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Hey there, say there.
My name's Faye and this is what I let several men to do to me during 2
½ days in 2002. And I LIKED it. But first of all, I want to tell you
that it's okay if you skip the part about me and go to the dirty
part. I understand. No, really!
=========
...Thank you for still being here with me. I'm uploading this because,
well, what else can I do? I can't print copies and send them as
Christmas cards to my friends
...because I don't HAVE any friends.
What I DO have is have autism, which means that I don't like talking
to people. Even being in the mall makes me feel confused and upset
because of all the noise and confusion.
It also means that people think I'm really strange (though I'm not
sure exactly how). I feel like I'm just "me", but people see me as
being impolite, emotionless, abrupt, naive, inappropriate,
disturbingly "intense" (whatever that means), shockingly direct, far
too trusting, boringly matter-of-factual, and utterly tactless.
By the way, if it matters, I have medium-to-short very dark brown hair
which I used to dye lighter, am 32 now (but this happened when I was
27), weigh about 145, and am 5'11". I know I'm "cute", but like being
"smart", that's just another reason for people to be jealous and hate
you.
I have degrees in computers and astronomy but quit my job at the
nuclear engineering company in 2002 after I told a coworker what I did
over the three-day weekend, because it was SO exciting and sexy. But
instead of thinking it was sexy too, she didn't say anything. Then I
found out she told everybody else, and they all treated me with scowls
and weird looks, so I just WALKED OUT and never went to another job
again. How I live without working is another story. I'll tell you
after the main story. Speaking of which...
IF YOU SKIPPED THAT BORING STUFF TO GET TO THE "DIRTY" PART, OKAY,
HERE IT IS
I only had sex once before, with a guy in high school who was probably
autistic too (Dave). He was an extreme "nerd", with no friends). He
had been my chem. lab partner the previous year. We didn't date or
kiss or even smile. He just asked me after school one day waiting for
the bus in the media center if I would like to try doing it, since he
never did and I guess he figured I didn't either. We just went in the
woods behind GHS and took off our clothes, but didn't talk. It was
like some kind of serious "procedure".
We each explored the other person's body (I don't have any siblings
and he didn't have a sister and I never saw a naked guy before). So
THIS was a dick! Wow, and that must be where he was circumcised. Coo-
well! It really does have a little "head", and I guess that hole is
where they pee and cum comes out. And the "scrotum", it looked like
the skin on it was made of a big dried apricot with hair. And in the
sack, there were two little THINGS in there, like grapes: wow, those
were his BALLS! God DAMN! I stroked them like they were magical, to
be worshipped. That made his dick twitch.
I lay on my back and he examined me between my legs. He licked his
fingers and put one in my cunt and my asshole at the same time, pushed
his fingertips together and pulled real hard. It hurt but I forced
myself not to move. He sucked my clit REAL hard until it hurt, but I
didn't move then either. He pinched my vulva lips hard too, and bit
my nipples, and sucked on them real, real hard until blood came under
the surface. He probably didn't know how much he was hurting me as I
was being explored and examined, but I liked it because I liked him,
and was being obedient.
When it was my turn to look at his dick I licked it, and smiled at
him, but his eyes were closed. I asked if I could suck it, and he
nodded. It tasted strange, like salty skin. Everything else I ever
put in my mouth was to eat. The skin was loose, like on a chicken's
neck. It felt soft on the outside but hard near the center, like it
had a soft bone in it. I guess I was expecting it to be isotropic,
like a popsicle.
And it was hot.
I sucked on the head and I licked the clit part at the bottom of the
head with my tongue, which made him moan and start thrusting it into
the back of my throat. I was so proud that I had done that for him,
given him so much pleasure, and in such a crude, obscene way. As he
thrusted into my face, I was aware that suddenly I wasn't doing
something for ME or even doing something for HIM, but my mouth and
head were just female body parts being used by his thrusting dick for
his own pleasure as his balls were slapping against my chin
When he told me to lie on my back, I didn't want him to take his dick
out of my mouth and I tried to keep it in, but he took it out anyway.
I squeezed my lips on it as it passed through them to get every last
moment of this glorious dick-suck experience that I could.
I laid on my back on my pile of clothes and felt SOO excited. I
opened my legs really fast and held them as wide as I could with my
feet slightly off the ground. I could feel sticky-bush stems pushing
against my ass, hurting me. I leaned my head back, looked up at the
sky, and waited to be fucked. I also liked that feeling of lying with
my legs open, silently and obediently waiting to be fucked. I would
have patiently waited for hours.
Very serious-looking, he got on top and then Dave fucked me. I had
heard it hurt the first time but except for stretching a little, it
didn't, maybe cause I explore myself so much from being curious. We
never even thought to use protection, which is strange. Neither of
us made any noise or moaned like in the videos. We didn't look at
each other or talk. I didn't cum but I liked being fucked. It was
like a revelation. It made me feel happy and loved, and I pretended
he was my boyfriend. Mom had always told me it was a dirty and
horrible experience but now knew she was lying to me. I still don't
know why.
He cummed into me silently, then put on his clothes without saying
anything and left me lying there alone, naked in the woods.
It was PERFECT.
I was lying there alone, full of his cum. It was running out of me
slowly and I watched it do that for the longest time, fascinated.
Since I began having sex feelings I have been fascinated by my cunt,
but never as mush as seeing it with cum dripping out after being
fucked for the first time. That image will be with me forever.
I had never even seen a close-up picture of cum; I thought it would be
grey and watery, but it was thick and white. I smelled it and was
surprised that it has a slight odor, and I tasted it, tentatively.
Sticky! Then I use two fingers to scoop a lot of it out and ate it.
I reached my fingers in as deep as I could and scooped it out and into
my mouth again and again until there wasn't any more of his cum left
inside me, not because I liked the taste but because it was HIS:
DAVID'S SPERM had come from DAVID' BALLS and he pumped it into my cunt
with DAVID'S DICK when DAVID FUCKED me and I was NAKED.
I wanted to be OWNED by David.
That's what I was thinking as I masturbated until I cummed too, with
his sticky "yick" all on my face and fingers and in my mouth. I lay
there naked for about 15 minutes more, then masturbated again, tasting
his sperm. I had also rubbed it all over my face and in my ears, and
it was beginning to dry. I left his cum on my face until I took a
shower the next morning, and I was SO sorry to have to wash it off.
To me, it was like an invisible badge of ownership... and it had come
from his BALLS!
Even though it was getting dark, I didn't want to put on my clothes.
I sat there for about an hour, just looking around and thinking. I
wanted another boy to discover me there, naked. I thought about what I
would do. Would I take his dick out of his pants and start sucking it
without ever saying anything? I lay on my back with my legs open and
my eyes closed and pretended there was someone there and I was waiting
for him to use me. When it occurred to me that a GANG of boys might
find me, mean ones, I masturbated for a third time. I didn't want to
put on my clothes. I wanted to be dirty and naughty and obscene and
smeared with cum and lewd and bad and fucked and naked FOREVER.
The next day, I was excited at the prospect of seeing him and watched
the door for him to come in to the class we had. When he did come in
my heart raced, but he didn't look at me. I thought we would be
friends and maybe eat lunch together or maybe even go to McDonald's or
something. I would even pay for mine myself. I smiled at him twice,
hoping he would be my friend now. But he avoided me because he was
embarrassed, so I figured I'd be embarrassed too and (literally) never
talked to him again. That was all right, I guess. I mean, it was
okay. It made me kind of sad, though.
That's the closest I ever got to having a boyfriend. Other than that,
I never went out on a date, even in college. When guys were friendly
in college, they were much more direct and it scared the hell out of
me. They'd put their arm around me when just talking someone's dorm
room about something unrelated, like there was this secondary,
unspoken parallel context, which was SO creepy.
I felt confused because I didn't know exactly what to say, and I have
this HUGE history of people getting mad when I said stuff (any
stuff), so I always pretended like I didn't understand that they
wanted to kiss me and climb on me. Sometimes I had to push them away
and get upset and leave. Plus I hate the idea of being kissed or held
or talked to or even looked at, because sex is embarrassing and weird
and creepy and scary, and it reminds me of being a mother and a
grandmother and evolution and the galaxy and the monolith and death.
I bet you didn't know that "2001" was really a metaphor for puberty.
Yup! The blast on the moon was first masturbation, Jupiter was a
girl, and Hal's "secret" was knowledge that there's a hidden purpose
to life that little kids don't know. Poole was one way of dealing
with it, and Bowman was the other. And the stargate was... a CUNT. If
you enter it and ride to the end, there's an explosion, which starts a
whole new universe... a new life.
