Author Topic: Sin Detension (Twin)  (Read 5681 times)

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Sin Detension (Twin)
« on: September 19, 2017, 02:55:44 PM »

Well, I don't have one in this sexion, so I'm gonna rewrite from the opening of a story I wrote for Leslita@ASSTR.Net.  Basically switching it out from a student/Teacher mental rape to the predictable gangrape of a teacher by multiple students.  However, there's no Twins, plural in this one.  The main antagonist is A twin, without her sister for motivation.  I can't say anything else without spoilers, but any twincest is most likely going to be in flashback/dialog without any graphic description.  This is what happens to one of them after they're separated...



[She put down her hand, and eagerly came up to the board. The boys in the class eyed her with the unabashed lust of youthful hormones. 8th grade Social Studies, odd that though one of my best students, she’s generally shy, and not typically one volunteer for attention. Always quiet, and reserved, she get’s teased as a Teacher’s Pet. In a less kind word, I had heard in the halls, or doorway as they filtered in and out of class, she was a bit of a “Nerd.” However, she was privately one of my more gifted, and creative writers.

Honor roll, and a good bid for Valedictorian.  If she could maintain her streak into high school, and beyond. In all honesty, she wrote at College level, in grammar, spelling, and had a delightful imagination for fiction. In prose and spoken diction. Unfortunately, she also developed hormones, which affected her body in ways her baggy clothes, stop-staring-at-me-hair, and modest glasses failed to completely hide. As the boys delighted in showing on their ravenous expressions.

The chalk clicked quietly behind me, but briefly. I looked back as she stepped aside to reveal a single word:


She smiled up at me, hands clasped behind her back and I barely let the out “What?” before I heard the loud roar of multiple chairs scraping across the floor. The boys were up, “What do you thinMH!?” coming forward, as I was deprived the rest of that query by a muffle of some sort.

"Shut up, bitch." Pulling back my head, then they were all around me. Grasping my arms, holding them as my hair twisted and pulled in a knot.  "I think you know,” her normally quiet voice was cold, “What this is now. Right boys?”

“Yeah,” their hands, “Oh yeah.” Not just at my arms, “I think she gets it.” I shuddered in disgust at their gripping my chest, legs, and buttocks. “Yeah, she’s gonna get it!” Their rough sadistic laughter.

I looked pleadingly at the rest of the desks, even as they hoisted me up on mine, but the other girls remained seated.  Just watching, or talking to each other. Smiling, whispering, and giggling to my horror, but I could implore no help from them.

They were in on it, they were all at least complicit in the assault.  Even as I heard the distinctive adhesive rip of tape, and felt it clinging through my stockings. “NWR!” I struggled, to no avail, there were too many of them.  Too numerous hands, holding my limbs, and pressing my arms up. Together, I shut my eyes to the roll, passing over me, and shuddered. “Mhmhm,” whimpered even as another terrifying rip drowned them out.

It stuck to my wrist, held crossed over the other until they were bound tightly together.

“Hh?” My eyes flew open, at the sensation of my fingers brushing, then pressed into cloth. Her skirt, between her thighs, then it folding and wrinkling over them, pulled up, with the material to expose them. I tried to turn away, but they held my face. Closed my eyes, to the image of her crotch, but with the next desperate shallow gasp through my nose was assaulted by the unmistakable odor of her arousal. Even as I vainly tried to push the mental likeness of her underwear so close, then felt my hair pressed in, around my face. My brow, brushing her young thighs.

Why, only 13, little more than a girl in bloom, and so quiet, so shy. So unthinkable that she would even harbor such rapacious desires, much less the wherewithal to act on them. The boys, of course you trust that they won’t organize, and conspire, yet I could see it, occasionally throughout the semester. However, the single word left no doubt. They had not plotted this together. Even as their hands spread my jacket, and unbuttoned my blouse, I was seized by the certainty that this was not their plan. It was her’s, they cooperated with, and a dreadful certainty gripped my heart that it had yet barely begun.

Even as the fragrant musky cotton blotted out the light through my lids, and crushed the bridge of my nose.  Even her hands, pushed enough of their rough brutish fumbling gropes away to gently find purchase on my breasts. She gave no clue, that she even saw anything erotic as something more than harassment. In her writing, it had become brooding, and darker, but only with the ideation of the persecuted. The overwhelmed.

I had even cried for her in sympathy.  Remembering that troublesome time from my youth, and the oft frightening attentions of my male peers. I just never had reason to suspect it from any of the girls, least of all her. Not even any clue of sapphic attraction, to me nor any of her classmates. As much as I feared the rough manipulations of them, I could understand, even expect it. From her, it came as a shock of the unknown. The yawning black abyss of the unknowable, the infinite ignorance outside our scintilla of knowledge.

Expect the unexpected? I had laughed at that impossibility, but this. This nightmare. They would have their way with me, to be sure, even without the unsubtle indications of their fingers fumbling under my tight skirt. At my undergarments, pulling out my hose so hard they tore along my thighs, but all I could wonder at is what she could possibly have in store for her portion. What would she take from me?

I dreaded the gang rape, but that, unknowable. I feared that even more.]

Yours, truly:

Helen (Fg NS Talk.)

“Yes Mrs. Davenport?”

”May I speak with you, out in the hall?”

”Uh!” I dropped my books on the desk, but she appeared upset. “Yes, Mrs. Davenport?”

“What is the meaning of this?” She waved the sheets in front of me.

So, I took them, and. “MH?” Covered the scream before it escaped my mouth. I looked up from the incriminating page, and let it fall. Reflexively held it back, behind me. I shook my head, speechless.

“Was that ment for me?” I silently shook my head, and blink the blur from my eyes, to roll down my cheeks. “Explain yourself!”

“It was an accident!” I pleaded, “I didn’t know, and you weren’t ment to read it!”

“You aren’t supposed to, write such disgusting smut, let alone in my class, and how could you!” She cried hysterically.

“I’m sorry!”

“How could you, want something so sick, for me!?”

“I don’t, it’s not you, honest. See, I didn’t call you Mrs. Davenport, or any name in here, you’re just an anony;” Uh! “Mh!”

She frowned, fiercely.

“HhHhH!” i shivered, betrayed by my own words. “i’m. So, sorry.” i just can’t help it. i thought, there was no way, i could ever admit it, even in words, but yeah. Okay, i nodded, shamefully, but couldn’t raise my eyes to look at her.

She’s just, too, beautiful. i don’t know why, but i can’t help it. i knew the boys desired her, too. i just couldn’t think of any other way to touch her, hold her, taste her. Without their help.

“Well, return to your desk,” she snatched the sheets away, “And don’t mention Any of this, to Anyone, Ever!” She shook her finger.

“Yes, Mrs. Davenport.” my head fell.

“I’ll deal with you after class, but I have other students to attend to.”

i hung my head, in the walk of shame between giggles, whispers, and “Ooh!”s

“Now settle down, class.”

“Not miss perfect now, are you?”

i just shook my head, and cried.

“No,” put it down.

i never was.


Lucinda (F Clas Fant)

I need a cigarette. My hands shook with residual rage, but I have responsibilities, to my students. My other students, I’ll have to find placement for her later, but no reason to deprive them of their education. Which is my duty, because of that.

Just drive it from my thoughts,
  • and distract myself with the rest of the attendance. Take a ragged breath, but I wish I could just run out to my car for another cigarette. A filthy habit, I shouldn’t indulge as a bad example for them. However, I was desperate after awaking so many times to the nightmares. I hadn’t even considered buying a pack for years. Until last night, I had to find a gas station that was open.

It didn’t help me sleep, but at least it helped steady my hand. Ironically, even were I to take up my red pen, I wouldn’t have needed it. As usual, it was incredibly well written, if anything overwritten with the choice of words such as scintilla. If not for the subject matter, her obvious passion could even be construed to inspire the horrific realism, but I have to focus. They won’t be occupied with the reading indefinitely, so try to remind myself of the lesson plan.

Just the simple act of reading, panic inducing, dreading the next word, and recognizing each it had in common with. That. How can I not think of that, avoid it consuming my thoughts, as it had for the last, 20 hours? Why did I read the whole thing? Why couldn’t I stop? How did it grip me so?

“HhHhH!” I looked up. She was writing, ignoring me, even as the rest of the class looked up, and I even relaxed at some expressions of concern. Thankfully, she couldn’t. Face me, she cried, and now my heart could empathize with that. It wasn’t her fault, I can scarcely imagine being assailed by such horrors. From her own imaginings, but now I could even sympathize with that. Being assaulted myself by them, inadvertently as it may be, and surely it was fiction. Terrifying as it may be, she couldn’t truly conspire with the entire class to.

“Continue reading,” I can’t do this! “I’ll send a substitute.”

“Are you all right, Mrs. Davenport?”

“No.” I grasped the knob to steady myself. “I don’t feel well. So, I will send for someone to finish the class.”

I can’t face them, least of all her, but even the others, after the nitemares, forced to imagine their hands, and leering faces. “Huh!” I need a cigarette, but first I have to make good on my promise for their futures. So, the lounge, “Ah, Mr. Rhodes. I hate to ask, but I feel ill. Would you mind looking in on my students? The lesson plan is on my desk, but I have to take the day.” At least. “I don’t wish to expose. Hhh!”

“Go on,” he dropped his sandwich, “Good lord, you’re white as a sheet! Go on, I’ll take care of them.”

“Good,” I rushed to the office. I have to, before I can get out to my car, and hopefully relax, but the flashbacks come back, and I find myself on the floor. Sobbing in the hall, but i can’t stop. “No, WHY!?”

“Oh my gosh, Mrs. Davenport!?”

“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” I just ran, as soon as I could get my heels under me, but I can’t. I can’t even face the secretary right now, I need a cigarette, “I need some fresh air.” NOW! Then I can consider signing out, but right now, I just can’t.

“WhhhHhH!” Take another drag, and snap my fingers. “Heather.” That had to be it. I was assured that that, delinquent deviant was safely away at Training School. The bad one, which would imply I got the “Good one.”

Assuming of course that they didn’t conspire to take advantage of looking identical. Another possibility to consider would be Helen giving into a similar rebellious streak later, after her sister had been expelled. Did they conspire, to write it together, or merely the exchange knowing I couldn’t tell them apart? Regardless, we don’t have either of their fingerprints on file, but they aren’t completely identical. She had a record, so stub it out for another drag, and sign out. So I can go to the Police station for her 10 sheet. She’s not supposed to be on the property, and I may be able to catch her in violation of the restraining order.

If it is her, there’s no better way to find out. I will get to the bottom of this, however. With that, purpose, I can cope. The nicotine helped, but now I can face her with something to face her with. I’m not beaten yet, I won’t let her break me with her manipulations, or at least I can cry later. For now, I have some way to fight back.



{Heather Palmer, please report to the office before the next class.}

‘huH!?” The hairs stood up on my neck right before the bell even rung. Perfect timing! I flirted with the idea of just going to class, but then I saw the cop in the hall, and resigned to my fate. I fucked up, I should have checked my homework, but she got me. Ha Ha, very funny, she stapled another sheet to my assignment, and I just turned it in with my work.

“Come with me, miss.”

“You don’t have to carry me,” I put my hands up, at least he didn’t get out the cuffs, “I’m coming, all right? Stand down.” He followed me to the office, and man did Mrs. D look pissed! “It’s not me, it was Heather.” I swore.

She slapped a sheet of fingerprints down on the table, “Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. This officer will administer the test, so don’t resist.”

“All right, fine. She’s at school, or she should be, unless she broke out again. It’s me, Helen. I’m sorry she did that to you, I mean it, but I didn’t know.”

“What did she do, exactly.”

I turned to the principal, “I assume she added a sheet to my homework, she pulled a similar stunt at her Private school, so it’s right up her alley.”

“Do you have this sheet?”

“No, I destroyed it.” She lied! She totally lied, I saw it.

“Well, what did this sheet contain?”

“Give me your other hand.”

“Huh!” He started over with the thumb, and rolled it on the dye pad, then the sheet. “I don’t know, she didn’t even give me a chance to read it before she made me give it back.”

“Smut,” she nodded, “Horrible, lesbian smut, and as soon as we confirm the identities here, I want her brought up on charges.” She pointed.

“I told you, I’m Helen. I’m as much a victim here as you are, you know what she’s like?” She shook her head, “Well I do. I lived with her most of my life, and this is what she does. She gets in your head, and gives you doubts until you think You are the one going insane.” Lucky she didn’t have her as a full-time student, much less being her twin sister. “Can you do the comparison here?”

He got out a magnifying glass on a big plastic holder, and bent over the sheets.

“While I’m not an expert, these patterns aren’t even similar,” he moved across just to be sure, “So, it’s just a formality to have it certified my our experts. If you want, have a look for yourself, but this appears to be Helen Palmer, and not her sister.” Thank god there isn’t 3 of us.

“Unfortunately,” the uniformed policeman went on, “There’s no actual crime here, even if there was evidence. She sent you a dirty story, so unless you can find her fingerprints on the property, I can’t even charge her in violation of the restraining order. She’s not supposed to come within 500 feet of the school, but it doesn’t say anything in here about writing. Unless it could be construed as some sort of Threat?"

She lied, "No." Again!

"Which is fortunate for you, Mrs. Davenport, because then you would have destroyed evidence of a crime, and I’d be forced to charge with that, by your admission in front of witnesses.”

“I know, it’s just. So abhorrent, I felt compelled to destroy that terrible thing.” A good liar, I’ll give her that, but I was curious enough about why not to let that slide.

“Take some time off, you need anything else, officer?”

“I could use a desk to write up the report, but I can do that back at HQ if you want to get rid of me.”

“Am I dismissed?”

“No, you’re suspended. While we can’t take any legal action in this incident, I do have the authority to give you some time to reflect on traumatizing our faculty.”

“I’m sorry!”

“I know,” she patted my shoulder, “I’ll give you a ride home?”

“Of course," she led me out, “You’ll have to give this to your parents,” she gave me the pink sheet from the suspension notice, “But as you said, you’re a victim in this as well, and I think we should talk, on the way.”

“Snh?” she’s been smoking, but I’d been crying, so I wiped my eye to cover it.

“Now,” when she got me outside, “You haven’t really, been having any, thoughts like that about me, have you?”

“Not, really.” I shook my head, “It was my mistake telling her you’re my favorite teacher, but how bad was it? Did you keep it?”

“Yes.” She admitted, and unlocked her car as soon as it was in sight.


“So you can read it, I suppose, and I’m not done processing yet. Huh! I came, this close to burning it up, but immediately realized I would regret it.”

“Well, I better read it,” If I’m going to get back at her for this, “But just so I know what to expect, are we talking about, sapphic, ahm. Content?”

“You mean what it’s about?” she shook her head, stopped, and steeled herself. “Huh! It’s, incomplete. However, it heavily implies gang-rape. Not just her, but all of the male students as accomplices.”

“Well, thanks for the trigger warnings.”

“You think she wrote the rest?”

“Why, would you think you could read it?”

“I believe I might have to, for closure. The way she left it. Huh! You’re right about, how she gets in your head.”

“I know, as well as anyone.”

“I think I can, accept, what happened. No, correction: What she wrote about happening, I’m a little sleep deprived, but what keeps bothering me is not knowing, what didn’t happen.”

“Wow,” really did a number on her, “Huh?”

“I can’t explain it, you’ll have to read it to understand.”

“Well,” I nodded, but she produced the crumpled, then smoothed out sheet, “There is more.”

“To this story?”

“No, I don’t know.” My eyes flashed over the crumpled lines in my own perfectly forged script, “I mean there’s more stories. Huh!” I covered my mouth, “Not as bad as this!” The hose tearing down her thighs, then the ending. Or the cliff hanger, the unending, menacing implication, forcing her to wonder...

"God, I’m so sorry!" I shouldn’t have, never admitted my crush, but I had no idea who else to turn to. Sure, she’s a sadistic monster, but she’s my sister. This is probably her trying to help me in her sick twisted mind, but the feelings were true, just sitting next to her in the car. If not for the horror in my hands, as I turned it over to the back. Her presence, finally alone with her, I probably would do something like babble out my feelings for her.

Like some smitten schoolgirl. “Hihihn!”


“Uhm,” search for the right word. “Sorry, ‘mental likeness’.”

“Yes, she rather overwrote it.”

“Yeah, just didn’t want to repeat ‘Image’, nor ‘Crotch’.” I nodded. Her favorite book she didn’t write herself is a Thesaurus.


“Oh!” I just hugged her.

“Hhuhuh!” She shuddered.

“I’m so sorry,” but, i love You.

That’s why she hurt her. She gets jealous, she won’t let me love anyone else.

“Honestly, it wasn’t even like your writing.”

“Yeah?” You’d be surprised.

“Yours is so much more caring.”

“Yeah,” I know, “I’m not a sociopath.”

“Well, I don’t mean to punish you for her.”

“No,” it’s all right, 'i want You. Too.'


“Punish me?”

The truth is, my writing isn’t more caring, it’s just submissive.


“Huh! I was her first victim. She dominated me, with fantasies like this. Then, she used them to tie me down, and forced me to submit to them.”

“She raped you?”

“No, she. She made me, like it. I. i didn’t just let Her. At some point, I begged Her for it. To put a collar on me, and make me Her slave. Huh! i have to warn you. i wrote, the rest of it.”

“The story?”

“Not that one, by my fantasies, and they’re at least as dark.”

“You wouldn’t, hurt anyone?”

“No, nobody else. I can’t.”

“You wouldn’t hurt, me?”

“Oh no! God no. I’m not a sadist, i can’t hurt anyone! i don’t want to hurt You! i want You, to hurt me.”

That’s why i fell in love with Her. Yeah, she’s older, and gorgeous, but she Dominates that class. I can’t be the only one who sees it, sure the boys just look at her body, and fantasize, whatever twelve and thirteen year old boys do. I don’t know, but.

"Then by process of elimination, you fear that you could hurt yourself?"

"No," she still doesn't understand, "i have to. To focus, it's like a drug, and I'm addicted now. Now that i don't have anyOne to give me my fix."

“I can’t.”

“I know.”

“I’m happily married.”

“I know!” Now I’m really crying.

“I have three wonderful kids.”


“And I’m not. Homosexual.”

“HhHhHhH!” And it’s, so wonderful. i feel myself, slipping away. “Me neither.” So i can relax, with the clarity of every distraction taken away. That’s not what this is about, but finally, i felt it. Exactly what i needed. i found the way, deep inside, to that dark place, where i feel safest.

She broke my heart, which is exactly what i needed.  "I better drop you off."

She’s perfect.


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Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #1 on: September 19, 2017, 03:12:16 PM »
Mrs. Davenport

Returning to class monday, I must admit some nervousness at the approach of fourth period. Of course, by the time her suspension expired, I should be used to the thought of her presence, here again.  Right in front of me after what happened.  Nothing happened, it was just a story, and yet i feel almost as if it had.  However as they filed in, I found my eyes going to her chair, even as they found theirs. I did enjoy her writings, before being exposed to her more. “Ahem.”

They took their seats, and I closed the door. “Now class, open your books to Chapter 8, page one-fifty six, and begin the reading.”

I crossed out her name, and flipped back the page to a new spreadsheet. Yes, a fresh start, looking over the heads of the students, bent in concentration. I re-wrote their names, mostly from familiarity. We had been together through enough of the semester that I merely need recall their work, their names at the tops of their submissions. “Huh.” [Alyssa Charmel: x]

Just get through the semester, no need to Punish. Shake my head.

The other students, [Robert Jenkins: x] “Huh!” I just smoked, almost half a cigarette in the lounge between periods.

Another empty seat. Look up to recall, the brunette, who should be there, her dyslexia. “Oh,” [Francine Makris: ] Of course.

I would like to think that, what happened didn’t affect me, but I don’t have that luxury.

[Edward Lewis: x] The bully, and a nitwit to judge from his poor effort to apply himself to his language skills.

[Lauren Heath] Huh. My hand shook, and I had to lift the pen from the paper, to avoid an errant mark.   Merely a coincidence, of course, a common name, and they had decided that alias years ago. A pun, or 2. Matching, “Sharing and Caring.” I got it immediately, but had to remember her last submi; “Uh!”

“Still feeling a little ill Miss Dav’;”

“Concentrate on the reading. And it’s Mrs.” I’m happily married, a good Christian. “Miss.” Oh yes, “Lassiter.”  [...Lassiter, Edgar:  x]

She just obediently bent back to her study, but I’m not; Surely they don’t see me as such a tyrannical; I’m just under a lot of stress, and at least I can say I slept through the night, though the nightmares not waking me can hardly be seen as a blessing.

Which begs the question of how they see me, the boys predictably enough, but I don’t want to think about that. So, put it out of your mind with Empathy. Something I cannot teach, but an invaluable tool, for the students. Putting myself in their place, I am not too old to remember, that turbulent time in my own development, even my favorite teachers. Mr. Rogan, I too developed feelings toward him, he was handsome with his unruly shock of black curls, and semitic good looks. “Hn,”

Look around at their heads, bowed in study.


Surprising what you overlook, until you have your eyes open, but I can’t knot that box shut again.

Their Submissions, heads obediently bowed, as if in supplication, all of their seats facing me, behind the larger desk, the thronelike chair, standing to lecture, and deliver discipline if they got out of line. Of course, I did not get into teaching for that, a sincere love of the language, and an academic outlet for that passion. I was the nerd, teaching Lit was just a natural transition from my failed dreams at writing it, a career where my interest could be put to good use, instead of putting off people by nerding out to some allusion, to some story nobody else had read.

“Huh!” So, when did I become that teacher? The Authoritarian, as long as I’m exploring this introspection, I might as well use all my education to find the right word. Or for a less kind one, I had heard muttered disobediently under their breath.

The Bitch.

We had been warned, and I even recall thinking that becoming too familiar could encourage that kind of inappropriate romantic ideation. However, avoiding it, to the point of subconsciously becoming this did not prevent just that from happening. It just turned the resulting fantasy violent, and abusive. I shouldn’t have closed my eyes, as if the flourescent glare could wash it from my mind’s eye.

I had already thought, unbidden. Gang Rape. “Huh.” Lesbian fantasies, bondage and humiliation in class. Shake it out of my head. They’re starting to get through the assignment, so to the lesson plan. I’ll think about it later, it’s unavoidable, but not here, now. It’s inappropriate.


Teaser (f/m NS)

“Hey,” roll my eyes at Ed, “What’re you all dressed up for?”

“A date.”

“Oh yeah? Who you goin’ out with?”


“Who’s that?”

“Not a Whom, a What.” Turning skillfully on my heels, I bent to sit down, and turn my now exposed knees under the desk. Crossing my legs, and he took his seat beside me. “More of a fashion show, really.”

“Oh yeah?” Still grinning, idiotically, “Where at?” He skipped When.

“It’s private.” I looked away, raised my nose, “Invitation only.”

“Stuck up slut.”

“Yeah,” that’s the fantasy. If I were a slut, maybe he’d have a shot at me. “Right.” Beneath me, you know you’d be a lot cuter if you weren’t such a dick. “Right.” I know my place, waving him off.

That ain’t it.

There She is. “Huh!” turn to give her my good side, maybe rub my thighs together to put on some blush. The fine microweave of nylon, bands shearing scalloped edges against each other, and the clips holding the straps up to the garter belt. Over satin panties, the ruffled hems bunched around the tops of my thighs, and between them. Purse my blood thickened lips, and lick them to make them shiny. Yeah, that should do it.

“UhimH!” The rest of them sat up straight, in attention, I just uncrossed my legs, and watched Her. Glance up from Attendance until she caught my eyes.

Blink, look down, and smiling guiltily as I slowly spread my knees, and watch her stop, before forcing her gaze back to the Roll.

She couldn't even Say My Name, but her face lit up like windows in a church fire. Cross my legs, and turn to look boredly out the window.

She didn't have to say it out loud, and more than I had to say Yes,

  • I'm Here.

That should do it.



This is what I call "Plantacy."  The buildup after an assault (In this case mental/emotional) and the next assault/victim.  What serials do, between victims, especially if they have a long Period.  




“Yes, miss Oldman?” Sorry.

“What are you doing, in my class?”

It's Missus. “Nothing, Mrs. Oldman?”

“Lying won’t get you out of trouble, I can see under your desk from here.”

The 6th grader pulls her skirt over her thighs, then folds her hands on the desk in front of her.

“Sorry, miss;”

“You didn’t even pull your underpants up.” She shifts in her seat.

“I’m sorry, missus Oldman.” Pulling her skirt out again, her hands return to the top of the desk.

“Perhaps you need the lesson driven home, so now that your clothes are back in place, why don’t you join me in front of the class?”

I giggle along with the other students, but don’t look at them, nor tear my eyes away from the caught naughty girl, shyly pushing back her seat, and slowly walking forward, her head hanging in shame.

“Is there something in the lesson you find particularly alluring?”

Behind her, the ram’s head shape of a uterus, and fallopian tubes is drawn in painstaking chalk on the blackboard.

“Yes, miss Oldman.”

“Well, perhaps your classmates would appreciate the show I got,” The teacher stands behind her desk, “Turn around, and lift your skirt, Heather. Unless, that peep show was for me.”

“No, mh!”

Whack! The humiliated student jumps.

“Is that disobedience, or an admission that it was not for my benefit?”

“But, unh!”

Another whack of her palm, and her ginger pigtails shake with her reaction. “Your Skirt! Hold it up to show the entire class what you were hiding.”

Tears rolling down from her tightly shut eyes, but she feels down, and gently gathers the pleats up her shaking thighs.

“HhH!” She shivers, and trembles.

“What’s wrong, are you ashamed of your body, Heather?”

“Please, i can’t.”

“You should have thought about that, before you chose to expose yourself to me. So, if you’re going to be such an exhibitionist, then you just volunteered as an example to your fellow students.” Then, without any further explanation, the severe teacher, a stunning lady in her 40s unceremoniously pulls the fabric clutched in the naughty girls hands, and exposing her to the rounded pink triangle of cotton held tight across her narrow hips. “Would anyone like a closer look?”

Predictably, all of the boys raised their hands, drooling with lust, so I raise my hand as well.

“June,” I jump at the opportunity, so quickly that my chair cracks against the desk behind me, before bouncing back to it’s feet. “Come forward, and assist me with this demonstration.”

“Yes, missus Oldman.”

Heather, everyone knows as sexually precocious and exhibitionistic for her scant eleven years. However, I scaresly looked at her, and with not a little envy, for I would happily take her place to be scolded, and exposed by the older woman, still holding the skirt beside her. “Sit on your hands, Heather. You won’t need them with my assistant.” I beam with pride, “June, please do me the service of helping her underpants down, so that your classmates may see a real example of a naughty girl in bloom.”

“Of course.” She squirms, but dare not stop me, even as the warm fine cotton slip down her hips and thighs in my fingers.

“Good June.”

“Thank you, miss Oldman.”

“You may return to your seat.”

“If I may, still be some assistance. I would gladly continue to help you with your demonstration.”

“Good,” my heart swells, just at her smile, and praise at my willing helpfulness. “In that case, help this reprobate onto the desk, and spread your legs, Heather. It’s far too late for modesty after your indiscretion.”

I love to stayed after class, but not for bad behavior. Now I can help her, to earn more approval, show her my appreciation for her stern beauty, and modestly dressed figure, as I had admired it all semester. But without hiding it, all eyes on the humiliated example, exposed before her peers, I can do this in front of everyone, rather than wait for the bell to ring.


“Yes, miss Oldman?” In unison.

“Naughty Heather saw fit to masturbate in class, so in all fairness, should you feel the need, you may open your pants, at your desks, and take care of any reaction this shameless exposure may have caused.”

“Thank you, m’,”

“In silence.” They nod obediently, but not a hand could be seen, even at the girl’s desks. Only their knees, exposed and spread, their long skirts withdrawn no doubt for similar actions.

“May I,” I look down, my face burning, and focus on the swell in her tightly buttoned jacket, right in front of me. Her hidden bosoms, longing to unbutton it right then and there, bare her to the envious eyes, and buy my face in them once again.

“Yes, of course.” She nods. So, I smile, yet rather than touch my clothing, much less my own warming nethers, I reach out, to gently touch Heather’s

“Huh!” her eyes fly open, and look to mine, as does her mouth as her jaw dropped.

“Silence.” The teacher warns, as I felt her labia, and spread them with my fingers, to expose her further.

By feel, and from personal experience of my own, as my eyes leave the examples’ and find the piercing blue of the instructors’. With a smile, and a wink, she can’t conceal her approval, surprise, and the flush of her cheeks betray her arousal as well.

That’s what I came forward for, not to get a hand on the slut, but to show Her what i was capable of. To show her what I might be able to do, after class, in private, after the other students left. But first, we had a show to perform, which she indicated with a nod, and wink in return.

“As you can see,” she points with the ruler, “Heather is in Tanner Stage 1, with no signs of pubic growth, and any indication of arousal is also gone away. Heather, does that mean you have learned your lesson?”

“Nhm!” She sobbed, but nodded assent.

“Now you may return to your seat. Any other volunteers, to show your anatomy?”

“Yes,” I just smile, “I’m all ready here, so obviously, I can help you continue the lesson.”



“Mh?” I blinked, and looked up from my desk.

Mrs Davenport glanced up, but just returned to her grading, while the other students continued the reading.

“Hh,” I looked around. Having finished it, and been given permission to put my head down, I got out my notes, to write out the fantasy.

I wish we had sex education here, in private school, much less that the lovely, if dour woman would teach it, with such erotic dominance.

But I am a good girl, with the naughtiest of thoughts.


Impossible ones, and sinful as hell.

Not just for boys, nor could I confess them honestly, but I know I’m destined for hell. No one else has to, not that I crave that kind of attention. Exposure, shame, and ridicule from my peers. Maybe I can finish it, with them standing up, cumming forward to shower me with their sinful seeds.

My teacher, one teacher in particular? Yes, I could certainly appreciate that sort of attention. Not that I would ever act. Out for detention, punishment, but a spanking, in private, bent over the desk with her hand gently caressing my skirt between swats of discipline.

A girl can dream, if I’m already destined for hell. For ever, more of these thoughts won’t burn me for any longer, with the naughty things I have already done, and look forward to doing when I get home. Alone, in my room, where my sin is between me, and the eyes of God.

Yeah, you like watching me, play with myself, you immortal pervert? Go ahead and judge me, damn me, punish me. I look forward to meeting Him. To see what He has in store for my eternity. My darkest secret is I welcome it. An eternity of Rape? Demonic torment, erotic torture?

I’m just saving up, my secret sins, so when I do die, he’ll have plenty of ideas for me. Too bad he’s not a she, but we don’t get what we want. That would defeat the purpose, but I imagine Lilith looks a lot like Mrs. Davenport. The bitch. The beautiful, scary, sadistic judgemental bitch. But I bet she likes to watch. Go ahead, rape me for eternity. As long as she can watch.

She looks confused by my wink, so I smile, when she looks away. Turns another paper, but glances up, before taking a breath, and turning back to her work. See you after school, bitch. I’m sure she’ll ask about it some time. What is she going to do, spank me?



“Sorry, mis,”

“Heather, HUSH!” I nod, obediently.

I just wish, I had the courage to do it. For real, slip my skirt up my thighs. My underpants down to my knees, my fingers to the hellish pit of sin to show her what I think about, just looking at her.

But, there’s all these boys around, and I am a coward. The truth is, if I could, such a display would be.

Just for her.

« Last Edit: September 19, 2017, 03:34:33 PM by Psiberzerker »

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Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #2 on: September 19, 2017, 03:46:33 PM »

Kinda cutting, and shuffling everything together here.  Sorry for the confusion.  The following excerpt out of context.  And therfore out of Order.  Basically the start of the last page, however I have to take a break, and find a proper Image to illustrate it.  Those studies are at the bottom of the page, sideways with the text crawled in between on the other end:


Notes (f/F Fant.)

[Lucinda, huh? It's perfect, you know sounds dour and severe.

Like she looks, her looks of disapproval.

I practiced, in the mirror, but I still can't get it quite right.

I brought my grade up, and was getting better and better marks on my essays, especially.

Even the occasional note, a single word of praise in her lovely script, in red ink.

She did help me, with my writing.  Too bad I can't take Art yet.  

I could really work on my drawing.

Pantsuit today. I'd rather see her legs

in one of those tight skirts she usually wears.

Drawn taut by her heels, and run my hand up the fine nylon of her stocking.

Feel up under the fabric to the garter belt, and unzip it from the side to slip it down.

Sit her down, so I can bend over her. Slip her blazer off her shoulders for her to hold it behind her, and slowly work my way down the buttons of her blouse...

Yeah, I hope she's thinking about it too, what I'm thinking about. I like Helen, but she's a girl. Fun to play with, and so creative, she even helped me with my grades until she shared her writing with me. Her dark fantasies, and then her bed. But she's still just a girl, and I'd much rather learn from a Woman. She can teach me, I can submit to her, all that I had learned, and show her what a bright pupil I can be. Then, maybe we can do one of the old ones. Like Mrs. Goldman, Yeah. I can imagine the rest of the class there, watching and laughing, playing with themselves obediently at their desks. Watching her get punished for abusing herself in class, then calling on me to assist in the demonstration...



"Yes, Mrs. Davenport?" She pointed, down, and I lowered my head. Better get back to the reading, so I have time to finish this, later.]


"Lucy" (FG Fant)

"Ngh!" She flopped the book closed, and Edward turned back quickly.


She looked up, biting her lip, guiltily. "Yes, ms. Davenport?"

It's Mrs.  No matter how many times I tell her, and her grin tells me she's doing it on purpose.  I snapped, and motioned for her. "Bring your notes."

I had seen them. Together in the halls, and considered that she might be conspiring with her peers, in my class.

I took a glance, then folded it, behind my desk. "Return to your seat."

"Yes, Mrs. Davenport." She sat down, but I had seen enough in that glance to deduce that her flush was not entirely of shame. I frowned, then glared. Down to indicate without speaking it out loud, but she nodded, and closed her knees together under her desk. It's not like I longed to see her again. Merely exchanged glances, in the hall. At most a smile before she had to run off to In School Suspension. I had wondered, who else might have harbored such feelings in my class, but now is not the time. It wouldn't be appropriate to pull out the folded sheet, and read what she had written beside the picture, but it was almost like a snapshot. I just had to close my eyes, but I had wondered how some of the other students see me.

More like an X-ray, though more appropriately PG-13. Actually 14, remedial, I remind myself. I would pass her, could without reservation due to her notable improvement. Even aknowledge her tutor, no need for extra credit, for her to stay after class,


But that's not my fantasy, and I shouldn't indulge them, here in front of my charges. I just could not help but notice that she must have drawn the underlying structure first, to drape the outlines, over the underwear. No, not X-rated, but certainly Erotic. The Underwear, in greater detail than the shear outline of a skirt, jacket, blouse. The garter belt. My husband had noticed, said that I had been so much more. Passionate. Paused to select the proper word, looking down, and nodding approval, when really I had been. Feeling more attractive. No, what's the word. "Hhhh," I could use a cigarette, to think. Desirable. Desired as I had been lately, and forced to face it. I am a woman, in my prime, and I can't hide it. When I was that age, I felt ugly, then slutty when they found out I was dating. Going steady, called me Lucy, as if I were that easy;

"Uhm," I looked up. "I think we're all done with the reading."

"Good," stand, and button my blazer. A bit warm, but I still have to wear that hat. That slowly slipping fascade of professionality. Not to say I haven't wondered, what they must think of me, but there wasn't much written beside that profile she had drawn. Hopefully enough for some insight, for I must admit, I am a little curious.

'aHm." I cleared my throat, "Now;" And went on with the lesson.


4 Shadows (Pretty much what this one's about.)

He just dropped his tray, sat down, right at our table.

"What the fuck?"

He turned, chucked his head.  "You know Helen?"

I looked, at the new girl.  I guessed, followed her on those heels.  Walking to the lunch line.

"The new girl?"

He laughed, "She's not new.  She's in my lit class."

"It's lit?"

"Well, it's short for Literature."

David laughed.  "That's Helen, Helen Palmer?"

"Yeah, you remember?"

"I don't remember either of them,"  The Palmer sisters, but, "looking like that."   Maybe, with some contacts, and one hell of a makeover.

"Yeah, she got suspended last thursday."

"What for?"

Eddy laughed, and leaned over.  So, we all leaned in.  'she's a lesbo.'



"Seriously.  She got suspended for writing lesbo smut to mrs. Davenport.  Then, she showed up this morning, looking like that?"

"SWOOoo!"  I had to admit.  "She doesn't look like no lesbo."  She grew up.  A lot, "sure dressed up nice."

"Yeah, she started babbling something about destiny, but she wrote this."  he got out a paper.  White paper, no lines, or any of the 3 holes to snap it into a binder.  

3 of them.  "I made copies."

"Huh."  I glanced at it.  [She put down her hand, and eagerly came up to the board.]  "I'll read it later."  Folded it back shut, and tucked it under my tray.

"So," Davy, "It's a story."  Kept reading.  "A lesbo sex story?"

"No."  he took his tray, turned back.  "You'll see."


Tutor (f/G Teen Saph Fant)

[We push the desk up to the door. Ostensibly for room, with both of us around it, but of course as a barricade against parental entry.

"Relax," I rubbed her shoulders, "You feeling all right?" Brush the whisps of hair back from her neck to see the heat spreading, that I had felt.

"It's just a fever," she nodded, "But. I have been feeling odd, lately."

"How so?"

"Hot, in my chest. And swollen, and they. Ache?"

"Here?" I felt down her dress, and training bra.


"Well," I found the points of inflammation, "It helps to massage them, when they get like this. Does that feel better?"

"Oh, yes."

"Of course, it's easier without this shirt on, and it might help you cool off. Okay?"

"Yeah," I helped her out of it, and she held up her arms. "Any other symptoms?" For the cotton to slip up, over her long lean supple smooth skin. "There, still feeling hot?"

"Yeah, but." She crossed her legs, "Now it's just lower."

"Well, go ahead and massage them, like I showed you," I come around the side, and sit on the corner of the desk. Much redder now, it spread over her shoulder, down her chest, and under the immature undergarment, which contained the source of irritation. "Is this in the way?" I plucked at the thin straps, and she nodded. Inflammation.

"My heart. It's racing so fast!" I felt over it. "Hhn." She bit her lip, and looked up. At me, her young lovely angular face, covered in these new feelings as the deep stain of her flush. Devoid of makeup, the gritty grease paint that tries, yet ultimately fails to reproduce this. Her youth, her arousal, and how they only enhance her natural beauty.

"Let me help you out of this." She has to twist a shoulder out, and her hair falls, as she lets her arms down once again. To nervously twist the fabric, ribbons, and straps in her fingers. Fidgeting, uncomfortably, "There," lift her chin in the crook of my finger, and swipe my thumb along her swollen, blood darkened lips. She smiles, sighs through her nose, and the backs of my fingers run down her hot ruddy sternum to her flat midriff. "Here?"

She shook her head. "Inside." Closed her eyes.


"Mhm?" Barely a teen, and little more than a tall graceful girl. Pale by default, though now a deep red, deeper than any pink, burning up, from the source of her fever. The hearth, in her lap. 'between my legs.'

"Here?" I felt out, gently brushing down inside the thighs, then caressing back in with my fingertips. "How does it feel?"


