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Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} REP -Goth's Not Slut(my day at the beach) by she_cries (M+F/mmmF/nc/rape/humil/exhib/inter/ws? )
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Originally posted in August 1999.  Been getting a lot of requests for more
work due to my recent story "Breaking in Teacher."  I really appreciate the
comments.  It's nice to know that I can share a little, uhh...  love!  Yes,
a little love with the world :)

When I first posted it, I neglected to run a spell-checker, a point which
has nagged me for some time.  I also have made the occassional grammatical
correction over the last couple years, whenever I get the urge to peruse it
(yes, I can frig myself and edit text at the same time, and if you think
that's weird you should try me in bed sometime).  Otherwise it is exactly
the same as it was when I first published it, in its entirety.



 Goth's Not Slut  (my day at the beach)

by she_cries@hotmail.com

This is something of a dramatized version of something that happened to me
in the Summer of 1990, when I was 20.  It certainly didn't all happen to me
like it was written, but many of the experiences were exactly as I describe,
to a point, that is.  I found that by pushing things to the furthest limit
of my imagination it was easier to write about my experiences, and what had
been something of a therapeutic exploration of a very traumatic few days in
Santa Cruz became, well, what you see.



I'll leave it for whoever reads this to guess what happened to me and what
didn't.  I'd love to hear from people just what sounds plausible and what
sounds fantastical so I can begin to understand whether or not events that
were so unbelievable to me at the time are something that men and women
understand happens.



Maybe some day I'll rewrite this story so that it reflects more accurately
what happened to me, but for now the shrouds of hyperbole and the omission
of certain things I can hardly even begin to think about nine years later
are necessary buffers.  I've tried to avoid sounding ludicrous, though I
have also done my best to make this out to read like other erotic stories
rather than another depressing testimonial of rape victims, so I hope with a
 little feedback to find equilibrium.  All of the incidents, however, either
happened to me, in one way or another, or reflect stories that I heard other
women tell while I was attending support groups.



At the very least I hope that if some of the men who read this have ever
found themselves in a similar situation (or god forbid were part of that
horrible vacation) will think twice before letting themselves get carried
away with what appears to be a willing woman.



The most important thing I have learned in my group meeting is that there is
no such thing as a slut.  There are just some very insecure women out there.
I'm one of them.









                I picked what looked like a black one-piece bathing suit out
of a table of discount items, but it had a neon pink stripe, almost an
arrow, running down the front to the crotch.  It looked like one of those
suits designed to make girls tits stand out more.  I never wear color, my
whole wardrobe is black, but I didn't care about that, since I didn't plan
on wearing this in front of anyone.

                Mickey, my fiancé, had taken me to Santa Cruz for our
anniversary, so we could boogie board on the beach, even though neither of
us had ever done it before.  He'd borrowed a couple of those thermal body
suits that surfers wear because the water is so cold in Northern California,
and since I almost never go swimming I didn't have anything to wear under it
but my underwear.  Going nude under it was not an option.  I don't know why,
but I just can't bear to have only one layer of clothing, and ever since I
hit puberty I have always worn several layers of clothes.  This whole trip
was unusual for me; I mean how many goth girls do you see at the beach.

                I'd found this little shop right off the beach a little ways
up the coast from the Boardwalk.  It was nestled into a small strip mall,
with a weather worn front end with a lot of "discount" signs in the window,
so I thought it would be a good place to pick up a cheap suit to wear.
Mickey dropped me off with his little brother, Evan, and left to go get his
friend Arnold, who I don't like because he always stares at my boobs.  Evan
does the same thing, but he's thirteen and can't really help himself.

I know I have a large chest, but I hate my boobs because they hang down
causing a fold that I can hide a cigarette under.  Mickey says they're
beautiful, and a lot of guys hit on me and can't take their eyes away from
them, but I wish I had firmer breasts with small nipples like the models on
those magazines.  Mickey says that those are usually fake breasts and real
ones, like mine, are better.  In a bikini, or a one-piece they don't usually
sag, but that's not why I avoid them.

My mom was a short, round Mexican lady.  I didn't inherit her smooth brown
skin, but her curly black hair and thick figure.  I'm not obese, or even
chubby.  I take a lot of pride in the fact that my waist is so much thinner
than my hips and my chest, but I don't have any muscle tone, and when I bend
over my belly folds a bit showing these little pudgy rolls that you can
pinch.  What's worse is that my butt does the same thing when I stand
straight up, and it's not as if I can hold pencils in the folds of my ass,
but let's just say that I get hit on by black men all the time.  I exercise
all the time, but that only keeps me from getting big, like my mom, and it
doesn't do anything about me being so short.  There's also nothing I can do
about my face, which I think is plain, but a lot of men compliment me on my
dark eyes and my thick full lips.  I think that's mostly due to the gobs of
make-up I cake on.

So I didn't really care much how the suit looked when I picked it out, since
I'd never wear it in front of people.  I looked around to make sure that
Evan wasn't around.  He was pretending to look though a rack of T-shirts
while actually eyeballing a couple of girls walking by the window.  They had
trim bodies and walked past unembarrassed in their bikinis, with their
perfect tans and smooth styled hair.  I brushed my hair back
self-consciously.  Not that I'm ashamed of it, it goes halfway down my back,
and it's so kinky that I don't have to do anything with it when I get out of
the shower.  It dries full-bodied, and I let it fall over one eye so it
narrows my cheeks, and my lips, which pucker naturally, seem to stick out
even more.  Guys tell me it makes me look demure.  I don't have to die it
black, like a lot of other goth girls do, but then I could never get away
with the bob haircut that was really popular with us back then, since it
would frizz out.

At any rate, with Evan distracted I folded the suit carefully so no pink
showed and went to find the dressing room.  He had been giving me shit all
the way to Santa Cruz about how funny it would be to see me not dressed up
as a goth, since I had agreed to wear one of the body suits Mickey had
gotten.  I didn't want him to make fun of me for the one-piece as well,
since as far as I was concerned no one would ever see me in it.

I spotted a drawstring curtain in a corner of the room.  I hoped that wasn't
the only dressing room, since it not only opened to the whole room when
drawn but it was almost a foot too short, and everyone would be able to see
your feet if you undressed behind it.  Aside from that the store was pretty
busy, and there were about seven or eight guys and a couple of girls looking
through the racks.  I made my way to the dressing room, attracting a few
stares, as I always do, because of my outfit, which was typical of me.  A
short black velvet stretch dress, tight with long sleeves, black stockings
and black suede buckle boots.

When I got to the dressing room I realized that not only was it the only
room but that the curtain didn't close all the way.  It ran perpendicular
from the wall and if you stood close enough you could just lean over and
look right in.  What was worse was that a rack of men's bathing trunks ran
right up to the open edge of the curtain, and there was a mirror placed at
such an angle that one wouldn't even have to lean, but find a good vantage
point and just watch.

I suppose that this was all to discourage shoplifters, but I was being
discouraged from buying there at all.  But I needed the suit, and I wasn't
about to pay ten dollars for a swimsuit that didn't fit.  I looked around
and saw Evan looking around for me and decided to just do it.  Ducking into
the room before Evan could find me I knew I had to do this as quickly as
possible otherwise I would just chicken out.  I dropped my purse, and pulled
the dress up over my head, looking around for somewhere to hang it, but
there were no hooks, so I let it fall.  Then, leaving my panty hose on I
started to pull on the suit, but realized that I wouldn't know If I could
stand wearing the one-piece, since the hose would kept me from noticing if,
say, the suit rode up on me, or chafed.

I pulled my leg out of the suit and yanked down my hose.  Too quickly it
seemed, since my panties went right down with them.  Feeling the cool breeze
between my thighs reminded me that never in my life had I been this exposed,
even if I was behind a curtain.   At that moment the curtain was the only
thing keeping me from exposing myself to a room full of men.  Trying to
extract my panties from the hose I felt a warm, tight knot forming in my
stomach, my fingers fumbled clumsily with the fabric as a faint craving to
touch myself came up.  I pulled up the panties, the smooth cloth rubbing
over my skin, and the knot started to loosen.

Ever since I was twelve I had reacted to stressful situations by
masturbating.  When my mom would lose her temper and start raging, or when
the other girls would make fun of me at school for dressing funny, I would
run to my bedroom and touch myself.  It was a way to take me away from
myself, so I wouldn't have to wonder why I felt so different.  I never
thought about suicide, for me there was always an escape that was purely
physical.  Sometimes I think that that was why I survived high school.
Mickey complains a lot about me not wanting sex too often, but that's
because it's always been a private thing for me.  A place where I can go and
not have to worry about what others think, or how fucked up the world can
be.

I finally pulled on the suit, leaving my hose discarded in a small wad on
the floor.  I had to stuff my breasts into the tight fabric, and I could
feel it pinching my butt cheeks and smashing my chest to the sides.  I
looked at the mirror but all I could see was a reflection of a row of swim
trunks and a couple guys looking through them.  When I realized that this
meant that they could see me the knot came back and my tummy started to
burn.  I took a deep breath, they probably weren't looking, and I was only
exposed for a couple moments, so there was nothing to worry about.  What I
was worried about was having to step out from behind the curtain to look at
myself, where the whole store could see me.

I could feel the suit pressing in to me, pressing the metal wires in my bra
under my chest and wadding up my panties in the back.  I took another deep
breath, and stepped out.  One quick glance, that was all it took to realize
that the suit was definitely not built for a woman of my height and build.
The leg holes went up past my waist and pinched the skin where it folds, and
the chest was so small that I could see inches of my cleavage.  My breasts
bulged out under the shoulder straps and the shape of my nipples were
clearly visible where the pink fabric met the black.  Worst of all was where
the crotch rubbed against my unshaved pubic hair.  It chafed.

Suddenly I caught myself, realizing how long I had been looking at myself, I
spun around and saw the two guys I had seen earlier looking with grins.
Both were young men in their teens; California beach types, tanned, skinny,
with short unstyled hair.  They both turned away quickly and I ducked behind
the curtain.  I reached back to loosen the bunching of my panties and
realized that the whole suit had gone up between my legs and my entire ass
had been exposed as if I were wearing a thong all the way up past my waist.
I frantically started pulling the suit off and had it down just past my
waist when I looked up and saw the faces of the two guys looking at me in
the reflection.  They both looked away again, but they had seen me in my
bra, which no one but Mickey gets to do!  They had also seen my butt, and as
I said before I am not proud of my ass and no one but my few boyfriends have
ever gotten to see.  One of them looked up, saw me watching him and moved
out of view, fortunately.  The other kept his back turned, I guess he had
seen enough.  I pushed the suit down quickly, but like my hose it pulled my
panties down with it, just the crotch stayed bunched up between my legs.

"Are you almost done yet?"

I looked up and there was a young guy looking in, a different one, this one
about 17, a few years younger than me.  His eyes were fixated on my crotch
and my hand snapped into place trying to protect what was left of my
modesty.

"Sorry."  He mumbled, looking up at my face for a second and disappearing.

I had to get out of there, and grabbed my dress off the ground with one hand
as I pulled off the suit with the other, forgetting my panties that went
with them.  I pulled my dress over my head, abandoning for a moment the
underwear, which was knotted, around my knees.  When I pulled my neck
through the opening I saw the guy again, standing behind the curtain with
me.

"I just need to try these on." He said holding up a pair of trunks.  He
pulled off his shirt and started to work at his jeans while I stared agape.
As he pulled his pants down I saw that he wasn't wearing underwear, his
penis was sticking out, fully erect, and he was looking at me with a sort of
grin.

I realized that my dress was still half up, my pubic bush was still exposed,
and I tried to pull the skirt down, but my arms were still tangled up and as
I started trying to get them into the sleeves he started to masturbate.  I
stared in horror as he played with himself, stroking his thin penis as he
watched me like I was a picture in a magazine.  The knot grew stronger, and
the burn crept down into my crotch, filling my labia with blood and making
my hands itch to touch myself.  I wanted so much to reach down and start to
rub, to make this all go away, to pretend like I was alone in my room at
home, but that would have been the worst thing I could have done.

Suddenly thick jets of cream shot out from the boy's penis, splattering me
in the belly, my crotch, my thighs.  Some of it landed on my bare toes.

Shocked out of my reverie I pushed my arms through the sleeves and pulled
the skirt down, spreading semen downward and pushing it into my bush, but I
was too startled to care about my short velvet dress.  I bent down to grab
my purse and my clothes, but he took a step forward.  When I looked up my
face bumped into his penis, semen streaking across my cheek; the head of the
thing landing on my lips.  I looked up at him, my mind reeling in fear as my
hands groped for my belongings.  He smiled down at me, his hand grasped the
base of his penis and moved it across my mouth, casually spreading his jism
where it touched me, throbbing as it did, small baubles of runny sperm
oozing out and dribbling down to my chin.

He gave a sort of push, and for some reason, a reason I couldn't understand,
I didn't lock my lips or clench my teeth.  I didn't even turn my head, but
let him just open my thick red lips with his penis, and he pushed a little
further in until the baubles were rolling out onto my tongue and my lips
encircled and closed around his light girth.

I let my purse go and clutched myself, between my legs, unconsciously.  I
didn't rub.  I had never done anything like that in public, but I had to do
something about the knot of fear in my stomach; Fear of total humiliation as
this boy pushed his thing around in my mouth.

He moved his hand forward a couple times, milking even more out of himself,
all the while grinning down at me with his pimply teenage smile as I stared
up at him subserviently.  What would Mickey think?  I always made him wear a
condom, even for oral sex, and here I was with a stranger's semen gathering
in the fold of my tummy, matted in my public hair, coating my mouth like a
second coat of lipstick and dribbling onto my tongue.

He started to thrust, and I let him while trying to hold my head steady as
he pushed deeper into my mouth.  His dick wasn't long, and it wasn't thick,
so it wasn't hard for him to use me like that.  He put his hand behind my
head to hold it steady against the increasing force of his thrusting.

After a few moments of his doing this my mind started to settle, I realized
what was happening, but I didn't stop him.  I was too scared of what would
happen if I even moved.  I looked around me, but when I saw the mirror I
froze again.  There I was on my knees with one hand clutching my crotch, my
skirt hiked up in back, and past me, in the reflection, I could see the two
boys I had seen earlier, watching.  This time they didn't look away.

Suddenly the hand on my head seized me tight, the thrusts became manic and
my head was being shaken back and forth violently.  Just as abruptly he
stopped moving and warm goo started hitting my tongue and filling my mouth.
It must not have been that much, Mickey never comes much the second time,
but filling my mouth like that it seemed and enormous amount.  I wanted to
swallow it, to get it out of my mouth, but I couldn't, and it was all I
could do to keep from gagging.

Finally he pulled out and started to get dressed, pulling his jeans on
first, then his shirt, as I knelt there with a mouthful of his sperm, too
scared to spit or swallow.  He slipped into his shoes and smiled at me.  He
mumbled something, but I could see shyness welling up in him, his earlier
confidence abating with his erection.  He ducked out of the booth.

Suddenly back in the real world I came to my senses.  I opened my mouth, but
a dribble of semen out the corner made me slam it shut.  I tried to swallow
again, but couldn't, its acrid bitter bleachy taste making me want to retch.
I let go of myself, grabbed my stuff and stood up.  I turned and started to
walk out of the booth, but bumped into one of the kids.  He was standing in
the way with a sheepish grin.  He started to look me in the eye, then looked
away, down at my body, at my bare legs, my exposed pubic bush and my bare
ass.  I realized that he thought he was going to get a turn and froze,
clamping my lips tight to keep the semen from dribbling out inadvertently.

The thought of being used twice in such a way was too much.  My legs started
to wobble, and the burning in my stomach became fierce.  I was desperate to
play with myself, to find a hole to crawl into where this boy, younger than
the one who had come in my mouth, who had seen me let a complete stranger
take me in a public place, didn't exist.

But he wasn't as bold as the older boy.  He blushed and took a quick step
back.  I seized the opportunity and darted for the entrance to the store,
pulling my skirt down and almost bumping into several guys on the way.

"Are you gonna pay for that?"

I staggered and stopped, my mouth coming open inadvertently for a moment,
semen dribbling on my lip.  I looked down at my hand, but instead of my
panties and hose I had the one-piece suit.  A middle-aged man with a large
belly stood behind a counter in the center of the store staring angrily at
me.  I looked back at the dressing room, but the young boy standing in the
doorway made me turn around.  I marched up to the counter and pulled my
wallet out of my purse.

"Twenty-five."

I looked up at him.  I wanted to tell him that the suit came off the
discount table, but with my mouth full of semen I couldn't say a thing.
Again I tried futilely to swallow it, but my throat threatened to gag.  The
thought of spilling the stranger's semen all over the counter in front of
all these men kept me silent as I pulled out the money and paid the man.  I
looked around the room; a lot of eyes were on me.  In one corner I saw the
stranger talking to a couple of his buddies, also younger than me.  They
were looking at me with knowing grins, smiling.  One of them slapped the
stranger on the back.  I looked away as the mustached man behind the counter
counted my change with one hand and rubbed his belly with the other.  His
eyes were pointed down at my legs, which I was acutely aware of being bare
to the world for the first time since I was a very little girl.  They were
pale and white, with thick but firm hips, the result of a lot of exercise.
I had narrow ankles and tiny feet, which were bare, as I'd hardly taken the
time to grab my boots when I flew from the dressing room.  The man put the
suit in a small plastic bag and pushed it across the counter to me.  I took
it and the change and quickly walked out the door, conscious his eyes on the
hem of my high tight skirt and my lack of panties, which must have revealed
the curve of my butt cheek.  Aware of the laughing boys who now knew what I
had done, the two who saw it, and the one I had done it to, all watching me
as I left.

The cool breeze blew through my legs, caressing my hot labia as I stepped
into the busy parking lot.  I ducked behind a pillar to shield myself from
view of the store and spat out the boy's sperm.  It came out in thick runny
globules, and I gagged and spat several times before I was convinced that it
was all out.

When I looked up I saw Evan watching.

"Hey, what's up?"

I shook my head at him and walked back towards the beach.  After a moment I
looked back and saw him running to catch up with me.

"Was that what I thought it was?  It looked like."
                "Something came up," I said, "That's all.  Maybe I'm close
to my period, I get sick sometimes."  Not thinking who I was saying this lie
to I tried to look at Evan matter of factly, but don't know how well I hid
my nervous apprehension, or whether he recognized the cum on my lips.  As I
saw him looking me over I realized how unusual I looked, without any
stockings on, my hair disarrayed and make-up undoubtedly smeared.

"You were in that changing room a long time.  And I saw that guy go in there
and come out before you did."  I just looked back at Evan. The horror of
having been seen by my fiancé's kid brother threatened to make me genuinely
sick.  Had he seen anything more?

Evan persisted, "What did you do with that guy?"

"Nothing." I said, "He just wanted to look in the mirror."

"With you in that super slinky suit?"  He had seen her when she stepped into
the store to look at herself.  When the suit had gone all the way up her
ass.

"I."

"How come you were showing your pussy to the whole room when you came out?"

"Evan-" I stammered.

"You fucked him didn't you?" Evan's mouth was knotted up in a frown, how
could I possibly explain to him what happened.

"I was dressing when he came in, Evan." I pleaded with him, pulling the hem
of my skirt down further as Evan scrutinized my legs, the first time he, or
almost anyone I knew but Mickey had ever seen them bare.  "He wouldn't
leave, so I ran out?"  I couldn't tell him about having let the boy put his
penis in my mouth.  I couldn't tell him how I had to take his sperm.

"Why did you take your panties off then?  I always leave my underwear on
when I'm trying on clothes, I mean everyone in the room could see you in
that dressing room."

That comment took my breath away, but I realized that he had to be
exaggerating, otherwise he would know what I'd done.  Or was he just trying
to make me admit it.

"Evan." I pleaded, hoping he wouldn't make me explain.

But Evan's face had softened; he started to look genuinely worried. "What
did you do with him?"  I could see that he didn't look me in the eye, but
was more unabashed than usual about checking me out.

"Evan," I said, "He came into the room and started masturbating.  I was
totally naked." I exaggerated, "I couldn't leave.  I mean, I couldn't go out
there and let everyone see me like that."

"He saw you?" Evan's eyes were wide as he looked me over.  "He saw you
totally naked?"

I nodded, starting to feel deeply embarrassed.  Just having to share my
humiliation, though inaccurately was almost as bad as the experience itself.
"Please don't tell Mickey Evan.  This'll just be our secret, all right?"

Evan looked up at me, "Okay."  Between my embarrassment and shaking knees I
felt a great sigh of relief.  I would have to start being nicer to the
little creep.  "But I wanna see what he saw."

My heart sank.  I was being blackmailed by this little shit.  My legs were
wobbly and my voice shook, but I said,

"Look Evan if you think I'm going to expose myself to you-"

"What about the blow job you gave him?"

My mouth fell open.  Had he seen everything?

"That's cum over there on the sidewalk isn't it?"

I started to shake my head.

"Then what is it!?"  Evan was shaking with nervousness and anger.  I had
betrayed his big brother.  But if that's why he was mad then why was he
trying to make me embarrass myself?

"Its." I gave up. "You're right Evan.  He made me give him a blow job."  My
world was dark and dim, I was sure I would collapse my legs were so shaky.
I went on, "I wanted to run, or scream, but I didn't want everyone in the
room to see me like that."

