Forbidden Forced Fantasy

Forbidden's Literature Collection . . . => Forced Sex Stories => Topic started by: Jed on August 28, 2017, 10:02:24 PM

Title: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on August 28, 2017, 10:02:24 PM
WARNING!    You must be 18 or over to read these stories of rape and non-consensual sex.  This particular story features a character under the age of 18.  If you do not like such stories, please stop reading. This story is all fiction and no characters in it are meant to resemble any real person.  If you do not understand the difference between reality and fantasy, read no more. Rape is a heinous crime and the penalty is many years in prison. The people who commit rape are despised everywhere. No one is being hurt, and this is pure fantasy.

The Cusp of Womanhood

Preface and an Acknowledgement

This weekend I took my camper trailer to a family campground, still sort of breaking it in, in preparation for trips far more rustic.  This particular campground was rather busy with lots of activities going on.  There was a one lane bridge to get to my reserved site, and I was crossing it slow as is expected.  The posted speed was 5 miles per hour, and I was probably doing less than that crossing the wood bridge.  Waiting to cross from the other way and looking rather impatient was a young girl in a go-cart.  Normally I wouldn’t give a girl that young anything but a glance, except I saw something that would get the attention of most men.

The girl’s face was rather ordinary, nothing that would make you think she was particularly pretty.  Not bad looking mind you, just not a memorable face.  Some of that was due to her being completely devoid of any makeup, and it didn’t help she seemed to be either scowling at me for driving too slow or squinting into the sun.  My glance over at her that lingered had nothing to do with her face and everything to do with her developing breasts.

It was one of those moments where we men become little boys in that our brains go, ‘Hey look, titties!”  That reaction seems to transcend the age of us men or the age of the girl possessing those secondary sexual characteristics of developed or developing mammary glands.

She had on one of those girl shirts.  No boy would wear a shirt that had a V in the neck like that.  She was hunched over the steering wheel of the go-cart, and I could clearly see the bare swell of her creamy white breasts visible in that neckline.  I’m not good at guessing cup size, but I imagine an A-cup straining to be a B more due to the pronounced swell rather than the overall size.  She was a small girl probably around 4’9”, and her breasts were proportionally small, but they did push out from her body in a way that no longer said ‘little girl’.

I couldn’t quite see her nipples, but I saw enough to know she was not wearing a bra.  As I drove past I wondered how a parent could let a girl that young and that developed run around without a bra.  The girl was obviously clueless she was showing me her tits.  I could tell having them was entirely new to her, as any girl possessing breasts for any length of time would be to some extent conscious of hiding them from view in a way she was not.

I don’t know her exact age obviously, but I’m quite sure she was at least a year or two younger than my cut-off in including girls in stories, which is 14.  I don’t lust after underage girls less than 18, but anyone reading my stories could guess I do have fantasies about them.  For me such fantasies have to be hypothetical, in that I don’t really fantasize about actual underage girls I know.  That’s not to say I don’t look at young girls (obviously given what I’m describing here), but it’s more along the line of briefly admiring the flowers I know I’ll never actually pick and place in a vase.

I thought about that girl over the weekend, and even saw her again as I was leaving on Sunday.  She was sitting with some family members still looking rather ordinary in the face.  She didn’t flash me her tits this time.  What I kept thinking about was how this girl kept reminding me of the girl Rose in Brokenwing’s story ‘Daddy’s Debt’.

http://forbiddenforcedfantasy.com/forced-sex-stories/'daddy's-debt'/

I started to imagine a girl like that completely unfamiliar with a man’s touch.  I’m not talking about one of a girl’s male peers near her own age who might try and cop a clumsy feel, even if successfully.  I mean a young girl suddenly being subjected to her body being touched and handled by a man intimately familiar with touching girls.  She is fondled and caressed by a man who knows exactly where to touch a girl to arouse her, and the girl soon finds herself helplessly responding to his touch.  The girl knows she should try and escape, but she finds herself unable to even try.

I decided to write such a story.  Sorry for all that rambling without actually having a story post to make just yet, but coming very soon.  While that girl in the campground may have been the trigger, it’s Brokenwing’s stories that has me on a path to do one similar to hers.  I’ll excuse myself from doing a story about a girl possibly younger than my usual cutoff of 14 by simply not mentioning her age.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Emily on August 29, 2017, 06:03:32 PM
Reading things like this always makes me think of all the men I grew up around as a girl. Were they thinking the same things? Even when I was young and just beginning to blossom, did they consider me desirable? Did the thought of fucking me cross my mind, even if I had no desire to be fucked? So many possibilities to consider. So many outcomes to revel over.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on August 29, 2017, 07:54:51 PM
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Reading things like this always makes me think of all the men I grew up around as a girl. Were they thinking the same things? Even when I was young and just beginning to blossom, did they consider me desirable. Did the thought of fucking me cross their mind, even if I had no desire to be fucked? So many possibilities to consider. So many outcomes to revel over.

Some did, but those of us that find such thoughts cross our minds, we don't act upon those thoughts; at least those of us that are decent don't.

This story will be not be about decent men.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on August 30, 2017, 06:58:54 AM
I Hate These Things

It began when they first started to hurt, and then there was this new hardness under my nipples.  It seemed to be the left one first, but then the other one too.  I complained to momma, and she looked at me strangely and said I was too young.  I didn’t know what she meant then.  When they began to swell, even I knew what was going on even before momma told me.  Momma’s are big.  I expect mine will be too one day.

Ever since I can remember Billy was my friend.  I had girls that were friends come and go, but Billy was always there.  That was until I got these things.  Billy got weird then, and he started calling me ‘Boobies’ and could talk of nothing else.  Then one day he pulled me close and grabbed one squeezing it twice yelling, “Honk…honk!”

That was the end of the friendship I had with Billy.  It wasn’t my fault.  I didn’t tell.  It was one of the other girls who saw.  She told her mother, who told my mother, who then called Billy’s mother.  And then that was that.

It wasn’t just Billy, or even just other boys.  Everywhere I went it seemed liked they looked at me, boys and men I mean.  That was the other thing.  Silly boys looking at me I could handle, it was the grownup men.  At first I thought they were looking at my face.  They weren’t.  They were looking lower, they were looking at my breasts.  When I figured that out, I just wanted to disappear.

It was awful.  I had to wear a bra, but I hated that too, a lot.  The bra itched.  It felt like it was strangling me around my chest.  I would sneak out without a bra, but then I would get stared at even more.  I avoided wearing one, but then I had to avoid men when I did.  They looked at me even harder when I didn’t wear a bra.  I knew it was because my nipples would show.

I felt all fluttery inside when they looked at me, the men not the silly boys.  It was more than just being uncomfortable with their stares, the men.  It was the way I felt, not just in my head.  Stuff would happen, weird stuff.  Somehow them looking at my nipples would make them get hard.  And when they got hard, they would show even more like my nipples wanted the men to look at them.  If that wasn’t weird enough, I would also get wet down there.  It made no sense, but I would.  It made me feel nasty and dirty, but also good in a weird way.

I hated it when my panties got wet, I think.  There was a part of it that felt good too, weird but good.  The men would look at me, and I would feel my face turn red, my nipples would get hard, and then I could feel my panties getting wet.  When the men looked at me, I wondered if it meant they wanted to do things with me that men and women do.  Thinking about that made the wetness even worse.  I wasn’t supposed to go out without a bra for over 6 months now, almost a whole year, but I still did.  I told myself I hated when men looked at me and saw my nipples, but deep down I knew that was a lie.

I didn’t have very many bras, and they always seemed to be too small.  Sometimes I didn’t wear one because I had none clean.  Mom complained about having to buy new ones every couple months.  It wasn’t my fault my breasts were growing so fast.  It started in the fall, so it wasn’t so bad.  I could hide them under sweaters and coats especially during the winter.  Then spring came and went, and I wasn’t able to hide them anymore in the summer heat.  That’s when I lost Billy as a friend, and the men really started to look at me.