"Does it ache?"

"Hn, noh? It feels." She frowns, "Hungry?"

"Maybe I should try massaging it. You think that might make it feel better?"

"HhH!" She shivered.

"Are you cold?" Shook her head. "No, you don't feel cold at all." Plucking at the scalloped pink edging, around the elastic band on the top of the last thing she was wearing.

"Yeah," She swallowed. "In there."

"You fell hot?" I slipped my fingertips, back and forth, inside the waistband. "In here? Yes, you do. So hot, you're sweating."

"Yeah." My nails brushing the whispy curls, I flipped my hand over, to gently work my fingertips into the hairs, and the spongey swollen mass behind them.


"That feel better?"

"Ngh! No, I think, it's getting worse. Uh!" They snapped back as I quickly pulled out my fingers.

"Snh! Well." I felt up her sides, and help her "Up! Why don't you sit down here." Back down to her hips. "Lets get these hot things off of you." Turned around, I put her feet up on the chair. Turned sideways, I knelt, as they came to a stop around her ankles. "SNHHHHH! Huhhhh! Snhhhhh!" I felt back up her legs, to spread her knees. "Well," I followed my nose. "I could try," my knuckles in between her thighs, "To kiss it and make it better."

"Oh!" Her shoulders fell back against the door.]


Eddy  (B Solo Fant)

"Huh!"  I couldn't believe it.  I still don't know, but I think she wants me to do it.  To her, or miss davenport, is the question.  Kinda hard to figure out, from the way she writes she doesn't never come out and say anything, but that.

"Ngh!  Huh!"  She couldn't possibly want me to rape her, right?  Gang rape, why?  Why would she possibly want us to gang rape Lucinda, when at the same time she wrote so much about, being in love with her?  I don't know, it sounds like love, or lesbian lust, but then why else give me copies to give to the guys?

Well, other than she doesn't like me.  I can tell, the way she treats me, and she acts all pissed off at me for reading over her shoulder, but then why draw nasty pictures for me to see.  Much less copies of stories about gang-rape.

Gang raping out teacher, in class, or at least the start.  It stops right before it gets to the good stuff, so maybe she just wants us to finish it for her?

But why?  Obviously we can't, gang rape her in front of the class, but then otherwise why would she write that, and give me extra copies to give to the other boys?

I bet the Holmes brothers would do it, though.  That's why i picked them.  They're into it, totally down with the idea, I can tell.  Especially Davy, but I think we might talk Freddy into it too.

I don't know if she need 3 boys, but she made 2 copies, maybe she just wants to play teacher, for a gangbang?

But them who would she get to play her?  She does look kind of teacherly, in that outfit, even without her glasses.



Note, it's a recurring fantasy of mine to include all 4 of the Holmes and Holmes pathotypes in the same scene/rape gang.  However, I've also got a recurring fetish for gender role reversal, so I couldn't help making one of them a girl.  Up to you to guess which is which, if you're any good at recognizing the outward signs...

Not so much a Lietmotif, but what I've been playing in the back of my head:  Paranoid
« Last Edit: September 27, 2017, 10:27:29 AM by Psiberzerker »

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Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #3 on: September 25, 2017, 06:31:37 AM »


"Now class," she changed.  "Settle down."  

It doesn't really look like a classroom.  It's too dark, for one thing, and the light.  Well, it's just a lightbulb, screwed into a plate on the bottom of one of the boards.  Wires running between them.  

"Here's the reading," she walked back and forth, gave us sheets, and the desks aren't right, either.  Just dragged some folding chairs down here, the desks don't even match, but she walks back to hers.  Up front, she sits on it.  

[We'll show her.  Walking around so hot, doesn't she know what that does to us?  Makes our dicks hard, ready to plunge into her tight;]

"Huh!"  Her legs up, crossed so she can put her shoe into the seat of another folding chair.  Leaning over to unbuckle it, and the skirt riding up her stocking to a clip on the side.  Looking up, I look back down at the paper.

[We'll show her, that bitch.  Teasing us like that, we'll show her what happens to bitches that tease us like that.]

I looked over, but Freddy's chair got stuck, on a crack in the concrete.  He yanked it, so the foot jumped, and stood up, behind his desk.

"Freddy.  Sit down."


"I said, sit down!"

"I'll show you."

"What are, you," she struggled, "Stop, let go of me!"

"This what you want?"  His hand, pushed her skirt up even higher on her leg.  Her lap.  

"No, stop," she struggled, "You're hurting me."  Tried to twist her arm out of his hand, beat on his chest with her fist.


She looked at me, and I saw the slightest nod.  I pushed the seat back, knowing it was an act.

"OWH!"  He hit her, and she sprawled on her desk.

I was so hard, watching her blouse tear open.  Her tits shook in her bra, and I had it out.

"We'll show you."

Freddy looked back, and stepped aside.  Went around the desk so I could get between her legs.  Held her arms, and pulling apart her knees, I could feel the rough tight nylon of her stalkings.

"Slut didn't even wear any underwear."

"No, yeaAH!"

She was asking for it, this was all an act.


She wanted it, so we gave it to her.



"Hhuh!"  I curled up, spasming.  Inside, and closed my eyes.  Felt the hot wet gushes, splashing, and running down my buttom.  My leg.  Curled up on my side.  "Hhuh!"  Shivering.

This is what I could never do.  Fucking my bedpost so hard it hurt.  Bled, and anything else I could shove in there.

"We're not done with you yet, bitch."

"NYAUH!"  He pulled my hair.

"Open wide."

"Nh, nowMPH!"  I tried to turn away.

"Dyke.  Suck it dyke.  Suck that dick."

"Ngh, nauh!  AUGH!"

"Don't make me hurt you."

"WOWLGH!  Ghl?"  He just held it in there, choking me.  I gagged, but it wouldn't come out, and I couldn't breathe.  "KHAH!"  I panted, tried to crawl off the desk, but he hit me.

"GHN!"  I fell.  

So, this is what rape feels like.

His brother, Davy.  He's not so rough.  He just fucked me, said the lines, but he wanted sex.  Got off on it quick, but.

"Don't hurt me?"


"GHN!"  Almost broke my ribs, kicking me up against the old dresser.  My arm covered it, all by itself, like it does when I was tickled, but.

"You're mine now, bitch."

He likes it.




"Yeah, scream for me, slut!"

He can rape.

"Hhuh!"  He held my hair, twisted in his fist so hard, I could feel the roots pop.  The strands snap.  "Uh!"  The hot gush of his spunk on my face.  "Huh! Yeah, hot little piece of ass."

"Ngh!"  I couldn't turn away.

"Huh!  Yeah.  Break in that cherry ass of yours next.  Dyke."

I nodded.  Slumped to the floor, and just curled up.  Hugging my legs, against the back of the dresser.

My humiliation was complete.

"Your turn, Eddy."

"No."  He didn't even get up.  "I don't want to."

"Suit yourself, you dickless pussy."

"Are you all right?"

He was there.

"Huh!"  I wiped my hair out of my face, stuck to the gritty mes that was Freddy's load.  "AkuHUH!"  Spat.  "Yeah, that was perfect."


Eddy  (fB Mole)

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just hold me."  She wiped her face, and just let her shirt fall back down.  I pulled it out, to cover her, but I couldn't even move.  

The whole time.  She said it was perfect, but they hurt her so bad.  Especially Freddy.

"Why do you like that?"

"HuhH!"  She shivered.

"Didn't it hurt?"

She nodded, "I don't know."  Shrugged, under my arm, so I hugged her tighter.  I didn't even care about the, mess.  On her shirt where she wiped it off, so it stuck to her, and got on my shirt.  "I had to know.  There was only one way to find out if they were the right boys."  She turned to me.  "Thank you.  You did so well.  Picking the Holmes boys, huh!  I don't know why i didn't think of them, they're perfect."


"Rape Lucinda?'  She nodded.


"I don't know, she's a bitch?"

"No, she's not that bad."

"You're not getting cold feet, are you.  Don't worry, you don't have to do anything.  I'm sure they can handle it without you.  You froze up."

I nodded.

"You're not going to tell anyone about our little plan?"  I shook my head.  "Good.  Its okay, don't cry."


"Some boys just don't have it in them."

"I can't.  I couldn't never hurt you.  I love you."

"Oh!'  She hugged my head, "You're so sweet."

"Uh,"  She touched me, "what are you?" 

"I thought you loved me."


"I just want to show you, how much I appreciate all you've done.  You can touch me too."  I carefully pull back the fabric.  The white fabric of her shirt, still sticky from his. 


"Kiss me."  She held my hand, over her chest.

It felt weird.  Not her chest, i felt funny.  Not at all like I thought.  I always dreamed about being with her, and even kissing me.  Her tongue in my mouth, and her fingers pinching it.  Stroking back and forth unlike I had ever beaten off, what's wrong with me?  I should be happy, maybe it's what just happened.  Yeah, that's got to be it, you're just jealous that they got her first.  I couldn't stop them if I tried, but I didn't want to.

Hurt her, how could I just sit there and watch them hurt the woman I love?

It's what she wanted.

"Hhuh!"  I sat back, and she let go.  "Ngh!  Hn!"

"There."  She patted it.  "Feel better?"

I nodded. 

"Here.  Sh!"  Her fingers on my lips.  "Taste it."

It wasn't that bad.
« Last Edit: September 25, 2017, 07:56:14 AM by Psiberzerker »

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Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #4 on: September 25, 2017, 08:10:22 AM »
Authoress  (FG Incest.  Incidentally, the Character Codes B/G denote tweens, on the cusp of Teenage/Adolescence/Sexuality.  About 12yo, give or take, depending on the character.)

[Well, I guess I got into porn first.  My brothers had some, one of those "No girls allowed" games, but they didn't hide them very well.  Don't ask me where they got them, our father had tapes, then DVDs, and eventually downloaded off the internet when we got that.  But video, not just pictures in magazines, and "Hardcore."

   The boys had teens, but softcore, and no boys.  I asked the eldest what the deal is with lesbians.  I mean, logically, it's the 1 kind of sex they're never going to get is the kind without no dick in it, but that's what they looked at.  I don't like looking at fag porn.  He said "2 hot
girls is better'n 1," so I guess that's it.  Not like there's any stories behind it, just names, and pictures.

   Then I guess I figured it out, process of elimination.  What they don't do is touch anything, really.  I mean, on the outside.  They grabbed boobs, or rubbed eachother's butts.  And said things, that's how I knew what toys were for.  They said "Inside me," and held their pussies open to show the hole.  So, that's one mystery solved, and why they're shaped like that.  I even figured out they're supposed to be like dicks.  "I wish we had a real dick.  Don't you want to come over, and fuck us with your big hard cock?"

   "Huh!" I thought they're lesbians?  I finally got so confused I had to ask mom.

   She said it was pretend.  "They're not real lesbians," which is why they just pose, or look at it, stick their tongue out, but they don't touch it.  "See?  they're not even turned on, at all."

   Then, I was confused about their toys, and there fingers, because they never really touched it with them either.  "How can you tell?"

   "Because I know how it feels.  Look at their lips, their nipples, the color of their skin?"


   "Women flush when we're aroused?"

   "Like a toilet?"

   She laughed, "No, with blood.  Like a blush, but all over, especially in the face, and neck."

   "Oh," I shrugged, "I never felt that." Just when I'm ashamed, or amberissed.

   She told me "I was going to wait to tell you this until you're older," but she sat down on the bed, and showed me, in the book.  "Girls play with ourselves too," but she's not a girl, she's my mom.  So, she had to get out her books, and show me.  They showed a lot more.  "Huh, see?"

   "There hairy!"

   "Yes, these are what real lesbians look like.  See how short her nails are?" I nodded, but you couldn't see her fingers very well, or her beaver with them in the way.  "When you grow up, you'll grow hair too.  There, and here," she tickled me under my arms.  I laughed, but I like tickling, my little brothers and sister don't, and sometimes it sucks when my big brother doesn't let me breathe, but she knew how to tickle right.

   The worst spots are on my legs, especially on the inside, and she knows it.  But she let me breathe, and just held them.  In her lap, she just rubbed up, and down until it didn't tickle any more.  "Feel better?" I nodded.  "Good, because now I have to show you something.  Go get the mirror."

   She looked real serious, and red like when she's mad, but her voice was real low, and sounded real rough.  "Hm," I brought it back from the vanity. "You can't really take a picture of this," her hands slipped my nighty up my hips, and she helped me push my underpants down.  "Hop up here," she helped me up on the bed, and pushed my underpants down to my feet.  "Spread your legs," she held my thighs in her fingers, and rubbed them a little more.

   "Huh!" I felt so hot, I wanted to turn on the fan, but she just held the mirror, "Can you see?" And tilted it until I could.  I didn't look like the girls in the pictures, much less the real lesbians in mom's hardcore.  It looked fat, I wasn't, maybe a little baby-fat, but there was this big pudge under my tummy.  It got in the way, so I can't see anything from the top, but with the mirror tilted up.

   Well, there wasn't really nothing to see.  Just my butt in front, nothing really in there.  I was aware of where pee comes from before, but she just told me where babies come from, so I knew I had another hole, since you could see it in this one girl, who had her legs up, and her
fingers down like an upside down 2, or a catcher signaling the pitcher.

   "Where's my clitty?" I guess there was something in there, but it just looked like skin.  Like they tucked it in, but there was a little bit sticking out, but it didn't look like any clit I ever seen.  "In here," the bulge on top, "But you have to get aroused to see it, and it might still be
too tiny.  This," I squirmed a little.  "Sorry, how did that feel?"

   "Uh?" I don't know, "It really, uh!  I think it hurt?" I wasn't sure.

   "You're young, so it's still very sensitive, but the more turned on you are, the better it feels.  If it hurts too much to touch it, try pulling on this," the little skin tag, looked kind of like a raisin, but pink instead of black, or golden.

   Her fingers spread open, "Or you can pinch your labia, but here's what I have to show you." Her fingers split between, and really held me open.  "It's important," I looked, but it was so far away, "This is your hymen," she tapped it with her middle finger.  "Huh!  I'm sure they call it a cherry, or whatever, but this is the part they always get wrong.  Which is why you shouldn't learn about sex from porn when you're too young to understand.

   This is the myth of virginity." she let go, and pulled up my underpants. "You can sit down, now." They felt cool, then really rather warm.  "The myth is that it's like a wall, between being an innocent little girl, and you need a man to make you a woman."

   "Like Stephanie?" I sat down, but now they felt really warm, on my lips. "Huh!" I grabbed the magazine, and showed her.  "See?" [You wanna cum make me a woman?] "But she don't got no cherry!" She had it wide open, it got dark inside, like an open mouth, but looked real deep.

   "Again, she's pretending.  She's playing a virgin for the pictures, but some girls don't have one you can see, or it can be damaged just running around, and playing;"

   "Like she fell on a stick?" Naked?  Sounds more like a excuse.

   "Or riding a bike, doing the splits, or just playing around.  Most girls don't even feel it, and they may be a little damaged, yet still mostly intact.  Or, just too small, and pink to really see it, inside.  The point is, it doesn't have to be broken.  If you're careful, and gentle, you can
even feel inside, use toys, or show a boy how to make love without hurting you.  That's why it's important, because boys learn that they have to break it, so you have to be taught to respect it."

   "What about girls?"

   "Some girls don't even know about it.  They don't look, or break it with their fingers, or find something to stick in it.  I'magine most let their boyfriends break it, because they don't know any better." She smoothed my hair down over my head.  "Now, it's late," she got up, "So get under the covers.  You want a story tonite?"

   "No," I know all the stories all ready.  And I can read the books myself, but she left the magazine.  The new one I never seen before, but then Martha came in from the bath, and turned off the light.

   "Uh!" I was careful, but it still almost hurt, so I tried pinching the lips like momma showed me.  "Nh!"

   "I'm trying to sleep?"

   "Hh," I tried not to grunt, "Sorry." But it was so, I couldn't help it, like laughing when I get tickled.  So I put my head under my pillow, and just played around until I fell asleep.  `mh!' I couldn't breathe, but it just felt nice, holding my panties, so warm it started feeling sweaty.

   My mom said that it would be okay, however we decide to live, or whoever we fall in love with.  Like my aunts.  Well, my aunt, and great aunt, I guess it runs in my family, so she loved her sister, and her aunt, even if they have girlfriends, or go out to the bar to get picked up by women.  But that's private, it's not like I go over to their homes, and watch them.

   But it's like the girls in the pictures.  "h!" I wish I could turn on the light, but Martha needs her beauty sleep, and she hates waking up.  But, she kept snoring the whole time I got up, quietly opened the door, and let the knob turn slow when I closed it.  I wish I could stay in bed, but I could turn on the light in the bathroom, or I had a mirror like Mom's, but the one over the sink is so high, I have to push up on the sink to see more than the top of my nose.

   So, I layed down, but the tub was real cold.  Except my underpants, they got so hot under the covers I got all sweaty, and they even stuck to me a little.  "HhuhH!" They weren't as sticky as a bandaid, but it kind of felt like peeling one off when I pulled them down.  So, I got out, and pulled them tight between my feet.  The bathmat was soft enough under my knees I can just pull the seat down, and lay the pictures open on the toilet.

   "Hh!" This one had more stories, but again, it was just pretend.  Not as many pictures, and you can't see as much with them sitting on their faces, or feeling eachother between their legs.  "Huh!" Like the Biker Mommas break in a new honey.  "Huh!" Nobody has like 3 mommas, they don't even look like her, or old enough to be grandmoms.  "HhH!"

   But all kinds of girls.  She's young, and doesn't have any hair on her beaver, but she's tattooed, and got, like earrings?  In her belly button too, there's a little bead with a pink stone in the middle, it's so pretty. "Huh!"

   And a fat one, but her hands look so big and soft.  She's got big boobs, they sag down like momma's when she was nursing Eustice.  "Hhuh!" And such big nipples, you could even see the pink circles around my lips.  "Mh!" Mine felt so tiny, and hard, and "Mmh?" Almost hurt when I pinched them, but I can't suck my own chest.  They're down there, but in another picture, another lady held up her big round mellon, and kissed it, standing over her.

   "Huh!" She pulled her hair, no telling how hard, but the big fat one had her head in the way, so I can't see between my legs, but "Mh!" I know what she's doing in, "Mlh!" If I hold my fingers together, I can lick them, then I remember.  They said "I'm getting so hot, and wet!" HhHhuh!  "You might have to use some spit, or maybe some lotion if you're too dry."

   "Oh!" That's why they lick pussy, and I guess suck on toys.  To get it wet, but if I can't kiss my nipples, there's no way I can get my mouth all the way down there.  "Uh!" But the big hairy one, she held my legs up, so I tried that, and I kinda can see better that way.  Not just the fat up front with my clit inside it, but it felt really good pulling that down to see where it splits, and the bathmat is a little warmer, I had to lean over to pull my hair out, then the other side to pick up my shoulder.

   So, I had to lay down, and pull my hair up, to pull my legs back up, so I didn't pull it.  Too much, but I couldn't stop thinking about how she pulled my hair, in both hands, and pushed her hairy beaver in her nose.  "Nh, yeah!" I pulled my hair, and rubbed it on my nose, and kissed it on my fingers, and licked them through it, rubbing my slick fingers.  Just 2 of them, on the outside, but my lips kept slipping out of the way, and "Uh!" I almost fell down again, but it didn't hurt, it felt really good and, "Mmmmmh!?" I held my breath.

   I fell down, and the tiles felt so cold on my butt, but I didn't care. I felt like I had a fever, or it broke.  And a clitty, I think.  Or the wrinkled raisin skin was a little swollen, but the skin slipped around, and my fingers felt damp, and sticky, and, "Nnnhh!  HnhHN!" I rubbed so hard it really hurt, but it felt good too, and my legs shook so had my butt squeeked on the wam tile, and I just shivered on the floor until I wanted to move again.

   But I was cold, so I turned off the light, and took the new magazine back to curl up in the covers.  I rubbed my nipples until they warmed up, and didn't feel so frozen.  They got soft again, but swollen, like my tiny clit in my skin.  "Hh!" I can't feel it with my finger, but I really feel my finger on it, so I have to be gentle.  Or "UH!"

   "Reecy?" I stopped, held my breath.  "Are you, playing with yourself?"

   "huh!" I nodded in the dark.  "Huhuhn?" She does it too!

   "Well try to be quiet." She rolled over, and put the pillow over her head, "I'm trying to sleep."

   "Sorry," she's a light sleeper, and gets insomnia, and in trouble for napping in class, so maybe she'd sleep better if she stayed awake, and payed attention, but my fever was going away, and it didn't break again, so I fell asleep.

   But I remember, the gangbang, all the biker dikes, with their boobs, and big nipples, and hairy beavers, and meaty cunts, and clits so big you can see them, and hot wet mouths, and big fat fingers, and "Hh?" Blink, but close my eyes, and snuggle up.  "Hhhn!"

   Yeah, I wish I was that girl, with the pretty belly button, and the earrings in her tight pussy.  And all those lesbians with their hands on me, kissing and licking me all over, and feeling their boobs, and their fingers.  "Hhhhhhh." I tried it, gently.  I was so sweaty, even without my
underwear I didn't have to lick my fingers, but I could feel it.

   Gently, I don't want to break it, but maybe lick my fingers a little.  Like lips, rub them with my thumb, and kiss that so it's wet too, and.  "Nh hn!"

   "Uh!" she got up, and slammed the door.  Then the bathroom door, I guess she had to pee.  But my fever broke before she got back.  Not my hymen, I was careful even imagining the black plastic straps around her waist, and her thick fat thighs.  The big pink dick, and her hands squeezing my butt. What's it feel like, having all those hard, earings, and balls, and stuff, on the big round hard pink.  "Nhn?  Mh?  HmmmnnnnHHHH!"

   Oh yes!  I need of get one of those.  When I'm older, and bigger, and she even has one in her tongue.  Doesn't that hurt?  How does she talk?  What would that feel like, on my little raisin clit?  The lesbian sitting on her face had like, a line between her lips, and no jewelry, or nothing, but in the next picture her face looked so wet.

   So, I turned over, and hugged the pillow.  There's so many other stories, even one with girls.  3 girls, but it's like a gangbang again.  "Tied teen tickling." Ooh, with feathers, and ribbons, and pink ropes.  I didn't know they had pink ropes, but the tall one just held her up, by the
arms so her boobs stuck out like bowls, and she had them squashed on her back.  And her butt squished in her hips, and, the other girl.

   You couldn't even see her hand, behind her leg, but I didn't even have to read the story under it to tell.  She was tickling her, well you can't call it a pussy, or a beaver until it starts getting hairy on it, but Martha came back, so I put it away, and took a shower, and got dressed.
God, I was so sweaty it stank, but it washed off all right.  The water wasn't slippery enough to feel inside, and I need to do my nails.  Like moms, Maybe she can show me how she gets them so smooth on the edge, so I don't scratch myself.  I bet that'd hurt.

   She held my forehead, then kissed it.  "Well," she felt down my hair, "You might be a little feverish." she went to get the thermometer, and called the school.  Martha just grabbed her bags, and ran out to the bus, but she goes to the high-school.  "Hh!" She came back, I was all bundled up so my fingers stayed nice and warm.  I heard her heels in the hall, so I slipped the thermometer out, and stuck it under my tongue.  It tasted funny.

   "Mom?" she shook the Mercury out, and looked down.  "Are you a lesbian?"

   She sat down.  "Hh!" I snuggled my hair against her hand.  "I love your father, dear." He was gone to work, "And he gave me such beautiful children, but." She closed her eyes, and her boobs blew up.  "Huh!  Ever since, well I had Eustice." He was potty training by then.  "I guess sexuality can change, as you get older."

   "Like last night?"

   "How do you mean?" She shook her head.

   "Well, I wasn't," my face already felt hot, but I blushed so hard it burned my ears.

   "You tried playing with yourself." I nodded, "That's okay, but how did it make you feel?"

   "Hh!" Just like this.  "Hhhuh!  I think it gave me a fever."

   "Oh," she laughed, "No, I suppose it would feel like a fever to you." She shook her head, "Like in the stories, they say hot and wet?" Yeah, one of the boys books was Hot&Wet Lesbos, so.

   "I got sweaty too."


   I shrugged, "Uh?" Don't know the words, "Inside the outside?"

   "Mmhm?" She was a little red too, maybe it's catching.

   "When I think about.  Huh!" I closed my eyes, but I bit my lip, and my fingers, "Nh!"

   She held my face, kissed my head, and her boob felt so hot, and heavy and soft on the blanket.  "Nhm!"

   "What do you think?"

   I couldn't think, because my fever broke.  "Uhhhhhhn!?"

   "It's okay," she stood up.  "hun!"

   I couldn't get up, or didn't want to move, it just felt so hot, and snuggly and my head.  God, I don't even know how to say how my head felt. So full, maybe it's blood?  My heartbeat wasn't pounding as loud.

   "Oh!" Mom was in her bedroom.  "Huh, Hunh!" Watching a movie, but her eyes are closed.  "Yeah!" he wasn't sleeping.  I mean, she was back in bed, but her knees kept shaking under the covers.  "Mhm!" And she bit her lips.

   "Hh," she looked at me.  "Looks like you got my fever too." She smiled, and nodded, then her eyes blinked real fast, but they stayed closed.  Scrunched so tight, I remember something from the stories, "You wanna hand with that?"

   I pulled the covers down, off her legs.  "Oh!" I got on the bed, "I love you mommy." I hadn't called her that, since.  Well, I don't remember when I stopped, Martha called her "MoOoM!" So, I thought I out-grew it, but I haven't nursed for, why I guess it must be over 10 years, now.  Eustice weaned, so she dried up, and I wish I could remember what her milk tasted like, but I turned my head, so it pulled my hair a little, and pulled her other nipple over.

   "Huh!" she had a beaver.  It's not like hair at all, it's more like fur, but she shaves her legs, and under her arms, and she smells so strong.  It doesn't stink, she's not that sweaty, and her nipples aren't even salty, but.

   Ooh, Her clit is, like.

   "Nyh!" She pushed my fingers, up, and down.  I giggle, but she makes me rub it harder, faster, then she shakes my hand.  Hard, but side-to-side instead for back and forth, and her nipple slipped out of my mouth, but I bet her fever was about to break.  "Auh!" she pushed her hand away, and squeezed her fingers between her legs.  "Hin hihn Hhin!" She was shivering so hard, so I just rubbed her arm, and her shoulder.  I could feel the muscle, in the back of her arm, it felt hard, then relaxed, twitched a little.

   "Feel better?" She blinked up, so I kissed her.  Then she pulled on my hips, to kiss me between my legs.  I don't know what she did.  I mean I felt it, especially her tongue in my hymen, but it was hard to pay attention, or even think about anything, but not falling over, and all the feelings were too distracting.  So, I didn't really learn much, until my fever broke again.

   Her fingers felt so wet, on my nipple, so I picked up her hand, and kissed them, and licked them like lips.  They tasted wonderful, a lot like the thermometer did, after I warmed it up inside me.  In my, huh!  Maybe we can talk about it later, but I knew it was hotter then my mouth.  When I get the fever, it has to be, because that's where the fever came from.  I'm not sick.  It just turns out I'm a lesbian, like my mom.  "Hihhhnnn."

   She caught her breath, and wiped her mouth.  Then, we talked.  I cried, she told me we can't, we shouldn't have done that in the first place.  It was a mistake, "I'm sorry."

   "No," it's better than okay, "I love it," I never want to stop.

   "I know," she gulped, but looked scared, "But you better find a girl closer to your own age.  You're too young, and my little girl.  So, it's inappropriate." But he let me keep the magazines.  I mean her grown up real hairy tattooed lesbians ones, not like the teenager pretend lesbos.  I like those better, but she's right.  I better find another girl, I don't want to wait to be a woman, but I have to.

   Too bad Martha isn't gay, she doesn't even play with herself.  But she has boobs, and a little pussy.  Not like a beaver, but we share a room, change together all the time, and I've seen it.  She kind of reminds me of the girl from the dyke biker gangbang, only with hair on her pussy, and no tattoos, or, jewelry.  She has earrings, but just wears them in her ears.

   So, I never played lesbo with mom again, but we kept talking, she kept sharing her porn with me, and we masturbated together.  Just like the boys circle-jerk together, I even saw Martha play with herself when I came out to her, and she showed me what kind of porn she likes.  Stories, a lot of very romantic stories, they don't even get naked, or in their clothes until almost the end, but she gets so turned on.  I can tell momma had the talk with her first, years ago, I guess when she got her period.  But she's okay
with me being gay, just like we don't tell on mom when she has a girlfriend over, and she doesn't tell dad about the porn, and the underwear, and the toys she gets us.  Martha has pills, and rubbers too.

   But her toys are too big for me, and they don't really make them in my size.  I red her stories though, they're really sexy.  I mean at the end, who knew how dirty they really get, unless you read them?  But she doesn't have to hide them, like the ones with all the pictures.  Just the one on the cover, their breasts heaving in their blouse, but I don't like his arms holding hers.  Too big, and hairy, and ugly with wrinkles from his muscles. I don't want that, but sometimes, I can imagine it says she, instead of he. Just like imagining the earring girl is me, in the gangbang.

   She takes me in Her arms, and I feel faint.  My chest heaving in my blouse against Hers.  Only it's warm, and soft, and round, instead of strong, and flat, and hairy.  And she feels so WOmanly.  "Huh!" But I have to stop when they start talking about his throbbing manhood.

   "Mom?" She turned in the kitchen, shaking a pan on the stove.

   "Yes sweetheart?" Before anyone else gets home, since these talks are private.

   "Why don't they write romance for lesbians?" I mean girls like romance stories, and boys like pictures.  So obviously, lesbians should have romance.

   "Oh," she shook her head, "They do." Covered the pan, and turned it down.



Just to be clear, that's all Fantasy.  Also,

« Last Edit: September 25, 2017, 08:48:34 AM by Psiberzerker »

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Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #5 on: September 25, 2017, 09:00:23 AM »
De-Tension (It's a pun.)




[I can't believe it.  He called her Bitch!  Didn't know he had it in him, but he's still very much a boy.  A sweet little boy, he loves me, so he'll do anything for me, but, I still can't believe he went through with it.

After I got in trouble for "Disrupting class."

I guess he was defending me, what?  She's just mad because it's true, she is a bitch.  Unfortunately, she's seen us together, in the halls, and frowned suspiciously.  So, he needs an alibi, too.  I wish I could be there, to watch, but just watching her.  

The flush run down her neck, looking up from, whatever it is she's been writing lately.  F&D know to get a copy, and I can't wait to see what fantasies they bring back, but I know they must be sexual.  Why else would she get so hot, and paranoid, like one of us will just get up, and see what she's writing.  

Not to mention her neck, getting red hot, the blood draining out from under her makeup until the teacher's assistant has to watch us.  She excuses herself, to go to the bathroom, I can just guess what for.  I just gotta know what she' thinks about, not me.  She won't even look at me, even when she has to.  Like when I raise my hand.

"Cunt.  Try crock.  And shit.  Take' mushrooms.  She sauteed the mushrooms in the margarine..."

The muffled laughs, my classmates, getting what I'm doing.  What's a good way to say "Fuck" in clAss, without really saying fuck in clAss?  

She knows what I'm doing, but I didn't want to get away with it, I wanted detention.]


Cindy (Also a pun.  The title is a Portmanteau of several things, hiding the deeper meanings...)

Finally, the last bell.  I have work to do, but I can't focus on grading papers.  Too much sexual tension.

I know I shouldn't write such things in class.  I have to strike while the iron is hot, but today's.

Certainly shouldn't be bringing a vibe to school.  Not that I would use it on any of them, but that's not what I'm afraid of.

Bad enough, the first time.  The first one, why I never thought about a girl, even when I was another girl.  A young girl, learning from an older more experienced one.

The tutor/pupil fantasy was bad enough, but not something I could do.  I suppose it was just a variation on the Student teacher one, to distance myself from one.

Student, in particular.


"It's sick.  HhuhH!"

Powerful little motor in this one.  I close my eyes, try to think of someone else, but I can't get her face out of my mind.

My.  Well, "Wynnie.  HhuhuhUH!"

God, this.   It's not the vibe's vibes.  It's just.

She's my daughter!


She's starting to grow up, but it.  It's.

"Incest, Hahn!"

Now, she's starting to grow up, and a mother certainly shouldn't be looking at her daughter.  Her nipples, swollen and hot, so they show through her nightshirt.  Her underpants, and the pang of jealousy when she bends over her father's lap to kiss him goodnight.

The lines of her underpants, the light silky fabric of her nighty tight over her bottom.  Imagining how that must feel with my hand.  My fingers, caressing that, and the pink piping around her soft young delicious looking buttocks.


Fuck!  I certainly should be climaxing.

Thinking about touching my own daughter.


Pulling up the hem of her nighty.  Slipping the seat of her "Panties, huhn.  MYN!"

Turning around, standing up to see her hairs.  The tiny triangle of brown curls she must have, now that she's becoming a young lady.

Now that she's bleeding.

A virgin, and the cute grunt of her hymen breaking on my pinky nail.


I can't help it.  I wanted to protect her.  Shelter her from that, keep her safe from boys.


"Ahn, predator."

But what if the predator is in her own home?

What if she's her own mother?

"Hih, ihn!  Huh!  Hihhhhn!"  Twist the base, and catch my breath.  Wipe my mouth first, then tear off some paper to get my other lips.

My wet lips.

The dampness between my lips.  My hairy adult beaver, and blink away the image of her eyes.  Going wide, the first time she sees it.


I'm sick.  But I had to do something.

First, those papers aren't going to grade themselves.



So, we got out, but Mrs. Davenport was waiting.  To talk to her, so I can't be with her.

My girlfriend, Helen.

"Hey, wait up!"

They caught up with me out in the parking lot.

"Where's she?"  Freddy, grinning.  "We got something for her."  Wiggling his eyebrow.

"Oh yeah?  What?"  I guess while I wait for her.  "So, how'd it go?"

"We didn't rape her."

"Sh!"  Freddy pushed him, "Come on."

I looked back at the doors.

"You got to read this."

"What is it?"

"It's like a confession, about her molesting her daughter."


"Lucy.  Hahaha!"  He nodded, "Turns out she's a total pedo."


"No really.  Read it yourself."

"We couldn't rape her."

"You couldn't.  Shrimp."  He pushed him, said to me.  "He could barely even get it up."

"Yeah, because she's old?  I'm not into old ladies, like you are, Alfred."

"Watch it, pipsqueak.  You're lucky I let you cum along."

"So, what'd you do?"

"Well, first we waited outside the lav.  She locked the door, but we could hear her in there."

"She was playing with herself."

"Yeah, she totally brought a dildo to school!"


"No really!  She kept talking to herself, about predators, and incest, and moaning so loud we could hear her through the door."

"It's true, I heard it too."

"Shut up, I'm telling it!"

"Well, then what?"

"Then she came out, but we already had the pantyhose masks on.  Everyone else couldn't wait to get out of there.  Except for detention, I guess."

"Yeah, Mr. Rutherford left in a hurry too."  Friday, we always clear out for the weekend on fridays.  That's why she picked a friday.

"So then she said don't hurt me, so I decided not to."  He puffed up his chest.  As if to beat on it, like a gorilla.  "I don't have to rape.  Well, what we did with Helen wasn't rape.  She wanted it, she just wanted it to be Like rape, but she told us to.  So, it's not rape."

"I know."  But he's.  Like the big dog, he likes to do all the talking, and order you around, so I didn't tell him.

She's my girlfriend.  She just used him for sex.  Both of them, and to get back at Lucinda, but she doesn't even like them.  She loves me, she told me, so that's how I got a girlfriend.

I can't wait until she's done, so I can be with her.

I miss her so much.



Here's where the lines between [Fantasy(]Reality) start to overlap.  In the following, alternating narratives represent different players, dictating for Helen to transcribe, proofread by Sin D.


[Welcome to the Family

   I couldn't believe what was happening.  I'd been going out with Judith a few months, and it was starting to get serious.  She tried to warn me, how judgemental her parents could be, and hesiated to take me home, to meet them, get their approval, I just had no idea how difficult that could be.

   All through dinner, she looked at me.  Her mother, frowning at everything I said, juding me, and finally I just kept quiet.  "Are you listening?" Her voice went cold, harsh, an I couldn't bring myself to look up.  At her glare, her judgemental eyes, so I just nodded.  "Is that a

   "No, maam." I mumbled, "I have never had sex, with anyone."

   "Why not?"

   "I'm christian?  I saved myself, for my wife."

   "How quaint.  So, he hasn't touched you, or tried to?"

   Thank god she asked her daughter.  The way she said it, I imagined her father.  Honestly feared him a little, but she said her "Folks." He didn't say anything, just ate, and followed the conversation.  Quietly, "I'll handle this," she said.

   Then the inquisition began.

   "No, mother.  We haven't had sex, we kissed.  Maybe made out, a little.  But we haven't had sex.  Not yet."

   "Why not?  You're a healthy young man, right?" I nodded, "You have needs, what's wrong?  Is my daughter not attractive enough for you, or are you still having trouble getting it up?  Keeping it up for her?"

   "No, maam.  We are just not married."

   "He's just nervous." June defended me.  "He barely got to second base, and I had to put his hands on me."

   I closed my eyes, swallowed, and braced myself for the inevitable anger.

   "Well," she got up, "I hope he can do better than that." Dropped her napkin on her plate, covered the food like a funeral shroud, and my heart sank.  I'm sure it was good cooking, I was just so nervous, I barely tasted it.  "Huh!" she sighed, "Come on then.  Let's see what he's got, in my parlor."

   I looked back, at June, but she just nodded.  Seriously, but silently, and pulled the doors closed.

   "Sit, down."

   My knees gave out.

   "Well, you're obedient, I'll give you that."

   "Yes, maam."

   "Tell me about your mother."

   "Excuse me?" I blinked.

   "No." She shook her head, seriously, and paced.  "Not yet, first you will have to answer some questions, then I'll determine if you're excused. If you deserve my daughter."

   "Yes, maam."

   "So, no more stalling.  Tell me about your mother."

   "Uh, I don't know what to say.  What about her?"

   "Would you say she's bossy?  Does she mete out the discipline in your family?"

   "Oh no, she left."

   "Your parents are divorced?" I nodded, "I thought you're a good christian," she sneered, "From a good christian family."

   "I," didn't know what to say, "I try to be.  My family, well.  My father, was born again.  After she left, he told me that he didn't want me making the same mistake.  He never remarried, he found solace in God, and the church."

   "Huh!" I risked a look up, but she seemed to be thinking.  "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter how you got to the same conclusion, bu.  He told you, how to treat a woman?"

   "With respect?" I nodded.

   "What does that mean to you?  Respect, how do you respect my daughter?"

   "I," looked back at her, "I love her.  With all my heart." She smiled, sweetly.

   "Look at me." I tore my eyes away, but just that smile.  It gave me a little strength.  I was so glad she was here, to remind me what I was going through all of this for.  Whom, she was worth it.  Anything would be worth the chance to be with her, but first I had to face Her.  her Mother.  "Good," looking back at her.  "He's obedient."

   "Yeah.  He's just a little nervous." Defending me like that, she gave me some strength.  I just wished she could sit with me, instead of standing by the door.  Hold my hand, and lend me more of that strength.

