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Me and My Uncle Ch. 01

By: jack_straw



I guess you could say that I'm a survivor.

Looking back on it, it's a wonder that I did survive, considering what I went through for the first 22 years of my life.

I have survived losing my father before I was 2-years-old. I've survived being dragged all over the country by my alcoholic, drug-addicted prostitute mother. I survived being sexually molested by my stepfather, beginning not long after I turned 10 and continuing for over a year, and I survived the aftereffects when my mother found out and shot him to death over it. I survived nearly three years in a state juvenile school for girls, where I was used sexually by the older girls nearly the whole time I was there.

And I survived eight years with my Uncle Bill, my mother's older brother who repeatedly exposed himself to me and made me watch him masturbate until I turned 18, at which time he turned me into his little sex slave, a role I filled until I ran away from him when I was 22.

Yes, I was my uncle's whore, and the only good thing that came out of it was that we used the money that was made from selling my body to pay for my college education, which, in turn, gave me the means to pull myself out of the cesspool that was my upbringing.

I survived because I'm tough mentally and physically, in that I was able to accept some awful treatment. I survived because I also have a high intellegence, although some of the choices I've made weren't very smart. But I was smart enough to stay alive, to stay largely free of drink and drugs, and to stay relatively sane. And I was smart enough to carefully plan my escape, and cover my tracks so my uncle could never find me.

The thing is, though, I don't look tough, and that was always my problem. Even today, as I approach age 35, I stand slightly over five feet tall, and I've never weighed more than 105 pounds soaking wet. I've always had this vulnerable image, along with a pretty, innocent look - haunting brown eyes and dark, girlish hair - that always seemed to attract the wrong men like flies.

Of course, to look at me now, you would never guess that I went through any of that. Today, I am happily married to a man I love and who loves me, and we have two little girls. I am a successful computer software designer for a major company in a large Southern city, and Ron is an attorney. We live in a nice suburban home, we're members of the local country club and we're active in the community.

I survived and I escaped my background, but it was a close thing, and I still have nightmares about being dragged back into that sordid life. Fortunately, Ron is my rock of support, and his love has helped heal a lot of the wounds I suffered during that time. I told him some of what I did before we were married, and he kept me anyway, although it might have been different if I'd given him the gory details.

Trust me, a lot of the details are pretty gory.

So why am I telling you all of this? Well, for one thing, I feel the need to unburden myself, but there is a lot more to it than that.

Like I said, I still have nightmares about that life. But it's not only nightmares, it's dreams I'm having, many of them hot, lurid scenes that leave me sweaty and shaking with fear and lust. It's as if my inner psyche is trying to lure me back into the life of a whore and a slut by replaying images of the things I used to do.

You see, for all the hell that I went through, for all that I was used and abused by people who were supposed to guide me into adulthood, the fact is that I willingly let a lot of it happen. Part of the reason was that I was so lonely and starved for affection, and I had such low self-esteem, that I craved the attention I got from selling my body, giving it away to people who used me, many of them for some truly perverted acts.

But more than that - much, much more than that - was the feeling I got when I was engaged in those acts. To be blunt about it, the biggest reason why I submitted to years of sexual servitude to my uncle and all of the others, and stayed with him for so long, was because the things they did to me routinely sent me to and kept me at such incredible heights of orgasmic ecstasy that they made the bad times bearable.

Every night that I worked for my uncle, I would think, "tonight's the night they're going to take me to that place," of sexual nirvana where nothing else matters except pure sensate pleasure. And many times they would.

The amazing - and shameful - part about it is that I actually miss that aspect of my old life. In the 13 years since I ran away from my Uncle Bill, I have never - not once - come close to achieving the kind of high level of sexual pleasure I did when I was his whore.

Oh, sex with Ron is nice and loving, and I do enjoy it. I love my husband with all my heart and soul, and we have an active sex life.

But it's not the same. It is almost impossible for me to achieve an orgasm unless we both work long and hard at it. Even then, when I finally do get to the point of climax, they pale in comparison to what I got almost all the time with my uncle, his friends and the men he sold me to.

God help me, I live in desperate, daily fear that the wrong man is going to come into my life, a man who will push all the right buttons, and before I know it, I'll be right back where I was 13 years ago. Only this time, it won't just be my life that is in danger, but the lives of my husband and my daughters.

