left on guard. 

"And then Bruce again. 

"It was while Bruce was banging me that I heard the scream. I'd been 
screaming so much I thought it was me I was hearing. But it wasn't, this 
time. It was one of the boys. 

"My older brother had come. He's a marine. And he had a couple or three 
marine buddies with him. 

"Bruce was still screwing me when my brother came charging in. Jim just 
swooped over on Bruce, raised both hands above his head and came down with a 
judo chop. I understand he broke both collarbones. Bruce screamed and tried 
to turn. Jim caught him one right under the chin and snapped his head back. 

"I guess I fainted about then. I don't remember much of the fight. Not that 
it was so much of a fight. Jim and his buddies just mopped up the place. 
Those motorcycle boys were tough, but a commando-trained marine is a lot 
tougher. 

I heard that Bruce was so badly beaten he screamed for mercy-and then ran 
outside and tried to get away on his motorcycle. Only, with his face beat to 
a pulp and his arms not working, on account of the broken collarbones, he 
couldn't handle the bike. So he went right off the mountain and was killed. 

"Jim and his buddies were taking the others apart-so I heard-when the police 
came. Hal had called my brother and then the police, and since one of the 
boys-Benny, I think, knew where the gang's headquarters was and told Jim, 
Jim got there ahead of the cops. And the ambulance. 

"I don't remember the ambulance or the ride to the hospital or anything for 
maybe a week or so. And I'd wake up screaming. Not from pain. I think they 
gave me things for the pain, but not for forgetting the awful things that 
had happened to me. 

"Then, months later, there was the trial. First the state tried Jim and his 
buddies for manslaughter. And I had to go all through that awful night 
again, describing it for the court, so that Jim could go free. Oh, he went 
free-and I think the judge would have given him a medal if it had been 
allowed. 

"Then I had to go all through it a second time at the trial of the 
motorcycle gang. Except they had all got haircuts and shaved off their 
sideburns, trying to look respectable and clean cut. It didn't work. And 
they all went to the penitentiary for different periods. I didn't understand 
that, because each of them had screwed me. Only they all tried to lay it on 
Bruce, who was dead. Especially the kidnaping part. 

"I went away after that, to a girl's school. My family wanted me to forget. 
Only, I couldn't forget. And I didn't forget in college, when I went there. 
The nightmares were just as bad, only I'd learned not to scream. 

"I couldn't go out with boys. I just couldn't bear the idea of one of 'em 
touching me. And yet there were times when I wanted sex. I mean, I wanted it 
so bad it actually hurt me, inside. I could feel all the want and hunger but 
the very idea of anything like that happening to me made me feel ill, 
churning me up, inside." 

"I hadn't seen Jim since the trials, mostly because he'd gone back to the 
service, while I was off at that girls' school and college. It wasn't that 
we avoided each other or that my family didn't want me to see Jim because it 
might remind me of that awful night. It just happened we didn't connect. 

"Then Jim was out of service and staying in a town near the college, so I 
went over one weekend to see him. I was shocked. Jim looked haggard. Like 
worn and thin. He was lying on the bed in his room, just staring at the 
ceiling. He barely greeted me. 

"I asked him what was wrong. He told me. 

"'I'm a murderer, kid. I killed that man just as sure as if I'd wrung his 
neck. Saying it was justified doesn't make it any less murder. It just means 
that if something got me angry enough-like what happened to you-I could kill 
again. Not that I am trying to excuse it, or put anything off on you, kid.' 

"It seems Jim wouldn't go out with girls. He honestly couldn't bring himself 
to go out with 'em or think about screwing them. Or even getting married, 
because that meant screwing. And that meant remembering why he'd killed a 
man. Yet he was hungry for a girl. He really needed one. I mean he needed 
one to sleep with, so he could release some tensions and maybe learn to be 
whole again. 

"We talked about it until late that night. About him needing a girl and me 
being hungry for sex and yet scared to screw. 

"We really needed each other. But how? And then it occurred to me. I 
couldn't think of a guy going in my little cunt again-but there was another 
hole. My asshole. 

"It could help us both to readjust. Jim wouldn't hear of it, when I first 
suggested it. In fact, he was sort of horrified. Boys are lots bigger prudes 
than girls in some ways. It could be the answer to both our problems. So why 
not? 

"It took some persuasion. I even did a sort of striptease to break him down. 
And I did, finally. I was there, stark-naked, shaking a little, because I 
wasn't altogether sure I could take it, without going crackers. And Jim was 
looking at me, hungry like, and groaning. 

"I had to help him off with his trousers and pull down his underpants. But 
he was getting a hard on by then. His prick looked enormous-like a baseball 
bat with a big purple-reddish knob. I was sure, now that I'd started this, 
that I'd never get that big prick in my little asshole. 

"Jim had some vaseline and I worked that around my asshole and then threw 
myself on the bed, facedown, waiting. 

"Jim was very gentle. He caressed my back and then slid his hands around to 
tease my breasts and fondle my nipples, so I was getting more interested in 
sex and less scared of what was going to happen. 

"My little cunt was filling up with juices and starting to quiver when I 
felt Jim slide his prick between my legs, under my asshole and rubbing 
against my cunt. It was so different from the way it had happened the first 
time that I could really relax and let the waves of heat and flashes of sex 
shoot through me, relaxing my legs until they just fell apart. 

"Jim slid his prick right up to my asshole and sort of hung there, poised, 
waiting, I guess, for me to give some sort of signal I was ready. So I 
humped up and felt the head of his prick slide in, and felt my little 
asshole grab hungrily at it. 

"Then Jim eased his prick on in, being very careful to wait and see if he 
was hurting me. He wasn't. It suddenly felt glorious. All that big prick 
sliding up my asshole, starting all sorts of excitement inside me! 
Marvelous! And I wasn't afraid. I mean, I didn't feel like screaming or 
anything, except maybe for sheer pleasure. 

"Then his prick slid all the way in, so deep I could feel his balls thumping 
between my legs, right up against my cunt. And my little twat that was 
chewing at them. And we were asshole fucking, in a kind of ragged rhythm 
that soon settled down into a real smooth, red-hot get together, with all 
kinds of wonderful things happening way up inside me. Most of it because 
Jim's big ol' prick was pulsing away far up my asshole. 

"I hadn't known asshole fucking could be so wonderful. I had just sort of 
meant it as a kind of exercise for me and Jim, to get rid of some of our 
inhibitions. Only it turned out wonderful. I hadn't even known there were 
places up my asshole that could feel so strongly and cause my juices to flow 
so freely. 

"And when Jim shot off, ramming his prick hard against me, I could feel my 
own juices let go. And all sorts of exciting things happened inside me. Even 
when his prick was sort of deflating and sliding out of my asshole, I could 
feel excitement and deep, deep contentment. Yes, in one evening, I had got 
rid of a lot of inhibitions-just through asshole fucking. I loved it." 

Alice obviously had a happy childhood, though she does not specifically 
mention it. The milieu was that of an upper middle class family where 
education to college level was the norm. The interfamily relationships were 
good, tied with both affection and intelligence. Her youthful sex 
experiences with boys were, as she puts it, strictly so far and no farther. 
Petting, necking and even "feeling up" were permissible. Actual sex was not. 

That made her rape experience all the more traumatic. She was virgo intacta. 
This would normally call for slow, careful and considerate treatment on the 
part of a male before his penis would be acceptable to her vagina, before 
her physiological preparation for sex would be complete. 

Instead, her rape was violent, sudden, completely without physiological 
preparation. Her sex organs were undoubtedly severely damaged. Though she 
does not mention it in her account of the affair, probably because it all 
had extremely painful and traumatic associations, her family obtained for 
her the best medical attention. Neither does she mention any permanent 
physiological damage, therefore we can assume that the medical care was not 
only adequate but probably of top quality. 

There must have been physical scars in and around her vagina after such 
violence, but not conspicuous. They could not begin to compare with the 
emotional scars etched into her mind by the brutal, ignorant violence of the 
rape. 

She mentions that she does not recall how many of the motorcyclists had 
intercourse with her that night. This is probably a statement of her 
emotions rather than actual fact. Except for moments of excessive pain, 
which could have caused momentary blackouts or lapses of consciousness, she 
was probably dimly and horrifiedly aware of what was happening to her body. 

She resolutely refused to recall it after the event and during the necessary 
testimony at the two trials. This suppression put it out of her conscious 
mind but buried it deeper in her subconscious, apparently for a number of 
years, through the completion of high school (at a girls' school) and at 
least part way through college. 

These were the formative years of Alice from girlhood into womanhood, a time 
during which she should have been free to grow emotionally; a time during 
which her body and her emotions should have developed in unison, as a 
preparation for eventual marriage and parenthood. 

This normal cycle was broken. Her emotions and reactions were stopped by the 
trauma of the rape while her body continued to develop. Fortunately, with 
her family background of education and intelligent use of her faculties, 
Alice herself recognized her condition and was able to evaluate it. 

Although she could intelligently evaluate her situation, recognizing that 
the trauma existed, even down to its cause, she could not find a suitable 
solution. Being a normal young female of nubile conformation, she had the 
right to expect sex and to be prepared to enjoy it. Without the intervention 
of rape and the trauma it created, Alice would undoubtedly have found her 
normal emotional level and relationship with the opposite sex. 
Statistically, by the time she was well into her college years, she would 
have found an outlet for her biological urges. Whether the liaison would 
have been legal is not a question for the psychologist, except as the lack 
of legality might have produced a guilt complex. 

Here we find a girl of considerable intelligence with her emotional life 
warped by the traumatic experience of rape (and the subsequent trials 
testimony). She sought a solution to her problem-and found it in an 
incestuous anal relationship with her older brother, James, who had killed 
(more or less accidentally) one of the rapists. For him, too, there was a 
trauma, the realization that he could, in a rage, strike to kill. Haunted by 
this spectre, James avoided what he considered possible sources of emotional 
involvement which could lead to the same degree of rage and therefore 
possibly to the violence that could lead to killing. 

He was undoubtedly overreacting, not so much to his guilt in killing the 
rapist as in being too late to save his sister from rape. These were twin 
guilts he had to live with. He lived with them through withdrawal. 

The anal coitus with his sister, the rape victim, did present some form of 
release for James' guilt complexes. One factor in his release was 
undoubtedly the fact that his sister, the actual rape victim (because he was 
late) was the seducer in the anal coitus. 

The Rasmussen-Bender-Blau study of 65 female children who had sexual 
intercourse with adults concluded that by no means all were the helpless 
victims but played an active and even initiating role in their delinquency. 
"They might even be considered the seducers rather than the seduced." 

Certainly this was the case with Alice. She was the instigator and the 
aggressor throughout. And apparently a rather persuasive seducer. She 
managed to convince James that the act would release her from her trauma. In 
this she was correct. By making anal coitus a substitute, as we shall see. 

In her statement Alice professes to believe that continued heterosexual anal 
coitus with men other than her brother will eventually lead her back to 
normality. The prognosis is that this method alone is un-likely to produce 
the results she hopes for, but the act indicates a willingness on her part 
to seek a psychiatric adjustment that may well mean a reasonably complete 
cure. 

"Somehow, sleeping with Jim and letting him screw me in the asshole didn't 
seem like incest. I guess maybe it was but it seemed more like a sort of 
therapy, a kind of mutual helpfulness. I can't say it helped Jim. Not right 
away. He felt so guilty about screwing me, even in the asshole, that for a 
while he was more tied up in knots than before. But he relaxed, and got so 
he could sleep nights. 

"He told me that the next weekend I came to see him. But he didn't want to 
screw me again. I had to persuade him that I needed that kind of treatment 
because I was more up-tight than he was. After I persuaded him, we did it 
spoonfashion. I slid out of my clothes and lay down naked beside him. He 
shucked his clothes, too, and we lay there, both of us a little nervous but 
getting pretty hungry for sex. 

"Jim lay beside me, hands tucked under his head as if he wasn't quite sure 
how to use them. And he wouldn't look at me. Just stared at the ceiling. 

"I had a real cute figure by then. My breasts weren't very large. I mean, 
they weren't fat and bouncy but they were nicely shaped and there was enough 
of them for a good handhold. My little ass that had been kind of outsized 
and really wiggly when I was a kid had slimmed down to nice rounded 
buttocks, shading down into long tapering legs. And my stomach was nice; not 
absolutely flat but with some interesting curves and hollows. 

"Jim was built well, too. He had broad shoulders and strong-looking arms. 
His chest was broad and thick, with not much hair-just a sort of 
masculine-looking mat right between his nipples, like a toupee that had 
slipped. His stomach was almost flat, with strong ridges of muscle that 
rippled sometimes when he talked. He had sturdy-looking legs, with plenty of 
muscle and quite a bit of hair. And his pecker! Well, I tried to keep my 
eyes off it at first. It was lying across one leg, limp, but still pretty 
good size. 

"We lay there, both of us naked, both of us wanting sex, and yet like a 
couple of innocents who didn't know quite what to do. I know Jim wasn't 
innocent. He'd been a marine too long. Not that I'm saying all marines run 
around screwing everything that's got a hole, but marines do get around. And 
they learn about sex pretty early, if they don't already know. 

"Jim must have known about sex when he rushed in to rescue me from that 
motorcycle gang, even if killing that guy who was screwing me did sort of 
give me inhibitions later. 

"So there we were, two kids, really, wanting but not knowing quite how to go 
about it. And maybe a little ashamed, too. I kind of broke through things by 
reaching for Jim's pecker, just stroking it a little, and feeling it jump 
and start to get stiff. I really wanted to know about peckers. I mean, most 
girls learn about men's pricks the first time they get laid-if it's-any real 
kind of screwing that's fun for both. But I hadn't had time to learn. I just 
got a prick stuck in me even before I was ready. And then another and then 
another. Just learning the pain and not the pleasure of screwing. 

"Now I could really see a man's prick and feel it and know all about it 
before it went stabbing into me. What's more, I could really enjoy looking 
and feeling because I knew it wasn't going to be jammed in my little cunt 
and maybe tear me up inside, the way I had been torn up. 

"Jim's prick was big and getting bigger as I fondled it. The head got big, 
shiny, too, and started to dribble sticky juices. Jim eased up some then and 
dropped his arms, so that one fell across my breasts, and his hand was 
teasing my nipple. He dropped the other hand across my leg and started 
running his hand up my thigh, which felt pretty good. I mean, I was getting 
sort of wound up, tighter and tighter. Only, when his hand got near my 
little cunt, I started to flinch and shake a little. Jim pulled his hand 
away quick and moved over to stroking my stomach, which felt wonderful. 

"And I kept playing with his prick until it was really stiff and up almost 
tight again his stomach. Next I ran my fingers through the stiff, curly 
hairs around his prick and fondled his balls-until both of us were moaning 
with the want of sex. Then I rolled over on my side, with my back to Jim, 
and he rolled up to me, sliding his arms around me so he could fondle my 
breasts and play with my nipples. His chest and stomach at first felt cold 
against my back, and then they got hot-or both of us got hot together. It 
was a real warm and lazy feeling, yet very exciting, too. 

"I could feel his prick against the cheeks of my ass, moving just a bit, 
sliding up and down. I wiggled a little, to get closer, so I could really 
feel it rubbing against me. It seemed awful long, extending up the crack of 
my butt to my spine. And I was conscious of every inch of it, it felt so 
good. And I was a little worried, too. I wasn't sure I could take all that 
prick up my asshole. Then I remembered. I already had taken it once. And it 
had felt good. 

"I guess girls are sort of expandable inside, built so they can take a 
pretty good-sized prick. Maybe, if I had been coaxed into sex that first 
time, with lots of preliminaries and feeling-up, my little cunt wouldn't 
have been so hurt and would have been opened up and ready. 

"Now Jim was teasing my asshole with the head of his prick. It was wet and 
already spurting juices, so I knew I wasn't going to need vaseline this 
time. Jim would have enough lubrication for me. He slid his prick down the 
crack of my ass and then shot it between my legs, so that the bulb of it was 
right up against my cunt. That was a shock, sort of. And I held my breath. 

"But my little cunt responded. It didn't dry up and blow away or anything 
dramatic. It was just getting its juices ready, so that the head of Jim's 
prick slid over it and back and forth. I couldn't stand having Jim's hand 
reach down and touch my cunt, but somehow, having his prick slide back and 
forth, made it exciting. 

"I wriggled back against Jim, feeling the heat of his stomach and of his 
prick and legs. He tightened his arms around me and moved his hands over my 
breasts and nipples until they were hard and standing up. Once in a while 
he'd squeeze a nipple and let it spurt between his fingers, like a miniature 
screw. 

