HF-227 Violent Sex: Victims Of Rape And Sodomy
By Kenneth Harding


GENERAL INTRODUCTION

The files I am opening in this volume concern a growing trend in modern society. As the sexual freedoms increase for some, the sexual frustrations increase for others. It has been my purpose in life to study and, with luck, to help those men and woman who have found themselves in one way or another victims of the current licentiousness in today's world. The motives and events of those in the following case histories differ, but there is a unifying experience to them that must be considered one of the great problems facing society today. These are people who have been affected strongly by the experience of rape, sometimes forced upon them by psychological coercion, and sometimes by brutal, violent force. The cases may differ greatly, but the effect is distinct and similar in each patient. Each man and women carries with him underlying fears, scars, if you will, of their unique experience. In most cases, without help, they would carry the scars with them for the rest of their lives. Even after my own involvement in the cases, a full "cure" is not always possible.

In this volume you will read the case of Linda, a beautiful high school girl who experienced a brutal assault. To put it bluntly, she was fucked, sodomized, and sexually humiliated, not once, but several times.

And there is Tom, another young student, a handsome youth who is not worldly enough to understand an older woman's designs on him. What might seem an ideal fantasy to some, becomes for Tom a nightmarish experience.

You will also meet in this volume, Debbie, a charming, delicate young beauty who has been deeply affected by an encounter with her own stepfather, and more than that.

CASE HISTORY ONE

SUBJECT: Linda E. AGE: Sixteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Linda is a gorgeous, All-American blonde teenager. It would appear, to objective observers, that she has everything going for her. She is beautiful, and with a beauty that is the type most admired in the world, fair, golden-haired, with a lush figure and a bubbly personality. It would, as I say, seem like the girl is very lucky indeed to anyone observing the exterior, known facts of her life. She is a good student, besides, and a cheerleader for her school's highly successful football team. But something has gone wrong in her charmed life, something that has affected her deeply and brought her to me for help. I don't know how much I can do in such a case. When a patient is mildly disturbed by something, or else terribly traumatized by something, there are certain by-the-book procedures one can follow. But the case of this high school student is different. She is affected by her experience, but refuses to let anyone know about it. Most people would not even know there is anything wrong. It is only close friends and family who suspect that Linda is harboring some terrible secret. I knew this would be a difficult case, for the cause itself was as hard to elicit as the cure would be to find. At last, after some time was spent encouraging her, coaxing her, and building her confidence in me, the girl began to open up.

* * *

You keep asking me, Doctor, what my problem has been. Don't you know by now, hasn't everybody told you? I haven't got any problems. My life is perfect. Oh yeah, sure. Perfect. It couldn't get any better, I guess. Or that's what everybody thinks, anyway. They don't know much, though.

It's true that things were going good for me for a while. My grades were high, almost all A's with a few B's. And I loved the cheerleading. Although I was only a sophomore, I kept hearing the rumor that I was going to be made second captain of the squad. That's a real honor, in case you don't know. I was proud. Maybe I was getting a little full of myself, I don't know about that. It certainly must have shown that I was happy. I was always going through the school with a smile on my face, hurrying somewhere, happy to be alive. Well, a few things happened to wipe that smile off my face, I can tell you.

All right, Doctor, you want me to go with that, do you? Yes, I'll go with it, right to the end, maybe. But you better fasten your seat belt. It's just likely to shock the pants off you, Doctor.

It's hard to know where to begin, so you'll understand everything. Things get kind of linked together. Cause and effect, that sort of thing. As you know, I was a cheerleader. One of the advantages of being a cheerleader is that you tend to get first crack at the boys on the football team. Of course, some of those guys on the football team no girl would touch with a ten-foot pole, but there's a half-dozen or so who are really dreamy. One of them is a quarterback named Steve Denton. He's a year older than me, but he's still a sophomore like me because he failed so many classes last year. He's not very smart. But he's real nice to look at, and besides, all of the girls at school are wild for him, so when it turned out that he was interested in me and wanted to date me, I would have had to be crazy not to take advantage of the chance. After I did start dating him, everybody, not just among the cheerleaders, but at the whole school, starting looking at me with more respect. I became more popular. It seemed real neat the way everything happened because I started seeing Steve. And at first I thought Steve himself was great. He treated me nice, and bought things for me, and was always calling me up. The only thing that was bothering me was the way things seemed to be escalating in the sex department. They were, in fact, nearly out of hand.

Was I a virgin, you want to know? Yes, all right, I was a virgin. Is it such a dirty word these days? I was brought up to believe that that was something you didn't give away just like a handout to any beggar on the street. I didn't really believe I was going to stay a virgin till I got married, I wasn't as old-fashioned as that. I wanted to go to college after high school and get a good education, and so I didn't see myself getting married for a long while yet. But I had decided that I would wait, anyway, at least till I found the boy that I could fall in love with. And I didn't think you fell in love with somebody after a couple of days, either. I liked Steve, as I said. I even started to get a real crush on him, and it might have been the start of love. I can't be sure now. I certainly don't feel anything tender for him now. But back then he was easy to like. He had practiced his charms on a lot of girls, I guess, and had his act down pretty good. But I had a pretty strong will, myself, and I wasn't going to be just swept off my feet after a couple of nice dates.

I was no prude, mind you. I enjoyed kissing, and some petting. But Steve wanted to go right after me the first moment we were in each other's arms. He kissed me and stuck his tongue down my throat, and his hands went to my tits, squeezing at them, catching the nipples between his fingers and tugging on them. I squirmed against him. I made a weak attempt to pull his hands away but quickly gave it up. Actually, I had to admit to myself that his fondling fingers felt good as they moved across my large, firm breasts. He was doing all of this from outside my sweater. But that didn't keep him for long. He soon wanted to go inside it, and I felt him pulling my sweater out of the top of my skirt. And then I trembled as his fingers touched my bare flesh.

"No, Steve, I don't think you should--" I started to tell him.

"Shhh, baby, I know what I'm doing. Shit, I got to feel those tits of yours. They've been driving me wild. Every time I see you walking along with them jumping up and down under your shirt. Shit. And then when you're on the field in that fucking cheerleader's outfit, and you don't wear a bra, Christ, it's almost too much. When you do one of them high jumps in the air, and your tits go bobbing in every direction, I think I'm gonna pass out, baby."

As he was speaking, his hands were sneakily moving up along my belly, and finally grabbed at both my tits. He covered them with his whole hands, squeezing down. I threw my head back and let out a deep sigh.

"Oh, but Steve," I said softly. "You shouldn't, you really shouldn't touch me like that... it's... it's wrong."

I found myself sighing uncontrollably as he rhythmically and erotically massaged my warm, round titties. The nipples were quite hard now. They were very sensitive. Of course I knew that before, and when I would touch them myself, in bed perhaps, I would enjoy the feeling I would get. But this, with Steve's hands running all over me like that, was very different, and far more intense. I was gasping and quivering, and I could feel a tingling sensation in my pussy that was growing and growing the more he touched me. I think that if I hadn't had a lot of willpower I might have let him fuck me right then and there, and damn my old virginity. That's probably just how it happened with a lot of my girlfriends who were distinctly more experienced than I was. But as I say, I did have my willpower, and had made a vow to myself that I was never going to be too "easy" for any boy. So I started squirming, getting control of myself again, and telling Steve that he was going too far. He didn't like that.

"Too far?" he said. "Shit, I'm not going too far. I didn't even start yet, baby. What are you trying to pull here, with all of this blushing virgin act. Christ, you think you're the first cheerleader I ever dated or what? Give a guy a break, willya? I don't like teases, Linda. As a matter of fact, you could say that I hate teases. It wouldn't be very nice for you if that's what you turned out to be, you know, a tease, know what I mean, Linda?"

"N-no, Steve, no, I don't," I said, my voice quivering because he had actually given me a fright with the violent tone of his voice. You would almost have thought he was going to hit me or something. "I'm not trying to be a tease, honest I'm not. I just don't do certain things, that's all."

"Don't do certain things, huh?" he said, laughing sarcastically. "Christ, that would be a first, a cheerleader who doesn't do certain things. Fuck, don't make me laugh, will you, sister. Just remember who you're going out with here. I'm not some four-eyed honors student you think you can tie around your finger, wiggling your ass and wiggling your big tits and then not coming across till you get something you want. That ain't me.

"No, no, you really don't understand, Steve. I'm not playing any games with you. I just have... you know, certain standards, that's all. It's only our first date, after all. There's no reason for you to get all upset. We'll have other dates together, and then, well, who knows what can happen..." I had said it without really thinking about what I was saying. He had alarmed me so that I lost track of what I meant to tell him. I became defensive. I was still riding high on the popularity I had won in snagging Steve, the star quarterback, for this date, and I didn't want to lose him, especially not after the first date. That would be worse for my reputation and popularity than if I had never dated him at all, since all the girls would immediately start joking about it and think I was a loser. So there I went and committed myself to something I didn't really mean. Perhaps at that moment I was a tease, leading him on with a promise I wasn't willing to keep.

Anyway, now that I had given him an explanation that he could understand a little better, and that held in it a promise of delights for the near future, he eased off a little and became thoughtful and calm again.

"Yeah, I see, baby," he said. "I can see your point. You don't want me to think you're cheap, maybe. I can see that. Hey, I can live with it. It sort of makes it something more to look forward to. We can build up to it slowly. Not too slowly, though. I get crazy if I have to go too long, baby. Especially if I'm waiting for a chick who's built like you. Yeah, but I'll give you some time to get to know me better, if that's what you want. Nobody ever said I wasn't a gentleman. Okay, baby, take it easy. We'll go for a drive or something."

I cleared my throat. "Yes," I said. "AH right, Steve. A drive sounds just fine. It's a nice night out." I shifted over a little from him on the front seat of the car there. He started the engine. I was just a little uneasy. He seemed to have forgotten for now what had happened, but my own mind kept going back to the dialogue of a short time before, remembering my words, wondering how he would interpret them, how much I would regret what I had said.

So we drove off. We went for a drive up in the mountains. There was a full moon out. It was quite a romantic scene, and I sat there, thinking that he was going to try something again, at least kiss me. But he didn't do anything. He looked uncomfortable, like he had come somewhere to perform and now he had been told he couldn't and he was frustrated. But he didn't try anything more. In fact, except for a couple of awkward glances, he didn't look at me or say anything to me for the five or so minutes that we sat there. Then he just started up the car again and we drove back to town. He let me off at my house. He stared ahead at the road as I opened the car door. Then I slid across to him and kissed him on the cheek. I smiled at him and he reluctantly smiled back.

"You aren't mad at me, are you, Steve?" I said to him.

"No... ah, shit," he shrugged. "No, I'm not mad. Just as long as it goes like you said. We'll have those other dates to get more familiar on, huh? Yeah, that's okay. Like I said, I'll have something to look forward to."

I gulped. I had hoped that what I had said wouldn't have sunk in with him. That I could later confuse the issue and say that he had misunderstood. But now I knew that was going to be more difficult than I had imagined. He knew exactly what I had said, and he had made his interpretation. It was up to me to correct him, now and there. But I didn't say anything. I let him go on thinking that I would be his all the way on our next date or the one after that.

He drove off, waving to me, and I stood there by the curb for a couple of minutes after, just staring down the street, wondering what I had gotten myself into with a silly slip of the tongue.

When I finally went in, I went straight to my bedroom and undressed. What I did then will probably really surprise you, Doctor. Maybe even shock you. It seems pretty ironic when you consider what a prude I had been when I was out with Steve. Yes, prude. I can say it even if you won't. I was nothing less. I should have let him do what he was doing, kissing me and playing with my tits, and not started arguing and whining. There were so many other ways I could have done it. But an important thing to remember was that it was only my mind that didn't want to go along with him. There was nothing wrong with my body. I was responding to him pretty hotly in the car, with his hands running over my hardened nipples, jiggling the soft, warm flesh of my tits. And that brings me to what I say might shock you. When I got into my room and undressed, I climbed into bed and got under the covers. Alone, in the dark, with no one to know my secrets, I realized how wet and warm my pussy was. I was still excited from my tussle with Steve. I put a finger down in my cunt and it came away with a sticky gloop all over it. And it felt so good. I put the finger there again, pushing it inside, spinning it around and around several times. I shivered. I raised my legs up and closed my thighs against my hand. I pushed two more fingers into my cunt now, deep inside my hot pussy. I sighed in the darkness. I pressed my head back into my pillow and stared at the black of my room and thought about Steve. I wondered what it would be like if he fucked me, what his cock would be like, how it would feel throbbing away in my hand before he stuffed it into my pussy.

My fingers began moving in and out of my cunt, back and forth, pushing deep, then sliding back. Each and every movement made me quiver and shiver and feel sharp waves of pleasure move through me. I sank the fingers in deeper than ever, twirling them around and around, dragging them back and forth through me. I felt a sticky, bubbling spew start to flow down from the depths of my cunt. I worked my fingers in and out, in and out, faster and faster. I started to moan out loud. My parents were downstairs watching television, so I wasn't worried about them hearing me. My moans became louder as my pleasure increased. I found that I was working towards a distinct peak of passion. I made myself work the fingers to a rhythm. I shook all over. The soft meat of my inner thighs quivered wildly. In and out my fingers went, back and forth through the hot cunt. "Mmmmmmmm, that feels so good, so good," I cried out, losing all control of myself now, as I must have done if Steve had kept on trying me for another couple of minutes back in the car. But now I didn't think about lost opportunities, only about the pleasure I was feeling, and the erotic things could relate it to. I thought about Steve's cock, imagining what it must look like, dangling erectly from between his long legs. I could see it throbbing, I could see it sliding at me, moving into my cunt, jamming deep inside, fucking back and forth, making me scream and moan and shiver all over, making me come and come and come. And as I saw myself coming under the violent lunges of Steve's big, throbbing cock, I actually was coming, though the cause was the constant lunging of my fingers, in and out of my hot, drooling cunt.

"Mmmmmmmmm, ohhhhhhhh, that's nice, so nice, ohhhhhhhh, yes, oh yes," I cried out. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! I'm coming! Coming! Ayyyyyyyyyyyy!"

My body shook and shivered and leaped about in the bed like I was possessed by a demon. It went on for the better part of a minute, my fingers moving all the time till my wrist started to cramp. And then, finally, I lay quietly on the bed. I had kicked the sheets down in my passionate writhing, and I now lay atop the bed nude, legs spread, body quivering. I caught my breath gradually. Then I reached down for the sheets and pulled them back up, covering me. I was quite tired now, and feeling very peaceful and relaxed. I knew I would go right to sleep. I closed my eyes. I thought about Steve. It was nice to have a boyfriend, and especially one so handsome and famous. I didn't let my mind think about what I was going to do when he finally made his move with me. It was one thing to masturbate and pretend "to be so free and sexual. It was quite another thing to do it for real when the time came.

I wondered what I would do. Then I stopped wondering, and just closed my eyes and went to sleep, tired and content. If I had had any idea then what I was going to get into I wouldn't have slept a Wink.

Steve and I had another date two days later. Then I couldn't go out with him again till the weekend because my parents said I had to study. There was a big game on Saturday, and I agreed to go out with him later that day. He said we would go to a movie and get something to eat, maybe. I was pleased at first.

Any girl would enjoy the attention, especially from someone as popular as Steve was. But as I stood in line on the field with the other girls, shouting out our cheers for the school, I began to feel some doubts and got more than a little gloomy. I began thinking about our last date. It was quite nice, and Steve had been a' perfect gentleman throughout. But towards the end of the evening, when we were getting ready to go home, he started talking about our next date, on the weekend, and saying how he expected that to be the special one for us. He said he guessed he had waited long enough, and so had I, and that he didn't mind the wait so much but it would sure be good to finally get to it. I tried to pretend I didn't know what he was talking about. I made no comment, so that I could be safe in my supposed ignorance of his meaning. But by leaving it like that I compounded the problem, letting Steve go on thinking what he wanted.

The date came. At first we were all together, the cheerleaders and the football team and girlfriends and boyfriends. It had been a really exciting game, and we won, but only at the very last minute. So everyone was elated, acting crazy and happy as could be. We all got into a group of cars and drove to a place on the outskirts of town. It was a notorious place around town because the owner didn't care how old you were, and almost anybody could get served liquor. I didn't want any, and I ordered a ginger ale, but Steve insisted I not spoil the party, and he had them put some booze in my ginger ale. It was obvious that everybody, especially the team, was intending to get real drunk, Steve included. After a while, he came back over to me where I was sitting with some of the girls. He nodded for me to follow him. I shook my head, laughingly, but he insisted, and grabbed me rather roughly by the arm and pulled me out of the tavern. We went outside to the parking lot where he pulled me to him and started kissing me. His tongue slid down my throat. I could smell the liquor on him and it turned me off. But his hands moving over my body, and his hot tongue sliding in and out of my mouth definitely turned me on. I started kissing him right back, and my own hands found their way to his body, sliding up and down, all over him, reaching down to touch the hard, muscled cheeks of his ass inside his tight bluejeans.

At last he broke away, grabbing my hand and pulling me on with him.

"Where are we going?" I said to him. "It's getting chilly, Steve. Don't you think we should go back inside with the others now?"

"Are you kidding? We're staying out here till we get something over with. It's now or never, baby, so come on. And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. We got this all planned out on our last date."

"No, but Steve," I said, struggling against him as he pulled me through the parking lot. "I don't know what you mean. You may have misunderstood me or something, I don't know, but I think I'd rather go back inside, Steve, if you don't mind that is... Steve... come on, Steve, let me go, won't you?"

"No way. And don't start that teasing shit with me again, sister. I know that you want this just as bad as I do, so come on. You want to be my girlfriend, don't you? Well, don't you?" he asked, twisting my arm behind me.

"Y-yes... but not like this. I mean, I want it to be romantic, Steve. Owww, Steve, come on, let go of my arm, you're hurting me, you're hurting me."

"Ah, shit, knock it off. You think you're as fragile as glass, don't you? But I know there's a real woman inside there, and she's not gonna break in pieces no matter what the hell I do to her, so quit your kidding."

I didn't like the violent tone of his voice, not to mention the brutal way he was treating me. I ground my heels into the asphalt, trying to stop, to keep him from dragging me any further. But he was much stronger than me, and he had no trouble keeping me moving. I didn't want to scream. I still thought I could reason with him, or maybe even trick him, and I guess I figured that if I screamed it would be the end between us and I didn't want that to happen.

We were way over at the edge of the parking lot now. There weren't many cars parked this far back. The woods were all around, and some big trees hung way out so that you couldn't even see the tavern or the road when you were behind them. There was a big van parked there. It was parked sloppily, like the driver hadn't cared where he put it. It was halfway up onto the grass and rocks just beyond the lot. I had seen the van before. It belonged to one or more of the guys on the football team. You often saw it driving around town or in the school parking lot, and it was hard to miss with the psychedelic drawings all over it. He pulled me up to the back door and opened it and pushed me inside. I had stopped struggling, now that we had reached our destination. Now I was nervous and curious at the same time, wondering what he was going to do. There was still daylight, I was thinking, and this wasn't like we were parked out in the woods. Anybody could wander over and see us if he tried anything.

I climbed inside and then quickly turned around as he climbed in after me. He had a strange look on his face. He licked his wet lips and glared at me. I felt a chill go up my spine as I saw his expression. There was no friendliness in it now at all. It scared me. All I saw on his face was blind lust.

"Steve, I... I don't know what you have in mind, but I think that maybe we have to talk about it. You may have misunderstood me. In fact, I can say almost certainly that you did misunderstand me. Yes, um, you see..."

"Shutup, cunt," he whispered. I froze. "Now look, Linda, I think I've taken enough shit from you. I'm not gonna take any more." He was drunk, of course. He had never spoken to me like that before. I trembled. "We made a deal, you know. And now you're gonna go through with it."

"I... I didn't make any deal. You must have made a mistake. I... I'm not that kind of girl, Steve. You don't understand. I can't, I can't do it with you. I understand your feelings, but you have to understand mine..."

"Fucking shutup, will you? I have had it with you, bitch," he said.

He suddenly lunged across the room at me, grabbing me at the chest. He tore my dress open. Then his hands hungrily slid inside to cover and fondle and squeeze my heaving titties. I struggled with him, but he was far too powerful for me. With a few quick moves of his muscular hands he had opened me up from neck to waist. I trembled and moaned, trying to pull away but to no avail.

"Steven, do you see what you've done to me? How could you? How could you? You've torn my dress. How can I go back to the tavern now? I'll have to go home right away, and stay home. You'll have to drive me."

He laughed, shaking his head as if in amazement. "You are too much, baby. But let me clue you in. You're not going anywhere, not until I have fucked your cunt so hard that you'll still be sore next Christmas."

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed. His words were so forceful and obscene that I felt nauseous, a burning, twisting sensation rising up from the pit of my stomach. I couldn't believe he could mean what he said. I mean, he was talking about... rape. I couldn't believe that he would go that far to get what he wanted from me. He would have to listen to reason, I was sure.