I could see pity in Evan's eyes, but there was something else.  A feeling
that was altogether unique to thirteen year old boys when they think about
things like naked women and blow jobs.

                "Show me!"

                I was in shock.  This can't be happening.  First a seventeen
year old pushes his penis into my mouth until he comes then my fiancé's
thirteen year old brother asks me to expose myself to him.  I must have
mumbled some sort of negative because he shouted, "If you don't show me I'm
gonna tell Mickey about the whole thing and you can explain this to him!"

                I stood still for just a moment, then, feeling the knot in
my tummy tighten up even tighter I took a few steps back to where I had spat
up the strangers semen.  I stopped by the pole and turned to face Evan.  I
could see the street, but from the shoulder down parked cars and a long
shrubbery that shadowed the store windows blocked me.  Evan stood arms
crossed waiting.

                I turned around and hiked up the skirt for Evan to see that
I wasn't wearing anything.

                "Higher."  He said.

                I pulled the skirt up a bit more.

                "All the way!  I want to see what you showed that guy."

                I looked around frantically, a couple pedestrians glanced in
our direction but walked on.  There were people in the parking lot coming
and going, but no one looking directly at us.  I pulled the skirt up to my
waist, glanced back at Evan and his fierce glare and hiked it up further,
until it was above my bra.  I crouched down slightly for fear of being seen
through the car windows I hid behind.

                Evan just glared.  I looked at him pleadingly, but he only
glared back.  I could see the bulge in his pants, but he seemed to want
something more.  I turned to face him, to let him see me from the front, but
he just kept staring.

                "What?" I pleaded.

                Evan just stared.

                I stood up straight, to give Evan a better look.  He took a
step closer, looking me over, then at my breasts for a moment and then at my
face.

                I turned my head slowly, pleading, "No." with a whisper,
glancing at other people in the parking lot, hoping he would have a little
mercy.  I hadn't shown the other boy my bare breasts at all, so far I had
kept those safe from greedy eyes, but I couldn't tell Evan that since I had
already lied to him.

                Evan didn't budge.

                Slowly I pulled the dress off, I had to, that's the only way
I could get the bra off.  When I unhooked the clasp and let the bra slide
down I could feel myself quivering.  All it would take would be a casual
glance to reveal me to any passerby, exposing myself in public for a
thirteen-year old.  Evan reached out and I handed the bra to him.  He
fondled it for a second then casually flung it over the car to his right.  I
watched in terror, wondering if my dress would be next, but Evan was
pointing at the ground.

                I followed his finger and saw the puddle of jizz that I had
spat up, still pooled on the tile of the strip mall walkway.

                "What?"  I whispered.

                "Finish it."  He said flatly.

                My eyes must have bugged out of my head as my jaw dropped
because Evan smiled slightly, and I realized that this was his revenge for
all the times I'd patronized him and put him down for being a kid.  Nothing
I could do or say would get me out of this.  He didn't care that I was a
grown woman who was almost entirely in his power, he was a child, looking
out to get a bit of petty revenge.

                I bent down to my knees, grimacing at the asphalt curb, but
I didn't dare go up on the walkway where I might be seen.  At least down
here I was somewhat hidden.  I bent my head down to the globules of sperm,
runny and viscous now that they had mixed with my saliva and settled on the
hot sidewalk.  A thin layer of dust covered the ground as I knelt closer.

                I looked back at Evan one last time, but he lunged forward
and grabbed my upthrust backside.  His small hand groped my labia, spreading
the lips apart sending shivers and vibrations through me, and a gasp, almost
a cry of unfulfilled pleasure as the pain in my gut loosened for a moment;
Relieved by the time worn habit of touching myself when it hurts, and wet by
the time worn habit of masturbating when I am scared or embarrassed.

                "You're wet.  How come you're wet?  Did you let him fuck
you?"  Evan asked, grinding two fingers into me, inside me, as I rocked with
humiliation and unabashed satisfaction.

                "No." I gasped, but Evan pushed my head into the puddle with
his free hand.

                "Eat!" He barked, and I started frantically to lick at the
gooey puddle, not so aware now of the vicious taste or the dirt as Evan's
fingers mercifully dug at me, numbing the pain.

                "What did you do?"  He prodded.

Between tongue-fulls of semen, dirt and saliva, I murmured, "He put his.
thing in my mouth, he. He made himself cum."

                "You let him!?"  Evan shouted, shoving with all his might
his fingers into me, grinding my face in the tile, and the remaining puddle
of semen.  He yanked his fingers out, and I fell over, exhausted.  Evan
pushed me onto my backside, and I lay before him, spreading my legs on the
asphalt for him while he glared accusingly at me.

                "I was too scared to do anything."  I pleaded, "I've never
had anything like that happen to me." All the while, Evan crept down to
position himself between my spread legs, staring hungrily at my swollen
shining pussy.

                "You must have liked it if it made you so wet."  Evan
alleged.

                I shook my head frantically.  Cum was smeared over my lips,
my jaw and nose, "No.  I was terrified."

                Evan looked at me with menacing eyes, smiled and reached
down to unbutton his pants, "Admit it, you're a slut."  He whispered.

                I shook my head-

                "Admit it!" he ordered.

                "I'm a slut."  I whimpered, tears stinging my eyes as the
burning filled by whole inside and I yearned to have Evan touch me again and
send it all away.  I felt him brush me, then something warm.  I looked down
and saw his penis prodding my thigh, "No."

                "Whattaya mean no?  You're a slut!"

                "I can't, what about Mickey?"

                "You don't tell him anything and I won't."  Evan was
clumsily probing around trying to find my hole.  It was obvious he'd never
had a girl before. "Fuck, you do it."  He grabbed my hand and made me take
his penis and guide it.  I took it and rubbed him for a moment against my
clitoris, burning flashes of pleasure blinding me for a moment.

                Then I took a testicle and squeezed it.  Not too hard, but
hard enough.

                "What if I told Mickey that you tried to rape me?"

                Evan gasped and groaned, trying to curl into a ball, but I
held him in place with my free arm and my legs as I rubbed his shriveling
penis against my clitoris, trying to numb the pain and humiliation I was
feeling, while basking in the revenge at the humiliation he foisted on me as
he cried like a baby in my arms.  Finding his shriveling dick useless I
shoved the sobbing child off of me and got to my hands and knees and went
after my dress on the ground next to me.

                I didn't make it a foot before I was violently rubbing
myself, trying to finish what Evan had started.  It wasn't until I had made
myself cum, biting my lip to keep from yelping with the orgasm that I let
myself reach for my dress, marveling at the glistening fingers of my right
hand.  I had never once put my fingers inside myself for masturbation, but
because of Evans prodding had found myself desperate for more.  I started to
feel pretty silly for having thought that, but then I guess that there aren'
t a lot of girls who masturbate when they get scared, so I was a special
case.  I just couldn't believe that I had just done it in a public place,
with Mickey's little brother writhing in pain as he watched a few feet away.

                Looking at Evans curled body, trying to pick itself up as he
hoisted curses at me, calling me slut, bitch, whore, whatever I smiled but
almost regretted not having let him fuck me.

                But then if he had I might have gotten pregnant, aside from
all the guilt I'd feel about having to deal with Mickey.  Besides, who's to
say that Evan would have been satisfied with once.  I had given him what he
asked for, and more.  I had degraded myself utterly in a way no man had ever
made me do.  I hated Evan so much right then that if I'd had a gun I would
have shot him dead.

                But I didn't have a gun.  In fact I was still utterly naked
in a public place in the hot noonday sun.  Evan of course was fully dressed
but for his unzipped fly, watching me with wide eyes as I knelt on my hands
and knees, my sex wide open for him to watch.  I became more and more aware
that Evan had been watching every detail as I thrust my fingers in and out
of my vagina, that he had seen my orgasm, my total loss of control, all
brought about by his sick act of vengeance.  What must he think of me?  I
grabbed for my dress and pulled it on.  My bra was nowhere in sight, so I
pulled on my boots and zipped them up, grabbed my purse and the bag with the
swimsuit in it and marched off.  I was aware as I walked how my breasts
jiggled and swung back and forth inside the elastic material of my dress,
but try as I might to walk steadily I could not control them.

                I needed to get to a private place and get cleaned up.  To
put something on underneath this dress and get to where I was supposed to
meet Mickey on the beach, but first I needed some underwear, or at the very
least, stockings.

                I walked into a convenience store at the end of the strip
mall, a glance in the glass door's reflection told me how badly my make-up
was messed up.  How much of the shiny cum had run over my jaw onto my neck.
I walked past the large bellied scruffy man behind the counter to the
condiment stand, grabbed a couple napkins and did my best to wipe the cum
off my face, and fix the worst smears.  He observed me carefully the whole
time.  I was self-conscious but I couldn't have Mickey seeing my in the
condition I was in.  When I found the small selection of panty hose they had
for sale I was shocked by their prices.  They were easily three times what I
was used to paying at home and I only had a couple dollars left after being
extorted by the clerk at the swimwear store.  I could remember his
mustachioed grin as I shelled out most of my money, staring at my legs while
I was forced to submit mutely, holding a mouthful of bitter jism in my
mouth.  A mouth that had never before tasted an unsheathed penis, much less
semen.

                After pacing around for a few minutes I realized I was going
to have to wear the swimsuit.  If anything, the leers from the hairy bear of
the older man behind the counter were enough to tell me that I would have to
do something about my breasts.  Even if I could afford hose they would do
nothing for that.  But first I was going to have to do something about the
chafing in the crotch.  I found a single disposable razor and a bottle of
glycerin.  I wanted shaving cream or soap, but the glycerin was only sixty
cents and I know that some guys use it to shave.  I went up to the counter
and placed the items before the man, he wore a tight T-shirt that showed his
rotund belly hanging over his belt, and his pants barely hung at what might
have been his waist.  Several inches of his ass crack showed above the
backside as he bent over to retrieve a bag.  He put the items in the bag and
collected the money I had laid on the counter, leering at my chest the whole
time, which, try as I might, I could not keep from swinging back and forth
with every movement I made.  When I went to reach for the bag he pulled it
away.

                "I'll let you have them for free if I can watch."

                I started, then stared at the man.  He still didn't look at
my face, but at my chest.

                "You don't have enough money here."  He said, and I looked
at the register.  The total was only about thirty cents more than I had
given him, but he was right.  That was all the money I had.

                "It's. It's for my boyfriend."  I stammered.

                "Aww, come on."  He smiled, placing the bag out of my reach.
"Just a little peek."  He said, reaching out to touch my breast.

                I froze.  This was happening again, I couldn't believe it.
It was as if all I had to do was show a little skin and men were all over
me.  I had had a lot of men hit on me before, but I could always confidently
put them off with a curt 'No.' but today, as nervous and exposed as I was I
felt as if I was being rolled over by every man I ran into.  Knowing that he
could see the explicit contours of my body, my breasts, my nipples paralyzed
me as he ran his uncouth eyes over me.  I had bought this dress for Mickey,
and at one time was proud of it, but now, without underwear or stockings it
made me feel cheap.  This man was treating me like I had worn it for him, so
he could see and be tempted by my body.

                His hand reached my chest, and he started to gently fondle,
then squeeze my left breast.  I stood there and let him, hoping he would be
satisfied and let me go , hopefully with the glycerin and the razor.  After
the indignities with the boys in the swimwear shop and Evan this hardly
seemed worth worrying about, but the burning knot in my tummy was there all
the same.

                He continued to grope me, this time with both hands, "So
what do you say?" he asked.

                I looked at him, still frozen, but managed to plead, "Isn't
this enough?"

                He smiled, but shook his head, "I wanna see 'em."

                I looked around, but the store was deserted.  From this
position I could see the street and the passing cars, but the pedestrians
were too far away to notice anything.  The problem was that in order to show
him my chest I would have to show him everything, since the dress could only
be pulled up over my head.  How could I let this man make me do this.  Why I
didn't run screaming I don't know, but I was terrified, half naked and just
being around this man, with the bitter taste of semen in my mouth made me
feel like somehow I deserved this.  Perhaps for letting that other boy made
me act unfaithful to Mickey, or for hurting Evan.  I set my purse down on
the counter and hesitantly started to hike my skirt up.  Inch by inch I
revealed to that towering that I wasn't wearing any underwear.  My pussy and
thighs were still wet with the stranger's splattered sperm and my own
juices.  But I couldn't go any further, my hand shot down to cover myself,
my middle finger instinctively pressing hard against my clitoris, "I can't"
I murmured.

                Grabbing a firm hold of my chest which he still fondled he
leaned over the counter, pulling me towards him.  I could smell the beer he
had been drinking, and the thick scent of stale cigarettes and his slight
BO.  His face next to mine he kissed me, and pushed his tongue in my mouth,
moving one hand down to grope my behind.  He pulled the skirt up, and I let
him do it, I even started to kiss him back, sort of pretending that it was
Mickey in the morning after a party, but his scratchy stubble and forceful
lips were nothing like Mickey.  I guess he was trying to seduce me, in his
own crude way, but I was so scared at that point that I would have let him
strip me naked right there.

                I felt my skirt come up over my waist, as the kissing
continued, on and on.  He pushed his hand back down to grope me some more.
His searching fingers found my slit, still wet from the indignities with
Evan, and he started to poke and prod, "Hmm, like it eh?"  He mumbled in
between forcing his rough tongue into my mouth and sucking on my wide lips,
thinking his groping had gotten me wet.  "Well?" he asked, stroking his
thumb over one of my hard nipples.

                Not wanting to offend him and risk having to walk out with
nothing after letting him grope and kiss me I lied, "Yes."

                Suddenly he pulled me up onto the counter, lifting me like I
was weightless.  He yanked the skirt up, all the way up past my breasts
pulling me headlong on my back across the counter where my legs stuck out
into space and my head hung freely over his side of the counter.  One hand
was groping me forcefully between my thighs, pushing a finger deep inside
me, the other he used to pick up one of my large breasts which he started to
suck on, my face being smothered with his arm as he pushed down on me, my
legs kicking air.

                "What if someone comes in?" I asked his round sweaty
abdomen.

                He released his sucking grip on my nipple, "No one ever
comes in here.  You're the second customer I've had all shift."

                My reaction was both dismay and fear.  If no one came in
that meant he could do things to me for as long as he liked, but at the same
time it would spare me the indignity of being seen submitting to a fat oaf.

He continued groping and sucking on me for a long while, switching between
breasts, jamming his fingers painfully into me, but as I am well conditioned
to do when nervous or scared, I remained wet for him, and in fact got even
more so.

                He obviously had a thing for breasts, because he spent so
much time sucking at my large puffy nipples, which were swollen and red
after a few moments of his rough sucking.  They stuck up, erect as much from
fear as having blood sucked up into them and were therefore extremely
sensitive.  He fucked me so hard with his fingers the whole time that I had
to bring up my hand, and show him how to do it softly, "It feels better like
this."  I half pleaded, and he finally listened, lightening his touch,
rubbing me in circles and pushing on the edges of my vagina like I do to
myself when I masturbate.  After a few minutes of that I started to come.

I know that seems odd, to have an orgasm when you are being raped, but he
wasn't brutal, he seemed to genuinely want to please me, and as I mentioned
earlier I was in the habit of touching myself like that when I was scared or
feeling small.  Given my situation I wasn't at all surprised, and I embraced
the coming orgasm, knowing the blissful numbness it would bring.

It was little at first, but in a few minutes I was screaming and gasping,
basking in the numbness and the lack of awareness, rocking up and down as
this smelly beast pawed at me with his rough hands, using me for his
perverted kicks.  My whole world tunneled down to a hot flush in my groin
and his rough but gentle fingers.

                "In a few years," he was saying after I had started to relax
again, the afterglow fading like the sheets being ripped off of me first
thing on a cold morning, "these are gonna sag." He was licking my breasts,
kissing and sucking on them.  "You'll get stretch marks, and no one will
want you."

                I don't know why he was talking.  I guess he was trying to
make me feel pretty, but his crude comments made me feel even more like a
piece of meat, only to be judged by the quality of my flesh.

                He stopped suddenly, lifting away from me, and the last
vestiges of the warmth and numbness splintered around me as I looked up and
saw his slobbering mouth, his triple chin and his vast acres of beer swollen
gut hanging over me.  I grabbed his hand as he started to pull it out of me
and cried, "Don't!"

                "Relax baby." He said, "I'm gonna give you something
 better."

                With that he pulled on one leg, spinning me around on the
counter, condiments and counter racks flying onto the floor as my legs hit
them on the narrow space.  He kept on arm protectively on my head to keep me
from hitting the cash register.  He sat me up and pulled the dress off my
head and arms and pushing my legs apart, set himself between them.

                "No, I want your hand!" I barked, grabbing his hands as he
started to unbuckle his belt.

                He smiled and pushed me down onto my back with no effort.  I
stayed where he put me, but had to lift my legs up to keep my back from
arching painfully.

                "I have a boyfriend."  I whimpered, "We're engaged." But my
legs wrapped around his waist and he let me go, his hands lifting my breasts
as they slid to my sides.

                "After all this you're worried about sleepin' around?" he
gestured at my naked body laying spread eagle before him, his fingers
smearing my juices across my hard erect nipple, my chest still heaving
slightly and beat red from the orgasms.  He ran his other hand along the
length of my leg, which wrapped around him.

                I looked up at this giant man, his hairy belly sticking out
from under his shirt, his whiskered weather beaten face leering down at me,
I could smell the beer again, feel his great callused hands with dirty
fingernails as the spread my legs apart and groped at my labia.

                "You're wet as hell, you were practically beggin' for it a
minute ago." He said, but I have never derived pleasure from sex.  It has
always been something to put up with for loves sake, and often painful.
This thought of giving myself over to some ugly stranger who was 20 years
older than me in that way filled me with horror and revulsion.  This was not
a clean young man like Mickey or even Evan or the stranger in the dressing
room.  This was a filthy old brute.  My vagina was already sore from the
pounding he had given it and my clitoris was sensitive from the orgasms he
had given me.

                Given me.

                Was I being selfish to deny him the pleasure he had given
me.

                But no, that wasn't pleasure.  That was a necessary escape
from the indignity that was being forced upon me.  I owed nothing to this
man, he had forced his will on me and used me like a doll.

                "You can't!"  I ordered.

                But he was there anyway.  Pushing himself inside me.  He was
thick, and it hurt, but I was wet, very wet, and he had no trouble burying
himself to the hilt as he held me down with one strong arm, my struggles
under his weight were pointless.  He started thrusting in and out of me like
I was the cylinder for his piston, his mass spreading me apart and filling
me up.  I bucked and kicked, trying to get my legs higher and wider so as to
lessen the massive presence inside me, often wrapping them tightly around
him by accident and being rewarded with another deep, engulfing thrust.  The
whole time I could feel my juices running down my cheeks as I pushed out
more lubrication the more scared I became.  If he came inside me, what
diseases he might have, how could I face Mickey?  I wanted to reach down and
finger myself, to make my escape, but I knew that that would make me come,
and how would I ever face Mickey knowing I had surrendered myself to the
relentless pummeling of this bohemian oaf.

                "I always wanted to do one of you goth girls."  He grunted
in between thrusts.  "You're so pretty, but so stuck up.  I always knew you
were sluts."

                "I'm not a slut."  I grunted back as he pushed his thing
even further, his hands pushing my legs higher and lifting my ass off the
ground.

                "What do you mean, slut?  I'm fucking you ain't I?"

                "You're raping me!" I screamed, but he slapped a hand on my
mouth and pushed me down as I tried to sit up again.

                He pushed himself all the way in me and pulled my face close
to his heaving gasping maw.  He kissed me and whispered into my ear with
spittle and hot air, "You let me grab you.  And kiss you," He punctuating
every remark with a deep forceful thrust, causing me to gasp and heave as
his thick girth pushed the walls of my vagina apart, "You pulled up your
little skirt for thirty fucking cents, whore, and then you let me suck on
your big titties.  You were the one goin' around in nothing but a dress,
letting everything flop around.  Now you're letting me fuck you.  That makes
you a slut."

                He started thrusting again, harder this time, "I'm not a
slut." I murmured.

                Things didn't last much longer than that, because before he
had finished he pulled me off the counter and dropped me rudely to his side
of the counter.  Then I heard the door open and voices.  The guy grabbed my
head on the way down and shoved his thick meaty dick in my face as I
hunkered down behind the counter, tenderly rubbing my aching crotch.  He
looked down at me with a frown, twisting the back of my neck painfully.
Like before, I opened my mouth, only this time I leaned forward and took his
cock in my mouth all by myself.

                "Slut."

                I glared up at him but could do nothing.  I was naked, and
there were people in the shop.  He pinched me again and I started to move my
lips further over his girth.  I was powerless physically over him, and he
wasn't going to let me get away.  I knew I couldn't take any more sex with
him, and was racking my head for some way to convince him not to cum inside
me.  I started to suck, tasting my own juices on the head of his thick
shaft.  I was afraid of what he might do if I didn't behave, but I was
equally as scared of having him cum inside me, or worse, in my mouth.
Would I have to do that again, to take that nasty fluid in my mouth to keep
myself clean.  I had few illusions that he might be willing to wear a
condom, even if I could endure more of that awful stretching and filling.

                But my answer came another way.  One of the ladies who had
come in couldn't reach a Styrofoam ice cooler on the back shelf.  The clerk
looked nervously at me then back at them, trying to persuade them that they
could reach it.  Clearly he didn't want to leave me alone, but he had to
concede.