"He leaned forward and kissed me on the neck, running his tongue along the 
artery that pulsed and shook just under my ear. Once he bent almost around 
me, kissing at my throat and playing with my breasts. I wanted him to kiss 
my breasts and run his tongue around my nipples but I didn't want to take 
his prick from between the cheeks of my ass. So I just pressed his hands 
tighter down on my breasts and moved and wriggled a little to get more feel 
to it. 

"That wriggling also added more feel to where his prick was rubbing between 
my legs. The feeling got so intense and exciting I drew away and let the 
head of his prick slide right up against my asshole. Then I pushed back. 

"I could feel the muscle of my asshole getting stretched and yet not 
hurting, because the excitement was so wonderful. And I felt the head of his 
prick slide right inside and then felt my asshole close a little on the 
shaft. It was just like I was visualizing what was happening, only I was 
actually feeling it. 

"Jim drove his shaft slowly up my asshole, moving in and out a little, so 
that the head of his prick was rubbing the sides of my asshole way up 
inside. And starting some very, very exciting things happening. I know most 
of them were happening up in my cunt. I mean, I knew it in my head, but all 
my feelings seemed to be in my asshole. And Jim's prick rubbing and 
thrusting and going deeper each time made the breathless excitement grow and 
grow inside me. 

"I got into rhythm with Jim and we humped together so that his prick was 
thrusting way up and rubbing along the sides, starting more juices flowing. 
Suddenly Jim was still, his prick drawn almost to the head from my asshole. 
He went rigid, and shuddered, and then, with a moan, drove his prick so hard 
and far up my asshole I could feel his balls bounce against the cheeks of my 
ass. Far up inside me I could feel the head of his prick pulse and swell and 
start shooting hot come juices into me. 

"And my juices responded, so that we came almost together, in an exciting, 
breathless moment of utter stillness. 

"Then Jim relaxed, slowly, his arms first, falling away from my breasts, 
then his stomach, rolling slightly away from my back, and finally his prick, 
deflated and wet, slid out of my asshole. And I relaxed, too, just lying 
limp, letting waves of feelings wash over me and enjoying every one of them. 

"Finally I turned over and smiled at Jim and he grinned back. 'We're good 
for each other, kid. At least, you're good for me.' 

"I nodded. 'And you're good for me, Jim. Wonderful.' 

"So we lay there, just completely at ease, and stark naked, sort of 
exploring each other with our eyes. Every now and then Jim would reach over 
and touch one of my breasts or slide his hand gently down my side and across 
my stomach. And I would reach over and stroke his prick, which was still wet 
with juices and a little sticky. 

"So presently we were both keyed up again and ready for another asshole 
screw. Only this time I wanted to see more of what went on-and I wanted Jim 
to be able to touch my breasts with his tongue. So I played with his prick 
until it was big and stiff again, and then I told him I wanted to try it 
with him lying on his back, with me squatting down on his prick. 

That way I could watch and Jim could reach my breasts. 

"I rolled over and sat up on Jim's legs and slid up on him until I could 
feel his prick rubbing at my asshole. Jim reached up and fondled my breasts 
and played with my nipples. Once he sat up and held me close while he sucked 
at my nipples and teased them with his tongue, making me very excited there. 

While he was sucking at my nipples, I raised up and wriggled around until I 
had his prick knocking right at my asshole. His prick was big, but I spread 
my legs and that spread my asshole, or anyhow the muscles. Then I slid down 
on his shaft, feeling the head slip in and then the rest, until I was 
sitting on his hips with his whole prick way up inside me. 

Best of all, I had been able to see everything that went on-from the moment 
the big, purplish head of his prick first nudged my asshole, spouting enough 
juices to lubricate it. And I watched while the head slid in, and while his 
shaft went deeper and deeper. 

"Jim could wiggle my little ass by swivelling my hips with his hands, only 
mostly he played with my breasts and teased my nipples. And I could ride up 
and down on his shaft at any tempo I wanted, sort of feeling my way to the 
highest excitement. He would hump up and down a little, enough to put maybe 
a little extra drive in his shaft and push it deeper into me. Then we got 
into a nice rhythm with gradually speeding tempo until I was bouncing up and 
down on his shaft, feeling it pulse way up deep inside me. 

"Finally Jim grabbed my hips and pulled me down real hard on his hips, 
moaning and gasping while he rammed upward. We held that for a breathless 
moment and I felt him shooting off his hot load far up me. And that 
triggered my come, so that I was writhing and moaning, too, then just 
falling limp, sagging into Jim's arms and letting his prick slide out of my 
asshole, still shooting hot juices. 

"Jim eased me down beside him and held me in his arms while I shuddered with 
the subsiding excitement in me. I think I even cried a little, but from the 
release of old tensions, not from hurt. Jim cuddled me up against him and we 
fell asleep that way, naked and at peace. 

"I woke up still wrapped in Jim's arms, feeling the wonderful warmth of his 
body close against mine and the soft rhythm of his breathing. And there was 
his prick lying limp across one leg while one hand cupped my breast even in 
his sleep. He woke slowly, a little surprised and then grinning at me, as I 
fondled his prick. Of course that started things all over again and we had 
another good fuck and a nice long rest before we got up for Sunday brunch. 

"We took a long, lazy shower together first, soaping each other's bodies all 
over. I didn't even flinch when Jim put his hand between my legs and soaped 
around my pubic mound and little cunt. It even felt good. And I soaped his 
prick and balls, very gently, and all over him, while he was soaping and 
touching my breasts. When he washed off the soap he kissed them and patted 
my fanny-which was, frankly, just a little bit tender from three asshole 
fuckings that morning. 

"But the best part was letting him touch my cunt and my not flinching. I 
figured then I might be cured of the nightmares of that awful evening, when 
all those boys-men, reallyraped me in that barn. 

"I found I could even think about them without hating, without choking up 
and getting sick at the stomach. It was as if I could take out pictures and 
look at those young brutes raping me without even much feeling. 

"I mean, without feeling revulsion. 

"Sometimes I could almost recreate the sensations-even the feeling that my 
little cunt was being actually ripped apart-and the hot stab of a man's 
prick being brutally rammed up my cunt, so far I could feel the balls 
banging against my behind. 

"It didn't hurt so much, now that I have found out about anal coitus-asshole 
fucking. 

The memories may even be serving to clear up my hang-up. 

"Like I can now even recall the bulb on the pecker of one of the boys who 
raped me. It was bluish gray and then got very reddish purple, with juices 
dripping from it, just before he slammed it into my cunt. 

"I can remember the way the cot or whatever-because I think that somewhere 
in there they moved me over to a table or bench-sort of cut into my behind, 
while the boys rammed their pricks, one after the other, up my little cunt. 

"I have always thought my cunt went numb-I mean, I didn't remember feeling 
anything, really, except pain. I could remember pain. But now that I was 
coming unstuck from this hang-up I began remembering other things. I could 
remember, for instance, the excitement in my body as one of the bulbs slid 
farther and farther up my cunt: I think that was from one of the slow 
fuckers. Or maybe he was just a little gentler. 

"And then there were my breasts. I didn't, for a long time, remember having 
any feeling in them at all during the rape. I kept thinking of my body as 
just being beaten and abused-hurting-but not how it felt. Now I could 
analyze it. 

"My breasts had responded. They swelled. I remember one of the boys saying, 
'She likes it! See, her titties are swelling.' Only they weren't swelling 
because I liked it. At least not consciously. I guess a female's body can be 
stimulated into functioning, even if she doesn't want it to. 

"I know that, now that I could look back on it without complete revulsion, I 
could recall the swelling of my breasts and the hardening of my nipples. I 
even remember that one of the boys flicked them with his fingernail, making 
them sting and hurt. But mostly they just sort of reacted, and stirred 
things up inside, so that I was wiggling my little butt and lifting my 
pelvis to meet the thrust of those pricks. 

"Oh, I don't remember doing it every time. I don't know that I did do it 
with each boy. I suspect I didn't. But I do recall highlights, when I did 
respond. And did thrust back with my pelvis, making the boy's pecker go 
deeper-and I even remember whimpering about itnot from hurt but from 
excitement. And I even remember feeling ashamed I let those brutes see that 
my body did enjoy being fucked. 

"There was all the pain-not from being screwed so much as from being beaten. 
Those boys were real brutes. I mean, in the brutish, animal sense. They 
didn't care what happened to me. I was just 'meat' to them-something on 
which they could vent their animal lusts. 

"I was slapped around, even struck with fists, and I think with ropes. Or 
whips. Or maybe even tire chains. I know somewhere along the line someone 
hit me with a tire chain. Across the stomach and along my shoulders. 

"When they got me to the hospital there were so many bruises and lacerations 
they didn't count 'em. Not that they keep any kind of record of the number 
of bruises at the hospital. Or I wouldn't think so. I think the police had 
somebody photograph my body. I do remember seeing pictures at the trial and 
even wondering then, while I still hurt, how I managed to live through it. 

"Those boys-they weren't boys and they couldn't really be called men, even 
if they did stand on their hind legs and were able to ride motorcycles and 
even make noises like talking-held me across a table. Bent me across it, 
really, with my behind on the edge and my legs over the side. 

"Two of them held my arms and two were under the table hanging onto my legs, 
bending them back until I screamed. Until the skin and flesh of my legs were 
drawn taut and my stomach was stretched. I know they pounded on my stomach 
once in a while, like on a bongo drum, and howled to the rhythm. They were 
worse than savages because they had had the opportunity to be human and 
hadn't quite made it. 

"While they held me bent over the edge of the table, with the edge cutting 
into my behind, one of them would stalk up and stand between my legs, 
grinning down at me, and saying, 'Okay, miss prissy pants, see how you like 
a real one in you.' And he'd grab his pecker and push the reddish purple 
bulb at me. Waggle it at me. And then slam it into me. Hard. So that I'd 
arch up. And one of those holding my arms would slap my stomach and push me 
down. 

"And the one fucking me would just stand there and pump his prick into me, 
driving it hard every time, until he would explode way up inside me. And I 
couldn't hide the fact that I felt it. I'd moan or maybe yell. And those 
brutes would hoot with laughter. And twist my arms or pull harder on my 
legs. 

"They wanted to hurt. I think they wanted to hurt more than they wanted sex. 
Sex, with them, was just an excuse to hurt. And they particularly liked it 
with-well, with someone they felt had a better education and place in life. 
They were dirtying me-and, as one of them said, 'peeing on the whole fucking 
bunch.' 

"That was before Jim and his buddies broke in, of course. After that they 
were just concerned with saving their skins. 

"This asshole fucking with Jim had freed me from a lot of that horror, even 
let me remember a lot of the details that really were better lost. 
Nevertheless, I think it did do me good, being able to look back on and 
consider the various parts of it, item by item, so that I can get it in 
perspective and into a real relationship to me, instead of just a 
conglomerate of horrors, a tangled mass of inchoate fears and memories. 

"Now I am beginning to straighten it out, to separate pain from excitement, 
horror from the inevitable tensions. But still, for a while, I want to stick 
to asshole fucking, so I'll have a chance to get used to the idea of men 
using my body again. I know now I can go out with men-and even do some 
pretty heavy necking that will lead to asshole fucking. That's all I want, 
for right now. Anything else can come later. 

"I think my asshole fucking affair with Jim saved me from going lesbian, not 
that I felt any particular desire to go that route, but I think my body had 
recovered from the shocks of abuse and wanted to be used. I was once more 
ready for sex, and I suppose I could have gone the lesbian route, just out 
of frustrated desire. And if I had gone that way, I doubt if I'd ever have 
come back to genuine, normal sex, as I think I can now. 

"It has helped Jim, too. He is going out with girls again. Sometimes I feel 
just a little twinge of jealousy-or maybe it's envy-for the girls who have 
Jim now. But I only need to remember that I had him first-just as he had me 
first, in a way. And we did help each other. 

"So, growing up and even marrying is going to be lots easier for me now. All 
from those wonderful sessions of asshole fucking with Jim. And a whole new 
world of sex it opened-no, reopened-for me." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Rita ... Figures Don't Lay 

"I was always a skinny kid, with the nickname 'Slats.' For a girl, that can 
be poison, a nickname like that. But worse than being skinny, I was tall for 
my age. I towered over most all of the other school kids. 

"This was especially embarrassing for me with the boys. What junior high 
kid, who is maybe a five-footer if you stretched things a bit, wants to take 
out a girl who is getting up around five-five and has to stand twice in the 
same spot to make a shadow? 

"And the older boys weren't interested, either. I was too skinny to have a 
figure, which was what the high school crowd looked at, mostly. It was 'Does 
she have bubbies?' and I didn't. Oh, I had something under my tee shirt but 
not enough even to have my mom get me a training bra. What I needed was 
something to train. 

"And it wasn't because I went on kook diets, like some of the 'puppy-fat' 
girls. It didn't seem to make any difference what I ate, or how much, it all 
turned into stick-straight lines, none of it to interesting contours. 

"I was pretty enough. I had a very nice complexion-and that drove the other 
girls wild because so many of 'em had ugly pimples-and nice, thick, wavy 
hair and a reasonable assortment of features. People always said, 'Oh, but 
she has beautiful eyes,' as if that made up for not having any figure-or any 
boyfriends. 

"I guess I could have had dates with some of the basketball players who 
wouldn't have to stretch to look up at this walking Eiffel Tower, only most 
of them seemed to prefer the cute, cuddly little girls. There was one boy I 
could have gone around with, a sort of neighbor. I mean, he lived over on 
the next block and was awfully tall and skinny. And awkward! That guy 
couldn't walk by a lamp post without butting into it. He seemed to fall all 
over those suitcase feet of his. 

"At least I wasn't gawky-oh, not after I was twelve or so. About the time I 
had knees like apples swallowed by a snake. But later, like around fourteen, 
I had nice-looking legs, if anybody had bothered to look. I mean, really 
look. Most people just sort of glanced-boys especially-and saw all that 
length and told themselves 'Toothpicks!' and didn't seem to notice I really 
did have cute legs. 

"Oh, I guess I could have dated some of the creeps, especially the kind that 
take a girl down for a soda and then expect to get a piece of tail on the 
way home. Them and the creepiecrawlers-the kind that sort of start reaching 
even before the soda. So who needs boys that bad? 

"It was when I was a senior in high school-about seventeen going on 
eighteen-that anybody really noticed I had a figure. He was the 'official' 
photographer of the yearbook, a guy who shot around our county and maybe 
other parts of the state, setting up mass picture shooting for the various 
high school and local college yearbook. 

"Jake was the photographer's name, a little round, bouncy sort of guy with a 
big shock of hair and staring pop eyes. He looked sort of like a frog and 
even blinked like one-you know, slow and kind of thoughtful, as if maybe he 
was digesting what he saw. That was Jake. 

Those slow-blinking eyes saw everything. And he got most of it on film. 

"Some of the girls said he made them feel squishy-and undressed. But that 
was only because he was looking at them that way. I mean, like they were 
undressed and he had to paint 'em on film with clothes on. As he told me 
later, he saw 'underlying structure.' 

"He shot some pictures of me, too. You know, the stock type. Head and 
shoulders-and the girls hoping their bosoms would show up. Then, after he'd 
shot the regular pictures for the yearbook, Jake asked me if I'd mind if he 
took some 'figure shots.' 

"At first I was kind of shocked, thinking he was maybe a dirty old 
man-though he wasn't really old-who wanted to take pictures of me naked. 
Only that wasn't it. He got in all sorts of poses: windblown hair, with 
dress plastered against my front; leg art, me sitting on a fence with lots 
of leg showing; fashion stuff, me strutting on what was supposed to be a 
runway but actually was an old chemical lab table. That was where he was 
shooting, in the old chemical lab. 

"When Jake came back with the proofs for the senior class, he was real 
excited about the picture he'd shot of me. He showed me the lot and some of 
them were really good. I mean, Jake really could do good photography. He 
made me look good, like something in a real sleek woman's magazine. In fact, 
that's what Jake wanted me to do, pose for magazine pictures. 'High 
fashion,' he called it, and said I could get rich at it. He even came over 
to talk to mom about my going to New York and making pictures for fashion 
magazines. 

"Mom was kind of dubious, but even she could see Jake had done some swell 
shots of me. And they really did look 'high fashion.' Jake told her he had 
some friends in New York who'd look after me and even gave me an address of 
a hotel for girls where I could stay. 

"There was a catch to it. I would have to go to modeling school for three 
months and then have lots of pictures made-at my own expense. Jake said he 
could get a friend there to do that part cheap. So I was sure mom would say 
'No!' loud and clear. But she didn't. She just looked thoughtful and studied 
me and then the pictures, then me again. Finally she nodded and said: 'I 
have almost a thousand dollars saved up for your college. If you really want 
to go. 

"Did I want to go! Oh, did I! This was the first time I'd been noticed as a 
female-and here it looked like I might even get to look glamorous. Did I 
want to try? You bet I did. 