   "That's what she needs from you.  Not some quaint antiquated notion like Respect.  We respect property, is she your property?"

   "No maam."

   "Of course not, she's a person.  A beautiful young lady, has he pleased you?"

   "No, mom."

   "In what way?"

   "He's just.  Huh!  If anything, he's just too slow.  I want him to, touch me, and give me pleasure, but still he resists."

   "Obedience.  That's what my girls need, what she demands of you, not denying her needs out of your stupid misguided notion of Respect.  That's how your father lost her, why your mother left him, because he didn't satisfy her."

   "Snh!" I started to cry.

   "Huh!  He is handsome." I looked up, "Humble." More like humiliated, "I suppose I can see what you see in him."

   I looked up, but she had, unbuttoned her blouse.  Not completely, but from the collar down.  At dinner she had it fastened tight at her neck, but while I was weeping, she must have let her hair down, and undone the top buttons on her blouse.

   "So was that.  What was his name, that first boy?"


   "Yes, Dale.  He couln't handle it."

   "At least he fucked me."

   I was just so shocked, I could gasp, but nothing more.  My mouth tried to work, but I was so choked up, nothing came out.

   "Hihihihihn!" I normally so loved her laugh, making her laugh, and hearing her happiness spill out like the peals of a church bell, but now it was spoiled, ruined by the betrayal.  I had though she was a virgin, I would be her first, but "You didn't ask." She looked at her nails.  Turned them over, and curled them up, studied them, insead of looking at me.  "He was a lousy lay, anyway.  It hurt a little, but then he was done, and left me to fend for myself."

   "Uh?" I managed a hurt grunt.



   We waited, listening quietly.

   "Are you listening?  Huh!  Judith, go get your father."

   "Yes, mother."

   She stood up, and I heard the doors.  Open, and close quietly.  The latch return to it's place with a muffled click, then a rustle.  Of fabric, I kept my head down, but caught her untucking her blouse, through my tear streaked eyes.

   A board squeeked, behind me, then weight on another.  Higher, and another as she quietly made herway upstairs.

   "The only thing you have to worry about respecting in this family is her wishes."

   As her fingers moved up, the center line of her blouse.  The buttons, it was quiet.  As if there was no one else in the house, in the whole world, I was alone, all alone with her.  "Mrs.  Gallagher?"

   "Call me Edith." She turned, and sat down.

   "Yes, maam." Crossed her legs, but her blouse was open.  I avoided, looking at her.  Her chest, exposed within, even wondering that I had never seen any hint of a bra underneath.  Even as her hands made it all the way up, to the buttons she'd undone earlyier, but I looked away.

   "Sh," she took my head, "It's all right, my dear boy." Held it, and turned my chin.  Felt her fingers through my hair, and pulling me down.  "You have a lot of potential," she patted my head, "You just have t learn, to please a woman, if you're going to live up to my daughter's
expectations. Go on, it's all right.  Kiss them.  Feel them, you like tits, don't you son?"

   "Mh!" I couldn't breathe.

   "Huh!  Maybe you're not right for her." She pushed me back, "She's right, you're too dickless.  I'm sorry, you're going to have to go home."

   "No!" I don't want to lose her.

   "Oh!" she smiled, "A little fight left in you?" I lowered my eyes, let my head hang, and shook it.

   "Then please me.  Show me that you can please her.  My daughter, Judith.  Prove to me that you deserve her."

   "What if she sees us?" She could come back, any time with her father.  Her husband, and I could lose her forever.

   "Come on in."

   I jumped, backed away from the couch, and her mother.  Blouse hanging open, and the braless breasts I had just had my face in half exposed.

   The door opened.  "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Judith." I fell down, at her feet.

   "Huh!" she smiled, down at me.

   "What for?"

   "She made me." I turned away, from her.  On the couch, I couldn't even bring myself to look.  "Your mother;" I choked up.

   "Of course she did!" My shoulders tensed at her laugh.  "This is how we do it, in My family.  Dale couldn't take it, he pussed out.  You're not going to puss out, are you?" I looked up at her, speechless.


   "Yes dear?"

   "Show him, what is expected of men, in our family."

   "Yes, dear."

   He got down, at her feet, and she held up one.  The one she had crossed over, she stuck out.  From her knee to point the toe of her shoe under his chin.

   "Come here."

   Judith had sat down.  Crossed her legs, but pointed with her toes.


   "Yes, Judith."

   I had no idea what I was in for.

   "I'm so sorry," I sobbed, "I didn't know."

   "It's all right," she sighed, and rolled her eyes.  "Now, make it up to me."

   "How?" I would do anything.

   "Take off my shoe, and kiss my foot."

   "Yes, Judith."]



Just for reference, "Lance" is the alias of Alfred.  You know, the Power Assertive "Alpha Male" who's led to believe he leads the pack?  Yeah, so he's cast as the father, to humiliate him for bukkakeing her in the teacher's lavatory earlier.  If you care about who's who, it should get easier to guess from pathological notes (why they're stereotypical profiles like PAMN) than linquistic differences.  Like indenting paragraphs/double spacing so the teacher can write in between the lines, or being an intellectual sadist that overwrites everything.

The boyfriend is, of course, the boyfriend/sex slave.  Edgar.


[Judith (F/M f/m Femdom Orgy)

   "Huh!" Christian boys.  Got to love them.  All they are taught, to be obedient to God.  Makes it easy, to teach them worship.

   They already know, just a little misguided.

   He just has to learn, that I am a jealous Goddess.  "I can be merciful." I slipped my toes out, and wiggled them, "Forgive you, if you earn it."

   "Oh yes, I'll do anything."

   "I know you will, but I thought I told you to kiss it."


   I kicked him.

   "Shut up, and kiss it, NOW."

   He choked up, nodded, and bent obediently to his duty.  His worship, he is so cute.  "Huh!  Suck my toes."

   "Mh, swh?"

   "Suck them, yeah, get all of them." I wiggled them in my mouth.

   I ignored them, my folks.  Quiet on the couch, but I'd seen it.  She taught me first, well, first him.  My father, the sex slave, then she told me how to find one.  Of my very own, not a man.  Not yet, a little boy.  A scared little boy to make Mine.  I always wanted a love like that, like this.  Unconditional worship.

   I felt like a princess.  Before, but not like the other girls.  I'm not like them, the other girls growing up with their heads full of fairy tales. Of prince charming, waiting, being beautiful, and hoping some day to be rescued.  Swept off her feet, and taken away to live hapilly ever after.

   That's not whow I was raised, to wannabe a princess.  I was raised to be a Queen.  Some day fill the role of Goddess.  Not priestess, no princess, divine.  Worshiped, like this.

   "That's enough.  Get started on my leg."

   "Yes, JudmphH!" I pushed my toes into his mouth.

   "Don't say it, do it.  You don't have to tell me, don't yes Judith me, Obey me.  Now, or be punished."

   "Smq, huh!"

   "Yeah, that's better.  Lick it, staste my sweat, as you sucked it between my toes.  It's been a long day, and I need a cat back.  Lick it, every inch of my leg, don't miss a spot, or you will be punished.  Don't say a word, or I will dismiss you.  Send you away, with your tail between
your legs.  Alone, forever without me.  To cry, and kill yourself, without me."

   He was really getting into it!

   "Hihihihn!" I picked it up, set my heel on his back.  "Get the bottom.  Just turn your head, that' right." He had to twist his neck, painfully I hoped, and plant one on my calf.  "Lick it, suck the sweat out of there."

   "Lhn, hluh?" Swirling his tongue delightfully behind my knee, I couldn't help another giggle, but finally I was doing it!  "Hihihihn!" It doesn't ticklish, it didn't tickle, it's just that after all these years, finally I was getting what I always wanted.  What I always saw in my father, the
abject unconditional love I always deserved, to be treated as a goddess, like my mother.

   "Huh!  Higher!" And it's so sexy, "Come up here," I felt my hot thigh, "Kiss it, lick it, suck the sweat from between my legs, yes!  Oh yes!  Huh!" His mouth felt delicious on the inside of my thigh, but I uncrossed them.  "Now," pushing my skirt back down.  Between my legs since it rode up in his face.  "Get the other one.  That's right, work your way back down. I have another foot you know.  My other toes, don't want them to feel left out, but take your time.  Get my whole leg, every inch.  Don't neglect a single square inch, or lose me forever, you understand?"

   "Mh, sphbp!"

   My father's cock, popped out of mother's mouth, swelling even as her cheeks snapped back out from sucking him so hard.

   "Ngh!" He squirmed, holding his hands under his back.  Layed out on the couch for him to take him, mount him, fuck him, and hold her hands over him mouth.  "MH MHHH!" Eyes wide, but watching her.  Staring at her eyes, even closed.  Clenched, but looking for a sign.  Any sign of her pleasure, satisfaction at his meagre efforts to please her.

   "Don't look at them, look at me!" I grabbed his face.  "There is no one else but me.  Got it?" Stood up.

   "Mhm!" Good, he just nodded, obediently, silently.

   "Good, then lift my skirt." He smiled, and obeyed.  "Don't touch me, just kiss them.  My panties, kiss them good, but don't touch me.  You don't touch me, unless I say, stick your nose in there.  Deeper, huh!" I rubbed it in, "Nh, huh!  Yeah!  Now bite them, my panties.  Pull them out with your teeth, and suck them.  Suck the juce out of my panties, yeah!  Smell that?  Taste it, taste my cunt on my panies, yeah!"


   The stopped.  Fucking on the couch, and looked.  At me, watched me take my boy, and make him Mine.  My mother, even smiled a little.

   "Hahn!" I forced his face in there, "Yrh!" Humped his nose in hard, "Huh! Fuck, yeah!" Even with my eyes clenched itght, I could remember her eyes, the approval in them, and her smile.  She even nodded, to tell me I was doing it.

   I was finally doing it.

   "HhHhHhHhH!" I pushed him back, and sat down.  "Hhooh!  Ohhhhhn!" Let my head fall back, my hair hang off, behind the chair, that that wasn't caught behind my neck, and shoulders, but I didn't care.

   "Hmh!" I rubbed my thighs.  "HhhhhH!"

   She was right, of course.  It does make it so much better.  I tried to imagine, masturbating, but it never felt like this.  It was just a dream, a fantasy until now.  That's why I never got off like this.  "Huh!" I pulled his arms.  "Come here, come to me, kiss me.  My man.  It's okay." Really crying, "You did it.  You finally did it.  Thank god, you passed.  Hihehaha! Oh, my darling you did so good, you pleased me so much!  You can stay.  You can be mine."

   I had hoped, but it wasn't until that moment, I could be sure that he was the one.]


Helen (Fb Mole)

   "Were's your mom?"

   "Your one of her students?"

   "No," giggle "It's summer, silly." And she quit teaching.  "But she's helping me get into high school."

   "Your in High School?"

   "No, it's summer.  I'm gonna be a freshman, next year." But at least I don't have to do summer school this year.

   "She's writing."

   "Oh, so we better not disturb her.  Come on, you want to go play?"

   "Yeah!  I don't know any high school kids."

   "Uh!" I just told him!  "Well," Twice, "Where do you hang out around here?" Not my neighborhood, but really nice.  Big yards, and beautiful houses, like his.  Her husband must make a lot of money, but she doesn't want me to hang out, around her family.  I giggled.


   "Oh, nothing." Probably cause our little secret.  "What do you like to play?" She don't wanna get caught, like I can't keep a secret.

   "I don't know, stuff?"

   "Well, my favorite game is fashion show."

   "Sounds like a girl game."

   "Nu uh, boys can play too.  There's boy models, and there beautiful, like you."

   "Ngh!" He just laughed.

   "You are pretty, you know."

   "Boys aren't pretty!"

   "Why not?"

   "It's gay."

   "Nu uh, lots of girls like pretty boys.  Like Brad Pitt."

   "Justin Bieber?"

   "Yeah, he's real pretty, and all the girls love him."

   "Yeah, my sister really likes him." Well, maybe I'll talk to her later.

   "So the boys hate him, and call him gay.  It's not gay, they just say that, cause there jealous."

   "You really think I'm pretty?"

   "Yeah, you look so much like your mom." Only with short hair, I just tousled a little.  Not to mention young, and a boy.  "Huh!"

   "Your prettier."

   "Yeah?" I thought, "Well, it's just cause you don't know how to show your beauty.  Here." I squatted down.  "There's lots of ways to show off beauty.  First have a look at your face." I looked for my mirror.

   "If your not in school, how cum you always got a backpack?"

   "I don't like purses?" I found it, "Here." unwrapped it to show him.  "See?" He looked, but shook his head.  "The first secret is to look pretty, you have to feel pretty.  Do you?"

   "Yeah," he guessed, "A little."

   "Well, the prettier you feel, the more beautiful you'll look.  You got a girlfriend?"

   He laughed, "No."

   "Well, let me show you how to feel pretty, and find a girlfriend.  You like girls, right?  Yeah, well girls like confidence.  Not boys that feel ashamed of being pretty.  So, you know any girls you like?"

   "Well, I like you."

   "Yeah," play hard to get, "But I'm too old for you.  I'm almost in high school." But I don't really like kids my age, there ugly, and they don't know how to have fun.  He looked down, and covered his mouth.  "What?"

   "Where's your underwear?"

   "I don't like it." He didn't look away, though, and I was starting to warm up.  "Did your momma ever tell you not to look at girls underpants?" He just nodded, but his hands slowly sank down from his mouth.  "Well, boys can't look at my panties if I don't wear none," I giggled.  so they can see me.  "You ever seen a girl naked?" He shook his head.  "Well, I'll show you, but you have to take your clothes off, too.  Fair's fair." I stood up, "Come on," too his hand, "I'll show you, and it'll make you feel real pretty."

   I thought she'd be like one of them smothering moms.  You know, cause of how she treats the kids in her classes, but it turns out she ignores her kids, which is a real shame.  Kids need love, to feel their beauty, and there not gonna learn that from other boys.  Boys make up stupid stuff, like pretty boys are gay, or it's sissy, cause there jealous.  That's why I like kids there age, it ain't to late to learn this stuff, and nobody else is gonna teach him.  Ironic, cause his mom was a teacher.  She even says Pay Attention!  I guess it's easier said than done.

   I always could see this stuff, I don't know why nobody else does.  So, I guess that's my duty, my mission is to show the world all the hidden beauty. So they can stop hating, and being so ugly to everyone.  It's slow going, cause I have to show everyone one at a time, but I'm young, and I got years and years.  Also, it helps to use media, like word of mouth.  I show one person, and they can tell there friends.  Then they can grow up, and show thousands.  So anyway, that's my plan, that's how I'm gonna change the world.

   "Here," I stop, and pull up my dress.  "Well, get it out.  I want to see it.  Fair's fair, and I bet it's really pretty too." That's how you make them feel beautiful, you tell them enough, and they finally start to believe it.  "Oh!" It's not even hard!  "You play with yourself?" He just
stared, and shook his head.  "Here," I sat on my back pack, "Let me show you, it's easy." I don't wear bras neither.  My boobs aren't big and saggy, but he don't mind.  "You can touch them, if you like.  Nh!  Yeah, feel them real good." There, I pulled it out, and it starts swelling.  It's cute, but he's too little to cum for real.  Too bad, but I can show him how, for when he gets older.

   "Yeah," just put down my dress to lay on, "Just keep on doing that." He got the hang of it.  "Hh, yeah!" I feel so hot, and fat.  A little damp, but with him watching me, and beating off.  "Just keep doing that until you feel beautiful." But I have to lick my fingers real good.  To rub them in my hot fat snatch.  "Hhn, yeah!" Switch fingers to lick them, and put them down there wet.

   I don't know what's wrong with me, but it takes a lot.  It really helps to have such a cute little boy watching me, and beating off, but I feel homesick, too.  I mean, it's okay, but I miss my friends, and especially Frank.  It's a shame they took him to jail, I told them it wasn't like that, he didn't make me do anything, and it was all my idea.  But I guess they don't care that I was taking pictures of him, and they even took my pictures away, but that ain't helping.  They should've sent me to jail.  "Yeah!" I bet there's all kinds of girls in training school, nasty girls, and I can get my finger in.  All those nasty girls, I bet they'd love it when I tell them I'm in for child porn, or even better.

   Hate it.  Hate me so much they wait to get me alone, gang up, and rape me.  "Nh!" Yeah.  Slap my tits, and ass, and face, and force me down, and tear off my uniform.  Force all these things in me, and I have to pull it out so the juice can squirt out.

   "Hehehah!" Blink.  Oh yeah.

   "Nh!" Rub it in, I'm nice and wet now, and it's running down.  So, I can put my hip up and reach back.  They wouldn't stop there, of course not.  "Come here.  Down here, yeah.  Mh!"

   It's little, such a cute little thing, but guys lie.  They say you need a big one, or girls care about how big it is.  Well, some girls, believe that I guess, but I don't need a big one.  Just a finger in my butt, and another in my dripping snatch.  And a cute little boy dick to suck on.
Yeah, I'll be all right here, I just need more friends.

   Now I just need to slap it in good and hard, so it hits my fresh shaved snatch, and stabs in and out hard, and wiggle the finger in my ass.  "Neah!" He starts beating it again, but now it's nice and wet with his spit. "Unh!" Some more squirts out on my leg for me to wipe up, and sniff, and taste my cum.  "Uhohohoh!" But now my asshole feels so much better, so I do that.

   He giggled again, "You like it in your butt!"

   "Nhn!" I sat up.  "You want to try it?"

   "I don't know."

   "Hiheah!  You'll like it.  Oh, it's not gay, see?  I'm a girl, it's not gay if you do it with a girl, and look how wet and slippery my fingers are.  You're so pretty, it made me so hot, and wet, and cum for you.  And ooh, you got such a pretty little ass.  Come here, let me kiss it for you.

   "Heheaha!" He squirms, "It tickles!"

   "Hold still," I dip some of my juice out with my pinky.  "Bend over a little, and relax."

   "Nh!" Just a little, but I wiggle it in some more, and pull it out.  "Ngh!" It puckered, so I kissed it again, and swirled my tongue around in there.  It's so nasty, but he's so young it's just white.  Not even a little pink, and tight, and wet, so I just swirl my tongue around in there
some more.

   "There, that wasn't too bad, was it?"

   "No," he rubs his cheeks, "Nh!  That was really nice, I like it.  Do it again!"

   Yeah, everyone likes it, they're just scared that it's dirty, or gay.  But it feels good, it always feels good or your doing it wrong, and when they're this young, they can feel this better then their cute little dicks. And besides, even when they start coming, they stop like that's it, but
that doesn't have to be it.  Not if you know what you're doing, and I can do this for hours.  I love it, making him feel good like this, but I try my pinky again, and he's nice and loose.


   "Ah ah ahah!"

   He likes it!  He can't keep it up, but he doesn't have to.  His bald little ball bag is so tight it wrinkles, and feels really good when I rub that, like my pussy when it's all hot, and fat, and wet.  So, I finger some more juice out, and it's so fun, I stop a moment to sit back, and slap till
I squirt.  "Neah!" Shake my fingers back and forth so it squirts real far like piss.

   "Uh, can you finger my butt some more?"

   "Yeah." He loves it.

   "Nh, oh, oh oh ohohohohoahhHH!" Now my fingers are nice and slippery, so I can rub his ball bag, and that makes it even better.  And his butt until it gets nice and shiny, then I have to finger more out, so he rolls over. On his back, so I get up on my knees, and he can look up.

   "Hnnnneahneahneahneah!" It squirts right away, so I shake my fingers real quick, and it runs down my legs, and I cum all over him.  All over his cute little beautiful boy body.  "Hhuh!" I thought, I liked getting facials, but now I rub it all over my face.  "Hheah!" I thought I wouldn't like it, cause I'm straight, and other girls always smelled bad when they get stinky, but I guess it's like smelling your own fart.  I like mine, and rub it all over my body.  My little breast bumps, they don't even boob, but my nipples are so swullen they ache, but I'm satisfied.


   Luke (bG Ince)

   She said if I had any friends, I can show them, but I don't have any girl friends, and I'm not gay.  But I went home, and I was so stinky from it.  "Where were you?" My sister stopped me, "And ewe, what've you been getting into?" She sniffed.  "What is that."

   "Hihin!" I went downstairs, so mom wouldn't hear us up in her office.  But she followed me,

   "Lucian, what is it?"

   "You know that girl, mom's tutoring?" Since she quit her job.  "It's her sex."

   "No," she covered her mouth, "She had sex with you?"

   "Nhn!" She shut the door.

   "No, you're lying."

   "Yeah, huh!  She peed it all over me, like pee, but it's not pee.  It came out of her sex.  We didn't have sex, really." I think, "I mean, she played with herself, and." I remember, but I don't tell her that.  I just squeeze my but, "And, and she.  She sucked on it."

   "Really?" I nodded, "She's a slut.  I heard she's a slut, but I never thought she'd do it with my little brother."

   "She said I'm beautiful."

   "Your not, you ugly little shrimp."

   "Yeah huh!  I'm pretty, and there's nothing wrong with it!  Your pretty too, so why can't I be pretty?"

   "Your a boy."

   "So?  Boys can be pretty to.  Fair's fair, I'm pretty just like Justin Beiber."

   "Nuh uh, your not that pretty!"

   "Well, maybe not, but I'm pretty," I pointed, "You just said it!"

   "Okay, maybe a little, but leave him out of it."

   "Well, he is out of it.  I know you love him and all, but he doesn't even know you exist.  You're never gonna get with him, never in a million years, and he's probably got a hundred girlfriends lined up in front of you."

   "Your so mean!" She pushed me.

   "Yeah, well.  You're pretty!"

   "What?  Don't say." Wait.  "Uh, you really think so?"

   "Yeah," what did she say, "It must run in our family, cause you look so much like mom.  Only younger, and prettier," and she started blushing.

   "Your just saying that."

   She was right!  I felt pretty, and it worked!  Girls really do like confidence, and boys that feel pretty, so we can show how beautiful we are, instead of hiding it cause mean old boys say were ugly.  "No, girls just call you ugly," I heard it, "Cause there jealous.  Like you called her a
slut, because she likes sex, when there's nothing wrong with it.  Everyone likes sex, they just call you slut cause there jealous."

   "They don't call me slut."

   "No, they call you ugly, because your beautiful, and they hate that.  Come on," there's a shower in the downstairs bathroom.  "Let me show you."


   "Well, I got to wash all this off," it was really starting to stink, "But I saw how she done it," and even felt it in my butt, but I don't want to tell her about that.  "So, I think I can show you, how to feel beautiful."

   I shut the door, but she seen me naked before.  She's my sister, we don't walk around naked all the time, but I known her all my life, and she seen me naked.  She used to help change my diapers, and everything.  "She told me, the secret to beauty is feeling pretty." I tapped her chest, "On the inside.  You play with yourself?"

   "Luke!" She covered her mouth, and giggled.

   "It's all right.  Girls do it too." She told me, "There's nothing wrong with it, they just say there is, but there lying."

   "Well, she is really beautiful."

   "Well, that's her secret, she told me.  Um," I have to remember, "She said a lot, but.  You know, makeup, right?"

   "Uh huh?"

   "Yeah, well she doesn't wear it, because it covers up the real thing.  Like blush, your blushing, and that makes you even more beautiful." I just kicked my clothes in the corner, cause there's no hamper.  Or soap, or shampoo, we don't really even use it unless we're watching TV down in the den, or the grandparents come over for Christmas, so there's really just toilet paper, and a lot of stuff we're not using for storage.  I rinsed off, "Hand me that blanket." Cause there's no towels, neither, and I don't want to send her up to get some.

   "You know, you do look a little prettier, now."

   "I know, right?  She told me, she called it confidence." Justin Beiber's got a lot of it, but she doesn't want me to talk about it.  "Take your clothes off."

   "I already had a shower."

   "No, not to get clean, to get sexy.  She showed me, so I can show you, and then you can show your friends."

   "Hihihn, what?"

   "Beauty.  That's what we're talking about, uh!"

   She just covered herself, didn't even take anything off.

   "It's not like I never seen you naked either, why're you so shy all of a sudden?"

   "I'm not, I just feel a little weird, is all."

   "Well, that's normal, but weird how?"

   "Well, you know." I shook my head, "Like I do when I think about boys.  But not like you' because you're a little boy, and you're my brother!"

   "Yeah, I know.  So, you don't have to worry about falling in love or anything.  I love you, you're my sister, but that means we're not going to be like, boyfriend, and girlfriend.  So, I can show you, and make you feel beautiful, and there's nothing wrong with it.  Come on." In the spare room.  I took the blanket off, and put it on the bed.  "Lay down, and relax."


   "You are beautiful.  So beautiful, the other girls feel ugly." And make her feel ugly, "They are ugly, compared to you, you're the most beautiful girl in the whole school."

   "No, Ellen is."

   "Yeah, okay." She's right, "So next to Ellen, but you know, she doesn't call you ugly or anything, right?"

   "No, she doesn't really talk to me."

   "Yeah, because mom doesn't want her to, but she told me." Yeah, "She told me you're the prettiest."

   "No, she is."

   "Yeah, but she doesn't see it.  Look, you can't see yourself, from there." I pointed at her eyes, "So she can't either, but she can see you, and tell me you're the prettiest.  Not counting herself, and besides she's going to highschool, anyway.."

   "Oh," she smiled, "She really said that?"

   No, "Yeah," I nodded, "And she showed me, how to feel it on the inside, so I can show you."

   "Is that why she did it with you?"

   "I told you, we didn't do it, we just fooled around, and played with ourselves." Then she put her finger in my butt.  "But you feel beautiful now, right?"

   "Yeah," she smiled.

   "I can see it.  So, let me show you."

   "Okay," she unbuttoned her shirt.

   "You got more boobs."

   "Yeah, she's really skinny."

   "Yeah, and she doesn't have no hairs." She does, I saw them before.

   "She shaves them," She nodded.

   "You don't?"

   "No, that's.  Slutty."

   "So, there's nothing wrong with that.  Now, lay back, and relax."

   In her underwear, I rubbed her legs like I saw her do.  "There, doesn't that feel nice?"


   "Snh!" She didn't smell, as much.  I could smell it, but even in the guest room, it wasn't as much as Astrid, out in the open.

   "I feel hot."

   "And wet?" She said I was so pretty, it made her hot and wet.

   "Mh?" She had her eyes closed, though.  "I don't know."

   "Well feel it." I took her hand, and put it between her legs.  But I kept looking at her boobs.  I seen them, I noticed, but it's not like I looked at my sister, before.  Not like that, she's my sister, but she showed me.  "It helps, if I.  If you feel your chest too." But she was rubbing her panties.  She doesn't wear underwear, she lied about it, but it was funny, and I think it was a joke, "So, I'm going to rub your chest a little."

   "Luke!" She looked.

   "See?" I pointed down, "I'm not even getting hard."I don't even know why, "Relax, okay?" but she's my sister.  "I'm just going to help you, feel beautiful." I touched one, but she let me.  "There," even squeezed it a little.  "Doesn't that feel nice?" Maybe now she won't be so mean.

   "Mhm?" Her fingers started moving, on her panties again.

   "Good," I really liked, just squeezing her boob.  "Just think about boys."

   "Huh!" Her lips got really big, and red, too.  Just like lipstick, like she said.

   "Well," I let go, "I'm gonna go." I was getting hard again, and she's my sister.  But she didn't stop, so I looked back, and she was pulling her panties out.  To feel inside, so I closed the door.  I guess I can play with myself, if I don't think about her, cause she's my sister.  Another
girl then, with more boobs than Ellen.

   I like boobs, and she doesn't really have any.  A little, but not enough, so I get out the underwear ads, and look at them in my room.


   Helen  (fG...)

   "Hey," he was waiting down the stairs.

   "What do you want?" It was a mistake, and now he probably had a crush on me.

   "Uhm, I was talking to my sister, and I was wondering, if you can talk to her."

   "About what?"

   "Beauty.  I told her, but I think she really needs to hear it from you."

   "Oh, is she gay?"

   "No," he scratched his head, "I don't think so.  She likes Justin Beiber, but the other girls, they call her ugly, and make fun of her, and made her feel ugly.

   "Really?" I shook my head, "She's not." At all.

   "Yeah, I told her that.  And." He looked down, "That you said she was the prettiest girl in school."


   "I know, you are, but.  I just thought, she needed to hear it, and it would really help if you told her."

   "Okay," it's true.  I mean, maybe not the prettiest girl in school, but after me.  "Where is she?"

   "Probably down in the guest room."

   "In the basement?"

   "Yeah, across the hall from the stairs."

   "Okay." So, I went down.

   "Uh!" Bieber, though?  I mean, he's all right, but his music really sucks.


   'Vette (Gf Bi)

   I don't know, maybe I'm into girls too, but ever since Luke told me boys can be pretty, and there's nothing wrong with it, I have to admit, I like pretty boys.  Now, watching her stop, I never thought about it, but she's really pretty more like a boy than a girl.  She doesn't act like a girl, I mean other than being into fashion, but.  "I thought you didn't wear underwear?" And, she's a senior, I don't know any seniors, and she's so popular.  Even if all the other girls say she's a slut.

   "Not all the time." She shook her head.  "I don't really like it, but it looks good."

   "Yeah," she's even got a, well, it's not a boyish body either.  But she's so tall, and, thin, and flat chested, she doesn't need a bra, but "It looks amazing on you." And matches the lace around her hips to hold up her stockings.  And she's tall, and looks hard.  I mean, she doesn't have a penis, but I don't even ever really think about penises.  I never seen Justin's, just his body, but she's got a flat tummy, and it ripples when she turns her hips, and spins them around and round.  Up and down, but back and forth too, then she turns around, and her butt flexes under her panties while she keeps doing that, until she turns all the way around.

   And feels up her hips, and tummy to her bra, and her back curves back so her butt sticks out, and her hair hangs behind her with her neck stretched out, and her chin pointing up at the ceiling.

   "Uh!" I close my eyes, but the picture of her, standing like that, it's just like a picture I took with my brain, and projected up on my eyelids. I don't have to see it, or look at her, I just have to close my eyes.  "Hhhhhhn!" I wet myself, a little.  Or my fingers, I can feel it soak
between them, and I don't even have to rub them in, just pulled them tight, and squeeze them with my legs, to make them stop shaking, but they don't.

   "HihHhHhH!" It keeps popping out in my fingers.  I don't even know what it is, my cherry, maybe?  But I even feel my butthole tighten, and relax, and I love how it pushes on my fingers, and sucks back, then pushes again.

   "Hih hih hin, hihn.  Hihhhn!" I start catching my breath, so I can breathe deeper, but I squirted a little.  Just like Lucian said, when he told me what she did.  She came on him, all over him, so he stank when he got home, and ever since I smelled that, I started thinking.  Maybe.  But "yeah," now I know for sure.  "I'm totally bisexual."

   "Good," she picked up her dress, and held it up.  Turned it around, then slipped her hands in it to pull it on.

   "Huh!" I got up, "You think I could, feel your body?" It looks so hard, and long, and, sexy!

   "Maybe some other time," she opened the door, and grabbed her backpack.  "I have to go, I have a date, and I'm already late."

   "With your Boyfriend?" I turned off the radio.

   "NO, my.  Well, she's not really my girlfriend, but she's bisexual too.  Huh!  It's, hard to explain."

   "Well," I didn't know there were more, "Can I come with you?" Then again, I just now decided I'm bisexual, so I didn't think about it.

   "Yeah, come on."

   "Mom!" I called up the stairs, "I'm going out!"

   "Be back before dark." She looked out of her office, but Ellen was by the door, so she didn't see her.  "And put some clothes on first."

   I giggled, "Well, I wasn't going, naked!" I went up to my room.

   "I'll meet you out front," she left, but came back with her car.

   "Hm," I just looked at my clothes, and felt between my legs.  Swiped some out, and smelled it.  I licked it, between my fingers, and grinned.  Figuring I might get to lick the real thing, soon.  But better not keep her waiting, so I grabbed something, and made sure it matched.



Sorry for any confusion, but "Selene" Helen, Ellen...  All fantasy versions of the same character.  Sin D's daughter, Wynona, who's dissociative (Again, sorry for the confusion) and becoming more than a little Goth.  Meanwhile Helen serially linebangs her teacher's whole family.  Basically Cuckholding her with her kids, before moving on to her Husband.  Also, Lucian's real name is Lucas, but you can probably guess what Wynnie's favorite movie was from the allusions.
« Last Edit: September 25, 2017, 04:00:50 PM by Psiberzerker »

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Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #6 on: September 25, 2017, 10:14:35 AM »
Lucy  (Ff Saph Fant.  Pseudosaphism, neither one is gay, but Consensual role-play.  Just not going to put it in that sub-directory, or lesbian rape...)

"I know what you want, Stacy."  I touched her chin.  Raised her pretty young face to look up at me.  Her young innocent eyes going wide, the sweet glossy smile on her lips.  "I see you looking at me.  How hot you get watching me, in class?"

She looked down, nodded.

"Here, let's get this makeup off."  

She sat down, while I pulled a jar of cold cream out, and closed the drawer.  Fresh faced, and clean from washing off my own.  Trying to hide my feelings for her, in return, but.  "Huh!  You're so pretty.  You don't need makeup."

She looked up.  "I started wearing it for you."

"I thought so."  Tore off a paper towel for her, and held it out.  She took it but I couldn't look at her.

With the cold white cream, smeared all over her face.

"Huh!"  I shook my head in my hands.  Wiped my face, but it didn't cum off.  My hands shook, but I swallowed my.  

"Uh!"  I looked back.

"Oh!"  All thought of "What happened?"  It just flew out of my mind as soon as I saw it.  The bruise, she wore makeup to conceal.  It wasn't swollen at all, I never had any idea.  "Did your father?"

"No, my boyfriend."  She looked down.  Took a breath.  "Huh!  I fell down."

"Now, Stacy.  Don't protect him.  He's not beating you, is he?"

She shook her head, but shrugged.  "We were just, getting.  Pretty rough.  On the dresser, so I fell off, and hit my head on my desk."  She nodded.  "He'd never hurt me, he loves me."

"Edgar?"  I guessed.  She looked up, but didn't say anything.  To confirm, or deny it, but.  "I thought so."

Her face changed.  "I've never been with a woman before."  I looked back over at the desk.

My desk, I sat behind all day.  Thinking about.

Her, "Stacy?"  No, her.


Not.  My.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Well?  I was always, curious.  I saw how you looked at me too."  Her legs relaxed.  Her knees spreading apart on my desk.  As they had under hers.  When I was doing the roll, but this.

This was another role.

"I've never been with a girl before, either."  I touched her chin again.  Raised it, and gently caressed her cheek.  She winced, anyway.  "Still tender?"  Must be a few days old, it's even starting to turn green around the edges.  She nodded, her big blew eyes fluttering, then staying closed.

Around the knuckles, she must have fallen on someone's fist, but I kissed it first.  Then she turned to brush my lips with her's.

I have to do something.

And she's willing.



Switching to fantasy, co-written after the fact, so better and better the more times they tell it.  For example, rather than a middle school teacher, she's:

[The Lolipop Principal

   I got caught, playing with my lolipop.  I told the girls, don't tell, we can get in trouble, but someone tattled.  The principle said no, I'm not in trouble, but she's "Concerned." Because I play with the other girls, "but all the girls play."

   "Yes, but these games, some of the games, I hear you play are naughty."

   "I'm sorry." I know, she told me.  And I told the girls to keep the secret.  "Who told?"

   "That's not important," it is to me.  "but what is important is where you learned to play, like that." Who can't keep a secret?

   "Like what?"

   "They said you touched them, in bad places."

   "I'm sorry.  I know we're not supposed to go down there," but there's no grownups.

   "Yes, it's very dangerous, but."

   "Nobody got hurt."

   "Yes, but that's not the point.  Did you go down there to take their clothes off?"

   I shrugged.

   "She said you offered her candy, if she took her underpants off."

   "Who said?"

   "This isn't about her, but I have to assess whether you're a threat to the other girls."

   "I didn't hurt her." If I do, they don't want to play, so I didn't at this school.  And it was an accident, it was just once, and I never did again.  She cried, and I was sorry.

   "Did you play this, with other girls?"

   "Uh uh?"

   "Then, by process of elimination, you should know who we're talking about."

   "Was it Candy?"

   "Candace?" She wrote something down.  I covered my mouth.

   "Mmh." Shook my head, "Her real name's not candy, it's just pretend."

   "Well, okay.  Now, where did you learn to play, these games?"

   "A friend."

   "Is your friend a man?" No, "A girlfriend?" I nodded.  "An older girl, or a grownup?"

   "Mommy." Mahrime'.

   "Your mother?"

   "No, not my mommy.  A mommy, she's not my real mom, she's a friend.  But she said I could call her mommy." For pretend.

   "And did she give you candy?"


   "To take off your clothes?"

   "Uh uh?"

   "Did she touch you?"

   "Uh uh."

   "Then how did you learn to touch the other girls?"

   "Well, she maybe touched me, a little.  But it didn't hurt, it's fun."

   "It's not fun, it's."

   "No, it's fun!  I wouldn't play it if it wasn't." I like it.

   "Yes, of course, but it's also bad."

   "Nu uh!"

   "Yes it is, it's very bad behavior."

   "I knew it, I am in trouble, you lied!"

   "Now, don't turn this on me, calm down."

   "No!  You lied!  And your mean, for lying!  That's bad."

   "Well, you lied."

   "Nu uh?"

   "Yes, you lied about your friend touching you.  And about touching the other girls."

   "You touched me.  You took away my lolipop."

   "Yes, but that was to protect the girls, not harm them."

   "I didn't hurt them, they like it!"

   "Yes, but it's still bad behaviour."

   "You said I'm not in trouble."

   "I know, dear.  But I have to protect the students."


   "It's my job."

   "Yeahbut, you don't have to protect them from me, I don't hurt them."

   "Yes, but sexual play is not."

   "It's not sex." It's pretend.

   So, I covered my face, and opened my eyes, and poked them.  To cry, and see if that works.  "Mh!" It hurt, "Mhmhimhin!"

   "Oh dear.  I know this is difficult for you."

   "You hurt them."

   "Now, don't."

   "No!  You spank them, and they hate it, and I hate you, your mean!" She made me miss recess, and she says I'm bad, and hurt the girls, and lied, and now I'm really crying.

   "Oh, dear." She picked me up.  "Shsh.  Settle down now."

   She's a grownup.  She's got boobs.  None of the other girls got boobs, there little.  And she took my lolipop away.


   "Feel better?"

   I shook my head, "Can I have my lolipop back?" I lied.  I did feel better.  In her lap, she sat down, so I can sit on her lap, and snuggle her boobs.  I don't have another lolipop, to play with, but I want to.  Play with my lolipop now.  It feels good, and her boobs feel good.  "I'll be good."

   "Well, I'm sorry, but that was thrown out."

   "Do you have another?"

   "Let me see," she leaned over, but she just had suckers in her desk.  "Here, what color do you like?"

   "Nhmhm!" I like lolipops!  Not stupid flat suckers, they suck.  You can't do anything with them.  Well, "A green one." They're not as good as like a tootsie roll pop, I can't stick it in, but I can squeeze it.  Get nice and sticky.  Or a candy cane, those are fun too, and the peppermint tingles, but she don't got none.  It's not Christmas.  "Himn!" But, I guess it'll do.  I'm hot, my clothes feel hot, "Can I go," play with my sucker?