I have always chosen the Poole way, the wrong way. I chickened out; I
let Hal beat me at chess. For instance, all my classes were with guys
-- nerds, which I liked a LOT. They were the only people I could ever
truly talk to about cool stuff like thermoelectrics and LISP data
structures. And they explained stuff to me, like how a stereo signal
works and three-phase power. Around them, I forgot I was a girl with
a cunt and they were guys with dicks, and we just were SO excited when
we made something cool work! But we never got excited about... OTHER
things.
BUT:
Film symbolism and crazy talk are not what you're reading this for. I
can hear you say: "yeah, great, but this is a BDSM site. So far,
she's only written some fuck, and not very much of it. Where's the
WHIP part? When is this bitch gonna CRY?"
Okay, segue (strangely enough, that rhymes)...
I guess I would have liked to have been fucked by some of the CS dept.
guys, but sex is just so... DIFFERENT from everything else in life. I
mean, I guess one minute I'm supposed to be all "so what do YOU think
the recursion termination condition is" and then suddenly it's like
"say, how 'bout I lie on the computer lab floor and you STARE INTO MY
ASSHOLE WHILE YOU FURIOUSLY LICK MY GENITALIA LIKE AN INSANE, OUT-OF-
CONTROL ANIMAL AND THRUST YOUR HARD DICK DOWN MY THROAT AND SLAP YOUR
HAIRY BALLS AGAINST MY FACE unless that's inappropriate, in which case
I guess we'd better calculate the optimal loop index increment
instead".
Owww, the inconsistency! Context fault interrupt! Shutdown!
Embarrassing... embarrassing! Abort!
"I'm sorry Faye, I'm afraid I can't DO that".
THAT'S why I never went out on dates in college. Because no matter
how relaxed the situation supposedly is, the above discontinuity is
always implicitly manifest. Except while you're actually doing it,
sex is just so blatantly embarrassing and pointless, the elephant in
the room that nobody talks about, and I'm just no good at politely
ignoring the obvious. And in casual social situations like the dining
hall or a mixer, the secret/obvious elephant is slapping me in the
face with its tail so hard that I stutter and mumble and can't talk.
But no matter how much I'd prefer to say something like "Sooo... you're
a GUY. That means you have a DICK, right?" I'm not allowed to do
that. It's not POLITE. People would think I'm crazy, when really I'm
just retarded. So I have to talk about whatever is consistent with
the nominal context and pretend I'm not being slapped silly by the
elephant's tail.
Oops, crazy talk again.
Sorry.
ANYWAY (here comes the pain and humiliation part): One day I met a
girl I knew from high school at the Safeway. She asked for my number
and she called me to talk. She's married now and they bought an old
1932 house way in the country. Her husband likes to tie her up and
whip her-- HARD. And she told me that sometimes he locks her in a
closet all weekend with her hands handcuffed to her feet and only
takes her out to fuck, and then he puts her back in the closet. That
was so sexy, I felt numb. One weekday morning, he locked her naked in
the trunk of his car. She didn't even know where he was taking her.
When he let her out they were at the farm where he works, and he tied
her to a table in the barn all day for all the other guys to use when
they took a break from work. She also said "and once he whipped me
'till I passed out"... then GIGGLED!
It was AMAZING. It really happened to somebody I know; it wasn't a
fantasy this time or a fake movie with a "bondage model". I was
astounded, but she said she LOVED it! Those were her exact words. I
could hardly hold the phone or talk because I felt like I was on
drugs. I know my voice was shaking.
After we hung up, it was all I could think about. I knew that there
really were people that did those sorts of things, but, god! It
HAPPENED, Diana really DID it! Her words echoed in my brain: "No, I
LOVED it". My mind was swimming. It was like a release and a
revelation; everything I had been told in my life was lies, awful,
horrible, evil, anti-happiness LIES.
I went in the bedroom and rubbed the nub until I cummed, which took
all of fifteen seconds. I did it a couple of minutes later too,
pretending it had been ME in the barn. And twice again that night and
first thing the next morning, every time pretending it was ME climbing
out of the trunk and ME walking across the dirt parking lot with bare
feet, and ME entering a barn full of guys who weren't expecting me
while my husband stayed outside, and ME who lay on the floor and
spread my legs, never saying anything to the surprised men. It was ME
tied to the table all day, unable to move, waiting patiently for
someone else to fuck me, cum in me, use me and walk away without ever
thanking me or saying anything or even acknowledging I was a person.
I don't really drink, but I did the next day so I could call her up
and ask her (after a lot of beating around the bush, so to speak) if
maybe, uhh, she could get her husband to lock ME in his car and give
ME to his friends.
I figured she'd just hang up because every time I say something stupid
and direct, particularly if it involves feelings, people don't say
anything, look at me weird, walk away, and are never friendly
anymore... and I never know why. I got thrown off the majorgeeks
discussion forum for talking strange, and I still have absolutely no
idea why. All I talked about was stuff like overclocking my GeForce
7800. I didn't even talk about sex or anything. That happens to me
all the time, people hating me for no reason they can explain.
But to my surprise Diana got all excited and offered to put him on the
phone.
NO!
I didn't want to know him or talk to him, I just wanted to be tied up,
whipped, and raped.
So she was the intermediary, and after a couple of days of back and
forth, we decided that on the 3-day weekend, he would gag me at the
front door without saying hello so I wouldn't have to figure out what
to say, and go in the basement, strip naked, and do whatever I was
told. Then if everything was going okay, he'd get one of his friends
to come over and help dominate and rape me all weekend. Anonymously.
Well, what I thought would be fear, my brain interpreted as
excitement! Part of the deal was that I would never have to say
ANYTHING to ANYONE, that no one would ever ask my name or talk to me,
and I'd be just a sexy naked girl body for them to hurt and humiliate
and use in any way they want to for their own selfish physical
pleasure. That was the best part, feeling I wasn't responsible for
once. That whatever happened, it wasn't my fault and nobody could hate
me for doing something screwed up because it involved feelings--
particularly these strange, new ones I never realized I had before.
I counted the days 'till Friday, and couldn't concentrate at work to
the extent that I said I was sick and had to leave early. I took a
shower and washed my pussy and ass hole real good, dreamily thinking
about how in less than an hour they would both be examined real
closely by a strange man. A couple of days earlier, when Diana told
me to use an enema before arriving, I almost dropped the phone and
masturbated then and there. Now, I felt so deliciously shameful doing
it, knowing why I was.
I shaved the hair on my cunt short, shaved my legs and armpits, and
put on perfume; I wanted my rapist to like me, and I wondered if what
I hoped was coming was maybe too good to be true, that it couldn't
REALLY be about to happen. I considered what to wear, but realized
that it didn't matter because if this really happened, I would be
taking my clothes off first thing, and not putting them back on for
three days.
I considered bringing them a present to thank them for raping me, but
my subtle, autistic jokes were never recognized as such, and anyway,
the real present I was bringing them was in my pants.
I hoped they'd like it.
AIRLOCK
When I got to their house I stood on the threshold of a dream and
thought about whether I really wanted to do this. Yes, it could be
dangerous, but I was more worried about doing something wrong. I
pressed the doorbell button three times, paused, then pressed it three
times again. Diana opened the door and I felt the warm air blow
out.
She said "hi" but didn't ask me to come in. I said "hi" and stood in
the doorway, staring at cracks in their linoleum floor. When I had
had enough of that, I concentrated intensely on the fact that
electric outlets in 1932 were not only unpolarized, they weren't even
grounded. I hoped that in the increasingly unlikely case that
anything actually happened tonight, someone would shock my vulva with
electricity.
But she never said anything and I was becoming concerned that this was
another instance of "it" happening. In this case, someone making a
joke and me not knowing it:
"Faye! What are YOU doing here?"
"You mean you thought... I was SERIOUS??"
"Who is it, honey?"
"It's... it's Faye, darling. That talk, she thought it was for real."
"Oh my god."
Things like that happen to me all the time. Never about sex before,
though.
I just stood there awkwardly, wondering if I should just turn around
and walk away, which is what I usually do when "it" happens. Then her
husband came and stuffed a cloth in my mouth and put duct tape over
it. WHEW! He grabbed me by my upper left arm and led me to the
basement and Diana followed. Nobody had said anything else yet.
The only things he said to me the whole weekend were "take off all
your clothes" and (later) "it's okay, don't worry, you can scream as
loud as you want".