"It wasn't as easy as it sounds, or as Jake made it sound, though he did 
help with getting me enrolled in a good modeling school-not one of the 
clip-joint kind-and got me set up for a room at this girls' hotel-only it 
was really a big boarding house. And a thousand dollars doesn't last long in 
New York. I had to ask mom for more and she sent a hundred, saying that was 
all there was. When that was gone-if I hadn't gotten a job-come home. 

"Jake came to New York then-buying some new lab equipment, he said, and to 
see me. I was his protege, sort of, and he said he wanted to be sure I was 
getting the breaks. He took me out to dinner, which was a lot better than at 
the girls' boarding house where most of 'em were on a strict slimming diet, 
which I don't need. 

"I almost cried on Jake's shoulder, like he was an older brother, telling 
him about how I'd have to quit when this last hundred was gone. He looked 
kind of funny. 'Do you really want to stay on and try for this glamour 
stuff?' He kind of sighed when I told him, 'More than anything! Why, I'd do 
anything! Anything!' 

"Then Jake came right out with it. 'Would you screw?' I had to think that 
over. With the kind of skinny kid I'd been, I hadn't even been 
propositioned. I never had to make up my mind whether I would or wouldn't. 
Finally I shook my head. 'I couldn't, Jake. I'd be too scared of getting 
pregnant. And that sure would put the kibosh on everything!' 

"Jake was sweating, heavy. 'If I could show you a way-absolutely 
positive-that you wouldn't get pregnant, then would you?' 

"I told him, 'I know about the pill and about rhythm methods and condoms-but 
none of 'em is safe for sure. Not absolutely.' And I was actually getting a 
little hot in the pants, just with the idea of getting screwed. 

"Jake shook his head. 'This way is abso-posilutely 100-percent sure. And I 
know guys would pay plenty for it. Up your behind.' 

"For me, 'Up your behind' was just a sort of expression that kind of meant 
'To hell wit yez!' So I didn't get it, not at first. Not till Jake 
explained. He really meant, get screwed in the asshole. Literally 'up your 
behind'! 

"I hadn't even known you could. I mean what's the point? That's not where 
sex is. That's up front. But Jake said you could get a real bang out of 
screwing in the asshole. And by then my own little asshole was sort of 
working into the act, getting hot and twitching. So maybe he was right. Or 
anyhow, not altogether wrong. 

"Jake said he'd give me a hundred-this was to start me off and help me get 
to be a glamorous fashion model-if I'd try it with him. 

Well, it was sort of like screwing your own brother. I mean, that's the way 
I felt about Jake-like he was an older brother. No emotional entanglements. 
Maybe that was a good way to learn about sex-with no emotional 
entanglements. 

"Anyway, up in Jake's hotel room I began to feel funny. I mean, I never 
really meant to get this involved. And I was nervous. I couldn't even 
unbutton my dress. Jake had to do it for me. And he undressed me the rest of 
the way. So there I was, naked, in a man's room-and he was going to screw me 
in the asshole. For one hundred dollars. I kind of huddled until Jake said, 
'Don't do that! You've got a beautiful body. Be proud of it!' And he was 
looking at me just like he looked at other subjects he was going to 
photograph. 

"He walked around me, nodding, frowning a little and blinking his eyes in 
that slow, froggy way. I guess that was just the treatment I needed because 
I did stand up and, as Jake walked around looking at me, I did sort of take 
pride in having a beautiful body. Also, I began to get excited all over 
again. My cunt was quivering and even starting to flow juices, though I knew 
I wasn't going to get screwed there. And my asshole twitched and itched a 
little. 

"Then Jake was slipping out of his clothes. I had never seen a man naked 
but, of course, I knew-kind of-what a man looked like, around his privates. 
There are books with pictures that show naked men. Only they don't show them 
the way I saw Jake, with his prick all stiff and swollen and reddish with a 
big, shiny bulb dripping juices, he didn't have a bad figure. I mean, 
hopping around fixing lights and all with clothes on, he looked kind of like 
a gnome, small and maybe wizened. Undressed, he wasn't like that, just short 
and stocky, with big trunk-like legs, a little hairy, maybe, and real strong 
arms. 

"And that prick. Jeee-zus, it looked enormous! And wicked! Not evil, 
just-wicked. And aimed right at me. I almost wilted then, but Jake came over 
and put an arm around me. That stopped my shivering. Then he sort of turned 
me, almost like in a slow sort of dance, till my back was to him and his big 
prick was rubbing the cheeks of my ass. And I was really getting hot. With 
my little asshole twitching and squeezing even before he got in. 

"Jake slid down in a chair and pulled me down into his lap, spreading my 
legs outside his. His prick slid up the crack of my ass and stuck out in 
front, like a purplish red eye winking at me from down by my cunt. He was 
rocking back and forth in the chair, making his prick ride up and down the 
crack of my ass and even tickling my cunt a little. 

"His arms were around me, cupping my tits and fondling my nipples, which had 
gotten as hard as his prick. Then he was sliding his hands up and down my 
sides and along my thighs. All the time he was teasing my nipples and 
working me up along my thighs, sliding his prick back until the throbbing 
head was rammed up against my little asshole-which was gobbling back at it, 
all ready to take it and eat it up. Jake said he had some vaseline, but we 
didn't need it, because my cunt was flowing juices that ran down my crack, 
right to my asshole, and my asshole was also turning out something soft and 
wet. And so was Jake's prick. 

"He was being gentle, knowing this was my first time, but even so, feeling 
the big bulb of his slide into my asshole hurt a tiny bit. Then my asshole 
tightened around the shaft, making me draw a deep breath of pleasure. Jake 
sort of rubbed my tits and played with my nipples before he made any more 
moves. He even cupped one hand over my cunt and pumped a little, like 
drawing out more of my juices. 

"And all the time he was easing his prick farther up my asshole. I could 
feel that big bulb sliding up my-tunnel, I guess you'd call it, because it 
seemed to go way up inside me. Then he rocked a little in the chair, pulling 
his prick down, so I could feel it better. I mean I could actually feel the 
sliding of his shaft up in me. And my asshole just choked down on it, the 
muscles seeming to do it on their own. 

"I rocked a little, sort of experimentally, to see if I could get more 
motion in my asshole, more feeling of his shaft inside me. I could, and that 
made me flush hotly all over. I guess Jake could feel that flush where his 
hands cupped my tits, because he started pumping, too. 

"We sort of collided the first few times and I grunted with the drive of his 
bulb so far up me, and the bang of his pelvis against the cheeks of my ass. 
Then we worked out a sort of rhythm, both of us rocking and getting all the 
motion and feeling. I was getting kind of out of breath and tight in the 
chest, like I wanted to yell. I really didn't, not right then. 

"Later, when his bulb exploded hot juices way up me, I did let out a yelp 
and pumped like crazy to get more feeling in my asshole. I was learning to 
work that, too, in a sort of rhythm with him, milking his prick for all its 
wonderful hot juices. 

"Jake let out a big sigh when he shot his load and let his hands drop from 
my tits. Then he just held on to my thighs, sort of shuddering and squeezing 
on them. I was feeling pretty ragged, too, what with the drained feeling up 
inside me-like maybe it was an orgasm. I couldn't tell, since nothing like 
that had happened before. It just felt good. Very good. And made me want to 
relax against Jake's chest and let him play with me while my body sort of 
climbed back into itself from wherever it had gone momentarily. 

"We just sat like that for a long time, relaxing while Jake's prick, sort of 
deflated and limp, slid out of my asshole. Then he gathered me up and 
carried me over to the bed. He put me down gently on my side, and then 
climbed in beside me, his stomach against my back. 

"We lay like that for a while, just enjoying being. Then Jake's prick 
started to quiver. It shivered a few times and then started to get 
hard-again. And it was poking at my asshole and sliding between my legs. 'We 
can do it spoon-fashion this time,' he said. 

"I hadn't known we were going to do it again, but I didn't mind. I mean, I 
had already let Jake come in my asshole, so why get persnickety about a 
second time around. Besides, it really had been exciting. Not quite what a 
girl dreams about when she thinks of getting laid by her dream man, her 
prince charming, but it did have its moments. 

"So there we were, laying spoon-fashion, which I had thought only girls did 
when they slept together, but I could see certain advantages with a man-his 
front to my back, his arms around me, his hands reaching for my breasts. And 
Jake was doing just that, fondling my breasts and teasing my nipples until 
they got hard again. And I was getting hot inside, my chest almost hurt with 
the tightness and both my cunt and my little asshole were working up a 
storm, like before. 

"There were differences. Or maybe I was paying more attention this time to 
the different elements and not just to the thing as a whole, like I did the 
first time. 

"For instance, this time I could actually feel his bulb flatten a little as 
he pushed it slowly up my little ole asshole. And I could feel my muscles 
back there close just a fraction over his bulb, to meet his shaft. 

"I could feel his shaft slide in, almost bumping itself over my muscle and 
stirring up new excitement with every tiny little bump. Plus, my muscle back 
there was working all on its own, almost chewing at Jake's big ole shaft. 
And Jake was liking. 

"Oh, yes, Jake was liking it. He may have been doing me a favor to get me 
the money so I could stay in New York for just a little longer, but he was 
enjoying it. He was really getting a boot out of screwing me in the ass, 
maybe because he'd looked at me and a helluva lot of other women down the 
lens of a camera and it was a relief and a real treat to get to bang one, 
particularly in the ass. 

"Oh, I don't mean Jake had never had a woman before or that he went unhappy 
for wanting one. I expected he had done his share of laying the female 
populace all over the country. And maybe a bit more than his share. But this 
was somehow different. 

"Or maybe I was just kidding myself. Maybe Jake was smart enough-and he was 
certainly smart-to con every girl he screwed into thinking she was something 
special. I guess some men have that knack-or they cultivate it. And they are 
the ones that get the most girls into a bed. Because they are smart enough 
to make her seem special. 

"I know Jake had made me seem special right from the start. I mean, like you 
take a dumb high-school kid who was too tall and too skinny for any of the 
boys to look at and you suddenly tell her she's gorgeous, that she's not 
only gorgeous but she deserves to have the world know it, by being in all 
the big magazines. You can bet your last pair of nylons or the baby's 
teething ring it makes a girl feel special. 

"Even so, I don't think Jake meant to get into my pants when he started 
telling me I should be a 'high fashion' model. Oh, no more than any guy 
would, talking big to any girl. I mean, I don't think Jake had an actual 
campaign of seduction mapped out when he started talking to me and then to 
mom about my going to New York and getting famous as a model. 

"I honestly think he was just interested in discovering talent. Honestly, I 
do. Because he never made a pass the whole time. He never even hinted maybe 
I should screw if he could get me to being a big-time New York fashion 
model. Most guys I know would have thrown out a hint, anyway. But Jake 
didn't even say, 'Well, when we meet in New York, maybe you'll remember the 
guy who got you started, eh?' and wink lewd. 

"And if it was just getting into my pant-seven by the back door-Jake needn't 
have offered the hundred bucks so I could stay another week or so, waiting 
for 'the big break.' I was so blue, I'd have gone to his room and undressed 
and laid on the bed and said, 'Screw me, Jake, screw me. And send me home to 
Podunk.' Not that I actually live in Podunk, if there is such a place, but 
it's an expression We have in New York meaning like-'Go back to the sticks, 
hicks.' 

"But here was Jake, spending a hundred bucks of his hard-earned money-and 
believe you me, photographers earn their bucks, really earn 'em-to stick his 
prick into my behind, just so I could spend a little more time in New York 
and maybe get to be famous and glamorous. Maybe he was a klunk to do it, 
knowing he probably could'a had me just by asking. I was so grateful for 
what he'd already done. And I certainly hadn't figured on any financial help 
from him. 

"Of course, if I was going to stay in New York and become a fashion model, I 
couldn't take the chance of screwing the regular way, where I might get a 
baby. But if I was headed back for the sticks-back to Podunk-I probably 
wouldn't have cared. And I might even have taken my chances on the baby, 
even if that isn't smart. But you've got to remember, I was feeling plenty 
blue about then. Broke, in a strange town-a bewildering town, really-and a 
career shot before it even started. 

"Yeah, I think I might have let Jake screw me any way he wanted to take me. 
But that hundred dollars made it possible to stay in New York, so, of 
course, I had to think of my figure. And that meant taking no chances on 
getting a baby. 

"So there I was, in bed with Jake, letting him ram his prick up my 
asshole-and I was liking. Especially this second time around, where I could 
sort things out. Mostly my feelings and reactions. I suppose I could have 
just laid there and let him ream me and not thought about emotions. They say 
some girls can. But I get involved. 

"And I was involved now, feeling every little motion of Jake's shaft up my 
asshole, responding to his fingers playing with my nipples, and to his hand 
cupped over my pussy, and his finger beating a sort of tense rhythm in my 
cunt, right up against my clitoris. 

"I bucked a little, but cautiously, to see if I could drive his shaft 
farther up my behind without shaking anything loose, because, right then, 
everything seemed pretty precarious, sort of right at a balance point. 

"I guess it was, because right about then Jake gave a big grunt, or maybe an 
outsized sigh, and rammed his dong hard into me. At the same time he tickled 
my clitoris and triggered all sorts of wonderful things into happening. 

"I could feel that ole shaft way up my behind starting to pulse and swell as 
something went right on up it, like mercury up a thermometer-and BOOOOOOM! 
Out at the top! Hot juices splattering all around in my insides, and 
fireworks going off down in my stomach and behind my eys. It was glorious. 
Magnificent! Wonderful! And even better that that, if there are words that 
go up that high. Only I don't." 

Rita's early frustrations over her ungainly height and "slat" figure are 
reflected in her response to Jake's curious proposition. She accepted a 
proposition that should have been abhorrent to a young woman in her 
circumstances. Aside from the inducement of one hundred dollars, what 
motivated Rita into accepting anal coitus with her friend whom she regarded 
almost as a brother? 

She had never had any sexual experience, not even the minor heterosexual 
contacts of high school necking parties. This, to a girl, is a deflating 
experience-or lack of experience. Since she was abnormally tall during her 
adolescence, she had some very tightly supressed neuroses about her personal 
being. She has even come to regard herself as a freak, fit only to associate 
with "creeps" as she calls them. 

Since she is a naturally fastidious personas her emphasis on neatness and 
the minutiae know 'em. And anyway, they probably aren't really the kind of 
words for that kind of feeling, which is a series of big, quick booms and 
skyrockets and silent explosions-well, you get the idea I liked it. I did. 

"And I had earned a hundred dollars, so I could stay in New York a little 
longer and maybe become a glamorous fashion model." of her bodily 
development indicate-she will not submit to these "creeps." Instead she 
finds a man who is a professional judge of feminine beauty, who finds her 
not only attractive but possibly even glamorous. This is definitely the 
Cinderella dream, the ugly duckling theme, brought to life in her personal 
experience. 

That is extremely heady emotionalism for anyone to handle, let alone an 
adolescent girl who has, for most of her life, thought of herself a "gawky 
and awkward." The man who made all this possible offered Rita a way out at 
the precise psychological moment when the dream was about to fold for want 
of a little cash. He offered a form of sex-which she had never 
experienced-that promised no unfavorable results-i.e. pregnancy-and the 
chance to continue her budding career. 

The two appeals overwhelmed Rita-an opportunity for sex and the chance to 
continue the career that could lift her out of her drab and uninteresting 
milieu into a future that appeared glamorous. 

She accepted Jake's proposition and, probably because of long-suppressed 
desires, found heterosexual anal coitus a release of those suppressions. 
Because she had no experience for comparison, it was seemingly a complete 
sexual gratification. 

Although Rita had suppressed desires be cause of her gawky youth when no one 
gave her sexual drives, even scant interest, she obviously does not suffer 
from what Sigmund Freud, in Three Contributions to Theory of Sex, postulates 
as psychic trauma, which must come from within. Therefore, both her response 
to any sexual arousal and especially to anal sexual arousal, and its 
gratification, is likely to be slight. And her future interest in it 
minimal. 

As we shall see, Rita adapted readily to heterosexual anal coitus and found 
it a very satisfactory (substitute for) sex. The probability is that it was 
as satisfactory a sexual adaptation as Rita could make, given the background 
of her youth and adolsecence as an over-tall, extremely thin youngster-who 
could eat like a horse, as she admits. 

Without more specific examination of her physique, hormones and glands, it 
is impossible to reach a final conclusion. However, it is apparent that she 
suffered some metabolic maladjustment or some glandular deficiency or 
hyperactivity, causing that excessive growth and exceptional thinness. The 
likelihood is that this carried with it a low reaction to sex. 

Her experience with Wayne, the "high fashion" photographer, would seem to 
indicate that she was able to react to sex. However, it is only necessary to 
listen to her statement, to know that most of her alleged "response" is 
verbal. 