                Pulling my head hard, smashing me into his sweaty thick
pubic hair I felt his dick fill up my mouth, spreading my mouth wide.  "Stay
put, slut!" he ordered before he left, "So I can finish you off."

                Then he smiled at me, and walked around the counter.

                When I was in the store I had seen an emergency exit.  I
didn't think I had time to put on my dress and make for the main entrance,
but if I made it out the back I could put on my dress and not have to worry
about being seen.  I grabbed the dress and the bag with the glycerin and
peeked over the counter and grabbed my purse.  I saw the clerk pulling the
cooler off a high shelf on the far side of the store.  He looked back and
saw me take my purse but there was nothing he could do.  He started to walk
briskly with the cooler back for the counter but I had already started for
the back door.

                The last I saw of him was him grimacing as I slammed the
door shut behind me.



                I was facing a low hill to my left.  To my right I saw the
open street and the ocean beach with hundreds of bathers frolicking about
just a few hundred yards away.  All I had on were my boots, but there was a
dumpster between me and the hill.  I didn't know if anyone would be able to
tell I was naked from that far away, but the cars passing nearby were very
close, and when one drove by and I saw its driver do a double take I dashed
for the dumpster.

                I spun around the back, hopefully before anyone else saw me
and tripped over a man lying on the ground behind the dumpster.  I fell
forward onto another man.  The first thing I noticed was the retched alcohol
smell, then the immense BO.  Compared to these men the clerk smelled like a
bed of roses.  The man started up as I fell on him, then grasped me with
rough claws as I tried to scramble away.  He kept hold of one arm and I
couldn't get further away.

                "This your dress little lady?" asked the other bum behind
me.  I turned around and saw a scruffy weather-beaten man dressed in rags
with hair so dirty that it had dreadlocked in thick pointed spars.  He was
about thirty, maybe older, the other definitely older.

                "The man in the store.  He tried to rape me."  I pleaded.

                The man holding me said, "Looks like he didn't just try," in
a thick rasping voice.  With one hand he poked at my sopping wet labia,
exposed from the position I had taken when I tried to back away from him.

                "Don't" I cried and tried to pull away, but his grip was too
strong.  I submitted to his probing, letting him spread my legs, falling
back onto my butt.

                The other man had discarded my dress and come over closer to
me, "You're one'a them gothic chicks, aren't ya?"  He looked carefully at my
groin as his friend stuck his rough fingers into my labia.  Then he noticed
my large pendulous breasts swinging back and forth.  Perhaps not so large as
some woman, but naked, and as short as I am they seem much larger.

                I looked at them both pleadingly but neither said anything.
"Yes."  I said.

                "It true you into Satanism and vampires and all that shit?"

                The other man continued to poke at my vagina.  He inserted
one finger into my well-lubricated hole.  I tried scrambling away again, but
the hand on my arm clamped down and I yelped in pain as he forcefully shoved
his finger further in.

                "No."  I said, and the guy with the questions came forward
and started to grope at my breasts, which hung heavily below my chest.  He
ran a finger along the crease in my tummy.  An action that instinctively
caused me to suck in my gut, to try and hide it.

                "So what is this whole gothic thing about anyway?"  He
asked, going back to groping my breasts.

                The man holding me started pushing more fingers inside me,
"You all a bunch of cocksucking sluts ain't ya?"

                "No!" I said, then turning to the man fondling my breasts I
said, "It's just a music scene."  Growing tired of pushing his fingers
inside me the first man pushed me on my back and climbed on top.  I was too
weak to fight him, I knew that from my experience in the store, but I couldn
't bear the thought of having escaped the clerk only to be had by these men.

                "Help me." I pleaded with the one asking me the questions as
the odor of the man on top of me overwhelmed me.

                "What do you mean a music scene."

                I gasped as the man above me started unbuckling his pants
putting more pressure on top of me, "We just don't get along with normal
people, so we dress different."  I let out a yell as I felt a penis pushing
inside me.  "We listen to- aah!  .different music, and.  oh please stop."
He was pushing inside me and grunting but he kept slipping out and having to
push it back in with his rough fingers.

                "You're a whore, ain't ya?" the man raping me crooned.

                The other bum was not distracted, "If ya all dress different
how come y'all look the same?"

                "We find each other because we- Oh my god- .we identify with
others who- oh! OH! -and we make friends."

                "Say you're a whore!"  The bum on top of me groaned as he
put himself back inside me yet again and ferociously grabbed my breast.

                "I'm a whore!!!" I shouted in pain.  The smell of this man
and the stuffing of his stubby cock inside me was becoming unbearable.  I
looked at his friend, but he just gestured for me to continue as I lay with
my back in the dirt under the noon sun being raped by a raggedy homeless man
who carried who knows what vermin and bacteria.

                "Well."

                "Say it!"

"I'm a whore!"  I looked at the other man and continued, "Friends trade
clothes, and ideas, and introduce each other to music- Oh, please
 stop! -OH!"  My legs were being hiked up and pushed against my chest, my
feet dangling over his bony shoulders.  The bum just couldn't seem to keep
his thing inside me for more than a few thrusts.  "Some people are
really -Oh no!  I'm a whore! Oh, please don't do that- OH!"  He was trying
to force his penis inside me with his fingers while my ass was pulled up in
the air with the weight of him pushing on my upraised legs.

The other bum sat down on the ground and picked up my dress, running his
hands over the soft velvet, "So your saying that after enough people got
together who had common enough interests in wearing black and listening to
this kind of music."

"The scene was -unh! .recognized as more than -ooh! A few friends, yes!"

"Hey bob, you haven't been able to get it up in years, why don't you give it
a rest and let me talk to this girl?"

The man raping me, Bob, suddenly sat up, letting my legs fall to either side
of him, turned to the other bum and shook a finger in his face, "Rape isn't
about sex you fuck!  It's about power!"  He turned to me and shouted, "Beg
for more!"

I was terrified, and complied, "Please don't stop!"

He slapped me, "I said beg!"

I leaned forward and groveled on the ground before him, my breasts dragging
in the rough dirt, "Please fuck me some more, please.  Please.  Please!  I'
ll do anything you ask me!"

Bob grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head up, forcing his shriveled and
soft penis into my mouth, "You see?" he said to the other bum, "You give me
power over a woman any day and keep your sex!  No man rapes because he's
horny, any man can get laid!" he pulled my head even closer into his
virulent smelly crotch, "Man rapes because he wants woman to know who's
master!  This little whore'll never live this down.  She'll always remember
Bob, even though I can't get it up and got a tiny dick!"

With that Bob shoved me aside, landing me in the other bums lap, who started
to promptly squeeze and fondle my breasts again.  Bob towered over me, his
hands on his hips, "Well?"

"Please fuck me Bob!" I blurted out in terror, "I'm a whore, I want your
dick!  I want to serve you, I'll do anything for you!"

Bob looked at his friend who hadn't stopped groping me, grinned and grunted.
Sheathing his penis Bob shambled off around the dumpster where he started
pushing a shopping cart towards the street and out of view.

I looked nervously up at the remaining bum.  He continued to grope and
squeeze my breasts, then leaned down and started sucking on my large nipple,
just like the clerk had.

He came up, "I ain't like Bob.  I don't like rape."

"Look." I said, "You can, you know, do whatever you want but." I looked
fearfully into his eyes, "Don't cum inside me."

He looked back down at me, smiling a black-toothed grin, a sodden nappy
dreadlock falling forward over one twinkling eye.

                I laid down on my back, the dirt rubbing into my bare skin.
I could smell sour alcohol, BO, and urine on this man, but I was so scared
after having been raped twice that I didn't dare offend him.

                "What do you want me to do?" he asked, still smiling at me.

                "F-fuck me." I whimpered spreading my legs for him.  Between
them I saw under the wheels of the dumpster cars driving past, and beyond
them the surf, and people frolicking carefree on the beach in their skimpy
bikini's and swimming trunks.  I couldn't believe that all that was
happening so close to the repeated violation of my body, stained with
saliva, filth, and cum from three different men, soon to be a fourth.

                The bum had taken off his pants, revealing gangly, hairy
legs, and a strong pungent odor I had never before experienced.  Rather than
climb between my legs, he straddled my waist, pointing his this penis at me,
letting it rest on my chest, sending waves of the pungent odor, urine and
smegma, pummeling my nostrils, only a few inches away.  For a moment I
thought he would ask me for oral sex, but then he hefted my breasts up from
the sides and pushed them against each other, locking his thing in between
them.

                Then, pushing and shoving, grinding my back and my bottom
into the coarse dirt underneath me he started to thrust.

                I reached over his leg, trying to reach my sex, hoping to
touch myself, and make him invisible, to muffle the scent, but with each
thrust his legs pushed my arm up and I couldn't keep a grip.  I had to
endure the whole experience aware, every moment, as he pushed himself to
climax, painfully tugging on my breasts and violently mashing them into his
shaft.

                Finally the moment came.  He dropped my breasts, they fell
painfully to either side of me.  Then he grabbed himself and started
stroking violently at himself, white globs of his stuff splattering my
chest, goo splashing onto my nipples.  Then he lunged forward, catching
himself from falling and crushing me with one hand, but leaving his dick
hovering above my face as he continued to stroke it.   Jism still gushing
out in surges to land on my face, in my eye, on my lips, and into my mouth,
which was agape in renewed horror.  This time a thick briny, but not
unpleasant taste hit my tongue.

                My hands, freed suddenly, reached through his legs and
clutched between my legs, spreading my lips wide to service myself, but the
painful reminder of the abuse the convenience store clerk had put it through
made me flinch and gasp.  Then the bum thrust his penis downward with the
last surge of sperm into the inviting maw of my mouth.

                The taste was beyond sour, and under the revulsion I found
myself strangely curious as to why his penis would taste so bad where his
cum tasted, well, not unpleasant.

                Churning my head to the side I let his penis slide out,
feeling it brush wetly against my ear as I licked the semen out of the
corners of my mouth and off my lips, trying to drown the sour taste.  The
pungent smell was stronger than ever, his testicles were firmly nestled into
my eye socket, and I realized that he had passed out.

                I pulled myself downwards, trying to be as gentle as
possible, afraid I would wake him and have to do some other disgusting deed
for him.  At that moment I was boldly aware that I was no longer in the
clutches of a man.  I had a few brief moments to flee to the safety of
crowds where I could not be mauled or molested by anyone.

                Extracting myself from his skinny saggy testicles and legs I
pulled myself up to a sitting position, scanned the ground quickly for my
purse and my dress.  I saw my purse next to the bag with the swimsuit and
the glycerin and razor, and grabbed them.  Then I saw my dress in the pile
of rags that the bum who had just cum on my face had been sitting on when I
tripped over him.  I scrambled over there on my hands and knees and snatched
it up.

                Just as a large black man with an equally large duffel bag
slung over one shoulder walked around the corner of the dumpster, coming up
behind me.  He had long ratted dreadlocks, a thick beard, and a belly that
made the clerk seem trim.  We both froze as we saw each other.  He looked
over at the sleeping, pantless bum, looked at me with my cum smeared face,
and my breasts dangling inches from the ground as I knelt on my hands and
knees, my ass sticking up in the air.  I saw myself in this mans eyes, my
labia swollen and spread wide, sticking high up into the air, ready to
receive yet another unwelcome intrusion.

                I wondered just then why I had ever thought it safe.

                My vagina at that moment seemed to serve no other purpose
than to let men feed from it at will.  Any man could walk right up and take
his pleasure from it.  The more men saw me naked the less I felt like my own
person, rather a possession to be tossed about.

                Then I panicked.

                I ran as fast as my short legs would carry me, my breasts
flopping wildly about, around the other side of the dumpster, back towards
the convenience store and into the back area of the strip mall, a small
employee parking lot and loading dock.  Behind me stood the hill, in front
of me, a hundred yards or so, was a side street that led out to the main
beach drive.  Traffic was backed up on it, but there was nowhere for me to
hide.  Nowhere for me to go but back to the large black bum.  To my left was
the back wall of the strip mall, and to my right were several back yard
fences of houses that led into the suburban section of town.  There were a
few trees on that side, and I ran towards them, aware that my quick movement
might attract the attention of some of the drivers on the street, but too
panicked to care.

                My movement did attract some attention it seemed.  When I
reached the trees, ducking behind them for cover, I discovered four small
boys playing in the yard that the trees grew out of.  There was no real
fence on this yard, just a row of trees.  They had been running around
playing war, or some boy's game, but when I showed up, they stopped, letting
their wooden sticks, presumably used for guns or swords, fall to their
sides.

                My hands instinctively went up to cover my breasts, while
skidding to a stop I slipped on the damp grass and fell butt first onto the
ground, my legs spread wide.  My possessions flew in every direction.  I was
deeply aware now of the semen running down my face, my matted ratty hair,
the glistening jizz melted on my tummy, and my swollen red labia exposed for
all these boys, no older than nine or ten, to stare at.  My hands clutching
at my breasts did little, I realized, to cover myself.  With my tiny hands I
could barely cover a nipple, the rest of the breast hanging prominently down
to just above my navel, which incidentally, was hidden safely away in the
tuck of my tummy.

                As embarrassed as I was before these kids I was more
terrified of the large black bum, and hunkered down where I was, afraid to
move a muscle, imploring the kids to be silent with my eyes.

                "Are you in trouble?" one of the kids asked.

                I nodded.

                "I'll go get my dad."  He said, gesturing towards the house
with his wooden stick.

                "No!" I cried, "Please don't."  I was more scared of being
discovered in this position than of being scrutinized by these young
children who could not guess at the humiliations I had experienced.

                "Are you a hooker?"  one of the boys, an older blond asked.

                "What?" I stammered, remembering suddenly that my legs were
spread, since that's where all their eyes were I pulled them together and
pulled them up into a ball.  Watching their gazes shift I realized I was
equally exposed, and put a hand down to my damp vagina to cover it, letting
a breast fall free to one side.

                "My mom said that women who wear make-up like you do are
hookers, and she says you dress like sluts."

                "I'm not a hooker."  I implored, trying to curl away even
further from their determined gazes.  A couple of them had gotten very
close.  They didn't seem mischievous, but curious.  I imagine they had never
seen a naked woman before.  More so they had never seen an adult act in such
a manner as I did that day.  Nervous, submissive, scared.

                "What's a hooker?" one of the boys asked.

                I looked up at him. "Could you hand me my dress?"

                He looked around and saw it lying on the ground, and went to
fetch it.

                I decided to answer the boy, "A hooker is a woman that sells
her body to men."

                "For sex?" another boy asked.

                I nodded.

                "Why?" the first boy asked, handing me my dress.  I wanted
them to go away, or turn their backs, but they all waited patiently, but
expectantly, for me to open up my body, to reveal myself to them.   I
realized I was going to have to do it.

                "Women sell their bodies for money."  I continued, deciding
that this would be easier if I didn't pay too much attention to it.  I
suddenly stood up, letting them all take a good long look at me, and shook
out the dress.

                "Why don't they get a normal job?" the boy persisted.

                Turning the dress outside out I realized that it hadn't
suffered much at all from being dragged around and flung on the ground.  I
started to work it over my arms, trying not to notice the four pairs of eyes
riveted to every part of my anatomy.  I went on answering their questions,
"Hookers aren't like we are, they're very poor.  Most of them need to do
that kind of work because there is nothing else available for them."

                "But I see job signs all over the place."  One of the kids
blurted out, embarrassed.

                I stopped dressing for a moment and looked straight at him,
the stretch velvet strung over the top of my chest, "Most hookers can't even
read, they come from neighborhoods where they have to work all their lives,
and their schools are terrible.  Most of them don't go because of all the
crime and drugs.  When they become women they can't find normal work, and
they get picked up by pimps, who get them hooked on drugs, who buy them lots
of pretty things that they never had before."

                I realized suddenly that I was still naked and pulled the
dress on over my head, feeling the cum smear on my face from the tight
collar, "The pimps then make them sell there bodies to pay them back, or to
get more drugs." I went on, puling the dress past my breasts while they boys
followed wide-eyed, "they never let the women go, they take almost all the
money and the women never earn enough to pay their pimps off."  I pulled the
dress all the way down.  "The women can't work on their own because the pimp
controls all the streets, and beats up any girl who works alone until she
gives him their cut."

                The blond boy looked at my dress' hemline, he was clearly
disappointed.  "Is that why you're a hooker?" he asked.

                "I'm not a hooker!"  I barked.

                "Then why are you running around naked?" he shouted back.

                Another boy chimed in, "If you're not a hooker, then does
that mean we don't have to pay you to have sex with us?" he smiled, as if in
triumph while his friends stared at him in shock.  I watched them all turn
their heads to me one by one expectantly.

                I looked the boy straight in the eye and said, "And what
would you do with me if you could?"

                He stared bashfully at the ground.

                I don't know why I did what I did next.  Probably it had
something to do with the psychological and physical brutality I had endured
in the past hour.  I think I had snapped for a moment and was trying to lord
power over these boys in exchange for all the power and dignity that had
been stripped from me that afternoon.

                I walked right up to him, "Well?"

                "Well," he looked at the ground, even at nine or ten he came
up to my height and was looking down at my breasts swinging back and forth
under my dress, "I'd put my penis in your vagina."  I barely heard the words
he was no nervous.

                I pulled up the hem of my skirt in front, "This?"  I asked.

                He couldn't look at me.  He just looked around and nodded.
The other three boys, however, were straining to get a look at my bush, but
couldn't see too well since I was standing so close to the taller boy.  I
took another step, until my breasts were pushing against his chest, then
hiked up the skirt in the back.  What the Hell, I must have been thinking.
It's not as if they hadn't already seen me.  The knot of heat was tight in
my tummy, as it had been for some time, but this time for some reason, it
wasn't accompanied by that cringing horror.  The humiliation I felt at
exposing myself to these boys was having the instantaneous reaction of
sending burning flickers down through my tummy into my swollen labia, which
were twitching and pulsating with arousal.

                But the shame was equally as strong, and it's a wonder that
I didn't tear off running.  My body and mind were conflicted, to keep the
incredible burning alive or to bury it forever and end the degradation of my
body.

                But instead I grabbed his hand and thrust it between my
legs, "Would you put it in here?"  I asked.  I saw the blond boy take a
quick step closer to see, and looked at him.  He started and took a step
back.  I smiled at him, and nodded towards my backside.  I did the same to
another of the boys, but only the blond who had called me a hooker came.

                The tall boy was clumsily pawing at my pussy, pulling on my
pubic hair, scratching me with his nails, but his adolescent thumping on my
labia was too exiting to make me stop.  The blond boy hesitated until I
smiled at him, "Do it." I said, "I'm a slut, not a hooker."

                He wasted no more time in grabbing my ass and kneading and
mauling it with one hand while poking and exploring for my crotch with the
other.  I had two hands groping me between my legs and it wasn't' long
before the blond one found my hole.  I thrust my own hand down to rub at my
clitoris, pushing one of the tall boys hands aside.

                I came instantly.

                Rocking and gasping I shuddered in their arms and felt my
legs give out from under me, the burning sensation in my loins giving vent
to massive convulsions that racked my body.  I collapsed to the ground and
knocked the tall boy down, falling to my knees with my head in the grass, my
ass sticking up, my sex fully exposed again for all the boys to see.

                Just as quickly as the desire to control these boys had come
it was gone, like a flight of fancy, with my orgasm.  I was mortified again,
at the thought of all these boys watching me, terrifyingly aware of the
compromising position I was in and feeling exactly as I had in the
convenience store, or with the bums.  I felt someone pawing at me, sticking
his finger in my pussy, and I just lay there and let him.

                I watched the tall boy get up off the ground and push the
others away, seeing that all three had been clamoring at my vagina.  I
watched as the tall boy stood up and undid his pants, pulling out a tiny but
stiff erection.  He stepped around behind me, and with the confidence I had
given him by letting him grope me, got down on his knees and inserted his
thing into my hole.

                And did nothing.

                I almost started laughing.  He had no idea what to do after
that, so he just stood there groping me some more, reaching around my thighs
to touch my bush and trying to push his hands up my dress.  Laying there
shivering, wishing the knot of pain would turn back into heat I started
grinding myself back against him, hoping to provoke some sensation in my
labia to bring me back out of my fear and humiliation at having just
prostrated myself for the amusement of four children.

                But he had gone soft, not knowing what to do, and probably
not extracting much pleasure from the experience, he lost interest and stood
up, zipping himself up.  I slowly pulled myself up, brushing the grass off
my face, trying not to look at the kids.  As I pulled myself to my feet the
blond boy came up to grab me again, but I shuffled away, bumping into one of
the boys that hadn't spoken.  His arms instinctively went up, one hand
landing on my breast.

                The blond boy stepped forward, "I thought you said you were
a slut."

                I tried to speak, but couldn't so I just shook my head.

                "Yes you did, I heard you!"

                "What's a slut?" asked the boy with his hand on my breast.

                "Someone who." I began, "Someone who will let anyone fuck
them.

                "I don't think you're a slut."  The boy said, but the blond
boy chimed in,

                "She let all of us fuck her!"

"No she didn't." the tall boy said stepping in between the approaching blond
and me, shoving the other one off of me and putting his arm around my waist.
"She just let me fuck her.  You have to use your dick!"