Diana sat on the couch and watched. I sat on the floor and took off
my shoes and socks, then stood up and took off my jeans and then my T-
shirt. I never wear a bra because my breasts are medium-small. Then
I pulled my panties down, hesitating before showing my bush, then
pulled them all the way down and stepped out of them. Finally, I as
naked! I just STOOD there in front of a strange man with grey tape
over my mouth and my hands against my sides, staring at the short-
trimmed, dark brown hair on my pussy, figuring that he was looking at
it too. Nobody said anything or moved for about 30 seconds.
It was VERY embarrassing, which was SOO sexy! My face felt literally
hot from blushing. He told me to lay on this heavy coffee table like
table, only it was higher than a coffee table. It was his workbench,
which he had dragged to the middle of the room. Then he ordered me to
spread my legs open, and he examined my cunt for a long time while I
either looked the ceiling or looked at Diana, who smiled. So far,
lying naked in front of her husband while he examined my cunt was the
sexiest moment of my life.
STARGATE
After a few minutes, he started pinching it and pulling the hair on
it. He pulled on the lips, and pinched the left one with his
fingernails, which made me say "ow". Then he picked up a real
leather whip and whipped my open legs, and I jumped and screamed
through the gag, YOOWWW! It was actually happening! I was finally
being whipped, for real! I was SO excited!
He tied me with my legs spread open and my arms out of the way so I
couldn't move, then kept whipping me over and over real fast on my
hips and tummy and upper legs, but mostly on my cunt. And not once
in a while, gently and fake like on porn videos, but he got a mean
face and whipped me REAL fast, and angry and vicious and hard as he
possibly could for, maybe, 30 seconds. THWAK THWAK THWAK THWAK THWAK
THWAK THWAK...
After the first THWAK, I was stunned. I didn't expect it to HURT so
much. After the second THWAK I was panicking, struggling desperately
to close my legs, and by about the fifth THWAK I began screaming those
loud, high-pitched, frightening screams that women do in monster
movies. After a while I couldn't distinguish the individual blows, it
was just one continuous hurting of me, and though my mouth and eyes
were wide open, I couldn't scream anymore.
When he suddenly stopped, it was silent and I realized I was crying.
I was glad that the whipping had ended, but I was afraid that because
I was sobbing so hard that Diana would feel sorry for me and stop the
whole thing. Having been through it herself, she didn't. In fact, I
looked over and she was SMILING!
When he was hurting me I was wishing desperately that she would stop
him, but not after it was over. When it was over, I felt defeated and
degraded and humiliated and dominated. I was burning with pain from
my chest to my knees and burning with desire to be raped in my cunt.
I felt a powerful desire to give in, to offer myself, to please him,
to acquiesce. I wanted nothing but to surrender my cunt to this man
who had whipped me, for any purpose he wanted to use it for.
I didn't realize he had taken out his dick until he suddenly started
fucking me. He thrust into me insanely and very fast , like a crazy
man, and cummed deep into my belly after about 20 seconds. It felt SOO
GOOD oh my GOD!!! Finally, I was being raped... and while I was
crying!
It was only the second time in my life I had been fucked. I was the
happiest girl in the solar system.
I felt his dick twitch while he pumped sperm into the back of my cunt
for about ten seconds. Then he pulled his dick out of my body
suddenly, without even looking at me, and turned away. He zipped his
pants and kissed Diana deeply and slowly, and talked to her quietly
for a while but I didn't listen. They were holding hands. They
completely ignored me, gagged and on obscene display. Her husband's
cum was running out of my cunt and down my red, welted skin. I felt
like I was part of god. And really, I was.
About ten minutes later, without talking to me, he turned me over and
rubbed KY on the end of a two-foot long piece of broom handle, and
pushed it more than a foot deep into my ass. Then as she was
blindfolding me with a sleep mask, Diana smiled and said "he puts that
in me too, and now I know what it looks like". Her husband asked her
what it looks like. "I didn't know it went in that deep" she said,
"and it looks submissive and real, real sexy!" I could hear them
kissing. Then they turned out the light and left me in the dark,
attached to their furniture.
God DAMN my ass hurt (it was up in the air). One end of the broom
handle was sticking out and I could feel my asshole squeezing against
it and the other end REALLY deep in my guts, behind my stomach. I
could even feel that the end was rounded. I had NO idea your ass
went that deep!
I was being left alone in the dark like an object in storage to be
used later. I didn't think it was possible for a girl to feel
sexier. I peed. It was warm and ran down my leg.
They came back maybe an hour later. Diana asked me how I was doing
and I answered "murmph-murmph", so she ripped off the tape. OWW! I
thought that was unfair. Is was her husband who was supposed to hurt
me, not my friend!
I said "don't ASK me that anymore, just tell him to DO whatever he
wants to me!" I was actually angry, because I didn't WANT to be
consulted and interviewed while being raped! We had specifically
AGREED that wouldn't happen and I was wondering if they'd break any
other rules (they didn't).
That weekend, I never felt more free! I peed on the floor whenever I
wanted (I was over a drain) and I didn't even care. I cried when I
wanted to cry and I screamed when I couldn't not scream.
I thought this would be a long essay but I can see that it's going to
be short because there's really not a lot to tell. Also, I feel silly
writing it. Am I REALLY going to post this online somewhere?
Probably not, even though it doesn't use my last name. I'll probably
chicken out and it will remain on my hard drive until my system
crashes someday and then it will be lost.
Anyway, to finish this up, his friend came over, then more of them,
and men fucked me and whipped me and burned me and stuck pins in me
and stuck things in my asshole and left them there, and hung me from a
black steel gas pipe in the ceiling and sucked my tits without asking
my permission and clamped my nipples and cunt with clothespins and
paper clips.
I didn't have to worry about shitting because four times, guys enema'd
me before using the tightness of my asshole to masturbate with. And
except when they hung me from the ceiling and whipped me almost to
unconsciousness, they kept me tied to the furniture continually,
without stop, from Friday night until Monday afternoon.
I don't know if that sounds sexy or just sick.
I don't care though. Sometimes, you decide that finally, you JUST
DON'T CARE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK ANYMORE, like in that song on
Quadrophenia called "The Rock", where Jimmy makes this big decision to
stop trying, and just BE.
I'm not sure how many guys tortured and raped me, since they came and
went, so to speak, all weekend. But as time went on, there were more
and more guys in the basement, maybe 8 at the max. I'm sure their
friends told their friends and that's how there got to be more of
them. I guess that's an advantage to having friends.
No one was over about 35, but several were teenagers, and two looked
13 or 14. They weren't innocent children though; they were mean
rednecks who hurt me and fucked me and used me just like the others.
Never in the whole weekend did they once advise me of what they were
going to do to me. They just did anything they wanted to my body,
like I was a dead girl or a sex doll toy for them to play with and
hurt. In fact, once when I was laid on the table face up with my
legs straight and my arms at my sides and a guy was squeezing by
breasts over and over and another guy was sucking my hard clit, I let
my jaw relax until my mouth opened, closed my eyes, and pretended that
they had just strangled me and I was a dead girl body which they were
using for a few more hours before dumping me in the woods for the dogs
to eat.
That was the only time I cummed. Oh god, it was WONDERFUL! I never
felt so much like a GIRL instead of a person!
HOW IT ENDED
When it was all over late Monday afternoon, Diana untied me and let me
take a shower before I left. I had asked ahead of time for her husband
to go somewhere else while I was preparing to leave, so it wouldn't be
a "social" situation. He didn't even mind! I also asked her for
Novocain ointment and a gauze pad for the burn, since It hurt to wear
pants (someone had stolen my panties).
The very first thing I did when I got back to my apartment was strip
naked and masturbate. For a long, long time. Most parts of body was
still in pain, particularly my "female parts". There were a lot of
little red dots where I was stuck with pins, and the burn hurt a lot.
But it was all fuel for masturbation for me, just like I hope it is
for you. In fact, if I ever do publish this, my intent is to read it
while I masturbate and imagine that maybe some guy somewhere is
reading it too, a complete stranger using me all over again and we're
both thinking about it. At least, that's what I'M going to do. I'll
do it at exactly 0400 GMT every day, at least until I feel silly about
it. AUTHOR NOTE: That turned out not to be necessary. The first two
days after I uploaded this, someone downloaded it every EIGHTEEN
SECONDS! I can rub any time I want, and someone, somewhere is using
me. This time, it's YOU.