To be sure, she experienced a certain amount of arousal and even achieved 
climax, but her own analysis of her emotions leaves the listener cold-as if 
Rita herself were quite cold and only mechanically responding to what she 
knows she should respond to. It would seem to be a learned response rather 
than a completely natural one. 

It is quite possible that Jake's initial seduction, via anal coitus, had a 
more serious traumatic effect on her than even she realized. However, her 
physical makeup seems to play a large part in her acceptance of anal coitus 
and fellatio as a substitute for a more normal heterosexual relationship. 
She seems to have remotivated herself, possibly deliberately, toward money 
and success as goals in lieu of complete sexual gratification. 

In all probability Rita will always remain sexually cold. Even though she 
has come forward for one psychiatric session, her expression of interest in 
normal sex is so slight as to be negligible. She is un-likely to make 
further effort. 

"Jake was pretty nice to me that night. We had a couple of more sessions up 
my hind end, only one of which was any real excitement for me. Jake seemed 
to get a big boot out of fucking me in the ass, though, and he paid off-one 
hundred dollars. That was a life-saver, because it meant I could stay on in 
New York a little while longer and be that much closer to a glamour career 
as a fashion model. But, of course, I would need pictures. Lots of pictures. 

"Jake introduced me to this 'high fashion' photographer who does shots for 
the slick magazines and for big advertising accounts. Wayne was as thin and 
wiry as Jake was stout and bouncy. And he had that way of looking at you, as 
if he could see you without clothes. Maybe right down to the bones. 

"Wayne also had a very fancy studio, all plush front and a real workshop in 
the back, with a whole storeroom full of props and even a wind machine so he 
could get outdoor effects. He said most of the clients liked real outdoor 
shots better, but this wasn't always practical, since summer clothes were 
usually designed and photographed in early winter, and winter clothes came 
out in late May or June. That was so the magazines could make their picture 
selection and do their layouts and get plates made and so on in time for the 
actual season. 

"Wayne got some late season outfits for me, stuff that was over the line and 
either too late or too early for the big slick magazine blasts. And he 
started taking photos of me whenever I was free from the modeling school and 
he had some free time. 

"'Look, kid, you have to meet my schedule,' he told me. 'For now, anyhow. 
I'm not doing this for free but it's so near free I can't spend regular 
studio time on these shots. However, because you're a friend of Jake's and 
he believes you've got that certain something that makes good high fashion 
models, I'm taking the short end of this risk. I happen to see something 
good in you. If you really want to, you can make it in this rat race. But 
you've got to want to, so hard you'll do anything to get there. And one of 
the things is, right now, you work on my schedule. Which is gonna be some 
very odd hours. Game?' 

"Fashion photographs by Wayne for my portfolio could mean a real boost into 
big time. So I said, 'Yup. With me, anything goes.' 

"Wayne looked at me, kind of funny and grinned. 'Okay. So it starts at 
ten-thirty Wednesday. Night, that is. The studio's jammed till then.' 

"I got there just about ten-thirty Wednesday. The studio was set up for a 
moonlit balcony scene and a corner of a plush bedroom. When Wayne handed me 
that sheer nightgown, I had an idea of what was coming. We got through some 
shots on the balcony and a few of me flinging myself rapturously on the bed, 
as if in love with a mattress. 

"Wayne came over to adjust the nightie to that look of perfect carelessness, 
and grinned down at me. "These shots usually run five hundred. For Jake, I 
made 'em for two hundred. They needn't cost you anything. Compree?' 

"Of course I 'compreed.' Only too well. I sat up. 'Look, Wayne, I don't 
sleep around. So it'll have to be the two hundred.' 

"Wayne looked me over so closely I was beginning to get hot, even in that 
sheer nightie. 'You don't mind going the backdoor route to success, do you?' 
So I knew Jake had let something slip. Maybe not deliberately, but it was 
out. Rita could be had. At least, the ante had gone up, from one hundred to 
two hundred. I was getting to be a real high-priced-call girl. 

"So I shrugged. 'If it's only the back door.' I didn't really expect to feel 
anything, but Wayne knew how to get a girl worked up. And I mean, worked up. 
Before his hands had got done playing with that nightie and my tits and 
teasing my nipples, I was writhing on the bed, practically begging him to 
ream me in the ass with his prick-and I hadn't even seen it. 

"I saw it then. Wayne slid out of his pants and underpants in one wriggle. 
His prick wasn't maybe as big around as Jake's but it seemed longer. And the 
head almost gleamed, like a ripe plum, already shiny with his juices. 

"I couldn't resist reaching frr it. It stood so strong and erect, that big 
bulb of a head practically staring at me. And all the time my little asshole 
was working. And so was my cunt. But it was my asshole I was most interested 
in. It was chewing at air. Then Wayne slid a finger along the crack of my 
ass and tickled my asshole. It was something new, a real jolt that made me 
want to scream and ram his prick up deep. 

"I rolled over on the bed, ass up, the cheeks working in a kind of rotary 
motion. Wayne pulled me toward the edge of the bed, so that my legs hung 
over the side. The stiff bed cover slithered over my tits and stomach, 
touching off new places for excitement. I had to crane around to watch, if I 
wanted to see Wayne slam his prick into me-and I did. Watching was a big 
part of the fun, the buildup to real excitement. 

"Wayne knelt beside the bed, sliding up between my legs and knocking his 
prick against my asshole. Which promptly started chewing back. Then he slid 
his hands forward, under me, cupping my tits and playing with the stiffened 
nipples while he rocked back and forth, pushing at my asshole with the head 
of his prick, but not quite going through. 

"The studio setting made it seem romantic, almost a honeymoon scene, so long 
as you didn't look toward the camera and blackout lights and see the gaunt, 
bare walls. But right there, in that corner of a bedroom, on a big, bouncy 
bed, it did seem honeymoonish. And I was going to get screwed! Soon! 

"I sort of humped back into Wayne's prick and felt it slide almost in. But 
he pulled back, teasing my asshole with it, rubbing it around, moving it up 
and down. And his juices were wetting my asshole. I'm almost sure I was 
wetting my own asshole with my own juices, but maybe that was just my little 
cunt letting go. Anyway, I could feel things happening way up inside me, 
even before Wayne rammed his prick in and my asshole closed over the shaft, 
tightening. Yes, I was learning now how I could tighten it deliberately and 
get more feel from his shaft-and give more, as Wayne instructed. 

"Wayne rode his shaft in in one slow drive-different from Jake's quick, 
short takes and back-ups. And it felt wonderful. I mean, I had to hold my 
breath while his shaft kept going in, deeper and deeper, with no letup. Just 
one long, slow, continuous motion. And he held me tight, so I couldn't move 
to start anything that might interrupt his long, slow drive. 

"Then I could feel his balls hit the crack of my ass, falling almost over my 
little cunt. He held it like that for a long moment, tightly rammed into me. 
Then he began some short, quick drives that increased in tempo while his 
hands spread the cheeks of my ass, so he could go further in-and farther up. 

"Way up inside I could feel the sliding of his big bulb until it seemed that 
my whole asshole, all the way up, was alive and eager. And then it happened. 
Wayne slammed into my ass, grinding his pelvis against my buttocks, half 
shouting, clutching at my hips and pulling me tighter to him. Oh, how I was 
twisting and turning on those stiff bedclothes, so starched for the photos, 
feeling them against my tits and stomach and thighs. And better than 
anything else, feeling the sudden swelling of his prick, the mass of his 
come shooting up his shaft and exploding far up inside me. 

"He held on for a moment, shuddering, and then slid to the floor, dragging 
his prick from my asshole. And I collapsed, half kneeling, on the bed, 
shivering with the excitement and intensity of it. 

"Wayne leaned his hot cheek against the cheek of my ass then and patted the 
other cheek with a shaking hand. 'Wonderful, kid! Wonderful! You'll go far 
in this crazy, mixed up profession of high fashion-where .half the guys in 
it aren't sure just which sex they are. And the women mostly haven't any 
sex-they're clothes racks. Yes, you've found the way. Bungholing! Gives you 
release from the crazy tensions of this crazy business and doesn't show up 
on the figure-like pregnancy. There are other ways, too, for fun and games, 
without getting involved in pregnancy. And I don't mean with the lace cuff 
boys. Since they only like each other, you won't be bothered by them.' 

"He patted my ass and then hoisted himself up, standing over me. 'Yep, kid, 
you got the figure for it. And I think you can take the side issues.' He 
patted my fanny. 'Now don't go 'way. I'll be right back.' 

"Don't go away? I could hardly move, I felt so drained-but good drained. 
Relaxed in one way but awfully keyed up in another. I could hear Wayne 
washing up and I waited, almost drowsily, for him to come back, knowing he 
was going to do something else-something sexy and exciting. 

"Wayne came back, toweling himself and grinning at me, his body gleaming in 
the low moonlight effect. He wasn't good looking, but he had a powerful 
looking body, lean and muscled. Maybe his torso was a little long and his 
legs just a hair short for perfect proportions, but he had a good physique. 
It was kind of odd, because you don't think of a photographer as being 
well-built, and especially one in the 'high fashion' field. 

"He stood beside the bed, near my head, so that I was looking right at his 
pelvis and his prick and balls. His prick still looked big and knotted with 
blue veins, but it was limp, or pretty near. 'Like looking at it, kid? Go 
ahead, grab it. Go on, reach for it!' 

"It was almost like being hypnotized. I mean, I did reach for it, slowly and 
then in a rush, grabbing the shaft. Almost instantly I could feel it start 
to swell and stiffen. 

"With his hands free now-he'd thrown aside the towel-he rolled me on my back 
and hauled me across the bed, toward him, till my head was hanging off the 
edge of the bed and I was looking right up at his cock, my hand wrapped 
around the shaft. And he was looking down my body, almost hungrily. 

"He bent over me, touching his tongue to my tits. I could feel the nipples 
hardening and beginning to ache again. But I was fascinated by his cock, the 
bulb of it swelling and the shaft pulsing in my hand. He moved on down my 
body, sliding his tongue over my navel and setting all my muscles to 
quivering. 

"Then he was down by my pubic mound, moving his tongue and his head, getting 
in a sort of double motion, sliding it along the crease between my legs and 
my pelvis. 

"With my legs hanging off the other side of the bed the skin and muscles of 
stomach were stretched taut and my legs were tightening up. 'Open your 
mouth, kid, if you think you can take it.' 

"I was sure I couldn't, but I wanted to. Everything in me quivered for it. 
And somehow it looked as if it would taste good. Like a big stick of candy. 
There was a big drop of his juice oozing out of the bulb. I reached up with 
my tongue and tasted it. Salty-male salty. 

"Wayne moaned and moved closer, burying his face between my legs and running 
his tongue over the tightened skin of my thighs. And as he moved, the head 
of his prick slid into my mouth. Just barely in. And I could run my tongue 
over that great salty bulb. And smack my lips around it, while new 
excitements and new tensions ran up me, spreading from my cunt where Wayne 
was lightly caressing it with his tongue and then stabbing into it. 

"Suddenly his prick slid deeper into me, going way down my throat, almost 
gagging me. Yet it felt good. Good. Wonderful! I moved my head a little, to 
catch my breath and felt him drive in again, until his balls banged into my 
nose. I had to reach up and hold them-gently-so I could breathe. 

"His bulb and shaft were way down my throat, sliding in and out, massaging 
the inside of my gullet. He pulled it out momentarily, as if he sensed when 
I simply had to breathe, then drove it back again. And again. And again. I 
knew he was getting ready to come. I could feel it in the swelling of his 
shaft. And I was almost screaming with desire, because his tongue was 
teasing my clit and licking the sides of my cunt. Then, suddenly his whole 
mouth closed down on my cunt and he was sucking. 

"And I was sucking at his prick as it slid up and down my throat, swelling, 
pulsing, and then Wayne stopped abruptly, pulled it almost out and then 
drove it back deep into me. At that instant his cock exploded. I didn't 
think I could hold all the come, all those great hot, salty juices pumping 
down my throat. Then I found a means to swallow, taking all. And my little 
cunt was pulsing, too, shooting juices that Wayne lapped up, sucking until I 
felt as if he might suck part of me into him. 

"We both dropped, limp, with Wayne pulling his deflating prick from my mouth 
and collapsing beside me, his prick right by my face. Every now and then I 
reached out with my tongue and scooped up some more of his juices, the last 
oozing drops. Then Wayne was caressing my quivering body and calming it 
down, so that we were soothing each other into a state of quiet relaxation, 
except for occasional happy shudders that ran through me. 

"We tried it once more that night before we reluctantly quit. We'd have to 
be out of the studio, because it was booked for early morning. 

"After that, Wayne taught me many things about asshole fucking. Though Jake 
had really been first, Wayne was the expert, the artist, the past master. As 
he said, he wasn't just being a photographer for my portfolio, he was 
grooming me for other aspects of the profession, the most important being 
sex. 

"He was right. With the portfolio of Wayne's photographs-and they were 
superb-I got some immediate jobs. Not the best, right at first. But Wayne 
helped, suggesting me for certain accounts-and for certain account 
executives who had special tastes. 

"Some of those tastes were highly exotic. Like there was one guy who wanted 
me for asshole fucking and another man for cock sucking. This guy had me sit 
on his prick, ramming it up my asshole, while he sucked off this young man. 
But since it meant that I got a three months contract to work that account 
at a very lush figure, I didn't mind. 

"Nor did I mind the guy who wanted to suck me off while some young man 
reamed his asshole. So long as it wasn't a prick in my cunt, I didn't object 
to anything. The contracts came very nicely then, although I knew some of 
the girls were laying the account executives-straight lays, I mean, with a 
chance of getting pregnant. But they didn't get the really swell contracts. 
Somehow, it seems the guy with the really lush accounts had the most exotic 
tastes in sex. And I got my share of those accounts. And account executives. 
And exotic sex. 

"I'm satisfied.. My face and figure are in all the best magazines. And I've 
got a nice fat bank account. Maybe not all from posing for photographers, 
but it spends just as nicely and buys just as much jewelry and furs-when I 
have to buy them for myself, which isn't often. I guess I could get myself 
set up in a penthouse apartment, with just one lover of some very special 
type who can pay well. But I prefer to be independent. Besides, I get a 
variety of assignments that way. And a variety of assignations. It works 
out. 

"And, in a way, I'm saving my little cunt for the man I marry. I'll still be 
a virgin there. And some guy will get my cherry. And maybe I'll get 
pregnant. But by then it won't matter. I'll be out of 'high fashion' 
photographs by the time I want to get married and get some right-side-up 
fucking. It'll be kind of strange-but I may like it." 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Tina ... Like Sister; Love Brother 

"Wanda and I were best friends all through grammar school and junior high 
and up into high school. I mean, we didn't have any secrets from one 
another-or that's what I thought-and we swapped dresses, which sometimes 
made our moms mad because they never could tell where our clothes were. 

"Not that it made much difference. We lived less than a block apart. Only, 
of course, sometimes it wasn't so easy to remember whose blue sweater with 
white piping it started out to be. Sometimes our moms didn't remember for 
sure. But, like I said, it didn't really make much difference. We shared. 
Even charm bracelets and my most genuine pearl necklace and Wanda's 
imitation diamond ring. 

"Not that we wore that sort of junk right out in public. Maybe to drive-in 
movies and in 'dressing up' in our attics, pretending we were glamorous, 
like movie stars. Both of us had some ratty old furs our moms had thrown 
away that we used to parade around in. That was last year, when we were just 
getting to be fourteen. Now we don't dress up, or at least, not in the same 
ratty way. 

"We still try on each other's clothes, mostly in Wanda's family attic 
because it has a sort of cubbyhole room with an old cot and a chair and 
ottoman in it. It was for when Wanda's family had a maid, only they don't 
anymore. And that's when we try on bikinis. Not real bikinis. Our moms would 
have fits if we bought anything so scandalous. We sort of made them up 
ourselves out of scraps. And some of the scraps were pretty small. 

"I remember putting on one that was made out of a couple of old ties. So 
there wasn't much material. One little band just barely covered my pink 
nipples and let part of the pinkish-brown ring show. And I could barely 
cover my mound with the broadest part of the tie-and even that slipped off. 
So I was just about naked. Not that I cared, with just Wanda there. We'd 
seen each other naked plenty of times. Only not so much since we had kind of 
grown up and had boobs and round little asses. 

"I stooped over to pick up the tie that had dropped and my bandeau popped. 
And I really was naked. And Wanda's older brother was there at the door, 
grinning. It wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't sort of liked him. I 
mean, a guy you don't care anything about walks in, so you shoo him out, or 
scream or something. But I couldn't yell at Walter. Besides, he's Wanda's 
brother and belongs there. 

"And those two ties seemed awfully small and getting smaller every time I 
tried to cover up with 'em. Walter stopped grinning and simply nodded. 'Why 
bother, Tina? I've seen it all now. So quit flapping those ties. They're 
distracting.' 