The thing is about the men looking at me.  I looked at them too.  Sometimes I looked at older boys, but it was mostly the grownups.  I noticed sometimes the men I looked at most looked a little like dad.  I couldn’t help sometimes but glance at them lower down and wonder.  I saw Billy’s once when we were about 6.  He was peeing outside and I peeked from behind a bush.  It was a tiny thing, and I figured men had ones that were much bigger.  I couldn’t help but wonder about those things, and when I did, it happened again.  My face would flush, my nipples would get hard and my panties would get wet.  I just hate it.  What’s wrong with me?
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Emily on August 30, 2017, 11:45:34 AM
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Reading things like this always makes me think of all the men I grew up around as a girl. Were they thinking the same things? Even when I was young and just beginning to blossom, did they consider me desirable. Did the thought of fucking me cross their mind, even if I had no desire to be fucked? So many possibilities to consider. So many outcomes to revel over.

Some did, but those of us that find such thoughts cross our minds, we don't act upon those thoughts; at least those of us that are decent don't.

This story will be not be about decent men.

Then you'll certainly forgive me for reading this story, and thinking about it from my own perspective. This should be fun, hehe. :)
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on August 30, 2017, 01:48:56 PM
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Reading things like this always makes me think of all the men I grew up around as a girl. Were they thinking the same things? Even when I was young and just beginning to blossom, did they consider me desirable. Did the thought of fucking me cross their mind, even if I had no desire to be fucked? So many possibilities to consider. So many outcomes to revel over.

Some did, but those of us that find such thoughts cross our minds, we don't act upon those thoughts; at least those of us that are decent don't.

This story will be not be about decent men.

Then you'll certainly forgive me for reading this story, and thinking about it from my own perspective. This should be fun, hehe. :)

And when you read a story about a young girl being used, you don't usually picture yourself as the girl?
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on August 30, 2017, 09:00:38 PM
The Hooch Show

Every summer the carnival came to our town.  It was a big deal especially for us that lived so close to the fairgrounds.  Having it a short walk away meant we didn’t have to beg to be taken by car, have our parents there the whole time or have to leave when they wanted.  I did have to be home by dark, but starting a couple years ago I would sneak back out after pretending to go to bed.  The carnival went on until late, and it was very different after dark.

I didn’t have enough money to get on very many rides or to eat much.  Mom would always say wait until the ride goes a few times, don’t be the first on.  She said it was in case the ride broke.  She said people could die.  I never saw a ride break though.  I mostly hung out with other kids and walked around.  It started on Wednesday and went to Sunday.  I think Monday and Tuesday was about packing up and going to another town.

I saw dad there that first day, Wednesday.  He was in the beer tent with his friends, but then left very early I knew because of work the next day.  It was just mom and me now, dad had moved across town a couple years ago.  I saw him often, but it was still not enough.

I knew about the hooch show.  The girls would come out wearing skimpy outfits, and men would rush over to look at them.  I knew they wanted the men to pay money to go inside the tent.  I couldn’t help wondering what went on inside that tent.  Boys told me they would sneak peeks under the tent, but men working for the carnival would chase them away.  Sometimes they would catch a boy and scare him really bad.

I went to bed early that Wednesday and so did mom.  She fell asleep quick, and I slipped out the window.  I just had on a t-shirt with no bra and short shorts.  The shorts were kinda tight, but then my hips had gotten big just like my breasts.  It was only a little after 9PM when I got back to the carnival, and I was the only kid I saw.  I knew others should be around, but I didn’t see any.  I snuck over by the hooch show to look.  The hoochie girls were coming out to get more men interested in the next show.

There was an ugly fat man wearing bib overalls with no shirt.  He was eating a whole quarter of a large watermelon and hurried over to the girls as fast as his fat body let him.  His fat belly looked sticky from the watermelon juice.  I saw him lift the watermelon to a girl on the platform, and she leaned down brushing her dark hair back and took a little bite.  All the men watched her intently, and the fat man laughed.  After she bit and leaned back up, he took a bite right where she had bit and laughed again.

There were 5 of the girls, and soon they went inside, and men lined up to pay to go in.  I don’t know what came over me, but I wanted to see inside.  I looked around to see if the men that watched for kids were looking, and just then I saw him looking right at me.  It was the guy that watched for kids and chased them away, and he was staring right at me from only about 10 feet away.  He looked kinda mean, and I was afraid.  I was suddenly very conscious of not having a bra on, and looked down.  My nipples were showing, but not too bad.  I looked back up, and the man had walked away.

With him gone, I don’t know what came over me.  I ran around behind the tent.  No one was there, and it was dark, so I crawled under the tent.  It was really dark, and I realized I was under some sort of wood platform like they had outside.  It was a stage for the girls.  It seemed like it was about 4 feet high.  I could almost stand up under it.  I’m 4’9” now and getting taller it seemed every day, growing that way too, not just filling out.

I wasn’t sure if I could see anything, but there was a crack in the wood to one side where I could see light coming in.  I got close and looked.  The stage was U-shaped, so on this far side I could see the other side of the U and the back.  I could see a couple of the girls getting on the stage and could hear a couple above me clumping on the wood.  I watched while the girls danced, and then they began stripping what little clothes they had on.  I watched them, but really I was watching the men and how they acted towards the girls.

The men were putting dollar bills in the girl’s bottoms and tops.  Then I saw a man wave a 5 dollar bill to a girl.  She leaned way down and pulled her top down baring her breast.  The man reached up and began squeezing it.  I was stunned to see her let him do that.  She only let him do it for a little bit, then took the bill and stood back up.  I saw other men do the same thing, offer 5 dollar bills to squeeze one of the girls.  It was making me feel funny.  I kept thinking about the men squeezing me, and I could feel my nipples get hard, and I got a little wet down there.  And then a man held a whole 10 dollar bill out.  I couldn’t believe what happened next.  A girl pulled her bottom out, and the man stuck his hand right in her panties.  I could see him work his fingers in there, but then the girl snatched the bill out of his hands and turned away.

I guess I was really distracted by what I was seeing, because I didn’t hear him at all.  I smelled him first and knew he was there, but for some reason I didn’t turn around.  The smell reminded me of my dad and how he used to smell when he came home from work.  It was the smell of a man that did an honest day’s work.  When he used to live with us, I used to run to him when he came through the door and shove my face in his chest to smell him.  I loved to smell my daddy that way.  He would hug me for a bit, and then go take a shower.  I liked how he smelled after the shower too, but not as much as when he was all sweaty and smelling like a working man.

That was the same man smell I recognized under the wooden stage there inside the hooch show.  I don’t know why I didn’t turn around to look at him.  I knew he was there.  And then he put a big rough hand over my mouth and whispered, “What are you looking at little bird, the girls?”
I was suddenly really scared, and I shook my head as much as his hand would let me.
Then he whispered again, “Are you looking at the men looking at those girls?”
I was and I wanted to lie about it, but my head nodded ‘yes’ to him.

I was really scared and getting more scared every second, and then he asked in a whisper, “You want to be one of those girls being touched by the men?”
This time I shook my head ‘no’, but then he whispered, “Liar.”
I couldn’t speak to deny it, but deep down I knew he was right.

It was then I tried to struggle away from him, but his other hand had a grip on my hip and waist.  I tried to pull on his hand over my mouth and then the other one holding me, but it was like trying to move an oak tree.  The hand on my hip moved to my belly under my shirt.  I started to think he wouldn’t dare, but then the hand moved up under my shirt.

When he cupped my breast under my shirt I tried to scream, but all that came out was a muffled squeal.  I struggled but he held me hard.  His hand squeezed and caressed my breast and then he got my nipple between his fingers and pinched it tight.  I could feel it getting real hard, and then I heard myself moan and my body seemed to move on its own.  I was pressing my breast against his hand, but I didn’t want to.  He just kept touching me, both of my breasts under my shirt making me moan and squirm and push against his hand.  I didn’t know what was wrong with me.  It was like I had no control over my body.

I knew I was getting wet, and all I could think of was I didn’t want him to know that.  It was almost like he read my mind.  His hand stopped squeezing my breasts and quickly moved down.  Before I knew it, he had unsnapped my shorts.  I knew I was in really big trouble then, and tried to struggle harder.  It didn’t help.  He held me good and hard.  He fumbled a little, and then slowly pulled down the zipper to my shorts.  It was then I knew I couldn’t stop him from doing what he wanted.  I was really scared.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Emily on August 31, 2017, 12:00:22 PM
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Reading things like this always makes me think of all the men I grew up around as a girl. Were they thinking the same things? Even when I was young and just beginning to blossom, did they consider me desirable. Did the thought of fucking me cross their mind, even if I had no desire to be fucked? So many possibilities to consider. So many outcomes to revel over.