See why I can never share my feelings with people? 'Cause that's the
kind of thing I think about. I ignore things everybody else pays
attention to and I notice things you're not supposed to think about.
One thing I notice when I go to the bathroom is that my ass hole is
permanently stretched now. When I use toilet paper, I can push my
finger way, way in, and it doesn't get squeezed. It's MUCH wider that
it ever possibly could have been naturally if I hadn't been raped in
it so many times that weekend. You know what? I'm secretly proud of
that! It's like what they did to me then reaches into the present.
It never bled, probably because I was very very insistent beforehand
about there being a LOT of KY used if her husband decided to do that
to me. They SURE stretched it though!
I had told them I was on the pill but I wasn't really, assuming one of
the strangers would impregnate me deep in my body, and I could watch
my tummy grow day by day as my rape continued to happen before my
eyes. I got aroused thinking about how long to let it go before
getting the abortion. The longer I wait, the more dangerous and sexy
it would have felt! It would have been the ultimate of some strange
man using my body. But to my surprise it didn't happen. It turns out
that women can only get pregnant some times (believe it or not, I
didn't know that. More likely, I was told once but didn't pay
attention). My dad went crazy because he was in 'Nam and my mom was a
drunk who never told me anything. She died, but not from drinking.
Maybe they should have used rubbers (not my parents, my rapists). I
may have been stupid for not to making them, but I wanted to be fucked
by naked dicks, not plastic dildoes. Plus, all STDs are easily
curable except for AIDS, and the probability of getting AIDS from
having sex one time with a white guy who's not a fag or a drug shooter
is one in ninety-thousand. A lot of people don't know that because of
all the (well-intentioned) hype by the gays. I did get crab lice, but
that was easy to cure.
Another way that my torture and rape reached into the future is that I
have permanent whip marks on the top of my breasts (and other places
too), so I can never wear anything even slightly low cut in public for
the rest of my life, unless I want people to know that I let myself be
whipped really really hard and (presumably) liked it.
Maybe I'll wear low cut blouses just for that reason! It would be a
characteristically crude, bizarre, and ineffective way for me to
communicate with other people though, and would probably backfire
somehow.
Also, if I'm ever even partially nude with a man, those marks will be
my way of letting him know that it's okay to grab me, strip me naked,
tie me face down to his bed, and whip me unmercifully until I'm
screaming and crying into his soft pillow, begging to be brutally
fucked. So if you notice someone like that at the swimming pool,
follow me home and rape me. Just for god's sake don't ASK me about it
first or I promise I'll deny everything and tell you to get out!
THINGS I WAS SURPRISED I LIKED
Definitely, being branded. It sounds stranger than it is. It's
really just like being burned while cooking at the stove, except 1)
it's by something with a shape 2) it's not by accident, 3) it's deep
enough to be permanent, 4) it's submissive, and 5) it's sexy. Though
they had touched my breasts and legs with cigarettes to make me jump,
I didn't know they were going to burn me like they did. I watched
them bend a coat hanger into what was supposed to be the letter "R",
but the scar looks like a Chinese word or something, probably because
I jerked around when they held it to my skin. They tried to heat it
up with a cigarette lighter, but it just made me go "YAAAAW" and
didn't burn my skin, so they took it upstairs to the stove. When they
held it to me, it went "ssssst" and really, REALLY hurt and I
screamed. I thought I could smell burning flesh briefly, but it was
overwhelmed by the awful cigarette smoke. He said they branded me on
my upper inside leg instead of my ass so they could still whip my
ass.
They were SO kind and considerate!
Every time I look at the scar, my cunt gets wet inside, and when I
masturbate, I touch it and it hurts, which makes the memory so much
more real. I also feel the places on my ass where the whip tore up
the fat layer under the skin. It's still distorted even though the
skin is healed, though I doubt anyone would notice. It's hard to tell
in the mirror. I feel so proud of the permanent wounds on my soft,
female ass.
By the way, YES these things hurt awfully and YES I would have begged
them to stop if I wasn't gagged. In fact, I begged them to stop even
though I was gagged. But when they did stop doing something, the pain
lessened and turned to intense pleasure which, with the embarrassment
of what it involved and the humiliation of having submitted to it,
made me VERY wanting to be fucked.
I particularly liked it when someone would torture me and then
IMMEDIATELY fuck me the moment he stopped hurting me. No matter how I
had just been tortured or how hard I was crying, when they fucked me I
always held my cunt real tight, as tight as I possibly could, to give
them the most pleasure. Even though no one told me to, it felt like
doing that was submission and obedience. Plus when I did that,
sometimes they moaned when they cummed into me. It wasn't necessary
for me to squeeze when they used my ass hole though.
I also liked it when sometimes, after they cummed into me, they
slapped my face and walked away (after one guy did it, they all
started doing it). That emphasized that it wasn't love--that it
wasn't caring and personal.
I also liked when they were just sitting around fully clothed drinking
and talking and ignoring me while I was tied, gagged and naked with my
legs held open by ropes, my hairy cunt exposed to them, waiting
patiently and helplessly until one of them wanted to use it or hurt it
or do something embarrassing and humiliating to it. It was theirs for
them to use, and I wanted to them to do everything they want to it.
All of their secret shameful fantasies that they never though a girl
would let them do, I wanted them to do all of those things to it.
Before it all, I had been afraid I would get sore and stop liking
being fucked, but that didn't happen. I figure I was probably fucked
between 50 and 100 times in 2 1/2 days, but that's just a guess.
Maybe it was 200, I really have no idea. My asshole got plenty sore
though! Plus I specified ahead that they had to use a lot of KY
(which I brought over but ran out of until Diana went out and bought
LOTS more). One guy enema'd me and then pumped two WHOLE tubes of KY
in my ass before he fucked me there! Then when then next man turned
me over and fucked me on my back, the KY had melted from my body heat
and the thick, gooey santorum was running out of my ass.
Earlier, another guy had squirted bottle after bottle of hot-water
into my ass until I was moaning and pleading, and he couldn't squirt
more in without it squirting out at the same time. I felt the water
stretch my intestine tightly and migrate to my right side, then up
higher. I wondered if it would reach my stomach. He fucked me deep,
deep up into my ass without letting the water out first, which hurt
and gave me horrible cramping and I was afraid my intestine would
break. He took a LONG time to cum. This was the most invasive thing
that anyone did to me.
After he was finished and pulled out, the water exploded over the
floor. Some of it even hit the wall. There was more than I ever
would possibly have imagined, probably between a half gallon and a
gallon. It continued for a long, long time until it was just a warm
dribble. That felt SO good! Believe it or not, pushing the water out
was one of the best feelings of the whole time. Then I just lay there
and rested, and thought about what was just done to me, and that I had
willingly submitted to it being done.
I felt SO happy.
I'm glad I didn't have a safeword because then it wouldn't be real
rape, just a bullshit, safe, fake Disney make-believe game. I mean,
I trusted them not to kill me or cut my face and stuff. Plus, Diana
was my friend. And I figured that one guy might do that sick stuff,
but ten were unlikely to conspire to commit murder when there's no
money in it
Also, if I had a safeword, I would have used it MANY times, so I'm
glad now that I didn't. It would have been shameful. That's also
one reason I wanted to be gagged, so I couldn't beg them to stop
hurting me (which I was desperately trying to do).
I liked being suspended by my wrists onto my tippie-toes and being
whipped HARD while I screamed and cried and everyone just sat around
and drank and laughed. There was one time when one guy would whip me
as long as he wanted, then when he stopped, another guy would start
whipping me with fresh enthusiasm. There were about seven of them.
Some guys whipped me two or three times. They whipped my armpits, my
wrists, my elbows, my hands... literally everywhere except the soles of
my feet and my head. I was whipped continuously by the same thin
leather whip for probably between 30 minutes and two hours, until I
was groggy, like being drunk, and almost unconscious. I think the
only reason they stopped was because I wasn't moving anymore. Then
they cut me down and I fell on the floor. They pushed my legs open
and they each fucked me in my cunt right where I fell. That lasted a
long time too, maybe a half hour. I barely remember that part, except
that I wasn't crying or moving, I hurt all over but not any place in
particular, and that the cement was hard but felt good because it was
cold and wet.
By the way, when I was suspended (by my wrists or feet), they wrapped
a small towel between me and the rope. One guy suggested hanging me
by my neck but everybody else shouted "NO!" all in unison. That was
kind of funny. See, they DO care about me!
I liked being fucked by two guys at once because it emphasized that I
was being USED, not "made love to". Three was good too, but it was
hard to pay attention to what was going on. I liked simultaneous ass
and cunt better than cunt and mouth. They never did ass and mouth at
the same time.