But he wasn't going to listen to anything but his own lust. He came at me, grabbed me, moving his hands over my exposed tits. He squeezed the nipples hard, almost tearing them out of me. Then I felt a hand at my waist, grabbing a hold of my tom dress and pulling down. He ripped down till I was standing, trembling in front of him in nothing more than a pair of tight nylon panties, my shredded dress in a pool at my feet. The van had an old mattress covering part of the floor in the back, and he now pushed me in further, till I fell across this. He was on top of me in an instant, grabbing at my panties. I shuddered convulsively as his fingers gripped my panties and pulled them down, and he saw my pussy. My legs kicked at him, but all of my struggling couldn't keep him away. He was over me, and his hands were inside my cunt, pushing in, rooting around, making me quiver as sharp bursts of pleasure shot through my body. I tried to tell myself not to respond, that what he was doing was dirty, was, in fact, rape, and that I could not enjoy it. But that didn't stop my cunt from feeling what it felt as the fingers moved in and out, working up my sticky juices, getting them flowing down over his fingers and making me shiver from the erotic thrill of it. My mind wanted him to stop at once, but my body seemed to be warming up faster and faster. But I couldn't give in to my basic instincts, no matter what, I told myself, and I continued struggling, though still in vain. He finally got his pants down. It's funny to think how I had fantasized so many times about cocks, including his, while I masturbated and imagined that they were sliding through my pussy. But now, as Steve's enormous, throbbing weapon came into view I felt only revulsion. I squirmed and tried to pull away so that the thing would not touch me. But it did touch me. And there was nothing I could do to keep it from me. It felt very hot. That was the first thing I think I responded to, the heat of the prick as it pressed against my squirming loins. And then I felt that it was wet. His jism was drooling out of the tip, sliding down along the shaft, and now wiping into my curly pussy hair. Steve grabbed at my inner thighs and parted them widely. He squirmed and groaned, impassioned, desperate to fuck me. I didn't give an inch, even though my body was crying with desire for him, equally desperate to feel that big cock sliding in and out of my cunt hole.

"AH right, sister," he grunted. "Now you're gonna get a real taste of it, see, the whole fucking thing right up that hot cunt of yours."

He had some trouble, opening me up and then fitting his cock between my pussy lips. I kept squirming and throwing off his aim. But he made it at last, and then, with a violent lunge that made me scream as the pain seared me, he shoved his prick through me. Inch after inch hurtled into my womb. I convulsed, groaned, lifting into the air for a moment. There was an enormous flash of pain when the cock broke my hymen. The membrane burst and I felt an immediate agony that was thankfully replaced by a wave of pine pleasure. I closed my eyes and responded to this, trying to block out from my mind what was really happening. But Steve was too violent and active for me to be able to blot him out. I had to open my eyes and look at him, seeing him squirming and heaving, fucking in and out of me, a weird grin on his face. Saliva dripped from his lips.

"There, baby," he growled. "There, how do you like it, huh? How do you like a big, fat cock stabbing through your fucking pussy? You tell me now, huh? It ain't that bad, is it? You love it, don't you? Yeah, bitch, you love it, and there you were leading me on, teasing me all this time... you fucking bitch, I'll fuck you, and I won't be the only one... mmmmm... uhhhhh!"

He jammed in and out, back and forth, faster and faster, working me up, bringing me to a peak of breathless passion that was almost too much for me to handle. I felt like I was going to shoot right into the sky.

He began to pick up speed now, fucking through me at a truly violent speed. His grunts and groans and moans became more violent too. And he started stretching his head back, shaking it at the roof of the van, howling like a wolf as his passion began to peak. I knew that very shortly he would foul my pussy with his burning seed. I was revolted and elated at the same time. I think a case could be made that I was losing my mind there, a case of temporary insanity as his prick hurtled thro' ;h me and drove me higher and higher.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhh! God,-oh God, I'm gonna come, bitch, I'm gonna come, ahhhh, that's good, so good, yes, yes, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" He fucked harder, faster, in and out. I could feel the way his cock was starting to swell that it was nearly over. My ordeal. But there was no denying my continuing pleasure. I too was nearly ready to go over the brink, hot, pulsing pleasure ripping at me, clawing my nerve endings.

"Oh, ohhhhhhhhhhh!" I finally screamed uncontrollably. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" And his prick jammed deep inside me and exploded. I felt the hot, wet punch of his come inside my cunt. I squirmed. My legs smacked together against him, and he fucked in and out, letting off another burst and another.

"Take it, cunt, take it," he screamed at me in a horrifying tone. His face was contorted with passion. "Take it... ahhhhhhhhh, Jesus!" The come seemed to pour through me for ages. I had no sense of time, in fact, just an endless, whirling sensation like I was flying through space. It was pleasurable, I can't deny that, but all of the pleasure was ruined for me by the underlying feelings of disgust that I felt from being forcibly raped. Just imagine, Doctor, I mean, I was not prepared for sex; of any kind and there it was forced on me in the most disgusting and fiendish manner. Surely you can see why I was shattered by it. And it wasn't the end of it, though. No, not by a long shot. This was only the beginning. As bad as it was, and I couldn't imagine what could happen that would be worse, something much, much worse happened, something that stayed with me each and every night when I'm alone and turn off the lights.


INTERVIEW TWO

It was obvious that with Linda I had an unusual case. Hers was a compounded case. Obviously, she had had an abnormal fear of sexual relations from the start. She was so entirely mixed-up for a variety of reasons, which I concluded were a combination of background and neuroses, that the thought of even a normal, healthy relationship with a boy her own age filled her with disgust, so that when she put herself in a position of leading on, or teasing if you will, the boy she was dating, she bore the consequences. The boy could hardly be called innocent in this matter, but one can clearly see his point of view. I was anxious, though, to hear what more could have happened to the girl beyond this crucial event. She began our second session from where she had left off.

* * *

You thought that was pretty good, right, Doctor? Pretty juicy stuff I told you about there. That bastard Steve, raping me like that. I was helpless under his animal force. He stripped me, tore all my clothes off, and then exposed himself in front of me, and raped me. Raped me. God, I wanted to be sick after he had done it. Sure, part of it felt good, when the cock was really moving around inside me. I admit it. I even had an orgasm from it. It wasn't like I could do anything about the way my body was reacting. But my mind was clear and my mind knew that this was an awful, disgusting thing he had done.

When he had finished filling my pussy with his slimy sperm, and the hot, sticky stuff was drooling down my leg. I was trembling. The sperm was warm inside me, but I felt so disgusted with it there that it chilled me. He pulled away and lay there breathing deeply, grimacing at me.

"You... you bitch," he said in a growled whisper. "Dirty bitch."

"I... I'm a bitch? You filthy creep! You're the one who raped me, are you forgetting that, huh? You're so drunk you lost control of yourself, and you raped me, you raped me! You'll pay for that, you will, you will!"

"I never did nothing like to that to nobody before, Linda," he said. "And that's the truth. I never had to, never! Jesus, every other girl I ever took out practically begged me to fuck them. But you, shit, you just like to tease a guy, strut around wiggling your big tits and that round ass. But when a guy takes you out, shows you a good time, and then wants a little action, you pull that bullshit you pulled with me. Well, shit, I showed you you can't get away with it, didn't I? Ha ha..." He belched and swayed. I thought he was going to pass out the way his eyes rolled around in his head. But then he snorted and moved. I trembled when he moved, afraid that he was going to attack me again. I was lying in a corner of the mattress, all balled up, my feet pulled against my chest. I didn't try putting my torn clothes back on. I felt too disgusted and dirty. All I wanted was a bath, and that wasn't a very practical wish. But he didn't attack me. He just lurched out of the back of the van. He straightened up and stared at me. Then he laughed.

"Wait till I tell everybody back at the bar about this one," he said, and then laughed some more. He stepped back, stumbling, talking, muttering to himself. He stopped once again and stared at me, and I trembled.

Then he went on around the hanging tree and but of my sight. I closed my eyes and shuddered. I don't think I did anything for the next couple of minutes. I just lay there in a ball in the back of the van, trying to blank my mind to what had happened to me. My heart finally stopped beating at twice its normal speed. I heaved a few deep sighs and slowly straightened my legs out. They were cramped from the way I had tensely held them against me. I spent another minute massaging them, and then I moved around, sorting through my clothes, checking where he had ripped them. I kept cursing him under my breath, muttering about how I was going to get even with him for what he had done, get him thrown in jail.

I guess I was so preoccupied with my thoughts of revenge that I didn't notice them coming. With that big tree in the way you wouldn't have seen them till they were only a few yards from the car, anyway, but I didn't look up and notice till they were right next to it. And then I saw them, the group of drunken faces, the hulking bodies, converging on the van. I saw their faces, one after the other, all with evil smiles on their lips, drool running down their chins. They were like animals, a pack of wolves, or a band of mad gorillas. It was the football team. I didn't know if it was the whole team, or if there were some there who weren't on the team. I was too shocked to gather such details. All I knew was that there were some familiar faces there, including "Killer" Nitwitski, our star tackle. He was the first one to come inside. He threw back the door and climbed up, his huge frame filling the wide doorway. He smacked his lips as he stared down at me. His dark eyes seemed to light up. The rest of him was lit up too. He drooled and shook his head back to the rest of the converging crowd. He laughed obscenely.

"Yeah, he was right, she's here, all right, pretty as a picture, not a stitch on her, can you believe it? Just lying there, on the mattress yet, waiting for us guys? Ain't that rich, fellas. A real generous cunt, this one."

I was too frozen with fear to scream. I stared at him with a sense of disbelief. This couldn't be happening. The worst had already happened to me. There couldn't be more for me to withstand. I wouldn't be able to. I would crack. I knew it. My mind stopped calculating. It couldn't deal with what I knew was about to happen to me. It went beyond the wildest, nightmarish fantasy I could ever imagine.

The Killer was inside the van. The vehicle tipped and swayed like a small boat when he climbed in, his weight shifting it. Several others in the group behind him immediately followed him inside. I felt ready to faint. I had held my breath instinctively and must have turned a ripe shade of blue by now.

I was watching the others climbing in, taking my eyes off the Killer at just the wrong moment, as he reached out for me. He grabbed me by the neck. His hands were so powerful that I seemed to be lifted right into the air by his grip around my throat. I choked and coughed. This seemed to snap me back to life, and now I struggled. But, of course, if I couldn't get away from Steve, I was hardly likely to get away from someone like Nitwitski and the rest of the goons now attacking me. They quickly gathered around, stuffing the back of the van. I could smell their drunken breath all around me. They formed a circle around me and the Killer. He was on top of me, his hands moving along my trembling body, reaching my pussy and sliding his fingers into it. I groaned loudly. He was hardly subtle. He jammed the fingers in tight. My body erupted in a spasm of pain. He pushed the fingers in like they were knives stabbing for the depths of my body... I convulsed and groaned. Everyone standing around, watching this, were so moved by my pain that they broke into gales of laughter. There were all sorts of obscene shouts of encouragement.

"Go get her, Killer, yeah, that's it, jam those fat fingers up her twat... but make sure you can pull them out again, huh?"

"Yeah, and watch her, she's a tiger. She might break them right off on you, man, and you got that big game next week, remember."

"Shutup, you guys. Shit," Killer said, "this fucking cunt fits me like a glove. And its hot, man, red hot. This chick wants it, all right. Old fucking Steve just couldn't give her enough. I told you that guy ain't much."

Everyone laughed fiendishly, and shouted more of the same, urging him on. One guy shouted that he should stop playing with his fingers and shove his meat into me. The others all agreed with this point.

"Yeah, man, get that killer cock out and stick it in her. We want to see some action, not just you twiddling your fucking thumbs!"

"All right, all right," Killer said. "I was just checking her out, seeing if she's big enough for me, ha ha... didn't want to hurt the little lady."

"Yeah, that's a good one, didn't want to hurt her, ha ha. Wait till she feels that monster fucking cock of yours inside her pussy, man."

"Yeah, Killer. I've seen chicks start to choke to death when you rammed it up their cunt and they felt it in their fucking mouth." Every one of the ugly, awful men laughed their heads off at that. I, meanwhile, whimpered and shook, vainly trying to throw the man off. I had no hope of succeeding, but I thought it was important that I show that I wasn't giving in to him. I would never do that. They could do what they wanted to my body but I would not give them my soul, or my mind. I did get one chance for a good shot at him. As it turned out I shouldn't have taken it, though. It probably only made my attacker more angry at me. What I did was kick him when he was getting into position over me. I wanted to kick him right in the balls, where he would feel it, and maybe even permanently damage him. He didn't deserve less than that. But my shot was off and I only managed to hit him on his inner thigh. The others saw what I was trying and they made mock gasps of surprise and dismay.

"Jesus, you better watch out for that wildcat, Killer," somebody shouted at him. "She's liable to kick that cock of yours right into space."

"Not yet. She's only kidding," Nitwitski said. "I know what she really wants. She wouldn't do anything to me until she gets a feel of my hot cock sliding through her cunt. Yeah, look at her whimper. She'll be begging me for it in another few seconds if I don't let her have it. Ha, but I'm not gonna disappoint her. Shit, no. I'll give her just what the cunt wants..."

Pie had fumbled with his jeans and now had them down at his knees. He was drunk, and his movements were not all that coordinated. But he also knew exactly what he was going to do. Drunk or not, he had no trouble in keeping his prick hard. It throbbed wildly. And the group of them had not been joking when they spoke of how big it was. It made Steve's rather large, throbbing prick look like a finger by comparison. I shuddered as I stared at it. God, I thought, is he really going to stick that thing into me? It seemed just too large to consider. I would have to burst if he tried filling my tender pussy with all of that throbbing flesh.

But he did try. And he succeeded, though it was hardly without any pain on my part. He hovered over me. It was like a truck I was lying beneath. I was sure he could crush me, kill me, if he just let his bulk slam down upon my trembling form. It was only his cock he slammed down, though. He grabbed my legs up, spreading my pussy wide. I lay there like that, completely open to him, and exposed to the leering gaze of all those animals stuffed into the van. Their hot, heaving breaths made the place as hot as an oven, and a stinking oven at that. They said various rude things as they glimpse my open pussy again. Then all of their shouts converged on the main theme of telling Killer to fuck me.

He laughed and turned his prick in against my pussy. I convulsed as the big, fat, wet head of the prick rubbed up and down over my cunt lips. I couldn't keep my body from gyrating, heaving up at him as the big prick hovered outside the gates of my wet, warm they glimpsed my open pussy again. Then all of the moment I sensed he was going to fuck me. He groaned. The prick shot inside me, deep inside. I felt a sharp pain as the thick meat stabbed me. I felt like he was tearing my flesh, ripping me as he fucked inside me. But when he had jammed the whole long pole inside my cunt the pressure suddenly relented, and the pain became a rising pleasure. I hate to admit it, Doctor. You don't know how much. That's a good part of why I live that humiliation every day. A rape is one thing, isn't it? But to have enjoyed it, well, that's something else again. And I did enjoy it. Despite the horrid circumstances, despite the fact that all of those drunken men were standing around staring down at me, despite it all, I was enjoying the feel of that enormous, throbbing prick inside ,my hot, heaving pussy. God, yes, I was. It was almost too much pleasure, and it had only just begun.

He worked his prick around and around inside me. He held it at the very back of my cunt for the longest time, unrelenting, letting the pressure build up inside me till I thought I would burst from it. As it was, I had to bite down hard into my lip to keep from screaming out loud. That was all that I would need, I thought. To have these awful goons think that I had enjoyed it. Already I could imagine the reputation I would have as rumors of this little party began to circulate around the school and town. The boys would tell it there way, of course. To them it wouldn't be a disgusting forced rape, it would be a little party, and I was their willing surprise guest, ready to take them all on in the back of a van. After all, they would say, if there were questions asked, or protests lodged, wasn't she just lying there on the mattress, waiting for us, with no clothes on? I could just imagine how the story would be changed and developed so that I came out as some incredible whore whose idea of a good time was to be gang-banged. It made my whole life seem so worthless, to have tried for so long to be good, to be moral, while everyone else did whatever pleased them. And then to have it all ruined because of circumstances that were completely out of my control.

The Killer began fucking me in earnest now. He jammed his prick up inside, twirled it around and around, then slid it out to the tip of my pussy. I couldn't control my body. My hips ground and lifted up off the mattress, following the flow of his prick, wanting to feel all the meat inside again.

"Mmmmmmmm, oh, God, God, no," I cried and whimpered, when I really meant, "God, yes, yes!" It was all I could do not to scream at him, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me with that big prick!"

In any case, the crowd watching me get speared by Killer's mammoth prick didn't differentiate. To them it was all a game. They shouted and laughed and sang encouraging words at their pal. From the corners of my popping eyes I saw that several of them had taken their cocks out and were jerking off as they watched me get fucked. Of course, I thought it was disgusting. But it was a fascinating spectacle, and I couldn't keep from looking at them, glancing from their faces, contorted with lust, down to their cocks, throbbing in their steely grip. The thick cock Heads were red, swollen and wet with jism. The sight of them all around me, throbbing and wagged from side to side, increased my excitement, and when I looked back down at Killer's cock piercing in and out of my pussy, it was with a renewed sense of excitement. He fucked faster, faster, in and out, back and forth, heaving his dick through the clasping, spewing lips of my pussy.

"Look at her put out!" somebody shouted. "Jesus, look at her hold that cunt to him. She is hot, baby, this chick is hot!"

"She's burning up, all right, ha ha. And Killer's the one setting fire to her, with that fucking horse cock of his. Ride her, Killer! Ha!"

He poured his prick through me, faster and faster, in and out, digging away at my tender, heaving flesh. The pleasure was incredible. Each time he stroked through me now, digging his cock down hard against me, I felt a flare of hot passion sizzle from my crotch up my spine and straight to my brain, circling around and shooting back for a second explosion in my crotch. I was on fire, burning up, just as they said. And it was now all I could do to keep them from knowing just how much I was enjoying it. That would certainly be the final humiliation, I felt.

Killer was fucking harder. His eyes were closed and his big, sweating head was thrown back. He was taking his time fucking me, which was great for 'him and for me, but not so good for the rest of the team, who were standing around impatiently beating their meat. Some of their good spirits were now turning mean and they began shouting for the Killer to hurry up and finish.

"Come on, asshole," one man said. I glanced up and saw him. His prick was in his hand and it was all red and swollen, dripping come over his fingers. "Christ, man, don't hog the chick. Shoot your wad and move over, let some of the rest of us get a crack at her. I'm gonna come any minute. I want to do it inside this cunt's cunt, know what I mean, man? Hurry it up. Finish!"

Others echoed similar sentiments to his, more violently, perhaps.

"Yeah, shit, come on. If you can't get your rocks off move over and let somebody else have a crack at it, asshole," one guy in the back said.

Another one, hovering just behind my raper, said, "If you don't hurry it up, man, some of us are gonna pull you right out of her, and you can come on the ceiling if you have to."

"Yeah, yeah, that's right, hurry it up, man," other rumbled.

I was sympathizing with the Killer, myself. I didn't want him to do anything differently than he was doing. He was going at a nice, persistent tempo, sliding the cock in and out of me, back and forth, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through me, each wave a little higher than the last, pushing me up, higher and higher. I could tell that if I did eventually come under these sordid circumstances, the orgasm would be far more impressive than the one I experienced with Steve. It couldn't really be otherwise with the difference in size. Steve was big, but the Killer was gigantic, and he didn't really have to do much to send off those sparks of pleasure through me. He didn't have to, I say, and since he was doing plenty, my pleasure was enormous. And it was building, higher and higher on every stroke. I can't really describe what I was feeling. It was all so new to me that every sudden rush of sensation took me by surprise, disoriented me, and left me wondering what exactly was happening to me. It might almost have been some psychedelic drug experience, instead of a natural, human high. It was really wonderful, and that, I suppose was. a good part of why I felt so disgusted with myself. Here was an experience that I knew I could really enjoy, something I could have been doing under the best of circumstances for so many years, and instead I had put it off, fearing it, feeling it was actually disgusting, not beautiful at all, kidding myself that my virginity was somehow sacred, that I was not having sex because I thought it was the right thing to do. And the end result of my prolonged innocence was this evening of nightmares, of violent rape, and the definite promise of more to come.

The Killer growled something obscene at his detractors, telling them not to bother him when he was enjoying himself, but I knew, and most of those looking probably saw, that he now went into high gear to try and finish in a hurry. Although I would have appreciated many minutes more of the slow, methodical fucking he had been doing, with those sudden bursts of speed and violence, the new speed, a sudden blurring in and out motion, gave me an immediate and enormous rush of pleasure. I squirmed. My legs went into the air, kicking down at him, my heels going into the valley of his huge, hairy buttocks. I heard the hoots and barked laughter of the onlookers, but I closed my eyes and blocked them out of my mind as the Killer and I rode to the end of the line. In and out, back and forth his prick stabbed through me, again and again, harder and harder, making me scream.

"Oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! God, oh God, ayyyyyyyyyyyyy! Jesus, your cock, your cock!" I cried out, uncontrollably. "Unnnnnnnnnn!"

"Ha! Christ... uhhhhhhhhh... beautiful cunt, yeah, yeah, take it, that's the way, baby, take that fat cock!" the Killer grunted at me, shooting his prick in and out, in and out, all the way now, not stopping till he had reached his climax. I could feel the power of his come building in his prick, bubbling over, ready to rise up and explode inside me. And I was waiting, shivering, desperate for it to fill me. Yes, Doctor, I wanted it. I wanted to feel his hot come pouring through my cunt, more and more and more of it.

I clung to him with my thighs, gripping him, my body rising up in the air when he would pull back, smashing back down on the mattress when he thrust forward. Again and again. In and out of me. And the crowd gathered closer, some faces bent almost next to mine, holding their breath, watching my face, knowing what I was feeling now. There was no hiding it from them. I glanced all around, sucked in a deep breath and screamed as loud as I could.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt, you bastard! Fuck my hot, hot cunt! Ohhhhhhhhhh! God, yes, yes, yes, fuck me!"

There were cheers and laughs and whistles, but many still just held their breath and watched me, and watched the Killer fucking down into me.

And then the Killer groaned, "Ahhhhhhhhhh! I'm coming, coming, I'm gonna come! Ayyyyyeeeeeeee! Take it, bitch, take my hot, fucking come!"

He ground every inch of his meat into me, then held it there. The cock seemed to swell sideways for a moment, growing as the first thick ball of come shot through it. And then it hit me, exploding like fireworks through the back of my undulating, heaving pussy. Pleasure shot through me, searingly hot, up and down, all through me, making me gasp and cry out and shake into the air. Killer fucked in and out again and again, each stroke letting off another burst of come. He must have kept coming for nearly a minute. Then his huge body collapsed on me. I gasped at the weight of it. I stretched my head around and away from his face, heaving for a breath of air, something that wasn't readily available in that cramped van.

