             The Slut I Am, A Letter To My Therapist
                       (After Our Session)
                 Goose's imagination gets wilder

Dr. Watkins,
We covered so much in our last session that I don't even know
where to begin.
I know that you are right about many things.  My Uncle Jack was
not my fault.  His raping me falls all on him.  It is true as
well, that my father sending me to live with Charlotte was not my
choice either.  The abortion or becoming a prostitute... all the
men... everything was, I guess, beyond my control.  You are
right.  I became a puppet, my strings controlled by those around
me.
Still, I am what I am.  I sell my body.  I allow men and
sometimes women to use me for their own pleasures.
I understand when you say I don't have to do this anymore.  With
the money I have, I could go to college.  I could choose any
career.
Hell, I could become a psychiatrist.  What do you think of that
idea?  	
According to you, I could even meet someone and fall in
love and get married.  I could become a housewife.  Wouldn't that
be special?  Ex whore turned homemaker.
Really Doc, you and I both know those things only happen in
Fairytales.  My name is Cindy but I am not Cinderella.  The only
balls I know anything about are those between a man's legs.
After I told you about my first date, you explained to me that
going out to dinner with a man, even if he was a client, without
charging him was a big step.   
Of course, you also pointed out that just because we had dinner did not mean that I had to fuck him.  
Truly, I understand what you are saying.  Still, that is
what I do.  I fuck men.  That is my purpose in life.  That is why
God put me on this earth.  We all have a function in life.  Mine
is to provide sex for rich men.
I know I said that I felt like a prom queen as I dressed for that
date.  That is true.  I was excited.  I also told you that the
sex was different, that for the first time in my life I actually
fucked a man because it was what I wanted at the time.  I even
spent the night with him in his bed and had breakfast with him. 
Those were first too.  I cannot deny either, that the orgasms I
felt that night were unlike any other in my life.  I will admit
all of that felt special at the time.  In reflection however, the
date ended with me fucking him.  The only real difference, I
wasn't paid; I fucked him free.
You explained to me that I have many issues to be resolved. 
There are no quick fixes for me.  I need closure on Uncle Jack
and my parents.  You also reminded me that Aunt Charlotte, even
though I tend to make her into my heroine, used me.  You're
right.  I do rationalize my relationship with Charlotte.  I know
she had my baby aborted.  I know she had my tubes tied without my
previous knowledge.  I also know that she made me a whore at the
age of fifteen.  I know all of those things and I know that what she
did was wrong.  No one has the right to take advantage of a child
the way she did.
Maybe I should hate her as much as I do Jack and my parents.  In
my mind however, there is a difference.  Need I remind you that
it was Charlotte, aside from taking advantage of my youth and
situation, that didn't turn her back on me?  Yes, she prostituted
my body.  She also fed me, clothed me and made sure I received an
education.  More importantly, she may be the only person on this
earth that really loves me.  Remember... Charlotte never took a
dime from me.  Everything I earned, she invested and handed over
to me when she got married.  She even gave me her penthouse.
Now I must tell you what I have done.  
Before I begin however, it is important that I remind you of your oath of doctor to patient confidentiality.
I am no longer the fourteen-year-old child Uncle Jack raped.  She
and I bare no resemblance.  She was a child.  I am a woman. 
Therefore, Jack had no idea who I was when he saw me in his
favorite bar.
He made it easy, coming on to me as soon as he walked in.  First,
I let him buy me a couple of drinks at the bar.  Then we moved to
a table located in a dark corner of the bar.
We had barely sat down when I felt his hand go up my skirt. 
Before I could protest, he was already tugging my panties to one
side and trying to poke a finger into my cunt.
I pulled back, slighting feigning shock.  "Whoa, slow down big
boy."
Undeterred by my rejection, he pulled me to him, kissing me hard
on the lips.  His breath brought back memories of that night so
long ago.  He tasted the same, reeking of cigarettes and whiskey.
Continuing to molest my cunt with his dirty finger, he broke the
kiss.
"Let's not play games," he said.  "We both know the game.  The
only question is how much."
I had not expected that question.  It never occurred to me that
he would offer to pay for my services.  I just assumed he would
try to seduce me.
I had to think fast.  I couldn't tell him that I usually get
fifteen hundred dollars an hour.  I had to think like a street
hooker.  "Fifty bucks for a blowjob.  A hundred if you want to
fuck me."
He was appalled.  "Who are you trying to kid?  I'll give you
fifty for the night.  And we`ll go back to my place.  I don't
know where you're from but around here that's the best offer
you'll get."
I fell into the role of hooker more easily than I would have
thought.  "Seventy five," I said.
He smiled.  "Sixty and I won't fuck you in the ass."
"Money up front," I said.