I liked being called "bitch" and "cunt" and "slutty whore" when they
slapped me. I liked that they were uncaring when I cried.
I liked when they held me by my hair and fucked my mouth, rather than
making me move my head up and down. It was more brutal and less
loving that way.
I had never swallowed cum before but I liked doing it, not because I
liked it (it was STICKY and ICKY), but because it was submissive and
humiliating. It was like they made me digest their sperm, making the
most intimate part of them part of my own body forever. How sexy is
THAT!!!
I liked when they did something extra to me when they cummed, like
touch my leg with a cigarette or squeeze both my nipples as hard as
they can, making me scream for the few seconds it takes them to pump a
whole teaspoonful of cum from their hairy balls into my battered
cunt. I liked it if, when they pulled out, I was crying.
And I'm surprised that I liked being stuck with pins in my vulva
(outer pussy lips). One guy stuck four thumbtacks in them before he
fucked me, but that merely hurt like a toothache, not good like the
pins were.
Once they were in, pins in my nipples hurt a LOT less that I figured
they would. In fact, when they left them in while they did other
stuff to me it felt REALLY good. I'm thinking of getting my nipples
pierced, just so it hurts like that all the time. Pins pushed deep
into my breasts felt good too usually, but sometimes they had that bad
"toothache" hurt, depending where they pushed them. Beforehand, I was
hoping they would have metal skewers and push them deep through the
base of my breasts, but nobody thought of it, and after feeling the
pins, I didn't suggest it. If I ever do this again, I'll suggest it
ahead of time so that I can be sorry I did.
THINGS I WISH I HAD CHANGED
I wish I had said "no smoking" or that we had done this is outside in
the woods or in an open structure like the barn where Diana said her
husband had whipped her once.
I wish I had had a pillow under my head and my back when they had me
tied to the furniture with my legs held open and my ass hole and cunt
on display for almost a whole day.
I didn't like being hung upside down because it was distracting, and
after a while I got a headache. And I was worried the rope would
break. Plus, Diana told them "don't do that, it's dangerous", but I
don't know why it would be, unless she was talking about the rope.
I liked being suspended by my wrists, but only for a while. It took
too long for them to figure out to tie my feet to keep me from kicking
wildly as I was whipped. Also, it cut off the circulation and my
hands got cold and numb.
I didn't like being hit with anything wide, like a paddle (actually,
just a piece of plywood). They didn't have a cat 'o nine tails or any
other fancy SM stuff.
I wish that during it, the guys WOULDN'T TRY TO TALK TO ME!
God DAMN!!
Fortunately, most of them were cruel and uncaring, but sometimes one
would ask me if I REALLY wanted it or if I was being coerced or maybe
paid, blah blah. Particularly if I was crying. One asked me my name
(against the rules) and tried to be my friend. Jeezis, what am I
supposed to say? "Shut up and torture me, ass hole"? It really
killed the mood!
I wish some of the guys hadn't smelled so bad. And I wish they would
have washed their dicks before fucking my mouth, even just with a damp
cloth. Though strangely, I didn't mind when they fucked my ass until
they were about to cum, then pushed their dicks into my mouth and
emptied their balls into it for me to swallow. I would have preferred
that they didn't thrust their dicks down my throat every single time,
not because I gagged (I can control that), but because I like when
they cummed into my mouth so I could lick the "guy clit" on the bottom
of the head and feel the cum shooting out of the little hole onto my
tongue, like a reward for me doing it right.
I also wish I had specified times to eat, as it was a big deal to get
them to feed me (Diana fed me cold pizza several times while I was
tied up and nobody was around to use me), but being real hungry while
they had pizza was distracting and not sexy. Also, I should have
specified that she offer me water at least once an hour, though
eventually she did.
I wish someone would have figured a way to fuck me in my cervix and
pump his sperm directly into my womb, maybe even making it swell and
filling it up. That would have been the guy who deserved to make me
pregnant.
I also wish that they had shared their beer with me, as they were all
drinking it. Cases and cases of malt liquor with a black label (I
forget the name), but all I had was water. They did pour it on my
back though (beer not water). That reminds me, I also wish they would
have hosed me down every few hours because I was all sticky and sweaty
and itchy.
By the way, when you see girls in porn all covered with cum, that's
fake. When you're gang-raped for real, the guys ALL cum in your mouth
or cunt or ass, not on your stomach or face or tits. After you've
been fucked like 20 times though, it does run across your asshole,
down your leg, and makes a pool on whatever you're tied to.
I also wish I had told them ahead of time not to torture my clit; it's
too sensitive. And I was always afraid they'd cut a nerve with a pin
or that a burn would leave scar tissue and then I couldn't ever feel
it again, but fortunately, that didn't happen.
And I wish there had been a clock there. I know that in fantasies,
everything happens "outside of time", but when you've actually been
really tied up for two days, you kind of wonder how much longer it
will go on (even if you like it). There was no window, but I could
tell what part of the day it was by how many guys were there. For
instance, they left me alone in the dark for several hours in the
mornings and I slept. It was strange, but made me deeply happy to
wake up and realize that I was tied to a table naked in a stranger's
basement and that I'll be raped again soon. It was like waking up and
realizing you don't have to get up for work today because you're on
vacation in Australia after winning the 30 million dollar lottery.
I wish I had had them sterilize the pins because my nipple got
infected. I used antibiotic ointment but I was afraid I might have to
go to the doctor (and what the HELL could I say?) Ultimately I ate a
two-inch strip of the ointment and that cured it! In porn movies,
they use syringe needles. God knows where you get them. I can see
going to CVS and saying "may I please have 500 syringe needles? I'm
going to be tortured all weekend by strangers but I want to make sure
I'm nice and safe like my mommy would want".
I wish I had specified that they not pee in my mouth. I know it's
sterile, but it was disgusting, not sexy. They told me to drink their
piss, but I just pretended to. I don't even feel bad about that,
because drinking piss isn't sexy, it's bullshit. Thank god nobody
crapped on me!
I liked it when they made me cry. Then, I felt like I was a real
person with feelings instead of a broken robot simulation, which is
how I feel when I'm around humans, or that I don't exist at all, which
is the rest of the time.
And I wish I had said not to choke me with their dicks when fucking my
throat, because I couldn't breathe for a long time and I had to bite
their dicks to make them stop, which wasn't cool. I wish someone
would have given me deep throat lessons so I could have done it
right. I could have learned on my own if only they would have
cooperated, but they just thrusted angrily, which was good in a way.
Still I'm sorry I never felt one of the men cum deep in my throat,
half way to my stomach. It would have been sexy to have been used
like that. I knew a girl who had a tracheotomy and I was actually
wishing someone would do that to me, then use my throat for a long
time.
And finally, I wish I had specified that they had to stretch my
asshole before fucking it the first time. It hurt too much until
someone told me to "push, like you're taking a crap". The other guys
said "woo-woo, how would YOU know", and he said his doctor told him
when he got a colon exam, but they still called him "Bruce" and
"Maurice" and "William" for a while until they forgot about it.
The KY made it okay for everybody to fuck my asshole when they used a
lot of it, but earlier I remember thinking that I can see why guys in
prison don't like this. Eventually I liked being ass-fucked because of
the extra humiliation and because they were fucking deep into my guts,
not just my dainty feminine "vagina" like good little boys are
supposed to do. Also, deep in my guts I could feel the strangers'
warm cum pumping into me, trying to make my body pregnant, which I
couldn't feel when they fucked my cunt.
One guy tried "fisting" me (pushing his whole hand into my cunt) while
the others cheered him on. But even though he pushed and pushed (and
I screamed and screamed) it was too tight and he couldn't. That's too
bad. Part of me wishes he had just FORCED his hand in, and sometimes
I wish he had. But realistically, he really, REALLY wanted to put his
hand inside me so intimately like that, it was NOT from lack of
pushing very, very hard that he didn't.
Actually, I thought I would pass out during that, probably due to low
blood pressure from screaming, I'm not sure, but my sight got dark and
my hearing got "blurry", like underwater. It also might be the same
thing that happened when I was suspended and whipped, and I got
sluggish and slurry. I don't know why that happened either. I have
heard that childbirth was the most horrible pain you can experience.
I always thought that was bullshit but now I believe it.
When I think about it realistically, I realize that if he had pushed
even a little harder, he would have split me open and the party would
have been over. God only knows what I would have told the hospital...
not to mention my mom. She put me in the mental hospital anyway when
she found out about all this, but that's another story.