The group of them had become eerily quiet in the last few seconds of their friend's orgasm. But now that he had finished coming, they seemed to breathe a collective sigh and became surly again, urging him to hurry up and move over so that they could take his place.

The Killer raised his head up and glanced around, then looked down at me and sneered. He mashed his drooling, fat lips against my cheek and then kissed me on the mouth. I twisted my face away from him. I might have enjoyed his fuck, but I wasn't going to let him kiss me. It was a strange set of principles, but I was setting them under duress. And now I had to consider what would happen to me next. Even though they had been yelling their threats at me, I had generally ignored the crowd while Killer was fucking me. But now it was time to realize that their threats were not idle, that many of them inside that van did indeed intend to fuck me, one after the other, as quickly as they could get their turn.

The Killer wearily moved off of me now. His buddies didn't wait for him to make any grand exit from the scene of the crime. A dozen hands grabbed at his huge bulk and shifted him away from the mattress. There was something of a scuffle for who would be the next one to have a crack at me. It was finally decided that Jimmy, a tall redheaded, freckle-faced fullback would have the honor. He was one of those who had been jerking himself off while he fucked me, so his cock was sticking out and throbbing wildly. It was big. It was nothing like the Killer's enormous weapon, but it was certainly big and thick and throbbing away. He was more awkward than Killer, less sure of himself. But his prick stayed hard and he grabbed at my cunt, opening the lips with the fingers of one hand while he held himself and guided the prick into me with the other.

"Oh... ohhhhhh," I moaned, as the contact with his prick sparked an immediate flow of sensation. "No, no more... oh God, you animals, animals!"

My protests seemed to put them all in a better frame of mind, and they resumed their joking and obscene shouts. I even heard the Killer call out his best wishes. There was a unified chant. It was like we were back at the football game and the cheerleaders were shouting their encouragement for the players to play a good game. It was all so obscene and degrading.

The redheaded fullback stuffed his prick into me and started shoving it in and out with jerky rhythms. Back and forth, in and out, harder and harder as his pleasure increased. He didn't have to be reminded by his friends to hurry up and finish. He did hurry. A minute's fucking and I felt his come burst against my cunt. My pussy was becoming numb now. He drew back and moved aside. The next man moved over me. He also had his cock out and ready and slid it into my pussy. He fucked me. The crowd became more unruly, and several guys around me started grabbing at me while I was being fucked. They scratched at my tits and slapped my face. And then one moved up and slapped my face with his cock. He slapped it across both cheeks, and then he forced my mouth open and pushed his prick inside. I wanted to bite it off, but I feared the consequences. So I sucked him. And then another, and another began fucking me. And on and on...


CONCLUSION

Linda ended her recounting of these events in a shocking state. She was crying and shaking. I had to physically comfort the poor girl. Hers, I realized, was a problem so deeply-ingrained in her now, that was no question of an easy cure, of some simple answer to the problem. We would have to begin at the beginning, before the spectacular incidents that were the most obvious part of the cause. I suspected that she was still very much in conflict with the morality that she was brought up to respect. The unfortunate incident in the van that evening months before, had been the final catalyst, the catastrophe that brought all the root causes boiling to the surface. If she had simply been the victim of gang rape there were ways of dealing with her. It is not unusual for such victims to harbor deep feelings of disgust about sex for long after. But Linda, as we've seen, has had such feelings long before any of those football players ever laid a hand on her. I have set up meetings with the girl's parents. If they are honest, I feel they may be able to shed some light on their daughter's condition. It will be a painstaking process, but I have strong hopes for success. She is a bright girl, and already understands the error of some of her previous attitudes. It is only unfortunate that she had to learn under such trying circumstances.


CASE HISTORY TWO

SUBJECT: Debbie R. AGE: Fifteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Debbie was one of my patients who showed no trace of her problem in any exterior manner. Any casual observer might have thought she had no problem at all. But in fact this calm exterior hid a deep-seated problem, something that had traumatized her and affected her daily life.

The problem of incest seems to be growing currently. I have certainly found more and more cases of it turning up in my own office. One hesitates to make any blanket judgement as to cause for this particular effect. Perhaps it is a combination of the growing promiscuousness in our society with the functional decline of the nuclear family. When those age-old, fundamental aspects that hold a family together are thrown out the window, trouble enters. It must be quite difficult for any parent of today, with so much emphasis on sex everywhere, to see one's maturing child as something other than an object of lust. I know my own daughter, Henrietta, is shaping up into a beautiful woman and I sometimes find myself forgetting for moments at a time that she is indeed my daughter. But let us hear now of the particular case of Debbie, a lovely girl of fifteen, with a body that has only recently, and voluptuously, begun to change to lush womanhood.

* * *

I never really knew my real Daddy. My mother said he left us a few months after I was born. She wasn't too nice to me when we discussed that subject, because she seemed to think that it was because of me that he left her. She would tell me that he loved her a lot, and he would still have been with her if she hadn't gone and had a daughter. He didn't like that responsibility, she told me. He was the kind of a guy who always like to be free, so naturally he wouldn't want to be saddled with any crying babies. I didn't ask her why he stayed through all the months she was pregnant and then a few months after that before deciding he had to go and have his freedom back. In fact, I found it was better not to say anything at all to her about it. After a while she would forget about the past, and forget her resentment for me and we could be like mother and daughter again. I mean, I do think she-really loved me, but I guess she loved my father too and was caught in the middle about us.

It was for this reason that I was relieved when she found another guy not so long ago. I didn't especially like him personally. Bernie was his name. Sometimes he acted like a creep. But what I'm saying is that I was glad that my mother had found somebody. I didn't want her being lonely and having nobody but me to talk to and say the personal things to. My mother tried to play down their romance at first. She told me he was just a man she dated now and then. But I was clever, even for a kid my age, and I knew that they were going off and sleeping together. My mother suddenly became a woman again. She was always happy and wanting to do things now, and I figured it was because she was now getting fucked regularly. Then Bernie' moved into the house. No one ever told me what he did for a living. My mother had a job she went to in the daytime, but Bernie slept late and then just hung around most of the day. Sometimes he would get a phone call and would go out, picked up in front of the house by some friend in a black limousine. Then he would be gone for a long while, and when my mother would get home and he wasn't there she would mope around the house waiting for him. She was really in love with him, I guess.

One day I asked my mother why they didn't get married. To my surprise, she told me they were married. She didn't prove it or anything, and she didn't act like it was anything out of the ordinary to just tell me like that. She just told me. So Bernie was now my stepfather. I asked my mother if I should keep calling him Bernie, or Uncle Bernie, or if I should start calling him something else.

She said, "I think you should ask him that, dear. It would be a nice show of respect and of friendliness if you asked him, right?"

"Yes, I guess so, Mother," I said. It seemed kind of a silly thing to do. But I was happy for my mother and her happiness, and I told myself I should try my best to get along with Bernie and make him feel like one of the family.

I forgot about it that night, though, and didn't ask him when he got home late. The two of them were so lovey-dovey most of the time I was up that I didn't want to disturb them anyway. But the next evening he was sitting in the living room reading the newspaper and watching television, and I decided I would go and ask him what my mother suggested, being as friendly as I could be.

I went over to the armchair he was sitting in and leaned across one arm of it. I wasn't thinking about anything sexual, of course, so I didn't really notice or care that his hand was resting further back on the arm and that a couple of his fingers were slightly touching my bottom. I was wearing a thin housedress, and nothing underneath. But as I said, I wasn't thinking about that.

When I sat there and smiled at him, he put his newspaper down and gave me his full attention. I warmed up to him now, actually looking forward to talking to him and asking him my question. I guess you could say that I was a little lonely for a father, having gone so long without him. I had my doubts about Uncle Bernie's character, but it was possible he might just make a good stepfather for me.

"Well, well, Debbie, dear, what can I do for you? My, my, you certainly look nice tonight. Did you just take a bath or something?" he asked.

"Yes, I did, Uncle Bernie," I said to him. "How could you tell?"

"Mmm, that fresh-scrubbed look, and that lovely smell of soap on your body... on your lovely, lovely body, Debbie. But then, you always smell nice."

"I do? Gosh, that's nice of you to say to me, Uncle Bernie."

He laughed, and his hand moved up to go around my waist, patting me affectionately. I hardly noticed that he soon slid his fingers down a little further, till they were holding onto not my waist but the right cheek of my ass.

"Think nothing of it, my dear. I say it from the heart, you know."

"Oh, I know you do, I know. Gee, now I can see why Mother likes you so much, Uncle-I mean... well, that was what I wanted to ask you."

"What did you want to ask me, my little peach?" he said, patting me affectionately again, this time even further down on my ass.

"If, now that you and Mom are married, you would like me to keep calling you Uncle Bernie, or just Bernie, or if you wanted me to call you Dad?"

He chuckled. "Well now, that's quite a question. Do you mean you'd be willing to call me Dad, Debbie? That would be quite an honor."

"It would be an honor for me, really, Dad?"

I said, enjoying the feel of the word on my tongue. It was a word I could never remember having used at any time before, and it felt nice.

"Well, that's real nice. You go on and do just that. You call me Dad. And from now on I'll think of you as my own daughter, my own flesh and blood. Does that sound all right to you, Debbie?"

"It sounds fine with me, Dad," I said, and was thrilled. It was almost as if I had found my real father after all these years. In fact, I was so happy that I reached over to him and kissed him on the cheek.

My body rose up off the armrest as I kissed him, and when I leaned back down again his hand had moved underneath me, so that I was sitting on his fingers. Of course I wondered about it, but I didn't say anything or try to move his hand. And then he put his other arm around my back and pulled me to him for another kiss. His hand slid up and down my spine, reaching out along my side till he could feel the edges of my fleshy tits. And the hand on my bottom squeezed at the plump flesh there, sliding back and forth across the twin cheeks.

I suppose I wouldn't be entirely honest if I said that I still gave no thought to the sexual implications of his hands on me. But I was in a good mood, happy with my new Daddy, and not willing to let anything as trivial as the movements of his hands tarnish my high opinion of him. After all, if he was my father then he wouldn't be thinking such things. Fathers didn't have those thoughts about their own daughters, did they? Or so I thought.

J was ready to get up off the chair and go about my business, but he held me there a while longer, moving his hand over my fat bottom, pinching and rubbing the cheeks while he talked and joked with me, distracting me, pretending that he wasn't really even aware of doing anything that was wrong or could be misconstrued as dirty. But he was clever, all right. It was like a magician, a sleight-of-hand artist who keeps you preoccupied with one thing while he does something else behind your back. He did it behind my back, all right, or backside, to be specific, but he did it to my front as well. He would pull me against him, crushing my big, new titties against his chest. He would pretend to be hugging me, and he would wipe my tits back and forth against him. He pulled on me so hard that I finally slid off the armrest and fell into his lap. I squirmed about there, trying to get up, but he held me to him with a hand on my back and one on my ass.

"Where you going, where you going? There's no reason to rush away, dear. Let's sit here and watch television, like a nice father and daughter would. Huh? Isn't that right? I never had a family before, you know. I kind of like this. Here I am a father with a kid that looks and acts as nice as you and I didn't even have to go to all the trouble of bringing you up all these years. Huh? I made out pretty good, didn't I, Debbie?" he said, laughing in a way that was contagious. I forgot about struggling and gave in to his amusement, laughing back at him, nodding my head and giving him a little kiss on the forehead. He laughed louder, bouncing me on his lap, and patting my bottom with his open hand. My tits were still pressed against his chest, and I noticed now for the first time that my nipples had gotten hard as I moved across the firmness of his chest. There was no avoiding the sexual implications here, though I gave it a good try. But in this case, I was covering up something different. It wasn't the implications of the movements of his body now, it was my own. It's hard for me now, as I lie here and tell you all this, Doctor, knowing what was soon to happen, to reconstruct everything, not to give undue weight to something that only has meaning in hindsight. Can I say that my stepfather had turned me on, that I was actually, somewhere deep down inside of me, hoping that something like what happened would happen?

I guess only someone like you, Doctor, can answer that question. But I swear that to the best of my knowledge I was not doing anything to interest him, not putting the make on him in the least little bit. If my mother had come in upon us at that moment, I don't think I would even have moved off of him. It was innocent, after all. That was what I thought. Just an innocent little bit of playfulness between stepfather and stepdaughter. Or just father and daughter, as I was trying to think of it. Father and daughter. It seemed so romantic, so much a dream come true at that moment. I really had all sorts of golden expectations for us. We would do all of the things that fathers and daughters did. What did they do? I didn't even know. It was a whole new world to me. But I was thinking that I would make up for all of the lost possibilities of the many years I had grown up without any man in the house to take care of me, for me to love. Bernie would suddenly fill that bill. If I had been less naively enthusiastic, had not been so excited by what I was looking ahead to, I might have been able to stop what eventually happened. But now I ignored all the clues, his probing hands, and that large lump I felt growing in his lap as I moved my big, luscious bottom back and forth across it. That, I should have been telling myself, was his cock, and it was hard, and old Uncle Bernie, or Dad, or whatever, had a hardon and was excited and desired me. If I had been that honest I feel I could have stopped what happened. But it was more than honesty. I might have been able to detect his secret desires, but could I ever have admitted my own?

I don't think I could. It is still hard for me to say even to you, Doctor, that at that moment, with his hands moving around on my bottom, so close to my purring pussy, and his cock beneath me throbbing away, that I wanted him, desired him sexually. Was I jealous of my mother? Not that I know of. Perhaps somewhere in the back of my mind I resented her newfound happiness, and was rebelling against all those times through the years when she had let out her frustration on me, blamed me for her husband's disappearance. I don't know if any of these reasons has validity. Perhaps it was. just that I was a young girl with just in the first throes of my own sexuality, and here was the first real man I had contact with, intimate contact now. Perhaps it is as innocent as that. Whatever the motives, what happened next was far from innocent.


INTERVIEW TWO

After that there were several other occasions when my stepfather and I had-what would you call them? Run-ins, I guess. I would be in some scanty attire, and he would start talking to me and would call me over. Then I would go onto his lap and he would fondle me just like the first time. But now there was no more pretending that it was in the grip of some emotion. He would just sit there with me in his lap and touch me while he watched the television, or perhaps when he did nothing, except moan and tremble. His cock would grow under me, jabbing up at my ass cheeks. I would feel a warm shiver as' the cock would press at my cunt. There was no denying now that I wanted to feel that cock in deeper, right inside my cunt, pumping away at my pussy. Yes, it's true. By then I had come to realize that was what I wanted, and I guess I jumped at those chances to sit on his lap. At night in bed I would think about him, and masturbate as I thought about, that hard cock digging into my ass.

It might have gone on like that forever, or until I moved out of the house years later. But it didn't. It came to a head one night. One drunken night that I can never forget, not as long as I live.

It was rare that my mother had to go out at night. She had a couple of good girlfriends, but ever since Bernie started living with her she didn't see them much any more. Every moment of her day seemed to be set around him, outside of when she was working. Anyway, the point was, this one night she had to go out. One of her girlfriends was sick. The woman was single and didn't have anybody else to take care of her that night. My mother said she wasn't sure how long she would be gone, that she would try to get back by midnight unless her friend insisted that she stay with her overnight. My stepfather was very understanding. Probably a little too understanding in light of what happened. He probably had in mind something even then, as soon as he realized the possibilities for me and him when my mother was out of the picture for a while.

"Sure, sure," he had told her. "You go ahead, don't worry about us. I'll make sure that Debbie gets to bed early." Well, he certainly did make sure of that, though in a very different sense than my mother understood. "I want you to stay with your friend and take good care of her. Don't worry about us, baby. We can take care of ourselves, understand? When a friend is sick you've got to be there, she'll appreciate it, know what I'm saying?" I know now what he was saying was a lot of bullshit in hopes of getting her out and keeping her out till he had gotten a chance to do what he had wanted to do for so long.

But my mother, as I've said, loved him dearly, and would never have suspected him of anything like what he planned. I wasn't as definite about it myself at the time. I thought he was being very nice. Maybe I harbored a secret desire to be alone with him, but I didn't think about such things in my mother's presence. That, somehow, made it seem twice as dirty.

My mother did eventually leave, giving me a little peck on the cheek, and Bernie a great big kiss. Bernie stood in the doorway, watching her go, staying there till she had driven down the street in her car. Then he came in, closed the door and turned to me. He smiled at me. It was a strange smile, a sexual smile. I think that I blushed. It felt like it, anyway. I stood there awkwardly for a few moments, while he stared at me, and then I moved away. I puttered about in the living room, looking like a fool, I suppose, and then finally wandered away, down the hall. I went to my room and stretched across my bed, lying on my stomach. I thought about my stepfather, all the many evenings now we had teased with each other, me sitting on his lap, his hands caressing me, touching my bottom, touching and fondling my titties, his cock getting hard under me. I felt a delicious thrill in my cunt when I thought about that. God, how many times I had fantasized about that cock going into me, stabbing through my pussy lips. He was downstairs now, I was thinking, down there with that cock of his inside his pants, maybe throbbing away at this moment, eager to feel my hot pussy lips encircling it. I trembled at the thought. My cunt became very wet and sticky as I contemplated those perverse thoughts. What if, I thought, he was thinking about me at this moment too? What if exactly the same sort of thing was going on in his mind as was going on in mine? Maybe his cock was hard and hungry for me even then.

It was just as I was thinking these thoughts that I heard a noise, footsteps in the hall coming towards my room. I trembled some more. I was facing the head of the bed, away from the door, and I stayed there, not turning around. The footsteps came right up to my door and then stopped. I anxiously wondered what he was doing out there, but I kept myself from turning to look and see for myself. The door squeaked as he opened it. Then there was a pause and silence for a few moments more again. I suddenly realized I hadn't been breathing for those last thirty seconds or so, and I slowly, as quietly as I could, let out the breath. A shiver passed through my whole body. I turned my head slowly, looking back over my shoulder and seeing him standing there. My eyes widened as I saw him, for there was something very different about his appearance this particular time. My stepfather was standing there in the doorway of my bedroom in the nude!

Once I saw him I froze, my eyes locked on the incredible, and unexpected spectacle of his nudity. He was not in particularly good shape, though I suppose it was all right for a man his age. But there was one thing about him that was in tip-top condition. It was his cock. It was an enormous, dangling piece of meat, bright red like a lobster. It was not erect, but it was not exactly flaccid, either. It was bobbing about at a kind of half-mast, the huge, mushroom-shaped tip bobbing from side to side and up and down like it was bowing to me. I stared down at it, and for a long moment I couldn't take my eyes off it. Then, at last, I moved my eyes back up his body, up to his smiling face and his wide eyes.

"Hello there, dear," he said softly. "Surprised to see me?"

"Why... why, yes, Dad," I said, even more softly, gulping hard.

I think I was in something like a state of shock. I was functioning in a way, breathing all right, my eyes open, my mind working. But I was not quite able to deal with what I was seeing. It was like something out of a dream. Of course, in many ways it was a very nice, erotic dream, but in other ways it was a shock, a horror. There was my own mother's husband, after all, standing in the doorway of my bedroom in the nude, grinning from ear to ear and waggling his prick at me like it was an innocent toy or something. I was certainly tom between two reactions on this. One was the lust that I had been secretly feeling for quite a while. The other was the definite misgivings I had about doing something to betray my mother. There was no doubt that she would hate me, hate herself, maybe even kill herself, if she found out that even this had happened, let alone what I immediately knew was going to happen in a very short few minutes. I was not in such a state of shock that I couldn't think that clearly. Bernie hadn't come into my room in that costume just to say hello. It was the start of something neither one of us would be able to forget once it had happened.

He stepped into the room then. He slid a hand round to his cock and held it near the base, squeezing it a couple of times, making it swell out more, that big, bobbing head rising up in the air stiffly. I could see now that as big as it was, it had not yet reached full erection. I had fantasized about what a really big cock would look like and feel like, and my stepfather's throbbing dick now lived up completely to my dream image. I only wondered if it would hurt putting all that hard, thick meat into my pussy. Then I thought, into my pussy? My God, what am I thinking? Is that really what's going to happen? After all of the fooling around on his lap, the fantasizing in bed at night, and the rest, we had come to the nitty-gritty. Now I had to actually face the reality of my fantasies. I was going to be fucked by my own stepfather, my mother's beloved husband!

For all my tension and fear, my stepfather was the exact opposite. Except for a slightly strange inclination to grin weirdly, he was as cool as could be, strolling casually around my room now, his big dick waving up and down as he inspected my dresser, my vanity table, glanced inside my closet, and finally walked up beside the bed. I had watched him all the time, until he came beside me on the bed, his cock now just a few inches away from me. Then I jerked my head to the side, nervously turning away from it. It scared me, throbbing like it was, the head stretching towards me. It was like some thick, angry snake that made you shiver and your spine tingle.

"Don't be frightened, baby," he said. "You don't have to look away. It doesn't look that bad, does it? Hm? Does it now?"

I gulped. Slowly, I turned my head to face him-or, more properly, to face his cock. It looked enormous, bigger than ever, now that I was contemplating it head-on, so to speak. I shivered from my head to my toe. I was filled with an erotic sensation that began to steam roll, shaking my whole body. There was an urge in me to reach out for it, grab the throbbing thing and squeeze it in my hand, open my mouth to it, and suck it right down my throat.

"What do you think of that, baby?" he said. "That's the thing you've been feeling against your ass every time you sat down on my lap." I gulped. So there it was out in the open. Neither of us could keep up the pretence that that had all been innocent play between daughter and stepfather. We both knew it for what it was, some very explicit flirting. And now we were here together in my bedroom for the conclusion of that play. I trembled. My mouth was too dry for me to say anything to him. I tried to work up some saliva.