Some did, but those of us that find such thoughts cross our minds, we don't act upon those thoughts; at least those of us that are decent don't.

This story will be not be about decent men.

Then you'll certainly forgive me for reading this story, and thinking about it from my own perspective. This should be fun, hehe. :)

And when you read a story about a young girl being used, you don't usually picture yourself as the girl?

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. Depends on the story, really. Let's just say that I hope you're thinking of me as that girl as you write this. How's that for a bit of inspiration?

Oh, and plus those last few paragraphs are incredibly hot and well-written. I'm getting wetter than she is just reading it! :)
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on August 31, 2017, 05:28:33 PM
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Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. Depends on the story, really. Let's just say that I hope you're thinking of me as that girl as you write this. How's that for a bit of inspiration?

Oh, and plus those last few paragraphs are incredibly hot and well-written. I'm getting wetter than she is just reading it! :)

You as a an awkward young girl struggling with new hormones surging inside you causing new feelings and desires, and you suddenly find yourself being firmly handled by a rough man like me?  You feel strange and completely lacking in confidence, unlike the man making you squirm and do things as he confidently touches you?
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Emily on August 31, 2017, 05:53:41 PM
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Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. Depends on the story, really. Let's just say that I hope you're thinking of me as that girl as you write this. How's that for a bit of inspiration?

Oh, and plus those last few paragraphs are incredibly hot and well-written. I'm getting wetter than she is just reading it! :)

You as a an awkward young girl struggling with new hormones surging inside you causing new feelings and desires, and you suddenly find yourself being firmly handled by a rough man like me?  You feel strange and completely lacking in confidence, unlike the man making you squirm and do things as he confidently touches you?

That sums it up quite nicely, yes.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on August 31, 2017, 06:43:38 PM
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Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. Depends on the story, really. Let's just say that I hope you're thinking of me as that girl as you write this. How's that for a bit of inspiration?

Oh, and plus those last few paragraphs are incredibly hot and well-written. I'm getting wetter than she is just reading it! :)

You as a an awkward young girl struggling with new hormones surging inside you causing new feelings and desires, and you suddenly find yourself being firmly handled by a rough man like me?  You feel strange and completely lacking in confidence, unlike the man making you squirm and do things as he confidently touches you?

That sums it up quite nicely, yes.

I thought maybe.

I have another post, just need to proof it at least one more time.  It will be up either tonight or early AM tomorrow.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: gscmar64 on August 31, 2017, 07:27:21 PM
From one older man to another I can relate to what you're writing here!
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on August 31, 2017, 09:15:47 PM
Helpless to His Touch

I was so scared.  I had mostly stopped struggling, but I could feel tears and knew I was crying.  Once he had my shorts unfastened, he pushed them off one of my hips, and then the other, and then down and past my knees.  For some reason, I was glad he couldn’t see well.  My hair down there was a little darker than the blond hair on my head and more curly.  Somehow, I thought that if he couldn’t see it, meant nothing more was going to happen.  I was wrong.

I tried to clamp my legs shut, but he still worked his hand in there.  And then he pinched inside my thigh until it hurt so bad I opened my legs some.  His lips near my ear whispered again, “Wider.”
He was pressing inside my legs, so I knew he meant I should open my legs wider to let him get his hand in there better.  I didn’t want to, but when he told me I had to, I did it.  He slid a finger down there, and I heard myself moan against his hand over my mouth even louder than I did when he fondled my breasts.

His finger sliding along my button made it feel like it was on fire.  It was sliding in my folds too, but it was the rubbing on my button that was making me squirm and moan.  I felt so ashamed, but then he whispered again to me, “That’s one soaked pussy you got little bird.  Now stop pretending you don’t love my hands on your body and just relax dirty girl.”

I was mortified.  I felt more shame than I ever did in my life from his words.  His hand down there felt how wet I was, and I knew I was the dirty girl he said I was.  He whispered the word, “Relax,” again, and I felt myself stop struggling.  I was still squirming, but I wasn’t trying to get out of his grip any more.  The squirming was because of what he was doing with his fingers.  Then I noticed I had opened my legs even wider for his hand down there.  That had pushed my shorts and panties from my knees down to my ankles.  At one point his finger pressed inside me a little.  I could feel him find some resistance, and he gave a little grunt.  I wondered if that meant he knew I was a virgin.

He let go of my mouth just then, and I began gasping for air like I had been suffocated.  He took hold of my t-shirt and pulled it up.  I don’t know why, but I lifted my arms letting him pull it over my head.  Now he had one hand rubbing between my legs and another pinching one of my nipples.  All I could do was moan and quiver feeling his hands on me.  It was like I had no control at all over my body.  Here I was naked with his hands on me, and I was helpless to his touch.

My head started to feel weird like it was buzzing, and I could feel my whole body rocking as I moaned even louder.  And then it happened.  I’m glad he put his hand over my mouth, because I screamed into it.  It was like waves of it passing over me, going on and on, and I could feel a gush of water leave my body.  I was shaking really bad and thought for a second I had peed, but then I didn’t think so.  And then I felt really ashamed again, especially when I could hear him chuckling in my ear.  I was a little stunned at what happened.  I was ashamed too, and I knew part of that was because what happened felt really good.  It was the most incredible thing I ever felt.

It had been loud in the tent up until then, but that had stopped.  I guess the show was over and the girls had gone back out to get more men interested in the next show.  It wasn’t exactly quiet.  Carnivals at night never are, but it seemed like it just then.  Here I was sitting in the grass under the hooch stage basically naked except my shorts and panties stuck on one shoe.  I was still shaking, and I could feel myself suddenly quiver again from what happened.  It was like another little thrill running through me, and then I quivered again.

He had let go of me, but I didn’t try and move or even look for my shirt.  I heard him fumbling, and then I heard a metal clinking.  I knew then he was undoing his belt and pants, and I knew that meant he wasn’t done with me.  I wanted to jump up and run, but I just sat there naked and started crying again.  I thought I was scared before, but I was now terrified hearing him open his pants and knowing what was inside.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on September 02, 2017, 09:46:07 AM
A Dirty Slut Yearning to Get Out

I expected him to push me down on the grass and get on top of me, but he didn’t.  He did make me turn towards him.  It was dark, but not so dark I couldn’t see it.  It was bigger than I thought it would be sticking out of his pants like that, and it was so scary close to my face like that.  I could smell his man smell really strong now.  I didn’t want to like smell, but I did.

His hands were in my hair pulling me even closer to it.  It was right in front of my face, and I whispered, “Are you going to take my virginity?”
“Only if I get impatient with how well you do this little bird.”
“This?” I whispered confused.
“You do know what a blow job is don’t you little bird?”
“Please, I don’t want to.”
“You’ll do it, and you better do it good, or I will take your virginity, right now here in the grass.”
“Please, no…..”
“There’s a dirty slut inside you yearning to get out.  Just this once, I’ll be satisfied with a decent blow job.”
“Please…”

I didn’t want him to rape me, but I didn’t want that thing in my mouth either.  I tried to turn away, but he got a grip on my hair and forced my face right to it pressing it against my lips and said, “Open up little bird.”

I shook my head ‘no’, but then he pinched my nose shut.  When I couldn’t breathe, my mouth popped open for air.  And then it was suddenly in my mouth stretching my lips open.  It tasted like he smelled and wasn’t as bad as I expected.  His hands were in my hair forcing it further in my mouth until I started to gag and tried to pull back.  He held it there and spoke, “I better not feel any teeth little bird, or I’ll punch your face until I knock all your teeth out, and then I’ll fuck you bloody.”

I was terrified, and nodded best I could with it in my mouth.  I pressed my lips tight around it not knowing what to do, but with a grip on my hair he began forcing my head up and down giving me instructions on how to suck on it.  He moved my hand to it too. and told me to grip it and move my hand just under my mouth, and squeeze it around the base when it moved out of my mouth.  When I gagged on it, he told me to relax.  Pretty soon my hand on it got slick from my drool and it slid better.  I could tell he liked that by how he breathed.  He had lay back in the grass, and I was moving my head mostly on my own now.

It was weird.  I felt disgusted by what he was making me do and humiliated too, but I was also proud he seemed to like it.  I never did it before, but maybe I wasn’t doing it so bad?  It didn’t make sense being worried about doing it good, when I didn’t want to do it at all.  I felt his hands in my hair tighten until I couldn’t move.  It was deep in my mouth, and I wondered if that was it, and he was done.