THE IN-YOUR-FACE REALITY VS. SIMULATED EXHILARATION
There's a subtle difference between something really happening and
merely thinking of it as an intense masturbation fantasy (and for me
it has been both).
Between the time Di told me about the things her husband did to her,
and when I allowed him to do them to ME, I spent a lot of time
thinking what it would be like.
The difference was that when imagining something intensely (while
rubbing your clit or, presumably, the head of your dick), your mind
focuses on one or two aspects of it, the details vanish, and the
background becomes blurred cardboard. It has to be that way, or you
can't cum. When I fantasized about it, I could imagine my legs held
wide open with my feet slightly in the air and my hairy vulva
obscenely exposed, or my wrists being attached to the ceiling and my
tits and nude hips and bare feet all on display for the men to stare
at before they angrily whip me almost into unconsciousness and take
turns raping me.
When it really happened, it was just like that, yes. And the shame
and submission and blatantness were more than I could ever have hoped
for. I felt UNIMAGINABLY SEXY. I couldn't possibly BEGIN to describe
it. The overload-embarrassment of being the only one naked in a room
of MEN - generic, faceless strangers who were soon going to FUCK me --
was so intense that it made me feel drugged, probably, like heroin.
But there were a huge number of little things also going on, like the
glare of the two light bulbs and the shadows they cast, the moldy
smell of their basement, the "whoosh" of cars when they drove by, the
feel of gentle air on my body and low rumbling when the furnace turned
on, the salty taste of my tears, the fact that the air was comfortable
for them but just a little too cool for a naked person, the ""bzzzzzt"
of the door buzzer when another couple of guys showed up drunk to fuck
some crazy girl who would let you do anything to her, the cold, hard
concrete against the bottoms of my feet that made me aware I was bare
with no clothes on like after I get out of the shower, except in a
room full of strange men... I could literally list a thousand things.
None of these are by themselves important enough to make the
experience any different from the intense masturbation fantasy. But
the confluence conspires to give it a REALITY and a PRESENCE which
grounds the experience as being in the same universe as boring,
ordinary reality, like standing next to a telephone pole with rusty
staples in it while waiting for the light to change so you can cross
the street, looking at an old car in the parking lot and noticing that
the windshield is dirty and the wax is faded, or looking at the old
grease they've spilled on the parking lot in front of the recycling
barrel behind Burger King.
I don't know how to express what I'm trying to say. These things,
while not exactly distractions, gave the experience a texture and
reality that are absent in dreams. Look around you now. (Go ahead,
I'll wait!). Do you think there is any possibility you are in a
dream right now? No, that's ridiculous! Why not? After all,
everything you see is something you've probably seen in moves or
dreams.
But there's a sense of being a small person in a large 3D world that
makes it obviously different from watching the same scene in a movie
theater.
In the fantasy, you picture yourself lying on your back holding your
legs apart and things being done to you. But when it happens, what
you actually SEE is the ceiling. A better example: I had imagined a
baseball bat being pushed into my ass and deep into my belly. But
when he really did that with a broom handle, there were little specks
of sand stuck to the wood, and flecks of paint missing making it
rough, and I could feel them scrape against my stretched, asshole, and
I could feel the larger ones scrape against my insides. You don't
notice these things when you're just rubbing your clit, wishing it
would happen.
In the fantasy, he pushed the baseball bat into my body at a constant
rate. In reality, he stopped, then pushed, then stopped, pulled out a
little, took a hit of his cigarette, pushed again, then pushed it in
HARD -- eventually going deeper and deeper, and deeper into me.
I know this isn't freshmen physics, but this is important to me. When
I was lying in bed rubbing my clit, the imaginary baseball bat had no
resistance; it just slid right into my backside. But when it was
really done to me, some parts of the broom handle had more KY and
other parts had almost none, and so had different friction along the
length of the wood when my anal muscles squeezed against it. This
caused the high friction places to pull my asshole into my body a
little bit, and then release it to fold back out after the friction
part of the broom handle was pushed deep inside my body.
And when simulating it in my mind, I couldn't feel a long object move
around inside me, between my hips and behind my stomach, ordering me
by its presence to stay still, nor could I feel the blunt rounded top
poking and prodding the place where my colon bent to the right,
preventing it from being pushed any deeper into me. Nor could I
imagine the hard boner pushing the front of some guy's pants as he
humiliated me in this way, or the sound of him walking to the other
side of the table, unzipping, and taking it out to fuck my mouth
with, after he had finished impaling me internally on a long wooden
pole.
An of course, when I was imagining it, I liked it and it didn't hurt.
When it really happened, I liked it and it DID hurt.
Those were just a few of the thousands of subtle but collectively
impressive differences between being stripped and humiliated for real,
with people watching me, and it merely being something to think
intensely about to make myself cum. And I've only just mentioned 20
seconds' worth, but it was like that for 2 1/2 days, continuously,
with no reprieve other than the few hours in the mornings when I could
sleep tied and gagged and immobile, attached to their furniture in the
dark.
Lying in my bed, I had imagined kneeling down, my head on the table
and one end of a baseball bat deep inside me with the other end
sticking out of my ass. What I didn't think about when masturbating
was how juice would run out of my swollen cunt starving to be fucked,
and down the bottom of my stomach, or how exposed I would feel while
two married people just stood there holding hands and watching me be
skewered in silence for over a minute as I obediently waited and
prayed to be fucked by someone, anyone, even a dog or a negro.
It was the most wonderful experience of my life.
MONOLITHIC
I have this fantasy of lying on a bed in a room with antique furniture
and florescent light panels in the floor. I am naked and my lover
rolls up his sleeve and forces his hand into my girl opening,
painfully stretching it until his fist is next to my cervix, which is
coated with his cum, from his previous "sessions" with me.
Then his fingernail tears the thin delicate tissue at the top of my
vagina and pushes his finger and then his hand through, tearing it
more. He pushes my uterus aside; it's not what he wants. His arm is
deep in my cunt to his elbow but I hold my legs open obediently and
stay silent as I feel him explore my internal organs. They all belong
to him now, and he explores each one individually.
If he ever pulls his arm out, blood will follow, so I hope he keeps it
in me for the rest of my life.
I feel him cut a hole in my diaphragm and push deeper, deeper. It
doesn't even hurt very much. Then, finding what he is reaching around
inside me searching for, he squeezes my windpipe and strangles me from
inside until I pass out, then graciously and lovingly grants me my
life and allows me to wake again. When I do, I feel a tickle in my
chest. He has been patiently waiting for me while he holds my beating
heart in his hand.
I am ultimately vulnerable now; he owns me. He looks up at my face;
it's an inquisitive look. I smile weakly, and whisper "do whatever you
want to me". He says "and what do YOU want me to do?"
"Complete me. Finish me. Please, I'm begging you to!"
I gaze across my small breasts and hard nipples, over my bare tummy
and trimmed pubic hair and past my hard clit at my legs spread open.
Fascinated by his arm in my cunt up to his shoulder, I wait obediently
to see what he will do to me. He holds my precious, priceless,
beautiful life in his hand, and I willingly gave it to him.
I can feel his hot breath on my stretched, hairy vulva. I open my
legs still wider as he licks my clit and makes me cum, and squeezes my
heart until it stops.
My last words are "thank you...".
Thank you,
Techno Faye
=================
PS:
While you hide the hand lotion and wipe up the cum with a paper towel,
let me do something on the side here...
HEY MOM, YOU OLD DRUNK BITCH! TOO BAD YOU'RE DEAD SO YOU CAN'T SEE
THAT YOUR *GOOD* GIRL IS A SLEAZY, SLUTTY WHORE WHO'LL GIVE HER SMELLY
CUNT FOR FREE TO ANY MAN WHO WANTS TO USE IT! AHH HAHAHA!
SOMEDAY I WILL BE STRANGLED TO DEATH BY A STRANGE MAN WHILE HE CUMS
INTO MY TORTURED NAKED BODY ... AND I'LL LIKE IT! I'LL SMILE, AND
THANK HIM FOR DOING IT AS I DIE!
WILL I STILL HAVE TO BE ASHAMED OF MYSELF *THEN*, YOU AWFUL EVIL,
HYPOCRITICAL, RELIGIOUS MONSTER??? I HOPE YOU'RE IN ==HELL== !!!!!
...sorry, that just kind of happens sometimes. It's even more
embarrassing when it happens in the line at the bank. Please ignore
it.