"It's kind of hard being haughty and indignant when you don't have anything 
except a couple of skimpy ties to cover you, but I tried. That's what I 
meant 'em to be, 'distracting.' Only I really did hold 'em still and then, 
with a sigh, just sort of dropped both hands at my side. Like Walter said, 
he'd seen everything, so why bother? 

"He could also see practically everything Wanda had, since she was just 
wearing a skimpy little piece of gauze for a bandeau and some lace panties 
that were pretty old and had more holes than lace. Still, she didn't seem to 
mind. But that was because Walter was her brother, I guess. 

"Walter leaned against the doorjamb and looked me over. I just stood there, 
not knowing quite what to do. Scrambling into my panties and blouse would be 
even more revealing and silly looking. Walter nodded, like he approved of 
what he saw. 'Did you tell her, Wanda? About us? And ask her?' 

"I glanced at Wanda and saw her shake her head. 'Not yet, Walter. I was sort 
of working up to it.' 

"I drew a deep breath and then let it out quick when I realized how it made 
my little boobies stick out. Especially since my nipples were getting hot 
just from Walt looking at them. And so was my little cunt. 

"It's funny what just having a boy look at you naked can do to you, inside. 
Like it was making my breath awfully short, especially when I happened to 
look at Walter and could see his pants bulging where I knew his pecker was. 
The bulge looked awful big, as if his pecker was all swollen and pushing 
out. And it made me all hot and embarrassed just thinking about it. 

"I looked back quick at Wanda. 'Tell me what? I mean, you just said you 
hadn't got around to it. So what is it?' 

"Wanda sort of fiddled with her panties and looked uncomfortable. Somehow 
she snapped what little elastic there was and the lace just came apart, 
leaving her naked except for the bandeau. She twisted one hand in that and 
looked at my feet. 'Walt likes you. He wants to screw you.' She turned to 
Walt and her bandeau snapped, leaving us both naked as jaybirds and Walt 
looking at us, first one, then the other. She pouted at Walt. 'There. I 
asked her.' 

"Walt nodded. 'Yeah, but you didn't tell her about us.' He winked at me. 
'Wanda and I screw.' 

"Wanda glanced at me and shrugged. 'Not really screw. Not like maybe getting 
caught, you know-and having a baby.' 

"Walt nodded. 'Yeah, we got a very special way. Guaranteed, no babies.' He 
looked me over pretty carefully. 

"That made me flush hot all over. And the very idea of screwing! I couldn't 
think of it. Well, think of it, yes. I guess every girl thinks about it, 
once she's figured out what her parts are for, and that the boys have a 
special kind of part that fits. Only, it's just kind of daydreaming, about 
getting screwed and how exciting it is and all. Mostly with movie stars. 

"And all the time Wanda had been doing it. And I thought we hadn't any 
secrets from each other! I guess I looked sort of reproachful, though that's 
kind of hard to do when you're standing naked in front of a boy and blushing 
hot all over. At least it felt like I was blushing all over. 

"Especially when Walt walked into the room and stood right next to me. 
'You're cute, Tina. You've got cute little titties.' He reached out and put 
his hand on one, so that I gasped. Only I didn't back away. Sort of 
hypnotized, I guess. Anyway, his hand on my booby felt warm and good. And 
when he moved it just a little, so's to rub my nipple, I almost fainted, it 
made everything so tight inside me. 

"Walt pulled me toward him, my back up against his stomach, and played with 
my boobies and slid his hands down my sides and alongside my hips. It made 
me so weak I leaned against him and kind of choked on my own breath, because 
I suddenly could feel the lump of his pecker pushing at my butt. The 
roughness of cloth seemed to get me more excited, so that I scarcely was 
aware that he was moving his hands over my mound and touching my slit. 

"Then I was very much aware, because his finger slipped into my slit, 
shooting excitement far up my belly. I had never had a boy touch me there. 
Or even close, though a couple of times boys had tried to feel me up. I had 
always stopped them by the time they were playing along the insides of my 
thighs, which was plenty exciting, but nothing like this. 

"It made me seem to melt, almost from my own heat. And I knew Walt had 
dropped his pants. I don't think he had on any underpants because his prick 
just jumped at me, sliding along the crack between the cheeks of my butt. He 
moved a little, stabbing it down between my legs, and I wriggled and 
shuffled my feet so as to spread my legs. 

"His prick slid in, along the crack of my ass, and came out in front, down 
by my little mound and slit. His fingers were spreading the lips of my 
slit-then, suddenly, they were spreading themselves and oozing juices. I 
could look down and see how wet I was and how I was getting his cock wet. 

"I began to get scared, then, because I knew if his prick went into my slit, 
I could have a baby. 'Please! Please don't put it in me. I'm scared.' I 
tried to pull away but he held on to me, cupping his hands around my 
boobies. 

"Walt breathed on my neck arid slid his tongue from my ear down alongside my 
throat. It almost choked me with all the stirring up going on inside. 'I'm 
not going in your cunt, Tina. I wouldn't do that to you. But I'm going to 
slide it up your asshole.' 

"Walt drew back then, so that his prick was right up against my asshole, 
between the cheeks of my bum, and pushing. 'I think we're wet enough, kid, 
so I won't hurt you. But if you want vaseline, we've got some.' 

"By then I didn't want anything but to feel his prick stab into me, to feel 
real fucking. Especially when Wanda grinned at me. 'You'll love it, Tina. 
And it won't hurt. And it won't give you a baby. It can't. Now, bend over. 
Brace your hands on the couch.' 

"I did like she said, bent over and leaned on my hands. Just bending over 
pushed out my butt, hard against Walt's prick, so that it slid inside my 
asshole. Bending down like that I could see between my legs, see his 
cock-head already inside me and his long, pink rod with balls hanging 
beneath. 

"Walt moved up on me, his hands reaching around to cup my boobies and pull 
me back against him. Then I helped. It was so new, so wonderful-and so sort 
of scarey, too. Like when you were a little kid and was doing something you 
knew your parents would spank you for but you did it anyway. 

"I helped by bracing and backing up, feeling his shaft slide slowly up my 
asshole. And I COULD feel it. I hadn't known you could feel way back there 
and so far up. Oh, I'd had enemas when I was younger and I know I felt them, 
but in such a different way. This was excitement and things gripping my 
stomach inside, reaching clear through to my little cunt, making it quiver 
and go tight and spurt juices. 

"I hadn't even known my asshole and cunt were connected-though I should 
have, because I had-well-masturbated a couple of times. And a couple of 
times with Wanda, when we were spending the night together, she had teased 
my asshole with her finger. But that was just tickling the outside. 

"This was happening way far up, farther up than I ever believed anything 
could go, let alone something as big as Walt's pecker. And bringing all 
kinds of excitement and that funny grip of tightness that would let go a 
little and then grip me again. I know my hands were working on the couch, 
squeezing, and my arms were helping me pump back at Walt. 

"Then he let out a funny sort of half-scream and rammed hard against me, 
clutching at my boobies until it seemed he'd pull 'em off. But it was all 
part of the same excitement. 

"Walt let go with a kabooom! and hot juices flooded me, pulsing up my 
asshole and bursting from the head of his pecker. I almost screamed with the 
tenseness and tightness and sudden loosening that shook me. 

"I didn't really know it then, but I had come. I just knew something big had 
happened far up inside me, and my cunt and my asshole were both working. And 
then the wonderful release, as if all my muscles and my insides had all 
quit. 

"I slumped on the cot and slid to my knees, feeling Walt's pecker getting 
limp now and lots smaller, sliding, sliding, sliding out of my asshole. Even 
that was delicious. Then Walt eased down beside me, one arm across my 
shoulders. 'Like it, Tina? Was it good?' 

"Of course it was good. And certainly I liked it. Only suddenly I was 
ashamed. I hadn't ever meant to do anything like that-not till I got 
married. And I'd done it right in front of Wanda. I looked up. 

"Wanda looked kind of strange. Maybe a little tight and tense-while I was so 
relaxed. But she smiled at me. 'I can see you liked it, Tina. Now we can all 
have fun. Together.' 

"We had always had fun together, Wanda and I, dressing up and going to the 
soda shop and flirting a little with boys and going to the movies with a 
double bag of pop corn, and giggling over 'dirty' books that weren't really 
so dirty unless you looked especially for those parts. And even then they 
were sort of sketchy. 

"But this was different. A lot different. I don't think I'd have gone for it 
if I had had time to think. But I felt rushed, like I was on a big roller 
coaster. I was lying on the cot, half draped on the floor, breathing hard 
because of the asshole screwing I had just had. And Walt was beside me, one 
arm draped over me, fondling one of my boobies and getting things all 
stirred up again. 

"Wanda came over and patted me. 'You did beautiful. Just beautiful. And now 
we can play ring-around-a-rosy.' 

"That seemed an awful childish game, especially after what had happened. 
Only the kid game wasn't what she meant. Walt was already letting his hands 
slide down my side and over my butt and then down into the crack of my 
butt-and on to my hot little sex box. His finger played with it, still wet 
from the first time. 

"It startled me so I rolled over, face up, looking at Walt. 'You promised 
you wouldn't. Not in there. Please! You promised!' 

"Walt nodded. "That's right, Tina. And I'm not going in there. This is 
different. But great! Really great! Just wait till you've tried it.' 

"We were both lying on our backs, with my firm little titties sticking 
straight up. I looked down and saw Walt's prick start to quiver, getting 
ready to stand up. Then Walt reached over and squeezed one of my boobies. 
'They're cute, Tina. In fact, you're an awfully cute kid. And you're going 
to learn something. Right now.' 

"Walt leaned over and kissed one of my boobs, teasing the nipple with his 
tongue until it was stiff and getting red again. I tried to push him away 
but I didn't have much strength in my push. So he bore down, nuzzling my 
mounds, first one, then the other, so that I didn't notice he had squirmed 
completely around until he started working his tongue down my stomach, 
crawling along the cot to get down toward my little hot cunt. 

"He ran his tongue along the crease between my legs and my stomach and 
plunged it down into the opening of my slit, still wet with the juices from 
the asshole screwing. I felt my legs opening up even when I wanted to clamp 
them together. But my slit was opening. I could feel the lips swelling and 
folding back, like the pages of a book. Next he worked his tongue around, 
almost reaming my slit, until I wanted to scream with the pain and pleasure 
of it. 

"And his pecker, big again and wet, was almost beside my face. This close up 
it looked enormous, and purplish and quivering. I thought he wanted me to 
play with it and maybe suck it. I had heard people did it that way 
sometimes, only I couldn't make up my mind to reach for it. 

"It didn't matter. Wanda had already reached for it, wiping it off gently 
with a damp cloth and then opening her mouth and practically swallowing it. 
It seemed to go in and in, until his shaft was buried almost to his balls in 
her mouth. I got so fascinated watching this I almost forgot what was 
happening to me, down at my cunt. 

"But that's not something you can forget entirely. Exciting things were 
happening and I was squirming and trying to push my hot little box right up 
into Walt's face, and he was grinding his face into my slit, reaming his 
tongue up my slit and gobbling my goodies. 

"And Wanda was gobbling his, her eyes almost popping with the effort to take 
all that big prick. She kept bobbing her head back and forth, sliding her 
lips along Walt's shaft, and every now and then lapping out with her tongue. 

"Excitement mounted so fast I almost screamed with the need to come-and then 
I did. And Walt must have, too, because Wanda was sitting back, licking at 
his prick, which was going down. With one hand she was sort of milking it 
for everything he had. 

"And that was ring-around-a-rosy-played their way. I was limp with 
exhaustion and so relaxed from released nerves that I almost fell asleep. 

"It was an awfully good feeling, lying there naked, with Walt right beside 
me, even if sort of upside down, and Wanda leaning against the couch, her 
head resting on one of Walt's legs and a silly sort of half-grin on her 
face, which was smeared with Walt's juices. And Walt's mouth and cheeks were 
smeared with mine. 

"We lay like that for a long time, each stirring just enough to get a little 
more comfortable, sighing a little, and maybe wishing it could start all 
over again. Or for something more to happen. 

"Wanda looked up, wiping at her face with a damp cloth. 'And there's more to 
come, Tina. Lots more. Wait till we do a daisy chain.' " 

Tina probably did not realize it, then, but her seduction by Walter had been 
carefully engineered-with Wanda's cooperation. Shock tactics alone probably 
carried Walt's seduction through to a conclusion, even though Tina had been 
psychologically prepared, through mutual masturbation and through the rather 
clumsy device of making bikinis out of very sketchy material. 

The initial introduction of Tina into heterosexual anal coitus was a curious 
admixture of shrewd cunning and childish devices. They succeeded because 
Tina was naively trusting of her "dearest friend," and had been maneuvered 
into a sex situation the nights she and Wanda had "masturbated" 
together-actually they indulged in homosexual sex play. 

Possibly Wanda herself was not aware of how skillful was her maneuvering of 
Tina. It was probably directed by Walter, to whom Wanda had become an anal 
sex slave. Walter seems to have been sexually mature beyond his years and a 
good bit of a practicing psychologist, at least so far as obtaining 
gratification for himself was concerned. 

Tina herself had not sought sex. Of course, at fifteen-going-on-sixteen, she 
had had urges. She was at puberty, when the sex impulse is beginning to get 
intense. She was beginning to feel the need for what Freud calls "the 
hedonistic gratification of the sexual drive." It must also be remembered 
that Tina had just emerged from what Freud calls "the latency period" into 
puberty, when the sex drive is reawakened and may be quite intense, or, as 
later psychiatrists contend, may only seem intense by contrast to the 
"latency period" of Freud's theories (even though many of the new breed of 
psychiatrists do not agree with Freud on the causes of the "latency 
period"). 

The later psychiatric theories, which hold that the newly reawakened sex 
interest after the latency period is only seemingly the most intense, point 
to the general fact that the sex urge, "like good wine," ages well. And that 
"hedonistic gratification of the sexual drive" increases with the years-at 
least up to a point where, because of age, faculties tend to fail in their 
"hedonistic response." 

The main problem, as Guttmacher points out, is not in the intensity or 
seeming intensity of this newly reawakened sex drive but in the lack of 
guidance and strength of maturity. 

Thus Tina was able to be maneuvered into a position where she was, at first, 
a reluctant and then eager sex partner. Her chief concern, as we have seen 
and will see repeated, is with the possibility of pregnancy. This is 
naturally a dominant thought in a young, nubile female. It is particularly a 
major concern of the young, unmarried female, where pregnancy can be a 
social disaster. At that age (puberty) the young girl of middle and 
upper-middle class mores is particularly concerned with her position within 
that social stratum. 

Whatever her biological and emotional drives, the girl at puberty is deeply 
concerned with the mores of her peer group. Many of them allow themselves to 
be persuaded that such a thing as pregnancy won't happen, and are seduced 
(or seduce themselves) into a sex situation that does produce pregnancy. . 

Tina was obviously an intelligent young girl. Her language and her own 
analysis of her situation make that clear. She may have been carefully 
cultivated and deliberately lured into the initial situation of heterosexual 
anal coitus with Walter, but the rest of her rather complex sex life was of 
her own choice, driven by these newly aroused (and momentarily satisfied) 
emotions. 

The very fact that she has consulted someone outside her normal milieu 
indicates that she has belatedly realized that the highly charged and wholly 
artificial sex life she has been living is not the complete answer to her 
sex drives. 

She has been deliberately seeking a means of breaking away from this 
powerful biological urge that has kept her linked with Wanda, Walter, Fred 
and the young "sex cult" group. In her statements, Tina is not yet quite 
ready-as might be expected of a young girl initiated into satisfactory (and 
safe) sex-to make a complete conversion. 

However, she has taken this initial step, just in asking: Is there a way? 
Perhaps she will return for further consultation. It is even possible that 
she will be able to find her own solution, since the dilemma is not 
insoluble. It can be resolved. 

What are Tina's chances of resolving it? Since Tina is intelligent-perhaps 
not brilliant but at least adequately endowed-she may very probably find her 
way back to normal sex and marriage. Possibly later, she will have 
excursions back into fellatio and anal coitus with her husband. 

She has these factors going for her: (1) She was deliberately lured into a 
sex situation (which has undoubtedly now occurred to her) and not compelled 
by an inexorable sex drive. (2) Youth and her own normal desires for 
marriage and family. (3) The upper-middle class mores that still dictate a 
large portion of her actions and thoughts. 

With these factors going for her, and her own willingness to seek help, the 
prognosis is that Tina can and will make adjustments. 

"I didn't find out until lots later that Walt and Wanda had got the names 
sort of mixed up and what they called 'ring-around-a-rosy' was most 
generally called 'a daisy chain' and what they called 'daisy chain' was 
mostly called 'ring-around-a-rosy,' among other things. 