He moved us sideways with it still in my mouth.  I was still wondering if we were done when he started to move.  It was slow at first, and I heard him say, “You got a lot to learn, but you’re not awful for your first time.  Now, let’s see how you handle being face fucked.”

I had no clue what that meant, but then he started to move faster.  Almost immediately I was having trouble breathing, and I kept gagging from him pushing it too deep.  I forgot to keep using my hand, so he told me to.  I had sort of gotten less scared when I was mostly doing it myself, but now I was really scared again.  I was sure he was going to choke me to death.  I was squealing around it in my mouth, but he wouldn’t stop slamming his hips into my face and forcing it too deep in my mouth.

I seemed to be just hanging on for dear life while he humped my face.  He not only was breathing hard, he was grunting some now too.  I had stopped squealing and was just trying not to choke and pass out.  I could tell I was still sucking on it and squeezing it with my hand.  I guess I was hoping it would hurry him up, but it also seemed sort of the natural thing to do.

All of a sudden his whole body stiffened, and he groaned really loud.  I felt it twitch, and then there was this salty slimy gushing mess in my mouth.  It twitched a couple more times, and each time more of that mess spurted in my mouth.  I was trying to pull away to spit it out, but he wouldn’t let go of my head.  I was squealing again choking on the slimy mess, when I heard him tell me to swallow.  I didn’t want to, but I had to breath.  I swallowed, and then gagged at the thought of it.  I’m not sure how I didn’t throw up.  I had to swallow a couple more times before his hands relaxed a little, and I could breathe better.

I could feel it soften some, but he still wouldn’t let go of my head.  I just wanted his thing out of my mouth, and I wanted to go home.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Plaything on September 02, 2017, 10:25:55 PM
Very nice Jed . . .I get back from vacation and you have a new story!   ;)
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: vile8r on September 03, 2017, 03:03:57 PM
New work from Jed! Always a good thing to see!
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Emily on September 04, 2017, 03:44:04 PM
Do this girl, and the one in your story, a favour: please see this to it's conclusion! :)
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on September 05, 2017, 02:18:36 AM
Thank you Plaything, vile and Emily.

I have this one pretty clear in my head all the way to the end, which is a long ways from cumming...um, coming.

I'm writing so fast I may need to look back and make typo corrections or minor edits once in a while.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on September 05, 2017, 02:20:44 AM
Please Just Let Me Go Home

“You want to go home don’t you little bird?”
He wouldn’t let go of my head, and it was still in my mouth, so I just nodded and managed, “Um huh.”
“You can go home under one condition.”
I was dreading what that might be and waited until he said, “You have to cum for me again with my cock still in your mouth little bird.”

I heard myself let out a choking sob, and I felt so ashamed.  He reached under me with both hands and began playing with both my breasts.  I started to try and push his thing out of my mouth, but his hands were immediately back in my hair pulling it and hurting me.  He smacked me really hard on top of my head and said really mean, “I said keep my cock in your mouth.”

He went back to playing with my breasts and pulling on my nipples.  I couldn’t help it and began squirming like before pressing them against his hands.  It was hard to control myself, and it was hard to keep his thing in my mouth, I was moving around so much.  It was like he was playing me like a musical instrument; touching me a certain way, and I’d move; touch me again, and I moved again.

While his fingers were pulling on one of my nipples, I could feel his other hand sliding down my back.  He squeezed my butt, and then tickled down my crack to my special place again.  I could feel his fingers teasing, and I could feel my face turn really red and my body move.  I knew with shame he could feel I was wet for him again.

He rubbed my button again, and I could hear myself moan around his thing.  I knew I was really wet, and I could feel him spread some of my wetness along my butt crack.  He seemed to circle my butt hole with his finger getting it wet, and then his finger was back down in my folds and touching my button.  He seemed to stop moving his finger for a second, and then he did something I wasn’t prepared for.

I yelled around his thing almost losing it in my mouth.  He had pushed what must have been his thumb in my butt.  I tried to clench down on it and push it out, but he worked it in even deeper and whispered, “Relax.”

His finger began moving again, and I moaned and could feel myself relax on his thumb and him push it in as far as it would go.  His finger was moving slowly in my folds just barely touching my button.  I could feel myself moving in rhythm to his finger.  It was then I realized I had started sucking on his thing again.  It made no sense.  I wanted it out of my mouth, and now I was sucking on it again also in rhythm to his finger.  I could feel it growing and stiffening in my mouth, and he said, “That’s it little bird, show me what a dirty slut you are.”

I was so ashamed, but that wasn’t all.  I knew I was incredibly aroused.  It was all too much, and all of it was really turning me on.  Especially his hands on my body and his finger rubbing me down there, but even his thumb moving in my butt, his thing now hard again in my mouth and even his words calling me a dirty slut all had me on fire.  It was then I shook and did it again.

It was another orgasm, but it wasn’t as intense as the one earlier.  I wanted another one like that and briefly felt disappointed.  Briefly, because almost immediately I could tell I wasn’t done.  His finger was still driving me crazy.  Him calling me a dirty slut was ringing in my head, and right then I wanted to be his dirty slut.

I began moving my head even faster sucking on him as strongly as I could.  I wanted to please him, and I wanted to cum again like he said.  I knew it was wrong, and I was still really ashamed.  I didn’t care right then, and the shame only made me more turned on.  I was hungrily working him into my mouth and pushing my crotch onto his hand.  I could feel my head swimming and it was building again.  I knew it was going to be intense again, and I yearned for it.  It erupted in me, and as soon as my mouth opened wide to try and scream, he did it again too.  My scream turned into a gurgle as his stuff splashed against my throat.

I choked on it, and then just swallowed by instinct.  I could feel the waves of my orgasm pass over me, and I sucked again on him like I was trying to get the last drops.  And then I sort of went limp, and I heard myself giggle.  It was still in my mouth, but I giggled around it and then got quiet.

This time he instead of making me keep it in my mouth, he pushed me away like he was discarding trash.  I heard him fastening his pants, and then because he was too tall to leave any other way, he crawled to the tent.  Just before he ducked under the tent flap, he looked back and said, “You can go home now little bird.”

And, then he was gone.  I don’t know how long I sat there in the grass in a daze.  It had gotten darker, and it was really hard to see.  It also was mostly quiet.  The noises on the stage and in the tent had stopped, so the last show must have ended.  I had got to the point where I didn’t hear that any more, but I was now noticing the quiet.  At some point, I felt around finding my shorts and then my panties.  I had one shoe still on, and then found the other one.  It took longer to find my shirt.  I would have left without it, but there were still people around to see me.

I walked home crying.  All that was left was the shame.  I could remember the pleasure and giggling, but now that just seemed weird and wrong.  I could not stop thinking about how when he was done with me, he just pushed me away and left.  I felt the worst I ever did in my life.  It was far worse than when daddy left.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Emily on September 05, 2017, 01:23:31 PM
Another lovely chapter, yay! Sucks that he didn't finish what he started but somehow, I feel like things ain't over for our little heroine!
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on September 09, 2017, 12:25:19 PM
I Can’t Stop Thinking About Him

I didn’t sleep well all night, and I didn’t go to the carnival that day on Thursday with the other kids.  I lied and told mom I didn’t feel well and stayed in bed until well after noon.  I also went to bed early and lay there thinking of him, and what he did to me, and what he made me do.  The worst thing being how he pushed me away when he was done with me.  I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him.  It was like I could feel his hands on me while I tried to sleep.  I looked and it was almost 10PM, and I still couldn’t stop thinking about him.  I knew I didn’t want him to see me or make me do anything ever again, but I had to get another look at him.  So then, I finally got up and got dressed and sneaked out and walked the 15 minutes it took to get to the fairgrounds.

At the carnival, I hung in the shadows.  Drunken men walked by and tried to talk to me, shouting nasty things about my body.  One even tried to grab my arm, but I slipped away from him.  I was looking for him, but I didn’t want him to see me.  I was afraid of what would happen if he did.  I finally found him over by the dunking booth.