                The blond boy and the tall one started arguing, shouting
back and forth over the definition of fucking.  They shouted at each other
for a few moments, the tall one insisting that I was his girlfriend now and
no one else could have me.  When the blond suggested that the tall one share
me with the rest of them I took off running again, my buckle boots slipping
on the grass as I tried to pull down my skirt and snatch up my purse and
bags at the same time.

                This time, with my dress on, I ran straight to the street,
took a left and ran down the sidewalk following all the traffic heading
towards the beach.  After a moment I slowed down, painfully aware of how
much my chest bounced, not to mention the aching condition of my groin.
Make-up smeared, hair a mess, cum drying on my lips and chin, not to mention
my bare legs and lack of any type of underwear.  The draft in between my
legs was stronger than before, and chillier, probably because of all the
juices.  I was still reeling from the humiliation of what I had just done,
and feeling myself safe at last felt wobbly and lightheaded.

                As I walked past the parking lot to the strip mall it
occurred to me to go look for my bra, which Evan had flung away.  I figured
that as long as I stayed in the open no one would try anything.  Besides,
being on the street I was getting a lot of catcalls from drivers;  a lot
more than usual.  I guess that was because of my bare legs, and freely
hanging breasts.  I was so glad to be covered up, however, that I didn't
even pay attention to what they were saying.

                As I turned into the strip mall, walking down a tile walkway
that fronted all the shops I saw a couple of Mexican guys in their teens
hanging out in front of a record store, a couple doors down from the
swimwear place I had been humiliated in.  They were both wearing nothing but
long shorts hanging low on their hips and low sneakers.  Both of them were
staring at me hungrily.

                As I got closer I could see that they were watching my legs
and hips closely, and one of them spoke to me in Spanish, I guess he
recognized my Mexican blood, but I don't speak Spanish and have never hung
around Mexicans, so I didn't respond, just kept walking.  When I got a
little closer one of them said, "Hey mama, you need to hike that thing up a
little more to let the air blow through."

                I froze right next to them, and looked down.  My skirt was
riding up, my bush sticking out under the hem just a little.  I started to
grab at the dress but one of the guys put his hand out and copped a feel. He
grabbed high enough to let me know that my cheeks were at least half
uncovered, giving the whole roadside a great view of my legs, my ass, and my
pubic hair that stuck out in back.  Frozen as I was I guess I didn't react
fast enough for the Mexican boy who had touched me, since he quickly moved
his hand between my cheeks and moved his hands downward.

                Reaching my asshole I gasped, and he stopped, saying
something to his buddy in Spanish, "Punta" and pulling his hand away.

                "Who's been fucking you lady?" his friend asked.

                I shook my head.

                "You a fucking whore." The other Mexican said matter of
factly, then turned and walked away.  His friend started to follow, then
suddenly reached out for my bush, grabbed me with one hand and yanked up my
dress in the other, pulling it up under my breasts.

                "How many guys you fucked today?" he demanded, his face
right next to mine.

                "A. a few." I stammered.  His fingers were rubbing my pussy,
skillfully playing with my clitoris and probing the entrance to my vagina.
It started to feel real good, and I let him, quickly forgetting how exposed
we were.

                "You want me to fuck you baby?" he whispered into my ear,
softly.  I nodded, not really wanting him to fuck me, but not wanting him to
stop fingering me either.

                Suddenly he stopped, said "You are a fucking whore." pulled
his hand out and walked off after his friend laughing, leaving me with my
dress hiked up.  Quickly I scrambled to pull it down, aware that the several
occupants of the record store were watching, men and women alike, but none
had done anything to intercede.  Looking at myself in the reflection as I
pulled the dress down and scurried past it made sense.  I was dressed and
looked like a whore.



                I gave up on the idea of searching for my bra, doing so
would mean I would have to walk in front of the swimwear store anyways, and
I wanted to get as far from that strip mall as possible.

Evan was waiting on the corner of the street.  He frowned when he saw me,
then smiled as I walked up.  I was painfully aware that not only had he seen
me naked, but that he had had his fingers up inside of me and knew that I
had let that other boy come in my mouth.  He had told me to grovel on the
ground and lick up someone's sperm and I had done it.

                When I reached him his eyes went wide at the condition I was
in, then he smiled again, perhaps guessing or inventing the kind of ordeals
I had been through.  He started to speak as we waited for the light, but I
stopped him,

                "We don't tell Mickey or anyone anything, right!"

                "What do I get?" he asked.

                "You already got your revenge."

                "I wanna do what Mickey does to you."

                "No.!" I barked.

                "Well I want something."

                "Look Evan," I started, "Maybe when we get back you can.  I
can take off my clothes and we can masturbate together."  I couldn't believe
I was offering this to him.

                "Any time I want?"

                "We'll talk about it."

                "We are talking about it!" he barked as we stepped onto the
beach side of the street. "You gonna eat my stuff like you did that other
guys."

                Again, I don't know why I did what I did, but I winked at
him and said, "Depends how it tastes."

                "I want somethin' now!" Evan demanded, "Before Mickey gets
back."

                I sighed, knowing I would have to appease him somehow.
"What is it?"

                He cocked his head, "Bend over and take off your boots."

                We were standing on a crowded beach, traffic whizzing by,
people all around us, but Evan's request would mean that I would be flashing
anyone who was looking.  The little perv wasn't just out to get off, though
I knew he wanted that too, but to humiliate me.  He just wanted to lord
power over someone almost ten years older than him, and he had the perfect
blackmail on me.  I couldn't do it, however.  The thought of being forced to
do it in private was one thing, but to willingly expose myself in public?
The very though sent stabbing pains up and down me.

                I bent over, slowly, feeling the skirt hike up.  First to my
cheeks, and then I felt the familiar breeze on my sex and shot straight up.

                "Look Evan," I pleaded, smiling, "Maybe I can find out.  You
know, what it tastes like."

                Evan grinned, then started looking hurriedly in every
direction.  He stopped when he saw a small building, and smiling at me he
gestured in its direction.

                It was a small, gray brick building, a public bathroom from
what I could tell.  Sheepishly I bowed my head and started off in its
direction, Evan following close behind.  The knots in my tummy were tight
and painful.  The thought of sucking off my fiancée's little kid brother in
a public bathroom made me feel dirty.  The thought of doing it willingly, of
having offered to do it made me feel downright trashy.  I could feel Evans
eyes on my butt as we walked.  I was aware from the warm breeze that it had
ridden up when I bent to undo my boot into the curvy folds of my butt
cheeks.  Had I stopped and spread my legs apart you would see my pubic hair
sticking out as I walked through the crowd of men, women and children
playing on the beach, walking to and from their cars to enjoy the warm
Summer sun.

When we arrived at the building, Evan skipped ahead of me and stuck his head
into the men's room.  He looked back at me and gestured me to follow him,
then disappeared inside.  It was a small bathroom, with no doors and high
screens in the walls providing the only ventilation.  Looking around to make
sure no one was watching I scampered in after Evan.  The smell of urine
surrounded me like a cloud.

                The floor was wet with the saltwater of bathers and I didn't
want to know what else.  The urinal and the sink were stainless steel, but
the door to the stall was pitted and rusted.  It was by this that Evan
stood, gesturing quickly for me to follow him.  I walked in after him,
trying not to slip on the wet cement floor and he shut the door behind me.
Through the ventilation slats set high by the ceiling I could hear bathers,
some of them standing and chatting happily just on the other side of the
wall I stood against.

                "Take off your clothes."  Evan ordered, "First the boots."

                I was reluctant to set my bare foot on that wet clammy
floor.  Clots of paper towels and toilet paper lay in soggy clumps here and
there, but I looked at Evan and realized that I would never get through this
day if I didn't appease him.  I bent over to unzip the boots, then thinking
for a moment I turned around and did it again, so that Evan could see my
pussy while I did it.

                Stepping onto the cold, damp floor sent shivers up my spine.
I lifted my dress, watching Evan over my shoulder, unable to believe that I
had sunk so low as to become the sex slave of a thirteen-year-old boy.  He
watched with big eyes, showing the intensity of a child waiting patiently
for his ice cream at dessert.  I lifted the dress up and over my head,
baring myself to him utterly, again, like I had bared my ass to the children
a little while earlier: Willingly.  He smiled and grinned, pulling his thin
cock out of his pants, eagerly awaiting the return on the favor I'd promised
him.  I stepped forward, slowly, each step sending pools of clammy water
squishing through the toes of my tiny feet.  Loud voices carried in from the
vents, making it seem as if I was parading naked through a crowd.  He
gestured at me to drop my dress and I complied instantly, letting it fall
into the dampness.   When I reached Evan he put his hand on my shoulder and
shoved me downwards, I let him push me down to my knees where his thing
stood waiting for me, eager to have my lick plush lips embrace his thin
rigid shaft.  I opened my mouth, leaned forward, and took it.

                Just then about three loud guys burst into the bathroom,
laughing and joking.  One of them pushed on the stall door, but I had drawn
the latch.  I was terrified that the latch would break, that one of them
would see my legs under the high walls of the stall, or that they'd need to
use the toilet and wait until Evan and I came out.  Evan didn't seem to
care, he was still rigidly erect, and he thrust, perhaps unconsciously,
reminding me that I had a job to do.  I started to suck him, trying to be
quiet, hoping that the boisterous crowd would go away quickly while I worked
on Evan.  I knew that at thirteen he wouldn't last long, and I was right.
Within a few seconds he started to come, not even giving me the chance to
put my hand to my sex and start stroking myself.  His semen started to flow
in rapid jerks, filling my mouth with a rich, slightly salty taste, and a
faint hint of bleach.  It wasn't as good as the briny flavor of the homeless
mans cum, but then I didn't have the bitterly sour taste of rancid cock to
contend with either.  It was certainly better tasting than the strong
acidity of the first boy in the changing stall.

                I thought to myself as Evan's vibrations shook him out of
me, sending the last few drops across my jaw and chest, that I might be able
to swallow his stuff after all.  Taking a hesitant gulp I confirmed this,
realizing that I could do that on a regular basis.

                That shocked me.  The thought of routinely taking Evan's cum
in my mouth filled me with humiliation and shame.  The realization that I
had zoned out again in the face of total submission and let myself be used,
Hell, the thought that I'd offered myself up to be taken like a free whore
made me want to be sick.  But Evan stood in front of me expectantly, his
little dick shriveling up, a glob of white dangling off the end.  I gulped
down the rest of the jizz in my mouth, suppressed a grimace and said,
quietly, so the guys in the bathroom wouldn't hear, "Not bad."  I only hoped
that this little excursion would keep Evan off my back until Mickey and I
had gotten home where I could begin to deal with everything that was
happening to me.

                Evan stood there, still waiting for something, and I
realized he was waiting for me to lick the last drop off his withered dick.
 He was acting like he was holding out a treat for me, like eating cum was a
present, and that I was a slut, addicted to its acidic flavor.

                Nevertheless I leaned forward and lapped up the last drop of
Evan's little gift, even licking and smacking my lips for effect.

                He beamed down at me, "You can have some whenever you want."
He smiled proudly, "You really like sucking on guys don't you?"

                I didn't answer, but smiled at him as I stood up and walked
over to retrieve my now sopping wet dress.  I did my best to wring it out,
Evan didn't help, he just stood there watching me walk around naked,
grinning as I struggled to pull the damp fabric over my voluptuous body.  My
dress had been tight before, but now it seemed to melt on to me, clinging
with cold wet friction to the curves of my body, making the already visible
shape of my breast a clear outline, as if I had been painted with wet
velvet.  I pushed the ratted hair back, letting it rest slick on my neck and
shoulders, then picked up my boots and my bags, gesturing for Evan to check
the bathroom now that it was quiet.

                The coast was clear, but on my way out I ran into a couple
of kids coming in.  They stared in shock at me, a busty, scantily clad women
whose clothes were soaked coming out of their bathroom.  I meekly mentioned
that I had though it was the woman's and scurried away from them, turning
around the building to go and employ the woman's restroom for real, but
there was a metal grate welded to the front of it.  A small placard read
that because of vandalism the bathroom was closed.  It directed women to go
use the porta potty's in the parking lot across the street, but I didn't
need to pee, I needed a mirror and a clean sink.  Evan was following a few
steps behind me as I sought out a quiet place where I could wash myself,
shave the edges of my pubic hair and change into the incredibly small and
revealing bathing suit that I would wear under the body suit that Mickey was
bringing.  I had to be able to pretend that everything was normal when he
arrived, but the large amounts of cum on my body and my disaster area of a
hairdo and make-up job wouldn't allow that.

My back was to the door of the woman's bathroom.  I guess Evan thought that
the wall that jutted out to block the doorway from view was private enough
because he walked up and copped a feel, pushing his hand right into my
thighs, his fingers probing my wet crotch.  I started to jump, to turn and
shout at him, but remembering the position I was in.   I made it seem like I
had been startled, and I smiled up at him.  That must have given him the
wrong idea, since he dug his fingers deeper, probing into my vagina, making
me spread my legs a little to keep him from pulling on my skin, and to make
it a little more comfortable for me.  This of course, encouraged him to
plunge in deeper yet, until his knuckled were grinding into me.

Oh well, it might as well have belonged to him by then.  Would I ever have
the courage to make him stop?

"You must really like sex a lot," Evan said, "To be so wet all the time."
He continued to push and rub with his fingers, grinding his thumb against my
asshole, probably in ignorance, which hurt, but felt good at the same time.

I opened my mouth to correct him, but when I realized that the honest answer
was that I like having my pussy played with more, which was exactly what he
was doing, I just gaped.

"How come given blow jobs makes you so wet."

What could I say, because the thought of having him tell Mickey what I had
done terrified me, and being scared made me want to hide and fuck myself?
How could I explain something like that to a thirteen-year-old boy who I was
letting grope me?

Suddenly he stopped, starting to remove his fingers from my vagina.

"Don't" I gasped, not aware until that moment how involved I had been
getting with his clumsy fingers.

Evan stared for a moment, not saying anything.

Desperate to go back to the nothing state, the place where I wasn't aware of
being blackmailed and molested by a child I reached down in front of me and
pushed his fingers back up inside of me, "I like it when you do that." I
admitted.

"That's what turns you on?  Getting. fingered?" he asked, almost embarrassed
to say the word.

I wanted to shake my head, but the sensations inside me were too strong and
I didn't want to have to explain to Evan that being humiliated was what made
me so wet.  Not because it turned me on, but because I had conditioned
myself my whole life to get horny whenever I was scared, embarrassed, or
uncomfortable.

I let him rub me, shoving his fingers deeper inside me, while I rubbed my
clitoris, rapidly racing towards another climax.  I was almost blind to the
woman and her little girl who had turned the corner to use the woman's
restroom.  I was oblivious to the hundreds of beachgoers who frolicked on
the sand just a little ways away.  When I finally came, not as violently as
I had with the kids, or especially with the brutal clerk in the convenience
store, but it was strong enough to send me into Evans shaking arms, heaving
and panting.  He pulled down my skirt when I turned my back to the beach,
perhaps the only kind thing he had ever done for me.  In the afterglow of my
orgasm I kissed him with such a passion as to make me wonder if I ever had
kissed a man before.  He kissed back a bit, but he was clumsy, and I knew
from Mickey that he had never kissed a girl before.  I felt his teeth as he
blindly sought to know what to do, but that didn't stop me as I smothered
his thin curved lips in my thick soft mouth that had only recently received
his shaft in total submission.  I licked him with the tongue that had tasted
and lapped up his salty cum, grinding my body into his with the last heaving
shudders of my orgasm.  Finally he caught up with me, putting one arm around
me, the other on my ass and he kissed me back, the little boy starting,
finally, to learn to be a man, now that he had a woman who would have him.

I had given myself willingly to his perversions twice.  Both times out of
fear, but never did he have to resort to force to make me expose myself for
him, to bare my breasts and pussy for his twisted thirteen year old desires.
I had agreed to let him see me naked, and to eat his cum when we leave the
horrible beach and that meant that life would never go back to normalcy.  I
would always be at my fiancée's little brother's beck and call, ready to be
his willing vessel to receive his sperm.  Ready to expose myself for his
budding manhood.  Ready to introduce him to the nature of womanhood, and how
it is designed to serve a man.

There would be no give and take with Evan.  He would ask and I would
deliver.  My reward would be the shame and humiliation that brought about
the need for the mind numbing release of an orgasm.  I had just revealed to
Evan how much I craved such a feeling, that I would let him take me any
place in the hopes of such a blissful escape from shame.  He may not have
learned it that day, but it certainly couldn't be long before he figured out
how to lord that knowledge over me.  He could conceivably make me do
anything he wanted.  Just so long as I thought I would receive my reward.

Crushed up against him, my mouth locked on his, I felt his fingers exploring
the fold of my butt cheek.  He would poke it with his fingers, lift up my
butt, then let it fall and trap his fingers.  The he would caress my labia
from behind, and with the slick fingers he would run his fingers along the
lines of my ass again.  Letting the kiss slow down and stop I realized that
the feeling was gone.  I was again, disheveled and hardly dressed in public,
alive with the knowledge that I had just surrendered my body to a child,
that I might never be free of his desires.

As our mouths fell apart I saw Evan gazing at me with a look of both pride
and possessiveness, adoration and contempt.  Something inside me seized up
and pinched tight, but as earlier, there was no reassuring warmth.  Nothing
to promise the sensuous return for my submission but the memory of my fading
orgasm.  Then I remembered that Mickey was coming, and I still had to get
ready.

"When Mickey gets here," I pleaded, "we won't say anything, all right?"

"I want to do it again." Evan said, cocking an eyebrow and putting his hands
on my hips.  He was testing me, I knew it.  Perhaps he was afraid that if he
let me leave I wouldn't be his slave any more.

"But Evan, if Mickey gets here and sees me like this he'll know something is
wrong."

Evan frowned and crossed his arms.  I was tempted with the urge to lift my
dress for him again, but we were in public, shielded though we might be.

"If Mickey sees me like this I'll have to explain something." I stepped
right up against him and putting my mouth to his ear went on, "I have your
juice on my breasts," I was smashing my chest into his crossed arms, "It's
in my hair and running down my belly."  I kissed him lightly, "I can still
taste it." I whispered lastly and finally saw it dawn on Evan that if Mickey
saw all that semen on me then not only would Mickey beat the crap out of
him, but that I would be gone for good.

Evan looked at the ground, then stepped out onto the sand and looked around.
Then he looked back at me defiantly with a frown and said, "There's some
showers at the end of the beach." He looked at the ground again, "I'll be at
the burger joint."  The burger joint was where Mickey and Arnold were
supposed to hitch up with us.  With all I'd been through that day I still
couldn't believe that I'd only been dropped off little over an hour ago.

Evan looked up at me again, jerking his head while looking at my dress' hem.
I felt the cold chill again, but complied with his wishes and lifted up my
skirt, just enough for him to see my pussy.  He twirled his fingers and I
turned around, hiking the dress up over my ass.  Then I bent over so he
could see my puffy labia protruding from between my legs.  He looked for a
moment, then with a huff stomped off, leaving me to quickly yank down my
skirt.



I walked down the beach for a long ways before I caught sight of a few small
buildings.  I was right where the beach ran into the highway and there was a
large scenic outlook with a largely empty parking lot.  I presumed the
buildings were restrooms for the drivers.  Walking along the beach I didn't
attract as much attention as I had by the stores, probably because being wet
and half dressed was normal on the beach.  Most of my make-up was gone and I
'd gone and left my boots with Evan, so there wasn't much left to identify
me as a fish-out-of-water goth at the beach.  People pretty much accepted me
as I was.  There were a few sunbathers, mostly guys who sat up and stared as
I walked too close to them, giving them an inadvertent glimpse of my nude
cheeks and my pussy as I took large clumsy steps in the hot sand.  I did my
best to avoid these, and always hurried away.  Looking back over my shoulder
one I saw a couple of guys sitting up and staring.  The closer I got to the
buildings the more sparse the crowd became.  At this end of the beach there
were breaker waves and lots of large rocks in the water, so even wading was
unsafe, which was fine by me.  I had had enough of crowds and was ready for
a little privacy.

When I reached the buildings I saw that one of them was a bathroom like the
one I had been in before.  Two of them were little outhouse shaped shower
stalls, built out of wood with lean-to shaped roofs set about a foot above
the walls allowing the person in the shower to see all around them.  Of
course they were probably made for someone taller than myself, I was only 5'
5" and had to stand on tippy toe to see inside, even then I couldn't see
down inside of it.  The first stall I checked was rusted out and someone had
obviously put a lot of effort into vandalizing it.  The second one was in
much better shape, though it certainly needed a cleaning.  The only problem
was that it was right next to the parking lot and there were already two
cars parked there.  I saw a middle-aged man playing with his dog not far
away and there were two old ladies walking past me as I contemplated the
stall.  I was certainly apprehensive about stripping down in this little
box.  The idea of being naked while only a thin, low, wooden door separated
me from any number of pedestrians scared me more than ever, sending the
flighty moments of security away as quickly as they had come.