PPS:
After thinking long and hard (so to speak), I decided to include my
phone number: 202-456-1414. I'm doing it because I want to be
verbally and physically abused by a man, and this is the most direct
way to do it.
But I don't want to waste my time playing "mommy" to little boys and
apologetic whiners. If you want to suck my tits, you can't be a baby;
you have to TAKE them from me. Plus, I wouldn't know what to say. I
only want to talk to a brutal man, a REAL man who's willing to shout
at me and take control, or I'll hang up and block your number.
To prove you're not a wimp, as soon as I pick up, before I even say
"hello", you have to shout into the phone "Listen to me, bitch! I'm
enraged, and I'm coming over there right now to get that sleazy
bush!"
After that, I promise you a VERY interesting conversation (wink,
wink)!
PPPS:
Seriously though, in the unlikely case you track me down, please don't
ask me to have sex (if you ASK first, it's not rape, is it?). Plus, I
HATE meeting people (and I mean that)!
If, in my everyday life, I were just minding my own business and some
obsessed weirdo who reads this grabs me off the street, pulls me into
a van, slaps me around, rapes me for REAL, then dumps me bruised and
naked on the side of the road at 5 am in the middle of nowhere 100
miles away and drives off laughing, well... maybe THAT would be okay.
PPPPS:
Please stop sending me email about how sick I am, or how I need
psychiatric care before I get hurt because I don't care. It's a
perfect example of why I don't hang around people. One girl (a
lesbian) was FURIOUS that I had used the word "fag" in my little
memoir. She even copied her nasty letter to the manager of bdsmlib,
as if that's going to get me banned(!)
Here, look what we famous authors have to put up with:
==============
From : Maaya Hitomi <tgirl.maaya@gmail.com>
To : faye kane <fayekanegallery@hotmail.com>
Sent : Thursday, February 1, 2007 11:58 PM
CC : webmaster@bdsmlibrary.com
Subject : Excuse me?
I have cc'd this email to the webmaster of BDSM library.
Fag is a very offensive term, do not use it in the future to describe
a homosexual man.
(Fag = Homosexual is a FALSE statement)
I do understand that you have autism but that doesn't mean that you
should be allowed to be offensive to people of any race, religion,
sexual variant, gender identity, etc.
Unprotected sex is unprotected sex. Whether with a virgin white 18
peak of the line male or anyone else. Unprotected sex is dangerous and
shouldn't be encouraged unless each feel comfortable enough with each
other
I will not sit idle with people of my community (LGBT) are being
attacked with words such as fag, and saying that HIV/AIDS is a gay/
black disease.
Maaya
============
I mean, JEEZUS! I write about being kidnapped, tortured, gang-raped,
and murdered, and SHE takes offense that the guys didn't use a rubber!
So I sent her this:
==============
From : faye kane <fayekanegallery@hotmail.com>
To : Maaya Hitomi <tgirl.maaya@gmail.com>
Sent : Thursday, February 1, 2007 11:58 PM
Subject : INCEST
Dear Maaya:
You're motherfuckin' CRAZY!
Sincerely,
Faye
PS:
I'm confused. Which homosexuals are not fags? The ones that look
like cowboys or the ones dressed in biker costumes? And the Village
People guy that looked like a sailor, was he one or not?
=============
God, now I just masturbated while thinking about being whipped by a
fat, psychotic Jap bull dyke!
I am SOO a slut!
PPPPS: TOP TEN QUESTIONS PEOPLE ASK ME BY EMAIL
ONE
Yes, yes, it really happened. I didn't embellish it either, except
that the part about being suspended and whipped to unconsciousness
didn't happen to me, it happened to Diana. But everyone emailed me for
"More details! More details!" and since it really did happen to her,
I included it just as she described it to me. And I am revealing that
fact here.
When I started writing this, I didn't even know I was going to put it
online or show it to anyone. tHOUGH IT'S ALL LITERALLY TRUgod damn
caps lock! Though it's all true, I emphasized the stuff that I
thought was sexy and left out the un-sexy stuff.
That may be why an emailer said my story sounds unreal, "like a
cartoon". But if I included boring stuff to ground it in reality, it
wouldn't be as intense. For instance, I imply that the room was
always packed with horny men, but there was almost always just me and
one or two others, and long stretches of time of just me alone. If
someone had had a camcorder there, it would just be another shaky
handheld home video of some girl being fucked. Nor was it "magical"
to any of the men. I was just a crazy girl who won't talk but lets
you fuck her. Plus, they were drunk and mostly didn't give a shit and
lots of times couldn't cum. The profound cosmic significance of it
was all in my feelings. And that's what I tried to express here.
Something utterly amazing to me is that emailers tell me they don't
believe I haven't had sex in four years. I would like to address
this, but I don't know why people find it hard to believe. I'm
autistic. I'm homeless. I'm crazy. I smell like the kinds of cheese
French people eat. Plus, to me, being naked in the same room with
someone of the other gender is SO astounding that if everybody else
didn't do it like, all the time, I would find THAT hard to believe.
TWO
No I'm not interested in writing another story, because it would have
to be fiction and I'm not creative in that way because the story
wouldn't be "bound" to anything (so to speak), like an experience. I
can't just make stuff up out of nothing. For instance, I can do
technical writing because it's bound to the underlying device or
software I'm writing about.
THREE
West Virginia, near the Maryland border. But I don't live there
anymore. For some reason, a lot of girls in that area let stuff like
this be done to them. Her sister and cousin did it too. I think it's
something in the water.
FOUR
The reason I use the word "cunt" to shock people. Why? Because
that's what it is. I don't WANT to create precious little infant
babies in my vagina. I want to be brutally fucked in my hairy, animal
CUNT. If I could, I'd project filthy porn movies on the wall of the
subway station that they couldn't turn off, and everyone would try to
look away and be embarrassed. And I'd scream "SEE people? That's
YOU! Look at it; that's what YOU are, and are ASHAMED of!"
Of course, since I'm too shy to look the subway cashier in the face,
it's unlikely that I'll actually do that.
FIVE
No, I never saw any of those men again, though I talked to Diana on
the phone a few times. It turns out they were the guys her husband
worked with, the same guys who had done the same thing to her. She
since left him because he killed her cat just to make her cry. When I
heard that, I seriously considered killing him.
SIX
No, no one ever shocked me with electricity. That was probably good,
as it's the "toothache" hurt rather than the sexy "whip" hurt.
SEVEN
No offense, but I'm not really interested in reading your fantasies.
Not because they're perverted (which is GOOD), but because they're
FANTASIES:
-------> "Don't DREAM it, BE it".
Go out and DO that stuff; don't tell ME about it!!
Though I admit, some of you write really well. Post that stuff
online, don't send it to ME!
EIGHT
Although I'm sure you're a nice guy (or in a few cases a GIRL(!)), I
don't want to meet you at a motel for a "play session", pose for
pictures, be in your home movie, or any of the other creative stuff
you request (see my blog). But mainly because I don't want to meet
anyone at all, for any reason, nor do I want to talk to you (or anyone
anywhere) on the phone. I hate talking on the phone, I LIKE being
alone because I have homophobia: I hate homo sapiens.
No offense.
I do like my cat, if that helps!
NINE
I haven't had sex since that weekend (yes, years) or go on dates or
hardly talk to people at all. I masturbate until I cum three or four
times a day though. Since I don't work anymore, I also learn stuff
and take naps all day. I am completely naked all day, every day,
sometimes for weeks at a time. It makes me feel sexy. I only dress
to go to the store. The story of how this can be and pictures of the
strange way I live are on my blog.
I am homeless and live in the woods under a plastic tarp. I hacked
onto the power grid and use wireless internet. Again, there are pix
of my little hidey-hole online. Early on, I said too much, including
what became clues to finding me, and now I am plagued with stalkers.
I hope to god none of them finds me. If I suddenly stop making blog
entries, one of them did.
I like to watch videos I download from pirate networks like eMule of
REAL people doing REAL stuff. I *hate* watching fake moaning, and
whore makeup, and the girl wearing platform shoes (what's with
THAT??), and the guy pulling out before he cums. I download free porn
movies via eMule in the background 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and
process it all at once when it stack up to, like, 100 gigabytes. I
review the movies quickly, deleting 99% of them after skipping through
them in about 10 seconds.
For more free porn movies of every conceivable kind than you could
ever possibly imagine, run the public-license, free, file sharing
software eMule, available at emule-project.net. You can also get
dirty pix and any song you ever heard of. Note to editor: before
deleting that as an advertising link, go to the site. You'll see it's
not a commercial site but a P2P program written by volunteers as part
of the public open source forge project with no adware or spyware or
shitware. Also, I just use it and recommend it, I am not associated
with it.