Last year someone told me there was always a man or two that hung back behind the dunking booth.  The man in clown makeup in the dunking cage made people mad, and made them want to dunk him.  He would yell things at the men, and insult them to get them to pay for and throw balls to dunk him.  Sometimes the clown made people so mad, they wanted to hurt him.  The men who watched were there in case someone wanted to try and beat him up.  I guess that was what he was doing there, protecting the clown dunking man.

He was with another guy talking, and then he turned and looked right at me.  I don’t know how he knew I was there or could even see me in the dark.  I was frozen in place, and he began walking towards me.  I wanted to run, but my legs turned to jello.  And then he was there and put his rough big hand on my neck squeezing.  I knew then I was lost, and my shoulders slumped in defeat.

He led me by the neck around and between tents and through a back gate.  It was not a gate for getting in or out of the carnival.  It was where the carnival people had their trucks and trailers and stuff.  He led me to on old dented, rusty and dirty trailer and opened the door pushing me inside.  Once inside he pushed me towards a bed in the back and ordered, “Take your clothes off little bird.”

I stood there next to the bed, my head down and whispered, “You’re really going to take my virginity this time aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“But I don’t want you to, please don’t.” my shaky voice getting pleading.
“Even you know it’s too late to stop that.”

Somehow, I did know that.  I knew I was defeated.  I didn’t have to come back to the carnival and find him, but I did.  I could have run when he looked at me, but I don’t think I wanted to.  I brushed a few tears off my cheek, and looked at his hard stare and stern face.  Under his gaze, I knew what I had to do and began undressing.  I was slow on purpose somehow hoping he would say, ‘Never mind,’ but he didn’t.  I expected him to tell me to get undressed faster, but he patiently watched me.

Even before I met him, I suspected there was something really wrong with me.  Now undressing in front of him, I was positive there was something broken and damaged about me.  I know I’m way too young for sex.  It seems like it was only yesterday I didn’t have breasts or any hair down there, but now as I pushed my panties off my hips letting them drop to the floor, I still felt like a little kid.  Now naked in front of this much older and larger man, I briefly went to cover my chest and crotch with my arm and hands, and then dropped them to my sides knowing how useless that was.  The reason why I knew I was broken and damaged was despite my fear of what he was about to do, I was also completely turned on and already a little wet from undressing for him.

He had me sit on the bed next to him while he undressed.  I inhaled the smell of him again with him so close, that intoxicating man smell.  Once he was naked, and I could see him far better than before, I found I couldn’t look.  While I averted my gaze, I could see him put an old tattered blanket down on the bed.  What happened next surprised me.  He put something up to my neck, around it and then buckled it.  He then hooked it to a strap to it.  I knew what it was, a dog collar, and he just leashed me like I was his pet.

I felt a shudder go through my body thinking about being his pet.  The shudder wasn’t all bad despite me wanting to hate it.  He pulled me up on his lap then, his hand on my body like last night touching my breasts and almost immediately I heard myself moan.  I could feel it hard under me so very close to my vagina.  Then he did something that for some reason surprised me.  He kissed me.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss I ever experienced.  His mouth was open and his tongue forced its way into my mouth.  I was moaning into his mouth and kissing him back.  I don’t know when I did it, but my arms were around his neck while we kissed.  He turned and very slowly pushed me down on the tattered blanket.  I began panicking then and started to struggle.  Once he got me on my back I struggled even harder, and that’s when he slapped me across the face really hard, and said in a mild and not even angry voice, “Nothing is stopping this, so you might as well quit that.”

My face stung from the slap, and while I was in a little shock at being slapped, something I’m not sure ever happened to me, it seemed to instantly calm me.  He took the grip of the leash and tied in through a metal eyehook in the wall.  I watched in fascination knowing I could easily untie it.  Somehow my eyes wandered and I saw there were more of these eyehooks around the sides and back of the bed that were the walls of the trailer.  Seeing him tie the leach to one had me envisioning tying girls was the reason for them.  I couldn’t help it, but the thought of being tied up in his bed brought me right back to being very turned on.

His knees pushing between my knees to open my legs brought my attention back to him.  It seemed to be very practiced, the motion he made that forced my legs open until they were widely spread.  As he lowered himself between my legs, I wanted to try and push him away.  Instead, I found my hands on his hips just holding them.  I then felt it, that thing that had been in my mouth, probing me down there.  I realized I was whispering a prayer.  I haven’t prayed since I was 6, but I was now.  He had it right there at my folds, and I tensed waiting for it.

Already wincing in anticipation with my whole body rigid, I thought to myself, this is really going to hurt.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Emily on September 09, 2017, 02:41:15 PM
Thank for keeping your promise and posting this today! :D
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on September 11, 2017, 10:17:00 PM
Deflowered

There was so much tension and anticipation in me, so when he didn’t just shove it in, I was surprised.  I could feel the tip of his hard thing rubbing around.  With shame, I knew he was wetting the tip with my wetness from being turned on.  And then he rubbed it against my button, and my whole body jerked.  He did it again, and I moaned.  I knew then it was no accident.  He was trying to turn me on, and it was working.  I could feel my legs open even wider as if I was welcoming him in.  I wasn’t as tense either.  I had relaxed some.  I was still terrified, but I was no longer stiff.  I was still shaking like crazy though in anticipation.

He kept rubbing it around until I began to squirm and moan.  My folds and my button are kind of inside me, and his thing was now pressing right in there pushing me open.  It felt scary big, rubbing around and pressing.  He seemed to be pushing it in a little deeper each time until I could feel it stretching me open, and then it seemed to be blocked.  He stopped then, and lifted himself up.  I could sense him looking down at my face.  He was so tall, that to look at his face I had to tilt my head back.  He was smiling and said, “Look at those blue eyes now that I have you in the light.  You’re not just a little bird, you’re a little bluebird.”

With that I could feel him give a long steady push.  That’s when it started hurting.  A little at first as the pressure inside me began to build.  It seemed like my insides couldn’t stop him any longer, and I put my hand in my mouth and bit down.  Just then it was like something tore hurtfully inside me, and I could feel his thing slide into me.  I heard myself groan very loud into my hand and then whimper.  I didn’t scream like I thought I would, but I almost did.  It really hurt.

He was moving slowly like he was testing how deep he could go.  I pulled my hand out of my mouth and saw I had actually broke the skin when I bit down on it with a trickle of blood from a few of the bite marks.  I was wincing each time he pushed in and whimpering continuously.  I had my hands back on his sides again as if to push him away, but I wasn’t trying to push him knowing it wouldn’t do any good.  My hands were just resting there moving with his movements.  He reached back and pulled my ankle up to his hip, and then the other one too.  I guessed he wanted me to wrap my legs around his moving body, so I did it afraid he would be mad if I didn’t.

After that I just held onto him while he pushed it in me and in me and did it again and again.  He felt so huge inside me, like something way too big to be in there.  I wasn’t some stupid girl.  I knew what was happening.  Some man maybe three times my age just took my virginity and was fucking me.  It was just crazy this was happening, and I kept thinking about all the things I could have done to prevent it.  Why did I have to look at the hooch girls and the men watching and touching them, and why did I have to come back to try and see him?

I wasn’t just thinking about his thing inside me moving in and out.  That collar tight around my neck wasn’t letting me forget it was there either, and the leash tied to the hook was making me feel trapped more than his body on top of me.  A little bit in a daze I looked around and saw the other hooks around the bed.  They didn’t make any sense except for tying something, like tying girls to them like me.  I could see how old, worn and tarnished they looked.  Like they had been used a lot, like lots of girls had been tied up in this bed.  I kept telling myself I could untie the leash with no problem.  It wouldn’t be that hard to pick at the knot.  But it kept bothering me, because why have these hooks to tie girls to if they could easily untie themselves?

I lay under him my whole body moving as he repeatedly thrust into me.  The first sharp hurt changed to me getting really sore.  Sometimes he went too deep seeming to push my insides up, and I squealed little in pain.  I knew he wouldn’t stop until he was done.  I was dreading that, and what would happen when he did finish.  But it was really hurting now, and I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore.  I was getting really scared if he didn’t stop soon he was going to kill me with it, so I begged him, “Please hurry up.  It hurts.  It hurts!”

I heard him grunt in his heavy breathing, and then he taunted me by asking, “You want my cum inside you little bluebird?”

I didn’t want that at all, but I was desperate for him to be done with me.  All I could say to him was, “Please!”

“Please what?”
“Please!”
“Beg me to cum in you my little bluebird and maybe this will end.”