But I had to do it, Mickey was coming, and I had to appear normal, otherwise
explain why I had let so many men see me naked, let them grope me, cum on
me, and cum in my mouth.  I had never before tasted sperm, now I had sampled
three men and committed myself to doing it again and again with the third.
I had even let two of them and a child have sex with me.  How many men had
laid their hands on me today, certainly more than had ever in my life all
combined.  I was fortunate that I hadn't had to take anyone's cum inside my
vagina.  To me that was the ultimate degradation, next to swallowing their
sperm, to take a man's sperm unwillingly.  In a way it was worse, since
their sperm would then be deep inside me, and since I had always made Mickey
wear condoms I wasn't protected.  How many men had almost impregnated me
today I didn't want to think about.  The one thing I knew for certain was
that Mickey would never accept my explanation that I was simply scared when
I opened my mouth and let that strange teenager put the penis in my mouth
that had started the ordeal.

I would simply have to pretend nothing had happened and hope Evan did as
much himself.  Considering all that I had been through, however, getting
naked in the shower stall didn't seem like such a leap.  But since I had
been so brutalized today, stepping through the rickety door I was reminded
of all the penis', I could taste all the cum, and I was terrified that it
would happen again.  With a Herculean effort I made it through the doorway,
dropped my bag and with single-minded determination pulled my dress up, but
froze halfway up.  I closed my eyes, and for some reason saw Evan standing
defiantly with his arms crossed.  Somehow that pushed me over the edge and
within a moment I was naked.  All around me I saw the bright blue sky, the
world seemed to be buried.  Pinholes of light shed in from narrow cracks in
the weathered wood and a cool breeze blew through the screened openings that
revealed the azure blue sky.

I reached for the shower nozzle and cranked it hard, ready for an ice-cold
blast of water to wash the scum and sperm away.

But nothing came.  I heard a faint gurgle, but no water cam out.  I looked
at the floor, it was bone dry, a cement depression surrounded by a short
brick ledge with a grate in the center of it all.  Disappointed hardly began
to describe how I felt, but resigned I let go of the nozzle and reached for
my baggie of clothes hanging from a hook on the door.  I would just have to
go over to the bathrooms to clean up my face when I was done, but first I
had to shave my pubic hair and get into that suit so I wouldn't have to
flash every man I stepped near.  I poured some of the glycerin onto my hand
and started to work it into the edges of my pubic hair, rubbing it liberally
into my very sensitive labia.

Doing that made me realize that I was basically alone, and the hormonal rush
from having locked myself in my room so many nights came back with a mad
passion.  My clitoris was sore and swollen, but my lips were engorged and as
I rubbed my lubricated fingers deep into my dampening folds I felt myself
gasping with pleasure.  With my eyes tight shut and my heaving breath I didn
't notice a rattling at the door, but when I finally heard it my eyes popped
open and I saw a face peering down over the top of the door.  It was a black
face with long dreadlocks and a wiry beard.

It was in fact the same man who had seen me eating the cum of the bum behind
the dumpster.

He pulled again on the door, and the flimsy copper latch broke.  He stood
there watching me for several long seconds while I slowly stroked myself, my
hands gliding over the smooth lubricated folds of my sex.  I didn't stop, I
couldn't stop I was so terrified of him, this great fat black beast leering
down at me from so high up.  I had nowhere to go.  I was locked in.  All I
could do was stroke myself and try to make it all go away.  When I saw him
pull out his penis I simply upped the tempo, grinding my palm into my
clitoris while I buried my fingers into my moistened cunt.

His cock was thick, thicker than any I had ever seen before, not that I had
seen many, but not so big as I had been led to believe of black men.  It
hung just past the end of his hand, not quite hard yet, and he hefted it as
if it weighed a ton to pull his testicles out from his pants.  The whole
ensemble stuck out from under a thick, wide belly.  He pulled on it once,
all the time staring at me with a wide blank expression.  I said before that
I get hit on a lot by black men, well, considering that he still wasn't hard
and that he looked at me straight in the eye I had to conclude that he was
either pretty drunk or pretty far gone on something.

Then he started to pee.

He had aimed it at my feet, but as the jet grew in force it climbed up my
legs, the thick warm stream showering the dried cum from my thighs as I
stroked myself with a violent ferocity.

He had come into this stall to pee, and he didn't care that I was there, he
had to go.  All I was to him was something to pee on.  This was worse than
the other men, to whom I was nothing more than a body to fuck, or a mouth to
come in.  I was now a receptacle for human waste, and as the piss splashed
my hands I rubbed myself even harder, but it wasn't enough to make the
humiliation and shame go away.  The warm yellow fluid ran under my
fingertips, mixing with my juices as I ran my fingers deeper and deeper into
me, trying to make the man vanish, but the whole time staring mesmerized at
him while he fixated me with his stare.

Then he stole a glance down at my body, shooting out two last squirts of
piss, both hitting me square in the chest, a few drops splattering my face.
I looked down at his hand and saw that his thing had grown a bit.  It was
now much thicker than the store clerk's, but not much longer than Mickey's,
about seven inches.  It was stiff, sticking straight out, and it was getting
closer.  I looked up at the black man as he stepped up to me, the shower
stall door swinging shut behind him.  I tried to back away, but had nowhere
to go.  Stepping on the ledge that kept water from running out onto the
street I shot up, nearly to the height of the black man, and then smelled
his fetid breath just a moment before his hands clutched my breasts
violently.

"Please." I cried, but I didn't know what I was asking for.  I felt his
thick stubby dick jabbing me in the thigh and I put a shaking hand down to
touch it. "Do y-you want me to suck you.?" I asked gibbering with fear.  He
smiled, and leaned hard into me moving his hands down instead to clutch my
ass pulling my hips close to him while shoving me hard against the rickety
wooden wall.  Resigned to what would happen next I twisted my hips the way
he was pulling and bent my knees, spreading my thighs apart.  I took his
penis and gingerly guided it to my hole.

Then, carefully I worked myself down onto the fat shaft, which filled me up
so deeply inside that I thought someone had inflated a balloon inside me.
He began to push, causing me to gasp for air with every thrust.  His hot,
sour wine breath pelted me as his thick wiry beard scratched my face.  His
strong hands grappled with my wide flanks, pulling them apart, digging deep
into the supple flesh of my ass as he continued to pump deep inside me,
splitting me in two.

Supported by his firm grip I lifted my legs involuntarily, trying to ease
the pressure on the walls of my vagina.  His weight kept me pinned to the
back wall, which creaked uncomfortably under my bare back.  I wrapped my
legs around his sides, but he was too fat for me to reach around him.  With
some effort I extracted my hands from the weight of his tummy and clutched
his shoulders, as much to keep from slipping down as to have something to
squeeze to fend off the insufferable stuffing which was not so much painful
as it was incredibly intrusive.

I surrendered myself wholly to this mans primal instincts, twisting my hips
to accommodate his thrusts.  Thankfully I had been sopping wet down there,
not to mention soaked with glycerin, so he had had no trouble filling me up.
The further I twisted my hips and spread my legs the deeper he was able to
plunge his shaft inside me, hammering away at my insides, his thick belly
mashing down on my chest, tummy, and bush.  I could feel the pressure it
created with every thrust of his penis on my clitoris, grinding my little
bud into his driving shaft.  I could smell his thick secretions of sweat
combined with recumbent filth accumulated from years of living on the
streets.  I knew that he was spreading that filth all over my cum
splattered, urine drenched body, and pushing it deep inside my hole as the
first bum who had raped me had tried to do.

The rape seemed to go on forever, I was on the verge of fainting.  I could
feel his thick hot drool running down my cheek, which he rested his mouth
against as he hunched over trying to force himself further and further up
inside me.  His sweat was all over me, I could feel it running down my sides
in thick runnels, pooling up in the thick folds of skin that I had made in
my scrunched up position.

Then he seized up, thrusting so hard that he practically bounced me in the
air, locking his arms around me painfully, his coarse scratchy lips smashed
against mine, panting and heaving his fetid breath into my mouth, drooling
onto my wide lips, almost as wide as his thick black mouth.  His orgasm
racked up inside me, I couldn't feel it but my mind raced with images of
giant blobs splattering into my unprotected cervix, racing into my uterus,
big black sperm seeking out my defenseless egg.

He had been motionless for several seconds when I dared to open my eyes.  I
started to bring my legs down, shifting my weight to take some of it off of
his strong hands.  His calm dark eyes were calm, but bloodshot now.  When my
feet found the ledge he lightened his grip on my buttocks, caressing them
gently now, running one finger up and down the length of my crack like
Mickey does sometimes, but also rubbing my anus.

I have to admit that after the violent thrusting it felt good and I relaxed
into his soft round girth, letting him caress me, letting his lips flutter
over mine, feeling his shaft soften inside me but still filling me up.  I
didn't dare try to push myself off of him, and I waited for him to get
bored.  He removed one hand from my butt and brought it up to cradle my
breast, which swung free in the motion.  He gently ran his callused finger
over the nipple, watching it intently.

Not knowing what to do I started to gently knead his shoulders.  He
obviously wanted a little afterplay, or perhaps to appreciate my body which
he had not bothered to do before ravishing me and planting his seed inside
me.  I played along, even kissing him on the cheek.

"That was great." I whispered, and as his eyes darted at mine I gave him a
cautious open-mouthed kiss.  Returning the kiss in kind he would have been a
much better kisser than Evan had the sour smell not been accompanied by a
sour taste, but I didn't stop him.  I just wanted to satisfy him so he would
leave me alone.  I still had to shave and clean up and Mickey was probably
already at the restaurant waiting for me.

The thought of facing Mickey for some reason didn't bother me.  I had never
much cared about him sexually.  But Arnold and Evan, could I look them in
the eye, they who so openly lusted after me, Evan who practically owned me,
could I let them see me without being aware of how cheapened I had become?
That I had become the drinker of other men's sperm and now had taken a giant
black mans semen in my vagina?

Finally the black mans penis had shrunk enough that the force of my pussy
pushed it out.  I felt it fall wetly against my thigh, and felt my vagina
closing up behind it, a great pressure on my inside had been released, like
that sore and uncomfortable feeling you get right after you poo.  He let go
of my ass, which I again had to admit left me feeling kind of let down,
losing the one source of small pleasure I had felt I was left with the sore
emptiness in my tummy, a scratched and bruised backside, and still no hope
for a shower.

He took a step back, looking me over.  I looked him over, he was more
repulsive than before.  Rather than tall and proud as when he had come in he
was slumped and tired, his great belly sticking out even further over his
fat dick, which was dribbling a long dangly trail of cum.  I was still
terrified of him, and hoped he was ready to leave now that he had had his
fun, but I didn't want to offend him, and when I saw him look down at his
cum capped shaft I went to my knees.

Down here the smell was worse, but not as bad as the first bums.  His penis
had been cleansed in the deluge of my own juices, but the odor of urine and
other bacteria was still strong.  Nevertheless I reached out and took his
penis with my mouth, the act almost forming a habitual nature so often had I
been made to do it in the past couple of hours.  My hands planted on the
ground I could hardly reach up to the mans thick black penis, which I had
little trouble taking inside my wide mouth, though I had to open it all the
way.  I lapped up the trailing vestiges of semen off of the head, noticing
the familiar briny taste that the other bum had had, and gulping it down
with no problem.  In fact, after I was done I licked my lips to get the last
remnants and returned to suck a new drop that had leaked out of his penis,
an effort that rewarded me with another surge of rich briny sperm.  I sucked
again, trying to milk more of the jizz from the black bum's cock, but at
last he pushed my head off of his flaccid shaft, pushed it back into the
folds of his pants, turned around and disappeared out the door, leaving me
kneeling in a puddle of his piss formed in the obviously backed up drain.  I
rolled the last drops of semen around on my tongue for a moment before
swallowing it, wishing he had not planted so much inside me.

Then, as usual, I caught myself.  I don't know how I kept myself from
screaming out loud, but instead I collapsed in a fetal ball into the puddle
of cooling piss, shivering at the memory of my having so willingly dropped
down to my knees to give up the last of my dignity to the man who had just
raped me.  It was so much worse than it would have been had I let the clerk
have me.  Perhaps he would have been nice, he certainly cared a lot about
pleasing me, which was more than any of the bums had done.

But there I was lying face down in a pool of piss instead, wishing I had let
a violent ogre of a man finish raping me and plant his seed in me while
lying on my back on a counter top in a convenience store.  I had sunk pretty
low.  Scarcely a single man had touched me without forcing his shaft into my
mouth, and I felt for a moment that I'd never eat real food again, but live
on a diet of semen for the rest of my life.

If only Evan's sperm tasted as good as that of the bums.

That thought woke me up.  I jerked up to my knees and remembered again where
I was and what I had to do.  I would just shave myself, get dressed, and
leave.  I picked up the razor off the floor where I had set it next to the
glycerin, only the glycerin had been tipped over and now mixed with the pee
to form the puddle I was kneeling in.  My crotch was still well lubricated,
glycerin doesn't readily rub off, but when I reached down between my crotch
to feel for wetness I realized I had no reason to worry.

Thick runnels of the black mans semen were filling up the folds of my labia.
The semen that had just moments before been so succulent to me now disgusted
me.  It served as a bold reminder of the violent intrusion I had
experienced, a final insult dripping out of my most private, well until
recently, regions.

I had nothing to wash myself off with but the puddle of piss, so I had no
choice but to live with it.  I started to work on my bush, shaving it off in
big wads, not caring any more about my tan line, just determined to get the
job done.  After a couple strokes I realized I had nothing to clean the
razor with, so gritting my teeth I shook it out in the puddle of pee and
continued.

When I reached my labia I had completely shaved the front portion bald.
Clumps of dried semen and filth from the day's misadventures had left it a
knotted mass and I was glad to be free of the whole mess.  I then sat down
with my back to the wall, trying to ignore the cold piss that welled around
my butt cheeks and sent shivers where it touched my asshole.  I spread my
legs wide apart, and pulled my lips together where the chafing would be
worst.  The sperm continued to dribble out, coating my lips with its gooey
essence, but being so close I didn't stop or try to clean myself, I just
shaved another patch and dipped it in the puddle of pee.

That's when the door opened up and two boys stood staring.

I stared back in half a panic for a moment, but had been hit so many times
that day, a couple more 7 or 8-year-old kids didn't keep me stunned for
long.  "Shut the door!"  I ordered, but one stood defiantly.

"The men's bathrooms are out of order, so my dad told me to use this!"

I looked back at them, they were both, of course gawking at me, astonished
to see a naked woman much less one in such a position.  I wondered for a
moment if they knew what it was that was running out of my vagina in thick
creamy strands into the puddle I sat in.

"What are you doing?" the same boy asked, a short kid with short brown hair.
Behind them I saw that the parking lot had begun to fill up, people were
walking back and forth.

"I'm shaving."  I pleaded, "Please close the door."  I was futilely trying
to contain the flow of jism from my vagina with one hand.  The other had
gone modestly to my nipples, spreading semen all over them.

The short boy's friend had tried to tug him away from the door, but was
ignored.  "Why are you shaving?"

"Can't you see I'm naked?  Please just leave me alone."
                "Well, let me come in and we will."  The boy declared.

I felt a strange crawling feeling creep up over me, and once again, I knew I
was under yet another mans power.  I nodded, and the boy came in, his clumsy
toes splashing piss everywhere while the other boy looked I the doorway,
which he held slightly ajar.

"Where am I supposed to go?" the boy asked, for some reason ignoring the
fact that I was still spread-eagled on the ground beneath him.  I made a
defiant gesture indicating the puddle I was sitting in.

"The drain's backed up-" I started to say, but the boy wasted little time in
pulling his tiny thing out and letting go right between my legs a jetstream
of piss that made the puddle foam and sent streams of heat over my freezing
buttocks and into my frozen anus.

My shock was abated for a moment as the soothing heat flowed over me, but as
the boys piss stream built up it moved and struck me right where I had been
shaving.  I stared up in horror and fury as preadolescent pee pummeled my
vagina, held open and exposed, washing the steady dribble of black mans
semen into the growing puddle I was sitting in.  He was smiling, and began
to move his thing around, thoroughly bathing my crotch, rinsing off the
rogue hairs that I had shaved off, leaving my lips smooth and shiny with
little yellow droplets forming where the glycerin had been rubbed.

I dropped the razor, standing up enraged, the piss splashing all over me.
Trying to avoid his stream I knocked my head on the wall, and slipped,
barely catching myself on the wall as my breasts swung about violently until
I regained my balance by grabbing the boy's shoulders.  My chest was right
up against his face, and he stopped urinating as he pulled his head back to
avoid being swatted by my bosom, each one being easily the size of his
boyish head.  "Get the fuck out of here!" I demanded, shaking him.

"I'm gonna tell my dad." He screamed, crying.

Again, the thought of being humiliated before an adult after having been
exposed to children filled me with terror, "No.  I pleaded, "Don't do that."
I tried to force a smile, "It's just not polite to pee on people like that."
But as quickly as the words were out of my mouth I felt the warm jet pelting
me, this time in the tummy, running down into my crotch, the hot liquid
shooting straight up.  As degrading as it was it started to feel very good.
Were it not for the smell.

I wanted to throttle him, but I just smiled and glanced at his friend who
was watching with glee.  He stuck a finger out, pointing at my pussy and
said, "You got stuff comin' out of your coochie!"

I let go of the other boy and looked down.  Indeed, the bums sperm was
dangling from the part in my labia in a long gooey tail, the boys piss
running over my lips and dripping off the end of the trail of jizz that had
dripped down from deep inside me to hang between my parted legs.

The boy in front of me stopped peeing again to look, and I scooped it up
with a free hand, "It's just soap."  I tried to explain, cupping my cunt as
much out of modesty as to staunch the endless flow of jizz from my once very
private and sheltered sex.  Now with the hair gone it was more exposed than
ever and I was humiliated to realize that two small children had been the
first to see my loins.

For years I had had men try to sleep with me, treating me like a sex object,
goosing me in crowds, calling me names, all sorts of thing.  I knew it was
because of my large chest, wide hips and comparatively narrow waist, not
because I am particularly beautiful.  I also knew that most men think that
goth girls are sluts, which is goes to show you that most men don't think.
Most of us are rather monogamous, and will only date goth guys who respect
our bodies as much as our minds.

Today, however, it seemed that I had become the object everyone treated me
like, and had thus plummeted to a level that deserves no respect, dignity,
or even the right to refuse any man her body for anything.  As I stood there
legs bowed, clutching myself to contain a handful of sperm forced inside me
by a large black bum while two little boys pissed on me and laughed at me
while I smiled good humouredly at them I became convinced that I was indeed
a sex object.  I was nothing more than a hole to be fucked.  At the mercy of
any man who might turn his gaze my way.

"That's not soap!" the short boy insisted.  I smiled,

"No it's not." I admitted.

"Well what is it?" the other boy prodded, while the short boy grabbed my
boob.

I started to pull away, but as he pinched and squeezed it I relaxed and let
him explore.  He was only six or seven, he didn't really know what a breast
was for. "It's cum."  I said, responding to their quizzical looks with, "It'
s what comes out of a man's penis when he-" I realized the horror of
illustrating the act of sex to these boys.  What if they wanted to try it?
"When he rubs it."

"Why's he rub it?"

The other boy blurted out, "Because it feels good, my dad told me all about
it.  She was letting a man rub her in there," he pointed at my pussy, his
finger bare millimeters away from the split of my labia sticking out over my
hand, "Now she's gonna have a baby."

The thought of that made me shudder, and he continued,

"Why are you holding it like that?"

The other boy laughed, "Are you gonna eat it?" they both burst out laughing.

"Eat it!" they shouted together.

I smiled, trying to laugh with them, but for some reason I was remembering
the taste of the black man as I willingly kneeled in his piss and put my
lips over the head of his cock.  Scooping the puddled goo out of my bare,
shiny labia I raised my cupped hands to my pouting mouth.  My legs were
shaking as I tried to force a laugh for the boys sake, but when I slowly
pushed my tongue out over my bottom lip to slurp up the puddle of cum I was
stung with the acrid bitter taste of the boys piss.  Looking up they were
both staring at me wide eyed, expectantly, in their innocence forgetting all
about my nudity.  I stuck my tongue into the puddle, the strong briny taste
rolling onto my tongue through the bitter watery pee and started to lap it
up.  I Slurped the goo into my mouth in great gulps, letting the jizz roll
around on my tongue as it made its way towards my throat and down into my
tummy.  Both boys were making sounds of disgust, but I let myself get
enraptured in the act of degrading myself further for these boys by the
familiar heady flavor of the homeless man's strong semen.  It wasn't as good
as the pure stuff was, it wasn't as pleasant as having gotten to lick it
right from the source-

The slamming door shocked me.  The boys were gone.  I could hear them
running away and laughing.  Cum utterly covered my mouth and chin and I
scrambled to finish the mess and get on with dressing myself.  Licking my
fingers clean and pushing what cum had run down to my chin I realized that
my bag was no longer hanging on the door!  Had the boys taken it?

Standing on the ledge I propped myself up to look over the doorway.  There
on the sidewalk were my bag and my dress.  They must have been knocked down
when the boys ran off.  I looked around the parking lot, and to my horror
saw several people, some teenagers skateboarding at the far end of the lot,
a couple of girls in bikini's with their tight, hard bodies walking towards
the beach.  To my right, only a couple cars away from the one parked in
front of the shower stall I was in, I saw two middle aged men, conservative
but working class types eyeballing the girls.  The kids were no longer in
sight.

Watching the girls I calculated that the men would be looking the other way
as they got closer to the beach so I waited for my moment, knots building up
inside me, heat flushing my loins, my legs and hands shaking like leaves in
a storm.  When the moment was right I didn't hesitate.