   "Now," she held it back, "Can you tell me who touched you?"

   "Hihihm, I don't want it that bad."

   "Your friend.  You call mommy, she doesn't touch the other girls, too?"

   I shrugged.  "Not here." But her boobs.  I leaned back, sighed.  In her lap, maybe I don't have to go.  Just yet.  "Back home."

   "Oh!" I'm new here, but I made lots of friends!

   "My teacher." I nodded.

   "Your old teacher, at your old school?"

   "She was nice." They buzz, when she talks.  I like that, and she holds onto me too.  I like her arm around me, too.  Even though it's hot.  In her lap.  I don't need the lolipop.  She can't make me tell, like that.

   "Where did she touch you?"

   "You know." I blushed.

   "Did she touch your shoulder?"

   I nodded.

   "Your head?"

   "Oh yes!" When she was nice and sweet.

   "Your back?"

   "Yes." Just like this.

   "Your bottom?" I squirmed.

   "Huh?" I was really hot, and sleepy now, but I like it.

   I like her, too.  She's mean, but she has great boobs.

   "Kelly, did she take your clothes off, and touch you down there?"

   "Down where?"

   "In your underwear."

   "Uh uh?" I didn't have any.  She's confusing, though, and she lies.  I wonder, "Can you keep a secret?"

   "Of course, dear." She lied, she's trying to make me tell, to get her in trouble.  I'm not stupid.

   "I like it."

   "Well!" she put me down.  "Uh, Kelly." She was red, too.  I nodded, "I assume you wouldn't continue the behavior if you didn't." She looked embarrassed.

   "You touched me." I grinned.

   "No, I.  You're crying.  I was just trying to make you feel better."

   "You did," I touched her knees, "I feel way way better." Rubbed her legs. "Now."

   "Stop that," she pushed my hands off.


   "It's inappropriate."

   "Yeah." I felt down, where she couldn't push them off.  "But you like it too."

   "No, I told you to stop!" She rolled back.

   "Shhhh!" I followed her, "You want them to catch you like this?"

   She stood up.  "Young lady!"

   "You think they'll believe you or me?" Fine.  "You lied.  So, I can lie too."

   "You wouldn't!"

   "You like to spank the girls."

   "Some girls need discipline."

   "Yes, but you Like.  Spanking girls."

   "I don't know what you're talking about.  You." She pointed, "Don't know what you're talking about."

   "I think you do." She backed up.  "Know, what I'm talking about." I don't like, spanking.  It hurts, and makes me cry.  But, she wants to stop me.  She can't stop me.  "If you get in trouble, I don't think they would let you off, with just a spanking." I think they call it reverse psychology, if I say I like spanking, maybe she won't do it.  In the corner, she can't push me away.  Too hard, or she hurts me, and gets in trouble.  "You can lose your job." She told me.  "Go to jail, if they thought.  You're touching the girls, or you like to spank us." So, I felt her legs some more.  "So," up her skirt, "I can lie, and tell them you touch me." I looked up, "Or, I can lie, and say you didn't." In between her legs.  Not all the way up, just inside her legs.  "It's okay, it doesn't hurt like spanking.  I don't hurt girls."

   She bit her lip!

   "I make them feel good."

   "Oh!" She turned, "No, stop it.  Don't!"

   "Okay!" I stopped.

   "You won't.  You wouldn't."

   I nodded.

   "I told you the deal.  I'm going to lie about you, now.  If you touch me, I won't tell.  But if you don't, I will."

   "That's blackmail!"

   "Oh," I shrugged.  "Okay.  Or, I can go play with the girls." I really rather like grownups, they have boobs.  But, "You want to protect the students, right?"

   "That's not what I ment."

   "Well, I want to play." I pouted, "I like you, and if we can't be friends, then I have to go out, and make friends." I giggled, "I'll need that sucker, though."

   "I can't." But she wants to.  "I have work to do."

   "I know." she left the sucker on her desk.  "So," I unwrapped it.  "I'm gonna be good.  The rest of the day.  Pop!" Why they're called Lolipops.  "So I can come back, after school.  For another sucker."

   "Go back to class."

   She just has to think about it.

   I did.  A lot.


   Principal (FG Fant NS)

   "Hh!" I thought she was a bad influence, I had no idea.

   She was, a lesbian.  I think.  I'm not, I have a husband, and 3 wonderful children.

   I love kids, devoted my life to them, but not like that.  I'm not a pedophile, a child molester.

   But her voice, echoed in my head.  1 question:


   You know, I didn't have a good answer?

   I have the answers, because it's wrong.  "Why?" Because it corrupts little children.

   I can't corrupt her.  I feel as if she's trying to corrupt me.

   "No," she is.  She's trying to seduce me, she cried to get in my lap, and for a moment, I.


   "You like it."

   No no no, of course not.  I just held her, and she stopped crying, and I felt better because she felt better, that's all it was.

   But then she touched my legs.  My knees, and my calves, and my thighs!


   I didn't ask, if she touched her legs.

   "Oh!" I need to call her old school, how silly of me.  She can keep a secret.


   "Pinewood Elementary, how may I direct your call?"

   "Yes, is this the front office?  Yes, this is principal Caruthers over at Westbrook.  I recently received a student of yours, and she has been.  HhuhH!  Ahem!" I coughed, and swallowed, "Acting out.  When I asked about it, she admitted some inappropriate contact with one of her teachers."


   "I believe so," she didn't say the school, but there weren't any others in her records.

   "What kind of contact?"

   I covered the earpeice.  "Sexual contact."

   "You better speak with our principal."

   "Yes, that would probably be be best."

   It was nothing.  I just.  "No," it was nothing.


   "No, not you.  Go ahead and put them on the line."

   I'll wait...

   "He's busy at the moment, can I have him call you back?"

   "Yes, of course.  My number."

   "We have caller ID.  I'll have him call you at the first opportunity, but I have another call."

   "All right."

   "Would you like to hold or."

   "No." I just hung up, "Huh!" and sat back.

   But.  I never, have been, tempted before.  That's not good.  Why am I even thinking about her, when she threatened me, and molested the other girls, and lied to me, and threatened me.

   She threatened me!  With a sex-scandal, more of an ultimatum.  If I don't she'll say I did, but does she have enough influence, over the other girls, to create other false allegations?  Yes, 1 girl, I may be able to explain, especially if I report the threat beforehand, and I have plenty of witnesses to vouch for me.

   Except, I've seen this happen, so many times before.  Why, I have been teaching for 20 some-odd years, it wouldn't be the first allegation, at this school.  I've never been accused before, but.  I know child molesters. I've met, dealt with, and talked to them.

   And what do they say?  "She came onto me." Yeah right, buddy.  She did, but, "Huh!" What can I say, that I haven't heard before, from real child molesters, and am I really seriously considering this, to keep it under wraps?

   There's no reason to hide it, there's nothing to hide, she made a pass at me, and I put her off, but she said "I'll come back, for another sucker."

   No, she said "I'll be good." The rest of the day, and took the one I gave her.  Why did I even do that?  It's supposed to be a reward, for doing good.  Not molesting the other girls, lying, threatening, and sexually assaulting me!  She sexually assaulted me, and I gave her a sucker?  That doesn't look good, not to mention the fact that she uses the candy, to lure the other girls.

   It's a game to her, but she's playing around with my life here!  My whole life, I've dedicated to the children, and this is my reward?  It's not thankless enough God, you have to send this child to tempt me?

   Why am I even tempted?  I'm not a pedophile, I'm not just saying that because I'm a pedophile and they make excuses I'm.  NOT.  A pedophile.

   Then why am I tempted?  I tried, to think about something else.  The lies, the threats, the other students, even going to the police, expelling her, and hopefully getting her the help she needs.

   But, I'm lying to myself.  "Huh!" I'm tempted, for once in my life, I've been teaching for decades, dealt with victims before, and why am I tempted? Why can't I get the thought out of my head, the feeling of her in my lap, the green sucker slipping out, and the way she licked her lips?

   "Uhn!" Damn it!  It's wrong, I've held countless kids in my lap, and never felt, any of this.  I don't even know what this is, but I feel it.  She got so hot, and made me feel uncomfortable, but then she touched my legs, and her small body against my chest, crying, and the green sucker slipping out her lips so she can lick the sweet sticky.

   "Damn it!" Pick up the phone, "What is it?"

   "Call from a." SHe checked, "Principal Smithers at Pinewood Elementary?"

   "Thank you Gladys." I took a deep breath, "Put him through." Line 2 flashed, so I hit that.  "Yes?"

   One thing's for sure, she knows how to get what she wants.


   Candace (gF...)

   "Yes, Mrs.  Caruthers?"

   "You know Sandy?"

   "In my class?" I shook my head, "She's new."

   "Yes, but do you play with her?"

   "Well yeah.  She's in my class."

   "She didn't take you down, to the boiler room to play, has she?"

   "Oh, no." We're not supposed to go down there, but the door got busted.  Then they fixed it, so we can't go down there no more.

   "Does she ever play with a sucker, or lolipop?"

   "Oh." I mean, "No." So that's what this is all about.

   "It's all right.  You're not in any trouble, but if she did anything, that made you uncomfortable, you can trust me."

   "Well," It kind of was, "Huh!  Okay, maybe we played, a little, but not down there."


   "After school.  We played after school, but I didn't like it, so it was just once."

   "What didn't you like?"

   "She made fun of my name."


   "Candace!  It's Candace, but she called me Candy, and said it was sweet."

   "You don't like that."

   "No, it's stupid, and the other kids make fun of me."

   "Is that all?"

   "Well, you said uncomfortable." She nodded.  "It felt, kind of sticky."

   "The candy." I winced.  "I'm sorry, did she have anything, like that?"

   "No, but.  We went to the store, and I didn't have any money, but she said it's okay, 'I won't tell'."

   "I told you, you're not in any trouble, but did she pressure you, to steal?"

   "Mhm?  I didn't want to but she stole some suckers, and she gave me one, and said it was sweet.  She called me sweet, like candy, and she.  Nhm!"

   "It's all right, take your time."

   "She put it, in my mouth.  A lolipop, and she.  She licked my lips, and said, 'See'?"

   "She didn't stop there."

   "No, she.  She told me, she said, she had.  Sweeter.  Lips."

   "Did she show you?"

   "She made me kiss her."

   "Kiss her where?"

   "In the park."

   "On the mouth?"


   "Anywhwere else, on your body?"

   "She touched my neck, with her lolipop.  She said, 'oops!  Now your sticky there', and she.  She licked it off."

   "And this made you uncomfortable."

   "No, it was fun.  She made me laugh, and we tickled, and played, and it was fun.  Then, I went home, and I felt uncomfortable."


   "It was sticky."

   "Where she touched you with the lolipop?" I nodded.  "On the neck?" I shook my head.  "Somewhere else?T"

   "She touched my.  My legs."

   "And that made you uncomfortable."

   "No, she licked it off."

   "Where did it feel uncomfortable?"


   "Inside, your.  Underpants?"

   I nodded.

   "Inside your lips?"

   "And in my butt."

   "She touched your butt."

   "And she licked it."

   "And that made you feel uncomfortable."

   "No, it made me feel good.  Then, it was sticky, and uncomfortable.  So, I took a bath."


   Principal (Fg...)

   "Where'd you get the balloon?" Big and yellow, with a smiley face.

   She shrugged, "My mommy." Pulled it down.

   "She stopped bye?"

   "No, left it for me."

   "Well, where'd you get the Helium from?" On school property.

   "Hydrogen, actually.  WH!" Stopped in the hall, she just held her breath. Tucked the deflated rubber in her clutch.

   "Is that safe?"

   She nodded.  "If you know how.  See?"


   She giggled, "No helium voice." Cartoonish high pitch.

   "Hihah?" Then, back at my office, "Here you are." She just looked at it.

   Frowned, "I didn't come back for the candy." Then sighed, and headded for the door, empty handed.

   "Sandy?" She stopped.

   "Huh!  I prefer Cassy."

   "Okay, Cassy." Short for Cassandra.  "I spoke with Candace, and she called you Sandy."

   She shut the door.  "Oh," locked it.  "What did she tell you?"

   Went back to the chair.  "That you played with her, after school."

   "Just once."

   "Is that why you thought she told on you?"

   "She didn't want to play again, after that."

   "She said you touched her, sexually.  And that it made her uncomfortable." Well, sticky.  Honestly, she seemed more bothered about that, afterwards than the sex.  Ual.  Abuse.  Molestation.

   Shake my head, "She didn't seem to mind, I didn't know."

   "It's okay.  No, it's not okay, it's wrong, but is that why you went by Sandy, and called her Candy?"

   "Hihn, yeah.  That rhymes."

   "But you actually prefer Cassy."


   "Why do you do it?  Do you actually derive some sexual pleasure from it?"

   "Idunno.  It's fun?  It's my favorite game, but I don't really care about the candy."

   "That's the lure." She's a child molestor, she learned from a child molestor, so she used the same line.  "Good, that's progress."

   "Is that it?"

   "For today, why?" She's not thinking about following through with her threat.

   "Huh!  I told you, I like you.  I don't really like, little girls."

   "But you are a little girl." A child molestor, at 7.  "And if you don't like it, then why do you do it?" Thought I'd seen it all, bye now.

   "Well, to make friends." She is new here, "And I like the taste."

   "The candy?" I thought she said.

   "No, pussy."


   "I'm sorry, but we can't talk about it if I can't use the right word."

   "That's not the right word, it's a vagina."

   She made a face, giggled, "Vagina." Frowned, "I like pussy."

   "So, you think you're a lesbian?"

   "Yeahbut, girl pussy.  Sorry.  'Vagina.' It's not the same, they don't, got anything in it.  Really, and they barely get hot."

   She did, remarcable how red, and breathless she got, sitting in my lap.  "Huh!" But she's 7!  2nd grade, and she's trying to seduce me.

   No, let's be honest.  I know, it's been a few years, but I remember what it feels like.

   She's seducing me, and "I'm flattered, but.  Seducing 2nd graders is not a proper way to make friends."

   "I know, I'll stop.  I stopped, all ready.  I was good all day?"

   "Is that how you got sent to my office?"

   "Yeahbut, that was yesterday?" Her victim had said it was a few days ago, and again I'm struck by how little either of them seem to be traumatised by it.  "Uh!  I just need someone.  More like you.  You're older, and so much sexier than a little girl."

   "Now, you can stop that right now." Because it's working.  "Hm.  Ahem. I spoke to miss Gardner, as well." She looked up.  Yup!  "I had all afternon, and despite your efforts at subterfuge, I was able to find her." In a few hours.  I looked at my nails.  "She hasn't confessed anything.  Yet." Buffed the edges on my lapel.  "Huh." Blew a little lint off one, and pulled out my drawer.

   Looked up.  She was speechless.  "Uh?" For once.  Good.  You want to play, little girl?  I got out my emery board.  "You had no right!"

   "I have every right, I'm a school administrator, it's my job.  Now, you're saying something earlier about reporting me?" I will not be blackmailed by 2nd graders in my own school!

   She cried.

   "Yes, I'm older, and Experienced." That's the difference, "For instance, you're not the first child I've had to deal with, who enjoyed spanking."

   "Snh!" She looked up, smiled a little.

   "Here.  Have a tissue." I pushed over the box.  "Now, I do believe Candy would be willing to tell someone, what you did to her.  If it comes down to a you say I say testimonial.  I'm also known, here.  I have been working at this school for quite some time, the children know I can be tough, but fair, and I am duty bound to protect them.  This morning, when you came to see me, I asked if you were a threat, to my charges."

   "No, Mrs.  Caruthers."

   "Oh," I got up.  "There there." Sat on my desk, but pulled up under her arms.  "Up." I will not be blackmailed for sex by a 2nd grader.  I just had to give it some thought.  "You've been good," I felt her skinny little legs. Through her skirt, but she settled back against my breasts.  Again. I think that's how she did it before.  Even before she touched my legs.  "Like this?  Relax." She held them, tightly together, but I felt them relax. Even spread a little so that her skirt folded down.

   Between her thighs, with my fingers.  "Mrs.  Caruthers."

   "Yes, Cassy?"

   "What are you doing?"

   "Making sure you don't harm any of my children."

   She turned, looked up at me.  Face, and eyes still wet with her tears, but I stopped.  Feeling her lap, and just let my fingers rest.

   Between her thighs.

   And kissed her.

   "Oh." She smiled, looked in my eyes.  So, I took a tissue, and dried her face.

   "Would you like a ride home?"

   "Yes," she sniffed, "Very much."

   She's missing more than just the half bicuspid, you could see.  In the front, growing in, but still working on most of her molars.

   "Come along, then.  Grab your things."

   Gave Gladys the keys to lock up, when she's done.  Extremely capable, older woman.  She's been here longer than I, and thought nothing of it.  Fortunately, nothing had left my office, yet.  But I waited until we were well out, in the parking lot.  Nice afternoon.

   "My husband, hasn't been very affectionate with me, for quite some time."


   "As they get older, about middle age, they tend to start experiencing trouble, in that department.  I thought, that's all it was." At my car, I let her in, and went around to my side.

   "You have kids."

   "Yes, 3." I leaned over, "Let me help you, buckle up." Booster-base.  With 3 of them, we finally splurged with my son, another on the way, it was a better investment to get the one that converts for multiple stages of development, rather than keep buying them every few years.


   "You made me think.  Thank you, by the way," I kissed her head.  "Comfy?"

   "Yes miss."

   "Missy, out of the office there's no need to be so formal."

   "Yes, missy."

   "Good." I pulled the door, started the motor, and pulled out in reverse.  Shifted once I'd pulled around, and drove off the the ramp.

   Normally one of the last to leave, but she's not the first I've had to deal with personally.  I've never, even desired to, sexually before.

   "My oldest daughter was thirteen, or 14, at the time."


   "I didn't think about it, for years, but then he started paying more attention to her, then her sister, when she started growing up."

   "Om!" She covered her mouth.  "He didn't."

   "No," I shook my head, "I don't think so," but I'll have to talk to the girls to make sure.  "Huh!  I suppose, subconsciously I was jealous, and protective.  In retrospect I didn't give him much of a chance to." but.  "Huh!  You're right, I should probably make sure."

   "Mrs.  Caruthers?"


   "No, Mrs.  Caruthers."


   I looked over at her, "I think I love you."

   "That's nice, however it's a little too soon, to decide something like that.  You're so young, and we're veritable strangers, but." I patted her knee.  "I like you too."

   "Hmh!" She just closed her eyes, and let her head back.  Sighed again, but the light changed, so I continued driving.

   "About the same age when, we started being physically intimate.  In school, he was like my friend, then my best friend.  Eventually that grew into something more.  I love him, I still do, and I never felt anything for anyone else before."

   "Before me?"

   "Yes," I admit, "I'm starting to feel something for you."

   "Good, I'm glad.  Me too."

   "Good." I nodded.

   "Um, I don't live this way." I know, her address.

   "Well, do you need to go straight home, or do you have a little time this afternoon?"

   "Oh yes!  I want to stay with you."

   "Well, I can't take you home, either.  My family," I don't really want her, to get involved with my family.  "Okay, listen a moment.  This is important.  Huh!  My husband, is older.  Retired now, all but the youngest is off to college, but I.  I was young, too young, to get married, have children, though I can appreciate them growing up, and starting their lives while I'm still relatively young.  My eldest, she had behavioral problems, and I believe it was seeing the same behaviors in you that finally let me see the truth."

   "He molested you."

   "Yes." I stopped, talking a moment.  Just drove, but got used to that. Hearing that, then said it out loud.  "He molested me." I think, I believe, I'd like to at least hope that I was able to protect my daughters, but.

   "Huh!  I don't know." I should probably be doing that, instead of driving out to park with a 2nd grader, but I really need someone to talk to.  "Now, I know, you can keep a secret."

   "Oh, I won't tell."

   "Of course not," she's a child molestor, and it just now dawned on me, "I'm not!  A pedophile.  I think, I may be, attracted to you."

   "Hihn!  Yeah, I think so too!" She laughed out loud.

   "Hahaha, yeah.  I ment that plurally, child molestors.  Huh!  I don't know why, but I felt it before.  Just put it out of my mind, but this afternoon, I flashed back to the last one.  The last time, I had to deal with this sort of thing in my school, but after I fired his ass, and sent him to jail.  Huh?  I still remember, all the boys, crying, and tell all the horrible things he did, and made them do."

   The hair stuck up on the back of my head.  And my arms, my hands, I looked down at the gooseflesh, and shivered.  "HhHhH!" Wiped my face.  "WHfph!" Shook my head, "Huh!"

   "Wow, that really turns you on."

   "I know."


   "I haven't the foggiest idea." But I have to admit, there's something extra special about a little girl, doing it in second grade.  "Have you been, doing it long?"

   "Since kindergarten."

   "Makes sense, kindergarten teacher."

   "If you're good, you get a lolly." she nodded, "If you're bad, you get a spanking."

   So obviously, she was both.  "HhHhH!" I wiped the corner of my mouth, licked it, and put my shaking hand back on the wheel.  "You're right," no body else understands me, "I liked, spanking." Like her.  "The children." Sometimes better than myself.  "I enjoyed it." Ever since that boy in 6th grade.  He liked it, "So, I had to stop.  That." It's inappropriate.  "I don't believe it's all that effective, anyway." I just kept on, justifying it, because I enjoyed it too much.

   "You're scaring me a little, now."

   "Oh sorry."

   "It's okay, just stop."

   "All right." Just don't think about it.  You're good at that, aren't you? "Yes."


   "Never mind."


   Cassandra (Look it up.)

   Grownups.  Worked on Mrs.  Sweets (Not her real name) too.  The thing is that they don't think we're capable of it, so they don't believe it.  They underestimate you, and over estimate themselves, because they do the math:

   Well, she started teaching right out of high school, and that was over 20 years ago, so she's about 40.  I was born 7 years ago, therefore 40>7, and she's right.

   Wrong, but she doesn't know all the factors.  Let's just say that I was born 7 years ago, last.  And leave it at that, I'll offer no further explanation, but what sucks about it is having nobody to gloat to about it.

   "I told you so."

   Yeah, but she didn't believe me.  Denial, the breakfast of champions.

   "About the spankings?"

   "Yeah," sure.  That, that's all I was talking about.  She's a romantic, took me to the makeout spot.  I haven't been up here in over a decade, but she doesn't remember me.  We didn't really hang out, back then.  Rivalry, with my mother, if I remember right.  "Huh!" I remember her husband better.

   Charming, not all that good looking, which helped him hide it better.  You know, being an ephebophile?  Yeah, he brought her up here, his favorite spot, but he just didn't quit, when he graduated High School.

   My father.  My mother just didn't keep him, he finally found a woman that would.


   Golly, but she's turned on.  In what?  Look up, 5 hours, 27 minutes, and 40, 41, 42...

   "Smq!" Mmh, "MWOLolilol!" She doesn't wear makeup.  Lipstick, or need it. Young looking, of course.  Not young looking enough, any more.  Not with teenage girls in the house, and their friends.

   Of course he didn't he couldn't under her watchful eye, but the girls, had friends.  Come over, the cool dad.  Lets them curse, smoke, drink, if they happen to pass out...

   "Hwal!" Straddling her lap.  Facing now, so I can kiss her, feel her breasts.  Still pretty perky!  From what I can tell, through her blouse, her bra, funny how the subconscious works.

   She knows what he's like.  What he likes, she just doesn't have to think about it.  So, she held onto it, even into her 40s.  I bet she still shaves, for him.  Even if he doesn't get into her panties any more, but I don't remember her, like this.  Just my mom, and how he liked to touch her.

   My ass.  She feels it, through my skirt.  Pulls it back over my hips, and thighs, then rubs it up my split lap.

   Yeah, she knows how to do this.  Even if she didn't lie, never done it before, or even thought about it consciously.  She knows what to do, she remembers.  She's just not used to being the molester.

   I am.  That's another one of those things, like a dum-dum.  Most people, look at a lolipop, and they don't think about what else it can be used for. They don't talk about it, or think about it, which is why most people don't even know what an Ephebophile is.  She just says Child Molestor, even though she was a teen.  Likewise, if anyone drives up, we can stop.  I can hop back in my seat, before they even come around the bend, and pull up at the top of the hill.

   Nice view, facing west, in a few hours we can watch the sun set over the town, but that's when it gets busy.  Highschoolers, mostly.  They can't go home, because their parents might not aprove, but if they catch us.

   They won't think, I'm molesting her.  Of course, with her pulling down my underpants, under my skirt.

   "Uh!" Blink.  Sit down, sideways real quick so I can slip them down.  To my knees, her hand goes right back to my lap.  Back up my skirt, but she strokes my lap.  My thighs a few times.  Deeper, and deeper, like a dick on the first penetration of a virgin.  You don't just go right in, all the way to the bottom.  Unless you believe the one about the cherry.  The barrier between a girl and a woman you have to break through.

   Rape.  Cultural rape.  I swear more girls get raped, on their wedding night if they save themselves, over that lie, than probably anything else. It's supposed to hurt, you're supposed to bleed, that's just how it is.  The first time.

   I'm not a virgin, but he's no cobbling schoolboy, neither.  That's why, I like older women.  Because she's going slow, building up, gently.  Because I'm a second grader, but she's gotten past her nervous hesitation, in record time.

   If you don't learn from History, you're doomed to repeat it.  What Jorge didn't say is that if you do, you can.  Especially if you're nominally too young to even know about it.  Remember her, when she was 12, and her husband, my father, a different mother not even born this Time.

   Raping me.

   Before they're married, of course.  But I don't miss him.  I missed her, but I'm glad I came back.


   'Vette {St: Van Halen - Hot for Teacher (1984}

   "Huh!" This was a bad idea.  However, what with all the kissing, and fondling, I had forgotten what it was like.  To be a little girl, no doubt because I didn't even think about anything like this until I was a teen.  But, she's 7.  Too young to even lubricate, just get very hot.  Her small hands, so tiny, they remind me, but it's hard to believe a 7 year old can be that good.  With her hands, in my blouse, unbuttoned, and pulling out of the cups of my bra.  I wiped my mouth, but she even shifted them back in place.

   As if she has any idea, how it feels to have a bra, and not be settled into it.  I thought to adjust it, but she just.  Did it, as if she heard me, or read my mind, then did it for me.

   My mouth felt so tired it wa numb.  "This was a bad idea." Like I'd just spent hours at the dentist, not kissing, but at least I can think clearly now.

   "You better take me home," she nodded, buttoning up my blouse.  Kissing me again, but when she finished, she went back to the booster seat.

   I didn't want to stop, knowing that means I need to.  "Yeah," I felt the keys, and started it up.  She shifted in her seat, and pulled her panties up.  "You mind if I put some music on?"

   "No, go ahead." Oldies station, and usual.  She hit the preset buttons, van Halen.  "Huh!" Shake my head, "That's fine." She giggled, "Buckle up."

   Dirt road, wow, 4:30?  Blink, shrug.  Not that I was paying attention, to the time, but.  I didn't think it was that long.

   "You smoke?" I shook my head.

   "Hihihn!" She handed it to me.  "No, just thought you might like one."

   I rolled down my window.  "And stay out of my purse!"

   "Sorry." She dropped my lighter back in.

   Got down to the road, signaled, looked left, right, turned back and took another drag.  Tapped it off on the window.

   The song changed, "Can you find something else?" Pulled out.


   "You don't like Gary Numan?"

   "Is that who that was?" I remember the song, hadn't heard it for years.

   "Well, I like this album," she reached out, in the seat, but.  "Uh!" Couldn't reach, so I hit the first preset.  "I'm afreud we're still Jung at heart." She giggled.

   "Well, you're seven,"

   "I know."

   Just have to remind myself, what I'm doing.  What I just did.

   "The Pleasure Principle.  Hiheha!  Oh, never mind."

   "Uh,"  Hit (1]


   [2] "Jesus,"




   "Uh!" [4]


   "All sounds the same today." [5)

   "Hahaha," she kicked, "Yeah."

   The Police, "Ah!  That's better."


   She coughed.

   "Sorry," I threw it out, but my hand shook, running it back up.  "So, where do you live?"

   "Take a left up here."

   "...You know how bad girls get." She picked up the next stanza, "Sometimes it's not so easy, to be the teacher's pet!"

   I just turned it off.

   "Sorry, I'll stop."

   "It's not your fault." The radio just had an ironic streak today.  "You know, apologizing like that is a sign of abuse."

   "Uh huh?" She kept kicking, "Jouissance." Her heels on the front of the seat, but stopping short of the dashboard, and glove box.

   "Beg pardon?"

   ""Don't worry about it.  Jock, La Con.  I thought Freud was a bit ironic, seeing as he talked about joy, but didn't seem to have any."

   "Sigmund Freud." Right, she said 'Afreuda,' thought it was a slip.  She's supposed to be ahead in reading, and writing, but "Psychoanalysis?"

   "Right, but then Jung, Skinner, Lacan..."

   "Oh yes, I got it."


   "The pun about, being Jung at heart." Just didn't laugh, "Haha, Afreud was a dead giveaway."

   "Well, one out of 3 ain't bad," she shrugged.

   "I don't remember Lacan very well."

   "Of course, Psychonanalysis is part of your job."

   "Yes, but modern, psychiatric theory.  We've moved on a lot since Freud."

   "Hahah!  Yeah.  But that's who came up with the Pleasure Principal.  Lacan added the Mirror Stage in the 50s."

   "Oh yes," now I remember, "But isn't that in infancy?"

   "Normally, but it supposedly Starts in the first year.  However, like any stage you can get stuck in it, or be retarded, going through it."

   "I don't like that word.  Say delayed."

   "All right, delayed then."

   "But you mean the point where you recognize that you can be seen, from outside your body, as with a mirror."

   "Yes, but there's the normal mirror stage, then there's what can happen afterwards, in later phases of development."

   "Where did you learn this?"

   "I'm still learning.  You're never done, science isn't so much about knowledge as putting a dent in ignorance, which is infinite."

   "Is that so?"

   "Yes, miss knowital.  Exactly, nobody knows it all, it's like forever, you can set out at whatever speed you want, but you'll never get there."

   "So, Knowlege is infinite."

   "No, we are FINE'ite.  Ignorance is endless, we're incapable of ever knowing everything, because everything else will never fit."

   "What's that have to do with the Mirror Stage?"

   "Well, one way you can get stuck in it is Narcissism."

   "Are you saying I am a narcissist?"

   "Again, not absolutely.  Narcissus was a myth.  Not a real person.  The modern myth is that narcissism makes you a Narcissist.  Like Freud said, we may have moved on from that early stage of knowledge, but the mind.  It's not like that, there are no absolutes, even the most self absorbed Malignant Narcissist, say the late President Elect still has subconscious perceived flaws and doubts.  That's what caused him to declare his greatness, the greatest, so great you get tired of winning so much.  To cover up his madness, sexual compulsions, and psychotic breakdown."

   "That why he killed himself?"

   "No, he was assassinated.  They just made it look like auto-erotic asphyxiation."

   "Who's they?"

   "Who else?  The Secret Service."

   "Hahah!" She's very creative, and imaginative.  Well, not necessarily for her age, 7 is right around the middle of when that's normal.  "Again, what's that got to do with the Mirror Stage?"

   "Narcissism needs a mirror, to reflect it back to you.  You can't see yourself, from there.  So, you normally use Empathy, to feel how other people see you."

   "I see." Nodding.

   "Narcissism means they can't.  Normally, so they need a better mirror.  The greatest mirror, like the spotlight, and the media."

   "Oh," makes sense.  "So, you're saying that Trump was such a loudmouth, and Celebrity, because he was a narcissist."

   "Gran mol Power Assertive Malignant Narcissist."

   "Like a schizophrenic?"

   "No, like a full tilt Diva.  ~T.  Stark.  Primadonald.  He made up what people thought of him, you saw some of his Tweets.  Even if you didn't follow him, because whenever he felt he wasn't getting enough attention, he could always tap that for an easy reliable fix."

   "Like an addict."

   "No, as an addict.  Not just for attention, but sex, power, money, whatever he could get to feed his self image.  Made the mirror so big, it crashed down, and crushed him when it shattered."

   "But then he would have killed himself." Got her!  "Not been assassinated."

   "No, he wasn't capable of that.  Auto-erotic asphyxia is a better cover story, except for the sex scandal."

   "But success killed him?"

   "No, that was his prize.  Or President Pence's.  Politics, especially for conservatives is about the long game.  He was stupid enough to think he won it for himself."

   "You know," I hit the radio, "On second thought let's listen to the radio."

   I turned it up.

The Game

   "There." That's better.

   At some point, well we listened to the whole song, quietly.  "Huh!" I turned it down, until it clicked off.  "I didn't know you lived so close."

   "I don't." She unhooked her belts, "But this is fine." She looked around, "I can get home from here." I pulled over to drop her off, and turned on my street.]



Continuity note:  Candy

Also, that character has some of the powers of Molinja, like changing the music on the radio to torture her with music she doesn't like, and settle on the Leitmotiff:  "Don't Stand So Close to Me"
« Last Edit: September 25, 2017, 01:49:17 PM by Psiberzerker »

  • Guest
Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #7 on: September 25, 2017, 11:59:28 AM »

From now on, we're basically talking about the fictionalized version of events they wrote down, with the names changed to protect the guilty.  For example, Xstacy, Cassandra/Candy, Anastasia, and so forth.  Also, quite often the Gender, for example Sin D/Cynthia/Daddy being rewritten as a male, because it's more believable that way.  (The myth that women aren't ephebophiles, much less do mothers fantasize about their own children, while molesting their students.  Plural.)

Also, a prime example of Multiple Choice Past.  Ask a pathological liar "What happened to you?" 100 times, you'll get 150 answers to justify being an Intellectual Abuser.  Repetition reflects not only recurring fetishism on my/the co-authors' parts, but also the same stories being retold, cut, shuffled together, and dealt out into new hands.


[Daddy's little Dyke

   "Story time!" Don't ask me why straight guys like lesbian porn.  I sat behind her bed.

   "See?" Single father, I love my daughter.  She's a lesbian, I don't hate her for that.

   "Dad, we read this one!" She can't read yet, but she remembered the pictures.  I licked my finger, and flipped the page.  So did she, but I can only assume that's what she's doing under the covers.

   "Ooh!" I stopped flipping.

   "You like her?"

   "Mhm!" She nodded, "She's pretty."

   "Which one?  This," the redhead, "Is Ashley, and this," the bottle-blond "Is.  Eu, Ewfrat."

   "Ewfrat, pretty name." Sounds like a fart to me, but this is for her benefit.  Someone to dream about, not hard on the eyes, though.

   "Pretty girl, too."

   "Hmn!" She blinked long, and nodded.

   "It says here she's 31," looks 19, "170 centimeters tall, and weighs 55 kilograms.  From Prague Czech Republic." I guess it explains the name, however you say it.

   "Huh!  Get to the action, daddy."

   "Oh!" I turned the page, "Looks like Ashley likes her too."

   "Hm!" She closed her eyes, "Nh, mh!" Licking her lips, and her fingers.  2, she sucks them, and her arm fluffs the covers between her tented legs.

   "It also says she likes little girls, just like you!" I bopped her nose with my fingertip.  "I just want to meet a good little girl, 6 years old, just missing her 2 front teeth.  With blonde hair, blue eyes, and cute little cheeks, bright and pink."

   "Nh, meah!"

   "Goodnight, sweety." I left the light on, and the magazine, in case she has trouble falling asleep.  "Pleasant dreams."

   "Nh, mh!"

   "Huh!" Out in the hall, I got it out, and raced her to the finish.  "HhH!" I bet I won.  Sure felt like I won, with it spilling out in my cupped palm.  "Huhl!  Slup, smwoq!  Hah!" I got it all, and wiped the spit off on my pajama pants.

   Of course, I would never think of touching her.  My beautiful little girl, she's gay.  I'd like to see her with that Eufrat, though.  Tall, skinny, and modelesque.  Young looking with just little cones of titties for her to suck on, fingers busy between her legs, and that nice neatly trimmed brown crop of pubic hair.

   That, and I'm not a child molestor.  I like them young, but not that young.  31, though, she just looks 19.  So, I don't have to buy her beer.  Maybe a strapon, and a little vibrator she can use, while she watches her daddy get fucked.

   I didn't say I wasn't sick.  I'm just not a child molestor, and even if I was, she's gay.  So, I wouldn't do that to her.  I love her too much.]


 ["Ivanka" (Alias)

   "Uh?" I just left, "DaAad?"


   "Uh!" I just untied my jacket, and put it on.

   "Wait up!"

   "Fuck off, Jeremy." So not in the mood.

   "Catch you later?"

   "Yeah, like never?"

   Boy next door, which means he had the hots for me, forever.  "Uh!" Boys.


   "Uh?" I turned.  "What do you know about boys?" Little girl, don't recognize her.

   "You'd be surprised." She grinned, "You dad let you go out, dressed like that?"

   "What?" I looked down, "Of course.  He bought me most of this." Well, not the jacket.  That was mom.

   "Well, if you dress for attention, you have to expect to get some."

   "Well, it's just hot."

   "Hah, yeah.  That explains the jacket." She put her hand up, "No, I get it.  It's too hot to wear too much, but you need the jacket to cover up, or if you're out late enough to need it."

   "How old are you?"

   "Nine, how old are you?"

   "Sixteen." I rolled my eyes.  "You new here?"

   She nodded, "This year, but I never been to this neighborhood before." She held out, the same hand.  "I'm Sandra."


   "That with an E, or a Y?"

   "Both, starts with a Y, ends in an E.  2 Ns."

   She nodded, "Just visiting a friend, but she had to get back to her family."

   "Oh yeah?"

   "Nice neighborhood."

   "I guess." Shrugged.

   "You got a car?"

   "A license."

   "Well, there anything to do around here?"

   "Not really."

   "Well," she pulled some money out of her backpack.  "Uh, I kinda got stranded, but if you can borrow one, I can make it worth your while." She pulled back a $10, before I can grab it.

   "Okay," nothing better to do.  Not like they kicked me out, but I didn't even make it to the end of the street.  "I'm right around the corner."

   "Ok, I'll wait here." She sat down.

   So, I went to ask mom.  "I'll put some gas in the tank."

   "Be safe."

   "I'm just gonna give a friend a ride, I'll bring it right back, from the gas station." A couple bucks should make her happy.  "She's kind of stuck, and she doesn't have a phone."

   "She could have used your's."

   "No minutes."

   "Why didn't you tell me?"

   "Just got home?" Well, she did, "Just give me the keys."

   "All right, but this is a test.  You know about boundries, if you want to stretch them,"

   "I know, mom.  I won't break it."

   You can take the teacher out of class, but she's worst right after work.
"See that you don't."

   BUMP!  The horn, pull up in park to throw the booster in the back seat.  Get out my tape adapter, and plug in my phone while she gets in, and buckles up.

   "Ooh, nice car!"

   "I guess."

   "Your dad has great taste."


   "He's a babe, too."

   "When did you see my dad?"

   "When he pulled in?" She laughed, "Unless there's 2 Sakhir Orange BMWs in this neighborhood."

   I shook my head.  "It's red."

   "Depends on the light."

   "Well, sometimes it looks orange, but it's still mostly red."

   "Suture self, but it's the only one on your street?"


   "Yeah, so your dad is a babe."