"Walt had got the names out of a book he'd bought at one of these adult art 
book stores where he pretended to be lots older than sixteen and looked it. 
Only, like a kid of sixteen who is more interested in what's happening in 
the pictures than what's printed, he got the names of the games mixed up. 

"Not that it mattered. The games were mixed up enough to suit anybody. Me 
getting sucked off by Walt and Walt by Wanda was just one form. The next one 
got real complicated. 

"But that was a little later. I mean, Walt and Wanda and I bad some real 
fine times up in that attic room. That's when I learned to take Walt's prick 
in my mouth and suck him off while Wanda sucked me off and Walt lapped at 
Wanda's little hot box. That way each of us got two different kinds of sex 
at the same time, sucking and being sucked. 

"I remember the first time Walt suggested I suck him off. I had come up with 
Wanda for some more asshole fucking-maybe our third time or maybe it was the 
fourth. And Walt and I had had a wonderful asshole screw. He had really gone 
deep, bumping my little butt with his pelvis until it was almost like a 
spanking, only lots more fun because Walt's shaft was riding way up my 
asshole. That made the spanking the most enjoyable I'd ever had. At least, 
that's one way to enjoy a spanking: get slapped with a boy's pelvis while 
his prick is reaming out your butt-hole. 

"We were doing it spoon-fashion, with Walt holding on to my boobies and 
working his fingers into them while he reamed me out. Every now and then 
he'd slide his hand over my stomach, which would start new muscles quivering 
and reach down between my legs, slipping his fingers into my slit and 
working them around, teasing my clit enough to make things more exciting. 

"I liked that finger fucking while Walt was reaming my butt because it got 
right down where the excitement is, without actually screwing me down there. 
The screwing was at the other hole. And real deep-type screwing it was, too. 
I could feel his balls banging against my crotch, adding to the excitement 
in my cunt. 

"And way up my ass-tunnel I could feel the head of his prick rubbing and 
ramming. I could feel the movements of his shaft right back down to my 
asshole, which I was using to milk him. That's what he called it-milking. 
And I was getting pretty good. I mean, I learned how to control that muscle 
back there so my asshole worked up and down on his shaft and also sort of 
gobbled on it. 

"All at once Walt jabbed at my cunt so hard I bucked backward, ramming his 
prick still farther up my ass-tunnel. We were off to the races, really 
squirming and humping to get the most out of our comes. 

"After I'd felt his shaft swell and pulse and then the hot spurt of his 
juice far up my tunnel, we both sort of collapsed and lay there, enjoying 
the warmth of the other's body and the delicious release of tense, tight, 
tired muscles-and the subsiding excitement. 

"Finally Walt got up, went off to wash up around his privates, then came 
back to lie down beside me. I was so comfortably sleepy I didn't even 
realize he was upside down to me, with his prick almost in my face. I opened 
my eyes and was startled to see it lying there, sort of half limp and not 
nearly so big but very red looking, flopped across one leg. 

"Walt was playing with my little cunt, which is what made me open my eyes, 
feeling his fingers sliding in and out along my slit. Walt looked up, 
grinning. 'Try it for size. Go on, open your mouth.' Then he waggled his 
prick almost right in my face, sort of pumping it up and letting it subside. 

"I couldn't. But I did reach up and grab his shaft. It hardened almost right 
away in my hand, thrusting toward my mouth. And it felt hot, as if a sort of 
heartbeat was going on right inside it. I squeezed on it and Walt moaned, 
shoving his prick back and forth in my grip, each time pushing it a little 
closer to my mouth. 

"I was almost cross-eyed from looking at it, but I could see the head was 
already beginning to leak juices. I reached out with my tongue and touched 
the spurt of juice. It was salty and kind of sharp tasting-but good. Real 
good. I opened my mouth and his cock-head slid in, filling my whole mouth 
with that wonderfully male salt taste. 

"I had to hold tight to his shaft to keep him from ramming it right on down 
my throat, because I sort of wanted to get used to his prick in my mouth and 
how I'd handle it. And that made Walt more excited. He bucked back and forth 
against my hand, popping his shaft in and out of my mouth, and then, when I 
let go, driving it way down my throat. 

"It was so startling that I snapped my head back and his prick came out. 
Then I looked down and got a big surprise. It wasn't Walt licking at my 
little hot box. It was Wanda. And Walt was lapping at her slit and playing 
with one of her tits, plus one of mine. 

"He stuck his prick back in my mouth and this time I could take it, way deep 
in my throat, except I had to back off every now and then just to breathe. 
Breathing didn't really seem essential right then, though it did become 
necessary once in a while. 

"So much was happening inside me. Walt's prick was sliding and stabbing down 
my throat, oozing juices that I tasted way deep. And at the same time, Wanda 
was opening my slit with her fingers and sliding her tongue over my clit, 
making my whole stomach writhe and churn with the want for a good orgasm. 

"And I had one. It was so exciting and so sort of grab-you-in-the-stomach, 
like things were exploding and blowing you to bits but in a wonderfully 
exciting way. I got so carried away I almost bit Walt's prick as it went 
kerboom! in my throat. I could feel the pulse of his juices pumping down his 
shaft, spreading that good hot, salty taste all through my mouth and throat. 

"It must have happened for Wanda, too, because she sighed and pulled away 
from my cunt for a moment and then sort of languidly licked at the juices 
that were flowing, while Walt was licking at her. I even made a few licks at 
Walt's prick, but I didn't really care because my whole mouth and throat 
were full of the taste of him. I just hung on to his prick with one hand, 
feeling it subside from a big, stiff shaft to a limp little rag, wet with 
his own juices and from my mouth. I would just swallow every now and then, 
getting some more of the taste of his come. 

"So we lay there, happy in all that had happened. If that was a daisy chain, 
I was going to pick a lot of daisies from then on. Only Wanda explained that 
wasn't really a full daisy chain. We'd have one of those in a few days, over 
at Fred's house, because his parents were going away for a long weekend and 
then we could have the basement rumpus room for a chain. 

"It was Friday after school when Wanda and I went to Fred's house. Fred was 
a senior-for the second time around. It wasn't that he was stupid; he just 
wasn't interested in school. He had other things on his mind like girls and 

'daisy chains' and 'ring-around-a-rosy' and such. 

"He was cute, blond where Walt was dark, and maybe not quite as tall as Walt 
who was just about six feet. Fred was maybe within an inch of that. And he 
had a cute quirk of a smile that made him look mischievous. Most of the 
girls in the junior class had a crush on him. And I guess he could have had 
his pick of girls. He probably had. He also had a crazy, mixed-up jalopy, 
which didn't hurt him a bit with the girls. 

"I had never gone out with him; mostly, I think, because I wasn't going to 
chase any boy, especially with every other girl in my class going goops over 
him. I almost said, 'going ape,' but that's out now. 'Goops' is IN. Not that 
anybody really knows what it means except it means 'going goops' over a guy. 

"Going to his house with Wanda and Walt-at Fred's invitation-wasn't chasing 
him. Not really. Though I was kind of excited about having a date with 
him-especially this kind of date when I knew I'd get screwed. In the 
asshole, of course. 

"I had made that clear to Wanda. I just couldn't let a boy, not even Fred, 
put his prick in me and maybe give me a baby. Wanda just sort of chuckled. 
'You won't get screwed in the cunt, Tina. Maybe lots of other places, but 
not in the cunt.' 

"I didn't get much more explanation than that, except that it would be like 
up in Wanda's attic, with Walt, only more exciting. 

"Walt and Fred met us at the side door, the one to the rumpus room. Fred was 
real polite, like he was host at a party, which, I guess, in a sense, he 
was. He even had cokes and cookies ready. 

"We sat around the rumpus room, Wanda and I on a couch and Walt slumped in a 
chair, grinning at us, while Fred served the cokes. He nodded at me. 'Is she 
wise?' Walt nodded. 'Right in the groove, man. Right in the groove. And deep 
in.' 

"Fred looked me over, a little bolder this time, so that I started getting 
hot in my stomach and chest. 'She's always been a real square at school. I 
never even figured she'd be interested.' 

"Walt waved his coke at me. 'She's interested. Except not in the front door. 
She won't go for that. But neither will Wanda.' Walt shrugged. 'If I was a 
girl, maybe I'd feel the same way. At least, this way, it's safe.' 

"Fred turned toward a big stereo. 'Like to dance?' I was sort of tongue-tied 
but I nodded. Then Fred turned the stereo on and came toward me. I was kind 
of surprised at the music. 

It was real square stuff. A waltz. Schmaltzy. Like we had at dancing school 
and the folks had out at the country club. A waltz yet! And from Fred I had 
expected the latest rock or some real moaning soul music. 

"Fred pulled me up into his arms. He was a smooth dancer. I mean, I could 
follow him all right. And then I understood why he preferred a waltz to 
rock. In rock a girl and boy just stand up and wiggle at each other, like 
the frug and some of the later things I don't even know the names of. They 
change from week to week. 

"But in a waltz a guy has his arms around you and his pelvis is right up 
against yours, moving easy and smooth while his hands play up and down your 
back. He could even reach under my arm and feel my boobies. So maybe the 
older generation really had something in this waltz bit. 

"I could feel Fred's pelvis sliding up against mine and then his prick 
stiffening and pushing out his pants, rubbing against my hot pussy while his 
hands went roaming. So I was getting hot down at my crotch and my boobies 
were swelling and my nipples getting hard. And when his hands slid over my 
little butt, pulling me close, it was almost like screwing right out on the 
dance floor, because I could feel his prick pushing right at my cunt. 

"Then we swapped off and I danced with Walt while Wanda danced with Fred. 
Walt was already stiff, bunched way out, and he rammed it at me", rubbing it 
hard against my stomach. Like Fred, he sent his hands roaming. Then he 
unbuttoned my sweater down the back. I wasn't wearing a bra. I didn't really 
need one because my tits are kind of firm and tilted up anyway. So his hands 
could get right to work, teasing my nipples until it made me want to plaster 
myself against him, rubbing hard against his prick. 

"I looked around and Fred already had Wanda's blouse open and was dancing 
with her with his cheek down against one of her tits, probably tonguing her 
nipple. So I let Walt slide my sweater off and I was dancing topless, my 
boobs swinging to the music, while Walt played with one and ran his hand 
over my butt. And then up to the belt of my skirt. 

"I felt his fingers tugging at the catch and then felt it give way, maybe 
busted, for all I knew. And the zipper slid down, real fast. On the next 
whirl of the waltz, I practically stepped out of my skirt, with nothing but 
some very brief panties between me and the world. And those went quick. 

"It was exciting dancing with Walt, feeling the roughness of cloth against 
my skin and the bulge of his prick rubbing my stomach. Then Fred and Walt 
swapped off. 

"Fred was maybe more adept than Walt at kissing my nipples and running his 
hands over my ass and up my sides, so I was burning up by the time he 
whispered, 'Let's go in the next room.' He gave a kind of whinnying laugh. 
'There's a wrestling mat in there. We can wrestle.' 

"Walt was the only boy I had ever let see me naked and do things to me, so I 
was kind of holding back, but Fred danced me over to the door, rubbing his 
swollen prick against my stomach. So for the first time I realized he had 
unzipped his pants and was pushing his prick up tight against my stomach. 

"I went in with him, mostly because by now I wanted him to screw me. Wanted 
it bad. Walt and Wanda came in right behind us, Wanda shucking her clothes 
as she came and Walt stepping out of his pants and stripping off his shirt. 
Fred scrambled out of his right then, too. 

"It was exciting watching those two boys naked at once. Walt was dark and 
kind of slender, but muscled, while Fred was, oh, maybe an inch shorter but 
lots stockier, with a very deep tan all over, the way some blonds can get 
tan. I guess he had his own sunlamp because he was tan even where people who 
wear two-piece bathing suits stay pink. Right around his butt and pecker. 
And his pecker seemed bigger than Walt's. Bigger around, that is, but not 
any longer. 

"I didn't know what to do. I mean, with two people, yes. And I'd seen even a 
third get into the act. But four! Only I didn't have to worry. They had it 
all figured out. I was to lie down, with Fred's prick practically in my 
face, swollen now and quivering, while Walt was lying with his head right by 
my little cunt. Wanda was lying with her head by Walt's prick, her hot pussy 
up where Fred could reach it. 

"And so we started playing. I guess I was the poorest player, because I 
didn't know what was supposed to happen next. Not really. But it all worked 
out. I played with Fred's prick for a while, watching it swell to a big 
purplish stick with a shiny head, while Walt was teasing my boobies with his 
hands and running his tongue along the crease between my leg and my stomach, 
moving right down to my little hot box. 

"Then excitement sort of took over. I went down on Fred's prick, gulping at 
it and taking that big thing in my mouth, then stabbing at it with my head, 
making it slide deep down my throat. And all the time Walt was opening up my 
pussy lips and running his tongue over my clit, lapping at the juices that 
were flowing. 

"We were all writhing and twisting and moving in one big mass of flesh-very 
excited flesh. First one and then the other would come. 

But that didn't seem to stop things. We just kept on playing, sucking at 
each other until I had come at least three times and I knew I had taken at 
least three shots of Fred's hot, spouting juices. Then we all lay back, flat 
out pooped, our faces smeared with each other's come and licking at our own 
chops. And sighing. 

"That was the first. Sometimes we had as many as six, squirming around on 
that old wrestlers' mat. And sometimes, just two of us would get together, 
maybe for a sixty-nine, maybe for asshole screwing. We even built up a sort 
of club of very special members. Not all could make the same date, but we 
usually had enough. We could always count on someone. 

"Like I say, it wasn't a real club. There weren't any posted dates or 
notices, and there weren't any dues. Not real dues. We would each pitch in 
something, just to have a kitty for cokes and cookies and things like that. 
There was even one girl who always wanted milk. Can you imagine that? Going 
up to the garage apartment to get laid or at least sucked off-and wanting 
milk. Gee, she was still a kid. Just a real kid. But cute. 

"She had nice little bubbies. Real pear-shaped ones. Know what I mean? With 
the biggest part right up against her chest and then rounding out with a 
little extra bump, like the top of a pear-and her nipple where the stem 
would be. 

"I got to know them real well, because a couple of times Sara-that was the 
milk kid's name-Sara and I came up to the apartment all hot and bothered for 
a good asshole screwing or a sucking off, and none of the boys showed up. 
Football practice or baseball or something. Or maybe the jalopy of one of 
'em had busted down and they all went over to fix it. Boys are kind of 
clannish that way. When any one of 'em could have come up to the apartment 
and given us girls a real good screwing in the ass. Oh, I admit, some of the 
girls-one or two-didn't mind getting screwed right in the pussy, but they 
took an awful chance of getting a baby. 

"In fact, I sort of suspect that Carolyn did get 'caught.' At least, she 
went off awful sudden to visit an aunt in Denver or somewhere-just where was 
kind of vague. And then we heard she was 'too sick to come back right away,' 
and she didn't, for three or four months. And didn't come back to the club 
for maybe six. 

"But I notice she didn't screw the regular way any more after that. Just 
asshole fucking and an awful lot of sucking. She seemed to take out her 
frustrations that way, sucking, better than she did asshole fucking, though 
she'd do either. 

"But what I was really talking about was Sara and her cute little 
pear-shaped bubbies. 

And about the times the boys didn't show up. 

"There we were, the two of us, just waiting, with our juices all ready to 
run and our tongues practically hanging out for a good screw. It gets you 
like that every now and then. As if you didn't know. I bet you know just 
about everything there is to know about screwing. Oh, I don't mean from 
practice, necessarily, but from listening to up-tight kids like me, pouring 
it all into your shell-pink ears. You must have heard of just about every 
variation there is. And it doesn't shock you? No, I guess not. That's your 
business, isn't it, knowing things and not being shocked by 'em? 

"So I can tell you all this and get it out of my system and maybe be 
'normal' again. Only what's 'normal'? And who do you talk to to get it out 
of your system? 

"Anyway, there we were, Sara and me, with our clothes off, waiting for the 
boys and nobody came. No, that wasn't meant for a pun. Just nobody showed 
up. 

"I got to looking at Sara's cute little titties-they really are cute, 
standing out just as straight, like-well, almost like fingers pointing. And 
suddenly I wanted to taste 'em. Just suck on them and taste them, as if 
they'd taste like pears. Of course, they wouldn't. That was just a kind of 
fancy idea. 

'And I saw Sara looking down at my little ol' cunt and then jerking her eyes 
away, as if she had guilty ideas. So I moved over and lay down on the bed, 
sort of flinging myself around in an 'abandoned' pose-naked, of course. And 
looked at Sara. I could see she was looking at my pussy, sort of hungry, so 
I kind of had it figured. She wanted to suck pussy. 