"Jesus, baby, you really don't know how long I've been waiting for this to happen, for the two of us to finally get together, you know? Yeah, sure, you know. You know because you've been waiting for it too, haven't you, Debbie?"

"I... oh God, this is... we shouldn't be... I mean, you and me..."

"Stop acting now, Debbie. This thing is bigger than the both of us, you know?" he said, and then laughed, wagging his cock at my face to show me exactly what big thing he was talking about.

I trembled as I regarded the throbbing pole again. It seemed to get larger with every passing moment. It did something to me, just while I looked at it, and God only knew what it would do when it touched me.

I didn't have to wait long to find out. He bucked his hips out at me and the cock touched my nose, grazing against it. It was only a slight touch, but it was like that fat, warm, swelling prick of his was a live wire that was touching me for an instant, sending a wave of sparking shocks through me. I panted and swayed on the bed, ready to burst now with need for him and his big prick.

"Come on, now, baby, open your mouth and let Daddy's big dick inside," he said, waving the erect member at me, right under my nose.

"No... no, we can't, we shouldn't do this, Dad, Bernie, uh... it's not right, it's not right to... M-mom," I said, tremblingly.

"Forget it. Forget everything, baby. Just think about us. I want you and you want me. Period. That's all that counts right now. Maybe we'll just have this once together, and maybe we can do it on a regular basis. We'll see how things go, all right? But let's get things started, anyway."

I just stared.

He waved the cock once more, this time pressing it against my lips. My mouth trembled. The sperm that was bubbling at the tip of his prick crackled as it touched my moist lips. I opened my mouth, just slightly. He pushed forward a little more. I gagged for a moment, afraid to open my mouth and let him in. But he was persistent, and I was not in full control of my responses. My mouth opened and he shoved his prick inside me.

"Suck it, baby, suck that fat cock now, yeah, yeah, swallow it up, every damned inch of it, go, baby, go, suck it!"

I began gobbling at it. In a blind streak of excitement I ate up inch after inch of the throbbing meat. Suddenly, hardly knowing what I was doing, I had his entire huge prick inside my mouth. The mushroom-shaped tip was throbbing at the back of my throat, tickling my tonsils. I held it there, though. I didn't let up. All of this was pure instinct. But it seemed to be coming to me. I might easily have gagged on the cock, lost all control and bit down into the tender, inflamed flesh. But I didn't. I gave him one incredible, blowjob, sucking my cheeks against the meat, letting him feel the bite of my teeth for a moment.

"Go up and down on it, Debbie," he said, after a minute or so. "Suck it in and out of your mouth, as fast as you can. Go on, baby, go."

I did as he instructed. I moved my mouth up and down, faster and faster. The meat went through my mouth like a blur, back and forth, dripping with come and saliva now. My mouth made gurgling noises as the prick fucked through it. He dripped more and more sperm, another layer with every oral stroke I gave him, it seemed. I was loving it. I could feel a thrill sparking down through my whole body from that up and down motion on his throbbing prick.

"Grab at my balls, too, baby," he said. "Go on, do my balls, grab them and squeeze them in your hand, yeah, go on, do it..."

His voice seemed a million miles away to me as I concentrated on the up and down motion on the cock, but I did understand, somehow, and one of my hands slid up to the dangling, hairy balls, and cupped them. I could feel a deep, convulsive shudder go through him as I picked the balls up in my hand and squeezed them together, twisting them in a half circle till he shivered again and groaned.

"Ohhhhhhhh! Jesus, that's good, that feels good!" he cried out. "Ahhhhhhh! Suck me, suck me! Jesus Christ, suck that prick, baby!" It was hard to believe, especially now, that it. was my stepfather who was yelling those obscene things at me, and it was his cock going down my throat.

I sucked him for a little longer, his enjoyment increasing all the time. Then he seemed to have had enough of that for the time being. When I lifted my mouth up to the tip of the cock, and twisted in a half-circle, he moaned and chucked me under the chin. I glanced up at him and he nodded his head.

"Okay, doll, that's enough of that for now, huh? I want to fuck that pussy of yours. Shit, I haven't even seen it in the flesh yet. Christ, baby, come on, we've wasted enough time. She may not be gone all night, you know."

The veiled reference to my mother and his wife disturbed me for a second, but he was so impatient with lust that I didn't have much time to think about it. I let the cock fall from my lips and dangle about in front of my face. I was really turned on by every aspect of that cock. That feeling was stronger by far than any remaining hesitation I had that I shouldn't be doing this with my stepfather. Of course I still loved my mother and had concern for her, but right now she was just my equal, just a competitor for the sexual attentions of this man, and I had the upper hand at the moment, and meant to see it through to the end of the line. I had stopped thinking about consequences and implications.

"Get your clothes off, Debbie. Let's get a good look at that body I've been dreaming about for so many nights. Come on, I want to see if those big tits are for real. They can't be as big as they feel, can they?"

"I..." I felt a new surge of lust, and thrust my chest out proudly. "Yes, they can be. Come on, feel my tits, feel them!" I cried at him, pulling my robe open and shaking my bared titties in his face.

"Jesus, they're beautiful," he moaned, reaching out to them, cupping them with both hands, lifting them up to his face and gobbling away. His lips and tongue slid wetly across the jiggling, plump flesh of my tits.

"Mmmmmm! Kiss them, kiss them!" I cried at him, shaking the tits wildly from left to right in his face. "Mmmmmmm, kiss my fat titties!"

He kissed them. He licked his tongue all over them, up and down on the thick, trembling buds. The sensations I received from this tongue 'lashing were incredible. It was a directly sexual response, shooting all through me. I shook the tits at him and fed those long, throbbing nipples into his mouth.

While still sucking on my nipples, and running his tongue all over the hot flesh of my tits, he began ripping at the rest of my clothes. I was soon stripped naked in front of him. He pushed me away from him then. He wanted to see me. He looked, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. He drooled from his open lips, and sighed deeply. He shook his head as if in disbelief.

"Jesus Christ, baby, you are built. Fantastic. I'm gonna come just looking at you... holy shit, what a difference from you-know-who."

I ignored the reference to my mother this time. I was turning on to his compliments and physical appreciation of me. I grabbed at him, finally, and took his big cock into my hand. I squeezed it and jerked it up and down again and again. He fell on top of me. We sprawled about on the bed. His throbbing prick rubbed across my open cunt and sent hot waves of pleasure shooting through me. I grabbed at him violently, pulling his hard, masculine body against me, rubbing the thick hairs on his chest across my tender, tingling titties. Our erect nipples mashed together. I reached down for the cock, sliding my fingers up and down on it, back and forth, then twisting it, pushing it down between my thighs. I caught a breath as I realized I had hooked him with my pulsating pussy lips. And then I gasped, turning it into a groan as he took his chance and jammed down into me, shooting the cock right up my spout. I cried and shook. My thighs clasped together against him and we rocked from side to side while the prick mashed in and out, in and out, deeper and deeper inside my hot pussy. It was a beautiful sensation, getting more beautiful and more breathtakingly pleasurable every moment.

"Oh, baby, such a cunt," he groaned at me. "Oh yeah, that's nice, that's nice... your cunt feels like hot, melting butter around my prick."

He moved in and out, in and out, again and again, back and forth, twisting, twirling, digging in deep suddenly, then slowly lifting back till only the head of the throbbing cock was still inside me.

"Ohhhhhhh, fuck me, fuck me!" I cried at him, thrusting my hips up in the air, opening myself to him as fully as I could.

And then he would jam down hard and tight inside of me. I would shake all over, a violent contraction, then a follow-up convulsion, racing through me, up and down, roaring, exploding. I knew that it would only be a matter of moments before I started coming around his pounding prick. He grunted loudly and screamed and panted at me. I didn't think he would be able to go on all that much longer, either, at this rate. I could feel the swelling in his prick, as it got nearer and nearer to the boiling point, when it would flood my insides with hot, steaming, scalding come, all through my hot pussy.

In and out, he pumped, back and forth, back and forth, on and on and on without a pause. I quivered and twisted, my body nearly climbing up over him as he pounded that big prick in and out.

"You like that, baby? Huh? You like your Daddy's big fat cock fucking through your hot little pussy? Ahhhhhhhh! Yeah, yeah, don't that feel good, doll?"

"Mmmmmmmmmmm! Yes, oh yes, yes, it feels so good, God, yes, fuck me, fuck my cunt, fuck the shit out of me, Daddy!"

I could scream anything then, the worst obscenity, the most devilish thought that entered my brain. I was temporarily insane, cracked by the weight of my exploding sexual emotions and energies. Again and again I thought I had reached a peak, that this was the ultimate climax I would feel, only to realize it was just another level below the peak that he was pushing me towards.

We climbed, higher and higher, towards some lofty Everest of ecstasy. In and out his prick pushed, deeper and harder all the time, never stopping, never pausing, on and on, digging in and out of me, a rapid, blistering series of in and out motions. The cock was enormous, throbbing, swelling thicker with every stroke. And I felt his big, hairy balls cracking against my flesh as he charged inward. The dangling baubles would scratch erotically against the bottom of my cunt and my asshole while he ground his pole through me. Then he would pull out, slipping away, filling me with a draining sensation, like the whole world was slipping away. But only for a moment, while he hovered at the tip of the cunt, circling around, then jamming down again, down deep inside me, all the way in, down, shooting to the back of my cunt and circling around and around there. He pulled back. In the grip of his own rising emotions he nearly fell out of me. But he caught it just in time and sent the whole throbbing yard back down into my cunt. I shook, leaping into the air like I was having some sort of volcanic seizure. Then he would fuck in and out with rapid, quick movements, taking my breath away, building my impending sense of climax to a new high.

"Ohhhhhhhh!" I would scream at him. "Ohhhhhhhhhh! God, fuck me, fuck my hot cunt, Daddy! Yes, oh yes, yes, yes, fuck me! Fuck! Ahhhhhhhhh!"

"I'll fuck you, baby, I'll fuck you but good... ohhhhhhh, Jesus, I'm gonna come, yeah, yeah, I'm gonna come, for God's sake, I'm gonna come!"

He didn't let it go just yet, though. He prolonged his pleasure for one minute more, pumping away at me, back and forth, in and out, again and again, lunging, shooting his throbbing rod through me, making me choke and gasp when he dug in, then making me scream wildly as he pulled it back out. It felt like he was uprooting a tree when he pulled back, there was so much stress and strain on my part. It was only a few seconds before he finally exploded that I really started to come. I saw bright lights flashing all around me, and the room seemed to spin in circles. I clung to him, afraid, dizzy, not quite knowing what was happening, though I knew that I liked it.

And then he screamed, "I'm coming! Coming! Coming!" And then his hot sperm shot into me, pouring out in a roar of wet heat. More and more and more poured through me, deep inside my cunt before it bubbled out again.

It was beautiful. It was fantastic. The pleasure just grew and grew and grew', unending and glorious.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh! Daddy!" I cried. "Fuck me, fuck me! Ayyyyyyyyyy! Dig that prick all through me! Come! Ahhhhhhhhh! I love it!" And I did love it. And that wasn't the only time I loved it, either. There were other times, Doctor. Many other times. You see, I became addicted to my stepfather's loving, I guess, just as much as if it had been some deadly drug. It got so I could not live without it. And pretty soon we began taking more chances, doing it more often, when my mother would be out for only a little while. And then we finally did it while she was in the house, sleeping. We did it with her asleep in her room just a few yards down the hall. It was crazy, and it was horrible of us but we did it. I was hooked. What can I say? What finally happened was inevitable, right? We couldn't go on like that, right under her nose, forever, without her finding out sooner or later. And she did find out. One night he snuck into my room. We came together and started fucking on my bed. We were right in the middle of it when she came. She must have awakened and wondered where he was. A few minutes might have passed in which time she began to get curious. A little stroll down the hall then, and she probably heard our moans. She burst in, and there we were, his prick slamming away at my cunt from behind.

She let out a scream. I can still hear it ringing in my ears. I shall never forget it. And that was the end of it. She told us she never wanted to see either one of us again as long as she lived. And she left then. And that was the last time I saw her to this day. I miss her. I know now what I did. But I had lost my mind back then, lost all control of myself. I knew that it would hurt her when she found out but I still did it. So what does that make me, Doctor? Hm? Not much of a person, I guess. You tell me, you're the Doctor. Have you ever heard of anybody doing anything so rotten in your whole life?


CONCLUSION

Debbie's case was a sad one. She was a girl who was led astray by a dominating personality, but also a lecherous and neurotic personality who was willing to put a vulnerable girl through an outrageous situation to flatter his own desires and vanity. The girl paid the price. I can't imagine the man involved as being overly sorry about the whole catastrophe. I feel that Debbie can go on to lead a healthy, normal life if she is able to put her past problems into perspective, and realize that what she did under such destructive influences as those of her stepfather, she cannot be held accountable for. She has grown up a lot since then, and the fact that she realizes what happened was terribly wrong proves, to me at any rate, that she no longer has the same problem within her, or the capacity for it to repeat itself.


CASE HISTORY THREE

SUBJECT: Tom G. AGE: Sixteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Tom is a bright, good-looking young man. Perhaps he is just a little too good-looking. I don't wish to make light of his problem, for it is a problem. The poor boy has found this his attractive face and figure have gotten him into situations which he is simply not mature enough to handle. For someone his age to have to deal with older people's aggressions is not quite fair. He has been taken advantage of on more than one occasion. But I will let him tell, in his own transcribed voice, of the misadventures he has had. To some of you they may seem like a dream come true, but to someone with a serious outlook on life, and a desire to make a career for himself by studying hard and staying out of trouble, some of the problems he has faced seem more like a nightmare.

* * *

Doctor, you don't understand what I'm trying to tell you. I didn't do anything to lead these ladies on. Honest. Most of the time it doesn't matter because it's over and that's that. But when something like this time with the principle's wife, you know, it's messed up my whole academic record. Who's gonna want to take a student who has had such a poor report from the head of his high school, and who's been suspended for such a long stretch the way I was. And it wasn't my fault. If that bitch Mrs. Kingston wasn't so damned horny, and hadn't gotten her meaty thighs around me, none of this would have happened. And I'm all shaken up about it, Doctor. I don't know what to do. Everything I planned for, hoped for, seems thrown out the window. I wanted to go to a good school. I spent so much time and effort in getting everything working my way and then this had to go and happen. I'm about ready for a nervous breakdown, Doctor, I can tell you. You've got to help me, do something. All right, all right, I'll tell you about Mrs. Kingston.

She looks nice. I won't deny she's an attractive woman, even if she is nearly forty or so. Anyway, she looks a lot better and younger than a husband. Dr. Kingston must be twenty years older than her. It's no wonder she goes around looking for other guys. He probably hasn't been able to get it up for her in years' and years. He's a rotten bastard, all right. She's tall and shapely, and has nice blonde hair, and it's natural. I ought to know, right? I fucked her, and I saw those golden curls around her pussy.

She knew me from the basketball team and a few of the student council meetings and things like that where some faculty wives might be hanging around. She always played it very haughty with all of the other wives and faculty members. She was the principle's wife, of course, so that meant she was some big cheese, I guess. She didn't mean much to me. But, funny enough, she was never that way to me. Whenever she saw me she would come by and smile at me and ask me how I was, and if it was after a game she would tell me how well I played. I would thank her and leave it at that. I didn't think it would be good policy to become too chummy with the principle's wife. And boy, was I right. I just wish I had never set eyes on that woman. All the trouble she's caused me...

Okay, so she liked me. So maybe it was a sexual attraction. I guess it did turn out that way, so I can't deny the possibility. But I'm telling you the truth when I say that I had no interest in her, pretty and sexy as she was, and I never gave her any sign of encouragement. She went after me. And I guess you could say that she got me, all right.

It was one day a little while ago that it came to a head.

She must have been visiting her husband at the school, I guess. Anyway, she was coming out of the front office glass doors when I just happened to be walking through the hall on my way somewhere. It was close to lunchtime, I remember, and I was hall monitor that period and was taking off a little early. I walked past the office and she was in the doorway and she looked out and saw me. She called to me. I didn't stop. I still felt that it was trouble to become friends with the principal's wife, and boy, I was sure right about that. But it became even more trouble than I ever would have imagined. That woman has just about ruined my life, her and her husband.

"Dear? Tom, didn't you hear me? I said hello to you just now. What's the rush?"

"I... well, I guess there's no rush," I said, caught without an answer. You couldn't go and tell the principal's wife that you were breaking a rule and leaving your post a few minutes early so you wouldn't have to stand in line at the cafeteria. So I stopped and stood in front of her, as much at attention as if it had been the principal himself. I don't know why I felt so much trepidation, but I did. There was no real reason for it. But maybe, if you believe in such things, Doctor, it was something inside me telling me that this woman was a harbinger of bad luck for me. It was something telling me to avoid her at all costs. Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough to listen and follow my instincts, and what happened happened.

"I haven't seen you in such a long time, Tom," she said to me.

"Well," I said, "you saw me at the last game, ma'am. I nodded to you when you said hello to me. That wasn't too long ago."

She smiled strangely, seductive, I guess you could say, especially in hindsight, and shrugged her shoulders at me.

"It certainly seemed like a long time to me, dear. But maybe that's just me. Anyway, I'm glad I ran into you now, dear."

"Oh, how come, ma'am?" I said, a little anxiously. What on earth reason could she have for being glad she ran into me. I was nothing to her. And I would have been very happy to keep it that way. You might think that becoming friends with the wife of a school principal. No way. The less a person knows about one of those guys the better off he is. And I now know it from experience.

"Well, I know how reliable you are, Tom, and what a good student and all. I have a little job for you. You wouldn't mind helping me out, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't mind helping you out... I guess," I said, with a gulp.

"You don't have to sound so pained, darling," she said. "You're a big, strong boy, and it shouldn't take very long. And I'll pay you, of course."

Well, that was something. In the first place I couldn't really refuse her request, and in the second place I was quite hard up for money just then and could use anything in the way of an odd job. All of my extracurricular activities and studying for school took up most of my time, and didn't leave me enough to take any kind of job. A guy my age likes to have a little spending money in his pocket, you know, and not have to ask his parents for every single cent of it.

"What kind of job is it, Mrs. Kingston?" I asked her then. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was nearly time for the bell to ring. She had wasted the little edge I had on the rest of the school. Now I would have to stand in line like everybody else and wait for my food. I don't think I hid my annoyance with her very well.

"Well, I have some packages full of books. My husband has been clearing out his library, filing away the things he doesn't use any more. But he has that bad back of his, and there are about nine or ten big boxes full of these old books. Well, what I need is a big, strong boy like you to carry them down to the basement for me. It will only take a little while. And then I'll give you some milk and cookies, and I'll pay you as I said I would. How does that sound?"

I think I blushed. "Yes, okay, Mrs. Kingston," I said. "But don't bother about the milk and cookies. I don't go much for that sort of stuff."

She laughed, and reached a hand out to me, touching me on the shoulder and then moving her open hand up to touch the side of my face, patting me affectionately.

"Of course you don't. How silly of me. Gosh, you're a big, strong boy now. No, you're a young man. You'd probably more enjoy a nice, cold bottle of beer, right? Yes, I can see it in your eyes. That's what I'll have for you when you're finished. That... and of course your payment, right?"

"Y-yeah, I guess so, Mrs. Kingston. When would you like me to come over?" I asked her.

"Let's see." She thought for a moment, glancing back into the office room where her husband was. Then she turned back. "Yes, I think tomorrow after school would be good. Can you get away then?"

"Well, I suppose so. I had some studying to do, but I guess I can do it some other time," I said to her. "Yeah, tomorrow's all right."

She smiled warmly then, nodding her head slowly, her eyes twinkling.

I felt a strange sensation traveling up my spine. And then I felt it somewhere else. In my cock. I felt it stiffen in my pants, lurch out suddenly. And when it happened, I saw her eyes immediately dart downward, focusing right there on my prick. I must have blushed. I could feel a hot flash go through me.

"I'll be looking forward to seeing you then, Tom. Around four shall we say?"

"Y-yeah. I'll be there around four, Mrs. Kingston," I said.

"Do you know the way to my house, darling?" she asked me.

"Yes, I think I know it. That big house on Elm, at the end of the dead end street," I said. "Everybody knows it."

"If it's too far for you to walk I can come by and pick you up in my car."

"No, no," I said quickly. "That's all right. I can walk there, it's no trouble." That was all I needed, for everybody to see me getting into a car with the principal's wife. Any of about a hundred different rumors would probably spring up after that, something I didn't want at all. Guys at school were always looking to get a reputation around the campus, but I could do without one linking me in any way to the principal's wife or any other member of his family.

So then I backed away. Stumbled would be more precise. She was staring at me so hard that I got so nervous I didn't know what I was doing. I walked right into the opposite wall, giggled, cleared my throat, and started moving along, turning, hurrying away from the beautiful lady as she watched me, a strange, sexy smile on her face.

I kept thinking about what happened while I was eating lunch. There wasn't any harm in it, as far as I could see. I wished she had bothered somebody else with her job offers, but she didn't. That part wasn't what was really on my mind, though. The part that I couldn't stop thinking about was how she had turned me on, how sexually tense I had been, and now I realized I had always been, in her presence. In other words, I was afraid of my own feelings towards her. She aroused me. And now I knew that she aroused me every time that I saw her, and when I was close to her, and she was addressing me directly, and batting those lashes at me, and wetting her lush red lips at me, I was totally turned on. After I had walked away from her and entered the exit, I realized that I was tingling all over. My cock was hard and throbbing away like crazy. What was wrong with me? I asked myself. And then I wondered what would happen when I was alone with her in her big house there. Alone? I then realized she had never mentioned we would be alone. But why did I think it? Something told me that without a shadow of a doubt she had planned for us to be alone in that house. Me and the wife of the school principal, alone. And there I was with a hardon at the thought of her. Yes, you can imagine I had a hard time getting any food down at lunch that particular day.