   "Thanks," I guess.

   "Why's it got a tape-deck?"

   "You can plug anything into it?  He had to have it done, custom, and he says nobody's going to break in to steal it."

   "Huh, smart too."

   "Well, thanks."

   "I'm sure you noticed."

   "My dad's hot?" I nodded.

   "Yeah, If I was your age, I'd bang him."

   "Okay?" She's like 7?

   "If he wasn't your dad."

   "I'd probably pepper-spray him." I LOLed.

   "Hahah!  Well, if he hit on you."


   "I'm sure he doesn't hit on teenagers."

   "He doesn't mean anything by it."

   "Ew!" She giggled, "Like your friends?"

   "Well, like you said.  He's a good looking guy, so they flirt.  It's annoying, but what're you gonna do?"

   "I'd get new friends, but that explains the outfit."

   "Uh?" I shake my head, "What do you mean?"

   "You know.  He buys you revealing clothes, hits on your friends, sexually harasses you."

   "No, he doesn't!"

   "Hihihn!  I've seen it before, lots of times."

   "In your 7 whole years."

   "Yeah, is that so hard to believe?  Oh right, we're supposed to be a sexual babydolls until we turn 18, then all of a sudden we're mature enough to smoke, and see boobs in a movie.  I didn't figure you're niave enough to swallow that one." She rolled her eyes.

   "Ha, no.  I knew plenty about sex when I was your age."

   "Yeah!  Still a virgin?"

   "Not that it's any of your business, but no."

   "When you're my age?"

   "Of course not!"

   "See?  Me neither.  So, there's no reason to shelter me."

   "Uh, I ment.  Not when I was.  Wait." Shake my head.

   "Try to keep it on the road, Nancy."



   "You're not a virgin?"

   "Well, I guess that depends on your definition, but I've had sex."

   "Yeah, with who?"

   "Your mom!" She stopped giggling, "Ow!"

   "Slut!" I laughed, she just rubbed her arm.  "No really."

   "No, really.  Right there."


   "Right there, in that seat.  After school.  Why do you think I didn't want to go to your house when you went to get your keys?"

   "Uh!  My mom's not gay?"

   "No, she's a child-molestor." Uh?  "Ow!  Quit it!"

   "Well, stop talking about my mom like that?"

   "Sorry, but it's true.  Why do you think she got home so late?  I never even saw your dad before.  She had the car today, right?"

   Wait.  "Yeah?" It's his day off.  "She usually drives the minivan?"

   "Uh?  How do you know that?"

   "Because, she's my Principal!  She gave me a ride home, and stopped by the bluffs on the way."

   "No way."

   "Ask her yourself.  I know she'll lie about it, but $10 bucks says you can see it on her face."

   "Oh yeah?"

   "How do you work this thing?" She hit eject.  "Ooh, I love this song!"

   It just beeped.

   "What song?" Sounded like a test.

   "Freak," She giggled, "But that's 3 Es.  Freeek." She shrugged, "I guess there playing it cause he just died."

   Ok, now the music was starting.  "Who?"

   "Oh, George Michael.  Hihihn!  They never play this one on the radio."


Yvette (Ff NS Lies.  No Videotape, either.)

   "Here," she tossed the keys, and they hit my purse.

   "Where's your friend live, Mars?"

   "Mom, not right now."

   "Stop right there, young lady, and drop the 'tude." I got up, once I set down my computer.

   "We had to talk."

   "You bet your sweet ass we have to talk."


   "Don't you,"

   "Don't you talk about my Sweet Ass, bad enough to hear that from Dad all the time, don't you start."

   "Oh," I can see she's upset, "I'm sorry dear, I just had a long day, and."

   "You had a long day?  Well, I just had to rescue a girl that got molested.  That's why I'm late."


   She looked at me, searched my face.

   "Oh, well." That's, "Is she okay?"

   She frowned.  "What?"

   "Nothing mom," she paced over to the couch, slumped down.

   "Well, did she say who it was?"

   "No?" She looked over.  Waved it off, "Not much, like a name, or anything."

   "Don't touch that." Snap!

   "I just Xed out google, can you stop interrogating me a minute?  I need the computer." She unplugged it.

   "Uh?  I was using it, and it's My computor."

   "Well, there wasn't any work on it, I need it for homework, and if I had a computer, I wouldn't have to use yours."

   "Now don't start on that, ag'."

   "Don't touch me!"

   I stopped.

   "I'm sorry." Her hands were really shaking.  "Mom, I just.  I'm a little freaked out right now, and I just need, to do something.  Think about something else, and this history report should help."

   "No, I'm sorry.  Go on."

   "Thanks.  Um, you seen any more car's like dad's in town?"


   "She said, it was just like dad's."

   "No, not that I've seen."

   "Well, that color, I'm sure you would have."

   "Haha, yeah.  What?" Why does she keep looking at me like that?

   "Do you know what color red that is?"

   "Yes," I helped him pick it out, it was an anniversary present.  I blinked, "It's called Sakhir orange.  That's kh, I believe."

   "Oh!" She blinked.


   "Nothing, I just always thought it was red with orange hilights."

   "No, technically it's vice'-versa."

   "Oh.  Thanks."

   "Hhuh!" I sat down.  She just carried it up stairs, but I managed to hold it in until I heard he door close.

   I knew it was a mistake, all a terrible mistake, but I had no idea.

   Why did I drop her off so close to home?  "Uhuhuhuhn!" I mean not even a block from here!  What's wrong with me?



Another change, a narcissist invariably exaggerates, as well as displacing her Covert Incest on her husband.  All those "DaAd!"s were, "MoOM!"  So, in the Fantasy, she also has a nicer car, as well as her more Powerful Position.  (Elementary Principal, instead of middleschool teacher.)  Not to mention changing the relative ages around.


[Mother (FG Solo NS)

   I heard her at the door.  My daughter Shannon is 13, and while I had seen her blossom into a beautiful young lady, I had not known that she had become sexual.  Until I heard the unmistakable moans, and sighs.  Why, I do believe she is masturbating, which only reminded me of the pleasures I had found with my young body.

   Alone, at night, not in the middle of the afternoon, but she had gotten quiet, so I just went to see if she was all right.  "Hahn!" My hairs stood out, but I listened closer, to hear her sigh followed by a moan.  "Ohhhh!"

   She is in there, alone, isn't she?  She hadn't invited one of the neighbor boys, that had been giving her so much attention lately, in to explore her breast bumps, and the small scattered hairs she'd started sprouting above her lips.  "Mhhhn!"

   Not my full 38 D cup bra, from nursing her, and working out.  To keep fit, lean long legs, strong thighs, and a tight rear.  The thick patch of pubic curls in my palm, and brushing my fingers, rolling against my thighs.  She has my looks, but it will take a while for her to develop her body.  They're already starting to notice, despite her shyness, those horrible baggy clothes, and would it hurt to wear a little color.  I'm sure it's just a phase, what do the cool kids call it?  Dressing for a funeral, and moping around, listening to that broody depressive rock she plays too loud.

   I told her about protection, but I should have gotten her some.  Boys these days can't be bothered, but she knows not to let them hurt her.  In their desperate rush to get inside her, past the barrier of her virginity, but I find myself more than a little damp.  Leaned against her door, my head against the jam, listening to her excited breaths, and straining to hear the gentle slaps.  The steady pats of her palm as her fingers slip faster between her damp lips.  "HhhhahH!" They slow.  "Nhm!"

   "HhHhH!" It wasn't until the ragged breath escaped I realized I was holding it.

   "Hihmn!" A sigh of satisfaction, then the bed squeaking.  I retreated before she got up, came to the door, and slipped my fingers from my steaming underpants.

   "Oh!" she blushed, but I took a couple steps, as if having just cum up the stairs.

   "Are you all right?" I went to her, felt her forehead, "You feel a little feverish." I could smell it, intensely aware of my own odor.

   "Fine, mom." she pushed my hand away.  "What about you?" She sniffed.

   Most of it was coming from her room, which she hadn't closed, but then I am fairly certain that she masturbated to orgasm in there, while I had merely felt inside.


   "Hm?" I shook my head, "No, fine.  What were you doing in there?"

   "Nothing?" She turned away, reached in for the door, which only fanned more of the unmistakable odor out.


   Shannon {f Solo}

   "Doesn't smell like nothing." She sniffed again.

   "Mom!" I pushed her, "God!" face burning.

   "Shannon!" She bounced off the wall, "Get back here!" But I was already gone.  Down the stairs, through the front door, slamming behind me.  I ran, and thought to grab my purse on the way out of my room.

   Thank god, I just couldn't face her.  Not then, after what I had been doing, with her eavesdropping through the door.  Like I didn't hear her, the thump, see the door knob switch, tight against the frame, from her leaning against it.

   Of course, that's how she could tell.  I didn't smell that much, but she touched me!


   At least I have my phone, head phones, I just had to get out of there, but I smelled it on her.  Her hand, and saw the heat on her face.

     It wasn't until I got to middle school, and read the handbook. "Anything that could be reasonably construed as a weapon." I scoffed.  What is this, a law school?

   I went for the dress code, to see what I could get away with.  Settled on Black, it's slimming, no makeup, jewelry, I'm not trying to attract attention here.  Yeah right, "Goth." They scoffed, at me.  Ironic!  Yeah, all right, whatever.  Not like I'm going to dye my hair, start cutting, but. I have to admit, they have some good music.  It suits my mood, especially right now.  So, Goth?  I guess there's worse things, but I can't stand those pretentious judgmental self absorbed bitches.

   "Huh!" I stopped, panting for breath, but got a good run out of it, at least.  The song started winding down, so I replayed it, on repeat, and locked the screen so it didn't go all nuts bouncing around in my purse.

   "Where was I?" It distracted me, momentarily, but.

   "Wrong!" echoed out.

   "Oh, right." Uh?  I don't want to think about it, yeah that'll work!

   It was the section on Sexual Harassment that made me say "Oh." To myself. A pervasive environment of sexual tension, like Middle School?  I should be a freshman next year, but my grades started slipping in 4th grade, when I started feeling weird.  In my body, bleeding, and especially in my chest.

   That's why I started wearing black.  It's a fashion statement.  "Don't look at me." Go ahead, call me Goth, scoff at me, and avoid me.  Fine with me, I'd rather be left alone anyway.  Most of the Dress Code seemed to be about not "Distracting" boys, and gang sign.  I don't want either, to be part of a clique, nor attract boy's attention.  They made fun of me too, and the teachers asked me about why I've been so depressed lately.

   Mom told them it was a "Phase." Yeah, mother.  It's called Puberty.

   Well, what do you do when your own mother sexually harasses you?

   "I see you're starting to grow up."

   "HhHhH!" Yeah, well kind of hard to miss when you stare at them so much.  Talk about them, all the time.  Buy me my first bra, thanks.  You know, I can figure out how to put it on myself, right?  It's so crowded in the changing room, because they're not designed for 2 people.  To the contrary, they're supposed to be private, so you can try things on with some privacy?  Yeah, look it up.  Privacy, that's totally a thing.  A normal thing, while you're at it, look up Normal, and inappropriate.

   One of the problem I found with Black is it's hot.  No mom, not like that, out in the sun?  At least those low cut tops, yellow to set off my eyes, and match my hair, they're cool.  Right?  "Uph!" So yeah, if you think I went Goth to be cool, try it some time.  In August.  It's not.

   It's distracting, when the boys do it, why do we get sent home for dressing "Provocatively," when they don't get sent home for staring, when it affects my grades, and what do I do about mom?  I can't get her sent home, okay send her to jail, that's a good plan!  How would I go about that, tell someone?  Yeah, that's totally a conversation I want to have, with her there to make excuses.  "She's imagining it," she never touched me. Okay, when she showed me how to put the bra on.

   "Huh!" I just sat down.

   Yeah, try not to think about that.  Try it, getting felt up, trapped in a changing room, with your mom, and her hands on it.  The bra, she didn't touch me, but the bra, and I couldn't get out.  "Nuhuhuhuhuhn!"

   Of course, she had to help me with it.  She was just checking to see if I was all right.

   Yeah, well.  Thanks mom, now I don't even want to think about sex.  That works.  Like I didn't just fiddle off thinking about Melissa.

   "Hhhhhh!" Wipe my eyes, "Snh!"

   I had the perfect chance, when she asked what I was doing.  Well, just what it sounded like, playing with myself.

   She cried, when I got home.  Late, I guess, I wasn't there when she showed up.  To hang out, of course she's younger than me.  Middle school? Yeah, I got held back, so my classmates are 10, or 11.

   Mom was gone.  She just left her, so I had to ask her what was wrong.



   Melissa (FG Molest)

   "You want to come in?" She sat me down on the couch.  Next to her, told me "My daughter has a lot of pretty friends, but I must say, you're the most beautiful of them all."

   She hugged me, and I felt weird, but she said "Relax." And "I know, all these feelings are confusing, it's a confusing time in your life, but there's ways to feel more comfortable with yourself."

   She touched me, first my leg, but then she said, "Take these." My chest, she felt up my top, and down from my shoulder.  "Do these ever feel achey, and hot?" I just nodded, but she said "When that happens, it really helps to massage them, like this.  Do they feel hot now?"

   "They're starting to," I admitted.

   "Feel hot?' she untucked my shirt, "Here, lets get this off, so you can cool off."

   "Where's Shannon?" I was hot, it was a hot day, and I ran most of the way to your house.

   "Don't worry about her, just pick up you arms.  There, feel better?" I shook my head, I knew it wasn't.  She wasn't supposed to be doing that, but I let her.  I wanted to say something, do something, but I didn't run.  I should have, but then I was topless, and as ashamed as I felt, I couldn't bare the thought of running outside, half naked where anyone could see.

   "So, you didn't like it."

   "No, she was scary, and I felt gross."

   "What else did she do?"

   "Well, she undid her shirt, and said something about me not wearing a bra.  I don't really need one, yet, but she said one day I would.  Then she took it off, or let it loose, but she didn't let go of me.  Her arm over my shoulder, or stop squeezing my chest."

   She asked me, "Do you play with yourself?" I don't, I wasn't raised that way but, she showed my.  How, she pulled up her skirt, and her underpants down.  She wouldn't let me go, and kept squeezing my chest, but.  She did it.  Right there next to me, then she let me go.  Put my shirt on, and fixed her top.  She kissed me, and left, so I just came up here, and cried."]



Just FYI, "Daddy's Little Dyke"/Yvette/Shannon is Wynona Davenport.  That first excerpt is written by Xtacy, but acted out by Sin D, with her daughter, and pictures of Eufrat:

Incidentally, she's named after the Ryder/car.
« Last Edit: September 25, 2017, 02:38:01 PM by Psiberzerker »

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Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #8 on: September 25, 2017, 03:07:55 PM »
   Mona {Mff...G NS}

   "Are you models?" I was just cutting through for an iced tea before meeting my poppa at the parking deck, but I stopped.  They giggled, and shook their heads.  "Well," He leaned over their table, "you're certainly beautiful enough." With his arm up, like Gaston {Beauty and the Beast.} "If you think you'd be interested," He flipped a card out, like a card-trick, "Why don't you give me a call?"

   They held it together, talking and giggling while he walked off, looking back...

   He almost ran into me, "I am," and looked down.


   "A model?" I looked back at the studio, across the food court.  "I just finished class, but I don't have an agent, yet." He got out a gold plated case, and another card.

   [...  Artist, Author.
Cell: (###) ###-####]

   I tuck it in my training bra, strike my best playboy pose.  "You busy?"

   He pulls his cufflink over his expensive watch.  "I have some time."

   So, I did my best runway walk, out the doors.  "Where're you parked?"  The wrong ones, I heard about him.  One of my friends, but he just bought her clothes, took pictures, and sketched her out.  Well, not just clothes, underwear.

   I was so excited, I almost dropped the Pager.  Popping out the battery, to but in a drained one.  NiMH, AAAs, but they don' recharge forever.  So, I saved a dead one, rolled the good one under a car.  Pretended to tie my shoelaces, while Poppas jeep pulled around, looking for me...  Then he turned the corner.

   I didn't have to translate the last alphanumeric message: [#Wher-eRU /#]

   "Over here," his car blinked, and chirped.  BMW, car alarm, luxury sedan, and a carphone between the seats.  This was a while ago, I'd never seen one before IRL.  Poppa was probably driving himself insane with worry by now, imagining all sorts of horrors.  The Sheriffs call, after pulling me out of a ditch.  Raped, I giggled.  "What?"

   "Oh nothing," shrug, "I haven't seen you at, [Agency Name] Studios." I actually went there for dance classes.  I guess poppa figures we can't get in any trouble, if we don't have the time.

   "Well," he lied, "I work weekends.  But I'm always on the lookout for fresh faces, and new talent."

   "What kind of artist?" Like it said on his card.

   "Photography, painting.  I also write short fiction, but I'm working on a novel."

   I bet!  Dilettante', everything about him said Trustee, money, boredom, and he likes to exploit young girls.  "Nudes, erotica?"

   "How old are you?" he frowned.  Probably virgins.

   "Eleven." True, but he wouldn't like me if I was too old, mature, or wary.  The suburban 'tween, confident, but gullible.

   "Really?" Fake shock, "But you look so much older!  Obviously so much more mature than other girls your age." Like the high-schoolers, back at the mall.  Verbatim, practiced, word for word what he told my friend.

   "Well," I brushed my hair back, "I did skip a couple grades." Also true, already in Jr.  high.  "My poppa just makes me dress so modest, to try and keep me off the pole."

   "The pole?" He shook his head.

   "The stripper pole?" I laughed, "My mom used to dance, but she stopped, when we had kids." I lied, too.

   He smiled, "Really?" Didn't have to fake interest.

   "Where's your studio?" Across the street, but he had to navigate the garage, and the parking lot, then pull around the massive building of the mall itself.  Convenient, to cruise for fresh talent.  Young faces, and bodies, his type probably doesn't stay barely budding very long.  Tucked behind some storefronts, no sign or anything, just a steel door, and another that rolled up like a garage.  He unlocked it, and walked around turning on the lights.

   "You ever seen Titanic?" Rated R.

   For nudity, I nodded.  They all pointed at a bentwood chaise draped with patterned velvet.  Like curtains, maybe even pulled them down off of windows somewhere, but just cut off straight at the edges, and frayed a little.  A camera, his, but no tripod for it.  Just set on some handwritten notes, photos strewn around, no lenscap.

   "I have to set-up," he pointed at a door, "If you want to pick something out in the dressing room."

   He put on some music, "What's this?"

   "Sneaker Pimps."



   More like a wardrobe, or the Wardrobe Dept.  at our Acting classes.  Everything but Modeling, really.  I even tried Soccer, but too much running. I looked for hidden cameras, or peepholes while I unbutton my sweater, and blouse.  Trying not to look like I was looking, out of the
corner of my eye, but I didn't see any.

   I held up the shortest dress over my underwear, and stood in the open door.  "How about this?" I switched to another, "Or this one?" Flashing my underwear between them.

   "Which one do you like?" I shrugged, held up the first one, and turned back.  Made sure to sway my hips, in my plain blue underpants.  I found some shoes, heels.  Never tried them before, but they made my legs look great under the hem of the dress.  A little tight too, I'm tall, for my age, but I'm 11.  Shouldn't even be in middle-school, which made me wonder that they make sexy clothes like this, so small.  Flat front, so I took my training bra off, and my nipples poked out the tight fabric.

   I swayed on the heels coming out.  "How do I look?" I twirled, so the hem swirled up over my legs, and the bottom of the underpants.  "You mind if I turn the AC up?" He started without me, sketching furiously, and didn't even look up.

   "Mh hm?" He nodded, sketched another line.  I didn't know they made FM pumps in my size either.  For `Fuck Me,' I sure was feeling it.  Tried not to pant, or fall down stepping over the cables for all the lights on my way back to the lounge.  The lights were still hot, with the air blowing, and the thermostat turned all the way down, but I didn't think my nipples would get any harder.  "Just lie down, make yourself comfortable."

   The velvet was hot already, but I let the hem slip up my hip, over the side of my underpants, and pretended not to notice.  "There," he pinched, and kneeded the erasor in his fingetips, but kept sketching.  With his leg crossed, and the sketchpad over his lap.  So, I couldn't see anything, under the expensive belt, and fine linen of his trousers.

   "Huh!" So hot, and it was hard not to fidget with my heart pumping so hard, and fast in my chest.  But goosebumps popped out on my exposed shoulders, down my thigh like my nipples which were so hard they ached.

   ...  A little later: "You mind if I take some reference photos?" I got up.

   "Nude, or clothed?" I looked up at him, bit my lip so he looked down from my eyes.  His looked, I don't know, puzzled?

   "Would you be comfortable nude?"

   "Well," I just pulled it over my head, "You said reference photos," my hair flopped down on my chest like whips.  "So, you can see better without the dress in the way?" I flipped it back, over my shoulder.  Ran my thumbs back, and forth in the waistband.  "You mind if I keep these on?" To pull them up, when I really wanted to stick my fingers in there, and unzip his expensive linen trousers.

   "That's fine," his camera buzzed, snapping rapid fire as he walked around, and I was still amazingly hot, in a pair of panties and pumps.  My goosebumps didn't go away, and I shivered for no reason at all.

   "There," his trousers looked tight, and I covered myself.  I'm not sure why, he'd already taken his nasty pictures, but I couldn't run back to the dressing room in those heels.  All I could think about was her crying, and wondering what was so bad about that?

   I closed he door this time.  It felt cool in there, but I took those shoes off, and rubbed under the straps first.  "Huh!" Then I thought about what I was doing?  "Uh!" I gave him a good long while, to jerk off.  Thought about what my poppa would think, and that made me feel better.

   He knocked, so I opened the door.  "Ready?" I nodded.  "Um," he walked me out to his car.  "What's your name?"

   He frowned back at me, "What?"

   Monica {F Solo, Exhi, Sabo MC.}

   I couldn't sleep.  Usually, rubbing one out in my underwear does it, but I was too exited.  Thinking about him, looking at the pictures, and jerking off.  Showing it to his friends, like my brothers looking at the underwear catalogs together.  Poppa seeing them.

   So, I got up, opened the window, and got some cool fresh air.  And an idea, out of boredom I went out across the Garage in my slippers, and dropped down to let myself in the side door.  The light was on, or all the outside ones, but I had a key stashed.  Put on gloves, to avoid any
telltail grease under my nails, or chipping them.  Read the Chilton's by the light through the window in the door.

   Got the spare key out of the magnet box under the wheel well.  He runs the motor-pool, on base.  He's an officer, but still keeps the Cherokee in perfect condition.  Which is why the constant breakdowns drive him nuts.  Of course, he suspects Sabotage, but not me, his 'Good Girl.' Probably one of my brothers, but their window was dark, so nobody saw me out on the roof.

   Not my fault dance class ran long, and my pager died, so by the time I called the agreed apon payphone, he was already frantically searching the parking deck, then talking to Security.  Again, of course they won't show him the cameras, run them back, not the first time one of us had gone "Missing, then turned up later, safe and sound.  A loose sparkplug wire should give me a few minutes, while he goes over everything, to "Sleep in." Or go set up my studio, now that I have someone to show it.

   I closed the hood quietly, and had the Chiltons back in it's place, but he came-out anyway.  Turned on the light, so it shone out the window, so I snuck around the corner, lifted the boards in the fence, and slipped back into the neighbor's yard.  Just in case he came outside, and for some reason this house never gets sold, neither!  I suppressed a snicker, and got the other key from it's hiding place...


   I turned it up, ostensibly so I couldn't hear, but I got in the closet, with a glass to hold up on the wall.  He hates it, of course, which only makes him beat them harder.  "This!" had to hurt, "Should teach you some DIScipline!" They cried, so I giggled.  Not that he'd even yell at me.  I'm the good girl, I sure never get spanked.  "Why are you crying?  You want something to cry about, you sniviling wuss.  Is that what you want, something to cry about?  Get over here!" My other brother's turn, I guess.

   I never even heard of BDSM before, but most people don't know every letter stands for 2 things.  I'm not Submissive, nor Dominant, much less a Masochist.  {Die Form.} When they got back, the boy's room was a mess.  As if they didn't get ready for Pee-wee fast enough to clean up, even with an extra 15 minutes while poppa found the right wire.  And probably checked the rest of the truck.

   "Ah!" My other brother was just crying.  Then momma limped in, so I hid the glass, and remembered my little brother.  So, I could cry, and pretend to be traumatized.  Why I don't mess with the brakes any more, and she quit dancing.  Not that she was ever a stripper, she watched Fame, not Flashdance.  Recorded the reruns on the VCR.  Bought the movie, and still watched them, reliving her childhood dreams.  I just had to learn to make my chuckles sound like sobs, she couldn't see my smile in her shoulder.

   "Rich" {MG NS Shad.  At this point, that's more for Shadenfreude than true Sadism, but we get a glimpse at what she really is.}

   Of course, I'm not going to use real names, but that's what he is.  Never bought me anything, but it's not like I could hide it forever.  Immodest clothing.  I had to tell poppa my friends wanted to hang out, the new one at my dance class, I had to make up to explain him giving me a ride. He warned me about giving out my Pager#, again.

   "Yeah," I nodded for him, "I guess I can get away from the old man." He frowned.  "There gonna be a chaperone?  Good, have him pick me up, so he knows I'll be safe."

   "Hey," I got in, "We don't have long, so did you bring your stuff?" He had his pencils, and stuff in this leathery case, "What about your camera?" I wasn't planning on him being able to draw.  He shook his head, so I just felt the pebbly case next to the seat, with my leg.  In shorts, wish I had a skirt to wear for him, but this was an old pair, and my underpants felt tight in my underwear.  "Turn left." Again, and again.  "Right here," I pointed across his seat at the driveway, and he pulled in.  He looked up, at my roof on the other side of the yard.

   "Isn't this," the yard directly behind ours?

   "Yeah," I got out, "Try to act like a Realtor." Carried his, notebook, thing.  Like a Trapper-keeper, for artists, and Dilettantes.  "Thought you worked weekends?"

   "My appointment canceled." Right, "So, I'll go in this afternoon." I told him the code, so he could open the lock-box.  This one has a separate garage, and fresh coat of paint over where I wrote [Fuck You], and [Helter Skelter] all over the walls.  They put the couch over the red spot where I poured out the extra paint too, but I bet the price kept going up with all the damage from vandals, and in this market?

   "Come on," I led him out back, "Let me show you my studio." They never changed this lock, just showed the garage, but they didn't really go in, and look around much.  "What do you think?"

   He gasped, looking up, and covered his mouth.  "What is this?"

   "Well, dungeon.  I never shewed it to nobody before, so as another Artist, I'd really like your honest opinion."

   "You're," I drank in his fear, "Sick!"

   "Well, yeah.  Why I thought of you.  Come on, you know what I'm talking about, your dirty little pictures, and I read part of one of your stories?"

   He backed out, "How?"

   "You didn't hide them?  So, I just picked up some notes lying around your studio.  Well, the dressing room, while you're jerking off?" He ran, so I just closed my eyes, and sighed.  Then, I locked up, and walked back around the block before poppa paged me.

   Of course, he called back, or paged me.  His cell number, but he has to take it out in it's satchel to charge it up.  It was years before they adapted them to the lighter socket, though I'm not sure the big clunky first generation ones would've worked.


   "Couldn't stop thinking about it, huh?"

   "No, I." he stopped, took a breath, "You weren't thinkin' , 'bout, going to the police, were you?"

   I laughed, "Well, they'd be interested, I'magine, but no.  I don't want them to lock you up."

   "You mean;"

   "You know what I mean."

   "Where did you even get that," come on, mister Intellectual, Impress me with your big word, "Apparatus?"

   "Well," I giggled, "The winch was already there, I just added the shackles from an old chainlink fence." And a wing-nut.

   "Well, don't you think it looks a little," He sounded scared.  "Dangerous?"

   I giggled, "I never used it!  Besides, they're too small for your wrists anyway."


   "Well, if you'd rather meet me at your studio, after my my weekly class."

   "Why?" Not really all that bright.

   "To return your notes?" I cleared my throat: "Ahem, [She was just so grateful, for everything I'd done for her, that she could not help but develop a little fondness, remembering all the time we spent together, as I showed her how beautiful she was becoming.] Run-on much?  How old is Stephanie, anyway?  Doesn't look more than 13 in this photo.  "Remind me, what's the legal age in Texas again?"

   "What do you want?"

   "Nh!" I didn't moan, "Hh, I want to, uH!  See You, Huh!  Again..."

   "Are you?" Playing with myself?

   "Yeah," not really, "You?"

   "Hang on." Fumbling.

   "I can't hear it." Gentle fapping.  "Harder!" Louder...  "But don't hurt yourself." I had to put the phone down, "Save that for me." So, I hung up.

   Then, I got my hands down mypants.  Of course, he's right, I didn't make any of that for sex.  At the time my fantasies were about Torture, and they'd probably fit a tweenage boy's ankles better anyway.

   I'magined the Wicked Queen, what would she do if she ever caught Snow White?  Had to have a Dungeon in that castle of hers, sure probably people to torture for her.  Like Count Rugen, but while she watched...  "Uh!" Or the Huntsman, once she found out he tricked her, lied to her.

   But now all I needed was to hear him, begging me over the phone, almost crying, and possibly buying me he things I need to torture him.  Yeah, I should have told him that, he's got the money, and it's not like I can buy anything likeat.  Or lingeree, where does he get it, in those sizes?

   "Huh!" I'd have to call him back, after I rub one off...


   "Rich" {M Mono Text.}

   [I guess I never really thought about it.  It's art, but now that I do, I realize that my models gradually became younger over the years.  Too slowly for me to notice, to realize what I was doing, but eventually I must have been exploiting children.  Well, not children, young adults, but I never touched them.  My attractions are purely visual, but I must admit I got off looking at them later.

   It never occurred to me to install cameras, or peepholes in the dressing room, because what would the point be if I wanted to draw them in the Studio?  I suspected from the moment I met you, but when you flashed me between outfits, I saw something special in your eyes.  How did you know those were 2 of my favorite outfits?

   And you are so beautiful, that wasn't just a line to see you in your underwear, I can't quite put my finger on it, nor remember it, but going back over your reference photos, I can't see it there, either.  I saw it best in your studio, but I was so shocked by the display, and it wasn't
just the look in your eyes, but I must admit I'm a little frightened at he thought of the pain.

   Those shackles, looked like they could do some permanent damage, and I am nothing without my hands.  Even as I admit I probably deserve it, to break them before they do something truly wrong, and evil.  But first, I have to see you, capture that unique spark in your eyes, that fierce intensity I'd only seen models feign in photos.  I feel it's what I've been searching for my whole life, career.

   Please, I will do anything.  I mean it, turn me in to the police, break my hands, torture me to death, but just let me see you again, and try to capture that look in your eyes one last time before you drive me insane!  After that, I'll accept my fate.

   Truly Yours; Signed]

   "Hey," did it even finish ringing once?

   "Can I see you?"



   "I can't get away, you know my pop;"

   "Not really, I mean I met him, once, but I can't really see what you mean about being such a control freak."

   "Well," huh!  "I guess you'd have to live with him," or be his daughter, "Being the only girl in his house is like being an only child." I have friends who are.  "Even the boys don't want to play with me any more, because I'm a girl." Made a face.

   "You wouldn't believe how many people in my circle turned out to be into that lifestyle."

   "Which one?"

   "Bondage, S&M." I giggled.

   "You trying to turn me on again?"

   "No, but I got a book."

   "Huh!" Okay, "But what about some decent bonds?"

   "Well, they don't really have stores for that sort of thing." Round here? You don't say!  "I ordered some things, but most of it is Custom, so it could take a while."


   "The medical restraints," I'magine he nodded.


   "You wouldn't imagine how horny just thinking about this is making me."

   "Are you jerking off?"

   "Are you?"

   .  .  .  I listened, "Well, Stop It!"


   "You've done more than enough of that, looking at your dirty little pictures, so for now, you're cut off, you hear me?"

   "I can't,"

   "Not until you find me some good bonds, so I can do it to you.  You have no dick, it's Mine now.  Understand?  you can wash it, and take a piss, but if you shake it more than twice, you're playing with it."


   "And I don't know where you get little girl's lingeree, but find me something," I had to think about it, "Go there and find something that makes me look wicked."

   "I don't know your size."

   "You know that dress I wore for you?" get hard again, "Yah, you remember how tight it was, over my little breasts, and thighs in those pumps?  Well, that's my size." Oh, and I remembered, "And lose my number, Pop's getting suspicious whenever my pager rings, so I'll call you."

   "And I can't,"

   "I swear to fucking god, if you jerk off again before this thursday, you will never get hard again.  You're cut off."


   Well, I never told him I wouldn't play with myself...  "Huh!" Good, nobody looking, because that was awesome!  It's not easy to walk with my hands down my pants, so I just pulled them up into a wedgie real quick before anyone noticed, and nearly fell down when my knees went out.

   "Are you okay?"

   "Fine!" I pushed her back.  Just have to get to the bathroom, and wouldn't you know it they'r clear around the lunchroom from the payphones.  I almost lost the mood before I get in the stall, and lock the door, but all I had to think of was, "You're cut off." It wasn't their eyes on me, or pop being pissed, if I skipped, but "Uh!" I was wet?  I mean literally wet, inside, so I slipped some up to the top, and rubbed it in.  "Nh!?"

   I didn't really threaten to castrate him, but ever since that Lorena Bobbit story came out in he news, even before I found somebody to try it on, "Huh huh!" and my fingers can't move fast enough, but I wonder if he smokes cigars, and has one of those guillotine cutters.  Only gold plated, and shiny to match his card case, an maybe just the tip?

   "Nguh!" Yeah, I wonder if it'd still get hard like that?  I never, felt one.  Caught the boys jerking off, a few times, but I've only heard him crying, and panting over the phone.  I haven't heard his screams.  "Huhuhuhuh!"

   Flush, and go out to wash my hands.

   I forgot to tell him a skirt.  Poppa won't buy me them, and it's just so hard to get off in pants!  The way it felt, brushing my underwear, and the lacy hem on the tops of my thighs so I felt half naked, and the way it twirled up when I spun for him in those heels, and my nipples poking through the tight silky fabric cupped around my chest instead of flattening them like a training bra.

   The bell rang, but I can skip one more class.  So, I locked myself back in the stall, until I fell off the toilet, shivering, and panting on the filthy floor.  I can't wait any more, but at least I know he's waiting too. Waiting for something to bind him with, leather medical restraints, he
said. "YeahHhuhuhuh!" Wash my hands again, and look in the mirror.  I looked sick, for all they knew, i threw up, ever since lunch...


   "Can you come get me?  Dad's got the jeep on base, and mom doesn't drive any more anyway."


   "At school?  The middle school, um, let me get the address."...  All over the office.  "Hurry, I think I'm going to throw up again." Or play with myself in the office lavatory until he pages me...

   "Nice belt," I tied my hair back.  {Perry Ellis.} I was so relievd to see him, I almost wanted to kiss him.  But I wasn't here to reward him, bad enough I skipped ahead on our date.  "You been jerkin' off?"

   "No," he winced, "I can't."

   "Why not?"

   "Every time I get hard, i think of you;"

   I hit him, "And that makes it got down?"

   He rubbed it, "No," his arm, I mean, "I'i think of you, cutting it.  Off."

   I almost got off again.  "Mhm?" Felt, dreamy?

   "I can't get the image out of my head!"

   "Huh!" I just closed my eyes, and felt the headrest on my cheek.  Rubbed it against the fine leather.  I didn't, I mean I felt moist between my legs, but all I could think of was it Worked!  I just had to say `You're cut off,' twice I think, to plant the seed, and now he thinks it whenever he gets hard!

   "Are you okay?" I opened my eyes.

   "No," I grinned, "I'm sick!" Said it himself.

   "You wouldn't," he looked away, "You wouldn't really?"

   "Cut it off?" I laughed, "Don't make me have to."

   But he was hard, and we're almost to the Mall.  There was the sign!  He signaled and moved over to the exit lane.


   Rich {GM Tort.  I mean it, this isn't Sadomasochism, Pain Play, nor Erotic Domination.  It's Torture, sadistic sexual abuse, and punishment.  It should also illustrate what I mean when I say "Never trust a Dom who never subbed" and "There's no such thing as a Natural Dom." Because that's called a Sadist.  In this case, Anger-Exitation.

   Why I chose the example of an 11yo girl, because if you don't know what you're doing, you'll probably do something stupid.  Like escalate from a 5 swat bare handed spanking to caning her bound standing in her second scene, or insisting "I am a Dominant." ~C.  Grey.  You aren't, either you're a lover who understands it's all about her fantasy, or you're an Abuser with delusions of grandure.

   So, don't try any of this at home.}

   "Sit down," she stretched out on the chaise in her school clothes.  Pants, sweater vest, button up blouse, and kicked off her shoes.  "Okay, now jerk off."


   "You heard me, get it out, I wanna see it!  What, you don't have a problem talking little girls out of our clothes, but now you're shy?  Are you ashamed of it?" No, but I admit this was a bit humiliating.  "Is that why you never touched us, fucked us, Raped us, because you can't get it up?"

   "No," I tore open my pants, "See!?"

   "I'm impressed," she rolled her eyes.  "My little brother could get it up in his diaper, you think that makes you a Man?" Uh!  My hands were shaking, and I was crying, "That's right, jerk it.  You sick fuck, you remember Britney?" Who?  "Britney Connor, she was about 14 when she told me, how do you think I found you?  You think she enjoyed it, it made her feel pretty?  That's not what she said when she told me, crying about it. You don't make us feel pretty, you make us feel Dirty!"

   I never really did it without some lotion, or someother kind of lube before, but she was right, i exposed them, all those girls so i could jerk off in private because i was ashamed.  Why does it feel so small?

   "You smoke?" Right in my face, I glanced back at the chaise, but she'd undone her sweatervest.  "Up here," something cold under my chin, "I asked, Do, You, Smoke?  Cigars, I know they're expensive, but;" she didn't give me a chance to answer, "But my uncle does, and he's not nearly as rich as you. That's where I got this," I looked away.  "Looks like they forgot to circumcise you, but you're getting hard again.  Maybe just a little trim, a little off the top?"

   I made this, mechanical, shearing sound.  Sharp metal edges against eachother, and I think there's a spring in there.  Right in my ear?  My eyes flew open, and I looked down, but it was just my buckle, brushing against it as she pulled my belt out.  "Arms behind you." Like a boyscout belt, it slips through the buckle, so a roller can lock against it when it pulls out.  But she wrapped it around a few times.

   "Sit tight," she went back into the dressing room, "I'm gonna change into something a little more comfortable." Snip!  The cigar cutter sheared between her fingers, then she was gone.  So, i let out the breath i didn't realize i was holding.



   Monica {...  Pretty sure you see where this is headded.}

   "Huh!" I got ahead of myself.  Ment to save that tirade for last, or later.  When I broke him, but "Dickless freak!" I snipped the cigar cutter in my fingers, but he wasn't circumcized!?  All my brothers were, so I never saw a foreskin before.  A real one, just the drawings in Health
class, and who'd they get to draw them?  "Where's My shoes?" I peeked around the open door, "You know, the ones I wore when I was here before?" That rhymed!  remember the wording, because I thought about penning a poem about this.  English class, not that I could turn in one about bondage, and turn it in.  All I'd done so far, besides Humiliation, but I didn't think about that at the time.  It occurred to me he'd cleaned up, though.  Just the pictures, and random notes, for his "novel.  Phf!" I scoffed.  Well, the ones of other girls, I pulled open a rack of hangers, and stopped.