"Well, I guess at one time or another we had all sucked a pussy, in the 
'round robins' and 'rings-around-a-rosy' but always with a boy somewhere in 
the setup, either asshole screwing or sucking off. So I wasn't so sure. 

"Anyway, I beckoned to Sara and patted the bed beside me. The way she sort 
of started and then kind of scurried over, I knew that was what she'd been 
hoping for but was too shy to ask. Funny, isn't it? She'd suck a cock or let 
herself be fucked or sucked by a boy and was too shy to ask for a suck from 
a girl. 

"So I opened my legs and guided her hand down to my pussy, where I was 
getting pretty hot and didn't care who stuck their tongue in it. I even 
nudged her a little, playing with one of those cute little pear-shaped 
titties. She stayed stiff for a moment, thrusting out her chest and letting 
me play-as if that was what she had come over for. Then, with a kind of 
moan, she bent over and touched her tongue to my belly button, slid it on 
down my stomach and me almost ready to scream-right into my hot little box. 

"I pulled her ass over and she straddled me, with her pussy almost in my 
mouth and her cute little titties hanging down, where I could play with 'em 
and run my tongue up her cunt at the same time. 

"The first thing you know, we were really sucking off-screwing lesbian 
style, I guess you'd call it. And having an exciting orgasm. Just about as 
good as a boy could give. 

"I liked it, but not that much. I mean, if I should get hot and there isn't 
any boy around and there is somebody like Sara, I might go for sucking 
snatch. But it's not really my hang-up. 

"I've enjoyed the various games we play, 'ring-around-a-rosy' and 'daisy 
chain' and 'round robin' and sixty-nine-that's a boy and girl sucking each 
other off-and the asshole screwing. But that's really just fun-and-games. 

"I mean, it doesn't seem like real sex. Know what I mean? Like being screwed 
in the pussy. 

"I've been doing it so many different ways I'm not sure I can do it 
'normal,' but I want to find out. I want to find out when I can have a baby 
legitimately. And-honestly, I wouldn't want to get married as hung up as I 
am. It wouldn't be fair to a guy who expected 'normal' screwing-with maybe 
an occasional variation. And expected babies. Three probably. At least, 
that's what most of 'em say. 'I'd like three kids. Two boys and maybe a 
girl.' 

"It's always 'and maybe a girl'-as if there was still some third kind, or a 
variety. 

"So that's why I'm talking all this out, now. So maybe I'll get an 
understanding of what makes me tick and how I can switch back to 'normal.' 
And be ready to get married and do everything the way it should be 
done-including having three kids. 'Two boys-and maybe a girl.'" 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Anna ... Mind Under Matter 

"I know I ain't so smart, mister. But I'm not stupid. Just a little dull, 
maybe, and I don't always remember so good, though I can remember things Mom 
sends me for at the store. Like even four or five things at once-if she 
repeats them a couple of times, till I get them in my head, like a song. You 
know how a song gets in your head and won't come out? Well, I can recite 
lists Mom sent me to the store for as much as a week ago. And not mix 'em 
up. 

"I remember things Mom told me not to do. I remember them good. Real good. 
Like she told me never to fuck no boys. Well, I never did. Like asshole 
fucking ain't fucking for real. My brother Willie told me that. 'It ain't 
fucking for real, Anna. It's just sorta for fun.' 

"And it was for fun. Ain't never had so much fun in my whole life, gettin' 
bung-holed by Willie-and them others. I sorta forget them. Anyway, they 
didn't mean much. They were just guys from town. Not relatives or nothin'. 
Kru and Willie was relatives. They was my brothers, and still are, 
matter-of-fact. They're real lively. Smart as a whip. 

"What's so smart about a whip, mister? Whips didn't never seem specially 
smart to me. Anyways, that's what you say when a guy is smart. 'Smart as a 
whip.' Kinda silly, ain't it, when you come right down to it. 

"Oh, about me getting fucked. Well, like I say, it wasn't fucking for real. 
Just in the asshole. But a lot of fun. I don't see why they made Willie and 
Kru stop bung-holing me. We wasn't hurting nobody. Just having fun. And I 
couldn't get no babies. I ain't supposed to get babies, on account I ain't 
so bright. I might have kinda stupid babies and that ain't good. Being 
stupid ain't good. I know. 

"Mom says the county is gonna do something to me so I won't never have ho 
babies. Can they? Just like that, fix it so I can't have babies even if I 
get fucked right-side up? Then why do they tell me I can't do no more 
fucking with boys, not even asshole fucking, which ain't for real? And when 
I get fixed so's I can't have babies, they say I can't even take my clothes 
off around boys. It ain't fair. Mom shouldn't'a signed no consent order or 
whatever, saying they could fix me up so I couldn't have no babies and then 
not let me fuck. That ain't right. 'Cause they's plenty of guys would like 
to fuck me, either asshole, which ain't for real, or for real, if I wasn't 
gonna get no babies. 

"What's so wrong with fucking? Lots of people do it. Right at home, too. I 
seen 'em. When? When Willie and me would slip off at night, up to the old 
cabin on the south ridge. We'd just sort of sneak by houses where other 
folks live and peek in, real quiet, mostly to see if the menfolks were in or 
out huntin' where we might run into 'em. That's when we saw folks fucking. 
Either way, for real or maybe asshole fucking. 

"And you'd be s'prised, mister. It wasn't always the right feller fucking 
the right wife. Kinda surprising the things folks'll do, ain't it? Just the 
same, pretty near everybody fucks. And now they say I can't no more, even 
fixed up so I can't have no babies. I wish they'd done it sooner, so maybe 
Willie and Kru and me and them other fellers coulda been fucking for real 
all this time. Not just asshole fucking. 

"How come I started asshole fucking? Why, that's easy. Willie asked me. 
Willie's my brother, like I told ya. How come he asked me? That's a kinda 
stupid question that I'd git called down for. He asked me because he's a man 
and I'm a girl. Or maybe you ain't noticed. Them's boobies-two of 'em. And 
under this skirt I got a little fur pussy-which ain't been touched yet. By a 
pecker, that is. Want to see it? Okay. So you know I'm a girl. So did 
Willie, only he's knowed me longer. 

"Like he knowed I was a girl a long way back, even before I got boobies. He 
seen me often enough. Naked? Sure, naked. How can a girl-or a guy for that 
matter-take a bath with clothes on? And our tub was right out in the 
kitchen, so's to be near the hot water and so's you wouldn't be cold when 
you got out. 

"I seen Willie naked, too. And my other brothers. That's how I knew they was 
brothers. Because they had pee-sticks. You know. It hangs down in front and 
they use it to pee. Only, when it stands up it's a pecker and they use it to 
screw. Oh, you knew? Then why'd you ask? But it is kinda convenient, ain't 
it? 

"When did Willie ask me? On a Saturday night, 'long about May. How old was 
I? Mister, you got the funniest way of asking questions. Whyn't you ask 
right out, how old was I? Fact is, I don't rightly know. I can't say as I 
know how old I am right now. 

(Anna was about fourteen when her brother Willie introduced her to anal 
coitus and eighteen at the time of this interview). 

"It was a mighty perty night. That I remember. And I'd had my regular 
Saturday night bath. So I climbed up in the loft room. That's just above our 
living room. In winter it's warm up there, on account of the fire in the 
living room. 

"Willie dumb up behind me, looking right up my nightie, but I didn't mind, 
on account of he had sat right there in the kitchen whilst I had my bath. 
Anyway, who cares if a brother looks at your ass, specially if he'd been 
seeing it for donkey's years. How long are donkey's years? It's what you say 
when you mean a long time but don't know just how long. 

"When I got into my cot, I only had a sheet on account of it was May and 
pretty warm. And I didn't really use that. Just sorta throwed it back and 
laid down. Willie come up and sat down by my cot and looks at me. 'You ever 
wanta screw, Sis?' I hadn't never really thought about screwing but I sorta 
frowned over it, trying to figure. 'I ain't supposed to screw. 

Mom said so.' 

"Willie kinda sighed. 'I know she said so. What I asked was, did you ever 
want to? Didn't you never sleep with a boy?' 

"I kinda got sore then. 'Willie, you know ain't nary a boy around ever dumb 
up the ladder, much less sleep here. You oughta know. You watch this loft 
like a hawk. Oh, I seen you, sitting down there aiming your eyes up here.' 

"Willie put a hand on my legs and started sliding it up and down, pretending 
he didn't notice it. I noticed it, 'cause for some reason it made me shiver. 
Not a real scary shiver but kinda good. Willie sorta didn't look at his hand 
when it slid up on my little box-I call it that 'cause it just started 
getting fur on it. 

"'Ain't you ever slept with a boy anywheres else?' Willie asked me. 

"I sorta pushed his hand away, only somehow I pushed it down between my 
legs, right into the front of my little fur box. 'Willie, you know I ain't 
never slept anywheres but right up in this loft.' 

"Willie says he don't mean really sleep with a boy, he really meant screw. 
So why don't he say so. I ain't. So I tell him. And by that time he's got 
his other hand on one of my boobies. I don't mind. It feels pretty good, 
really. His hand down on my pussy is getting me real twitchy, so I started 
to wiggle. Somehow that just sort of drives his hand up tighter and I begin 
to feel all hot. Even my tits. And the nipples are standing up real stiff. 

"Willie sort of pinches one of my nipples and then leans over and starts to 
suck on it, just like I might have milk. That makes me start to shake, and 
then Willie says, 'Wouldn't you like to fuck if you could do it so Mom 
wouldn't know?' 

"I'm kinda talking to the top of Willie's head and he's working his tongue 
around my boob and nipple. 'Mom says I can't. I'll get a baby. Like Bossy 
has a calf a little while after the bull fucks her.' 

"Willie looks up. 'But don't she have fun when the bull is fucking her?' And 
I sorta have to admit it looks that way. And all the time I'm getting around 
to feeling like Bossy looks. And Willie has my nightie just about all the 
way off, up around my neck, while he's running his tongue all over my 
stomach, making it sort of tie up in knots, but at the same time feel 
awfully good. 

"Willie slides his tongue down my stomach and right on to my pussy. Then he 
uses both hands and opens up the lips, so his tongue can go in. It sure 
feels good, him running his tongue over my parts and making my little ol' 
hips twitch and jump. But it still ain't fucking. 

That's his tongue in there. It ain't his pecker. So I can't have a baby. 

"My stomach sort of heaves with each time he rams his tongue up inside my 
pussy. But even the heaves feel awful exciting, like there's maybe Christmas 
coming, only more so. Like it's almost perty near right there and you only 
got to open your eyes to see it. 

"Then Willie sort of nudges me over, kinda turning me. And he slips into my 
bed, right alongside me. And he's shed his pants. His little pee-stick is 
standing straight. It's a sure enough pecker, now. I ain't never seen it 
like that and I want to feel it. Willie pulls my hand down on it and I feel 
it, hard and slickery, and jumping. 

"Willie turns me on my side with my ass toward his pee-stick, then he slides 
it up against my bunghole. I tell him, sort of whispering, 'It ain't gonna 
fit.' But he whispers back, 'Sure it will. Only don't yell when it does.' 

"I promise and sort of wait, letting him feel of my boobies and tickle my 
nipples, while things get a little confused. Like my little fur twat has got 
all hot and wet and sticky and is working like it wants a tit to suck. And 
so is my bunghole. But it has something to suck on. Willie's pecker-head 
that's like a big, shiny turnip. 

"Willie squeezes on my boobs and rams his pee-stick right into my bunghole. 
Now that it's got something to suck on, my bunghole really starts working 
and I am whimpering a little. But Willie puts one hand over my mouth and 
says, 'Shhh. Mom'll hear you.' 

"I don't see why that should be so bad. She'd see I wasn't really fucking, 
even if Willie's finger was working up in it, making it hotter and wetter. 
Besides, this isn't fucking for real. Willie hisself said so. 

"Maybe it ain't fucking for real but it comes perty close. I seen them mares 
lifting their tail and swishin' 'em sideways and seen the stallion pawing 
and snorting and throwing his big black shiny pecker into 'em. And this is 
perty near like that. Only it's happening to me, not one of them mares. And 
it's almost perty sure for real, the way I feel inside. 

"Willie's pecker shoves way inside, and he's ramming at me just the way that 
stallion rams our mares. And I'm backing into him and bucking, the way them 
mares do. And I'm having a for-sure-real excitement from it, like everything 
in me is getting wound up so tight something's gotta bust. 

"It does. Everything lets go in me. I can feel hot wetness way up my little 
hot box and up my bunghole. Way far deep in me when Willie lets go. I can 
feel his come riding up his shaft and busting out his big ol' turnip-head. 
It makes me all hot inside and squeezes down on my stomach and my tits. And 
then it lets go, leaving me limp. I just sorta sag. 

"I couldn't kick up my heels and jump around the way them mares do. Not for 
nothing. I just want to lie there, feeling Willie's pecker go down and slip 
outa my bunghole. And it's a pee-stick again, limp and awful little after 
all that asshole fucking. 

"Willie pats me on the shoulder and says, 'You done real good, Anna. Real 
good. It's the best thing you ever done. And done perfect. And when we do it 
next time, I know a better place.' 

"I shake my head. 'No you don't, Willie. Not in my front hole. Mom says ... 
' 

"Willie puts his hand over my mouth. 'Not a better place on you. Just a 
better spot. Know that old cabin up on the south ridge? Well, I got a big 
bed up there. Bigger than mom's bed and real bouncy soft.' 

"I roll over and look at him. 'Willie, where'd you steal a bed?' Only he 
swears he didn't steal it. Just found it, after one of them tourists with a 
bright orange trailer bounced it off near Fallon's Creek. So I tell him I'll 
go look. And he wants to know, right away quick. 'Tomorrow?' So I say, 
'Tomorrow,' and sort of drowse off." 

Anna's case almost defies analysis, in the general terms of psychiatry. Her 
I.Q. is very low, near moron, even though she is able, in spurts, to 
verbalize quite clearly and at very graphic length. Her imagery is generally 
limited to what she has actually seen. She cannot project beyond her actual 
experience. And often cannot remember whole segments of her life. 

In her several sessions, Anna has just about completely reconstructed the 
major episode of her somewhat chaotic career in heterosexual anal coitus, 
her initial seduction. At least, we must assume it is her initial seduction. 
So far as she can recall-and an examination of Willie tends to confirm 
it-the incident occurred substantially as she reported it. (This version is 
a condensation of several very long, rambling accounts, all essentially the 
same.) 

Later events that were crowded into a very short space of time, actual 
events intermingled with fantasizing, such as a wholly imaginary anal 
intercourse with the Archangel Michael, tend to become confused in the 
relating. 

In all probability, Anna had anal coitus with someone named Michael. Among 
her rather astonishingly long list of "patrons" it would be odd if one were 
not named Michael. It is conceivable that this patron wore some shiny 
garment or even a very white linen suit that Anna, in her mental state and 
sexual excitation, trans muted into the shining armor of Saint Michael. 

Or it could have been sheer fantasizing. In Anna's mental state, under the 
provocation of violent sexual reaction, it is not at all un-likely that she 
would hallucinate. 

One rather odd aspect of Anna's accounts of her fornications and fellatio 
experiences is the almost utter blanks she apparently draws when discussing 
the other patrons. Willie and Kru, her brothers, seem very clear and 
substantial figures in her accounts. The others are at best extremely hazy. 
Except, of course, for the hallucinatory figure of Saint Michael. 

This haziness may be explained in part by the possible realization that to 
them her body was being peddled. Anna's rationalizations are by no means 
clear nor can they be said to follow any particular pattern. However, from 
her other remarks and her complete and literal adherence to her mother's 
admonitions about fornication, it is a reasonably safe assumption that Anna 
had some similar stricture against what, in her terminology, would be 
whoring, even though she didn't truly consider anal coitus as sexual 
intercourse. 

Her brothers, Willie and Kru, but particularly Willie, brought these patrons 
to Anna, providing her with a "big, bouncy bed" on which to perform her 
acts. Thus the patrons were acceptable. They were provided by Willie. Or 
Kruger. 

However, Anna does appear to have a block against remembering any of them. 
This is not, it would seem, a traumatic block, brought on by some violent 
action of any one of her patrons. It appears to be a general mental block 
against the status of the men and boys as "not relatives," without having to 
admit, even to herself, that she was serving her patrons for pay-or, in her 
association of ideas, "whoring." 

Anna appears to have compartmentalized her mental activities, perhaps 
because of her own recognition of her limitations. These "not relatives" who 
used her appear to have been segregated into one of her limited mental 
compartments as something not to be recalled. Anna seemingly has no 
recollection of the names of any of them, except for the hallucinatory 
Archangel Michael. 