I pushed the door open and took a small step onto the warm cement sidewalk,
then one large step, putting me in reach of my bag, then bent double over to
retrieve it.  What I hadn't taken into account was the strong breeze that
came up and tore the door out of my trembling hands, slamming it back into
the stall with a loud cracking sound as I snatched the sack.

Looking up from my bent in half position I saw through my legs both men
turning to look, seeing my ass and pussy spread wide on display for them.  I
stood straight up, starting to turn and saw the two girls strutting their
firm tits and tight asses under their slinky bikini's looking as well.  They
burst out into laughter as my breasts fell back down into place and turned
and walked away.  Heat flushed into my face, my groin started to burn and my
stomach was on the verge of a seizure.  I reached out and grabbed for the
shower stall door, determined to not let another human being see me naked
for as long as I lived.

But the door was stuck.

Maybe it was the boys slamming it, or the black bums forceful tearing at the
door, but it had fallen and knocked itself behind the door jam, where it
resisted my efforts to pull it back open, and wouldn't swing inwards.  I
could feel my boobs slapping against my rips as I desperately seized at the
door.  All my worst nightmares had come true.  It was anyone's worst
nightmare.  I was standing alone in a public place utterly naked with
nothing to cover myself.  My world tunneled down to a narrow field, my hands
and the door.  Let me in, I silently begged, make it all stop.  My eyes were
going gray, and I started to become worried that I would faint, to be found
naked with cum dribbling out of me, and my panic grew.

Then a warm hand touched my shoulder.

I jumped, spinning around, my back slamming into the wall of the door.  I
was facing the two men, both in their early forties, both clean-shaven and
balding.  One had a gut pushing over his belt, the other was really skinny.
They both wore large shorts and had knobby knees.  They wore T-shirts that
said Santa Cruz and California respectively.  The fat balding man put his
hand out, presumably to steady my shaking body, and it worked.  I froze
solid.

He said, "Hey hon, we're just trying to help."

The other guy leaned forward, his eyes involuntarily darting from my face to
the ground to scanning my ample flesh exposed for him and anyone else to
see, "Yeah, why don't you let us have a look at the door?"

I looked at the other guy, who was looking down at my chest.  He looked up
suddenly, blushing and glanced away, "Yeah, let Charley here have a look."

Have a look, I thought, they could already see everything.  As much as any
man I would ever know would see.  But they just smiled, waiting politely,
their faces looking in every direction from embarrassment, but always
returning to steal a glimpse of my nudity.

I steeled myself to move, then took a step from the door.  They were so
close that I had to walk towards the chubby guy, since there was nowhere
else to move.  He held still for a moment, perhaps as mesmerized by my
public exposure as I was.

Charley stepped up to the door, but he took a moment to put his hand out and
touch my back, gently nudging me, or perhaps trying to reassure me that I
was in good hands.  "Dan why don't you take her back to the car?" he said as
he started to examine the door.

"And let all those skateboarding hooligans see her?"

I looked into Dan's eyes imploring his not to make me go anywhere.  He
smiled a polite middle-class gentleman's smile at me and shook his head.

"No Charley, you just get that door open, so this young lady." his voice
trailed off and I caught him staring at my bosom, his eyes fixated on my
wide, erect nipples which heaved up and down with my ragged panting breath.
Being scared wasn't much different from being fucked, the thought occurred
to me. Dan glanced up into my scared eyes, "Sorry miss, I've just never." he
looked away, and I looked over at Charley, who was working the door open
slowly by pulling it upwards.  Even doing that, he had his head turned and
fixated on my butt.  I dropped a hand to my bottom, running it over my
cheeks, then realizing it was futile to try and cover my ample features.  I
had a large chest and a wide, round butt, and men found that desirable.
More so for sex than for looks, from what it seemed, and that meant that men
would become all the more animal around me than, say, thinner girls.

I looked back at Dan, he was looking at me again, both of us looked down.
When I did I saw a short little puptent growing in his baggy shorts.  Dan
saw that I saw, and turned to hide it.  My legs were weak, as they had been
all along.  The stress was starting to weight heavily on me and I put a hand
out to steady myself, clutching Dan by the shoulder, "Mister." I whimpered.
His arms were instantly around me, supporting me.  My chest was smashed
against his, and resting comfortably on his gut.  One of his arms propped me
up in the center of my back, the other low on my waist.  Too low, I though,
since a hand was firmly planted on my right butt cheek, bare inches away
from my damp, glistening, cum-drenched vagina.

I was too short of breath and too scared to object though.  I was just happy
to drift off and let Dan hold me, the first gentle man I had met since the
clerk had taken me on to his counter.  Before he raped me, that is.  But
this guy reminded me of my dad, firm and protective.  My dad never looked at
me the way Dan did, however.  Then again he never saw me naked.  I started
thinking about my daddy when Charley saw what I was doing.

"Dan she's younger than your daughter for Christ sakes."

"I'm just holding her up.  She's almost feinted."

"Well you're practically molesting her!"  Charley shouted.

I could feel Dan's shaft pushing against my tummy, just above my newly
shaved groin.  I let him hold me up, pushing myself against him and rubbing
up against his hard thing.  I heard him gasp, hot air sliding down over my
neck and back, but I was dizzy, enjoying the moment of numbness.  I was
afraid that if I pushed him away I'd feel nervous and exposed again.

Was that how I'd gotten into trouble with the other guys?  By not saying
'No.' when I had the chance?

Pushing the thought back I continued to push myself against Dan's penis.
Slowly, so neither he not Charley would suspect my deliberate intentions.
As long as I did that, I thought, Dan would hold me and I would feel safe.
I thought of my dad again, rubbing my tummy into Dan's dick made me feel
like I was doing my dad, letting him rub against me like boys did in high
school when I didn't really realize what they were doing.

"C'mon honey.  The door's open."  I heard faintly.  The hand dropped from my
back and gently pushed me on the shoulder, trying to encourage me to turn
around, but I hung on tighter, gyrating my pelvis into Dan's, rubbing my
pussy against his bare thigh.  My hand dropped to touch his thing, but as I
did, my fingers gently exploring the length and size of his shaft I woke up.
I looked right up into Dan's eyes, shock on both our faces.  I tried
supporting myself but found myself leaning even heavier on his arm, his hand
digging deep into the soft flesh of my ass, one finger rubbing at the edge
of my ass.  He must have moved it while I was zoning out.  I could feel it
sliding over the tight folds of my asshole with the lubrication from my
recent raping.

I turned to look at Charley.  He stood next to the now open door staring at
me as I let his friend run his roving finger over my willing asshole, one
hand firmly clutching Dan's dick.

I let go, Dan's hands flew off me like I'd burnt him.  I stooped down,
snatched up the swimsuit bag and dashed inside the stall, my feet landing on
damp, but otherwise dry, cement as the slow seepage had drained out the
piss.  The strong breeze had blown away most of the piss odor and I
gratefully stepped into the stall, spinning around to see Charley and Dan
staring at me with wide eyes still, but unabashed wonder.  I grabbed the
door and pulled it from Charley, who let it go.  "Thank you." I said sweetly
and honestly with a smile, my voice echoing in the small room.  Then I
pulled the door shut and literally tore the bag open to extract the suit.

"You need to learn some control." I heard Charley saying in low tones
outside.

Dan replied, "How do I control myself with a woman like that?"

"She was vulnerable and she needed our help."

I barely heard Dan whisper, "But she grabbed my dick."

"Your daughters older than she is."

I pushed my legs through the tight openings.

Dan was talking still, "Meg hasn't put out more than once a week in five
years, I just couldn't help myself.  What would you have done."

Charley laughed aloud, quickly hushing up, thinking I couldn't hear as I
struggled to pull the suit up past my waist. He whispered, "She's just a
scared girl-"

"Did you see her?" Dan butt in, "She had cum on her mouth.  Her pussy was
shaved and dripping wet.  Her whole ass was slick.  She's a beach bunny, she
probably ran out just to get our attention.  She must sit in there all day
waiting for guys to come in and."

"Dan you are so full of shit!"

I was frozen, terrified at what Dan thought of me.

Charley went on.  "I mean she had something on her mouth, and I know you don
't see a shaved woman every day, but that doesn't mean that she's some beach
trollop who puts out for any man.  I mean what would she want with a couple
of middle aged balding salesmen?"

"You saw her, she's short and chubby.  Guys around here go for those tall
tanned girls, that girl was white as a ghost."

There was a pause.  I continued getting into my suit and realized that my
dress was still on the ground outside.  The suit was very tight, as tight as
I'd remembered it and it rode up uncomfortably on my labia, but fortunately
without the painful chafing.  I struggled to make it cover something of my
ass but trying to pull it up to cover my chest pulled it up tight, again
making a thong that ran up my back exposing my flanks to the world.

Charley was mumbling, "You really think she's sitting in there waiting for
us to."

I could feel the crotch absorbing the moisture of the remains of the sperm
and my piss drenched backside.  I pulled one strap up over my shoulder
preparing to thrust my breasts into the tiny one-piece when the door flew
open.  Dan stood there with one hand held out indicating me while Charley
stared on.  I had one hand nestled into the crotch of the suit trying to
relieve pressure and it served to expose my new baldness for the two men to
re-examine.

Dan must have lost some of his courage, because we all froze for a moment.
Then he came to his senses, glanced at Charley and stepped inside letting
the door close behind him.  I stepped back, allowing him more room and saw
him glaring at me with contempt he hadn't shown before.  He reached down and
started to undo his shorts while I pulled my hands up to try to cover
myself, but Dan stepped closer, I felt the ledge at my heels and stepped up
on it, just like before.  I closed my eyes and waited.

Dan wasted no time.  He put his arms around me and grabbed my ass, slipping
one hand down to pull up one leg so my pussy was open for him to plunge in,
which he did.  He fucked my like that for a long time, his shaft not as
thick as the black mans or the store clerks, but longer.  He was also more
in control, his rhythm steady and deliberate.  He used my elevated position
to get my nipple in his mouth, though it required some stooping.  In a few
minutes he was fucking and sucking me, sending shivers through my body, each
thrust a gentle, painful reminder of the abuse my tender body had taken so
far that day.  I gasped with each thrust, moaning and groaning at his
incessant lust, pushing my hips out to take him deeper in the hopes that he
would come sooner, but this was no boy.  Being as old as he was he took a
long time to finish, stopping every once and a while to catch his breath.
When he seemed like he was going to start again I would kiss him, trying to
buy my aching vagina a little more time, but it wouldn't stop him, it just
encouraged him, and prevented the pleasant shivers I got when he sucked so
artfully on my nipples.

"You like it don't you?" he asked several times, "This is what you wanted
isn't it?"

Every time he asked I just kissed him, or thrust my nipple back in his
mouth, letting him drive his long dick inside me, spreading my lips apart.
At one pint I remembered the cum that had run so freely out of me, and I
said, "When you come, pull out."

"Is that what you like?" he grinned, "You like it when guys cum on your
mouth?"  He started thrusting harder, causing me to moan harder and louder,
"Is that what you did to the last guy?"

I nodded, unable to speak, hoping he would understand.  He started pumping
harder, faster and faster, until I was gasping in short squeaks.  He ran his
lips over mine, which engulfed his over and over as he built up for orgasm.

When he started to come I gasped, "Don't come inside me, put it in my mouth,
please."

But he was already coming, he pulled back, sliding his orgasming dick out of
my smooth slick vagina.  His hand clutched the base of his dick in an
awkward way and though cum dribbled heavily off the tip none shot out.  He
had already come inside me, and I knew that the first shot was the one with
all the sperm, but he was waiting, expecting me to take the rest of it.  For
the fourth time, with as many men in one afternoon, I knelt down and parted
my thick luscious lips for a strange mans cock as life giving semen ran
through them onto my tongue, filling my world with the scent and taste of
semen.

I knelt there, moving my mouth up and down over his shaft, letting him milk
every last drop from his manhood into my body, a vessel for his pleasures.
I submitted myself to his guilty desires, proving true to his theory that I
was nothing but a beach slut who waited for men to take her in any way they
wished, all for the taste of his semen.

I licked and sucked on his shaft until it was clean but for my saliva, and
it was soft.  I felt his goo dribbling out of my hole as I knelt, my legs
spread apart, and I looked up into his soft adoring eyes.  All trace of
contempt was gone, and I thought again of my dad as he looked on so
lovingly, his penis in my mouth getting softer with every gentle suck or
squeeze with my thick pouting lips.  He seemed taller now, more confident,
while my tongue did laps around the head of his long penis.  He ran his
hands through my hair enjoying the service I was giving him.

He hadn't tasted so good.  He was lot like Evan, though it was bitter and
smelled bad, but I was eager to please him, as I was eager to please my
father when I would run home as a child with an A+ paper from school.  I
swallowed his semen with no difficulty this time, occupied as I was with
examining the taste and pleasuring his penis.

"All right little lady," he began, "That's enough." And he pulled his penis
out of my mouth.

"Yes sir," I said, "Can I go now?"

As he put his thing away and made himself decent he said, "Well don't you
think it's only fair that you do Charley too?"

I looked up at him, scared again, the warm comfortable feeling slipping away
as he looked on with displeasure.  I nodded my head to him and looked down.

A few moments later he was gone, and Charley had entered, looking nervous.
I waited for him to make a move , but when he didn't I realized that I was
going to have to make it for him.  I was scared of making Dan angry, so I
stood up, put my arms around Charley's tall shoulders and kissed him,
gently, then with growing passion on the lips.

Between kisses Charley mumbled, "Dan says you like it in the mouth."

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't.  I was playing a part and I had to see
it through, otherwise I might have three men's cum inside me.  I decided I
wouldn't let Dan down, but I would also cover my bases, I mean what's one
more mouthful of sperm.

"I love it when a men lets it go in my mouth."  I said as convincingly as I
could.  Then I reached down and started to stroke his cock through his
shorts.

Charley let me kiss him again, but when I started to go down he stopped me.

"Uh, I'm a bit old fashioned, could we do it normal for a bit first?"

Still playing the part I smiled broadly at him.  I suddenly pushed the
bathing suit down, relieving the awful pinching of the suit against my sides
and crotch.  Completely naked now I saw Charley looking me over with growing
interest.  He put his hands out and started to fondle me every which way, an
action which I found very soothing after all the men who had just forced
their way into my sex.  He kissed me all over and when I turned around he
moved up behind me.  I stepped up onto the ledge, pushed my butt out a bit,
and reached between my legs to take Charley's dick.  He had pulled it out
and I guided it inside me.  Taken from behind was much nicer as all the
bruising had been against my pelvic bone, though I was still very sore.
Charley had a nice penis.  It wasn't too long and its shaft wasn't too
thick, but he wasn't too small either.  It fit inside me nicely and I let
him have his way with me, running his hands over my body pushing himself
deep inside me, kissing my neck and shoulders and telling me the whole time
I was beautiful.  It was undoubtedly the single most pleasurable sex I had
ever had.  My hands being free to gently stroke myself I found myself rising
to climax quickly, grinding my ass back to meet Charley's steady deep
thrusts so as to increase my own pleasure.

For a man I hadn't wanted to touch a few minutes before I found myself
deeply aroused, but then, considering what I had been through today, being
at least half in control was definitely a big part of that.  For as long as
it had taken Dan it took Charley longer, pleasuring me with his deep steady
thrusting while I brought myself off with my hands.  Charley would stroke my
nipples whenever I came, sending lines of electricity through my body until
I was screaming and panting, gasping for air, unable to stand.

Charley had stopped, he was just holding me up, still buried inside my sex.

"What's wrong," I said, "I want you to finish."

He was silent for a moment, "I already did." He finally said, guiltily.

My high shattered.  Why wouldn't anyone listen to me.  Why did he have to
ruin such a wonderful experience by coming inside me, planting more chances
for me to get pregnant.  But then it wasn't the news so much as the
revelation that I had so willingly given myself over to these men that
brought me down so low.  It had been one thing for me to stand in fear as
the clerk molested me, or the bums forcefully had their way with me.  It was
another altogether to be encouraging total strangers to have sex with me, to
come in my mouth.

Charley was trying to be nice, "If you'd like there's probably some left."

I just shook my head, "I have to go meet my boyfriend." Tears were welling
up in my eyes

Charley seemed shocked to hear this, but he just let go, his softening dick
slipping out of me.  I bent down to retrieve my suit while Charley stared
sheepishly around him, then he moved towards the door.  I wanted to thank
him, or something, but I was too distraught at this new turn of events in my
life.  Was this how I held up to pressure?  Was this how I behaved when
things were against me?  Total submission?

Pulling on the bathing suit distracted me long enough to compose myself as
Charley walked out, Dan craning his neck to look in and catch another
glimpse of me.

After I was dressed I pushed open the stall door to find Dan and Charley
waiting.  They jerked to attention, but I just strode out and picked up my
dress, then made my way for the bathrooms with as much dignity as I could
muster.  I could feel Charley's sperms dribbling out of my vagina, dripping
down my thigh, but I pretended to ignore it as I brushed past the two of
them without comment, making my way to the bathrooms where hopefully they
had running water and a mirror.  I was conscious of the stares I was
attracting from people getting into and out of their cars.  The tiny suit
exposed my entire backside, but I just acted as if this was normal, and it
was since most women went around in less than I had on at the beach.

To get to the bathroom I had to pass by the teenagers who were skateboarding
off of the parking curbs.  They stopped, one by one, to stare as I walked
past, each one transfixed, several whistling or calling out to me to come
join them.  I plodded resolutely on towards the bathroom.

When I reached the door I turned around and saw the crowd of skaters, still
staring after me.  I looked straight at one of them, a tall boy older than
the rest, winked and blew him a kiss.  Then I walked into the bathroom.

The door was an iron grate that was chained open to the wall, but I hadn't
seen any women around the parking area and assumed I would have a few
minutes.  I dropped my dress and my purse, pulled the skimpy suit off my
body, cranked the sink to full and proceeded to douse myself in water.

At least I would be clean when I met Mickey later.

Well. most of me.

Rubbing the last of my smeared make-up off of my face I could feel the heat
of Charley's sperm running down my thigh.  I knew that without a douche or
an enema bag that there would be no way to purge the excess sperm swimming
around inside of me, but I started splashing myself there all the same.  It
was a sheer joy to feel the cold water rinsing the days filth from my skin,
letting all of the cum and piss run off me onto the floor to disappear into
the drain in the center of the room.

But the thought of all those tiny little sperm in my vagina wouldn't leave
me alone.  I knew I didn't have anything in my purse that would serve to
flush me out, and even though I knew I might already be pregnant or
diseased, the thought of leaving all that semen inside me to increase my
chances was making me weak and nervous.

I thought that maybe if I pushed something up inside me it would help purge
the infestation of unwelcome jism, but the biggest thing I had was a mascara
stick, and that was only three inches long.

Then I heard scuffling at the door.  I turned to look but saw nothing,
hearing only a telling "Shh."

It must have been the boys.  I started to kick myself for having winked, and
grabbed for my suit.

But then I realized that they might have something for my problem.

I startled, shaking my head.  I couldn't possibly be considering asking one
of them to have sex with me just to pump out the excess sperm in me could I?
I didn't know which thought was worse.  Further violating my promise to
Mickey to be faithful or to have to look him in the eye with the sperm of
three men swimming around inside me.  What if he wanted to fool around, what
if he touched me and found that my sex had been had by another man, how
could I explain that I was still his faithful girlfriend.

I heard some more scuffling, and clutching the skimpy suit to my chest
looked up, seeing two small faces peering in.  They both vanished as
suddenly.

"Hey." I whispered.

No reply.

"You can come in." I said, my legs shaking and my tummy quivering.  This was
the worst yet.  Before I had been violently taken, scared into submission,
and caught while in shock.  Now I was not only myself, but I was actively
soliciting another invasion into my privacy and my dignity.  What was worse,
I was doing it from two peeping tom teenagers, hardly out of puberty.

But still they didn't come out.

I took a step towards the doorway, their shadows clearly outlined on the
floor.  I clutched the suit to my chest, then realized that I would have to
show myself anyway if I was going to let one of them have me.  Besides, if
they were reluctant to listen, perhaps my body would convince them to be
bolder.

Dropping the suit and taking a deep breath I rounded the corner and stepped
into the blinding sun.

It only took a moment for my eyesight to return.  I was looking at two very
young teenagers, possibly younger than Evan.  Further away the entire crowd
of skateboarders, maybe ten boys were staring.  Obviously they had been
watching the two younger boys attempt to catch a glimpse of me.

Ten ,maybe more, boys staring at me, naked in full view.  My pale white
skin, shining with water still dripping off my nipples and beading up on my
glycerin coated labia, shaved and exposed for all to see.  I wanted to dart
back inside, but the damage was done, and I still didn't know what to do
about the sperm inside me.

Shaking, on the verge of tears, I looked at one of the two boys, a small guy
with longish brown hair falling in greasy locks over his shoulders.  Forcing
a weak smile on my lips I said,

"Don't you want to come in?"

He looked at his friend, then at the crowd of gawkers.  He took a step
towards me, his face dotted with tiny pimples, braces on his teeth.  He
looked at his friend once more, then reached out, taking me in his arms, and
planted a kiss on me, his braces rubbing painfully against my soft lips.  I
let him kiss me, running his hand down my body, while everyone watched me,
naked, taking this young boy.  To them it must have seemed that I was asking
him for it, and I was.  Just a wanton slut throwing myself around at any man
who comes near.