And when night came, it wasn't any easier for me to get to sleep, either. I lay in bed thinking about her. I was wearing pajamas, but I told myself it was too hot for them and I pulled them off. Now I was naked. It was black in the room. I was alone with my thoughts. And my thoughts concerned Mrs. Kingston. God, I thought, what a sexy woman. I didn't know how somebody like Dr. Kingston got to have somebody like that. It wasn't like he was anything important, after all, just a high school principal. There were rumors that his father left him a lot of money when he died ten years ago or so. Maybe that was when she married him. I didn't know. I wanted to think something like that was true so I would feel better about her, feel that she really didn't care about him, and was free, free to like someone like me. These were all fantasies, remember, Doctor, and I never had any intention of telling Mrs. Kingston what I was feeling that day and that night. But my imagination did run pretty wild, and I soon saw her really falling for me, wanting me as much as I wanted her.

And then I saw her coming to me in my bedroom there. I don't know where I conveniently put my parents who were in the next room, in this fantasy, but all I saw was the radiant Mrs. Kingston, dressed only in a sheer nightgown, her lush body popping out everywhere in the silky gown.

"I want you, Tom," I heard her saying. "I want you so very much."

And then she climbed into bed with me and I tore off the nightgown and feasted my eyes hands and mouth on her lushness, running over the tits and the soft, round stomach, and down through her pussy hair, which I knew even then, sight unseen, had to be naturally blonde. And then I was fucking her, harder and harder, making her scream that she was coming. And then I was coming.

And I was coming for real, having worked my prick back and forth so violently, my mind alive with the fantasy images of Mrs. Kingston. And when I finished coming I lay there quietly in the bed, my legs spread. I closed my eyes and tried to forget about her. Perhaps I would get through the next day without thinking about her again, now. And then I could go over to the house, do the work, and leave, with no problems.

But I was just kidding myself. The problems were only just beginning.

I had a few tests the next day so I didn't have much, time for thinking about Mrs. Kingston. Then school was out. I got out as quick as I could so in case any of my friends saw me I wouldn't have to explain where I was going. I walked fast, which brought me there a little early. I wondered if I should stroll around and waste the time till it was four, or go in now. I figured it was better to get it over with, so I went up the long entranceway and rang the bell. I glanced up the drive as I was coming in. The door to the garage was up, and I didn't see Dr. Kingston's Cadillac in there. My hunch had been right, I realized. He wasn't going to be home. I rang the bell again, and this time the door opened. She was standing there in a silk dressing gown. It was one of those Chinese things with golden dragons on it, It went down to her ankles and was belted in the middle. But she had belted it rather loosely, so that many inches of creamy cleavage showed at the top. She had marvelous tits, and often wore low-cut dresses to some of those school functions she attended. But I had never seen so much of the sizable titties before, and hanging so loosely. She smiled at me seductively. I felt my whole body suddenly come to life, my prick getting hard in my pants. I was wearing a looser pair of trousers this time, and an erection wasn't nearly as apparent as it had been yesterday. But she seemed to have some sort of x-ray vision, and still glanced down just as it began growing. This really made me unsteady, and when she said hello to me, I just mumbled strangely. She opened the door some more and beckoned me inside.

"Come in, dear. You're a little early, aren't you? Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm just so very glad that you're here."

I walked in past her. But she stood beside the door in such a way, closing it as soon as I was alongside her, that her body touched against me. It was only a momentary contact, but it was electrifying for me, feeling the lush softness of her titties. I glanced down and saw them jiggling wildly at the slight touch of my chest and arm as I passed by her.

She closed the door and led me through the house. It was an enormous place, and had a lot of what looked like very expensive furnishings.

"Come on, the boxes with the books in them are over here, dear," she said.

She led me down the hall and pointed at two small cardboard boxes. Then she looked up at me and smiled again, that strange, seductive smile.

"Where's the rest of them, Mrs. Kingston?" I asked her then.

"Oh, uh... gosh, you know, I might have exaggerated slightly. Actually, it's just these two boxes here. It was silly of me to ask you to come all this way for just a couple of boxes, I guess. I hope you're not mad."

I gave her an odd look. I couldn't understand how she could have made such a mistake. Surely even she could have put two small boxes away.

"No... well, that's all right, Mrs. Kingston. I'll put them away, now that I'm here. Where is the door to the basement?"

"Right this way, dear," she said, walking ahead of me.

I picked up both boxes at once and walked after her, peering around the boxes so I could see her ass wiggling inside that tight dressing gown.

She opened the basement door and I went down ahead of her. When I got to the bottom of the steps she told me to wait and she would show me where she wanted me to put the two boxes of books.

I was standing there waiting for her, facing the stairs, as she came down. Suddenly, you could hear the books shaking inside their boxes like they were in a blender that had suddenly been turned to "liquefy." I was shaking so hard that I nearly dropped the bundle right out of my hands. The reason for all of that was because the beautiful Mrs. Kingston was showing me something I had never expected to see outside of my fantasies. Her dressing gown was quite long, and so to keep from tripping on it as she descended the stairs, she lifted the hem with both hands. She lifted it up to her knees, pulling the two sides apart, revealing her long, fleshy legs and above them, the thick ball of blonde fur covering her pussy. My pulse raced and I thought I could feel my heart jump into my mouth with excitement. And when she took each step down, her legs parted and I could see right into the cunt hole itself. She was wearing high-heeled shoes I now saw, which gave her a long reach, and made those long legs extend far when she moved to the next step and the next. By the time she had reached the bottom of the staircase, I was sweating and trembling, passion roaring through me.

She straightened out when she was standing in front of me, and let the hem slip out of her fingers. But by then, the pulling had loosened the belt, so when she let go of the two sides they fell down and opened, exposing little shafts of flesh, including the end of one tit. I could see the thick red nipple, hard and bright pushing against the silky robe.

Doctor, you can't understand how strong the urge was for me right then and there to reach out, grab for that exposed tit, and then mash my face and hands over the rest of that gorgeous body peeking at me through the opened robe. My cock felt like it was on fire as it throbbed against my pants. Loose trousers or no loose trousers, she had to see that I was rock hard now, the cock sticking out like a basket at the crotch of my pants.

She must have seen it. She looked down several times and smiled at me. I was a bundle of nerves.

"Why, my darling, you're all... excited," she said, nodding at my crotch and then straightening her spine, thrusting her breasts out, making the robe fall away more clearly, showing me everything now.

I gasped a few times, then nodded my head up and down.

She laughed. "Yes... yes, of course you are, my darling... and so am I, love, so am I..."

What happened next, Doctor, you just won't believe. But it happened. It all happened just the way I'm going to tell you.


INTERVIEW TWO

Naturally, I was very anxious to hear how this interesting encounter between the boy and the older woman turned out. For purely scientific reasons, of course. Naturally, I was intrigued, but what I was most curious about was how this natural, if not particularly wise, meeting, came to cause such problems for the boy, as he outlined at the start of my first session with : him. Up to now, he seemed to be reacting to everything in a particularly normal fashion. He lusted after the voluptuous Mrs. Kingston, and found, with a mixture of elation and dismay, that she returned the emotion. This is not what has made him so depressed, though. And as we began our second interview I waited to hear what twist of fate so disrupted the boy's lifestyle and ambitions for the future.

So, Doctor, there we were. Both of us hot for the other. She thrust herself against me and I trembled as her lush body rubbed against mine. I held my hands stiffly at my sides for a few moments, then gave in to my needs, and wrapped them around her, grabbing at the fat, soft cheeks of her ass and squeezing them hard, pulling the cheeks apart and rolling the flesh under my palms.

She led me further into the basement, to a corner where some old mattresses were stood up against the wall. She signaled me to grab one while she took the other end of it. We pulled it sideways and let it flop to the floor in a cloud of dust and mildew. She looked at me and smiled, winked, then shed her robe completely. I just stood there staring at her for several seconds that seemed like an eternity. She waved a finger at me, beckoning. I moved closer, walking over the mattress. She grabbed me and pulled my head down to her tits. I mashed my lips over them, kissing and licking at her. She began pushing my head down along her body. The warmth of her, and the sexy, feminine smell filled my senses. I wanted to scream I felt such heated passion invading my body.

And then she fell down onto the smelly mattress and opened her legs.

"Come on, Tom, dear, suck my hot cunt.

Put your tongue deep inside my pussy and lick up all my spew. Mmmmmmm, I want it so bad, darling!"

I gulped, licked my lips excitedly and crawled up to the hairy pink hole between her gaping legs. The heat of it hit me when I was still a couple of feet away. I slid my tongue inside her and licked up her froth. I licked harder and harder, jamming my tongue deep inside, whipping it up along both sides. She moaned and shivered. She. reached down and grabbed my hair, pulling me tighter against her.

"Mmmmmmmm, suck me, suck my cunt, dear, suck my hot, hot pussy! Ooooohh! I want you, I want you so much, so very much! Ahhhhhhhhh!"

I burrowed down into her, sucking faster and harder. Her frothing pussy juice poured out at me and I drank it down with noisy gulps. I licked and sucked and bit at her. I didn't even take time out to breathe, just swam through her juices like I was underwater, my tongue out, lashing at her heaving meat.

I used my tongue like it was a cock, sticking it far inside, then sliding it back, in and out again and again, fucking her with the few inches of my hot, wet tongue. I probed deeper and deeper, into the back reaches of her flaming cunt. In and out, around and around at the wet, heaving walls of the cunt, I shot my tongue around and made her squirm and groan louder and louder.

"Mmmmmmmmm! Yes, yes, yes, ohhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed at me. I could glance up and see that her face was bright red from exertion and mounting passion. "Mmmmmmmmmmm! Fuck me, fuck me! God, oh, oh yes, yes! Fuck me with that tongue!"

Her cunt was on fire. I should have known. It was my tongue getting burned as it dug through her. But I pressed on, too excited myself to think of stopping. She writhed wildly beneath my lapping tongue. Her legs slammed against me. I wondered if she would ever let me stop. My cock was just as hot as her cunt was now, and I was getting more and more desperate to do something with it.

My mouth started to ache. I might have been rubbing my tongue and lips over cunt glass it got so bad. But I continued on, inspired by the intensity of the moment, the extreme erotic atmosphere that had been reached. I buried my face in those tangled golden hairs surrounding the cunt hole. The hairs tickled me, nearly making me sneeze. But nothing put me off. I sucked on, and on and on. Again and again I was hit in the face with the splashing waves of her exploding juices. It was incredible. She came, spewed nearly as much juice as a man's cock. And I sucked it in and drank it all, swallowing it down, feeling it warm my stomach. I wanted it all. I had never experienced anything like this before. The taste and smell were more breathtakingly sexual than anything I had imagined up to then. That smell was all around me, keeping me, despite the fact that I was exhausted and out of breath, at a peak of excitement and arousal, my cock still hard and throbbing, maybe throbbing harder than ever, as a matter of fact.

I lapped and licked, again and again, repeatedly, it seemed endless, my stroking her with my tongue, using long, powerful strokes, extending my sore tongue as best I could. She writhed all over beneath me, screaming at me, her hands tearing through my scalp, pulling hair out of my head. She begged me not to stop, and begged for more and more and more of the fabulous tongue-lashing I was giving her.

"Mmmmmmmmmm! Yes, yes, oh yes, suck me, suck my cunt! Ahhhhhhhhh! Suck my fucking hot pussy! Mmmmmmmmm! Oh, that's so good, so good!"

Just when I had thought she might be reaching the end of her convulsive spewing and climaxing, she would surprise me with another burst of the stuff. Another boiling burst of hot secretion would shoot out at me. I was nearly suffocated by the rich strength of the outbursts. But I charged on, digging my tongue up into her, lashing up and down, in and out. My tongue was certainly sore by now, but I tried not to pay attention to the blistering tenderness of it as I moved it in and out of the boiling cunt, up and down the length of it. I began twisting my head against her, using the full weight of my head. This seemed to increase her pleasure. She grabbed at my ears and started lifting my head up and smashing it down, like it was a coconut she was trying to break open against her cunt. Her spew flowed out at me and I licked at it, more and more, sweet, sour, sticky, drooling across my mouth, dripping down over my chin. I drove my tongue in and out, harder, deeper all the time.

The feeling was fantastic.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh, suck me, suck me, suck my hot cunt!" she groaned violently, her body thrashing, bouncing and shaking on that dirty, musty mattress. She dug her hands into my back, the nails scraping through my flesh. "Suck that hot pussy, oh, oh, yes, you beautiful boy, mmmmmmmmm! Suck me, suck me!"

She screamed and writhed like she was insane, or in great pain, though I knew that she was feeling the extreme opposite of pain, and as to her being insane, I thought you could only call her clever for the way she had gotten me over to her house, and now got me to do her bidding. I was the only crazy one, if there was one, for doing what I was doing with the wife of my principal.

"Don't stop, don't stop!" she cried out when I had paused for a moment. "Nnnnnnnnn, God, Tom, no, no, don't you dare stop, darling!"

I quickly sucked for air and tried to get a second wind. Then I burrowed inside her again, licking and lapping away, digging deep once more, fighting against her intense thrashing. She cried that she was climaxing, and I could certainly feel the way her body seemed to ripple convulsively.

"Mmmmmmmmm! Oh, darling, darling, I'm coming! Ahhhhhhhhhh, yes, yes, suck me, suck my hot cunt, my darling... ohhhhhhhh, yes, you are a talented young man, aren't you? Nnnnnnnnnn! Suck it, suck my hot cunt!"

She ground her crotch at me. Her cunt was bright red with excitement, shining like some flashing red beacon at my face as I twisted my mouth and nose down into the undulating flesh and sucked her again and again. The rest of her luscious naked body was also glowingly red. Her face looked inflamed, and her breasts were full of color, the nipples a ripe purplish-red hue, like they were going to pop at any moment and shoot their contents across the room.

Now I had regained my excitement. My hands started touching her. It was like I was trying to cling for my life, grabbing for parts of her that swayed and swelled at me, those big tits with their long, firm nipples, and the rest waving wildly, undulating and bucking. I put my fingers on her cunt and opened her wider while my mouth and tongue continued to work at her, licking and biting on the soaking, sizzling hole. Her milky fluids continued to chum out at me. And I continued to drink them down. She screamed at me, alternating occasionally with a whispered plea to continue this or that bit of oral maneuvering.

"Ahhhhhhhh! Mmm... ooohh, yes, yes, yes, that's nice, that's nice, suck me there, darling, ahhhhhhh... Ohhhhhhhh! God, oh God, yes, yes!"

My tongue was overworked, but I didn't let it give up the battle yet. I would do it till she begged me to stop, I told myself. I went on, flailing at her with my tongue, moving it at the same violent speed, in and out, up and down, slurping up her oozing juices. And my fingers continued running up and down along the sides of her pussy, pulling at the long, golden' cunt hairs. The feel of her flesh down there was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Every time I touched her my pleasure seemed to increase, which was really saying something considering the insane peak of passion I had reached almost at the outset.

She screamed deliriously and I pushed my tongue in deeper and deeper.

"Mmmmmmmmmmm! Suck me, suck me! I'm coming, coming, ahhhhhhhh! Yes, oh yes, suck my hot cunt, Tom, darling, yes, yes, suck it, suck it!"

I saw that when I lifted my tongue up to her clitoris, she was lifted even higher into the realm of violent ecstasy, and I began concentrating my attentions there for a while. I rested my lips against the ruby red button and sucked it, pulling it right between my lips. I could feel the thing swelling and humming as I held it there in my mouth. And I could also feel Mrs. Kingston going into convulsions as her pleasure swelled insanely. It had to be a great crime for such a passionate woman to be tied to such an uptight asshole like Dr. Kingston. For a moment, even under those violent, mindless circumstances, I felt sorry for the lady. It made my position perhaps a little more pathetic. Her attraction to me was probably a lot less personal than I had hoped. I was just the guy she had singled out for the job, figuring that she could call the shots with me, wrap me around her little finger, so to speak. And she did it, probably just as she had planned. But I didn't care about that. I was not one of those guys worried about my machismo, and always being the one to make all the decisions in sex. And since at that moment I had her wrapped around my tongue, her dominance was severely in question. Not that she wasn't making every effort to control me now as I sucked her, and working hard to be sure I didn't try and move away till she had gotten every last drop of pleasure my tongue and teeth and lips could elicit.

But I wanted to end it now. I wanted to push her past the peak, right over the edge, make her know she had gone to the limit. I bit down harder on that throbbing clitoris of hers. I stretched the muscle as far as I could before it might snap. My hands held her to me, open and exposed, so she couldn't pull away before I was done with her. But now she was screaming that it was too much, that she couldn't stand any more. And that meant my oral ordeal was almost over. But it would end in style, with a breathtaking climax.

"Ahhhhhhhhh! Oh, coming, coming!" she cried out wildly. "Ohhhhh, enough, Tom, Tom, darling, enough, oh, God, ohhhhhhhhh! Coming!"

I chewed on the tiny, throbbing clitoris. She shook and screamed. I opened my eyes and looked up to see her face twisted with passion. To look at her just then you might have thought her mind had snapped completely. I pushed on, pushing her over that final brink. My teeth ground down on her clitoris, and it is just blind luck that I didn't snap the thing off.

Her ass bucked up at me, lifting off that stinking mattress. Her meaty, soft thighs held tight to me. They squeezed at me. The thighs hit my throat and started to strangle me. It would have been a pretty colorful way to go, I guess, strangled to death by the woman I was sucking. The pressure kept up, but I didn't stop sucking and biting on her throbbing clit. The room began to go black, then flash brightly and spin around me like I was drunk. Her clitoris swelled out between my teeth. I bit down, harder, harder. She was creaming me wildly now. Her heated juice shot out all over my face, till it was dripping along my neck. It was like I had dunked my head in under a waterfall. I drank down all I could and the rest spilled over.

I had just about had it now. Her thighs were still gripping me by the throat so I couldn't breathe except in violent snorts. I pushed my final oral lunges through her, deep, hard, into the dark, undulating, spewing interior. Her legs relented their pressure on my throat and kicked in the air. Her ass twisted around and she flooded my mouth with yet another layer of her womanly honey. She screamed violently, in the last, convulsive throes of her many orgasms.

"Ohhhhh! God, oh God! It's beautiful! So beautiful! Mmmmmmmmmm! Suck! God, Tommy, suck my hot cunt! Ayyyyyyyyyyy!"

Her body shook like it was being electrocuted. I licked again and again, feeling the loss of power in my blistered tongue. The cunt was still as wet and as hot as ever. My tongue rose up the length of her, tapping at the clitoris, sliding through her pussy hairs, then kissing her there. Then I lifted my head up and took a deep breath. The fresh air felt so good I think I would have passed out from the shock of it, but instead I rolled back from her, twisted my head a few times to get the cramps out of it, and then sat up.

"No," I said. "Mrs. Kingston..." Then I gulped. Enunciating the principal's surname in such a situation filled me with momentary dread. Then I took another deep breath, regaining my courage and manhood. "Mrs. Kingston, I'm gonna fuck you now."

She took a deep breath, her big tits heaving up, practically into her face. Then she ran her tongue around her lips and nodded, smiling at me.

"Yes," she said softly. "Of course you are, Tommy, my darling."

I stood up on the mattress and started to undress. She watched me with eager, unblinking eyes. I threw my shirt down and unbuckled my pants, dragging them down next. Then I was standing in front of the principal's wife in just my underpants. My cock was pushing the briefs way out in the front. Mrs. Kingston licked her lips in anticipation and nodded her head up and down.

"No, wait, let me do it, let me do it," she mumbled excitedly. "I want to take your underpants off and see that cock of yours."

And she did it, sliding them down slowly, savoring every moment, every inch that was gradually revealed to her. Then it was out all the way, dangling and throbbing at her. She breathed deeply, licked her lips, then opened them. She kissed the big cock on the head, then ran her tongue down the underside of it.

"Oh, it's lovely... so big and fat and beautiful," she sighed, her saliva drooling onto the throbbing shaft. "I love it, darling, I love it!"

She sucked the head into her mouth and chewed on it, inhaling inch after inch of the long shaft till she had swallowed me whole. She twisted around then by the base before sliding up again. She pumped up and down several times, getting my juices flowing. She sucked the drooling come down her throat with a gulp. Her hand cupped my dangling balls and crushed them up against the shaft till I convulsed from the wave of pleasure this caused. Then she pushed away from me, sighing, nodding her head and running a hand up through her cunt.

"Come on, darling, you've got to fuck me now. You've got to stick that beautiful big prick up my hot twat... oooohhhhh, I can't wait another moment!"

She spread her legs wider, stroking at her fabulous golden fur. I moved over her. I positioned myself between her creamy, sweaty thighs. I moved in till my hard, throbbing prick was touching lightly against the soft, golden curls of her pussy. I let it bob about over her there for another few moments. I squeezed my sphincter muscles and felt the prick stiffen tautly, and a bubbling layer of come swelled out of my tip and drooled down the long shaft.

"Mmmmmm, fuck me, fuck me," she moaned. "Ooooohh, please, please, stick that big dick into me, Tom, I can't wait any more, I have to feel it inside me!"

Her lower half was still twitching and spewing from my first attack, with my mouth and tongue. As I hovered over her, with my cock tapping at her hole and her bush and trembling thighs, she quivered and groaned and tried to lift herself up over me, grabbing for the cock like a hungry flying fish. Her eyes pleaded with me to fill her with my throbbing pole. It was a look that could not be ignored.