   "huuhH!" I caught my breath, and sat down.  There's one, picture, but he'd hidden it.  Rolled a rack of clothes in front of the wall, and the painting.  Unfinished, just a portrait but huge, and where the eyes should be where just pits filled with graphite and erased until they looked
hollow. I strapped one on, should have taken them with me, but where would I hide them?  I'm to old for my father to be searching my room, as long as I keep it clean, but these pumps aren't like dirty pictures, or a sheet of notes.  Maybe in the air vent?  "Oh," I got up, limped out to the thermostat.

   Such a talker before, but now.  It's weird, maybe he hadn't practiced what to say?  He just turned, until I was behind him.  In my underwear, the blue ones with a bow sewn in front.  "Be back in a minute," I limped out, "Got to find my other shoe." Careful over the cables that nearly killed me last time.  The first time...

   He wants to see me naked, why he brought me here before, but I pulled the longest dress down and pulled my underwear off.  Next to the open doorway, I just dropped them.  Behind me, where he could see them, and pulled the dress over.  It hung halfway down my thighs, so he could see, but I had to peel the underpants off, and I stank.  I looked up at the wall, where he'd taped the reference photos around the portrait.  Saw the look on my face, and remembered.  When I first felt it, ashamed, the sick feeling that made Britney cry.  But these were me, all of them where of me, shooting my hip, and turning back.  My hair flopping over my shoulders, trying to pose like the models in the catalogs.  Never even seen the inside of a playboy before, just the covers behind the counter at the 7-11.

   But I was ready now.  I got up, unsteady in the heels, but they stretched out my legs so they looked fantastic, and made this great sound when I walked on the concrete.  I tried the model walk, I was a dancer, or taking classes, but then decided to concentrate on not falling down.  He wants to see me, looked up in the doorway.  I smiled, and hit him, "Don't look at me!" Honestly, they aren't comfortable, they hurt.  I wonder if he can get lingerie too small for even me, maybe he can get heels in his size? But not now, now I had work to do.  And I'd never been so horny in all my life!


   Captive {Again, Torture.  Mind Control, No Sex.  Not going to warn you again.}

   Her heels on the concrete, "How do I look?" She hit me.  "Don't look at me." Behind me, so I couldn't see, but she turned on all the lights.  I was already hot enough, and the belt felt clammy on my wrists.  "I don't dress like this for you.  Men, you can't imagine that maybe We like to look pretty?  Dress up for ourselves, eachother.  You have any sisters?"

   I nodded, "Yh!" She pulled my head back by the hair.  "Well, did they play dressup for you, or their friends?" She pushed my head down, behind me, but sniffed.  I could smell her.  Not her soap, I don't think she wore perfume, but she smelled strange.  Different somehow.  "You ever watch them dressing, fooling around," right in my ear, 'fucking?' The barest whisper.

   "No," why was I crying?  She hadn't hurt me, that much, but the belt felt so tight, and my arms ached.

   "But no, you have to go an' turn that around into something sick." She sighed, but it shuddered, like 'HuhHhHuh' "Make us feel, now what was the word, "Beautiful"?" Was she?  "Over and over to manipulate me into what you wanted.  A whore, you think I ever wanted to feel likeat?  Uh!" She was!  Playing with herself, behind me.  So I couldn't see, but I thought I heard, wet sopping noises too?  "Any of us?  Of course, you didn't pay me, touch me, fuck me, rape me.  I didn't get anything out of it but this sick feeling, that made me want to torture myself.  Well," she pulled my head back again, "I'm not going to," and even up side down, "Torture myself," the fierce intensity was back, "for being pretty.  Not any more, now that I know how you did this to me."

   "Ah!?" she pulled my hair back again, "LOOKIT me!" I had to close my eyes, "Look at what you made me," tried to remember it, her Look.  "With your eyes, your leering, staring, glances.  Your dirty little pictures, and that sick, fucking shrine you tried to hide in the wardrobe." She let my head fall.  "Uhn!" she moaned, "Huhhhhn!  You know what finally did it?  Hearing you cry, like a scared little boy on the phone.  That's when I got horny, the first time I touched myself, nH!  Like this?"

   "Please?" I just wanted to let go, stretch out my arms, and maybe lay down on the chaise?  I tried to crack my neck, but then I straightened up to the sound of her walking around.  How, did she?  Without anything to sit on, but she's not that short, especially in those heels, and she sounded like she was right behind me, when she wasn't right over my shoulder, whispering in my ear.  My fingers just shook, and my breath caught in my throat.  I was so hard, but I couldn't touch it.  "You smell it?" She bent over, right in my face, and held her fingers in front of my face.

   It didn't smell like fear.  "No?" I turned away.

   "Well," she straightened up, and the skirt hung down over the tops of her thighs.  I couldn't even see if she was wearing underwear, nor remember seeing it, through the door, right in front of me.  No, past the chaise, she sat down, with her leg crossed over the other.  Then she touched me, and I shrank back.  She touched my penis, picked it up, and it felt so disgusting.  I didn't want to get hard again, fearing she'd cut it, I just tried to swallow.


   "What?  she laughed, "Jerk you off?  It's only fair, are you ashamed of it?" No, "That I'll see it?  Come on, I think we're past the part where I might find out your little secret.  I see you tried to hide it, where are they?"

   "What?" I shook my head.

   "The pictures," she grinned, raised her eyebrows, "I know you jerked off in here, I bet before I even got dressed last time.  It took me a while, having to stop and cry, but I was confused, it was my first time.  You ever had a handjob before?"

   "No, stop!" but it was hard.

   "Nhihihnyeah!" She squeezed it, "You like it, see?  Don't want to admit it, for some reason, but you're sick.  So, where are they?"

   "There's a box," I had to point with my chin, "Under the drafting table," and thank god she let go.  Her heels, I couldn't look, or get the image of the ruffled edge of the dress swaying over her hips out of my head, as if projected on my eyelids.

   "Well," She picked it up again, "How hard could it be?" she giggled, so I shuddered in disgust, "No pun intended of course, but is this all it took? You need someone to punish you so you can have sex?" Do I?  I mean, I had sex before, of course.  But thinking back, at least my most memorable lovers were prima-donnas, or Bitches to be less politically correct.  They abused me, into fucking them?  My face felt so hot, I wanted to tell her to turn down the lights, but with the dark shirt, and pants, they clung to me, and my hair was soaked.  "Wow," she threw photos in my lap, "How many are there?" Another hit my pantlegs.  "So many victims, and how old are you?"

   "36?" She laughed, pulled my hair down by the spiked bangs, and slapped the top of my head.  "Yeah right.  Premature balding?  Must be an expensive haircut to cover up that spot.  Don't lie to me," she held me up, to stare in my eyes.  "You wanna get off?"

   "No!" It was so hard it hurt.  I don't know why I said no, but I can't say what I was thinking.  I didn't recognize all these feelings, yes shame, and pain, and fear, but this weird arousal, and excitement.

   "How," she almost sang, "Old, are, you?"

   "41." She let my head fall, and I sobbed.  But she kept stroking, and I heard another photo flap out of the box.  Stacked up inside, what the box was made for, 8"x10" for storing proofs, instead of comic books.  "Hmm," it fluttered down, off my lap to the floor.  "What should I ask next?" But her hand never stopped, relentlessly pulling the skin over the head, and even gripping so it slipped in her fist.  "You liked jerking off to them?"

   "No!" She just held up her hand, but I winced, and turned away.

   "Don't," she patted my cheek, "Lie," pat, "To," her knuckles brushed the other side, "To , me!"

   "Uh!" I shook my head, "I couldn't help it, I mean it!  I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop, get it out of my head, or concentrate with a hard-on." It's true.  It wasn't porn for me, it was supposed to be Art!

   "How many?" she threw a handful, "How many girls," but kept stroking, "How many victims did you make feel 'Beautiful' with your modeling scam?" Now just wads of them, more and more, until my lap was covered.  "Look at them!"

   "Uh!" Harder, and faster.  "Does she look happy?" she slapped me with one, "Don't look away, you took this picture.  Why, to look away?  What's wrong, can you see it now?"

   "Please stop."

   "What was her name, Nicole?" another, "Janeanne?" another, "Well, as soon as I'm done jerking you off, you're gonna count.  Every last one of them, every daughter you ruined, every name you forgot, every child you made feel sick so you could get off, looking at them." She said she could make it never get hard again, and i didn't believe her.  "All the innocent beauty you ruined, Lookat them!"

   "I'm sorry!"

   "No, you're not!" I hate her laugh, "Look at Simone here," she held it up, "Does she look like you made her feel beautiful?  Can't you see the tears in her eyes."


   "Oh!" she bent it down, and wrapped her thumb over it.


   She started stroking again, but i couldn't look at them.  All those faces, and bodies with my shameful semen splashing over them.  It softened, and crawled back into her fingers like an ashamed worm.  "Uh!" she shook her hand, hard enough to hear the thick drops spray onto the glossy stock.


   Captor {GdoM MC.  Yes, Tort, not even that much pain involved, but I never promised that kind of Torture.}

   "HuhHhHhH!" I just lay back.  It felt like I just got off.  Well again, but while I was almost dripping by then, it wasn't like that.  At all.  I didn't even want to touch myself, much less need to, but I almost fainted. Not sure that I didn't.  It was so powerful it felt like my brain melted,
and dripped down into my chest.  "Nnnnnnh!" I felt my head, then held it, turning on the hot velvet, that somehow felt delicious.  "Huh!"

   "Are you all right?" I just can't describe the sexually sadistic emotional release, not even going to try.  It's impossible, I hope none of you experience it yourselves.  Might wanna try Heroin?

   "Fuck!" I almost broke my ankle trying to stand up, but I caught myself, and nearly knocked him over in the chair.  "Huh!" I shook wet hair out of my eyes, and walked around.  To undo his belt, or try to, but the rest of the literally dirty photos slipped out of his lap onto the floor, and i helped him up until the back of the chair just fell out.  "Here," I helped him over to the lounge, "No, bend over the back."

   "Ah!" he jumped, but I swatted the other cheek, then pulled the back of his pants out of his hands.

   "Why're you crying?" Nh!  "You should be grateful, you ingracious fuck! I went to all this trouble to jerk you off, I'll give you something to cry about!"

   "No!" I fumbled at the buckle, but it took me a while to find the studs on the sides, and figure out how to pull it back in the slanted slot.  That, and it was pulled pretty tight to begin with.  "Nh!" he relaxed, and just let his arms fall.  But only long enough to double it over, and swing
it back.  "AUH!" He tried to cover himself, so the next one went right between his legs, and he jerked so hard he fell off the lounge.

   He screamed.

   "Uh uh uh uh uh!" And sobbed, curled up like a baby on the cables, and the draped corner of patterned velvet.  I got that feeling again, and nearly fell down, but managed to catch the back, and hold myself up until I could lock my weak knees.  "Huh!" I dropped the belt, and shook my head, but that didn't help.  I didn't like it, I loved it!  Even if it wasn't quite as good as the first time, but just the sight of his dirty mess, splattering in gushes over the faces, I had to blink it out of my eyes. "Huhn!" I got around to set down on the chair, and put my foot up to start
unbuckling the shoes.  He jumped, and hugged his legs when it hit the floor, so I put my bare foot up on his trembling hip, and unbuckled the other.

   To hide the fact that it was just about all I could do, feeling so weak, and dizzy, and the indescribable feeling slowly fading from my arms, shoulders, chest...  God my boobs were burning, and the dress top felt so hot I wanted to tear it off.  And fuck him, so hard, knowing he wasn't.  I missed it, rushed ahead so now he really couldn't get it up again, and I started crying too.  So, I held my breath, got up, and went back in the dressing room.  "Huh!" I looked back, and slammed the door.  Then, I got the dress off, and my hands between my legs before my knees even hit the floor.  It hurt, and I don't even just mean my knees, but that just excited me more, and my fingers stabbed into me before i could stop them.  "Uh!" I raped myself with them, as fast and hard as I could, flashing through every fantasy, and sick thrill I ever got.  The boys' screams, and daddy's belt slapping between them.  I always thought I'd be raped the first time, I just never thought to do it myself.

   And it was the best pain I ever felt.


   Wretched {G/M...}

   "Gotta fireplace at home?" She came out, half naked, and picked up her clothes.

   "What?" Her underwear from the floor, and the sweatervest from the lounge.

   I rubbed my wrists.  "How 'bout a barbeque?" Pulled a skirt on under the long blouse, I had to look away from.  She wore it like a dress, but short enough to need a skirt on under it.  When I looked up, she was tightening the belt over them.

   I relaxed, started letting my legs out, off the chaise, but then put my hands inside my legs, to tuck in, zip, and button up.

   "I asked you a question."

   "Yes," I shook my head, "Uh, a fireplace?" Remembered the poolside firepit, "And a grill."

   "Good," she threw the half full box on the chaise when I stood up," pick all these up." She unzipped her bookbag, but it was empty until she started stuffing school-clothes in.

   ...  "Come on," she pulled the flap down, and slipped the flaps in the sides.  "Take me home, Jeeves." She waited in the car while I pulled the master switch and locked up.  In the back, she put her legs up, on the seats.  "Don't look, just drive." Her skirt slipped up, or technically down her legs, almost laying in the middle of the seat with the armrest up.  "Don't touch that mirror." I started it up, and backed out.  "Done any shopping?"

   "Uh," drive, not First, I reached up for the leather wheel.  "I found a book," reached for my portfolio, "Oh," saw it, "And I wrote you something."

   "Nice car," her bare leg rubbed the back of my seat, "I love the seats.  Uh!" Playing with herself, but I kept my eyes on the road.  Kept glancing up at the mirror, but I couldn't see any of her.  She told me eleven, but I'd never seen a grown woman get that soaked, or smelled anything like that before.  Yeah, I turned her on, but she wouldn't let me roll down the windows, or turn on the air.  And the sun was getting low ahead of us, I just gripped the wheel tighter.  She laughed, "What's this?" I heard flipping through pages.  "[Safe Sane, Consensual?]" ~SM-101 "Haha!" It didn't sound funny, "See, you got the wrong book, this is for S&M, Bondage, pain play.  I'm not playing, I'm punishing you for being a sick creep, and taking advantage of me.  You read any Peers{SiC} Anthony?"


   "Fantasy/scifi author, he wrote Zanth{He really isn't familiar} The Incarnations of Immortality, uhm, Cluster?  I forget which one, but next time I'm at the library, I need to check out one of his collections," {Anthology, it's a pun.} "For you."

   "No," I shook my head," never heard of him.  

   "You'd like it, lots of sex, and violence, I probably read it to young, but it's called "On the Uses of Torture," or somethin' likeat."

   She dropped the book on the seat, and I looked back to see her pick up her shoes.  Her school-shoes, with her underwear and socks tucked in, but she pulled out the laces.  All the way out, I could hear it when I looked back, at the end of the straightaway.


   Mona {MG...BMW/Auto;}

   "I love the seats." Leather, noted.

   So, just take 2 shoelaces, fold them over in the middle, and, "Huh!" knot them, "Not completely useless." with a couple loops to slip over my fingers.  WHKT!  4 flat ribbony tails.  I'd read the rest later.

   He grunted, and rubbed his arm.  Nice short, too.  Even looked good on him, like boy's blouse light.  With the Aglets still on, technically a kinda scourge.  I bet they'd make him bleed.  That feeling didn't go away, but receeded to a dull ache, while I pretended to play with myself.  Still probably soaking through the bottom of the skirt, but not into his seats. I pushed back to let it fall.  "Unh!" Leather coated center-console too.  


   Read his, I don't fucking know, excuse?  Self appologetic bullshit, but I thought back.  To the way he looked at me coming out of the dressing room, but not just at my face.

   My eyes.  "Hihn!"

   So, I put the notebook up on the back of my legs, and caught a billboard out of the corner of my eye.  Blowing past, but one I recognized in the corner of my eye.  "I don't have a fireplace at home.  Although, my dad has several firearms, an army uniform, and cuffs, if you want to talk to him." He almost never got out the Pistol Belt.  Didn't think about it at the time, everything out to write it down, "You married, Rich?" He started shaking his head, or looking back, "Of course not."

   But that's it.  I was never abused, my dad beat the boys, never my mom, they're still together, and even the boys didn't turn out too bad.  Jr.  washed out a Private, and his younger, my older brother couldn't get in with his criminal record, but I wasn't even emotionally neglected.
I'magine it didn't help, but in retrospect, that about adds up to I was born a sadist.  At most, that's affected how I chose to express it.  He made the turnaround, so I let my skirt slip back down on the ramp, and pressed my bare hairless cunt back into the damp spot in the unbossed,
small grain, glove quality leather on the back of the center console.  Tried to make his car stink for weeks.  If he leaves the phone unattended tonight, I might get a chance to stink that up, and I didn't even consider the possibility I might be bleeding.  Wasn't any on my fingers, not that i thought to check, but I just might have seen it picking up my white training bra, and deciding not to put even socks on.  Just grab a skirt, damn near dragged the floor, still felt half-naked.  Or whatever 2 towels is, 3/4?

   Kept my hands free, but yeah.  Fuck your car, fucking Detente'.  {Piers Anthony} Fuck your phone, your house, your studio, but I won't fuck you.  You'll be lucky to see me naked later, because i can't control myself, but that's it.  You've gotten off for the last time, I think I was planning to mentally castrate him.  Keep them, as a reminder of what you can't do any more, "Pain is just a spice!" He still jumped, when i only WHKT!  the back of the passenger seat.  "I don't have to hurt you, too much.  Okay, it's like Jelapenjos, but you don't want too much, or you can't taste anything else."

   "Uhuh?" Okay, I love his car.  I liked this particular shape, and color before I saw he had one, maybe some of my dad rubbed off on me, but I'm not getting off on it, and I love that.  Especially when he changes gears, but he probably ran out of them miles ago.  I don't know, didn't check the time, he has a stick-shift!


   "Uhuh?" I know I can get leather shoelaces.

   "Divorced, actually." Oh.

   "What happen, she find out your dirty little secret?" Sound.  The WHKT! of the shoestring scourge, or the cigar-cutter;

   "Just grew apart," he shrugged, "Not sure she ever was the right one for me."

   Giggle, I mean, "Uh!  Or she got too old?"


   "Huh, got any Pictures of her?" He's visual, "I mean, back when she smiled." But responds to sounds.

   "I'm not a sadist like you!"

   Oh.  "Right," even I didn't see it.  "Of course not, your eyes don't see it, do they?  You even said, you're useless without your hands, but you don't really see who you look at?" I didn't do the introspection for years, "Why you can draw it, or paint it, because it wasn't there, in my eyes."

   "What?" Incredulous.

   "I told you," WHKT!  Wish I was left-handed, "Fear, shame.  You called it Beautiful, jerked off to it." Well I did once, too.  "Uh!  I guess pain is easier to see," and Hear.  I hadn't even read about Empathy, it wasn't a concept.  "Don't you see?  Your Studio is," I didn't call it "Your
Dungeon." either.  I thought I was gay, of course I lied.  The first time I was ever turned on was when Brittany cried on my shoulder.  "I'm not a masochist, either," but I have liked pain.  I had rape fantasies, never understood them, even since.  "Your models were your canvass.  What he referred to in the note, what allured him to me is that I didn't have any of that in my eyes.  I imagined subconsciously he recognized my heart was as dead inside as his.

   "No, I'm the Masochist."

   "Uh!" I held my shaking head, "It's sadistic.  I don't know why, but I think pain helps us identify with the Victim." We'll play it too, just give us a chance, "but that's not our Role."


   "You ever rape a girl?"


   "Well not me, obviously.  Huh!  I know you thought about it, right?"

   "No," he shook his head, "I don't want to rape you."

   "Well, how about a boy?" Technically I promised I would never have sex with him.  But I can manipulate him enough to find out.  If he can rape me. I fantasized a stranger, and it took me a while to figure it out in words, but here's the deal; If you've never been to subspace, how do you lead them there?  I'm an intellectual sadist, it feels better to crush his soul than any other feeling I've gotten between my legs, and unfortunately, I got addicted to the former before I ever even felt the latter.  I'd been using my family to torture eachother throughout my childhood, and I had the unbelievable fortune to find a self repressed malignant narcocist as my first victim.  Low maintenance doses of schadenfreude, so he can stay in denial, and passive aggressively expose girls for the erotic thrill, then became paraphillic with progressively younger victims.  I was just starting to figure any of this out, it ultimately took a team of FBI Profilers to teach me the words to describe it.


  • Guest
Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #9 on: September 25, 2017, 03:12:17 PM »
   Victor {M Mono}

   I never really thought about it, but she's right.  It's not pain, it's shame, but that's the only thing I saw as beautiful.  Until I saw Her, it's like that cute little girl went in, and she came out completely shameless. I don't need to see the pictures, it came back for the reference photos,
but even in the preliminary sketch.  I worked my way up to her feet, but I practically finished her hair.  I just couldn't draw her eyes, there was nothing there, she just didn't give a fuck.  Flashed her leg, hip, and pantieline like a burleque singer, and waited, patiently for me to draw
her. Didn't even look at me.  My foot, I tapped my foot a little, but I don't remember driving home.  I remember Her, in the back seat, where I could only feel her.

   And that whip she made, I read the book she got it out of first, but didn't really think about it.  I didn't like it, but I didn't like the bondage, either.  Just sitting there, waiting for her to get dressed, and anticipating having sex?

   That was better than sex.  I scoffed before, but I don't remember enjoying sex, as much as remembering it that way.  Sex is awkward, with everyone moving, so you run into eachother and things.  Unless someone takes over, says "Move here, no like this." I just never put my hands on any models before, or felt that.  I was always behing the camera, giving the orders, and playing them like puppets on strings.  Its just standing on that stage, My stage, I always missed the play i was directing.  I never knew how deep my art went before.  She took her skirt off, in the car, while I unlocked the door.  Private drive, I have a gate, despite the modest bungalo.  Never needed that much space, I'm a bachelor, why I got the Studio.

   And, it's close to home, "And right across from the mall.  Why we need the fireplace, to destroy the evidence."

   She brought the box, "Your victims?" Held them up to me.  Left everything in the car, I hit the alarm, and locked it.  "What is this, a cottage?"

   I shrugged, "Garage out back," about half of it, and a lofted ceiling to the ridgepole, across the short axis.

   "Why do you lock up?" I shook my head, there's no foyeur, it's an open floorplan.  "Uh!  It's got a gate, but it's like a little apartment?"

   "It was a detatched garage," shrug, "They added the apartment in back, then they put up a fence, and I had the gate replaced."

   "It has a pool?"

   "It was the pool," now in the side-yard, "they got a new one."

   She opened the patio door.  I grabbed a beer out of the fridge, right next to it.

   "So that's your folk's house?"

   "They sold it, they still own this, but they get a hotel when they visit."

   "Oh," she shook her head, "Those [Sirname redacted]s."

   I nodded, "Wanna do this inside?" It wasn't chilly, and I slapped my head.  "What?"

   "Swimwear," huh!  "I couldn't find lingerie in your size, but I bet they have pretty good bathing suits." Standing right there, on my quarter acre, wearing a shoelace, and a negligee.  "Let's go inside," she shrugged, grabbed a log from beside the {Stone Masony Altar-fire, with brick sides, and slabstone tops on other side.  Texas, D/FW area, I'magine.} grill.

   "Yeah," she grunted, and threw the log in the fireplace, "Let's start with the fire." I shrugged, turned on the gas, and hit the igniter.  "Ok," she kicked the hearth.


   "I wanted to do it," she dropped, to the carpet.  Crosslegged, I glanced down, then looked back up.  "What?" the look left her eyes, and she looked like the reference photos.

   "And now that I look for it, I like seeing a little shame in your eyes." She got mad.

   "You got a gallery here?"

   I shook my head, just a few choice pictures, around.  "Which one's your wife." Grinning, and frowning, both sincerely.

   "Huh!" I pointed, "Yeah, she was a model.  Not hugely successful, she's still working, but I think she's probably plateaued.  And yeah, if i saw her again, I'd probably happily strangle her right now."

   "What did she do?"

   "She's a bitch, high maintenance gold-digger, but look at her.  She's beautiful, she knew it, and now she can see it starting to slip away."

   "Any kids?"

   "One," with her, "She gave him up for adoption, didn't "have time for a kid," she might have already gotten him back, I haven't exactly been following her since the divorce."

   "Alex," she read, showed me her.  "Remember her?"

   "Well, it was a couplefew years ago." She threw the photos on the fire. "You didn't date them."

   "The pictures?" I shook my head, "I didn't date models, aft;"

   "Ana," she waved another, "She looks like 19, so an old one?"

   I laughed, "Yeah." I already admitted, the farther you go back, the older the models are, but she like puns.  I started picking up on that.  At least it's not Monty Python, or something.


   Monica {...}

   "Sandy," he read aloud, and flipped it back to look at the photo again.


   "That another reference?"

   "Allusion," she shook her head, "You officially have more victims than years you've been alive."

   I stopped saying 'she wasn't my victim.' Some of them, I didn't start off exploiting them, or even seducing after the divorce.  I was heartbroken, but I do have to work.  I don't pay rent, but that's about it, and I live pretty well on my income.  I nodded, and threw her on the fire,
she handed another.

   "Stephanie?" Flipped it back to check.  "Yeah, she was 16, I think?  Earlier this year." I closed my eyes, "She cried.  I held her until I stopped.  And jacked off when she left, we almost done?" I'd probably gotten blueballs 3 times over the course of the box.  It's a big box, and
it was pretty full.

   "Wanna take a break?"

   "Depends," I frisbeed her into the fire, "You wanna be tied up?"

   "No?" She hit me, "No really, stop!"

   "All right," I forced her down, "I won't tye you." I don't think she likes bondage.  Why she's obsessed with it, doing it to someone, I just held her wrists.  "Nh!" I didn't know what to do, my hardon went away, so I put her arm under my side, and reached up for my belt.  I knew how to do it one-handed, yeah it was backwards even with the [P E] boss right side up, but it was an awkward position, and I understood bondage a little better in that moment.  Of clarity, it's beyond awkward.  You can't do anything, I was helpless.  "So," I whipped it out from under her, "I'll have to do something else with this." Showed it to her, her eyes went wide, and I felt the hem up her lip with it bent around her bare skin.  "You like leather?"

   "No, don't hurt me!"

   "I should have thought of that," I looked up, "When you tortured me.  Are you a good girl?"


   "Of course not, in your sick twisted head you hate that.  You wanna be the bad girl, don't you.  Have you been bad?"

   "No, please."

   "I won't hurt you," I stuck the doubled over middle up between her thighs.  "Do, you, like.  Leather?"

   "no," she turned away.  'i love it.' Then, "HhH!" when my thumb slipped up enough to push it into her.

   Pantiless crotch, stinking snatch she waved around me, and punishing me with.  "You get off on it?"

   "No," she turned back, "Not yet." Shameless.  Then, I closed her eyes pushing hard enough to feel bone through it, and turned my thumb.  Side to side, I assume between her labia, I couldn't see, or feel it.  "NH!" I pulled it out, "Don't stop." She grabbed for it, but naturally, I brought in my portfolio.  Didn't even think about it, unlocked, and hit the car alarm with the other hand, force of habit.  It's always at hand, lean it up against the side of the bed at night.  "What kind of leather?  This wasn't smooth, like matte patent.  There was a suedey inside, but the Portfolio has a rolled edge, a seam, and is worn on the bottom from setting it down, well everywhere.  Even on brookside rocks for one shoot, on location.  "Yes," she pinched at it with her free hand, when I sawed the corner into her.  She opened her eyes, looked up, "Fuck your art." She didn't even smile, dead in her eyes, then "Mh?"

   I'd picked up the belt.  Passed the tongue under her wrists.  "NO," she closed her eyes, "Please."

   "You like feeling helpless?" She shook her head.  "How would you know?" I got the tongue through the buckle, and pulled it tight.

   "Nh?" She tried to pull away, when the strap went tight.

   "You think you know what it's like, because you've got the military discipline father?  You never called him Sir, did you?" I pulled the tongue, and just held it over her head.  She dropped the portfolio, so I just set it aside, Smoothed the dress back over head.  "You ticklish?"

   "NoowohaHA!  Stop that!" then "Ah!"

   "You don't want me to hurt you, so," I tickled right where I just slapped the inside of her thigh.  "Which is it?"

   "Please, stahap!!" She struggled.

   "Fucking tease," I rolled on top, and slapped the granite tile with her hands.  Then I saw it, she was surprised, but when her eyes came up to mine, there was fear.  It's easier to get my pants open, without the belt, I maybe got a couple strokes in, then shot all over the pink satin of the nightgown like a teenager on his first grope.  "Uh!  fucking jerk me off," I got up on my knees, and she turnead away.  Helpless, holding her breath, grimacing, and I saw the shot spatter up the side of her flushed cheek right before my eyes snapped like a shutter.  "Huh!" And other one, so I reverse blinked to catch the next shot, across her throat, and jaw.  "Nh!" The disgust!  "Nmh!" Here comes another!

   She sobbed until I literally got off her, but when she looked up, there it was.  Beyond shame, I humiliated her.  She got more on trying to wipe it off with the front of the shift, and I even heard her gag a little.  Then, I took her hands, and untied them, as I held her, while she cried.]



"Rich" is of course, Mr. Davenport, who's totally single, and doesn't have a daughter in the 4th grade (Private School)  They have a pool, and a poolhouse out back.  Used to be a garage, right down to the winch hanging from the ceiling, and fence cuffs to hang from a wing-nut.


Stazzy (ff NS Fash. M/f CoveInce Nude)

"I'm gonna go take a wiz." I just shrugged, and pulled out another hanger.

"Ooh!" I held it up. Can't really see what it'll look like on me, looking down like that. So, I took it to the mirror. "Yeah," I turned.

"Ooh! Where did you get that top?" I turned pointed. "Let me see that." She held it up.

"It won't fit you," I took it back, "There's more." I decided to keep it, though. "Over here," she likes it too!"

"Are you a model?"

I nodded, "I'm taking classes." She took off her top, and tried it on. "Yeah, that looks good on you."

"You too. Try it on."

I looked around, shrugged and pulled off my top. "Hey, Stazzi." My dad came around the racks. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh," um. He smiled at her.

"I'm Blake." She handed me the top.

I slipped it on. "How do I look?"



"Hmhm?" He glanced back, "Yeah, you can get that." She was smiling, and bit her lip. "You hungry, girls?"

"I could eat." She pulled out a card at the checkout, so dad got out his wallet.

"You get a card?"

"Ha, don't get any ideas, Stazzi."

"Gift card," she held it up.

"Besides, I like shopping with you."

"Dad, my hair?"

"Sorry, sweety." He payed, so we went out to wait for him. While he leaned over, and talked to the cashier


"OMG, your dad is so cool!"

"Well," I smiled, "Yeah. But yours lets you come to the mall, by yourself?"

She shrugged, "He likes surprises. You're gonna be a great model."

"Yeah?" I felt my hair, "Thanks!"

"Yeah, you have great hair."

"Come along, girls." So, we followed him to the food court.



"Look at his ass!"

"Uh! Blake?"

"Well! He's bae. You know he's a babe, right?"

"Well, yeah." My makeup felt hot. "I heard."

"What's he do?"

"I'm a stock broker." He spread his hands at the food court, "So, what do you girls want?"

I know what Blake wants. She just looked at him, so I looked around. Same places, they hadn't changed in the last week. "How bout a salad? Someplace with salad."

"Of course, hun." But he winked at her. Just keep on smiling, bitch.

"You're not on a diet."

"Oh no, I'm vegetarian." And besides, "You know what red meat does to your body?"

"I'm sure you want to tell me all about it." She rolled her eyes, "How about Sbarros?"

"Whatever you want." So, he went with her, to pay. I like her, she's cool, but. I don't know if I want her, dating my dad. What? He's single, look:

My parents didn't shelter me, okay? I don't know how you were raised, but sex is a thing, she obviously has the hots for him, and since mom left. Well, I guess I wish he'd settle down with a woman, and he's not going to do that with Blake, because she's just another girl, you know? He needs to get married, again, not just another 1 night stand, and I like Blake, but I don't want to hang out with her if she's doing my dad. It's awkward, and they always stop, whatever we're doing, to go bone in his room, so it makes me jealous. So, you want her, you can have her. I don't even know her that well anyway.

"Uh!" She got a Calzone. "Disgusting."

"Hm?" She swallowed, "What?" Smiled with greasy lips.

"Uh! All that fat?" I looked down, significantly.

"What, I'm not fat!"

"Nwr?" Swallow, "But it's not good for your organts, either." Wiggled a little lettuce out with my tongue. Iceberg, but whatever.

"You Italian?" She had her mouth full, so she just nodded, and smiled.

"And I read a study on cured meats, like sausage, pepperoni, bacon."

"Oh, I love bacon!"

"Yeah, me too."

"Yeah, well it causes cancer. Colo-rectal cancer."

"Yeah?" She took another bite, shrugged.

"My girl thinks she's going to live forever if she doesn't eat meat."

"Dad, you said you'd support my decision!"

"I do, honey. But I'm not going to quit eating bacon just because you threaten me with cancer. Honey."

See? She's already getting between us. So, I just ate in silence. He can have this one, I got plenty of friends. Just play along, so the mall security doesn't call the cops on him like some creeper, but he really needs better taste in women. Instead of random disposable fat sluts he picks up at the mall all the time. Yeah, I understand, he's a man, and he has needs. She's a girl, and I know he has an effect on them. Seen it happen enough all ready.

"Huh! Can we go!"

"Yeah, sorry."

Just go ahead, and bang her. Then she can get out of my life.

"What kind of name is Stazzi?"

"Well, what kind of name is Blake?"

"I asked you first."

"Uh!" So, I looked it up, "Well, it's short for Anastacia."

"Well, that's a great name. I wish I was Stazzi."

"Yeah?" Maybe she's not to bad.

"Yeah, it's so aggro!"


"You design too?"



"Well, I have a few studies. They're not really good." But I want to. That's where the real money is.

"Mr. Petersen, would it be all right if I hang out with you tonight?"

"You need to call your dad?"

"Oh no, he doesn't keep tabs on me."

"I do. You know, with a daughter as beautiful as my Stazzi."

"Oh, dad."

"I worry that she might run into the wrong guy, or be targeted for her looks."

"Yeah," she frowned, "There's a lot of creepy guys around. You never know when you'll run into one."

"Nhghk!" Okay, maybe she's not so bad, after all.

She got in back, with me. So we can talk, dad even put some music on.

"You don't wear bras?"

"Not all the time, you know what they do, to your boobs?"

"Dr. Stazzi." She teased, "I need one."

"Yeah," I bet! "Well, I don't need the support, and I don't want to get all saggy in my 20s."

It's a game, she's actually pretty good at it. Teasing, we don't mean anything by it, and don't let those social justice bitches lie to you about shaming. You don't just come right out and say you've got great tits. Like a guy, so you tease them. It's fun!

"Oh," she had her phone out, "Here's my dad." Holding her on a white deck for the camera. In a bikini, and a speedo.

"Ooh!" I took it. "Is that, Itali?" He's dark, and hairy, and tanned, and all muscley!

"Greece, um." She bit her lip, looked up. "Pori, I think."

"Where that?" Hey, if she's gonna look at my dad, and her dad looks like that!

"I don't know, some island. There's a lot of them in Greece." She nodded, "Just a little fishing trip, this summer."

"Where's your mom?"

"I don't know, probably the Bahamas right now. Just the 2 of us. This is a real nice car."

"Oh," so money. "Yeah, you like the leather?"

"Oh yeah." She felt the seat. Picked up her drink, from the armrest between us.

"I never been to Greece, but we went to Itali."

"Oh yeah? Where?"

"Oh, Rome, Naples, Sicili, Paris."

"Hihin! Paris isn't Itali."

"Yah, all around the Mediterranian. Kind of a foody tour, my dad's a foody. We hit Barcelona, and Marsailles, too."

"Wow, sounds like a great trip." She smiled, nodding, "What's your favorite place?"

"Uh," I had to think, "Espania?" I guess, "I really got to work on my Espanol, there."

"Yeah, I didn't really get to learn much Greek, but we rented this really nice yaght."

"I bet," just the 2 of them. Nice romantic view of some rocky, island. What did she call it? I bet there was a beach. "What's Pori like?"

"I don't know, just some rock in the middle of the ocean."


"Okay, sea then. But it was like the ocean. Dad said great fishing."

"So, he likes to fish?"

"Deep sea fishing?" She nodded.

"You like fishing too?"

"Not really, but mom just left, so he already had the tickets, and he asked if I wanted to go."

Explains the romantic island getaway for 2. Or 3, somebody had to hold the camera.

"This is us," he pulled up the drive, and opened the garage.

"Wow, nice place!"

"Wait till you see inside." He grinned.

"Where's your mom?"

"She left." And that's all he had to say about that.

"So, he's single."

"Well, we can skip the tour, but." She took my hand, "You want to show me your studio?"

"Oh, I don't have a studio."

"Well, where do you work on your clothes?"

"Oh, up here." I took her to my room.

Blake (ff)

Nice room. "Wow," a lot of clothes.

"You like it." She nodded. "Oh, over here." She showed me her drawing table, like at art class.

"So, you are a designer."

"I'm working on it, but I'll find out when I get to fashion school."

"Instead of modeling?"

"Well, there's a lot of competition. You know, every girl wants to be a model, and we have a bit of a shelf life."

"So," I think, "When you get older?"

"Exactly, and it's what my dad calls diversifying. Instead of putting it all in 1 thing, you spread it out so 1 failure doesn't ruin you." She sat down. "You want to try some on?" Lots, and lots of clothes, and really nice ones.

"I don't know," I picked something up, "If you have anything that would fit me."

"Well, just the form fitting things." She pulled a wrap out, "But the nice thing about my clothing concepts is they're not sized to fit, anyone. Here," she draped it over my shoulder, so I stepped over to the mirrors. "See? I was thinking maybe I could design for anyone. Any body, so it's like diversifying."

"Good idea," and I like how the diagonal lines curved, then the fringe draped back to my hip. "Huh!" I shot out the other one, it just draws the eye, to the exposed hip. "How's it look on me?"

"You really have a great body." Like she wasn't insinuating I was fat for eating fat, back at the mall. I guess I flirted it up too much with her dad, and it made her jealous. So, I stopped. Shouldn't have started, it was inappropriate, I just didn't think about it right away.

"Thanks." I looked, "So like, a toga?"

"Sorta. Not, unlike that, but there's drapes and wraps like this in every culture. While dad was sampling the food, in Europe, I guess I was looking at the clothes."

"Yeah, especially in Paris, Rome, Milan?"

"We didn't do Milan, but I mean in like Cordoba."


"Yeah, they just say Cordoba, in Espania. They don't really use the V sound there."

"What's the fashion like there?"

"It's not Fashion, it's just clothes. So, that's where I got the idea of Everyday Fashion, for Every Body."

"So, affordable."

"And versatile. Look." She got a book out, "Tell me what you see." Flipped through, page after page.