The other boy, a young curly haired boy stood up straight and barked, "What
about me?  It was my idea."  He was younger than the one who now held me.
The boy kissing me stopped, and clumsily pushed me towards the bathroom, for
privacy fortunately.  As we were walking in he turned over his shoulder and
said, "You can do her next."

Do her.  That's what they were doing, all of them.  The thought of letting
two boys take me made me mad, but I couldn't tell him why I was asking him
to do it.  I had to let them believe what they thought:  That I was just a
slut who couldn't wait for a dick in her pussy.

Stopping, I turned around and put my hand on the boy's shaft.  It was
already rock hard.  I pulled down his baggy swimming trunks just enough to
reveal it and wrapped my hand over its length.  It was pretty small, shorter
than Evans and not as thick, though it bowed out in the middle.  He was
staring at me with wide eyes, "M-my names. Mitch." He stammered unable to
believe what was happening to him.  I could understand why.  He wasn't an
attractive boy, but like Evan.  He was a geeky pimple faced kid.  He was
gangly, greasy, and for a thirteen year old had already started working on a
beer gut.  He had probably never even kissed a girl, and probably wouldn't
for years.  I imagined that I was building up to be the single biggest
thrill of his life.

He was gasping from the stroking I was giving him.  I realized I had to
explain the rules to him.

"Mitch, I want you to make love to me.  I want you to fuck me, right here,
right now," then I squeezed his shaft a little harder, he gasped again, "but
I don't want you to cum in me.  If you cum in me I'll get in trouble."  I
realized I would have to offer him an incentive to help avoid what Dan and
Charley had done.

"When you start to get close pull out, and I'll finish you off with my
mouth."  With that I planted another kiss on him, letting me feel the
softness and lusciousness of my lips.  I let him imagine what I would do
with those lips.  "I love the taste of cum, Mitch.  All I want is a taste of
your cum."

Then I let him go and looked for a place to lie down.  I grabbed my dress
off the floor and spread it out on a spot where there wasn't any water, not
that it mattered much; it was still damp from the bathroom where I'd eaten
Evans sperm.  I lay down on my back, while Mitch pulled his shorts off,
leaving him naked but for a pair of sneakers, which he left on.  He lay down
on top of me, hands and knees first, then crushed me as he tried to lie up
against me, clumsily not knowing what to do with his arms and legs.  He
started prodding me with his little thing, not knowing how to guide it in,
and I reached down and took it, aligning it with my vagina and putting my
hand on his bony butt and gently pulling.

That was the last gentle thing that happened.  For the next five minutes
Mitch lost control, stopping every minute or so as if about to cum.  I would
ask him to put it in my mouth, but he would say 'Just a bit longer.  You
feel so good.' Or 'You're so beautiful.'  I let him pummel away at him,
after all he was doing me a favor, I owed it to him to let him have a good
time though his skinny penis and jerky movements gave me little in the way
of pleasure.  Nevertheless I tried to make it better for him by matching his
thrusting and running my hands over his smooth boyish ass.  I kissed him a
lot, trying to show him how to make love to a grown woman and generally live
up to the greatest experience of his young life.  I wrapped my legs around
his narrow body, and ground my soft plush hips into his bony pelvis.

But when he started to cum he lost control, pushing down on me, forcing me
to take his sperm deep inside me, totally unaware of me, or anything else
for that matter.  He just shook and then froze on top of me.

"I'm sorry." He finally said, pulling off of me, as if he was ashamed.  He
sat up, looking down at my body, my breasts smashed flat on my chest, my
legs spread wide with my feet still resting on his hips, my pussy spread
open wide, still digesting his unwelcome bath of semen.  I couldn't believe
it.  Why couldn't anyone listen, now I had four men's sperm inside me.  The
thought of having exposed myself to all those men, and having betrayed
Mickey yet again with a near child made me want to cry.

"Oh Mitch-" I started saying, but I couldn't tell him what was really on my
mind, I had to pretend that I was disappointed that I hadn't gotten my
sperm.  Mitch blurted out,

"I still have some left."  With that he hopped to his feet and scampered
around to my head, kneeling down and offering me up his penis, still erect,
but covered with bubbling globs of beige goo.

What could I do?  I had told him I craved the taste of sperm, he was just
trying to be nice.  For the umpteenth time that day, I leant over to open my
lips and take a man's penis in my mouth.  Opening my mouth I licked my lips
and pushed my little tongue out.  Then a scuffling sound alerted me to the
door, and between my spread legs I could see four or five faces peering in.
They had seen the whole show, and were now staring at my wide-open labia as
I craned my neck to sample the last dribbled of semen from Mitch's mouth.  I
couldn't stop.  Something inside made me continue, leaving my legs open
while all those boys stared at me.  I started lapping up the drops of Mitch'
s jizz, then took the thin shaft in my mouth, rolling my tongue over it and
running my plush lips up and down the length of his shaft while Mitch moaned
hysterically.

Having tasted Mitch's sperm, a faintly bleachy but otherwise bland taste I
let him go and laid back down.  "It was great Mitch."

"Can I be next?" a cry went up from the crowd at the door.  "I'll cum in
your mouth."  The boys burst out laughing, but the little curly haired boy
strode out from the crowd, only to be grabbed by another, bigger boy.  The
big boy, who must have been almost 18 pulled him back and stepped up to the
front.

"How about it miss?"  he asked politely, "I mean, can we uh." but shyness or
just plain embarrassment stopped his voice.

I propped myself up on my elbows.  With all these boys watching it would be
humiliating, but I was already humiliated, tears welling up in my eyes and
my breathing short and quick.  The thought of one more stranger sampling my
body was terrifying to say the least, but now I not only had Dan's, Charley'
s and the black mans sperm inside me, but Mitch's too.  I don't know why I
thought that letting another man fuck me would pump the sperm out, but I was
desperate for anything at this point to reduce the chances I'd get pregnant.

"If you promise to cum in my mouth." I blurted out, my stomach seizing up at
what I had just asked for.  In front of a growing crowd of boys, my legs
spread wide, I had just offered to trade sex for a mouthful of cum.

The older boy gestured over his shoulder at the group, "For all of us?" he
asked, smiling again.

I looked up and counted almost twelve smiling young acne ridden faces.

Looking back at the older boy I shook my head, closing my legs and starting
to pick myself up.

He said, "That's the deal." Calmly, though I could see his hands were
shaking.

How could I endure twelve boys fucking me, pummeling me with their thin and
thick shafts?  Would any of them be able to control themselves better than
Mitch had, or even Dan and Charley for that matter?  I realized right then
and there that my plan was futile, even if I did manage to pump out the
semen there would still be sperm untouchable in my uterus.  Now the sperm of
four men.  At that I realized that I might wind up with the sperm of sixteen
men inside me if I was to let this continue.

"No," I whimpered, "No, please just leave me alone."

But the boys were there in force, I had already offered myself to one of
them, and he didn't seem about to give up his claim.  Not with the twelve of
them backing him up.  I began to get scared.  Real scared.  I was losing
control of the situation again, and realized that the only hope I had was to
give into them.  That way I could, perhaps, keep them from coming inside me
again.

But I had made the older boy mad.  He took a meaningful stride towards me.
I don't know if he was ready to really rape me yet, but I was so scared that
having all the other, younger boys looking on might hurt his pride if I didn
't placate him.

"I'm sorry." I sat up, crossing my legs and putting my hands in my lap.  I
could feel Mitch's cum gathering in my labial folds. "I'm just still sore
from Mitch."  I tried to explain, not wanting to admit that I had been had
by so many men that day, or to the extent that I was sore.  "I don't have
any protection from pregnancy, and I was afraid." I ran out of things to
say, so I added, "There are so many of you."

The older boy seemed satisfied.  He had saved his pride, and, of course, he
was still going to get to have me.  He shooed Mitch away with his hand,
Mitch scampered off to find his shorts, then he turned to the boys and
shouted for them to leave, to go outside and wait until I was ready for
them.  He seemed to have taken charge of the distribution of my body.

As the boys scurried out he sat down next to me, running his hands down my
back and sides, reaching up to touch my breasts, "I've never been with a
girl who's tits were as big as yours."  He said cradling my boob.

"Please," I asked submissively, "Don't let them all in here to fuck me." I
rubbed my crotch for added emphasis, to remind his that I was sore.

"Well you can give some of them blow jobs, right?" he asked, but it wasn't
so much a question as a matter of fact statement.  That would certainly
help, but the thought of that much cum, the thought of giving myself to so
many boys, there was no way I could submit myself to the most degrading act
I could to twelve strangers who weren't old enough to drive.

He went on, pushing his hand down to my pussy where he explored freely as I
moved my hands for him, "That's what you said to Mitch wasn't it?"  I looked
at him questioningly and he explained, "That you love eating cum."

Caught in the lie I had no choice but to nod nervously.

He smiled and pulled his shorts down, pushing me down onto my dress, "Don't
worry," he said, "I'll let you eat mine like you did Mitch." Then he climbed
on top and with only slightly more elegance than Mitch started to fuck me.
His dick wasn't much bigger, but it filled me nicely, like Charley's did,
and his fucking was all right I suppose, for how sore I was.  I treated him
much like I had treated Mitch, doing everything I could for him to make him
as satisfied as possible, including bucking up to meet his thrusts and
kissing him passionately.  Unlike Mitch he pulled out just in time,
splattering me with his sperm, and lunging forward to thrust his sputtering
cock into my mouth, which he fucked and pumped into, milking himself on my
lips while I struggled to keep from gagging on the strong acrid jizz.  I
forced it down, gulping shot after shot of the nasty stuff, while he rocked
back and forth, finally coming to a halt.

He got up, pulled his shorts up while I panted heavily, lying on my back
with cum splattered all over me.  I heard a footstep, then opening my eyes
saw another boy undoing his shorts, this one stripping completely naked.  I
shot up, my breasts colliding painfully in the center and swinging back and
forth. "Let me give you a blow job." I offered, half beggin', but he shook
his head, "I've never been with a girl before." He admitted blushing, "I
just wanted."

I looked at him, sympathy for the boy welling up in me, but how could he be
so selfless for my needs.  I laid back down, letting the chubby youth stroke
me with his stubby fingers.  He was pretty fat, and like Mitch had probably
never even dated.  I was probably the only chance he'd have to have sex for
years. "You sure are one hot chick." He said, and while I spread my legs
open he mounted me, his girth knocking my wind out and the sweaty flesh
mashed into me.  He spent a lot of time playing with me; sucking on my
breasts, fingering my pussy, just exploring my body, and I gave it to him
with everything I could.  I gave him more than I had given to Mitch, serving
him like a high-class prostitute, making sure that everything was as
wonderful as possible for him.  Why I tried so hard for him and the boy
after him, and the one after that I don't know, but for some reason it was
very important that I make sure they all had the time of their lives,
perhaps to add some meaning to my total degradation.  I humiliated and
debased myself so low that the chance to raise my esteem in their eyes must
have been my only hope of redemption.  I let the fat boy cum inside me, and
the one after that.  When the older boy came back for seconds I went down on
him in spite of the acrid taste.  In fact I begged him for the chance to I
was getting so sore.  After what might have been hours while the boys
guarded the doors (as I found out from one of them who had trouble getting
an erection) I was exhausted, drenched in cum, saliva and my own juices.  I
hadn't had a single orgasm, but the task of servicing all those boys had
driven the need from me, making me numb in my sheer exhaustion.

My arms, mouth and legs were all sore, my pussy ached ferociously.  Thick
white creamy globules now ran freely, a solid line from my labia to the
floor, and puddling up around my ass.  When the older boys came back for
seconds they wouldn't touch my pussy thank god, so drenched in cum it was.
I had to fellate them, however, turning my soft lips into the service my
labia were meant to perform, and taking all their sperm, some salty, some
bitter, but swallow it all I had to and I did, until I was full of it.

The jizz was all over my face, slicking back my hair, covering my wide
flanks and tummy, spreading down in a viscous cloudy pool to my knees.  My
dress had soaked so much sperm that the goo now just pooled up between the
folds.

Actually a bit of cum had dribbled out of me and stained the front of the
skirt, but damnit, that was how it felt to have all those boys use me.  A
teaspoon of semen feels like a gallon when you've been forced to assimilate
twelve of them into your body multiple times through one orifice or another
in under an hour.  I had been splattered in the face and the tummy so many
times I had no idea how many times I'd been used, and as I pulled myself up
off the ground I was genuinely astonished to see myself in the mirror.

I was a bit sweaty, my nipples were purple and swollen, and my hair was a
mess, but otherwise I looked absolutely normal.  I couldn't believe that
being drenched in semen I wasn't a lumpy white mess..  The normal wetness in
my crotch couldn't possibly be the semen of ten or twelve men could it?

I was cold, sore, and weak, and I stepped into my suit, the last of the boys
sitting on the ground were I had just made him cum into my mouth watching as
I pulled the thin scrap of cloth into the line between my butt cheeks.
Smiling whenever I looked at him, acting like we were in love or something.

I just smiled back, feeling guilty somehow for the contempt I had for him.
Didn't he know that I had been terrorized all day?  Didn't he know that when
twelve men confront a girl that there is no way to say "no."

Stuffing my breasts into the suit I washed my face again, pushing my hair
back and rinsing and spitting, rinsing and spitting, but I couldn't get the
taste of cum out of my mouth.  So much cum.

I felt a hand touch my behind.  The boy was there.  In the mirror I saw
another couple of boys, probably checking to see if they could get their
seconds or thirds.

"You were great." He said.  "My names Dave.  What's yours."

As I stood, bending over a sink with a fourteen year old with greasy skin
fondling my ass he asked me my name.  As I rinsed my mouth out over and over
to wash the taste of him and his buddies cum from my mouth he rubbed and
pinched and squeezed.  As I fretted over the ramifications of having had at
least ten or fifteen different loads of sperm shot at my cervix he was
trying to be social.

I stopped washing, grabbing his hand roughly and pushing it away.  I spun
around and  looked at one of the other boys, a short chubby one that clung
to a skateboard like it was a teddy bear, "Give me your shirt."  He paused
for a moment, then pulled it off.  I snatched it from him and proceeded to
dry my face off, then my neck and chest while three boys who had just had
their penis' in me gazed on, watching me strut around in a skimpy one piece
bathing suit that probably would have gotten me arrested in Brazil.

"Sluts don't have names." I said to the boy who had just fed me my last
serving of jism.  "We're just here for your amusement."

He was dumbfounded, so were the other two boys.  I went over to where my
dress was.  It was partly dry from the days heat, though the sweat stain
from my body and the cum stain were pretty noticeable.  I ran the spot under
the faucet.

"Hey, I wasn't trying to." the boy finally replied, "Uh, insult you.  I was
just wonderin' if you wanted to go over to the park with us."  I snapped a
glare at him, and he added, "After you get dressed, I mean.  I mean there's
some goth girls that hang out."

How the fuck he knew I was a goth I'll never guess.  My velvet dress could
have been on the back of any street hooker, and he had only seen me bare-ass
naked and in this disgusting one-piece with the pink stripe.

"Look," I explained wringing the skirt of my dress out, "You don't take a
girl out who you and all your buddies have fucked.  You don't buy her
dinner, you don't take her to a movie, you don't introduce her to your other
girlfriends."

"He doesn't have any girlfriends." The fat boy chimed in, "You're his first
lay!" he laughed, and the other boy with him laughed also.

"And what are you!?" I snapped.

His friend, another boy about fourteen with collar length hair blurted out,
"He didn't get his turn.  Prancer pushed him out of the way and went in."

I looked at the fat kid, "You didn't get to have me?" I grinned mercilessly
at him.

He looked at the ground and shook his head.

"That's pretty sad, isn't it?" I looked around at the boys, all of them were
trying to find something else to look at.  Inexplicably I started to feel
bad for the kid, left out when all his friends had had the time of their
lives.

"Shit." I said, dropping my dress I kneeled on the floor in front of the fat
kid, "You ever been with a girl before?"

He shook his head nervously.  I yanked his shorts down and grabbed his thing
with my hand.  It was already rock solid and god damnit if he didn't have
the biggest dick I'd seen on any of the boys.  It wasn't as wide as the
black mans, but it was a good two hand lengths long.

"What's your name kid?" I asked looking up at him, running the long tube
along my wide lower lip.

"They call me. Peewee.  Cause I'm fat, y'know." he was gasping now.

"They're gonna have to start calling you Tiny," I said, licking the head of
his cock making him shudder. "You've got the biggest dick I've ever seen." I
lied.

I looked to his friends to see their reaction, but I couldn't tell if they
had heard because they just stared wide-eyed.  I went on,

"I'm glad you didn't get to fuck me, this monster would have spit me in
 two." And I engulfed the rod with my mouth, just as he started to cum.

After a minute or two of milking him dry I realized that he hadn't tasted
too bad.  Having swallowed so much cum that day I was becoming an
aficionado, and his jism had tasted faintly sweet, with only a vague bleach
smell.  I told him so, planting a monster kiss on the little rat, his hands
reaching up to squeeze my breasts, his long dick poking me in the tummy,
still hard, still vibrating with his pulsing orgasm.

I still couldn't believe the way I was acting, after having let
preadolescent children take me, after having welcomed two middle aged men
into my arms, after giving myself to bums and all these kids my behavior
still astonished me.  Without even caring any more I pulled the crotch of my
suit aside, set my butt onto  the sink and said, "Come on Tiny."  He looked
up astonished, so did the other boys.  I continued, "You're so short and fat
no girl is ever gonna let you touch her to find out about that long thing of
yours.  Why waste the opportunity?"

Again I exposed myself for strange men to see, but they had all had me hadn'
t they?  They had all put their things inside me.  It wasn't as if I had
anything to hide from them.  I reached up and pulled the straps off my
shoulder, letting my breasts fall so Peewee would have the same chance to
play as the other boys.

I hated long dicks.  They jabbed you hard in the cervix, stretched you out,
and generally made your life miserable, but some masochistic twig had
snapped in me and I was begging for more punishment, something to ice the
cake on my martyrdom.

Surprisingly enough it didn't hurt at all, aside from the soreness I already
felt as the chubby ugly kid drove his thing in me.  He hardly had to stoop
to get it under me, and I guess he didn't know much about using his hips
since he just prodded me with it while I held him close in my arms and
kissed him passionately;  Stopping and chiding him every time he bit my lip
by accident, forcing him to kiss me like a man, making him loosen his grip
on my breasts and caress them gently, showing him how a woman likes to have
her nipples stroked, how I did when they weren't so sore.

As he came inside me, filling me with yet another teaspoon that felt like a
deluge I realized that I had probably just made his life.  I had given him
something that he would never forget and for some reason I found myself
deriving satisfaction from that.  Gasping and panting he leaned heavily on
me as his thing shriveled up inside me, and I laughed out loud.  Me, the
high school nerd, the reject who people laughed at and called slut even
though I was a virgin until 19, was now running around serving adolescent
geeks unfulfilled dreams and making them feel like real men.

Of course a real man has to learn how to earn a woman's love and trust, and
know how to keep her around, but that wasn't my problem.  These weren't men
yet.  They were boys.

I pushed the kid off of me and picked up my dress, plying the crotch of the
suit to cover my smooth shaven labia and hauling the suit up to stabilize my
flopping breasts.  I pulled the damp dress over my head, getting it on with
some struggle and then opened up my purse, putting on make-up while the boys
made themselves comfortable, waiting on me like handmaidens.



When I stepped out of the bathroom with the three kids in tow I was good to
go.  Except for my wet hair and bare legs and feet you wouldn't have known
that I had been raped, fucked, and cum on more than a dozen times that day.
I was everything a gothic girl should be, pale face, dark eyes, blood red
lipstick smeared thick over my ample lips, I had even pulled a strand of
hair down to fall over one eye.  There were about three guys still hanging
out, the older ones, and they stood up as if at attention when I arrived.
One of them, the oldest guy who had had me first and then two more times
after that stepped up to me.

I stopped him, "Unless you plan on bullying me back into that bathroom to do
you all again I suggest you get the fuck out of my way!" I growled.

He was taken aback, and his face went pale, "But I.  But you wanted.  I just
wanted to know your name."

I stepped around him and started back towards the beach, "Tell him Dave."

Walking away I heard, "She's a slut.  Sluts don't have names."

The sun was still high, but I had been at this parking lot for a long time.
I started thinking up an excuse as my legs grew wobbly and my heart started
to thump harder and harder.  I just hoped that I wouldn't cry and make a
mess of my make-up



I sat on the beach, soaking wet, but wrapped tightly in the body glove like
it was armor.  It clung to my body like a thick skin, but it's density and
tight fit pressed into my body, making me feel more like I was heavily
shielded than exposing my curves to the world.  It was black with blue
swatches sewn in at dramatic angles, and zipped tightly up the back.

I had been a failure at boogie boarding.  Nothing I could do would keep me
on top of a wave for more than a couple seconds, then the wave would pass me
by and I would be left to kick back out to where I had started and try
again.  I had finally given up, coming to the shore to hang out with Evan
and Arnold while Mickey persevered.  I didn't mind, since my mind wasn't
really into the whole idea of having fun on the beach so much as
recuperating in a nice hot bath.  Maybe a little hot tea and professional
therapy.