I slid the cock inside a little, watching her tremble at the pressure. My cock too was trembling convulsively, and it was hard to keep a steady grip on it as I fed a little bit at a time into her twat. My deliberate pacing was driving Mrs. Kingston crazy, and her body twisted and jumped in the air. Her tautly extended cunt lips quivered, stretching for me, wanting me so badly it hurt her. I took a couple of deep breath before I let her have it.

Then I jammed down, shooting the whole prick up inside her warm cunt. Inch after long, throbbing inch I fed down her tunnel. She shuddered and cried out, her hands grabbing at my arms and the nails squeezing into my flesh.

"Ohhhhhhhh! God! Yes, fuck me, fuck me! Mmmmmmmmmmm! Fuck me, darling, ohhhhhhh, it feels so damn good... your beautiful cock... uhhhhhhh!"

Deep inside her hot cunt I plunged. Fantastic feelings rushed to every part of my body at once. Her cunt muscles clamped against my cock, threatening to rip it right in half she was so fierce and uncontrolled. I pulled it back out, leaving only the head to throb around inside her before I jammed the rest down.

"Ohhhhhhhhh! God, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Mrs. Kingston cried at me. "Mmmmmmmmmm! Fuck that prick all the way up through me, darling, ahhhhhhhh, yes, fuck me so hard... ohhhhhhhhh, it's beautiful, it's beautiful! Ayyyyyyyyyy! Fuck me, fuck my hot cunt, fuck it harder, faster, darling, oh, oh yes! Ayyyyyyyyy!"

Her cunt snapped at me again and again. It took my breath away when those great, shark-like jaws squeezed at my pulsating member. She was a force to be reckoned with. It was going to be a real fight for dominance, I suspected.

I pounded into her, taking her breath away, fucking the struggle out of her, making her whimper and twitch and beg for more. She closed her eyes and twisted her head from side to side convulsively, smacking her profile into the mattress on either side, again and again. I could feel the passion roaring in her middle as I fucked my hot, hard cock in and out of her. It was enormous, and flaring hotter and hotter all the time. It scalded my shaft as I dragged it back and forth in her. I wouldn't doubt there were actual sparks flying from the burning, electric friction of my cock meeting her cunt.

"Mmmmmmmmm! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck that hard cock all through me! Ahhhhhh! It feels so good, so good, darling, ohhhhhh, Tom, yes, yes, fuck me! Ayyyyyyy! Fuck that hard cock through me, it feels so good!"

"Okay, Mrs. Kingston, you want it and you're gonna get it... take it, you bitch!" I cried at her. "Ohhhhhhhh! Take that prick, that hot prick... ahhhhhh... suck it up inside that fat pussy of yours, yeah, yeah, oh Jesus, take it!"

I hunched over her, breathing deeply, my chest rising out against her own heaving, swaying titties, feeling their hardened nipples scratch through the hairs on my chest. Both pairs of nipples were burningly erect. I jammed my cock down into her and writhed around, wiggling the pole as many times as I could before I ran out of steam and had to pull the cock back and relieve the pressure for a few moments. She was screaming at me every moment now, and it was certainly a very different Mrs. Kingston lying beneath me, moaning and shaking, her face all contorted with passion, than the one all of us knew from school, that composed, soft-spoken, self-satisfied bitch who acted so superior to everybody. She certainly wasn't acting superior now. She had learned who was in charge in this battle, and was succumbing, screaming her surrender out loud, and begging for mercy. I was merciless, though, and fucked on, in and out, again and again, harder and harder, faster, fucking away, digging through all of that heaving, hot flesh of her spewing pussy. I squirmed tighter against her, pushing my fingers up under her smooth, plump buttocks, squeezing on the lovely female flesh, spreading the cheeks apart, holding the cunt open even wider for my attack.

Mrs. Kingston's head nodded up and down in approval, and her words were similarly approving. "Oh yes, yes, that's good, so good, ayyyyyyyyyyyy! Fuck me, fuck me, so hard, so hard, ahhhhhhhhhhhh! I love it, love it! Mmmmmmmmm! Do it to me, Tom, yes, oh yes, yes! Fuck that hard cock through me!"

She raised her legs up and wrapped them around my back. She kicked at my ass, like she was riding a horse and wanted it to go faster. I went faster, though I was already fucking so fast that I was shooting out of control.

In and out of her I thrust, back and forth through the undulating pussy. My ass rose high in the air then I would wind back, ready for the downward thrust. And then it would come, and we would both gasp loudly, nearly screaming as the breath would be knocked out of us. Then I would quickly fuck in and out a few more times before doing the slow rise and sudden fall again. I thrust in and out, back and forth, violently fucking her, making her scream and shake and cry for more. And there was more. I didn't think I would ever stop at that point. Her legs kicked down into my ass, spurring me on faster.

"Ohhhhh, Christ," I groaned. "I'm going to come soon... ohhhhhh, I have to, I have to... nnnnnnn, yes, yes, soon now... ohhhhhhh!"

I was running out of steam, but I knew the end was just ahead, and I wanted it to be something special. I slowed for a few moments, trying to catch a breath that would see me through the last, ultimate phase of this encounter. Then, filled with renewed vigor, though it might only be momentary, I slammed into her again, as hard as a battering ram, in and out, in and out, making myself dizzy with the speed and force I used to fuck her. I stabbed her cunt, and felt her spew like blood rush up to coat my spear. In and out, making her scream. Back and forth, making her moan and shiver from head to toe. It was incredible. Every movement I made sent a series of hot thrills racing through my body, hardly finishing before the next wave of them caught up, compounding their erotic force.

Her cunt pinched at my prick like pincers of steel. But she didn't hold onto me. I still fucked, back and forth, in and out, again and again, harder and harder, back and forth, rushing to the end, feeling the gates opening up, ushering me inside, the pleasure descending on me from every direction. It was happening now, and there was no stopping it.

I pounded down, in and out, back and forth, ramming through her churning cunt hole, making her scream. I was doing this to her, me, to a woman who had to be more than twice my age.

I pounded, pounded through her heaving cunt, racing to the end. She was there already, and she couldn't get any higher. I felt like I had stumbled, been kicked head over heels into space, losing my balance, shooting in circles, spinning. And then, with a distant oozing sensation I felt my sperm spraying through her. More and more and more, a seemingly endless stream that bathed my whole body in a pool of hot, steamy liquid fire. I exploded, more and more and more.

Everything that happened in the next minute after I started coming was like in a dream. I was content, peaceful, satisfied.

I lay there in Mrs. Kingston's arms, breathing deeply, feeling her doing the same right into my ear.

"That was wonderful, darling, really wonderful," she said softly. "No one, and I mean no one, has ever fucked me like that before."

"I... thanks," I said, words failing me. I could have told her that I had never even dreamed of a fuck like that before, but I was too out of breath. She would have to guess how much I enjoyed it from the look on my face.

We were lying there like that for another couple of minutes. She heard something. I was too knocked out to worry about it. I didn't know if she had a dog or a cat for a pet or something, and didn't give it a thought. But she lifted her head up. Then she turned and looked at me. I could see she was worried about something.

"What's the matter?" I asked her then. "Somebody up there?"

And then we knew, because we both saw the feet emerging from above, coming down the stairs. Their were pants attached, black suit pants, and then a black jacket and then a pink-complexioned man about sixty years old. It was Mr. Kingston, my principal.

My body shot away from Mrs. Kingston like there were rockets attached to me. But it did no good to separate myself by a few feet. The jig was up.

"You, boy," he said to me, pointing a long, bony finger. "You are going to be in very serious trouble. I'll see to that if it's the last thing I ever do."

And I knew that he meant it.


CONCLUSION

I could see that Tom had gotten himself into a great deal of trouble, but basically was not at fault. What I had to deal with with this boy, was the results of his indiscretion, rather than anything he did. Of course, things were simply not as bad for him as he pretended, and I am helping him see the things he can do to put his career plans back on course.


CASE HISTORY FOUR

SUBJECT: Wendy Q. Age: Sixteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Wendy is another girl who life has seen fit to make difficulties for. She had been living a particularly normal existence, though without any sexual education, innocent both physically and intellectually. Perhaps if she had been a little more worldly at the time of her sixteenth birthday, what happened to her might not have been quite so traumatizing. Not, mind you, that I mean to say that anyone having an experience with one's own mother as this girl did, should not feel some long-lasting effects. But Wendy seems to have been inordinately disturbed by her mother's actions. One could ask why the girl allowed what happened to happen. A good question, but a misleading one. How could the girl have known what her mother had planned when she requested the girl to strip all her clothes off? This in itself was no sign of the degrading sexual attack the mother would soon perform. And then again, if we must be entirely objective, we must look at this for a moment from the mother's point of view, and wonder if her professed reasons for what she did, to educate her daughter, to sensitize her, so to speak, so that the girl would indeed be more worldly as she entered the phase of young womanhood. As a doctor I cannot scoff at such a practice in its ideal state. The use of the proxy in sexual therapy is often recommended. But I must declare without any doubt that this is something to be done only under professional guidance. A mother may be naturally equipped to bring up a child, but to go beyond that, as this mother did, even into the field of sexual therapy is playing a dangerous game. As in Wendy's case, the results were not particularly satisfactory.

* * *

Doctor, I wish you could understand, I don't hate my mother. Even after what she did to me. I don't think she meant to hurt me. I could have told her to stop what she was doing, couldn't I? I'm not stupid. I just wasn't ready for her to do what she did. Maybe it's just society I'm afraid of, and not my mother at all. It's not my mother who thinks she did something wrong, it's the society. It's funny, really. My mother still doesn't understand what I'm so upset about, she really doesn't. I guess she's lived so long doing exactly what she wanted, gratifying her every desire. What she feels like doing, she does. I didn't resent it when she used to go off, traveling around the world, sometimes for a year or more at a time. She liked to be wherever all her rich, glamorous friends were, Switzerland, the Riviera, Acapulco. So I got to see her whenever she had a little time off. When she would be gone for a long time, and then came back to see me, it was always a little awkward. I would be very pleased to see her, but she acted differently from time to time, sometimes like she hardly knew who I was. And I suppose the biggest change for the two of us was when she came back that time a little while ago now, not long after my sixteenth birthday. She had written on a post card that she was going to try and make it for my birthday, but of course she forgot about that somewhere along the line. I didn't mind. I knew she had important things to do. Well, they were important to her, anyway. Other people might say they were trivial things, things just to give her pleasure. But she was still my mother, and the next post card said she would definitely be there the following week, and she was. My governess came up to tell me that my mother had just arrived. Mrs. Robson then said that she would be leaving then for the weekend, and hoped that I enjoyed my time with my mother. I said goodbye to her, closed the door, and quickly changed out of my jeans and sweater into something that would look nicer for me to greet my mother in. I wanted her to be so proud of me. She would have to be very surprised when she saw me this time, for I had changed a lot. I was no longer her little girl with braces on my teeth who liked to wear her golden hair in pigtails.

I was now a woman. My body had changed in many ways. I now had nice, large, firm tits, and hair sprouting in soft curls between my thighs, covering my pussy. And my pussy itself had changed in strange ways. It now seemed far more sensitive than it had ever been. It got wet sometimes, and when I would touch it then, I could hardly believe the way it would make me tremble and would send warm waves of pleasure seeping up through my whole body. Some of my friends the same age as me would tell me that I had blossomed into a very sexy-looking teenager, but I played that down. I was shy, and wouldn't go out with the boys who would ask me for a date. I was afraid. I didn't want to get pregnant, of course, but it was more than that. I just felt too inhibited with my new body to let anyone touch it. I touched it myself, though. I was slowly getting used to the new sensations I could inspire in myself with the right touch of my fingers, and the right image in my mind. I guess you could call it masturbating, though I never really went at it so blatantly as that. But at night, while I'd lie in bed, my fingers would go to my cunt, and I would sigh, and close my thighs around my wrist and enjoy the sharp sensations that would shoot around in my crotch when I fondled it and squeezed it. And I would think about men, some of those same boys who had asked me out for dates. I was too shy to go out with them, but alone, in my bed at night, under the covers, I was brave enough to think about them, and pretend they were touching me, and we were even making love. And then the sensations in my cunt would suddenly shoot ahead, taking my breath away, making me gasp and shake, and close my eyes as the pleasure increased. It would slowly diminish, and then I would sigh and feel very sleepy, and drift right off, dreaming about boys touching me.

I put all of that out of my mind now, turning away from the mirror where I had been examining my naked form. Despite all the compliments I had received from boys, and from girls, in recent months, I wondered what my mother's reaction would be. I had always sought her approval, and she was not one of those people who gave it too easily. My mother was quite staggeringly beautiful, even though she was getting closer to forty now. I had always felt inferior to her, and I wondered if I would have that same feeling now, with my new figure to show her.

I dressed with apprehension and excitement. I hoped I wouldn't act like a little fool in front of her. I always felt so inferior to my mother. I wondered hopelessly if I would ever be able to carry myself as she did, or have such an effect on people as she did. She was one of those people who entered a room and made everybody stop what they were doing to look at her. I wanted some of that poise and self-confidence and assurance to rub off on me. And, though I might look pretty good to some people, in my own mind I still wanted to be beautiful, to look as good as my mother did.

In earlier years I would often hold her picture alongside my own reflection in a mirror and nearly weep at the comparison. I was so skinny and awkward, a real ugly duckling in comparison to my mother's lush, radiant beauty. She was perfections, while I was gawky and graceless. On more than one night I cried myself to sleep. Of course I missed her when she went off on her international travels. I wished that I could come along, but she never asked me, and I didn't want to feel the emotional blow of asking her and then being refused. This way, I could pretend that she really wanted me to come if I asked her, and I just never did. I always figured that I would be a much better person if she would spend more time with me, so I could learn her secrets of composure and grace and effortless beauty.

I wondered now as I got dressed if my mother would be pleased with the way I looked now that I was a young lady of sixteen. The fact that I still felt so inferior to my mother I knew was now merely a psychological problem more than anything. Enough people had told me that I looked good, and my own eyes could tell me, but something in me still feared that I would disappoint my mother.

I finished dressing and stood in front of the mirror. I could feel my heart beating faster than normal. I combed my hair with a brush, then shook it out. Then I combed it again, wanting it to look just right when she saw me. You might almost have thought that it was a new boyfriend downstairs waiting for me, instead of my own mother. But that's what the relationship was like. I was always hoping to impress her and always feeling disappointed at my failure to do so.

"Oh well," I said out loud. "There's nothing more I can do except hope she'll like what she sees. Oh gosh..."

I turned around and went out of my bedroom and along the hall to the steps.

She was waiting for me downstairs in the living room. I slipped quietly into the room and closed the door softly behind me. She was standing near the window looking at the trees beyond. Even without seeing her face my heart seemed to sink with a feeling of hopelessness. She was as lovely and sexy as ever. She had a figure men would kill for. Her hair was a shimmering golden blonde, worn high on her head and pinned with a pearl clip. My eyes feasted on the ripe curves outlined from the back, with that wide, beautiful ass of hers curving out the widest.

I swallowed hard and cleared my throat and quietly whispered, "Mother?"

She spun around quickly and looked at me. She smiled at once. Her face was still lovely, but it definitely seemed a little older, a little more tired and lined, than when I had seen it last, more than a year before. She smiled more brightly and held out her arms to me.

"Wendy, my darling, there you are," she said. "Come here and kiss your mother, my dear girl. Oh, I'm so very happy to see you, my dear."

I rushed to her and embraced her with all my strength. My lips sought to kiss her on the lips and then the cheek but she pushed me away both times before I could touch her skin. I shivered nervously and swallowed a few more times.

"Darling, please, be careful," she laughed. "You don't want to muss my makeup, do you, dear? My, my, my, now let me look at you... goodness, what a big girl you've become since I left you. Yes, my, you're a real woman now, aren't you, Wendy?"

I gulped. I hadn't expected such a barrage of compliments from her. They left me feeling uneasy, without anything to say. I coughed nervously and cleared my throat. She stood there grinning at me for a few moments, while I stood tensely. Her eyes sparkled brightly as she examined me. I felt another wave of self-consciousness setting in right on top of the last as she regarded me, and I tried to ignore it as best I could. I didn't want to act the blushing fool as I so often did in her presence, especially on these nerve-wracking first meetings after she had been away for a time.

"Well now, what a really lovely young lady, yes indeed, very lovely, dear. I can't believe how you've grown up. The last time I saw you... well, how long ago was that? It couldn't have been so long, perhaps four or five months not more."

"Well, it was a little more than a year, actually, Mother," I told her.

"Oh my, could it have been all that long? How times flies when one is having a good time. And I have had such a good time this past year. Some bad times, too, I suppose, but that's only natural. Men have such a way of seeming so interesting in the beginning, and then so boring after a very short time. But I'm happy now. I have Ricardo with me. Have I told you about him in any of my letters, dear?"

"You've only been sending me post cards this year, Mother, but you didn't mention any Ricardo in any of them. Is he someone you like?" I asked her.

"Oh yes, a delicious boy--man, I mean. Well, he is a little younger than me."

I felt myself blushing as she said these things. I knew my mother didn't live like a nun when she was away on her travels, but I didn't really want to know any of the juicy details about her romances with different, younger men.

Changing the subject, I said, "It was so nice of you to come home for my birthday, Mother. That was really nice of you, even though you missed by a few days."

"For your birthday?" she said with a trace of puzzlement in her voice. "Oh, was it your birthday? I knew somebody had celebrated a birthday recently. Oh, but of course, your birthday, my darling... and, uh, how old were you this time, precious?"

"I was sixteen, Mother," I said. "But... you knew that, really, didn't you?"

"Hm? Oh... oh yes, of course, of course. Well, I'm your mother. If anyone should know what your birthday is, it would be me', right? I was there, after all."

Her glib remarks didn't correct the first impression she had made. I realized that not only had she forgotten my recent birthday, but she even forgot how old I was. I should have been deeply offended. Instead, I guess what I felt was humiliation. That was how my mother was. She didn't make you get mad at her for what she did, she made you mad at yourself for not impressing her more.

We talked for a while. She asked me different things, about what I was doing in school, how my grades were, what I was studying, what I did with my spare time. She didn't seem really interested in any of my answers. It was like she was just killing time talking to me. That was how it seemed to me, anyway, Doctor. Maybe you think that I'm imagining those things, those attitudes I mention her having. Well, that's for you to decide, I guess. I certainly am not going to exaggerate what she did or said just a little later. And that's the wildest part of all. In fact, it's so wild that I sometimes still don't believe it happened. Maybe that's one reason why I'm glad to be seeing you, talking to you, Doctor. Maybe you are going to tell me that all of this was just some bad dream, a nightmare that I think really happened. Yes, wouldn't that be nice if it were the case.

Anyway, we were sitting there talking for a while, and my mother wasn't showing much interest until she turned the subject to my love life. She wanted to know if I had been dating any boys from school or wherever.

I told her that I hadn't been dating anyone. When I told her that she gave me a kind of funny look. Then she sat back and thought for a few moments.

"Are you telling me that you haven't been seeing any boy? No dates at all?"

I gulped. I could feel myself blushing again. I shook my head. "No, none," I said.

She arched her eyebrows and peered at me closely. "Have you been seeing any girls?"

"Girls? What do you mean, Mother? I have girlfriends, of course," I said.

"What I mean is, sexually, you know. You aren't gay, are you, dear?" she asked.

"N-no," I said, mumbling, blushing even more vividly. "At least I don't think so."

She nodded her head up and down and sighed. "I can see that I've been neglecting you most shamefully, dear," she said. "My goodness, with me gone all the time there's no telling how you might have turned out. I can just thank my lucky stars that you haven't made any terribly wrong decisions as yet. So it's not too late. I can still teach you the facts of life, and show you how to live a good life. God, I should be ashamed of myself, neglecting you the way I have, it's terrible."

"No, no, Mother, don't say that," I told her. "I've always... always loved you."

"Love is one thing, and discipline and education, and setting a good example are other things, but equally important, and equally part of a mother's duty to her child." I blushed and gulped. I found myself looking away, unable to confront her in this burst of sudden and unusual honesty. She had never spoken like this before.

She stopped speaking then and sat back, regarding me intently for several long moments. At last she let out a deep sigh and nodded her head.

"All right, dear, here's what I want you to do," she said. "I want you to stand up and take off your clothes, Wendy, dear. Come on, hurry up."

I cleared my throat and coughed in surprise. "Mother, what are you saying?"

"You heard what I said. I want you to do what I tell you, Wendy. Take off your clothes."

"Take off my clothes," I muttered strangely. "All of them, mother, all of them?"

"Yes, you heard me, now come on, off with your clothes and don't argue with me."

"But why, Mother? It's not something, I mean, I don't like to be naked in front of anybody, you know... I mean, I haven't been, for a long time."

"Dear child of mine, stop arguing with me. I won't have any daughter growing up without the proper guidance and education. You are a woman now, but not quite a woman, which is where my duty comes in." She heaved a sigh and smiled, impressed by her own new found sense of mission. "I've put off my responsibility for too long now, I suppose. But it's not too late. Come on, come on, undress." I felt my heart thumping as I began to open the buttons on my dress and take off my clothes. I had not been naked in front of my mother for a long time, and not in front of anyone since my body had started changing, growing, all of that new, tender flesh and the hair between my legs. I was self-conscious about my change into womanhood, as I've mentioned, and now suddenly I had to strip naked in front of my mother's gaze. And for what reason? I wondered. What strange reason could she have in mind for making me do that there in the living room in front of her?


INTERVIEW TWO

You can imagine that I was dismayed to see my first session with Wendy end at such a suspenseful moment. What reason, indeed, could her mother have had for making her suddenly disrobe there in the living room in front of her? When she returned to the office for her second interview, I dropped all preliminaries and bade her proceed from where she had left off.

* * *

I shivered now as I wriggled out of my dress and slip. I bent to untie my shoes and pull them off. She was watching me eagerly all the time. She nodded her head.