Anna's mother, a large, competent and sensible woman, is troubled about that 
exception. She suspects that this figure represents someone who had normal 
uterogenital sex with Anna, creating excitements and tensions beyond her 
usual reactions to fellatio and anal coitus. 

Her suspicions are not borne out. Physical examination has demonstrated with 
reasonable certainty that Anna has never performed the sex act in the normal 
uterogenital manner. 

Can Anna be helped by psychiatric treatment? Only to a very limited degree. 
Her I.Q. is far too low for such sustained concentration. Hypnotic 
reorientation might conceivably be some minor help. However, Anna is not 
suffering from any trauma or even a guilt complex. She obeyed her mother's 
instructions to the letter. She responded to an older brother's instructions 
without any apparent trauma or guilt feelings, probably because she believed 
she was also keeping within the bounds of her mother's instruction, which 
did not cover anal coitus (in Anna's estimation, aided by Willie's 
statements). 

Will the State (Anna calls it "county," which represents govern mental 
authority to her) arrange for a hysterectomy? It is doubtful, since her 
health is not imperiled, though Anna may have overheard some discussion of 
the possibility. She will, of course, be confined to some institution for 
her own protection and for such psychiatric care as she can absorb. 

In discussing how to reduce or nullify sexual drive in the neurotic, 
psychotic or mentally disturbed who have excessive sex drive or where 
neurosis or psychosis is due to excessive sex drive, Professor Charles 
Samson Fere says: "Castration in which he includes female castration, 
hysterectomy does not completely annul sexual desire." In fact, as he cites 
in numerous cases, such surgical castration often stimulates sexual 
activities. So it is most un-likely that Anna actually heard plans to remove 
her sex organs. This again may have been pure hallucination, coupled with 
guilt complex in which she fancied she should be thus mutilated as 
punishment. 

We continue now with her narrative: 

"I kinda liked what Willie did, even if it wasn't fucking for real. It sure 
seemed real. And it left me kinda tired out and drawed, as my granny used to 
says. See, mister, I do remember things. Sometimes sudden-like-just like 
that. I remember my granny. She's gone now. Just sort of curled up and died. 
Kinda blew away, Maw said. Like foofaraw dust. 

"That was when paw was still alive and kicking. Only he didn't really kick 
nobody. It was the stallion that kicked him. He died from that kick the 
stallion gave him. 

"Oh, about Willie? Well, he went away that first night with his head poking 
over the rim of the ladder like a moon over South Dead Man Mountain, saying 
in a sort of heavy whisper that I wasn't to say nothing to Mom about being 
screwed in my bunghole. 'Cause it was a little like cheating on regular 
screwing, and Mom wouldn't like me cheating, any more'n she'd like me 
fucking for real in my little pussy and getting a baby or maybe twins like 
my oldest sister did. But that's all right. She's married. And just in time, 
too, Willie said. 

"Only I don't see it like that. She was married wasn't she, when the twins 
came? That's plenty of time. Not like Daisy down the road. She didn't get 
married till little Butsy was near a year old and her paw had caught up with 
Clem who had gone off to the marines, and no denying he was Butsy's paw 
'cause Butsy looked jus' like him. 

"About Willie and me? Oh, yeah. You kinda threw me off for a minute, asking 
about the twins. Oh, you didn't? Well it was maybe a couple of days later. 
Daytime, too. Willie took me up on the south ridge where Hangin' Joe P-used 
to live before he got hanged so many times. That's why they call him 
'Hangin' Joe.' The way I hear it, the lynching party had to hang him three 
times before he'd stay dead. For raping a couple of kids when he was drunk. 
Or maybe it was when he was sober, which wasn't often, the way I hear it. 

"Anyway, Hangin' Joe is long; gone dead, but there's his cabin that nobody 
don't want, like they're afraid maybe hangin' is catchin'. Willie has got it 
fixed up pretty nice, with the big double bed he found off'n the tourist's 
trailer and burlap sacks for curtains and even a pot for making coffee and a 
pan for frying bacon and grits. Like Willie said, the bed is nice and 
bouncy. I am trying it out when Willie pushes at me and I topple over, legs 
waving and my privates showing 'cause I ain't got any panties. 

"Willie smacks me real sharp on my butt and says, 'Don't forget why we come 
here-to do a little bunghole screwing.' 

"Sure. I remember. And I tell him so. Only I don't really feel like we're 
even bunghole fucking right then. I mean, I ain't worked up to it, like 
Willie done that night he started me on it. 

"Willie sorta seen how I felt and started loving me up, running his hand up 
my dress and playing with my boobies and teasing my nipples. I lay very 
still, just letting things happen. They kind of happen faster and nicer that 
way, I found out. Then Willie pulled up my dress, way up around my waist, 
and just leans over, looking at my fur box and kind of drooling. 'It's sure 
gonna taste nice. It sure is.' 

"I put my hand over my box and shake my head. 'You ain't going in there, 
Willie. That's fucking for real. You're just bunghole fucking me. Remember? 
Mom ain't gonna like it if I get a baby.' 

"Willie just kind of nods and pulls my dress up over my tits. It sort of 
hampers me seeing, so I slide out, lying there naked, with my tits pointing 
straight up and my nipples already swelling. I like my tits. I like to play 
with 'em myself sometimes. It gets 'em swelled up and my nipples get tight. 
And I get sort of stirred up inside. But it's not as much fun as when Willie 
plays with 'em. Then they get hard quick and things stir up awful fast. 

"My little pussy is already opening up, letting Willie's fingers walk right 
in, rummaging around in there and getting wet from my oozings. My box is 
getting so wet the ooze runs down the crack of my ass, right on to my 
bunghole. 

"Willie has got out of his overalls and denim shirt by now and is naked as a 
jaybird. Then Willie pulled me over to the side of the big bed and told me 
to kneel on the floor while he knelt right between my legs, sticking the 
head of his pee-stick right up against my bunghole, and working back and 
forth, hanging on to my boobs. Only his pee-stick is now a big pecker with a 
turnip-head. 

"He rubs that a couple of times over my wet pussy, until I tell him he ain't 
supposed to go in there. Mom won't like it. He says he's just wetting his 
pecker so it'll go in my ass easier. And then he does. Go in, I mean. I can 
feel that wet ol' turnip-headed pecker go in and start up my insides like I 
ain't got nothing in the way. 

"He just rams on in. It kinda hurts, only it don't. Know what I mean? No, I 
guess you don't, not being a girl. Well, it's like this. I can feel the hurt 
of his pecker going up me, but it's so stirry and churny inside that I like 
it. 

"And when he rams back and in, back and in, hanging on to my boobs and 
pulling me to him, I can feel the swell of his meat way far up my bunghole, 
sliding and rubbing. And I can feel it way up front, too. Way up my pussy. 
Almost like Willie is really in my pussy. Only I know he ain't, specially 
since he lets go one tit and starts playing around inside my pussy with his 
finger. 

"That makes everything get up real tight, like the time my kid brother, Joe, 
wound up the alarm clock so tight it went 'spang' and busted, and we had to 
get up by sun time till somebody could get down to Harper's General Store 
and get a new one. 

"So I'm all wound up, ready to bust loose and fling things all around the 
room. Or it feels like it. Only I know I won't. People don't throw springs 
and wheels and gears when they get wound up too tight. 

"But I am getting real excited about how far up me Willie is pushing his 
pecker-so far I can just about taste it. And maybe he is ramming it that far 
up. It scares me, so I ask him. Willie just grunts, 'No!' and bangs harder. 
And wiggles his finger inside my pussy. And squeezes down on one of my 
boobs. 

"And then everything lets go inside me. I feel Willie's pecker swell way up, 
pumping stuff far up my bunghole, somewhere up maybe near my belly button. 
Or even higher. And my bunghole is chewing at his pecker like it knows what 
to do without even me telling it. I am dribbling hot ooze outa my hot box 
and wiggling my butt so hard I nearly push Willie off me. 

"He don't care, because he tells me he has shot his wad anyhow. I can feel 
his pecker slipping outa my bunghole, even if I try to hold it. It's gone 
down pretty near to pee-stick size again and ain't much good for bunghole 
fucking or any other kind. Still, Willie is nice to me. He pets me and rubs 
my tits and holds his hand over my little pussy and helps me kinda slow down 
gradual from the big spin I'm in. 

"If bunghole fucking ain't for real, I'm glad I ain't letting any boy get 
into my pussy because that would be for real and so exciting maybe I 
couldn't stand it and really would bust. And I liked being around, specially 
when Willie sort of pets me up and rubs my body and puts his hand between my 
legs like he's protecting my pussy with a lid. Except one finger is tapping 
up inside and getting me stirred up again, like I'd enjoy more bunghole 
fucking, even if it ain't for real. 

"'Long about then the door of the cabin busts in and there is Kruger, my 
next oldest brother, glaring at us. 

"He comes over to the bed, still glaring. 'I figgered this was what you was 
up to, so I foller you. Ain't you 'shamed, Anna, fucking Willie when Mom's 
told you, you ain't suppose to screw?' 

"I sit up. 'Honest, Kru. We ain't fucking fdr real. It's just bunghole 
fucking, like for pretend. You try it, and you'll see it ain't for real.' 

"I can look right at Kruger's overalls, where his pee-stick is and see it is 
bigger than mostly. I point at it. 'Your pee-stick's just about ready for 
it. So...." 

"Kru looks at me and licks his chops and nods. 'Well, when you put it like 
that...." And shrugs outa his overalls. Kru ain't even got a denim shirt on, 
so he's naked all in one motion, with his pee-stick swelled up to real 
pecker size. He grins at Willie and says, 'Move over, big brother, and let 
somebody screw what can screw, bunghole or no.' 

"Willie sort of grumbles but he moves over. 'This here is my bed and I fixed 
up this cabin for special company. And you ain't it.' 

"Kru just grinned then. 'Yeah, for Alma. Only she won't play, so you take on 
Anna. I know what goes on. And I'm moving in. Okay with you, Willie?' 

"Just like I don't have any say in it-and it's my bunghole. At least I make 
sure Kru understands. 'Not in my box, because that's fucking for real and 
Mom won't like it. But if you just go in my bunghole..." 

"Almost before I know it, Kru has me sitting in his lap on the edge of the 
bed, and his pecker, which is just about the same size as Willie's, is 
tapping at my bunghole. Then it's sliding in. He's easier on my bunghole 
than Willie-or maybe Willie sort of loosened things up for him. 

"I like Kru's way. I can watch everything that goes on, even when Kru gets 
his pecker pretty deep in my bunghole. And he likes to suck on my tits, 
which is real exciting even if they ain't any milk in 'em. And I'm going all 
through it again and having a haymow load of fun getting bungholed. 

"Even if it ain't fucking for real, it's perty dern good and I like it. 
Getting it twice by two different boys in one afternoon is plenty fun. I 
don't even mind when Willie, who has quit sulking, says: 'Maybe we can all 
have fun together. Like one of us will suck her off while the other 
bungholes her. Huh?' 

"Kru has just finished shooting his load way up my ass and we're sort of 
resting while his pecker drops back to pee-stick size and slides out. He 
looks at Willie. 'Or maybe she'll suck one of us off while the other 
bungholes her? How's that?' 

"Willie shakes his head. 'She ain't up to sucking yet. Maybe later. She'd 
more'n likely bite it off, getting excited the way she does.' Just like I 
ain't there and don't know what they're talking about. I look at Kru. 'What 
you talking about it?' 

"Kru grins at Willie. 'Maybe we better show her. It's easier to explain that 
way.' 

"So they show me. Or start to. I look up at Willie and shake my finger. 
'This ain't just a trick to get some real fucking in my pussy?' 'Cause it's 
starting to look that way, the way they're setting me up. 

"Being as Willie's pee-stick has got back to pecker size, he decided he 
better be the one to bunghole me. So he tells me for sure we ain't gonna do 
no real fucking in my fur box. I am just to sit down on his pecker, but 
facing away from him, and then lay back on his stomach. 

"I do and Kru is right there, on the opposite side of the bed, already 
starting to play with my boobies and suck at my nipples, whilst Willie is 
playing his hands over my belly and thighs, getting me really worked up. 
Then Kru leans way over, running his tongue down my stomach and right into 
my little pussy. He plays with the lips of my pussy till he's got it wide 
open, then he is running his tongue deep inside, getting me so tight that I 
mighty nigh can't breathe. And all the time Willie is reaming my ass, 
driving his big pecker up and down. 

"Kru's pee-stick is hanging right over my face and I can see it swell up to 
pecker size, getting a big turnip-bulb on the end. And he is pushing his 
tongue hard into my gash and licking at my ooze that's really spouting. And 
I can see juice already starting" to drip from his pecker. 

"I reach for it and pull it to my mouth so I can taste his juice, because it 
smells exciting. And tastes exciting, too. First thing I know I've got it in 
my mouth and Kru is pumping on it to drive it down my throat. At first I 
don't want it, and then, as things get tighter inside and threaten to blow 
off, I'm ready. And let him drive it down my throat, feeling the bulb slide 
in and tasting the thing all the way down, just like I can feel Willie's 
pecker way up my bunghole right now. 

"So I am getting screwed three ways, in my bunghole, in my mouth and down in 
my pussy by Kru's tongue. And none of 'em is for real. So Mom can't really 
mind. 

"I just laid back and enjoyed it. It was fine. And it all comes to a big 
winding excitement that lets go, first Kru into my mouth, where I can really 
taste his juice for sure, and then me letting go down at my pussy while Kru 
gobbles at my ooze, and then Willie exploding his load up in my bunghole. 
Then we all three lay back, just enjoying what's happened and breathing 
heavy, until I fall asleep. 

"When I wake up, I hear Kru say, 'Look, we got a good thing here. This 
cabin. Anna. And all the boys who been watching her grow up with their 
tongues hanging out for a piece of tail. And then there's the tourists, the 
ones that come up here to fish and just lay around knocking back booze and 
playing cards. Some of them would put out nice dough for a piece of what we 
got.' 

"So that gets us started on a sort of regular thing, me slipping off at 
night with either Kru or Willie and sneaking up to the cabin. That's when 
we'd peep in windows and see how other folks fucked, most of 'em the for 
real way, with the guy's pecker in the woman's pussy-hole. Only some of the 
females had a real lot of fur on their box. Not just a kind of fuzz like 
mine. 

"And up at the cabin we'd meet some guys. Sometimes only one, sometimes as 
many as four or five. Once I think it was six. I didn't mind. One or 
several, it was fun, sometimes more fun if there were more. Only sometimes 
I'd get real sleepy if there were a lot of 'em and go drowsing off right 
while they were bunghole fucking. Or sucking me off. 

"It was one of those times that Saint Michael came to screw me. I'd just 
sort of woke up from letting four or five guys do it and there was Saint 
Michael, all shiny and white, with his pecker in his hand, saying he was 
going to bunghole me. I don't know how I knew he was Saint Michael. I don't 
rightly know that he told me. I just knew. And I let him do it to me and 
then I went back to sleep, kinda tired. 

"I get tired easy when several guys screw me in the rear or suck me off or 
have me suck on their peckers. But now that Mom's gonna have the county fix 
me so I can't have babies, maybe I can go back and really screw. You think 
so?" 

CONCLUSION 

In the five cases cited here we find a reasonably full range of causative 
relationships between heterosexual anal coitus and the various elements that 
preconditioned the subjects. 

These elements range from Eloise's rather vague and belated fear of 
pregnancy to the gang-rape of Alice, covering such elements as the near 
frigidity of Rita coupled with her greed for money and glamour, the curious 
seduction of Tina by her friend, Wanda, for the use of Wanda's brother, and 
to the mentally retarded Anna, who could remember one rule her mother laid 
down. 

Except for the use of anal coitus as a variant between normal heterosexual 
lovers from which they may derive immense satisfaction while recognizing it 
as a variant, along with fellatio and other variants, the sole reliance for 
sex gratification on heterosexual anal coitus carries a built-in guilt 
complex often as great or greater than the causative preconditioning. 

In almost every instance, psychiatric treatment is indicated for a complete 
release from the thrall of anal coitus. 

It cannot be made too clear here that there is nothing inherently "wrong" 
with heterosexual anal coitus, although obsession with it, to the exclusion 
of other forms of sex, can be seriously damaging. Just as there is certainly 
nothing "wrong" with eating, yet obsession with eating and the resulting 
overeating can be quite harmful. 

So this book is not a condemnation of heterosexual anal coitus per se. it 
is, however, seriously concerned with anal coitus when it reaches the 
proportions of an obsession. At that point the practitioner should seek aid, 
either from his or her own inner strength or from outside sources, such as 
psychiatry In poor Anna's case, however, even psychiatry cannot help, except 
in a very minor way. Anna does not have the mentality capable of absorbing 
psychiatric treatment. Others are more fortunate and can, if they so 
determine, obtain help for a more balanced and healthful sex life. 


THE END