I could feel my face flush with shame because I knew I was going to do it, and hating myself I said it, “Please cum in me!”

“You can do better than that my slutty little bluebird.  Tell me how much you love my cock and want my cum inside you.”

I swallowed hard mortified by what he was asking, but it hurt so much I began to desperately do what he said and began begging, “Please cum in me!  I love your cock!  Oh god, please don’t make me do this.  Oh god.  Oh god………..Please cum in me!  I love your cock so much….please!”

I didn’t know what to say and just kept repeating the same words until I was sobbing so bad all that was coming out was choking sobs.  And then he was doing it even faster, and it hurt so bad all I did was scream.  He seemed to jerk against me, and then he went stiff.  That’s when he stopped moving, his body anyway.  I could feel it inside me throb, and then there was wetness.  I knew it was the same stuff he made me swallow, swallow twice.  It was almost familiar, like it spurting in me down there felt sort of the same as in my throat, except I didn’t choke and have to swallow.

He breathed hard for maybe a minute, and then pulled out of me.  It was a sickly disgusting feeling, almost like I had pooped feeling it leave my body.  He rolled off me, and I could feel the slimy wetness running out between my legs feeling messy and nasty.  I saw it then, his thing, and there was blood on it, my blood.  It wasn’t a bunch, but it scared me I was bleeding.  He pulled on the old blanket I was on, and then touched it to me.  There was some blood, and he dabbed at my sore crotch a couple more times until no blood stained the blanket, then he wiped himself with it.  He yanked the blanket out from under me and tossed it on the floor.

I don’t know what I expected after?  I think I thought he would shove me away just like before and tell me I can go home, which was why I was shocked at what he did do.  He pulled my arms behind my back, and I heard a click and felt metal and something soft around my wrist.  There was another click on my other wrist, and I suddenly realized he put me in handcuffs lined with something like felt.  It was then I realized I no longer could reach to unbuckle the collar or untie the leash.  I couldn’t leave his bed unless he let me go, so I pleaded with him, “Please, I need to go home.”
“We have all night.  If I like how you act, maybe you can go home in the morning.”

There naked and cuffed helpless in his bed, feeling his naked body breathing slowly against me, I was softly crying and wondering why I came looking for him.  But that wasn’t all I was wondering about, because I knew he wasn’t done with me.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: vile8r on September 12, 2017, 10:18:16 PM
Good read, Jed! I love the first-person POV by the girl.....very creative!
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on September 20, 2017, 08:31:40 PM
His Leashed Pet

He slept, but I didn’t.  I had no clock to look at to know how late it was or how long I lay awake.  It seemed maybe an hour or two, and then I felt him stir.  I wasn’t sure if he woke or not, but then I felt his hands on me, those awful hands that make me squirm.  His hands were on my breasts and butt, and then I started crying when he touched my crotch.  It was very sore from him doing it to me.  I was terrified he was going to do it again, stick it in me, and I began crying louder.

It was so sore.  I was afraid he would shove a finger in me or rub it hard, but he just lightly touched me.  I both hated his fingers there and liked it, especially with him being gentle.  It was then I felt it getting hard and poking me in my thigh.  It was so close to my crotch hard and throbbing, and I knew he wanted me again.  My crying got worse, and I guess he knew exactly what was on my mind and said, “If you think your pussy is too sore little bluebird to get fucked again so soon, I’ll let you suck me off instead like the other night.”

In the middle of crying there in the dark, I found myself nodding in agreement and relief.  But even while I knew I would do it, I wondered what was wrong with me that I would agree so easily.  I also did not miss the ‘so soon’ part about him doing it to me again.  All of this was swirling in my head when I felt his hands in my hair pushing my head down.  It was awkward moving down with my hands cuffed, so it was mostly him shoving on my head.

As he pushed me down to his thing, I was conscious of the leash.  I thought it wasn’t long enough, but then his thing was right in my face seeming familiar from when I had to do it before.  While just barely long enough, the leash had gone a little taut.  The collar felt very tight around my neck, constricting it, but there was more to it.  The tightness around my neck made me feel strange, like he owned me or something, like I was his pet for real.

With my hands cuffed I had no way to grasp it to guide it into my mouth, but he took care of that.  In my head I was wondering why I was cooperating at all, but I was.  I just let him push it against my lips, and I opened my mouth for it, not really willingly, but not fighting it either.  Before it tasted like he smelled, like a man and nicer than I wanted it to be.  It didn’t taste good at all this time.  It took me a few moments to understand why.  I was tasting me on it.  I remembered him wiping it with the blanket, but not very well.  It was nasty, and there was an iron taste I realized was my blood.

There wasn’t anything I could do about moving my head, so I wasn’t surprised when he began humping my face just like in the grass under the hooch stage.  I had to lay there and take it, helpless as he fucked my mouth.  I sucked on it as best I could and noticed the bad taste was going away.  It didn’t taste good or anything, just less bad.

He kept doing it like before, going too deep making me gag and choke on it.  Sometimes I heaved and felt like I was going to throw up, but he would pull back just before I was about to.  I figured out he could sense when I couldn’t take any more, but he was also making me take as much as I could and just a little more.  While laying there on my side, hands cuffed behind me and that leach tugging on the collar around my neck, I began getting the feeling he was training me to take it in my mouth.  That thought made me think of being his pet again.  The collar and leash, and him training me to please him; he was training me to be his pet, his pet for sex to please him.  And, I was doing it.  I was sucking on it as best as I could, doing my best to please him.

It was all these thoughts swirling in my head when it happened again.  He grabbed my head hard, and it jerked in my mouth spurting.  I guess I was thinking too hard and got took by surprise.  I started choking on the slimy mess in my throat and squealed in panic around his thing.  He wouldn’t let go of my head, so I began swallowing to clear my throat.  I swallowed until it was mostly gone.  He pushed it in my mouth again, and I understood.  I sucked on it some more.  I somehow knew he wanted me to keep sucking until I pulled all of the slimy stuff out of his thing.

Abruptly he seemed satisfied and pulled it from my mouth.  He got up and in the trailer and went towards the kitchen.  He came back with a glass of water sipping it.  He sat next to me drinking the water for a minute or so, then he hauled me up to a sitting position.  He put the glass to my lips and tilted it so I could drink.  Cuffed like I was, I couldn’t hold the glass, and I knew now he wasn’t taking those off.  It was hard to drink like that and some dribbled down onto my bare breasts.  I thanked him and he gave me more.  He let me sip until I nodded it was enough.  And then he just pulled me down with and went back to sleep.  I didn’t think I could sleep, but then I did.

I woke to his hands on my body again, those insidious hands that make me squirm.  While I hated how I reacted to them, they now seemed so recognizable and oddly fitting, as if they belonged there on my body.  Knowing this would lead to him pleasuring himself with me again, I sought to interrupt it by blurting out a truthful statement, “I have to pee!”
“Well then, let’s take you to go pee.”

I watched while he untied the leash from the hook and felt so much relief.  But then he immediately gave a rough tug on the leash hurting my throat.  I heard myself whine as I tried to sit up.  I was thinking he would take the cuffs off, but he just yanked on the leash again pulling me to my feet.  I stumbled and began thinking about being his pet again, and then he led me through the trailer.  There was a tiny bathroom, and he pointed.  I didn’t know what else to do, so I sat and started peeing immediately.  I really had to go.  He stood there naked and watched me the whole time.  It was embarrassing being watched, but what could I do.  I tried not to look at his thing in front of my face, especially because it wasn’t exactly soft, and I knew what that meant.

When I was done, I just sat there not wanting to stand, but he pulled me by the leash around my neck to my feet.  He even took a piece of tissue and dabbed my crotch.  I kept thinking I should beg to be released, but he seemed so in control of me.  It was starting to get light, so then I did say, “Please, I need to go home.  My mom will know I was out all night if I don’t go home.”

He ignored me and led me over to an armless chair.  He sat in it, and then while I whined he pulled me into his lap facing him.  I was hoping me peeing would make him forget about doing anything, but I was wrong.  He had me pulled up way on his chest with his hands on my butt, my legs on either side of him dangling not touching the floor.  I felt so helpless.  I always felt helpless with him.