"Mmm, one thing I'll have to teach you about is how to put on makeup. That's a sign of your maturity, my dear. Your complexion is lovely, but it won't always be, and you might as well learn the tricks of your sex as soon as possible. The fact that, like me, you are naturally beautiful, will just make it easier."

Now I undid the undergarments that would reveal my full nakedness. I tingled all over. I felt my body becoming strangely warm and excited, the skin prickling. It was almost as if I was stripping off my clothes and showing my naked body to a man instead of to my mother. It certainly didn't feel natural.

My mother was still studying me methodically, nodding her head up and down. I could see her eyebrows rising now and then as she saw something she liked.

"Mmhmm," she muttered. "And your hair is lovely too, my dear." She reached towards me and touched it. "Yes, men will adore it. They like natural blondes, you know. It's so soft and long and so sexy. Oh yes, men will enjoy seeing that across their pillows, I'm sure. You're a very lucky girl, Wendy. When men see you you can bet that their cocks are going to snap to attention!"

I blushed scarlet at that remark. It hardly seemed right for a mother to be speaking like that to her own daughter. I didn't like to think of my mother using language like that, in any case. I coughed nervously.

"What are you blushing about?" she asked me furiously. "Stop it. You're a woman and I'm a woman, even if I am your own mother.

We must have no secrets, no subjects that we are too embarrassed to discuss. I'm perfectly willing to tell you whatever you want to know about my life, who I've been fucking with, what you must do with a man when you're in bed with him, how to treat his cock, anything at all that you want to know. Who better to tell someone about such things than her mother, right? I'm not going to have my daughter growing up ignorant and learning things the hard way the way I did. Not at all. She'll learn from a woman of experience, and that woman of experience is certainly going to be me."

I stood before her with my clothes all removed now, but clutching my underwear to my body in an attempt to retain my modesty. She beckoned me to come closer and with one sweep of her hand she pulled down the top of my protective shield, revealing my firm, full young tits. I felt myself blushing again as she looked at them.

"Ahhh, just as I had hoped," she said. "You have my tits, dear, full and fat and pear-shaped. Oh, I'm so delighted for you. Men will just love to put their hands on those beautiful boobs, my dear."

She put her hands to my tits and began to squeeze them, hefting them gently up and down as though weighing fruit at a market. I felt tingles running up and down my spine from the touch of her fingers. No other person had ever held my tits or stroked them the way she was doing, and the feel of her hand was exciting me in spite of my highly dubious feelings about it. I could feel and see the nipples at the tips of my tits starting to harden and push out from the wide pink circles that surrounded them.

"Oh, ha ha, what is this now, darling," my mother laughed, seeing the buds on my tits pushing steadily out to her. "Is my hand exciting you, precious?"

I gulped hard and lowered my eyes with rising shame. "Y-yes, it is, Mother," I said.

"Well now, that's good, that really is. It means there is a lot of life in them. Some girls can't get their nipples hard if they stick them in a block of ice, but with you they stick right out good and hard when I just touch them a little."

She pulled me closer so that my tits fell free from my chest and fell just alongside her face. Her hands softly stroked my shoulders as she twisted her head from side to side, studying my naked tits. Suddenly, to my complete surprise and astonishment, I felt the warm, wet flick of her tongue running over one of my nipples. I gasped out loud.

"Mother!" I cried out. "But what... what do you think you're doing there? My gosh, I mean, do you know what you're doing... it... it's..."

Her eyes flashed strangely and she pulled me back, looking up at me.

"Don't act so foolish, like such an innocent child, my dear. I want to show you how to react, how to loosen up so you will appreciate a man's caresses. I didn't hurt you there when I touched you like that, now did I, darling?"

I shrugged my shoulders, trembling. "N-no, it didn't hurt," I told her, truthfully. The opposite was the case, in fact.

"Well, then, don't pull away from me when I put my tongue against you. I only want to taste the sweetness of your nipples, that's all. So don't be so silly."

I held my breath and tried my best not to jump or pull back as Mother's lips closed over my right nipple a second time. Her tongue felt so warm and exciting as she licked slowly back and forth across the hardened, throbbing bud. I felt her lips tighten and a slow suction begin from deep inside her mouth. The feeling was almost alarmingly exciting to me. I had never known that my tits were capable of such wild sensation. A warm, sexy glow was spreading itself all the way through me, right to the core of my belly and even lower, to the furry cleft between my legs.

Her mouth sucked on my tits for a few moments longer, then lifted away and went to the other one. This time as she began to lick and suck on it, I closed my eyes and surrendered myself completely to the feeling. The warm glow was spreading through even more of me and the tingling between my legs was becoming almost dangerous in its intensity. I moaned several times, uncontrollably.

I felt my mother's hands pulling away from the bottom half of the underwear. I still held them clutched to the front of my crotch. And then her long, warm fingers were moving slowly up and down on my thighs. It was like some strange dream. It couldn't really be happening, I told myself. Her sucking on my tit seemed to become more intense as her fingers touched the pile of furry hair between my legs and began to comb through it. My legs quivered with excitement and I thought my knees were going to buckle in under me.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh!" I sighed loudly, unable to hold back the emotions that swept through me.

Mother pulled her mouth away from my tit and looked up at me with a smile.

"What's the matter with you, my darling? You enjoy it, don't you? Be honest with me now, my darling, be perfectly frank and honest."

"I don't know, Mother. The strangest feelings are going all through me when you do that to me, when you touch me like that."

"But that's only the start of the wonderful feelings you can have, my dear. It's only the very beginning of what a woman can feel when she is taught the right way, how to respond and so forth. I think you are going to shape up just fine, my dear, I can tell that already, I really think I can."

She brought me to the edge of the sofa where she sat and ran her hands slowly up and down the length of my naked body. Her fingertips grazed over the pink cleft in the middle of the furry pile between my legs and a tingling sensation rocketed straight up through my belly. I jerked my legs convulsively and made a gurgling sound in my passion. It made my mother look up at me and smile and nod her head knowingly. She put her hands between my legs, spreading my thighs further apart. She began to massage the outer lips of my hole.

"And how does this feel, my darling?" she said as her fingers pressed at the lips.

I moaned and shivered. I threw my head back and nodded it up and down vigorously.

"Mmmmmmmm, yes, oh yes, Mother, it feels wonderful, wonderful... mmmmmmmm!"

"Now I'm going to put my finger inside you, darling. I don't want you to be frightened. I just want you to relax and let me know how it feels when it's in there, or show me how it feels, which would be even better, darling. I'm hoping that it will feel as good as it should, and that you have no problems with being too cold, or too tight. You must be free and relaxed to appreciate pleasure."

She bent her head closer to my belly as she began to work her finger into the pink-rimmed hole. She murmured something about me not being a baby girl any more. And I heard her say a word I myself had never heard spoken aloud before.

"Cunt," she said. "Oh yes, it's such a beautiful cunt, my darling."

"Oh Mother... God, I don't know what to do, what to say... I never expected this..."

"You have as much hair down here as I do, my dear," she said. "And you're only--how old did you say? Oh yes, sixteen, forgive me, of course I knew. My goodness, by the time you're twenty, no man will be able to resist you, Wendy."

I wasn't listening very closely to what she was saying. I was too busy concentrating on the feel of her finger pushing its way steadily into my cunt, the muscles around the hole resisting at first, but relaxing and loosening as she probed deeper. It allowed her to probe even deeper inside me. It felt good, though strange, and made me nervous, as if I didn't really understand what was going on in my own body.

She gave a slight jerking motion with her finger and suddenly the nerves inside my cunt felt like a rocket had been set off in it. The feeling shot right up to the top of my head and I had to gasp loudly. It was wonderful, and I begged her to do it again.

She chuckled under her breath and jabbed her finger into me in the same way again. Again the feeling shot through me and this time I felt as though I was getting soaking wet down there too.

"You have such a very responsive cunt, my dear," my mother said to me.

I closed my eyes as she did the same movement again and again, the pleasure sweeping all through me now, to every part of my body. Her probing finger was giving me the most wonderful sensations I had ever experienced. I never wanted her to stop doing it.

I ground my hips from side to side, twisting myself on her hand. My thighs opened and closed around her wrist as she thrust and pulled back time and time again. My breath was coming ragged and short in my lungs and soon I found I could not keep from gasping with each thrust. Something very strange was happening inside me. I felt as though my cunt was about to explode. It was as though some great, dammed-up reservoir was about to burst and flood the countryside.

"Oh, ohhhhhhhhh, God, Mother, Mother, mmmmmmmmm, it's beautiful, beautiful, nnnnnnnnnnnn, my cunt, my cunt, my hot cunt!" I found myself screaming. "Ohhhhhhhh, yes, yes, it feels so good, so very, very good! Ayyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

Hardly knowing what was happening, I began to climax. My juices flowed from my cunt and down over my mother's hand as she continued to probe in and out of me. There was no way I would have stopped it now. For what seemed like an eternity my pussy juices ran from my hole and onto the carpet at my mother's feet.

She let me catch my breath after that. Then she pulled me up against her, embracing me and kissing me on the cheek. It was like she was proud of me or something.

I found myself sobbing. Maybe it wasn't the appropriate thing to do, but I felt so confused and mixed-up and at the end of my tether emotionally, that it was just about the only response I could think of just then.

"It's all right, my darling, it's all right, really, I know how you feel," Mother said. She patted me on the back of the head, comforting me in a way, with a tenderness, that I had never known from her as long as I could remember. In these strange circumstances, after such a bizarre intimacy, she had become the loving, tender mother that I had always fantasized I would have, instead of the uncaring, flighty mother that I had in reality had all of this time. So as she starting holding me and hugging me, I held her and hugged her right back, with perhaps twice as much emotion, sobbing and shaking in her arms. I kissed her on the cheek, on the top of the head, and finally met her lips for a long, wet kiss. It was not a kiss that would normally happen between a mother and daughter. It was, I know now, a lover's kiss. Yes, that's right. It sounds strange, doesn't it, Doctor? It should. It still sounds strange to me and I lived through this. My mother and I stared at each other, our eyes wide and moist with lust, our lips open and trembling, my naked body hovering before her. And as we sat there together, both of us knew that something was going on, had gotten out of hand, and that no matter what the consequences were for us emotionally, we were going to go through with what we both knew to be the ultimate conclusion to this encounter. My mother and I were going to become all-out lovers.

She looked up at me once again. And this time I kissed her on the mouth as tightly and as wetly as I could, sliding my tongue into her. She bit down on it, sucking on it. Then she slapped her tongue out against me.

"Oh my darling," she cried. "Oh my darling, beautiful, sexy daughter."

Suddenly, my hands were moving over her body, caressing her, touching her in the same probing, sensual manner than she had done to me a little while earlier. And my mother was responding with almost as much passion as I had done. She seemed to melt in my arms. My hands went down across her back, down to the plump cheeks of her ass. I squeezed on them. She wiggled her hips, shaking the ass at me. I was filled with confusion and passion. I was moving on blind instinct, rolling my hands over my own mother, enjoying the softness, the sexiness of her flesh, her wide hips and her big tits. She rubbed herself hard against me, and I could hear her moaning with rising passion as I caressed her.

"Oooohh, my precious," she whispered. "Your hands feel so nice, so soft and tender as they touch me. Ahh, yes, yes, it's so wonderful..."

We rolled about on the sofa together in a tight embrace for the next minute. Then my mother breathlessly broke away. She heaved for air, clutching at her large bosom.

"I must get these tight clothes off," she said. "I can't breathe with them on. Oh, I'm so hot, so hot, my darling... oh, I want you so badly, from the moment I set eyes on you today, when you came in here looking so sexy, so desirable."

I tried not to hear what she was saying, or tried not to deal with it, in any case. Some part of me, in the back of my brain, told me that this was very, very wrong, but on the surface, my body could not resist what was happening, the incredible urge to make love to my mother, to that lush, fleshy body of hers.

And now she undressed, and she watched me as I watched her. Her eyes were wet and fiery. She peeled her dress down. It was an expensive, one-of-a-kind dress that was cut to show off her voluptuous figure in every way possible. But it didn't exaggerate anything. All of those full, fat curves were hers.

She exposed her tits to me now. I shivered as I saw them. They were of a similar shape to mine, curving out, full and wide, but hers were considerably larger. The nipples were hard and they were about twice as thick and long as mine. She pulled the dress down over her hips. She had panties on underneath, a garter belt and stockings. She stepped out of the dress and then hooked her thumbs under the panties. She stared at me with a lewd expression, her tongue hanging out.

"Now you shall see my pussy, my dear daughter. You shall see my fat, hairy pussy in all its glory. It's so hot and wet now, it's killing me."

She gripped the panties and slid them down. Her thick, curly bush showed itself. I licked my lips and trembled now as she lowered the pants some more, down to her knees. She looked up at me and grinned, wagging her tongue again. Then she pulled the panties the rest of the way off. Then she opened her thighs wider, pulling up on the meat so that I could see it. It was gleaming pink, but dotted with clumps of white foam where she had been secreting in her excitement.

"Isn't it just lovely, darling? So luscious. It's all hot and wet, just waiting for you to lick it all up and make me come."

Again, I heard what she said, and knew what she wanted, but some analytical part of my mind simply closed off so that it would not have to deal with the reality of what she was saying to me, the bizarre nature of it. I only dealt with the facts, you might say. I only registered the fact that she wanted me to lick that fat, luscious pussy of hers, and reacted with the decision that I would do just that.

I moved towards her. She sat back down on the sofa and opened her thighs. The smell of the cunt hit me in the face. I swallowed hard several times, then took a deep breath and moved my face towards her. She must have been impatient with the slow, deliberate way I was going about starting to suck her. The heat and the smell of the cunt was whipped up as she undulated her hips. I opened my mouth widely and pressed it down against my mother's hot pussy.

"Mmmmmmmmm! Oh, oh, yes!" she cried out, smacking her thighs against my head, pressing me in tighter against her crotch. "Ahhhhhhhhh! Yes, oh yes, darling, suck it, suck that fat cunt. Oooooooooohhhhhheeeeeeeeeehhhhhh! Yes, suck it, suck me so hard, darling, make me come, please make me come, I want to come, mmmmmmmmmmmm!"

I ran my tongue all through the undulating, quivering meat. The heat of it was amazing, like an open fire. I mashed my lips up and down, kissing and biting at the hot, tantalizing meat of her aroused pussy.

"Ayyyyyyyyy! Suck me, darling, suck it out, suck up all of that juice, yes, yes, ohhhhhhhh, that's wonderful, wonderful! Gaaaaaaaaaaa!"

I lifted my tongue up to her clitoris and wiped it all around that throbbing band of flesh. I was going partly on instinct, and partly on what I remembered her doing to me just a few minutes earlier.

"Nnnnnnnn! Yes, yes, my darling, now you're sucking on my clit, ooooooohh, that's very nice, very nice, oh yes, suck it, suck it, gaaaaaaaaaa, don't stop that, it feels so very nice, Wendy, oh yes, that's a very nice spot... ayyyyyyyyyy! You're going to make me come, oh, you angel, yes, yes, yes, suck it!"

And I sucked it, lashing my tongue out, rolling it all over, up and down, sliding it through her, pushing as deep as I could go, then wiping up the new layers of froth that would seep down out of her and into my mouth.

Her legs shot into the air, stretching out, then curling around my head, her heels kicking at my back. She pulled me in tighter, deeper. I felt like my whole head had fallen into my mother's convulsing pussy. I moved my tongue back from the clitoris again and again, sliding into the hole once more. I would shoot my tongue up deep inside her, as far as I could, till my tongue was straining from the pressure of. it. I know from what I've read that lesbian lovemaking should be soft and beautiful and all that, but we were quite the opposite. There was real violent passion going on within us. My mother began bucking so hard that I could hardly control her. She threatened to knock me flying back from her several times, with at least a broken jaw if I hadn't moved at the right moment. But I was quickly learning the tricks of cuntsucking, knowing where to maneuver my tongue, knowing when to speed up the movements of my tongue, and when to slow them down, or hold my tongue rigid inside her. And I learned what to do with the clitoris, to know how much pleasure was centered in that little band of flesh, and to know that you could go too far there and make it sore, even make the pleasure lock somehow, when you went too far. I learned it all there, that day in the living room of my house, at the cunt of my own mother. I learned things that I will never forget. That's funny, in a way. I learned things, I did things, that I can never forget, no matter how much I want to forget them. I don't know if it's sick. You'd have to tell me that, Doctor. That's what I'm here for, after all. I want to know how I can live with what has happened. You want me to finish? Of course, you want the last dirty detail, Doctor, is that it? I'll tell you. I've told you this much, so why should I hold back now. There isn't much more, actually. Only that I kept sucking that hot cunt till my mother spewed hot and sticky froth over my face. And she started to scream at me that she was really coming now.

"Ohhhhhhhh, yes, yes, that's it, suck it, suck that cunt, aaaaahhhhhh! It feels so good, my darling, oh, oh, yes, you suck it so well, so well, mmmmmmmmm, you learn so quickly, it's beautiful, beautiful! Unnnggggggggg!"

She bucked more wildly than ever then. I writhed with her, holding on, like a cowboy being bucked by a bronco. She didn't throw me off. Like she said, I had learned quickly. You could say that I had a good teacher, of course, one who knew how to get just what she wanted, no matter how degrading it might be, no matter how perverse in the eyes of the rest of the world. If it was something that had struck her fancy then she would take it, no matter what the consequences. Even if she wanted her own daughter she would take her. It didn't matter what it did to me, what aftereffects there might be from it. That was someone else's problem, right? Sure, that's right. I'm the one seeing a Doctor, not her.

Well, anyway, that was it. I kept sucking her till she had had enough and begged me to stop. She pushed my head away from her burning loins.

"Enough, darling. Oh my, that was wonderful. You really were superb," my mother said.

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say or what to think.


CONCLUSION

This was an interesting case. Wendy made an ironic point that I found to have a great deal of validity. Perhaps she shouldn't have been the patient, perhaps it should have been that mother of hers. Wendy explained that her mother was not particularly impressed by what she had done with her daughter. It was just another act of pleasure she had committed, one of many that she did every day, almost as if she worked at it. Wendy explained that her mother stayed exactly one night. The two of them did not make love again, because her mother went out to see her new lover, Ricardo, who was staying at a hotel in the city. That night Wendy lay in bed thinking about what she had done. I hesitate to say she was blowing things out of proportion in this case, since it is an extreme example of incest. I do not believe I have ever read in any of the thousands of medical journals in my library, which includes every volume on abnormal sexual behavior ever published in English and German, any case of mother and daughter incest. What makes it even more intriguing is the fact that, despite the mother being the initiator to this act, she seems to have been entirely unmoved by it. She claimed some odd reason for what she had done, something to the effect of teaching her daughter how to respond. This is obviously nonsense. The mother first claimed to be teaching her daughter how to act with a man, and then suddenly was showing her exactly the opposite: how to respond to the caresses of another woman, and then how to deliver those same caresses. It will take a great deal of therapy for Wendy to recover from the lingering shock of her mother's behavior. But she is a bright, healthy girl, and I think that I see a full recovery in her future. Perhaps not tomorrow, but eventually she will be able to see past what her mother has done and put it in perspective.


CASE HISTORY FIVE SUBJECT: Tina P.

AGE: Sixteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Tina is a lovely teenaged girl with light brown hair and an adorable body. Her personality is such that one cannot help liking her almost instantaneously upon meeting her. It was exactly that way between us, and I was certainly surprised to hear the details of her case. I have heard more shocking stories in my career, I suppose, but never from someone who seemed so sweet and innocent. I could hardly believe that such a girl had gone through something as sordid as the adventure she was to describe to me.

* * *

I want to tell you one thing right at the start, Doctor. I don't want any of this to sound like I'm blaming my sister for what happened. It's not like that, you understand? Nobody kidnapped me, nobody drugged me and forced me to do it. I did it because it was happening, you know, and my sister was there, and, sure, she let it happen, she said it was all right. But she didn't force me. I did it because I wanted to, I guess. I wanted to seem older, more experienced, like I had done everything and nothing shocked me. Ha. It might shock you, though, Doctor. I don't know what kind of stories you're used to hearing but I don't think you've heard many of them like this. Would you believe a person's own sister would act as a kind of pimp, would set up her sister to make it with the girl's own boyfriend? It does sound strange, but that's what my sister did. Maybe if she really just never had the idea, or if she never did anything about it, then none of this would have happened. But I still say that I was a willing participant. I let it happen. And, Jesus, it sure did happen, all right. Wait till I tell you.

My sister had moved out of the house a couple of years ago. She's five years older than me, but she's always acted like it was a ten-year difference. I don't know if that was just an act, or if she really was as mature as she liked for people to think. Anyway, she left home and then she could really cut loose as an adult. And from everything I hear, she did a good job of it. She was always being seen with a new guy, sometimes a different one each night. My parents were obviously shamed by the reputation she was getting in our small town. But I was secretly admiring her and wishing that I could have some of the fun she was undoubtedly having. I had a boyfriend, of course, and was having sex a couple of nights a week, but that all seemed so tame in comparison to what my imagination told me my sister was up to. As kids we had never gotten along too well. But when we saw each other nowadays, she seemed to get more friendly. She told me that I had grown up to be a really pretty girl, and bet that all the guys at school were after my pussy. I giggled when she put it that way. I had never spoken like that to anyone older. Of course, at school, among my friends, we all cursed and tried to shock each other, but to speak that way in front of an adult, and a member of one's family was outrageous. But then I realized that it was part of June, my sister's way of loosening up the relationship between us. I realized too that what she wanted was for us to stop being big sister and little sister and for us to be friends. Well, when that really finally happened, I can tell you I was shocked and envious by the things my sister told me she had done. All the rumors and my own imagination hardly compared with the reality. Among other adventures she had had, she told me she had been going to one of those on-premises sex clubs in a nearby city. She told me that it was a wonderful and liberating experience to go there.