"You'll get your money when we get back to my place."
Jack lived in a tiny one-bedroom motel apartment within walking
distance from the bar.  The place was a dump inside and out.
He was all over me as soon as the door closed behind us, pulling
at my clothes while at the same time brutalizing my tits with a
big powerful hand.  I had forgotten how strong he was.
"What about my money?"  I asked.
He didn't answer.  Instead, he ripped the front of my blouse
open, exposing my braless tits.
"I love little bitty tits," he moaned as he bit down hard on one of my
nipples.
I struggled to push him away.  "I said give me my money."
"Your money?  Bitch, the only thing I'm giving you is a hard
dick."
The next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on the bed, Jack
sitting straddle me.  It was happening again, just like the first
time.  He was tearing at my clothes, a stupid self-indulgent
smile on his face.
Again, I was no match for him.  He was too strong, easily holding
me down with one hand while undressing us both with the other.
My mind raced.  It was just like before.  He was sitting on top
of me, both of us naked.  His hard cock pointed toward the
ceiling.  He was going to rape me again and I couldn't stop him.
The only thing I could do was try to appease him until I could
get the upper hand.
"Okay," I said.  "You can do anything you want.  Please though,
let me get a condom out of my purse."
"A condom!  Fuck, I don't use rubbers."
"Please," I begged.
"Fuck you," he said as he put a strangle hold on my neck.  "Now
spread those fucking legs."
I did as he said and could feel the head of his cock poking
against my cunt.  He was using his free hand to try and guide it into
my hole.  Over and over, he pushed to no avail.  My pussy was dry
and closed up like a clam.
"Fuck," I heard him say in anger.
I thought he was cursing his inability to get it in.  But when I
looked down, I saw that he was Cumming.  The continual probing
must have set him off.  His white sticky semen was shooting out
in long streams, landing on my cunt and lower belly.
His anger and frustration did not stop him from milking his cock however.
 Between loud groans, with his eyes rolled back into his head, he
continued stroking and pulling on his dick.  Finally, his ejaculation
decreased to nothing more than a few drops dribbling from the tip
of his cock.
I reacted to the loosing of his grip around my throat
immediately. 
Rolling sideways, I reached for the steel lamp
beside the bed.  With every ounce of strength I could muster, I
slammed it against the side of his head.
Jack fell to one side, unconscious, his dick still in his hand.
This was not the way I had planned for things to work out.  The
result however would be the same.  That, I told myself, was all
that mattered.
Standing over him...  I was still naked, my pulse racing, his cum
still fresh on my lower belly.  I searched for my purse.  
Finally finding it, I reached inside and pulled out the straight
razor I bought for the occasion.
Suddenly, I was calm.  I knew what I was going to do.  My plan
was back on track.
It was difficult but I managed to arrange Jack on his back,
spread eagle on the bed.  Using pieces of the sheets, I tied his
hands and feet to the bed.  I stuffed his mouth with one of his
socks.  
Then I waited.
When he came to, he seemed unaware of what had happened.  His
first move was to try to free his hands and feet.
He looked up at me and saw the razor.  The fear showed in his
eyes.  A muffled scream escaped from around the sock, as he
fought against his restraints.
 Calmly leaning over him, holding his balls in one hand and the razor in the
other, I started.  Stretching his sack, it took only one swipe of
the razor.  
I stood up right, holding his balls in my hand.  His
attempts to scream and the look on his face were precious, even
more than I had hoped for.
Smiling, I lay his detached testicles on his stomach.
I might add here that there was a lot less blood than I expected.
 Evidently, I had not cut any arteries.  That was good though. 
It made it much easier to see what I was doing as I sliced
through his cock.  
I'd seen enough dicks to know that there was a
large vein on top.  So starting on the bottom side, I cut through
carefully avoiding the vein until last.  When I finally cut
through blood started spurting everywhere.  I laid his detatched cock beside his balls.  God what a mess.
Jack continued trying to scream, as his heart continued to pump
life-sustaining blood from his body.
By the time I washed up and dressed, the stream of blood had
slowed drastically.
By now, he was lying in a pool of blood, barely conscious.
Certain that he would eventually bleed to death, I moved close
enough to look down, staring him straight in the eyes.
"Do you still like to fuck little girls?"
I thought I saw a hint of recognition as he stared back at me.
 I wanted to be sure however, that he knew exactly who had done
this to him.  "Have you fucked any more of your nieces?  Taken
anymore little girls cherries?"
To make sure he couldn't call for help.  I disconnected the
telephone.
I was just about to walk out the door when I stopped, turned and
lifted my skirt.  Pulling my panties to one side, I said.  "This
is what you are dying for, was it worth it?"
That Doc is real closure.