"Yeah?" Modeling the clothes, that's what they do, I don't have to tell her that. "So?"

"So, they're all the same. So, all the clothes are made for that 1 body. You don't look like this." She tapped the page.

"You do."

"Yeah, but that's a vast, untapped market, all around me."

"You don't like your body?"

"I don't know. It's okay, but I wish I could grow tits like that."

I blushed, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, women have hips, and breasts, and thighs. The fashion industry doesn't like to admit that, instead they present this rediculously high standard, and force women to conform to it. I don't want any part of that, it's uncomfortable for me, and I don't have to try to cram my thighs into a size 4. Or whatever size they call it."

"Hihihn! So youra fashion rebel."

"Yeah," she put her hands up akimbo. "Fashion. Rebel!" Posed, so I kept giggling. "That's why I want to get into fashion in the first place. To fight it, because it's evil. It's bad for you."

"Like eating meat."

"Okay, well that's a whole nother industry I'm not even getting started on, but I'm not a farmer, I'm privileged."

"You're an activist?"

"Yeah, kinda. But protest doesn't do anything? I mean, how many protests have you seen, and how much actual change have they accomplished since the 60s?"

"I don't know," never really thought about it.

"Well, take the Dakoda Access Pipeline, for instance."

"Yeah, they stopped that."

"Yeah, and there were hundreds of oil spills from hundreds of other pipelines before the Army stepped in to stop that 1 project. You see? That's what I'm talking about. The people that get things done aren't flying signs for justice. They're the whistleblowers, and innovators that show everyone there's a better way, so the Industries have to get in line!"

"Wow, I wish I had, your. Passion? You really have it all thought out. I mean, not just your career, and future, but you really want to change the world?"

"Not really, it's just fashion."

"Yeah, but it's your life! Your whole life, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"I have no idea what I want to do with my life."

"Well, you ever thought of going into modeling?"

"Oh, I couldn't."

"No, that's the industry standards again. You're too short, too fat, your hair's too dark and wavy."


"So, you're not! If I'm going to make clothes for everyone, I need models that don't look like me. All kinds of bodies, even yours."

"I thought you said I had a nice one?"

"No, I said you have a beautiful body. I mean it, actually far above average, which means it's not right for the more typical woman. But it's not their body, it's yours. That's what my clothing is for, so that every woman can be beautiful. Even if it knocks me off my fucking pedestal of priv'ledge."

"Well, you're gonna be rich, and famous." But I do feel beautiful now. So, that worked.

"Yes, because I have to, to get anything done. Privilege isn't about giving up wealth, and power, it's about using those for good. Instead of making more wealth and power, by taking it away from everyone else." Like her stockbroker father.

"Oh." Okay? "Hh, you want to fool around?"

She turned. "Are you hitting on me?"

I touched her arm. "Well, huh! What with flirting with your dad, and now you talking about how beautiful my body is." She pulled away, and walked off. "Huh!" I'm just really horny. I'm Italian, it happens to us Italian women. "I'm sorry." I made her uncomfortable.

"It's okay, I'm just not gay."

"Me neither." I shrugged, and pulled the wrap off my shoulder. It looked great, don't get me wrong, but the lopsided. Well, I don't guess weight is really the right word, but it bothered me.


"No, I like guys. I just. Huh! I like you. You're cool, and passionate, probably the most gorgeous woman I ever met, and actually got to talk to. I'm just really horny, and I don't want to just go out and fuck your."

"Oh, it's all right." She waved, off to the side. "Go right ahead." Didn't even turn around. "Huh!" Just sighed.

"I told you. I don't want to." I touched her shoulder. "He's too old, and creepy." Too much like mine, except in the looks department. "You just." I kissed her shoulder. "Made me feel so sexy." And I want to pay her back. "There's nothing gay about it?"

"Yeah, right."

"Huh! It's not. Gay. I didn't know you're homophobic, I'll just go." Finger myself off real quick in the bathroom, or something.

"I'm not homophobic, just not gay."

"I told you. Neither am I." Maybe bisexual, but that doesn't feel right. "You're just so tall." I felt her arms, "And beautiful, and passionate." I just want her to kiss me. So, she did.

Ana (ff Toys.)

"Hh!" Yeah, I tried it before. With other girls, how I'm so sure I don't feel anything, homosexual at all. I don't know why she's different. She's just some girl, I met at the mall. I ment it, she does have a beautiful body, but it's not about that. I just don't know, what it's about. All I know is I didn't feel gay. At all, when I kissed her, and she sighed on my mouth.

"Let me get this makeup off." Yeah, maybe that'll break the spell. Nope? "Huh!" I dabbed out cold cream.

"You masturbate?"

"Of course. I just think about guys."

"Yes, of course. So, it's like that, only. Together, with someone else."

"You've done this before." Seduced other girls, and I have to admit. I do like to be seduced. It just usually doesn't happen so fast.

"Well, not a lot. I have girlfriends, not like girlfriends, I mean. We don't date, we just hang out, and sometimes we get horny."

"Yeah." Well, don't need the blush any more. I wiped my face smooth with a wipe, and felt my cheek with my fingertips. I felt hot, I could see it in the mirror, but I could feel it, with my fingers.

"Yeah," she turned me, so I put my hand down. "So, you can pretend to ignore it, go slut it up with the closest guy, do it yourself, or just deal with it."

I nodded up, bit my lip. "Mhm?"

"There's nothing wrong with helping a friend." Finally, she bent down to kiss me. "Deal with it."

"Okay." I got up.

"You don't need makeup, and you know what it does to your skin?"

"Ha!" She's very good at this game! Using my own words against me, she pulled off her shirt. "So," I'm willing, "how do you do this?" I don't want to eat any pussy.

"Just like you do it, by yourself." She lay back on the bed, in her bra.

"You really have a fantastic body." I just never found it sexy before. Swimwear, no belly evenwithot laying back so it hangs in, but busty, bottom to match, nice broad hips that beg for something to drape off of them, and a little curve in at the waist between them. Even a little jealous of her, my dad wasn't the only one that spotted her, but I'm used to them looking at me, and she even got some looks. "Huh!" I turned back to the dresser.

She unzipped her pants. Tight, hip hugging, almost tights, but they also formed her bottom nicely to compliment her narrow shoulders, and impressive bust. "Where're you going?"

I pulled out my toy drawer. Checked the bottle of lube. May be enough for both of us.

"Is it like a mask?"

"My makeup?" I looked back, but she was naked. At least she had her hand over her. "Huh!" never really thought about it, "I guess you're right?" I never really minded people looking at me, but I nodded. Remember even calling it warpaint, or armor. "It makes me feel more confident, in public."

"It hides how you feel." I feel, well I really should be disgusted, right? I remember feeling disgusted, before, but it seems so long ago, and far away. "Toy girl?"

I looked down. "Yeah." Carried some of them over with the lube.

"Your nails."

"I'm not cutting my nails."

"No, hihn!" She jiggled! "I mean, it's easier with a toy." She held up her hands, "When you have nails."

"Oh," I nodded. "You really have done this a lot."

She grinned. "Why's your toys, and lube clear across the room?"

Sex addict, much? "Because I know I have a problem." I nodded.

"Well, I don't know about a lot." She moved over, but I just watched her chest. Shaking in her bra when she moved. "I have a lot of horny friends. I keeps us from doing anything rash, when we get horny."

"You want me to take my clothes off?"

"If you like." I just set down the toys.

"For you? It helps me get in the mood."

"Uh," she held up my vibrator, "You got anything smaller? I might have to work my way up to this."

"Oh," I turned back, "Yeah."

"You want me to watch you strip?" I nodded. "Okay, I'd like that."

I just pulled off my top. That felt better. Not sexier, just cooler. ""How's this?" I showed her my smallest one.

"Yeah, that'll do nicely."

So, it's just like sharing toys. I can do that. I never did, before. "I had a lesbian friend," I nodded.

"Not any more?"

"No," I look down, "We grew apart."

"You tried it with her?"

"Huh! She seduced me." All right? "I'm not made of stone," obviously, but I started moving my hips, and rubbing my thighs together. "Huh!" Closed my eyes, and felt up and down my body. "But she asked me if I was bi curious, and I guess one thing led to another..."

"Yeah, that's kind of how we discovered, well I'm not bi."

"You just like to masturbate together."

"Yeah. Haha! It helps, nh! Hmmmm! Mh? Yeah, you know, sometimes it's hard, to think about what you're doing, while you're doing it, and feel it too?"

"Mhm?" I slipped my skirt down my hips, and slipped my hands up between my thighs. Together, I felt my crotch. Definitely getting damp. "You still think about boys." I tried to.


Not a single one comes to mind right now.


"I hope you don't mind, if I think about."


"Well, you're naked, right there." She bit her lip. I nodded, shook my head. "I ment, your dad."

"Oh no." I wouldn't have minded if she just banged him, but then we wouldn't have had the chance to do this.

Well, half naked. I slipped the skirt off my feet on my way onto the bed. My bed, I have another girl in my bed.





Felt so excited as this by it. Before. Before I met her. "Blake?" Even her boy's name.

"Mhm?" She turned. On the pillow, her hair on my pillow.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't. I just turned my head, and kissed her.

Maybe I am turning gay? Or bisexual, I just. Never felt this way about a girl before.

{Author's Note: Don't worry about it. It's like Race. An identity, if you identify as straight, you're straight. If you have sex with someone, of the same, or a similar sex, even if you fall in love. Nope, still straight. TBPH the only thing wrong with it is worrying about it. That's what causes racism, sexism, homophobia, some erectile dysfunctions, and makes straight men uncomfortable with anal sex. It's NOT Gay. Period. Nothing is, either you are, or you aren't. Sexualities can change, but nothing can make it happen. So try it, try anything, secure in the knowledge that it doesn't make you gay. Short of rape, or other abuse. That does change things, it makes you a rapist.}

Blake (...)

Nice little one. It's got ridged, almost like edges, but curves in between them. And a nice little motor, not very powerful, but fast, which really lit up my clit.

It's funny, she danced for me to watch her, but closed her eyes, and felt herself up. Okay, "Huh!" She doesn't look like her dad, at all. Maybe the hair, same blond, not out of a bottle, but longer of course. Nice fashion bob that sets off her whole face, kind of like how her shawl? Whatever it was she put on me really made my body look beautiful. Sexy, she made me feel sexy, but I was already so warmed up by her dad, and.

Okay, I scare myself. I'm glad she was willing to try this, because all I wanted to do is run right down stairs, tear off his clothes, and jump up and down on him. But for now, the little head of the vibe is big enough, with the opening clamped tight around it, and the edge buzzing delightfully on the ouside.



Yeah. Great little vibe, I really need to get one of these.

Ooh! And the big one, she likes big fat toys, if the shear mass of the nice heavy weight of this one is any indication. I couldn't even fit it all in my mouth, but he can't be. This big. Surely, no real human being has one this fucking huge, and I can't believe she even thinks about trying to fit this inside her.

"SLRP! Huh!" But that's the fantasy, right? I mean, it's designed to fit a baby-head through, but I even wonder what else she's got in that big drawer full of toys.

She sure talks a lot. It's not like, nerdy. I wouldn't call her a geek, she's just so passionate about it, and it's a real turnon, but I can't be bothered to remember what all we said, when I'm getting sexy, and finally she's naked to come to bed so I can feel some hands on me, because my hands are doing all right, with the toys, but they're not enough.

"Gosh, you've got such nice perky tits!" I remember that, she said gosh. Not shyly, I geard her say god, and fuck, and tits for that matter. She likes tits. For a straight girl, but her career choice is basically looking at women, any woman, and figuring out how to make her beautiful. Me beautiful, I feel gorgeous, as her. Somehow she makes me feel as good looking as her, and it's not gay. It's beauty, beauty isn't even a female thing, plenty of beautiful guys, and her father.

"Smq!" Kissing my nipple. "Shlp. Pup!"

"You like that?"

"Sucking your tits?" She smiled.

"Hhn!" I closed my eyes, and, "Nh!" Popped out the vibe to run a couple more laps around my hot swollen clit until it tingled all the way up to the tips of my hair, and makes my toes curl up. "Hrnnn!" I just stretch, and slip it down some more.

"I love it, when guys do it."

I just rubbed the back of her head, so she bent down. Over to the other side, and sank her thumb in so it popped out on top so she could kiss it, too.


"Smch," and suck it hard like a hicky while the ridges sawed in and out of me as fast as my hand would go.

"Nh, hmhHhn!" I stretched, deliciously. "Hahn!"

She kissed me some more, and I felt her nails.

"Hhih!" My tummy jumped a little, then she reached my pubes, and scratched them. Lightly, but it still felt fantastic, while the vibe kept vibing deep inside, and I just rubbed my hip with my hand. And her back, her long, hard, almost muscular back. She's got kind of a boyish figure, especially in the hips. For a girl, she's not manly at all, but tall, and lean, and "Nhm!" I just nodded, biting my lip as the ridges popped, one by one out. Then back in. Then out, then "NGH!" She rubbed my wet clit aound with her thumb. "Ah fuck what a good little vibe."

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites. Too." Then his mouth covered mine, and he swirled his tongue in around and round, plunging in and out of me so fast.

"Mhmhmhmhmhmh!" Finally. I shuddered, and she let go. Let the deep vibrations do the work, and stopped kissing me, so I could try to breathe.

"Ohhhhhhhhhrhn! Huh!" I stretched, and twisted, feeling her nice sheets slip under my calf, and the side of my foot. The thin wrinckles under my ass, and bunching up in the small of my back. The pillow brushing my shoulders, and bunching up behind my neck. My head sinking in from my body arching up off the firm matress, and her long thin firm fingers playing up and down, all around my tummy, and sides, and thighs, and kissing the center of my chest.

"Ohh, god!" That was such a good one. "Pull it out, Nh!" I nodded, and caught my breath. "Hhihih!" She held me, kissed me, and I didn't drift off to sleep. But I thought about it. "Smq!"

"Snhhhhh! Huh!"


"Yeah," she looked so beautiful. I felt her face, even a little acne, on her jaw, and ran my thumb up her long firm shapr looking nose. Traced out over her eye, a little stubble where she shaved it, then wiped off her eyebrows, before she came to bed. Glanced back at her exquite sapphire eyes, and got stuck, a moment. "Smq."

"Smq, good." She grinned, "Cause now I'm horny as fuck, so you better make it up to me."

"Okay," I sat up.



"I think I am bisexual."

"Okay, lay down."

"Huh!" She brushed her hair up with her hands, and flopped it on the pillow. "Nobody's made me feel like this, ever before?"

I nodded, felt up and down her tight muscular abs. She relaxed, closed her eyes, and felt between my legs.

"Snh!" Just a swipe, up the middle once she felt my labia apart, then she held it up. "Snhh!" Smelled her middle finger, still wet from my satisfied sex, then tasted it. "Smp!" She nodded. "Yeah," she grinned, "Totally bi now."

"Well," I stirred my fingertips in the stubble of her pubes. "Good."

"Mhr!" She nodded.

"Wait till you come down. I know, how this fels the first time. I felt it too, but after I got a chance for my head to clear out. All that sex. Huh! Just wait and see, okay?"

"Yeah, . Yeah? Huh! Yeah. Okay, but I feel pretty bi for you, right now."


"Kiss me?"


"Huh!" she's not going to need much lube! Well, I looked over at her big toy. Maybe. "I knew this girl. First one I fooled around with. We're friends, then best friends, I let her seduce me, and then."

"You didn't have feelings for her?"

"I did, but. She got, huh! Scary. After years, she wanted me to run away and move in with her, then I broke up with her, and she started stalking me. She terrified me, and then she stopped."

"What happened?"

"I don't know, I never saw her again."

"Oh. Um, can you go get me something?"


She nodded, all the way across the room. Huge room, by the way, I've seen smaller apartments, lots of furniture too, but plenty of open space.

"The buttplug. The little red one?" Glad she said that, with 3 to chose from, but the smallest.

But remembering her, helped clear my head. I just have to remind myself, how bad it can get. Not my first straight girl, I've taught this. You don't have to be gay, or even bisexual to help eachother get off. "Yeah thanks." She handed me the lube, so I wet my fingers, and got it nice and slick. On her side, so she could feel back, down her already greased up crack.

"You like this?" Obviously, she asked for it, but how? How she wants it makes a difference in how you do it.

"Even better? Yeah, just. Nh! Ihn? Huh!" It's really rather small, not much bigger around than the vibe she used on me, but she snapped tight aorund the base.

"It's pretty." There's a little plastic jewel, in the. Well, on the butt.

"Ruby. Her name is ruby." She named her buttplug.

"Okay?" She just rolled back, left it in.

"Snh! It feels so much better." Rubbing her fingertips in, fast. "Huh!" And slapping it. 'huH!" A couple times. "Mrh!"

A little, kinky? It's okay, I've seen a lot kinkier.

"Um, you lick;" She looked up.

"Pussy?" What it's called. I just nodded. I don't like it, but I don't hate it. Another way I know I'm straight, but she wants it. She might even need it, and she just did me. So good.

"Snh!" Not too bad. "Slp?"

"Huh!" She got even redder. She's pale, but I watched her body, flush deeper, so quickly. "Hrhhhm!" She just felt herself up, but I watched her. From there, lapping about medium speed, but I do like this. Watching her, enjoy it. I'm really rather proud of my oral skills, even being a straight girl. Especially for a straight girl, I'm good at it. It's not easy, especially the first time, because every girl is different.

So, I like this part. The puzzle, figuring out what she likes, and how, so I slowly worked my way through the different ways. Vertical lapping? A nice flat brush up to her pubes, then swab around and round in the stubble with my tastebuds. Salty fresh sweat. Girl sweat, not at all like the harsh stink of stale mansweat.


"Hmmmm!" Her neck twisted, and her shoulders the other way. So yes, breath. It drives some girls crazy, others get distracted, and at least one was turned off, but I don't have to hold my breath.


"Ahauhn!" She humped.

"Whhhhhhw!" Blew it dry, with my fingertips to hold her open. Her wet little clit exposed.

"No, don't."

"Okay." So, not that. Trial, and error. "Ling? Lilith."

"Hah, yeah." Lick my lips, but I think I got the basics. A few yes, a couple no, or mehs. But not a whole lot of clit. Enough to suck out really, it's not tiny, but I can't even pinch the hood all that well. However, I can tug it out with her flaps. Wings, labia minora, but that's too dry, and with my lips wet too, they slip out. So, I split them with my thumb, and get one. "Lip!" Lap up the other. "Lip!"

"Huh!" she scratches her stubble. Oh, another tip: If she does it to you, it's probably because she tried it, and likes it. New one on me, don't Ever think you tried it all, but I can't realy reach, without covering up, and she can. But scratching pubes.

"You shave." Yeah, she knows.

"I like the stubble."

I nodded back, and went back down. She bumped my nose with the backs of her nails, when I dug it in and "SnhHhHhr!" Rubbed it back and forth in her stubble.

"Huhuh!" Yeah, she liked that. "Um, can you fuck me?"


I got up.

"Yeah, pull the plug." She got up. Bent over to wave it in front of me, but. "Ow!"

"Sorry." Felt the edge of my nail catch.

"Huh! She nodded, so her hair flopped. "Pull it. Nh, huh! Slow, hahH!" Such a loud sigh, of pleasure. It slipped shut, and clenched, sucked in and popped right back out. "Nh!" With her grunt.

I didn't draw blood, I couldn't even see where I scratched her, but I kissed it.

"Huh?" Her back arched up. "You like that?" Bony. Especially her spine, stretched tight as it is.

"Not really," and more than pussy. "Do you?"

"Yeah." Over by the drawer. "What do you want?"

"Deep purple."

"Okay," the darkest purple one, long thin and textured. Not realistic, but a lot of random raised lines snaking all around it I felt with my still tacky hand. I added more lube.




'hhHHK!" She held her breath, so I touched her, and wiped her wings away with the tip. Rubbed my hand down flat, to spread her with her cheeks, and she pushed back. Like a horse when you brush it's side. She put her head down, So I came around the side where I could see her face, and started working the tip in. No head, just a blunt rounded point, flaring out to the roughly penis sized shaft, but I didn't fuck her like a man.

Okay, guys tend to stick it in, and fuck away to a quick finish. Not all men, but there's a mode. Been with plenty of them too, and a lot of them caled me slut when they found it out. You want to get good at it? Pay attention, and practice practice practice. There's really no other secret. She said slow, but what men can't do, because it's attached to them, is wiggle, twist, and swirl it around, because hips don't do that. Get all the angles, and the twists help too. To get all the skin out of the way, instead of sliding right through, until I got to the girth, and the start of the raised details.

So, I fucked her like a girl with a toy.

"Hhh!" Slowly, straight back, but the bas relief handled all the twists, and turns for me. "Yeah, deeper. Nh!" I stoped. "No." She licked her lips, drooling, "Don't stop."

"But," I'm pretty sure, "That's your cervix."

"Yeah. Keep going."

"Okay," slowly, just a little presssure, then a little more, and harder.

"Nhuh!" She winced. "No, more." So, I pressed again, and again. Slowly fucked it deeper, but she moved. Slightly, just to get it straight on the tip, because I can't feel it. Just a firm slightly flexible rubbery hunk of some kind of plastic. I'm guessing silicone.

"Nh, nh, nheah, haaaaAAAHHH! NEAH!"

And then, the resistence went away. I blinked. I can't see it, or feel it, from here, but I just held it in. A moment, to let her get used to I'm going to say about an inch and 3 quarters, of diameter.

All the way in. Her cervix.

I can't imagine. "Hh, yeah, slp! Hh, nh." She nodded, "Naoh, fh. Fuuughahd! NeaAAAUH!"

It had to hurt. She just wanted more. I gave her, maybe a couple more inches, before I backed out, because I've hit an ovary before. It fucking hurts.

"Neah, fuck me, fuck it in, neah, auh, AUH!"

The ring of my thumb, and finger bumped her, and slipped, but I worked it in, and out, maybe a couple inches.

"Nh yeah, faster, faster, hauh HAAH!" I stopped, "Noh, more!"

Just to switch my grip, but I twisted gently.

"Nh! Fuck! yeah.' She sighed, so I started wiggling, and adding some twistis into the short quick thrusts. But mostly, because I saw her, pucker, and spasm.

I like it too, especially when my ass lights up from getting fucked.

"Ah got yes, lickmyass HUHN!"

I just held it, the point of my tongue, but pressed it deeper, and deeper, with continuing thrusts, twists, and wiggling to make her gasp, grunt, clench, pucker and spasm. And felt up, scrached her pubes, betting that. No, I knew, for pretty damned certain she was close, and that would push her over the edge.

'nghn!' She just spasmed, and whimpered, but her asshole went into overdive, sucking at my tongue. I could feel it in the toy, the hard rapid contraction, I think it bulged a little, or maybe like a low throbbing vibration. I couldn't tell, but I slipped it out.

"HuhuAH!" Then back in, and plunged her till she screamed.

"AHYEAYAYAYAYHYAhyha yeah yeah, yeah. Neah." Just lean her over. Gently set down her hip, and crawl on behind her. Hold her, feeling her shudder, and it dying down to shivers. Her quick shallow gasps getting deeper, longer, and farther between. Feeling up and down her side, her arm, around her belly, breasts, the top of her thigh until she stopped.

"How was that?"

She nodded.

'god,' her voice sounded tiny. Then breathless whisper. 'i never got fucked like that.'

"Good," I kissed her neck, and got up.

Happy for her. I'm sorry, I just can't describe the satisfaction of satisfying someone like that. And if more men would let me, I would do it for them, too.

That's why I don't have to be gay. To enjoy sex with women.



Basically ran out of space.  Sorry...

  • Guest
Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #10 on: September 25, 2017, 03:15:27 PM »
Stazzi (fm Sedu)

Okay, I officially have a weakness for Italians. It started as an attraction, then when in Rome. I did the Romans, they're just so romantic, and tanned, and hairy, and that accent!? Uhuhn! Then in Napels, then in Sicilia, then again in Barcelona, Madrid, and Cordova.

"Hihn!" And Spaniards. Different accents, same fucking problem. Latin men, there's less of a language barrier, but someone always speaks English, at least most of the places we went. So, I took a shower, a long hot steamy shower, to get her out of my hair, and. "Why did she have to be Italian?"

Italian men? Okay, not just Italian men. Maybe it's just her, but I'm now officially bisexual, and she's just. Not going to let me fall in love with her, is she? I know, I can tell, girls can tell. It was fun, she enjoyed it too, but she's straight, so just friends.

I do not want to just be friends. It's kind of heartbreaking, but I have to admit that, and try to keep it in mind. It's not easy, but she needs clean underwear, I need to think what to pack to continue this fashion show over there, and I'm just not ready for this whirlwind romance to end. She never promised me forever, or love, or any of the other things Latin men always do. She was honest about it from the start, she just had to get off, and now I really really need to not get my heart set on her.

Shake my head, "Italians" drying my hair. I hate to stereotype them, knowing full well what that sounds like, but at this point it's time to notice the pattern. They break my heart. It's not a 1 night stand, it never was, usually a weekend to weak. But they're like Kryptonite. They make me weak, fall in love, then break my heart.

It's almost like, coming home? After a long trip away, thank god the's still dressed when I come back, and she's got the new top on. So, I put on the matching one I got, over a bra for one. Layering, more to get through, before I fall into her and drown. I love it, every minute of it, just don't forget where we're headded.

She won't be mine, forever. They never are.

"Jesus, you save me any hot water?"

"No, sorry." It was a long shower.

"Huh! All right." I just busied myself stuffing my bags, with materials, my sewing kit, sketch book, colored pencils, and. "Uhm," That should do it. I think, but I can't think with her just standing there, watching me, and the stench of sex filling up my room. My whole room, she's driving me crazy, and I'm lauging all the way down the road!

Dad smirked in the garage, and looked at her. She looked at me, then back at him. Blushed, then he grinned.

"Dad?" It was a long shower.

"What? How could I say no?"


"Huh!" she got in back, and slouched. Wouldn't look at me, so I got in front.

See? Heartbreakers, every last one.

"You girls have a good time?"

"Did YOU!?" I punched him in the arm, hard as I could.

"HahaHey, I'm sorry. You're not usually so jealous, but I just went down to work it off in the weight room."

"Blake?" I turned back over the seat.

"Huh!" She nodded. "Well? I went down, to see if there was another shower."

"There's a pool, too."

"I know, I just. Didn't make it. To the pool."

"It just kinda happened."

"Well, it always just kinda happens with you, huh dad?"

"Honestly, you never had a problem with it before."

"No, I just got used to it, because you wouldn't stop!"

"What can I say, girls find me irresistable."

"Yeah, but there's lots and lots of girls. Why can't you ever let me have 1 friend, without, always fucking it up?"

"I'm sorry."

"I know," at least she looked up at me. With those big brown eyes, wet with tears, and streaming down her cheeks. "You said it would be all right."

"I," had to looking away. "I thought I would. Huh! Nh nh nhn nh!" And then she broke my heart. I knew she would, not even surprised how, but that doesn't make it any easier. "Hhihihih!" I fumbled the tissues out of the glovebox, and blew my nose before I wiped my eyes.

"Huh!" Then I checked my purse. Knew I wasn't remembering something. Makeup, so I had to make do with what little I had at the mall.

"Right here." I pointed. "See you later?" When he pulled up.

"No," I got out. "Grab the bags."

"You really want to hang out with me, after what I did to you?"

"Well," I got the tissues out of my purse, "Here." She wiped her eyes. "Huh! I sure don't want to go back home with dad." What he did to me. Again. "I don't blame you, really. Huh! I know, as well as anyone how hard he is to resist."

For anyone else, I'm not going to try to explain what it's like to grow up with a powerful man like that. She knows, so I don't have to. Ask Ivanka. Or Chelsea. That level of charm, and seductive Power. Bill, and Don aren't even as attractive, but weigh that against having the nicest Office in the country. Ask Monica. That's what they're like, my dad.

And, "Oh," My. God!

Smooch, Smooch. Cheek to cheek.

"And who is 'zis."



I look back, but dad already drove off.

"Huh!" I should have known this was a bad idea. I did, but I had no idea, how bad an idea, this was.

"I mus' say. Blake hahs brought some beautiful young ladies home, but I can not remember one as beautiful as zis."

I was in love. Instantly. Twice in 1 day. Damn it! Fucking Italians?

"What?" I shook my head, "Kind of accent is that?"

"German." I followed her in. "Dad, this is Stazzi."

"What?" That, expression changed. Back to that panty dripping heart throbbing grin, but I saw it. A glimpse of it, too fast to catch.

"Is nozink." I swear to god. "Just a coincidence, but I have, a little trouble, with Stazzi in Hahmburg."

"Uh!" That scoff, and the way she rolled her eyes told me shead heard this story too many times before.

"Who?" I shook my head.

"The East German Secret Police." She dropped my bag, and her purse. "I'm gonna go get a shower. You two have fun."

"Let me get that."

"Thanks!" I followed him back to her room, and set down my art bag.

"Wahs 'zis?"

"Some art supplies." I went back out, don't want to feel. Trapped, in a bedroom, alone with him.

"You are an artist?"

"And you are."

"A businessman."

"A ligitimate business?"

He shrugged. "Import, export?"

"German Secret Service. And Interpol?"

"You wan to hear?" This. Accent. I've been to Hamberg, I know the accent. I consider myself fairly well traveled. I sat down, and nodded. It's a mix, of German, and Italian, and even more intoxicating than either alone.

I just have to control myself, so "Yeah." Keep her talking, until she gets out of the shower.

"Well," He put his leg up, in pants, but I can't help but remember him in a spedo, tanned, with his arm around me to pose for the camera in a bikini against the backdrop of some random Greek island on the deck of a rented yaght.

Can't help but think the word Mafia. Nothing that bad, he made it sound more like a spy thriller. This is not helping my hot pants, one little bit. "So, I was bringing in some Art, from Berlin...."

How long could she stay in the shower, anyway? I looked around, "Mhm?" Nice condo, tasteful decor, a lot of Bauhaus, modern, a bit industrial chic from the stark angular polished metal of the banister, and cables holding up the stairs to the sleeping loft. "Yeah?" Fascinating, just tune him out so his voice doesn't shake my underpants right off, then float me up to the balcony, and his waiting bed. Just cross your legs, don't rub your thighs together. "You don't say."

"Are you feeling. All right?"


Thank god he got up. "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, a glass of wine, if you have any."

"I have a lovely Gervertztreminor chilled, or I could open a reizzling?"

"Huhhuh!" Okay, don't just slip down to wrythe on the floor like Wanda. Could you, just not. Say anything, quite so fucking German, like that? It's not helping! "The white?"

"The Reizzling then."

"Yes, that will be fine."

Try not to shake it out of the glass on the way to the couch.

Oh good, she came out, but went right to her room. In a towel, around her hair. God what a fantastic body. Yes, good. Just the distraction I needed. So, I took a sip. "Mh!" I nodded, got up. "I'm just going to. Check on her. Real quick."

He got out a pipe, waved me on, and a pouch of rich smelling tobbacco.

She was in bed. "You going to sleep?"

"Yeahuh!" She nodded. "Sorry, but I just started to crash in the shower. Um, you mind doing the fashion thing, tomorrow?"

Single bed.

"Um," I looked back. Shut the door. "Where will I sleep?"

"Well," she sat up. Still naked. "Huh! The couch isn't that comfortable." However gorgeous it may look, "So, if you like. You can sleep upstairs."

"What about." I turned back to her door. "Your father."

"It's all right." ... "I'm sure he won't mind." ... "Your company." I looked back. "Huh! I'm really sorry about, what happened back at your place."

"But he's your father!"

"Yeah," she grinned. "I know. I saw you looking at him, and." She waved, "Go on, get it out of your system."

I noticed something on the corner of her dresser. "You sure, you won't mind?"

"It's the least I can do, and I can tell we're not going to get anything accomplished with you so distracted."

"Huh." She's right. "You're right." So, I went back out.

"I'm zorry." He got up. "I won't bore you with old war storiz. Please." He took my hand, "Hava zeet." Gently lowered me back to the couch. "Tell me, a little about yourzelf.

"Well," I can talk about fashion all night. I'm not tired, and with the tension broken, I'm not even in any hurry.



A few words on Covert Incest:  First of all, the President can do it on national television.  So, the "Covert" part is basically that people don't like to think about it.  Sexual Harassment is "Not Rape" like, well, catcalling.  However, it has permanent psychological effects, what people call "Emotional scars." 

I never said that Mrs. Davenport was the only sex offender in the household.  It goes to Motive, "Anything you can do I can do better!"  ~E. Mermon.  Basically what Lucinda decided was she's lived with it enough that rather than expose her husband for sexually harassing their daughter, and seducing her friends, she might as well get some too.  And by some, I mean tweenage strange.  In case you're wondering why a teecher would do such a thing, IDFK, I just try to make it believable.

Again, Pathological Liar, but at some point, someone (That would be "Rich" Davenport) asks her direcctly how she came to be a serial sexual sadist.  (Anger Exitation, just too young to own her own Dungeon)  So, she made something up, lies throughout.  She just happens to be really good at figuring out some else's fetish set, and tailors the story to their needs.  Weaponized Empathy, it's how she does what she does.

So, that explains why this sounds like an impossible fantasy.  It is, His:


I thought she would look, well more like me.  I didn't recognize her, in the airport. She was too short, and skinny, and "Your fat."  She frowned.

"Uh!"  I looked around, but the cop just got back on the plane.  "Well, how old are you?"  When dad signed the paper, that's how I knew sh was her.  She was there with a cop, like a criminal.

"Thirteen, same as you."  Of course.

"Now girls, don't fight."

"Dad."  It was just so weird, and creepy. 

"Come on, lets get you home. You can get to know eachother in the car."

What if I don't want to? 

Maybe it's cause of the way she was raised.  Separated at birth, which is to say our mother kidnapped her, and ran away from dad.  Now she's in jail, and, my sister.  I didn't even know I had a sister, a twin, though obviously not identical.  She doesn't even look like me, at all.

"I thought you'd look more like.  You know, me?  Like looking in a mirror."

"I know!"  Exactly.  "Right?"

"Well, you're not identical twins."

"Obviously."  Dad.

"You don't even have your period?"

"Uh, Mira!"

"Uh, Vera!"

"It's Vira."  Rhymes with Mira, "Not Vaera."


"What?  You gonna stop the car and make us walk?  Go right on ahead."

"I know this is difficult for both of you, but you're going to have to get along."

"Okay!"  No, we don't.  Just because we're related don't mean nothing of the sort, but there's no use arguing with him.  He put his foot down, and I really don't want to get out and walk.  Even if it means she'll have to too.  "Huhmf!"  I crossed my arms, and sat back.

"Girls develop at different times," he explained, "Some girls start early, and some start late.  There's nothing wrong with that, any more than one of you being skinny, and the other.  A more, healthy.  Weight."

"See?" he thinks she's skinny too.

"It's not more healthy, she'd gonna get diabetes, and heart disease, and a stroke."

"No I'm NOT!"

"Ow, she hit me!"

"Girls!  Stop."  He shook his head, "Well, for one thing, a more healthy body weight is probably why she started puberty first.  As you know, you're both the same age, however if you look at the differences, the most likely one here is she had enough body fat to menstrate."


"Uh!  Gross."

"Your mom starved you."

"She's your mom too."

"Hah, right.  That's why she kidnapped you, and starved you.  No, my mom loves me."

"She loved me!  She didn't love you, you don't even knohohm nhnh!"

"That's why she went to jail, for kidnapping you."


"What dad."

"Leave her alone.  Can't you see she's upset?"

"Yeah, she's crying.  Like a little baby."  Good, what she gets for calling me fat.  I'm not fat, just because I'm not a boney little brat, with her head filled full of all those lies.  I'm glad, she didn't take me.  Yeah, I have no idea why she picked her, or didn't snatch us both away in the night.

"I'm hungry.  And she probably needs a sandwich."  I hugged her, "How's your blood sugar, feel a little low?"  Squeezed her shoulders.



"It's just my competition weight."  I wiped my mouth, and took a sip of soda.  "Our mommy didn't 'starve' me, I just have to stay light, for gymnastics."

"Oh," she frowned, "You're a gymnast?"

"Mhm?  I'm sorry I called you fat, you aren't really.  I was just homesick, and missed our mommy."  She kinda reminds me of her.

"Stop calling her that, she's your mom."

"Yours too.  Your biological mother, dad getting remarried doesn't change that."

"I never remarried."

"Why not?"

"Didn't get a chance to get divorced.  Your mother left, before we even got a chance to discus it."

He seems nice.  Which isn't what I expected.  I guess mommy was just bitter, but why didn't she even tell me I had a sister?

"You're really actually very pretty."

"Oh," she blushed, "You're just saying that."

"No, really.  I guess I was expecting you to look just like me, so it was a bit of a shock, but you truly have your own unique beauty."

"Well," she took a deep breath, "Huh!  Thanks."

She's just bigger than me, which is probably why she bullied me, to show who's boss.  I had to deal with that before, at school, on the team when I first started.  I kind of miss that too, having gymnastics to look forward to, and my friends, my old school.  "Huh!  So, what's your school like?"  Since I'm going to be going there.  Next fall.

"Idunno, it's cool?"



"It's a pun."  Her father looked back.  "It's cool.  It school."

"Mommy loved puns."

"So, you can do flips and stuff?"

"Backflips."  I nodded, "I'll show you when we stop next.  Actually, can we take a rest stop?"

"You need to potty?"

"Uh!  I'm not a child.  Dad."

"Well, you do say childish shit like mommy."


"Sorry dad."

"So?  I always called her mommy.  I'm not going to all of a sudden call her something different just because I hit puberty.  And yeah.  I hit puberty.  For your information, I did get my period, it's just that.  What with competition, it came late, and isn't as regular, just like your dad said."

"Here we are."

"Uh!"  I jumped out.  Turned a cartwheel off the curb, rounded it off on the grass, jumped and kicked over.  Looking back at the ground tucked in to release, and stick the landing.  Straightened up and spread my arms, turning on my heel, and toe, bowing to the invisible audience.



Rest Stop


"Uh!"  She giggled.  "Hihihihn!"

"What?"  I I wiped, "Girls shit too, you know."


"What, it's true."  Pulled up my underwear, and scooched my butt back into them.

"I know, I'm a girl too, but.  Hihihihn!"

I just shook my head, and washed my hands.

"It was just loud," she came out, "And I didn't want to talk about."  She blushed, and turned on the water.  "You know, stuff.  Like our periods?"

"Girls have periods, too."

"I know.  I'm a girl too.  I mean in front of your dad.

"Why not, he's your dad too."

"Well, because he's a man?"


"So, that's girl stuff."

"Look.  Dad knows too.  He hadn't met mom yet, so when I started, growing up.  I had no one else to talk to about it."

"Well, it's private."  She thought, "What's she like?"

"My mom?"

"Mhm?"  She tore off some paper towels.

"Well.  I don't know, she's like."  Think, drying my hands, shrug.  "Well, you're gonna be living with her, so you'll get a chance to meet her."

"He doesn't beat her."

"What?  No!  Why would you think that?"

"He beat up mommy.  That's why she left."

"No he didn't!  I'm sure she just said that, because."

"You want to see the pictures?  They're in the trunk, with my baggage, but she didn't just make it up.  She had bruises, and everything."