He pulled me way up on his chest.  I didn’t know what he was going to do, and then he had one of my nipples in his mouth.  I couldn’t believe how good that felt and moaned immediately.  His hands squeezed both my butt cheeks and pulled my breast up to his mouth, gently nibbling on my nipple. I could hear myself moaning and knew he was doing it to me again, making me aroused and wanting him.  I could feel myself pushing my chest against his face.  He moved me, and then he was sucking and licking my other nipple.  I knew I was getting wet again, and I knew he knew it too, and then he reached with a finger to slide it in me.

I began crying again knowing he was going to do it.  I could feel him fumble, and then it was pushing at my crotch.  I didn’t want it and tried to struggle away from it.  With my hands cuffed behind my back and my feet not touching the floor, there wasn’t anything I could do.  It was pushing into me again like last night.  I tried to force my body up using my thighs, but then I’d slide back down on it feeling it penetrate me a little deeper as I struggled.  I kept trying to get away from it, but it was like I was only bouncing up and down on it helplessly.  I looked and saw the pleased look on his face and knew me trying to get off it was only making it nicer for him.  And then he said something that made no sense at first, “Smile for the camera.”

I couldn’t understand why he said that as I struggled to try and get it out of me.  Then something made me look to the side, and I saw someone else.  There was someone off to the side with some sort of camera filming us.  I could feel my face turn red, and I cried louder upset at all that was going on.  I got desperate trying to get off his lap and get his thing out of me, but the more I struggled the more I just seemed to be bouncing up and down on it.  He and the guy filming were laughing at me now.  I just wanted to die.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: vile8r on September 21, 2017, 10:44:22 PM
Love it Jed!
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on October 03, 2017, 03:06:21 AM
You’re My Little Whore Now

Seeing the man with the camera, I tried even harder to get off his lap and get it out of me.  I tried to throw myself to the side, but he had a tight hold of the leash and kept me upright on his lap.  When I tried to throw myself to the left, he used the leash to pull me to the right, and did the same when I tried to throw myself to right, pulling me back with the leash.  He was guiding my movements with the leash, and I really felt like his pet being yanked around by the collar on my throat.  My feet were dangling, and I was so helpless straddling his body with his thing inside me.  There was nothing I could do to stop this or get it out of me.

The worst thing was all of it, him inside me, being helpless and even including knowing I was being filmed was all making me so aroused.  That it was against my will was part of what turned me on.  I was crying, but I was moaning too.  I had stopped trying to throw myself off his lap, but I was still trying to keep him from penetrating me too deep.  Each time it would poke in me hurting, using my thighs straddling his I tried to lift my body off it.  I could never quite lift high enough to get it out of me, and then I would settle back on it feeling it skewer my body again.  I knew I was making it good for him and hated that, but when I tried to stop moving up and down, he used the leash yanking on my neck to get me moving again.

At some point, I just stopped fighting it.  He still had the leash wrapped around his hand, but both of his hands were on my butt guiding my movements up and down.  I could feel it now, building inside me.  I was yearning for it too.  He made me do it, with his fingers before, but now I could feel it coming from his thing moving inside me.  There was a soreness too, but the other feeling was overwhelming the soreness.  I knew what it was called, an orgasm or cumming, but until he made me do it, I had no idea what they were talking about.  It was coming, an orgasm, and I couldn’t stop it.  I didn’t want to stop it.  And then his lips near my ear whispered, “Cum for me my little bluebird.  Show me what a little whore you are, show me that you’re my little whore.”

It was calling me that nasty name, a whore, that did it.  It began as a long low moan escaping my lips.  I knew now I was bouncing on his thing completely on my own and on purpose.  It just felt so good, too good, and I couldn’t stop bouncing on it.  And right when I knew my head was going to explode, he whispered again in my ear, “Cum for the camera my little whore.”

I had forgotten about the camera and the man holding it, and I turned towards the camera just as it erupted inside me.  I was looking right at the camera when I began making all sorts of hooting and loud moaning noises.  I knew it would be obvious the noises had nothing to do with pain, and they didn’t.  I was grinding myself on his lap now trying to get it in me.  At some point I stopped making noises and collapsed on his chest sobbing.  I don’t know why, but I kissed his chest and tasted his salty sweat when I did.

I should have known it wasn’t over, but it did take me a little by surprise when with hard hands gripping my butt, he began pumping his hips up at me.  Before he was mostly sitting there, and I was moving on him.  Now he was fucking me again like last night.  I just whimpered and buried my head in his chest while his huge thing lunged in and out of me.  It seemed to take a long time, and now it was going past being sore to hurting.  I knew he wasn’t going to stop until he was done, so I didn’t even try to beg him.  I just sobbed on his chest praying for him to finish.

I thought I could feel him shaking, and that seemed familiar.  It was, as next thing he abruptly pushed deep, and it twitched inside me.  I could feel the spreading wetness and knew he had done it inside me again.

I actually had this hope he would cuddle with me or something, but it was a little like the time under hooch stage.  He just shoved me off his lap until I landed on my feet and almost fell on the floor.  I could feel his stuff leaking out of me and down both my legs.  It felt so nasty.  I stood there naked feeling his awful sticky mess leaking out of me and couldn’t believe how disgusting I was that I had felt good from it all.  That was when he made me feel worse by saying to the man with the camera, “She’s a good little whore don’t you think?”

He tossed me a rag.  I caught it, and then understood I was to use it to clean myself up.  He let me get dressed after that.  It was then he sat me down and began talking.  He told me I needed to come back again in the evening shaking his head when I said I didn’t want to.  He said they would show the movie of me naked on his lap and cumming in the hooch tent, and that all the people from my town would see what a little whore I was.  It was all so terrifying, and I just nodded wanting nothing more than to agree to anything, so I could get out of there.  Finally, I just begged to go home, and he agreed saying, “Sure, go home little bluebird, but make sure you come back here tonight.  And never forget, you’re my little whore now.”

Walking home I was thinking to myself how stupid he must think I am.  I knew he would get in so much trouble if it was found out he was having sex with me.  He wouldn’t dare show that movie they made of me and him having sex.  I kept telling myself that all the way home, but I had this nagging thought about how he seemed to dare anything and everything.  Despite worrying about what he would dare, I told myself I was never going back there.  I told myself I wasn’t his whore either, but I was a little less convinced of that.

I was sneaking back in the house and stopped dead in the hallway in shock.  There was a man coming out of momma’s room.  He was tucking his shirt in and didn’t see me at first.  I was standing there my mouth open thinking I should scream, but then he did see me and called out momma’s name.

Momma came out of her room in a bathrobe.  I could tell she had nothing on underneath it.  It was quickly obvious to me the guy was no intruder.  I knew then momma was cheating on daddy.  OK, maybe daddy didn’t live here anymore and they got a divorce, but I always figured he would come back any day.  And now momma was having sex with this man and wanted to talk about it.  I just said I wanted to go to bed.  Momma didn’t even notice I hadn’t even been to my bed all night.

The words of the man kept ringing in my head, that I was his whore now and had to do what he wanted.  I didn’t want to believe it and told myself over and over it wasn’t true.  I didn’t like the things he did to me even if my body did.  I slept part of the day and was quiet not talking to momma much over dinner.  I couldn’t even look her in the eyes.  I kept seeing in my head momma naked with that man just like I was with him doing all those nasty things.  I couldn’t get those images to go away, me with him and momma with that man were all merging into the same thing in my head.

I did at some point seem to find some strength.  I told myself I was not going back to the carnival and I was not going back to him.  And, I told myself I wasn’t his whore.  I knew there was an uncertain feeling in my gut, but I knew I was strong enough to ignore that and do the right thing.  I was too young to be having sex, and he was way too old to be having sex with a young girl like me.

Friday evening came and I lay in my bed unable to sleep.  I was unsure if I could have slept anyways, but it was impossible with the noises.  It was as if now they knew I knew, momma and the man weren’t even trying to hide what they were doing.  Momma was moaning so loud, and I couldn’t help thinking it sounded like me with him.  Momma’s bed was creaking, and I could hear the man grunting as he fucked my momma.  It was the noises momma made that were really upsetting me.  I never heard momma make those noises when daddy lived here.  He was her husband.

In my head, I kept thinking momma was making those noises with this strange man, because she was a whore.  I also kept thinking about how I made those same noises with him, and that I was a whore too.  I thought to myself about how I know now why I can’t control myself around him.  I thought about how I squirm when his hands touch me.  I had heard momma moan and the bed creaking from her squirming when this man touched her.  And then momma screamed, and I knew what that was and what it felt like.  The man grunted and groaned, and then he stopped too.  I couldn’t get the image of him on top of my momma and squirting inside her out of my head.