"Honey, you can't imagine. You go there and you take off your clothes. Then you walk around and let all the guys there look at you. And some of them come over and touch you. They pat you on the ass and rub your tits. And some will come up in front of you, and they'll be naked too, and they'll rub their cock against your stomach and your pussy, and maybe whisper something to you, tell you that they'd like to see you later in the play room. And some of them you go and see later, and they fuck you and suck your cunt, and it's beautiful, honey, really."

I would sit there while she told me all this, my mouth open, hardly believing what she was saying. I tried to picture my sister doing what she said, walking around in the nude in one of these clubs, letting the naked men paw at her. It made me shiver, and made my own pussy tingle and itch so much that I had to keep crossing and recrossing my legs as I sat there listening. If I hadn't been so inhibited I probably should have pulled my panties down and stuck my fingers into my cunt and jerked off while my sister told me of her sexual adventures.

"Sometimes," she said, "I might go into the whirlpool bath and be there with lots of other guys and girls; And we start moving together, our naked bodies touching, making ourselves quiver and tingle. And somebody will get turned on. And the girls will start reaching down under the water to feel stiff cocks and jerk them off or else fit them under their ass. Oh, that's good, too. You could sit there on a guy with his prick going in and out of you from behind, while the water moves around you, warm and foamy, everybody smiling at each other."

She told me more about those places on other occasions. Each time she would get even more explicit than the time before. I guess I had an indication of where all this was leading to, but I was still too young and naive to guess. The fact was she was grooming me, getting me ready so that I could join her in her swinging activities. I don't know how conscious an act it was on her part, or if she was subconsciously getting a cheap thrill out of telling her own sister of her sexual activities. But whatever, the fact is she got me to the point where I was dying to join her at one of those places, and I finally told her so.

She laughed. "So you want to go with me, do you? Jesus, honey, you're only sixteen, remember? I don't think they'd even let you in there, they'd be so afraid of the police. But if they did let you in," she said, laughing again, "some of those guys would probably start coming the moment they got a look at you. They don't get such tender jailbait pussy there very often, you know."

"I could get dressed up, make myself look like I was older,' don't you think, June?" I asked her. Her doubts only made me want to go there more.

"Yeah, it's possible. They might just let you in anyway. But I think that you better start a little slower. You might not be ready for the full swing club bit just yet. We'll start you out with something simpler. I've got a friend, his name is Johnny, and he'll be a good teacher for you. He'll show you how to have nice, impersonal sex. And I'll be there watching the two of you. And then maybe I'll join in if I feel like it. How does that sound?" Well, of course it sounded absolutely weird. Me having sex with some guy while my sister watched us, and then possibly joining us for a threesome? It wasn't the sort of offer of a night's entertainment every sister made to her younger sister. But I was not going to let her know I felt that way. I wanted to try something like this, and I didn't know when I would get another chance for a long time.

"Yeah, June," I said. "Yeah, that sounds real good. Let's do it."

"All right, dear. I'll set things up with Johnny. He'll love it, I'm sure."

"Do you... do you think that I'll enjoy it, Sis?" I asked her, a momentary bit of nervousness creeping into my voice as I questioned her.

"Sure, you'll just love it," she told me. "Every fucking minute of it.

INTERVIEW TWO

I realized that Tina's was another case of a young, impressionable girl being led astray by an older, amoral influence. But it was also obvious that the girl herself was anxious to experience something that the majority of society might see as perverse. This is also a common case. Girls Tina's age constantly go through a rebellious phase. In Tina's case her rebellion seems to have centered around sexual experimentation. The problem with this was that she was simply too young and immature to deal with what she got herself into. You will see just what she got herself into as she continues her story in our second interview.

* * *

The three of us stood around the room looking at each other. There was a lot of tension in that room, I can tell you for a fact, Doctor. Then my sister put her arms on her hips and smiled at me and said, "Well, come on, you two, this ought to be very interesting watching you go at it. Stop wasting so much time in staring at each other. The fight should begin. Get your cocks and cunts out."

Johnny laughed at that. Then he sneered at me. He was a tall, good-looking guy, around thirty I would say. He didn't act very friendly, but then this was not supposed to be a social call, I realized. He was there to fuck me, while June watched us, and eventually joined in with us.

Johnny started unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. He edged over to me and grabbed hold of me, quickly running his hands over my tits and ass. I shivered excitedly as I felt his strong hands on me and smelled his strong, sweaty, masculine stench. On a sudden impulse I took the initiative and while he was standing there beside me I swung a hand round to his crotch, squeezing in on his cock and then kissing him wetly on the lips. I pushed my tongue down his throat and wiped it around, licking up some of his saliva... He gasped and his hands embraced my bottom and squeezed on the plump cheeks. I moved my tongue out of his mouth and slid it along to his left ear, pushing it inside and wiping it around as erotically as I could.

Johnny shivered and said, "Jesus, this chick is red hot, baby. She takes right after you, I guess, huh?" He and my sister both laughed.

"Give it to her, Johnny," my sister said. "She wants it real bad, so you give it to her, the works, just like you've done to me, you know."

I massaged his crotch and soon began to feel a real throbbing bulge there. I squeezed on the enlarging prick and tried to work it back and forth through his trousers. He groaned and pawed me. He ground his groin against my caressing fingers. He panted and mumbled obscenities.

"Come on," I whispered at him harshly. "I want your cock. I want to see that big, fat prick of yours that my sister told me so much about."

My hand glided along his chest, down to his zipper. I slowly drew the metal clasp down, slid my hand inside the fly and gripped his dick. I pushed through the underwear and finally touched the meat itself. It felt very warm, like it had just come out of an oven. I twisted it around and pulled on it and drew it out of his pants. It hung out and bobbed from side to side before rising up completely, stiff and glorious, bright red, glowing, throbbing, glistening lines of sperm trailing from the thick, knobbed head. I touched my finger to the little folds of skin at the tip and wiped off some of his come. I brought the finger up to my mouth and licked at it. The sperm tasted very sexy. His cock bounced about wildly until I gripped it firmly and stroked it up and down several times. I pushed my grip down till I could feel his hairy balls underneath. My sister stood by watching us, a smile on her face, nodding her head up and down.

"That's it, that's it, oh it looks marvelous. My little sister. She's all grown up now, isn't she? I knew she would work out just fine. Beautiful!"

He leaned over me now and grabbed at my titties. He pulled my t-shirt out of my jeans and raised it up till my titties were out in the open. I looked down at them and felt a thrill as I saw my big titties and the red nipples sprouting tautly. And then he crushed his face against them and began sucking away, tugging the nipples between his lips and using his teeth on them for several wonderful long moments. He moved his tongue all around the fat, swollen ends, while his hands lifted the full weight of them, lifting them up into his mouth. He munched on the soft flesh, and his tongue continued to play with the nipples.

I groaned at him loudly, yelling, "Ohhhhhhh, suck them, suck them, suck my fat, hot titties, Johnny, mmmmmmmm, that feels so good!"

"Ha, ha!" my sister laughed. "You listen to the girl, Johnny! Listen good!"

His fingers clawed at my jeans now. I stroked his cock, staring down at it and feeling a surge of excitement each time I did. It was a beautiful cock, larger than any I'd ever seen. The shaft was enormous, so thick I could hardly get my fingers around it. He had my zipper down by now and started peeling my jeans down my legs. I helped him, and together we exposed my pussy. He pulled on my cunt hair down there and stuck his finger down into my meat.

"Yeah, that's it, Johnny," my sister called out. "Go for that hot cunt of hers, let her feel those meaty fingers of yours going in and out of her hole!"

I opened my legs and let him move in deeper. I closed my thighs against his hairy, large hand and nearly fell over from the dizzying pressure that washed over me. I pumped his cock faster and faster. His sperm drooled down over my fingers. He pushed his hand in deeper and I opened my thighs a bit to let him slip his fingers up inside and twist them around and around in tight circles. I looked over at my sister and now saw her lowering her slacks. Her great hairy bush hung out, the hairs nearly standing on end, straight and silky. She pushed her rigid left hand right through the hairy bush and into her cunt. She twisted and turned the fingers with a violent motion. She gasped and licked at her lips as she stared ahead, watching us maneuver.

"Oh, go to it, you two, don't stop, I love it, I love every moment of it!"

Johnny's cock expanded in my hand. Hot and sticky sperm flowed down. I squeezed up and down. His fingers were churning in my pussy at the same time. He arched his thumb up so that it touched my clitoris. At the first sign of this pressure I tensed, then gasped and shivered as waves of pleasure flowed over me. My cream sprayed out over his fingers.

Wide-eyed, my sister watched us, moving her hand up and down through her cunt as she did, shivering slightly, building herself to an inevitable climax.

Johnny's cock shook in my hand. He was close to coming and the way he was shaking his head, and his body was twisting I knew it would be close at hand if I kept up like that. But I kept on stroking him, and he kept on massaging my pussy in that fabulous way, touching my clit with his thumb, making warm, strong waves of pleasure rush up all through me.

"Suck her, darling," my sister cried out. "Oh, go on and suck that girl's beautiful cunt. Suck up all of her hot spew, oh, yes, yes, it's beautiful!"

I moaned in agreement, grabbing him by the arm and swinging him in front of me. I urged him to his knees before me. I ripped my jeans down lower with my other arm. I lifted my pussy up to his face. I screamed at him to suck it. I felt his nose against my clit and I screamed. I held him there tight and writhed around him, my whole body vibrating with pleasure. I bathed his face with a strong flow of my sticky spew. His tongue licked it up, moving it fast all through me. He stayed there for a couple of minutes, until I couldn't stand any more and had to push him away from me.

Then it was time for him to fuck me. He stripped off his clothes. His cock looked bigger than ever now that he was naked. I licked my lips excitedly and undulated my hips, opening my legs wide, my cunt reaching up, stretching tautly in anticipation of what it was just about to be fed. It was quite a lunch, throbbing wildly at the moment, all sweetened with dripping, burning come.

"Fuck her, fuck her!" my sister cried out. "Fuck that hot cunt, Johnny!"

And he moved over me and shot his prick right into my cunt without a moment's hesitation. He jammed it in deep and circled it around and around, driving me mad with lust. The pleasure started at once and built up higher and faster. He drilled the whole cock into me and then started shifting it in and out, pumping faster and faster through me, making me scream and beg for more. I loved it. It was nothing like when I had fucked with some of the boys from school. They hardly knew what they were doing most times, and we had to be so secretive, and it just wasn't sexy. In this case, aside from Johnny's wonderful cock and the way he used it, the whole atmosphere reeked of illicit, erotic sex. I mean, after all, my sister was right there watching us, for God's sake!

He pumped in and out, again and again, digging that thick cock through me like there was no tomorrow. Every stroke lit me up, the fire burning brighter and brighter, hotter, consuming me in its flames. I shook like a wild animal. I held my eyes closed as the pressure of the pleasure got too intense. But I could hear my sister in the background, laughing and calling to us, shouting obscene words of encouragement. Johnny would mutter something back at her in between his own gasps of rising passion.

I wasn't really expecting my sister to move up next to us as she did. And then I saw her standing there, completely naked, her fingers jammed deep inside her cunt, working away like a crazy woman at her undulating meat. And what happened next was probably the weirdest part of all, Doctor. My sister climbed up over me and straddled my head. And then she sank down onto my face with her open, oozing pussy, covering my face with it. I could hardly breathe as that heat filled my senses. She cried at me to suck her hot pussy.

"Go on, Sis, suck it, suck me out, suck me dry! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! I'm so hot, so hot, ohhhhhhhhh, yes, yes, suck me! Don't wait, do it now!"

And then I did it. I slid my tongue into her open cunt and started licking at it. And it tasted good, the spew running down into my mouth, and the quivering, burning meat. I feasted on my own sister's cunt, as she twisted and wiggled her ass over me in a fantastic, erotic dance.

And all the while, Johnny was bringing me to a climax below, fucking away like his life depended on it. I could hear his cries, and feel the way his prick was swelling out, letting me know that he was about to come. And so was I. Pleasure swelled up all around me, filling my body, making me want to burst.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" I screamed into my sister's cunt. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"

And then Johnny stabbed his prick deeper than ever, grinding it around and around against me, cutting me like his prick was a knife. And then his cock began to explode, shooting the come deep inside me, all through me. I felt it whizzing through my cunt, and swore I could feel it rising through the rest of my body.

And then my sister cried that she was also coming. And my tongue stayed inside her, digging deeper all the time, and her spew flew down over my face.

It was an incredible session, Doctor, you should have been there.


CONCLUSION

I began to make this young woman see that her sister was a bad influence on her. I explained that she was trying to rebel against her parent's attitudes by imitating the more intriguing example of her sister. Tina was such a delightful girl that I felt sure she would not need much counseling to see her error.


CASE HISTORY SIX

SUBJECT: Susie Q. AGE: Sixteen

INTERVIEW ONE

Susie is a young blonde. Her charming, serene features illustrate the simplicity and innocence of her personality. It is, unfortunately, a far from innocent world out there, and Susie had to experience this at first-hand. She had been looking for a job recently. Only a job. Like most people she needed to earn money, but she was not interested in sacrificing her principles in exchange for a good job. Or so she thought. This case illustrates the sad fact that all of us have our price, or can be convinced that something obviously wrong is acceptable practice.

* * *

I had gone out to this big house in the countryside. The small employment agency I had seen told me that they were looking for a maid. Since I had never had any experience except in doing housework, a maid's job seemed like the one things I could honestly claim to be experienced at. Frankly, I was too frightened and nervous to try something else out. I had this thing about rejection. I couldn't bear for someone to tell me I wasn't good enough for something, wasn't sufficiently qualified or whatever. But I did need to get a job. I felt the maid's job was the one that I stood the best chance of getting, so I went for it. Qualified or not, I still felt awfully nervous as I got out of the taxi at the front gates to that big mansion. There were woods all around. The gate itself seemed to stretch off out of sight. The grounds inside seemed endless. You could only see part of the main house from there. The woods hid most of it. I rang a bell there by the gate and waited a few seconds before I heard a buzz and a voice. I was startled. I hadn't expected to hear someone talking to me out of nowhere like that.

"Yes, what is it? State your name and business, please?" the voice said.

I gave the voice my name and said, "I have an appointment to see the owner about the job as maid, please. They sent me from the agency in town."

"Please wait there one moment," I was told. "We will check with Mr. Baxter."

So I waited there, my nervousness increasing. I hoped I would be accepted. I tried to remember what the man at the agency had said they were looking for. A hard worker, for one thing. Someone who could be trusted. And then he had smiled and said they were looking for somebody who was young and good-looking. I remember I blushed, and blushed again when he said I would fit the final category just fine.

A voice came back on the intercom near the fence and said, "All right, you can come through. The gate will unlock in a moment. Proceed to the front door."

There was another buzzing sound and the gate slid open. I went through and a few seconds later it slid closed again. I gulped. It was almost as if you were a prisoner in there. I walked along the road that wound its way up to the big house. The closer I got the more impressive the place seemed. It was more like some building in a city, or a huge hotel or something, rather than a single residence.

The front door had a huge knocker on it. I lifted it and let it drop against the door two times. After a few seconds the door was opened by a butler. He regarded me coldly and motioned for me to follow him. We went through a grand hallway and up to a huge oaken door which he knocked lightly upon. Then he opened it slightly, poked his head inside, mumbled something, then backed up and motioned me to go in. I was almost trembling with nerves now as I passed him and entered the room. He closed the door behind me. I looked out. The room was a big one. It was basically a library, with tall bookcases everywhere, and a second floor with still more shelves of books. There was also a couch, a couple of leather chairs, and a big wooden desk behind which a man was sitting.

He was looking down at something on his desk when I entered the room. I could only see the bald top of his head and the ring of black hair surrounding it. Then he looked up at me. He was in his forties, I would say. He had on wire-rimmed eyeglasses. He looked very serious. Well, as it turned out, he was serious, all right, but not quite in the way that I was thinking just then.

"How do you do," he said. "Come over here and take a seat, please. My name is Mr. Baxter. May I call you Susie?"

"Yes, of course," I told him.

"Fine. You may call me Mr. Baxter," he said. His eyes were roving all over me while he was talking. I got very self-conscious, and I could feel myself blushing. I was kind of sensitive about references to my looks, or to sex. I guess I'm a pretty enough girl, but I have this problem with shyness.

"How badly do you want this job I'm prepared to offer you, Susie?" he asked.

I cleared my throat and jerked my head up and down nervously. "Oh, I... I would like it very much, Mr. Baxter. Um, yes, I really would..." I couldn't think of anything else to say to him. Did he want me to beg for it? Well, at that point, I was feeling so high-strung, and afraid of not getting the job, I probably would have gotten right down on my hands and knees and begged for it. As it turned out, I did something similar, though even more degrading.

"You'd do anything for it then? Are you saying that or aren't you, girl?"

"Anything?" I said, gulping. "I... I don't know, Mr. Baxter. I didn't think of it quite like that, you know. Um, I suppose I am, within reason."

"Oh, yes," he said, smirking now, the first emotion he had shown on his heretofore blank face. "Yes, I think this would be very reasonable."

"Well, in that case, sir, I'm sure there would be no problem at all."

"I said that I think this would be reasonable. I'm not so sure if you would."

Now I felt myself blushing again. What was he talking about? I wondered. He had something strange on his mind, but he wouldn't come out with it. He stared at me for another minute, smirking, licking at his lips. Then he nodded.

"Well, my dear, you would seem to be a perfect candidate for the job. But every female that comes to work here has one obligation besides her regular duties."

"What would that be, Mr. Baxter?" I asked him, tingling with nervousness.

"You must... how shall we put it? Service me? Yes, that's a good word. You must satisfy my sexual needs whenever I give you the word."

Now I sat back, slightly stunned. I wasn't really expecting anything so blatant, despite the smirking and the way he took his time making the point. So that was why the employment agent had acted so funny, like there was some joke he knew about the job that he wasn't telling me. That was it. Whoever took the job had to fuck with the boss in order to keep it.

"Now, my dear, before you get yourself in an uproar, and think that I'm being unreasonable, I should point out that your salary will be appropriate to your extra special duties. When I write this figure down on a piece of paper, I want you to tell me if it isn't being generous." He wrote something down and slipped it across the desk to me. I was too nervous and ashamed to go for it, but I finally did lean forward and look at the number he had written down. I gulped. I couldn't believe it. I came from a poor family, where money like that really meant something, where it was unattainable no matter what you were willing to do for it. I looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"Y-you're going to pay me that much a month?" I asked him.

"A month? No, that would be your weekly salary. Before taxes."

I shuddered. I couldn't believe it. It was just too unreal. Here I had come on this interview hoping to get some small job, something, until I felt confident enough to look for something better. And now I was being offered more than I could ever have hoped to make at any other job.

"Well, what do you say, my dear?" Mr. Baxter asked, his hand slipping down to the front of his pants and lightly touching his zipper.

"I... I don't know... I don't know what to say, Mr. Baxter."

"Well, why don't we start by me giving you this check here... a week's salary in advance." He pushed a presigned check towards me. Then he clutched his zipper and pulled it down. I watched incredulously as he fished out his thick, throbbing, meaty prick. He shook it from side to side and then slapped the tip of it across the top of his desk. I was frozen with incredulity. He reached for the check again and waved that with one hand while he waved his prick with the other. I looked from one thing to the other and wondered what on earth I was going to do.


INTERVIEW TWO

I had Susie continue from, where she had left off in our first interview. I was certainly anxious to hear what decision she had made, though I could guess she had not suffered her recent depression over having turned this loathsome Mr. Baxter down.

* * *

I moved around behind the desk and he swerved his chair to face me. The cock had grown some more in the meantime. It was now a thick, swollen hunk of meat, standing up nearly straight in the air and throbbing violently. I stared at it for nearly a minute, blinking and licking my lips. He didn't act impatient. Now that he knew I was going to go through with it, he was enjoying himself fully. That stem personality he had exhibited at first was now turning into something a little looser.

At last I licked my lips and moved closer to him. I took hold of the cock around the bottom of its thick length. I squeezed on it. I felt the heaving life in it. The muscle swelled out against my grip. I pumped him up and down a few times and I heard him moan as I did.

"That's lovely," he said to me, reaching down with his free hand and patting me on the top of my head. His fingers tangled in my long hair, and then he gripped the back of my head, pulling my face closer to his throbbing prick. He made my lips touch the head of it. I felt the damp head crackle as the drooling sperm touched my lips. I opened my mouth to that thick, mushroom-shaped head, and swallowed it up. It felt so warm and so alive that it took my breath away, and for the first time I felt something more than excitement or shame or surprise. I felt lust. I could feel my own pussy starting to get damp and warm, tingling when I moved my thighs back and forth even momentarily. I was afraid to let him notice that I was becoming aroused. I didn't know what he would make of that, and I was too nervous to let him go ahead and take this thing to its logical end and let him fuck me.

So I concentrated on the sucking. I sucked up some more of the meat, pushing down to the base of it. I didn't think I could get all of that inside me, but I was going to give it a good try. More and more of the throbbing meat went down my throat. A couple of times I thought I would gag on it. I swallowed at the wrong moment and felt my insides quivering. But I kept at it, and I soon had the rhythm I wanted, and was able to rise and fall on that thick, throbbing stick. And I was loving it. I was still trying to keep my own passionate response from Mr. Baxter, but it was becoming more and more difficult. My cunt was alive now, blazing with pleasure.


CONCLUSION

Susie's main problem, as I saw it, was guilt over her actions. A corrupt individual had literally bribed her into having sex with him, and this has weighed heavily on her conscience. I am hoping to help her recover from the mild trauma that her regretted actions have caused.


The End