"Uh!"  I just shook my head, "She probably just ran into stuff.  Or hurt herself, to accuse him."


"Look, I know you don't want to believe me, but I know my own dad.  Our father, he's not like that.  She just probably said that, to poison you against him, because she hates men, but it isn't true.  He doesn't hit women."  I would know it if he did.

"Well, he never hit you?"

"Well?  Of course, he used to spank me, but that was just when I was bad.  I grew out of it."  I shrugged, "But it's not like he gets drunk, and beats on me and mom.  He's not like that, at all."

"Mommy doesn't hate men.  That's just something men say, to discredit."  She stopped.  Hesitated to think, then went on.  "Feminists."

"Well, you know.  They say that about lesbians."

"She's not a lesbian!  She dates men.  All the time."

"And other women?"  She turned away.  "It's okay, you can tell me."

"Yeah.  Maybe, once or twice.  That doesn't make her a man hating lesbian."

"Well, I'm sure she'll get plenty of pussy in jail now."

"Come on."  She pushed open the door.  "Uh!  We better go, before he comes to see what's keeping us."

"Can you do another flip?"

Walking across the grass, he was watching us.  Waiting in the car, but she giggled.  "I can't just do a flip.  Out here, in the grass, I need a spring floor, or something to get the rotation."

"I just saw you, do a flip.  When we got here?"  It wasn't even 10 minutes ago.

"I know.  Exactly, I have to get up rotations first, which is why I did a cartwheel."  She jumped, and flipped over her hands, "Uh, whup, huh!"  She landed, and I laughed, but she didn't do that Praise the Sun thing at the end.  "See?  You have to get going first, but I can do a standing backflip."

She jumped, and kicked her legs over.  "Uh!"  I got to the car first, and opened the door.

"Everything come out all right?"

"Uh, dad!"

"Come on, lets get you home."

"So," I buckled up.  "There's a difference between a flip, and a backflip?"

"Yeah, a front flip is impossible.  Without some assistance, like a springboard, or a tampoline, or something."

"Oh, but you can just do.  Uh, standing backflips?"

"Yeah, but you don't 'just do a backflip.'  It takes lots of practice."

"I bet, I can't do a backflip.  You think you could teach me?"

"Well, maybe.  But.  No offense, I'm sorry I called you fat, but you know about conservation of angular momentum?"

"That's where the mass of a rotating body rotates faster the closer the mass is to the center of rotation."

"Oh, dad." He's such a nerd.

"Yeah, he's right.  So, that's why I tuck up in a flip.  Or a figure skater pulls in her arms to spin faster, then holds them out to slow back down?"

"Oh," I nodded, "Uh huh?"

"Well, so that's why we have to diet, for competition weight.  So, you don't have to lose weight.  I ment it, you're pretty enough, just the way you are, but if you want to learn gymnastics.  Well, then you might have to lose weight.  A little, to learn how to do a backflip."

"Oh," I rubbed my tummy.  Thought about it.  "Maybe, it might be worth it."

"Well, don't do it because I said so.  Just to be able to turn backflips, if you like your body, then keep it.  it's not like backflips are really all that useful."

"It's cool though."



"Well, I'm glad you girls started getting along, instead of going at it like cats in heat in the back seat."

"Oh, dad."

"Yeah, and do you think you could stop it?"


"Saying stuff like 'Going at it, like cats in heat.'  It's not appropriate."

"Look young lady."

"No, you look.  Man, just because you're my father, technically, is not an excuse for you to say sexually suggestive stuff like that to me, and Mira.  It's inappropriate, and we're your daughters."

"I didn't mean anything by it.  I just didn't think about it.  The way it might of sounded, I didn't mean to insinuate, that.  I ment like cats in heat fight over the tomcat"

"Well, whether you ment to, or not.  That's no excuse, you don't have to try to be offensive.  You have to try not to."

"All right, sorry!  Jesus."

"Apology accepted."


We just rode, quietly for a while but.  You know, she was really kind of cool.  Just surprised me is all, I never heard anyone talk to him that way before, and god damn it if she wasn't right?  It was, inappropriate, and I just never called him on it before.  I even felt a little proud of her.

My little sister.  "Yeah," I hugged her.  "You're pretty cool."



Vera (fG Trig PTSD.  Also note, that while they're the same age, Vera is developmentally retarded.  Not mentally, obviously, but that's why they have different character codes.  In many ways, she's still very much like a little girl.}

"Oh," I dropped my bag, looked around.  "Where am I going to sleep?"

"Well, if you want the couch, I'm not going to stop you."

I looked back, but couldn't see the living room.  So, I closed the door.  "Huh!  I'm just used to having my own room."

"Me too?  All this was just a little sudden, so he didn't get a chance to get you your own bed.  Yet, I'm sure he will soon."

"Well," it's not, "Okay, but.  I guess we got a few hours, to decide."

"It folds out, the couch I mean.  It's not real comfortable, but it is a hideabed."

"Okay," I unzipped the rolling suitcase, "Here."  I got out the picture.  Of me and mom, at the hotel.  "See?"

I was just a baby, but even with the sunglasses, and her hair hanging over the side of her face.  You could see it, the bruise, and even a couple of knuckle marks.

His knuckles, and I don't know about living here, with him.  After all I heard about it.

"She looks happy."

I rubbed my arms, but she sat on the bed.  Turned, and set up the picture.  By her bed, propped up by the little flappy thing on the back of the frame.

Right under a picture of him, which made me uncomfortable.  Right next to each other, but it's not like they were in the picture, together.  They weren't even the same side, it was a closeup of his face.  Grinning, I guess it was a portrait, instead of the more candid picture of me, and mom.  Holding me, it just looked inappropriate.  With the bruises, and.

"Are you okay?"

"No."  I shivered.  "Huh, I'm just freaking out here."

"I know it's different, and you're probably feeling homesick, and you miss our mom."

"Well good."  I turned around, "Scoot over."  I don't know if I can share a bed with her, but just tonight I guess I can stand the couch. until he gets me my own bed.

She hugged me, and that's all it took to start crying.

"She kinda looks like Sarah Connor."


"Our mom."  She picked it up.  "You know, like the movie.  The Terminator?"

I shook my head, "Never watched it."

"Well, you'll like her.  Sarah Connor, she's a strong woman, like our mom."


"There there."

"Snh!" I wiped my eyes.  "I just miss her, so much."  And now I'm never going to see her again.

"Come on, let's go watch it."

"I don't really like robot movies."

"Well, actually he's a Cyborg.  Arnie?"  She nodded, "Yeah, he's a cybernetic organism.  That's what it's short for, it's like a robot, but covered in a biological skin."  She showed me.  The cover, at least he had skin.  Instead of looking like a metal skull, but one eye shone red, through the sun glasses, and he had 2 guns.

[Special Edition]  "It's not a scary movie?"

"Not really, like Alien?"  I saw that on the shelf too.  "It's more of an action movie."  She pulled out a disk, and put it back in the case.

"Is that a porn?"

She put it back.  "Uh huh?"  She shrugged.  "Dad's a grown man, so.  He looks at porn.  Nothing wrong with that."

"Yeahbut."  I read the cover, instead of looking at the pictures.  "[Little Lesbos?]"

"Never mind," she sat on the couch, "Come watch the movie."

It was, kind of scary, but she was right.  I did like this Sarah Connor.  I mean, she was being hunted by this scary robot from the future, but.  "We got all the movies.  You'll see, she gets stronger, and stronger throughout the franchise.  She doesn't look like mom, really, but whenever it got too scary, Mira hugged me, and I felt better. 

She does.  Mira, she looks like mom, a lot.  I guess it's good that Sarah Connor doesn't, that would just make me miss her more, but I saw what she ment.

Not in the face, it just remanded her of the picture, from the movie.  It doesn't look like that really, but I guess it was the part, at the end.  After she'd been through hell, and stopped to talk to her unborn son.  Then someone took her picture, the picture that somehow made it through the war, so he could remember her.


Mira (f Porn Solo.  Ff  Nude NS.  FM Exhi Cove Ince.  Sorry, it's complicated...)

"Hm?"  I guess we conked out.  "Snh!"

"Come on," she helped me up, "Let's get you two to bed."

Mom, she works late.  The bar she works at is, well.  You know, it's not 9 to 5, that's not when guys go out to drink.  So, she works late, it's not like she's sleeping around on dad.

"Uh!' She carried Vera to bed, so I guess that settled it.  "Yearh!"  I yawned, and got undressed.  Mom tucked her in, and I put on a nighty.  Hung up my bra, but she had on sweats.  Sweat pants, and a hoody, zipped up, and her hands were cold when she shook me on the couch.  It must have been cold, when she got off, but I slowly started drifting off, and then I remembered.

What I was dreaming, but I must have been half awake.

I remember her, snoring next to me.  Vera, in my bed, and I could hear her snoring half asleep.  It was hot, and uncomfortable, so I got up.

Whatever, it's just for one night, and she'll probably get her own bed tomorrow.  Ask me where we'll put it, it'll take a while to move dad's stuff out of the spare bedroom, or the office, but my room isn't really big enough for too beds, and we didn't really have time to get ready for her to come home.

My sister, my little sister, even if we're the same age, but she doesn't like guns.  Our mom, again, I can't really call her mommy like she does, but at the same time, having 2 moms to talk about is confusing, so that's why you have to say my mom, and your mom.  I never really got used to having a mom.

"Huh!"  I sat up, "Great."

Just when I'm starting to go back to sleep, she starts fucking dad in their bedroom.

"Well," as long as I have to hear it, I might as well get up, and watch a movie.  Got out [Little Lesbos] again, because I don't want to think about.  Dad, having sex.  "Ew." she's probably call it, "Gross."

I don't mind, 2 girls, or a girl, and a woman.  "Yeah."  There's this one scene, so I hit that one, on the way back to the couch.  It's not just teenagers, one's a teen and a woman, with big tits, not natural ones like my mom's, but I don't have to worry about it.  Maybe it'll help me relax, and something to do while I wait for them to get done in there.

I think I'm gay, anyway.  I don't know, I never had a boyfriend, nor a girlfriend really.  So, maybe bisexual, or bi curious, until I have a chance to try it out, or one of each, and see which i like better.  Like the choice, between the couch, or the bed.  It's old, we got it used, because dad saw it on the curb, and picked it up.  Our old couch didn't have a hideabed, either, but I really don't feel like getting up, and folding it out.  It's not comfortable, at all, but I can scoot out, and put my feet up on the coffee table.

My nighty rode up, or stayed back behind me, and scooting out made the fabric slip up my legs.

Just like her skirt, in the movie.  Only sitting up, next to her on the bed.  A big bed, but they didn't get naked right away, and even though they stopped.  Fucking, in the bedroom, I already got started, and now I'm horny, so I might as well finish what I started, but no hurry.

"Oh!"  My panties snapped shut, and I fumbled for the remote.  Turned it off, but, "Don't mind me."

Mom just went in the kitchen, and opened the fridge, but that killed the mood.  So, "Huh!"  I felt for the Power button, in the dark, and turned off the DVD too.

Clink!  I heard the beer cap from the kitchen, then another.  For dad, I guess, but she closed the door.  To the fridge, so thank god it was dark when she came back out.

Walked across the window, still naked.  Of course, it's not like she got dressed in the kitchen.  Just grabbed a couple beers, and went back to bed, with dad.

I don't like them.  Fake boobs, they look funny, and I don't want a girl.  With boobs like that, I'm not even sure I even want a girl, or boobs at all.

I have some, not a lot, but more than Vera.  It was just embarrassing, mom doesn't care, she walks around naked all the time, I'm just not used to it.  Living with a woman, having a mom at all, and now I have a sister too.  A little sister, sleeping in my bed like Goldilox, but that's not fair.

She's been through a lot, and I'm just jealous that i need to share now.  I just got used to having my own room, and never really appreciated that.  having some privacy until I lost it, and then my mom caught me, watching porn, and playing with myself.

"Huh!"  I'm still horny.

So, I better finish what I started, or I'll never fall back asleep.

Least I don't need the porn no more.


Vera (G Solo NS)

I woke up to that "Where am I?" feeling.  And fear, it went away when i realized I was in Mira's bed, in her room.  Alone, it was chilly, but I got up, and dug some clothes out of my suitcase.  "Huh!"  I need a bath, and my clothes from yesterday are sweaty from sleeping in them, but I guess I fell asleep on the couch.  She was nice enough to let me have the bed, I guess she just felt threatened, and I'm sorry I called her fat, but I told her that.

There sure was a lot of guns, in the movie. 

I saw her underwear, even her boobs when she took off her bra, and put on her nighty.  Maybe I should give up Gymnastics, and get up to a healthy weight.  I am kind of small, and skinny, and I can still do flips, and stuff.  I just can't compete, but you know, seeing her in her undies last night, I guess I might even be a little jealous.

I mean she's the same age, like the exact same age, or even a few minutes younger, technically, but we have the same birthday, and being so light stunted my growth.  I just never really cared about it before, gymnastics is fun, and all my friends were doing it, but I'm never going to see them again, and now I have her to hang out with.  I wonder if she has any friends?

She's not really, that mean.  I was mean too, we're just upset, and fought for a little while.  We got off on the wrong foot, but now we're starting to get along, and she really does look so much like mommy, only younger. 

She really never saw a picture of her before?  "Huh!"]



Of course, "Mommy" at this point is Mrs. Davenport.  I'm not going to tell you how to sexually mindhack someone through their subconscious fantasies, but good luck finding another with this particular Fetish Set.
« Last Edit: September 25, 2017, 04:53:06 PM by Psiberzerker »

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Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #11 on: September 25, 2017, 05:42:50 PM »

This mindhacking thing depends on Feedback.  Trial/eror, so the first draft had to be refined, as she gets feedback from their therapy (Torture) sessions.  This is basically a whole 'nother fantasy, based on reactions from the first one, but a major escalation for her.   Xtacy basically started with her (Twin) sister.  "Oh, she sexually abused me!"  Yeah, the evil twin claims to be the good twin, then shipped her sister off to a psyche ward when she crushed her psyche out of jealousy.  Broke the mirror, still haven't even started with why yet, but as she escalates, she gains more confidence.  And experience, to move onto older girls, boys, older boys, her teacher, her teacher's entire family, and finally an Adult Male.  She basically has something to prove:  That she can manipulate anyone, that is her sexuality.  Intellectual abuser "Actually."  Only instead of cosplaying Stranger Danger:

Have you seen this man?  Last seen lecturing girls on the subconscious message of dressing like a "Slut."  Because teenage girls obviously don't understand Fashion as well as a 23 year old virgin who cosplays as The Archetypic Creeper from our childhood school assemblies to reassure girls that #NotAllMen are creepers.  You get it?  She's an MRA in drag.  The nitemare of a Feminazi SJW that looks like a cute little 14 year old girl, friendzones her boyfriend, "Cucks" him, and sluts it up with anyone she can jump into bed with.

Basically, that nightmare's worse nightmare.  A sexual terrorist that looks like a victim.  (Kinda like a virgin that subconciously wears a trilby, pops his collar, and peers mysteriously under the brim to hide the fact that he's a Rapist waiting for an Opportunity.  "You can trust me, can I buy you a drink?  Totally doesn't have any rohypnol in it, I promise...")



I cut the video, when Sloane comes in.

"It's okay, I already watched it."

"Isn't that a little, adult for you?"

"No?"  Shaking her head, "I'm a teenager, and I do it too."

"Yes, but.  While thirteen is technically a teen age."  Why would she want to watch me with her father?

"So?  That's just a law, to make sure that the immature kids are safe.  I'm not like them, I wasn't sheltered from stuff like that, and you're really good."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, way better than any of his other girlfriends."

Feeling the rings, I glance down at the Rock.  Holding it up, Mrs. Florence Peters, a sign that he finally made an honest woman out of me.

"Well, most of them are strippers, anyway."

"Well, I'm an exotic dancer."

"I know, exactly."

"You know the difference?"

"Of course!  What with the work he does, he says it's like a stripper plus.  All you need to be a stripper is a great body,' and you got that, but you make the big bucks because you're also an acrobat, and an artist."

"It's just a little amazing, to hear you appreciate my.  Work, so young."

"I know, PG 13, but again that's for parents that want to shelter their children, instead of encourage my potential.  So, it's like being gifted, compared to the other girls."

She leans over my shoulder to take the mouse, hits Alt-Tab, and goes back to the directory.  "You want to see some of mine?"

"Videos?"  She scrolls down.  "You collect them too?"

"Yeah." she clicks the [View] tab at the top, scrolls down from Date to Type, so the Folders are at the top.

"Here."  I roll out the side, so she can reach the keyboard better.


[Sloan's]  "This is my best one."

"Huh!"  She's taking off her clothes, of course, but.  "How old were you?"

"Oh, this was last year, so."  She shrugs, "12, I guess."  Nodding.  "Watch.  That's my ex, Sarah."

"How old is she?"

"Eighteen?"  She nodded, "Yeah, she had her birthday, it was her eighteenth birthday party."

The view changed.

"You set up cameras."

"Yeah."  In the speakers, "That's great, honey.  You're going to be a star."

She smiled at the camera.

"This is childporn."

Giggling, "Well, it's not like he shows anyone it."  Posts it on his site, I was just watching what we took, from our honeymoon, before he uploads it.

"Who's he?"

"You know dad.  Don't you recognize his voice?"

"Hhuh!"  That sigh, "Yeah, that's great, sweety."

"He tapes it?"

"It's good practice."

"Yes, but it's childporn, and you're his daughter?"

"I knowW!  Hihin!  It's okay, he doesn't trust me alone with boys.  You know how boys are, some of them can't control themselves, so it's safer that way.  He just doesn't want me getting hurt again."

"HhuhH!  Yeah."  Kissing her breast.  "I'm bisexual, but they won't try anything, with him there."

"So, he watches you every time you had sex"

"Of course not.  Just with boys, but he tapes it for evidence, in case anything goes wrong.  He doesn't worry if it's just another girl."

Switching cameras again, when it starts to shake, and the distinctive patting sounds get softer.  Farther from the camera, still out of view.

"Yeah, but he's masturbating?"

"It helps him concentrate?"

"Yes, but isn't it a little, perverse?"

"I don't mind.  Ooh, watch this part!"

"Huh, I'm gonna go take a shower."

I'm not a prude.  Obviously, but I can't just blame it on my Christian upbringing.  I agree, up to a certain point that sheltering teenagers just ensures that they're completely ignorant of sex.  How to do it safely, and opens the door for sexist abuses, like body shaming, and the concept of a "Slut."

They're just afraid that a woman might enjoy sex, as much as a man.  There are no male sluts, men can have as much sex as they want, and that's normal, but a woman with the same sexual freedom is amoral.  How a man is expected to have sex, without women who're willing is.  Well, the answer is abusing unwilling women, but they won't say that.

Don't be a slut, be a man, and have sex, but.  I suppose the answer is be a man, nothing else is socially acceptible, but it has been a long time since I have seen anything that disgusted me.

I feel dirty, just watching that.  It doesn't bother her, she showed me, and of course I had sex when I was that young.  Or some, sexual, activity, but not in front of my father, and he certainly wouldn't masturbate right in front of me, and film it to make me feel safer.

Maybe that's it  My relationship with my father is strained, and of course I'm not jealous.  It would have been nice to have more freedom, when I was discovering my sexuality, but there has to be a happy medium between being denied completely, and being encouraged to.

He's going to make me a star!  He said that, of course, and I appreciate that, not that I married him on the promise of fame, and fortune, but she's so good at it.

That's it!  She was twelve, but she worked the camera, without looking at it, but she did once.  Not at it, the viewer, but her father, for approval

"Yeah, honey.  That's great."


I feel sick, almost physically ill.  I suppose there's no better place to throw up in the shower, but I had thought that there was nothing that could disgust me any more.  That I was past all that, inhibition, and who am I to judge, but I don't just feel dirty.  I feel nauseous, like throwing up would make me feel any better than this water will wash off this dirty feeling that's still making my skin crawl.

I don't want to be naked any more, now I just want to lock the door, turn off all the lights, and curl up in the covers.  I'm crying, and I feel so exposed, all alone, as if he'd done it to me, when her reaction was.

Like no reaction at all.

She shrugged.

It's normal for her.

No, it's sick, it's even sick for me, when I have done everything I could to wipe all of those inhibitions out of my life.  It's empowering for me, then why wouldn't it be for her?  Just because she's barely a teen, it's only 5 years, but she worked the camera like a pro.  Better than some pros who have been acting professionally for years, meaning that wasn't her first one.  

Her first video, she just called it her best.

I even got into it, could almost imagine the guy sitting at his computer.  Imagining himself there, watching the girls have sex until she told me the truth.

He's her father!  How could he?  How could she be so blase` about it, no she was proud!  Treating me as a peer, one performer to another critiquing each other's performances, but it's not just that she was twelve.  I'm not her peer, she's my step-daughter!  I married her father, and now I almost feel as if I'm only just now discovering this too late.

He said that I understand him.  I do, but that's what he loves about me, none of the other women in his life understands him the way I do, even his wife, but his daughter  She's not a woman, not quite a little girl any more, and even when she was twelve, there are professional actresses like Kitty Jung, and Anne Howe that look even younger, and Anne is even older than me, but there's still something so wrong about her being so good at it.

He said he would make me a star, just like his daughter.

He made her a porn star, when she was twelve?

Nothing has ever turned me off, in years, but nothing could ever turn me off like this.

I think I will throw up.

It can't just be morning sickness, it's far too early for that.  I'm just not used to feeling like this, about anything any more, but I vaguely remember it.



"Huh!"  She came back in.  "Can we talk?"

"Sure," I swiveled around, "What's up?"

"Turn that off."

"Oh," I turned back, "Kay?"  
  • ed it out.  "Are you all right?"  

She rubbed her tummy.  "I'm pregnant."

I laughed, "Well, that was quick!  Oh, it's okay, I'm sorry.  Your first time?"

"Why don't we go talk in your."  She shook her head, "In the living room."  She nodded.

"Oh, kay?"  I followed her down the hall.  "What's this about?"  She's starting to freak me out.

"Huh!"  She collapsed on the couch, "It's about your relationship, with your father."

"Well, I know it takes a little getting used to, but how can I help?"

"Well,"  she thought a moment, "Huh!  you don't think it's at all inappropriate."

"What?  The videos?  Uh, I just explained that!  I know, what he does for a living, but he's open and honest about that, and you have to admit he's good at it."

"Yes, however I'm worried that it's having a bad influence on you."

"How so?"

"Well, for instance."  


"Uh huh?"

"Well, it could affect your sexuality, for the rest of your life."

"Yeah, but in a good way.  I'm a teenager, I have a healthy sexuality for a teenager."

"Yeah, but appearing in childporn when you're twelve can't be good for you."

"Why not?  And it's not childporn, I told you that, he didn't show it to anyone else, but I decided to share it with you, because I thought you of all people might understand."

"Yeahbut, he gets off on it."

"Yeah, he's a voyeur?  You knew that, even before you met him.  You're an exhibitionist, and so am I."

"Yes, however I decided to empower myself sexually because of my father, and you.  Wait, did he tell you how we met?"

"Not really, he respects your privacy, and I didn't ask, but I figured it out? No big secret, all he told me was he met someone.  That night, I knew he and momma Sophie went to the new burlesque, and when he came back, he told me he met you there.  Then you started going out, so it wasn't that hard to put two and two together."

"I know you're bright and mature for your age, but don't you think you're going a little too fast?"

"How so?"

"Well, how old where you when you started?"

"Having sex?"

She nodded "Making videos."

"Well, we always had home movies, he's a shutterbug too you know, but you mean ones with sexual content?  Oh, I don't know.  Let me think.  I guess I can check the archive, hang on a sec, and let me look it up."

I got out the laptop.

"Well, how about a ballpark."

"Can you hand me that cable?"  I checked the battery, full.  "No, the Ethernet.  It's on the LAN."

I plugged it in.

"How young?"

"Well, my first boyfriend, boyfriend.  We were living in Manassas, and.  Oh, hang on a sec."

[Files/Network/UNAS/Uploads/Movies/Family/]  Double click by Date, so it's oldest first, and scroll through.  

"Um," chewed my lip, "So that was still Mom.  My mom, I mean, they were still married, and I was in therapy.  That's where we met."

"Therapy for what?"

"Oh, here it is."  I checked the date, "Math," shook my head, "So, I guess I had to be 7."  I nodded.  Hadn't watched this in years, so I started it, and turned the sound off.  "Oh!"  it's been so long, all of a sudden I missed her.

"What where you in therapy for?"

"Well, mom and dad where fighting.  Huh!  This was before he knew about monogamy, and polygamy, so he was still struggling with the social stigma about his sexuality."  I nodded, "You see, so he was trying to make it work, and that's why they broke up.  Then, she killed herself, so I went to live with him in Mertyl, but by then he was much better."

"Mertly was his second wife."

"No, Mertyl Beach?  South Carolina.  He was still single, but dating."

"But this was before that."

"Oh yeah.  So anyway, I met this boy, a 6 grader, and I guess he was my first crush, but then he took me to this party with all his friends, and I got naked, and he passed me around, so then he broke up with me."


"Sorry, I know this is difficult."

"How can you just, talk about gang rape, like it's nothing?"

"Oh, hahaha!  They didn't rape me, 11, and 12 year olds, moslty.  They could barely all get it up.  I just gave them hand jobs, and blowjobs."  I nodded.

"But still!  That doesn't bother you at all?"

"Why should it?  You do stuff like that all the time."  I've seen the videos.

"Hang on."  She grabbed the trashcan.  I held my nose.  "Stp!"   She pulled out a kleenex, wiped her mouth, then blew her nose.

"Morning sickness?  You don't look pregnant at all."

"It's still the first 2 months, far too early for morning sickness."

"You haven't been drinking.  You know, in your condition?"

"No, it's not that."

"Maybe something you ate?"

"Look, it's sick, okay?  It's not healthy for you to talk about gangbangs with 12 year olds when you're 7!"

"Really?  Oh, kay?"  I got up.


"I thought you would understand better."


"Look, I don't want to be in here with you, and your puke, so you want to go throw that out?  I need some fresh air."

I grabbed my pack, and sat out on my window sill.



"You gonna give me shit about smoking now too?"

"No, I'm sorry.  Really I am, but you said yourself that this isn't easy to understand, so it may take some time."

"Yeah, my therapists told me that too." Take another drag.  "You might want to talk to her, she could help."

"Does she know about, All of this?"

"The videos?"  I nodded, "She doesn't watch them, or anything, but she knows I made some."

She sat on my bed, so I scooched over.  

"Whew!  I'm used to it."  Shrug, "This happens every time he gets married, just part of getting to know my new mom."  I learned not to get attached.  He doesn't, he's just addicted to the romance.  "If it weren't for them wanting to get married, it'd save him a lot of money on weddings, and rings."  Sure is proud of that.  Shackle on her finger.  Put a pretty rock on it, and they get blinded by the sparcles, like some schoolgirl, and her vampy boyfriend.  "Whew!  I need a joint."

"Oh, you got any?"

"In my dresser?  Top drawer."

"Next to the vibrator?"

"No, the other side.  You gonna give me shit about that, too?"

"I know it's hard for you to believe, but I was a teenager once too."

"What, like last year?"

"No, I'm 26."

"Oh?"  Kay.  "Well, you're in great shape."

"I used to have to borrow my friend's, my mother didn't have one.  My father didn't even have magazines, cut out the underwear ads from the catalogs, and burned them in the fireplace."

"Hihihn!  Seriously?"


"What was he, Catholic?"

"No, he's a Presbetyrian.  Minister, he's a Deacon now."

"Oh."  I nodded, "That's got to suck, but you turned out all right."

"Yes, eventually.  I made a lot of mistakes, when I was young.  I didn't know what I was doing, being so sheltered, and a lot of boys took advantage of me for it.  So, believe it or not, I do understand where you're coming from."

"Well, I like the videos.  They help me remember.  All of them, every single one I ever loved, and no I'm not going to stop just because people judge me for it."

"Oh, I don't judge you.  I never judged nor blamed you for any of it.  I'm just worried about your father."

"A little late now."

"We can always get a divorce."  She laughed, so I knew it was a joke.

"And an abortion?"

"Well, I don't know about that."


"Yeah.  But, I guess I should.  Think about it."


"I'm starting to think he's not the sort of father, I thought he was."

I shrugged.  "Some girls can't take it.  Can I light it?"

"Your pot."  I twisted it, between my fingertips.  "Nice one.  You're gonna have to teach me how to roll one like this."

Before she leaves, too.

"Huh!"  I turned around, and put my hands up.  On her shoulders, to steady on, but then my hands slipped down.


"Mhn?"  I smiled, biting my lip.

"What are you doing?"

"Feeling you up?"  Who knows how long I'll have a chance.  "Huh!  You really have a terrific body."

"Do you think, this is appropriate?"  She didn't stop me.

"I don't care," I'm sure he won't mind.  So, I kissed her and she layed down.

"Smooch!  It'll make you feel metter, huh!"  I kissed her neck, "I promise."


She started getting hot.



I just got off, and came home to check the surveillance video, when I saw them.  Together, fortunately my little girl was away at school, so I had to confront her.



"Could you come in here?"

I paused it, on a frame where you could see both of their faces.  Together, on my daughter's bed, I switched to that camera.

"What's this?"

"Well, I would think that's obvious."  She stopped unbuttoning her blouse.

"You fucked my daughter?"

"I thought you wouldn't get jealous."

"I'm not jealous, but she's My daughter!"

"I know, and what's with you jerking off watching her?"

"Don't make this about me, you're a child molester?"

"Uh!  Of course not, she came onto me, and I didn't kick her out of bed."

"What where you doing in her bed in the first place?"

"Well, we were just watching some home movies, and one thing lead to another."

"Well, you better not let it happen again."

"You said you wouldn't get jealous, wrote it into our wedding vows yourself, remember that?"

"I'm not jealous!  Stop saying that, and is that why you did this, that to me."  I pointed,  "To make me jealous?"

"No, of course not.  You know she's an attractive young lady, as well as anyone, and she's bisexual, and I'm bisexual, and what with all the sexual tension around here, we both got horny and without you around, we just had to deal with it."

"I want a divorce."

"Well that was quick!  There's something you should know first, I'm pregnant."

"Uh!  Oh, honey, that's wonderful news!"  I hugged her.

"I know, I always wanted to be a mother.  A real mother, not just playing step mom for some other woman's daughter, but I always wanted to have children of my very own, you know that."

"Well, I had hoped you would get along with her, better than she did with my exes, but.  Huh!  I'm sorry, it was just so unexpected, and I got upset."

"I forgive you."  She finished unbuttoning her blouse.  "But, if you wanted to make it up to me."  Stepped back, and let it slip back from her beautiful natural C cups, then turned around.  Looking back, over her shoulder.  "You want to help me,"  Slipped the strap off her shoulder, "Get it off?"  Winked, ginning, and looked away.  Started walking, so the straps slipped from my fingers, and stepped out of her shoes.

Teasing me, just the way she knows I like it.  "I love her.  And she love me too."


"Who else were we just talking about?  You have a great daughter there, she's very talented."  She stopped, at her door.  "You have the key for his?"  Biting her lip.

"Of course," I got them out.

"Huh!  How many cameras do you have around here, anyway?"

"I don't know."  I started putting them back in my pocket.  "I could look it up."

"Later," she took them, and pushed me in her room.  "Get on the bed."

"Now honey."

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you, get on the bed, Now!"

"Yes dear."

She relaxed, nodded, and let her fists slip down her hips.  Unzipped her skirt, to shimmy out of it, so her nice full natural breasts shook, and I could just imagine them, becoming even fuller.  With milk, to feed our children, and hanging over my face.

"Ah!" she slapped me?  "What's gotten into you?"

"Shut your mouth."  She held it.  "Shut your lying cheating mouth, slut."

"Mhm!"  I nodded, my heart starting to beat out of my chest.

I never got to see this side of her before.  Personally, up close, and personal.  Sure, up on stage, but I thought it was all an act.  I'm not an actor.  A film maker, and director, but I could play the role.  

I've done it before, so if she want's to play at dominating me.  "Okay."  Fine.  It's the sort of thing, in a marriage that keeps it from getting to old, and stale in the sack.  She can still surprise me, for years to cum, I always wanted to settle down, with the right woman, and I had hoped that she could be the one.

It's good for Sloane, she needs a more stable home, especially now that she's a teenager, and I can't help but remember, seeing them together.  

She just surprised me, but now it's not such an unpleasant surprise.

"Lay down, sweetheart."

"Huh!"  Right here, on her bed, where she had lay her down, I'm proud of her.  I'm almost sorry I couldn't be there to see it, live.  She really is more of a live performer, for an audience, and she's learning how to work the camera.  I turned.  "Uh, oh god, honey!"

"Smhr!"  She turned her head, dragged her nose over my chest, and seized my other nipple in her mouth.

"Oh, fuck!"

Her teeth, it slipped out, and snapped back.

"Ah fuck!"

"Patience."  She patted my crotch, through my pants, and stood up.  Pulled out my belt, and doubled it over.  "Turn over, hands behind you."


"Now!  I gave you an order, and you Will obey Me!"

"Don't hurt me!"

"Huh!'  Her breasts on my back.  Her breath on the side of my face, I don't like bondage, the way it  feels, she knows that.  Running it up my arm, so I shivered.

'now, I'm going to use this on you.'  she bit my ear lobe, gently, but pulled it out, so it popped out.  'you're lucky you have a choice.  whether i use it to bind you, or beat you.'

I swallowed, nodded.

"So." she stood up, holding my hands.  I felt so helpless, I hate this, helpless feeling, powerless, the loss of control, she knows that, I told her.

'hurt me.'

"What's that?"

I forced myself to say, 'i want you to hurt me.'


"Uhn!  Hhuhuh!"  I'm crying!  

"Say it.  Tell me what you want."

"Hurt me!"  It's better than being tied up.  "UHN!"


"NYEAHS!  Uhn!"

I'm at her mercy.]

« Last Edit: September 25, 2017, 05:53:35 PM by Psiberzerker »

  • Guest
Re: Sin Detension (Twin)
« Reply #12 on: September 27, 2017, 10:37:55 AM »
Again, this is a fictionalization, seriously lying as part of the sexual conditioning of Wynona Davenport.  Pathological liar, she's basically incapable of telling the truth.  Why she started with "I'm not a sadist!"

Don't You Believe It!



"Hhhhh!"  I forced myself to calm down.  "Whhhhhh."

Laying back, at home.  In bed, waiting for her to come back, in.  Find me there, 'sleeping.'

I'd gotten what I wanted, over and over again, 3 times just today, and it got me through school, but now, it was her turn.

Her fantasy, catching me napping.

Fast asleep.  "WhHhHhHh!"  I shivered, despite myself, and felt my bra.  Tight against my nipples, the skin standing up under my blouse, and the tiny bumps.  Almost too small too see, but I felt them, racing up my chest, and over my shoulders.

Not cold, at all.  Even with the air condition kicking in, it's not hot in here, it's just me.

"Huhh!"  I freeze, anyway.  At her breath, tensing in anticipation of her touch.  On my sleeve, gently brushing it up with her fingertips, and even giving it a shake.

'mira?'  Whisper, then a little harder.  So my chest wiggles a little, and I force myself to keep breathing.

'hihhhh?  Huhhhh...'

'hihihn!'  Quiet giggle to herself.

She's know I'm wide awake, just acting.  Playing a part, because that's the fantasy.  Molesting her sister, in my sleep.  Gently, playfully brushing cirles around and around, I dare to crack my eyes, enough to see her.  Biting her lip, shallow sniffs flaring her nose, but eyes on my chest.  

I hold back a grin of my own, and sniff.

"Snh? Hm."  Tease her, turning away, and pretending to snore.  'snhkhkhkhkhkh...'

Quietly, she recorded me, sleeping.  To prove me wrong, I do so snore, but I never heard it myself, of course.  In my sleep next to her.  Feel the bed tilt, a little with her weight, her hand firm on my hip, then playing up my side.  Tugging out my blouse, and slipping her hand under it.

"Snh, hhhhh, khkhkh?   Huhhhh!"

Caressing my belly, pushing it out to bugle against her palm.  Her fingers splayed to grope it, and it's most swollen, I let the breath out.  

'huhhHhHhH!"  Let out a supressed shiver, but she's tickling her fingertips over my ribs.  Pulling out the back of my shirt, to feel up my spine, and now the goosebumps are really rippling up the back of my neck.  The hairs standing out on my forearm, draped over her elbow, resting on my nuckles.  "Snh?  Khm!  Khkhkhkhkh!"

I scooched a little, cheating to slip my hand between my legs.  Press the edge of my pinky in, against the seam, and split myself open.  Feel it through my boxer shorts, catching the tips of my pubes, so they twist, and roll, twirling the roots deep inside my skin.  "Hmn!  HihHhHhH!  Hhhhhkhkhkhkh...'


"Mhm?"  Nod.  "Huh!"  Pinching my draw strap, so it pulls up my top tip, then it let go.  "Huh!"  She felt down, the welt dug into my back.  The fat on the side, and wiggling her finger under me.  Pressing them into the side of my shirt, the blanket, mattress.

'you're really hot.'

"Yeah, sh!"  I wiped.  "And wet."  Lifted my thigh to turn my hand, and press my fingertips in.  Deeper.

"Smquh!"  She kissed my neck, and her breath blew out, of her nose, loud on my ear before her lips found the lobe.  To suck it in, pinch it, and bite harder, and harder.

"NHMMMH!"  I shook my head, and hugged her arm.  Under me, gripping my tit, harder and harder to make the nipple bulge out, and pinched it.  I turned, to bite the pillow.  "MWRHHHH!"

I don't like the pain.  She knows that, why she likes to hurt me.  "NYEEEEAAIGH!"  She let go, "Huh huh huh!"  When she got what she wanted.

She made me scream.

"Move your hand."

"No," I shook my head.


"Pph!  Please?  NYHHHAAIIIGH!"

"Girls!"  The door slammed open.

"DaAad!"  I sat up.  "Get out, give us some fucking Privacy!"

"No, god damn it, you're making it impossible!  I still have to work, right next door, you know that!"

"Then get out!  Get another office, and give me my own ROOM back!'  I got up.

"Mira," he put his hands up.

"Don't you MIRah!"

I pushed him, "Me."  Raised my fist, "You!"  Smacked his face with my finger, "You're the one who made me like this, you!"  I smacked him, "You sick fucker."

"I said, STOP!"

He hit me.

I fell down.  Theatrically, it wasn't really that hard.  "Huhuh."  I pushed up, "NyeahehihiahaHA!"

'you're sick!'

He backed down the hall, "You're both, insane!"  

Slammed the door, then Vera stormed down the hall.

Beat on the door.  "You better be packing it up in there, mister!  Shut it down, NOW!  Get your computer, your files, your dirty little pictures out of My room.  Tonight, or tell the cops about it when they show up."

She stopped, grinned, and waved me up.  I joined her, listening to the door.

"Uh uh uh uh!"

To him sobbing.

"Come on," she pulled the back of my shirt.  "Lets go back to bed."

"Yeash!  Huh!"

Now, I was horny too.

It went exactly like we planned.]


Also part of the covert incest/seduction of Wynnie's mother and father.  This is basically how she does it, through fantasy/role play.