It was momma’s own fault she was a whore, and I’m one too because of her.  I inherited her tits and her inability to say no to men.  It couldn’t have been 30 minutes before I heard them start up again, my momma the whore and the strange man.  I knew then being a whore ran in the family.  I knew I was a whore too, and I knew I was his whore, the man at the carnival.  Hearing momma making her whore noises was driving me crazy, so I got up and got dressed.  I knew the man at the carnival wanted his whore back, and as I sneaked out of the house, I knew he was going to get me again, his whore.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: Jed on October 06, 2017, 09:04:13 PM
A Shared Whore

The gate that leads from the carnival to the trailers where the carnies live is guarded to prevent the town folk from going back there and causing trouble.  I expected to be stopped, and then have to explain why I was supposed to go through.  I didn’t have an explanation.  I mean what was I going to say?  I’m the whore of some carny guy who I don’t even know his name, I just know where his trailer is?  All those thoughts became pointless, as the man guarding the gate just smiled and waved me through.  I never saw him before, so I wondered how he knew to let me through?

I got to the trailer and knocked, but there was no answer.  I could feel a huge sense of relief flow though my body.  I told myself this meant I didn’t have to be his whore.  I could turn around and go home.  Then I thought of mom and that man, and I didn’t know what to do.  I guess all these thoughts had me distracted, because I jumped feeling his hand on my neck and he said, “Welcome back my little bluebird.”

My shoulders slumped in defeat, and when he opened the door to the trailer, I walked in like I belonged there.  He went to the bed and sat down.  Looking at me he just made a gesture.  I knew what he wanted and began undressing.  It was a weird feeling willingly baring my body to him.  It was like he owned me and maybe he did now.  Once I was naked he had me come close and gestured again.  I knelt in front of him and leaned my neck forward so he could put the collar on.  He drew the leash taut, and ordered, “Take my pants down.”

I had to take his pants down?  I didn’t know how I was going to do that with him sitting, but looking at his hard eyes I reached for his belt with trembling hands.  With my hands shaking so bad, I had a hard time undoing his belt.  I got a little frustrated at myself, but he didn’t hurry me.  Unfastening his pants was even harder, but I finally got them undone.  My hand was really shaking when I tugged his zipper down.  I didn’t know how I was going to get them down, but then he lifted his hips.  I worked them off his hips until they dropped to his ankles.  I could see the outline of it in his boxers, and then he told me, “Reach in and get it out.”

I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to.  I reached up with one hand and pulled the elastic of his boxers out and a little down.  Swallowing hard, I reach in with my right hand and felt it.  It seemed to twitch in my hand when I touched it, like it was alive on its own and not just part of him.  It was a little floppy but seemed to be getting harder at my touch.  I got my fingers around it, and pulled it up and out until I could see it.  I’d seen it before, but not like this in the light.  My fingers curled around it didn’t even touch.  I couldn’t believe this thing fit inside me, down there and in my mouth.  I knew he wanted me to use my mouth on it, so I opened wide, and just then he said, “No.”

“No?” I asked puzzled.
“Get a feel for it in your hands first, stroke it and learn how to handle a cock.  You dug it out of my pants almost like you knew what you were doing.  Get your hands used to touching and stroking a man’s cock.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I started to sort of explore it.  I stroked it like he said feeling the loose skin move on it until it got very hard and there was less loose skin.  I got both hands around it, pulling on it noticing he looked pleased.  I knew from boys talking what a handjob was, and I guess I was doing that. I touched it all over and even gently held his balls.  I watched his face, and he seemed to like me touching his thing more than his balls.  I have to admit, I was fascinated by it and being able to see it so close and touch it all over.

The tip looked like a toy soldier’s helmet, and right when I had my face very close to it and stroking a little droplet of clear liquid came out of his pee hole.  Something told me this wasn’t pee, but it wasn’t him cumming either.  I don’t know what came over me, but I stuck my tongue out and licked the drop off the tip.  I felt him shudder when I did that, and for some reason I was proud.

Not sure why, but right at that moment tasting that droplet from his thing, his cock, I just blurted out, “I don’t even know your name, and you don’t know mine.”

“You can call me Sir.  You might hear my name spoken by someone, but you will always call me Sir.  Do you understand?”
“Um yes. . . yes Sir.”

“As for you, you are my little bluebird and my whore.  Those are your names.”
I was about to tell him my name, but I got a bad feeling he would not be happy if I said it.

“My little bluebird, do you know why I also call you a whore, and my whore.”
I shook my head.

“It’s because you feel that word deeper than any other word I could call you.  I could call you slut, tramp, trollop and any number of nasty names for girls that so easily give themselves to men, but my little whore, that word ‘whore’ is the one you feel deep down inside you.  It’s the name that when you are called a whore, it makes you feel like a whore and it arouses you.  Tell me the truth, when I call you a whore, does it turn you on?”

What could I say?  I mean I knew it was true.  Because I knew it was true I whispered back to him, “Yes Sir.”
“Time to suck my cock little whore.”
“Yes Sir,” I said without hesitation and opened my mouth taking it in.

As I began sucking on it gripping it with my lips and swirling my tongue around it, I wondered why I was doing it so eagerly.  And why did I have that uncontrollable urge to taste that drop on the tip.  Those thoughts abruptly went away, because he began speaking again.  It was like a lecture in school, except he was telling me how to please him with my mouth.  Before, it was mostly him grabbing my head and forcing it, basically fucking my mouth.  This time it was all me doing the action, and trying to follow his instructions.

He talked about the gag reflex, and pushed my head down on it to show me.  I could feel my stomach heave, and I began choking on it until he let go of my head.  I already knew about gagging on it, but then he said girls could be trained to ignore it and not gag.  Trained?  I wasn’t sure I like the sound of being trained like a dog.  I then became really conscious of the collar around my neck and the leash in his hand, and began thinking I was being trained.  And while he wasn’t gripping my hair and forcing me, he was stroking my hair like he was petting a dog, like I was his pet.

During his instructions he said something I found hard to believe.  He said I could learn to take his entire thing in my mouth and even down my throat.  I didn’t believe him, but I wasn’t going to tell him that, not that I could anyway with my mouth so full.  All of this was going on for a while, and then I heard the door to the trailer open.

I tried to pull back to stop what I was doing, but that’s when his hands tightened in my hair and didn’t let me.  I heard myself sob in shame that someone had come in and was seeing me do this.  And then he, Sir, said, “Don’t you dare stop sucking my little bluebird whore.”

What else could I do?  I began moving my head again, and Sir relaxed his grip on my hair.  I could see that someone was standing next to us, and I was so humiliated at someone watching.  And then he sat down on the edge of the bed right next to us.  Glancing over, I could see it was the man from this morning with the camera.  I just wanted this over with, so I tried even harder to suck on Sir and ignore him.  I worked Sir hungrily into my mouth wanting to make him cum.  Mercifully, neither one of them spoke, so I closed my eyes and concentrated on what I was doing.  His hands were in my hair, and I knew he was close.  I felt him shake and knew this was it, and when it spurted, I was already swallowing.  I kept my eyes closed in shame and sucked on it a little more until it went a little soft, then I let it slip from my mouth.

I got yanked sideways by my hair and squealed in surprise my knees sliding on the floor.  And then in front of me was the other man’s thing sticking out and aimed at my face.  I didn’t even hear him open his pants.  I was shaking my head that I didn’t want to do it with him, but then Sir spoke, “He’s my partner.  I share everything with him.  Besides, he still has that movie and tells me he’ll get rid of it if you’re nice to him.”

I didn’t want to do it, but the movie did bother me a lot.  I was crying now, but we all knew I was going to do it.  With tears streaming down my face, I opened my mouth and took his thing inside and began sucking.  I could have told myself that Sir was sort of my boyfriend when it was just him, but now me doing it with another man really did make me a whore.  I let out a choking sob around his thing, but I didn’t stop sucking on it.
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: mithrandirshadow on October 23, 2017, 10:25:59 PM
Great story
Title: Re: The Cusp of Womanhood
Post by: DirtySerenity on October 27, 2017, 10:25:30 AM
Lovin the story Jed