But I was so scared of the consequences and humiliation, even of having what
little Evan knew of my trials that day, that I went along with the guys,
trying to be a sport.  Evan seemed to be very nervous and uncomfortable, but
I guess he was as scared as I was that Mickey would suspect something was
up.  He did a good job of keeping his distance.  I was, however, more aware
than ever of Arnold's leering glares.

He was still only eighteen but he and Mickey were fast friends from high
school, which Arnold still hadn't graduated from.  He was average height,
average build, average everything I guess.  He refused to take off his
T-shirt or to get in the water, I knew from Mickey it was because he had
back pimples, and he insisted on trying to grow a mustache, though I couldn'
t imagine why since he had only sparse growth that made him look dirty, and
even a little greasy.  He wasn't goth, like me and Mickey, but wore jeans
and T-shirts like most guys, only his were always heavy metal bands.  His
hair was about shoulder length, and usually looked unwashed and uncombed.

In short, I thought he was a total nerd.  Not that I'm one to make judgments
like that being a freak, but after two years freedom of the domination of
high school I had become very picky about who I did and didn't hang out
with.  Guys who leered at me like junior high school students or
construction workers didn't fall into my usual company, but I loved Mickey,
and usually could tolerate such treatment.

Of course, today was a different story.  Mickey and I had just come out of
the water.  He was ready to go back for more, but I was done.  Evan had
clamored up wanting to try, but with the freezing Pacific ocean there was no
way he could go unless he had a body suit.  Mickey only had brought two.  I
had tried to let them let me go up the beach and to the car to retrieve my
dress, but Evan let it slip that I had a bathing suit under the body glove,
and I was stuck.  I had tried to tell them that it was indecent but they all
laughed that off, chalking it up to my usual inhibition about showing skin.
Then Mickey had run off, saying he was going to try some better waves he had
heard about down the beach.

Left alone with Evan who already knew me intimately, and Arnold who lusted
after me, I reluctantly reached back, and grabbing the zipper I undid the
suit and started to pull it off of me, but in its wetness it was terribly
difficult.  I looked over at Evan, who waited smiling maliciously.  He had
prodded me in front of Mickey encouraging everyone to believe that I was
just being overly modest, and I was.  I knew that.  But they didn't know the
full extent as to why I was so scared to pull down the suit.  They didn't
have any desire to respect my body.  Mickey was only interested in having
fun, Evan wanted to make me cringe, and Arnold wanted to see me exposed, as
Evan had finally.

At least I was in a very public place.  I may have felt indecent, but a lot
of people dressed like I would be, and certainly no one would try to rape
me.

Besides, I figured I would just get out of the suit and run up to the car
parked on the cliff behind us where the road ran.  Looking up and down the
beach there were a couple dozen people.  A lot of guys and a few girls,
either sunbathing, playing Frisbee, or playing in the waves.  Most of them
were in swimsuits despite the cool breeze.  Sitting in the sun did a lot to
push off any chill that might come up.

I guess Evan lost patience with my procrastination because he walked up and
started helping me undress.  He started by pulling on the collar.

"C'mon I want to catch up with Mickey." And with another of his diabolical
grins he roughly tugged at the suit, pulling it down over my breasts, which
sprang free from the confines like flowers from a magician's sleeve.  I saw
Arnold sit up, craning his neck to see more.  I snapped a glare at him, but
he only smiled back at me while I let Evan strip me completely, taking no
compunction not to touch me or squeeze me wherever the need arose.  At one
point he dug his hands into the suit, one hand firmly over each cheek.
Looking again at Arnold I saw him raising an eyebrow to the tolerance with
which I let Evan touch me.  When Evan used his leverage to pull the suit
down over my hips Arnold raised both eyebrows, his mouth parting slightly as
Evan revealed to him the whole of my exposed ample buttocks, firm, pale
white, with an adolescent hand planted firmly on each half.  Only the thin
black strip of cloth that bunched up in a wad on its way up my spine
prevented me from revealing to the world what I had already revealed to, and
shared with, so many.

Lifting up my feet so Evan could pull the suit off completely I saw Arnold's
eyes riveted to my crotch area, barely covered by the thin swatch of fabric.

Pulling the suit free Evan stood up, his free hand dangling between my
thighs.

"Don't go anywhere now."

I scowled at him, but his fingers ran up my thigh and cupped my crotch.

"How about a kiss?" he sneered.

I tried to dart my eyes at Arnold who stared wide-eyed, trying to comprehend
what was going on, but his eyes were more interested in my butt than Evan's
behavior.

I kissed him, my luscious lips pressing on his skinny mouth and he squeezed
my sex, tight, pulling on the fabric, which strained against my crotch.
Suddenly he let go, picked up the boogie board under his arm and ran off
after Mickey.  He was so young.  A grown woman reduced to serving his every
pleasure and he was more interested in boogie boarding.  I heard a whistle,
and then someone call out.  Looking around me I realized that I had caught
the attention of a few guys who had been boogie boarding as well, but were
now resting on the beach in their tight body suits.  They watched, smiling
at me while I stood there feeling exposed and unprotected again.  I moved
over to Arnold and sat down next to him, hoping that his presence would keep
any men from wandering over.

Not that his presence was welcome, just his affiliation with my brother felt
safer than standing alone in that skimpy suit would have.

Arnold scooted over a bit, positioning himself so he would be facing me
slightly.  "You look nice." He said, but I already knew what he thought.  He
hadn't even looked up from my juggling boobs only half covered to tell me.
He went on, "You should dress down more often."

I glared at him, frowning.

"I didn't mean it like that." He said, laughing out loud. "I just meant that
you're always so embarrassed to show any skin."  His eyes were peering under
my bent knees pulled tightly together to look at the crotch of the suit half
buried in the sand which spread around my cheeks with a warm scratchy
embrace.  He looked up smiling, "I mean other girls do it."

I snapped back, "Why is it okay?  Why should I have to show my body to any
man who wants to look just because other girls do it?"

He used the opportunity to look me over.  I could see him shift his
position, trying to hide his growing erection.  Jesus Christ, even without
touching me I was again being used as a sex object.  He leaned forward, and
reaching a finger out in a pointing gesture leveled it at one of my breasts.

"You've got a tear." He said.  I looked down, just in time to see the suit
ripping where my breasts pushed out the most.  Right where, to my horror, my
erect nipple was sticking out, its quarter-inch protruding.  His finger didn
't stop though.  Maybe he thought that Evans groping meant that I was a lot
more liberal about physical contact than I had led him to believe, or maybe
he was so taken aback by my partial nudity that he lost sense of our
boundaries.  Either way his finger stuck in and hooked the torn portion.  I
could feel the threads ripping further as his knuckle ground into my nipple,
swollen from the cold water.

I sat there, my legs spread around him as I had shifted position to look at
myself while his single warm finger sent tingling waves of heat into my cold
nipple, knots into my tummy, and a familiar buzzing glow into my groin.

"Don't!" I barked at him.

He looked up at my face, pale and nervous.  He yanked his finger out,
another rapid fire thumping as thread ripped further and snatched his hand
away.  We both stared at each other in shock at what he had done.  I was
infuriated at the sensation he had caused me, inadvertently triggering my
learned instincts to become aroused and paralyzed when embarrassed.  I was
also concerned that he had noticed how long it had taken me to make him move
his finger.  What if it occurred to him to stick it somewhere else?

"I-I'm sorry." he began to say, then burst out laughing.  I looked at myself
again, and his finger had caused the tear to be much larger.  The whole of
my aureoles was revealed now, and I do not have small nipples.  The
tightness of the suit caused it to jut out, almost comically.  If Arnold had
ever wondered what my nipples were like, and I was sure he had, he now knew.

I covered it with one hand, "Give me your shirt!" I snapped.

But he shook his head. "In this sun I'd get heatstroke and fry in five
minutes."

I grimaced at the lie and the laughing man in front of me, his gaze
wandering freely over my body again, "I just need it to get to the car."
Arnold was staring at my crotch again.  I knew that it showed a lot, but the
seam that ran right down the middle to accommodate the pink swatch was also
straining.  I could see my pale white skin through the threads.  I became
terrified that I would burst right out of the suit at any moment.

But I also knew that was ludicrous.  The suit would have torn up inside the
body glove.  I had only to get to the car so I could cover myself up and end
this nightmare once and for all.

Arnold placed his hand on my thigh, again exhibiting the boldness that must
have come from watching Evan undress me.  I started to grab his hand, but
when he pulled my leg so it was further spread from the other one I froze,
my hand holding his, and looked at what he was seeing.

The joining of the crotch, a short seam only a couple inches long had split
entirely.  It was only held in place by two thick threads that had made up
the almost invisible hem of the suits legs.  Arnold shifted his hand further
up my thigh and leaned in for a closer look at my bald, smooth labia
spreading under the pressure of my position and the tight suit.  The pink
meat of my inner lips was sticking out.  I was, of course, glistening with
moisture.  Most of it was from the sea, but neither Arnold nor I could avoid
the unmistakable scent of a woman.  His hand was only a few inches from my
exposed sex.  He was using my predicament to cop a few cheap feels, not to
mention to have license to gawk with impunity.

It was only his lack of overtness that kept me from exploding in his face.
Overall he remained no more obvious than a casual boyfriend might be with
his girlfriend.  Most people were too far away to notice what were actually
small tears in my suit and I realized that if I made a scene I would not
only be half naked, but I would reveal the other half in the act.

Catching another strong whiff of myself I hoped that Arnold would assume
that my scent was only the normal odor of a woman, rather than the
lubricating emissions of a woman's overused vagina.

"Arnold," I murmured quietly at him, leaning over to speak into his ear,
"Please move your hand."

But his finger was on the prowl again, this time over the edge of the suit
where it ran down my tummy into my exposed sex.  "I'm just checking for more
tears." He said, as if he was doing me a favor as he ran his fingers under
the fabric, just a few inches above my exposed lips.  I wanted to sit down
on them, to hide them from his studious gaze, but the thought of grinding my
sex into the sand sounded horribly painful.

"Arnold this isn't helping." I said.  His finger ran up and down sending
shivers through me, each touch pinching a nervous knot in my stomach, which
I sucked in with all my might to lessen the intensity.  This served only to
pull my hips up higher, and I watched, gasping and panting as he went lower
and lower.

"Arnold please, this isn't the place for this?"  He looked up suddenly,
watching me pant.  He looked at my flushed chest, my erect nipples sticking
up, even the one that wasn't exposed was plainly visible.  He looked down
again at my glistening labia, my hips swishing around in the sand as he
moved his finger.

I looked at the pole in his shorts and knew what he was thinking.  He was
thinking that he had somehow magically gotten me so turned on that I was
heaving and panting from pleasure, not the terror of being exposed in front
of dozens of people.  Certainly not the discomfort of having my fiancé's
best friend taking advantage of me while I was scared and wouldn't be able
to scream, or smack him.

He was still groping me with his fingers as he scooted around and put his
arm around me, his hand falling to rest on my utterly bare hipbone.  "It's
okay," he said "When Evan gets back we'll get you into the suit quickly.
Until then, if anyone comes by, I'll cover you up."

I didn't know whether he thought he was being comforting or if he was now
thinking that I would enjoy the chance for a little fooling around.  Maybe
he thought in his ignorant male way that he was getting me off, and thus
keeping my mind off my situation.

As if to illustrate, one of the boys who had whistled at me was walking in
our direction.  Arnold grabbed my breast with his free hand, and to my shock
and sheer terror, plunged the other between my legs.  His warm hand a de
facto patch for my exposed lips.  I felt his dry touch sliding against my
ever more moist lips as the boy walked past.  He watched with some amazement
at me as I sat there submitting to Arnold's crude groping.  I realized I was
staring, and turned away to find Arnold's face right next to mine, his wiry
whiskers tickling my lips and nose.

"Is this really necessary?" I demanded.

"Well did you want him to see you?" he replied, his fingers now squeezing at
my nipples, his other hand stroking me very softly.

"You've been waiting for a chance like this for a long time haven't you?"

He looked at me as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar,
then regaining his composure resumed his stroking, "Well how else would you
explain to them why my hand is where it is?"  I could feel one finger
probing further than I thought he would have dared, even at this point.

My mouth fell open, but I realized again that he was just making it up as he
went along.

Another person, this one an older man with his wife and daughter were
heading straight towards us.  It would only be a few seconds, so rather than
try to sort it out with Arnold I found myself kissing him, hoping he had
seen the couple as well.

My only hope was that they would not notice the state I was in, or Arnold's
odd hand placement and that they would find a place far away from us young
"lovers."

I wrapped my closer arm over his waist, leaning into him as he continued to
squeeze and now poke at me, his uncut nails stabbing painfully into my
tender skin.  He kissed me back with growing passion, his hand tucking
itself under my suit to explore my breast further, I could hear the tearing.
I opened my eyes, hoping that the couple was gone, but they were only a few
yards closer to us.  The stabbing in my crotch was getting painful as Arnold
moved his hungry fingers around, but I could find no means to stop him just
yet.

"A little higher," I whispered as we kissed.  Arnold didn't need directions,
he had just needed permission, and he wasted no time plunging one, then two,
then three of his fingers into me, making me gasp.  Struggling hard not to
cry out I kissed Arnold with growing ferocity, biting his lips, my hand
strayed to his cock and I grabbed it trying to hurt him, squeezing it with
all my force but he only moaned, and responded by pushing harder and harder
into my dripping hole.  The pain was intense, it was growing worse than the
scratching had been.  I pulled my mouth away and looked up, shoving his hand
out of me with a great sigh of relief.  Looking around I saw the family
moving away down the beach, the man looking over his shoulder at me with
distaste.  Looking around us I saw a lot of people with similar expressions.
What had meant to be an act of concealment had made exhibitionists out of
both of us.

Of course he was still dressed, and I was wearing tattered rags.  He
probably didn't mind the mishap a bit.  It was that whole slut-stud double
standard by which men who sleep around are lauded and praised, but women who
do are defiled and vilified.

The tear over my nipple ran down the length of my suit, ending right above
Arnold's hand which hovered "protectively close to my exposed sex, now
wholly so as Arnold's eager probing had ripped the last two shreds of
dignity I had left.  His other hand still cradled my breast, though it
seemed to have lost all pretense of coverage.

I squeezed Arnold's penis, its long and thick shaft surprising me with its
bulk, "Arnold do you like what I'm doing to you?"

He said 'yeah,' and leaned back into me, trying to kiss me again, his hand
going back to caress my womanhood.  I put my free hand up in front of his
mouth, letting his stoke and grope me.  The shape of his penis made me
wonder momentarily what he tasted like.

I moved my hand down a little until I had a testicle.  Arnold gasped.

"Arnold." I said.

"Yes." He groaned.

"If you don't give me your shirt I'm taking this instead.



He followed me up the hill, apologizing profusely, saying it was all a
misunderstanding, that he hadn't seen any family of three, and begging me
not to tell Mickey.  He was right behind me the whole way, a few steps lower
on the rocky trail up to the car park.  I knew he had a ripe view of my
loins the whole way up in spite of the low hanging T-shirt, but I didn't
care much.

It really didn't matter.

I remember thinking at that point that it would be better to just get it
over with and to show the whole world.  Looking down the hill to the people
frolicking on the beach I wondered about Mickey, and if I would ever
willingly let a man have sex with me again.  I knew right then that my
situation with Evan was moot.  I would have to leave Mickey.

I stared out at the ocean for a long time trying to discern his body from
the innumerable bodies in the water, but shortly gave up.

Reaching the car I extracted the key Mickey keeps hidden under a fender and
opened the back door.  Inside the car was a bag with, wonder of wonders, a
fresh change of clothes.  I turned to Arnold, scanning the area as I did it.
There were some sightseers, light traffic, and a lot of people below us on
the beach.

I tore off the T-shirt, throwing it at Arnold.  He frantically pulled it on,
his reddening chest proving that his assertion earlier had been no lie.  He
was extremely sensitive to the sun.  I had one breast hanging out, the torn
crotch meant that the suit hardly came down to my navel, and with one brutal
yank I tore at the suit, peeling it away from my body as Arnold stared in
wonder and amazement.  The sleeves were holding out against my best efforts,
and still looking at Arnold I said, "What are you doing just standing
 there?"

He snapped from his reverie, grabbed a shoulder strap and yanked hard,
pulling on me but succeeding in ripping the last shreds of the suit from my
body.

Totally naked in public once again I climbed into the car.  I laid out on my
back and lifted up one leg exposing some space on the seat.

Looking back up at Arnold who stood still holding the remains of my swimsuit
dumbfounded I repeated myself, "What are you waiting for."

Arnold took a moment, looked around us, but deciding it was worth the risk
pushed his baggy shorts down enough to expose his penis and climbed inside
the car.

He lasted only minutes, but his eager thrusting filled me up utterly,
spreading me wide, forcing me to arch and buck to accommodate his girth and
length.  Pumping his semen inside me he cried out my name, telling me how
much he'd always wanted me, telling me that to him I was the only woman in
the world.  That I was the only woman he'd ever loved.

Some tiny, very small part of me was glad that I'd gotten to give this to
him since I told myself then that it would be the last time a man ever had
sex with me.

I gave him a few minutes then made him get off of me and stand watch as I
got dressed, this time thankfully in a pair of slacks.

Mickey and Evan took a long time in returning, but I refused to leave the
car.  Arnold didn't mind waiting, and my curiosity getting the better of me,
I discovered that he too had a slightly sweet flavor, with almost no trace
of the smell of bleach.

He didn't try making any more passes at me, and oddly enough I realized that
he wasn't staring at my breasts when he looked at me, but deeply into my
eyes.

Poor sap.



In the months that followed he came over to my apartment a lot.  He had
stopped spending time with Mickey after I broke it off with him, and started
dressing in black, presumably to impress me. I would usually take the time
to give him a blow job, sometimes I'd even let him undress me and run his
hands over me, fingering me to an orgasm as I bucked and gasped.

But I never let him sleep with me.

He sported the money for my abortion, thinking that it was his fault.  Who
knows, it might have been his, but I appreciated the gesture all the same.
We never got too close.  He wanted to be closer, but I would always stop him
when the conversation strayed into territory I was uncomfortable with.
Usually by going down on him or stripping myself.  Sometimes when he
persisted I would finger myself until he took over, letting him make the
world go away in the wake of a violent orgasm or a mouthful of jizz.

When things got too rough, and Arnold wasn't around I would drive over to
Mickey's parent's house, knock on Evan's window, and get my escape from him.
I taught him everything about loving a woman, giving him a lot of what I
wouldn't give to Arnold.  But Evan had a world of his own, and though he
always wanted my body, and he always took it -sometimes making me call in
sick for him at school, or play his big sister to get him out of classes-
but he rebuffed me just as often, never wanting to spend time after he had
cum.

I even gave him my sex, letting him use me as he wanted to, putting his
semen inside me.  But as before he would lose interest when he came.  He
lost interest in making me cum and sometimes would rebuff me completely.
There were times, when his parents were asleep and we had just made love in
his bedroom at home, he would throw me out naked, leaving me to get dressed
in the cold night.  Once I had left my dress inside, and had to drive home
naked.  Getting home to find a late night party going on.  Climbing in
through my bedroom window to find a couple having sex in my bed.  One day I
went to Evan's school wearing only shoes and a dress.  A button down number
that went to mid thigh, showing a lot of chest and shoulder.  I went
pretending that I had to bring Evan some books that he had forgotten and
called for, but arrived at lunch when no one noticed.  Well, a lot of
students noticed, and I was whistled at a lot.  I was even goosed a couple
times, but I knew I couldn't respond, otherwise I'd make a scene.

I found Evan where he had told me to meet him, on a flight of wooden stairs
that led down to a creek behind the school.  He had a bunch of buddies with
him, all boys, all his age.

For Evan's attention, for his pleasure I let him command me to take the
dress off in front of everyone, and taking Evan inside me first, I let every
one of the boys have me, giving them what I had given those skaters in Santa
Cruz:  The time of their lives.

They were all geeky young boys, like Evan, and like Evan I was probably the
only chance they had ever had to be with a woman.  And thusly I wrapped my
arms around them, kissed them deeply, and told them how wonderful they were,
just like I had in Santa Cruz.

Only this was my hometown.  I got to see them again, when Evan would have me
come over and I found myself doing three, maybe four kids a night.
Sometimes they would see me around town, and I would let them have me in a
bathroom or the back of my car.

And then they introduced me to their friends.



No.

I never went to Evan's school.  That was just the story I told the counselor
at the hospital after I'd tried to kill myself.  Evan tried to force himself
on me one night and that was the last I had ever seen of him.  I wouldn't
give into him, but he refused to see me after that, unless I'd put out.  I
missed him so much that I ate a bunch of pills rather than have to deal with
the pain or having to let a man use me again.

I tried to kill myself over a thirteen-year-old boy.  Pathetic hardly begins
to describe it.

Six months after that painful day I finally got some help.  Arnold was
really supportive, though I still won't sleep with him.  He's grown up into
quite a striking young man and gotten wholeheartedly into the gothic scene.
Though I still can't call him my boyfriend we've been around each other all
this time, and he's the only man I will let near me.  When I told him the
whole story he almost had a breakdown, knowing that he had been a part of
the worst day of my life.  But he came back after a few weeks, and though we
are still lovers (though we never have sex) he and I are more like brother
and sister.

I never saw Mickey again.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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