TEN
No, I don't have a web site. I don't really have anything to put on
it. I'm certainly not selling anything (including videos, pix, or my
pussy). But you can look at my myspace page; there's a blog of my
thoughts about politics and life for you to ignore, and lots of "fuck"
entries for you to masturbate with. None of it's fiction, it's just my
thoughts about stuff. There is also two pics of my face, two nude
pictures of my body, and one pic of mister kitty there, but they don't
allow nudity on myspace so they are both "artsy" type nude pictures. I
have three really low-quality pictures of my vagina taken with a cell
phone too. They are on an image host, but the links are in my blog.
Registration is not required and there are no advertisements there.
======================= FROM MY BLOG
THINGS MY FUTURE HUSBAND WILL DO IF HE REALLY LOVES ME
· Get a boner when he sees me crying.
· Not allow me to eat unless he has masturbated into my food.
· Make me stay awake and suck his dick all night while he sleeps then
make me go to work while he lies around all day drinking beer.
· Handcuff me to the living room sofa, deny me food and water for two
days, eat pizza and beer in front of me with another woman, then turn
off the lights, leave me in the dark, and take her into the bedroom.
· Make me hitchhike naked and tell people "I'm autistic and this is
the only way I can think of to get sex".
· Whenever he brings his friends over to watch the football game, make
me sit on top of the set naked with my legs open so they can look at
my cunt if they get tired of the game and throw beer cans at me when
the other team scores.
· Inject hot water into my vulva so they become swollen and red, take
pictures of them while I'm in pain, post them on the internet with my
cell phone number, and order me to describe it to anyone who calls.
· Keep me locked in a box under his bed for a year, only taking me out
to use as a nameless masturbation doll for his own selfish physical
pleasure.
· Cut my vocal cords and make a rule that I never look at any other
part of his body but his dick.
· Handcuff my hands behind my back, bend me over the bathtub naked,
and fuck me from behind. As incentive for me to make my pussy muscle
tight, hold my head underwater and not let me breathe until he cums.
· Tear my clothes off, whip me brutally, throw me out into the snow
naked, lock the door, masturbate while looking at me through the
window huddled and shivering, and not let me back in until he cums.
· Attach my nipples to hooks in the wall so I dare not fall asleep,
and make me stand like that for a week.
· Push his arm into my ass up to his shoulder, but since it would hurt
too much and he cares about me, do it after he whips me into
unconsciousness.
· Put one wire just inside my asshole and another deep, then plug it
in because it makes my cunt tight.
· Keep me bound and gagged naked in a plexiglass box in the living
room as a coffee table. Put two holes in it for my tits to stick up
through, and use them to put cigarettes out on so as not to dirty the
ashtray. Keep me like that when he has cocktail parties and
everybody smokes.
· Before I get in bed every night, make me get on my knees and say a
prayer to his dick, thanking it for what it is about to do to me and
begging it to be merciful tonight.
· Buy a ground-level apartment in the city, stick my head through a
hole in the wall so I can be seen by everyone walking by on the
sidewalk , brace my mouth open, and put a sign over my head for that
says "public urinal".
· Sell me to another man for keeps -- someone who doesn't like me.
· Tie me naked to the hood of his car with my legs spread open and
drive through the city at noon honking the horn.
· Leave me overnight with a sadist just released from prison. Give
him $200 and the instructions: "torture her in ways that I could never
bring myself to do and return her the next day with a video".
· Make me walk back and forth in Las Vegas wearing panties and a bra
selling my pussy for $200, and when the men are done, refuse their
money "because you fucked me so good".
· Handcuff me, rub lighter fluid on my vulva, light
it on fire, and fuck me in my ass while I scream with pleasure.
· Make me go to a biker convention wearing nothing but a T-shirt that
says "Bikers are fags!".
· Tie me naked with my legs spread facing a TV camera broadcasting
full screen hi-definition and free on the internet and leave me there
all day while he goes to work, watches me from his desk, and posts the
IP address on alt.sex.bondage.
· March me under a bridge, handcuff me to a case of cheap wine, pull
down my pants, leave me with the angry old drunks, and drive away
laughing about it.
· Buy a decibel meter from Radio Shack and hold an all-day contest for
his friends to see who can make me scream the loudest.
· Let his five nephews in their early teens fuck me as sex education.
· Keep me on the edge of starvation and feed me nothing but other
men's cum.
· Have me fill my cunt with strawberries and whipped cream and lie on
the dinner table with my legs open, eat them from me with a long
wooden spoon, beat me with the spoon, then tell me to go away.
· Tie me to a picnic table in the back yard when it's snowing, dump a
bucket of cold water on me, wait five minutes, then dump a bucket of
scalding water on me too.
· Drug my food, and when I pass out on the sofa watching TV, strip me,
stuff me in the car trunk , drive me out in the country, and dump me
naked on the side of the road at 3 AM so when I wake up I'll have no
idea where I am, how I got there, or how to get home.
· Cut off my toes and sell them on eBay for a dollar each as "fake
novelty toes" and not give me any of the money. Amputate my arms and
legs, cook them on his grill, and keep me stored blindfolded, gagged,
and hanging in a closet until he wants to strangle me, fuck me after
I'm dead, frame my vagina and hang it in his living room, mount my
head on a post next to his bed with the mouth open, throw the rest in
a dumpster, and find a new girlfriend who uses the head as an ashtray.
Ohhh GOD, that is SO romantic!!
I have to go masturbate now....
======================= FROM MY BLOG
To paraphrase Yoda: Do or do not. There IS no "think".
You wanna know how crazy I really am? As much as I would be disgusted
by a love struck, puppydog stalker, if one finds me, I will STILL do
whatever he tells me to. I can't explain why, I don't want to think
about why, and it makes me angry to even consider that I should have
to explain why. It's just who I am. In fact, it seems obvious to me
that ALL women feel this way, they just suppress it.
It's like a young cat, all spit and piss, but when you pick her up by
the skin on her neck she is programmed to go limp.
I went to a great deal of trouble to camouflage this place so that
nobody finds me. I hope nobody EVER finds me, so I can live my simple
life alone in peace.
But if someone does, I will be naked (like I always am, like now). I
will ignore his wimpy yappity-rap about how good it is to finally
meet me, and open my legs and lie there silent. Eventually he will
either shut up and go away, or shut up and fuck me.
If the tells me to turn over, I will. If he tells me to suck him to
orgasm, I will, and I will swallow his cum without being told to. If
he whips me with a thin branch, I will submit, and try hard not to
move or make noise.
If he tells me to walk through the woods to his car, I will do it --
but only naked. He can drive me to his house where he can do anything
he wants to me for as long as he wants because he is my owner. He can
even give me to his friends. Hopefully, he will eventually bring me
back. If not, then for the rest of my life I will be his devoted,
obedient sex slave.
I don't ever want to know his name.
The only time I will get mad is if he EVER tries to make me wear
clothes, look him in the eyes, or talk to him as a person. Then I
will call the police and prosecute him for kidnap and rape.
=================== MY BLOG IS AT:
http://blog.myspace.com/fayekane
NOTE: The shitty system only shows 15 items at a time. Click "older"
in the left column to read them all!
NOTE: If it's not there anymore, then myspace killed it. Email me
at fayekanegallery@hotmail.com to see where I moved it to.
NOTE: it is not all sex. I also talk about politics, how I miss
college, meeting Leonard Nimoy, being stalked, overclocking, and the
problems encountered when evangelizing for Frederich Nietzsche. And
some fucked-up pictures. And a few of my favorite pirated BDSM porn
videos.
Okay, it's mostly sex.
===============
This old man
He just fits
He squirts knick-knack on my tits
With a knick-knack, paddy *WHACK*, give that dog a boner
Techno Fay's a roving loner
....Bye now,
--- "Techno" Faye Kane, homeless smartmouth: the recursively
enumerated, insufficiently remunerated, double data-rated, triple X-
rated, psychoactive, hyperactive, hyperbolic, hypergolic, solid gold,
triple-holed, St. Vitus' dancin', pull down her pants and
underemployed, overjoyed, low-class, kiss-my-ass, masterpiece-makin',
masturbatin', window ledge over-the-edge, screwy, chiral, downward-
spiral, ass upended, fair-weather-friended, titty-peek girl geek.
3/18/07
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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