And I have come too far and worked too hard to allow that to happen.

So, let me start at the beginning, because that really is where everything started.

First of all, there is the issue of my name. I answer today to Lyn Foster, Foster being Ron's name. My name before I married was Lyn Gibson, Gibson being my father's name. But when I was growing up - and when I was whoring for Uncle Bill - I was known as Sophie Trotter, Trotter being his and Mom's family name.

I was born in April, 1970 at the Infirmary on the base at Ft. Leonard Wood, in Missouri, not far from where Mom and Bill grew up. Mom was 17, but she was already well on her way to becoming an alcoholic and an addict. My father was 19, and a soldier from somewhere in California, and from what I've been told, he was a pretty straight guy.

I really think Mom loved my dad, as much as it was in her capacity to love anyone other than herself. And Dad must have cared for her, because he married her when they learned Mom was pregnant. Maybe it was love, but more likely they married so that I wouldn't be born illegitimate, and to allow Mom to avail herself of the medical facilities at the fort.

Whatever the reason, that's how I came to be born Sophia Lynette Gibson, which is the name on my birth certificate. It was a small distinction that would have enormous impact on my life.

Remarkably, her pregnancy with me was the only time in her life after the age of 14 when Mom didn't do hard drugs and drink to excess. She still smoked a little pot and drank some, but not like she did before and after her pregnancy. Lucky me, because I wasn't born with fetal alcohol syndrome or with a cocaine habit. I hate to think how fucked up my life would have been if I had been.

I always liked to think my life would have been completely different had Dad lived, that he and Mom would have stayed together and I would have grown up as a normal girl. In reality, things probably wouldn't have played out much differently, but it made for a nice alternative life to the one I did live through.

The fact is, however, that when I was about nine months old, right after New Year's, my father was shipped off to Vietnam, and he came home six months later in a body bag.

Without her soldier husband to ground her, Mom was lost, and we spent the next eight years moving about the country. We never stayed in the same house or apartment more than a few months, because Mom was following this guy or that guy, or she was skipping out on bail from a bust for drunk driving or prostitution, or she was welching on the rent.

Mom was quite embittered about the circumstances surrounding my dad's death, and she irrationally blamed him, thinking, I guess, that he should have found some way to avoid going to 'Nam. That's why she dropped the Gibson name and reverted back to Trotter, and I came to be called Sophie instead of Sophia for reasons I have never quite understood.

In spite of our wandering, I started school when I was supposed to, and I proved to be a smart kid and a quick learner who could retain what I learned. But I hardly ever made friends, and even then, the more aggressive boys seemed to sense my vulnerability. They treated me like their toy and played head games with me, some of them vaguely sexual.

When I was nine, and in fourth grade, it appeared that our luck had changed. Mom actually met a man who she thought was worth staying with, a somewhat older man named Schultz, but everyone called him Schultzie. He owned a used-car dealership in a small town in rural Oklahoma, he was glib and he treated me nice, which was a change of pace for my mother's boyfriends, all of whom had barely tolerated my presence.

Schultzie was divorced, he said, because his wife left him for another man and took his daughters with her. After what he did to me, I highly doubt that's what happened.

At any rate, he and Mom got married, and we moved into his house. It was really pretty nondescript, but compared to where we'd lived before, it seemed like Windsor Palace. When Mom first met Schultzie, she was working in a bar, but she soon took another job working nights as a desk clerk for a motel.

Actually, she was using that job as a front so she could turn tricks. She claimed he was the one who put her up to it, but there was never any proof of that.

What it meant for me, however, was that I was home alone virtually every night with Schultzie. He was a fairly big man who drank quite a bit, not like Mom, but he did drink pretty regularly. But he wasn't mean, far from it. Like I said, he treated me nice. Too nice. I had just turned 10 when he began to come into my room before I went to bed, and that's where it started.

Some girls who go through an ordeal like what I went through block it out of their memory, but I never did. To this day, I remember everything. Hell, I want to remember everything, so it stays fresh in my mind and I can keep something like that from ever happening to my little girls.

He began with flattery, telling me how cute I was, and all that. I was just starting to feel my body beginning to change, and for a girl who had never been told that she had any worth, it was music to my ears.

I can't go into any details about what he did, but I do need to outline the progression, because it was a pattern that repeated itself much later.

Once he got my confidence, he started touching me, in innocent places at first, but he soon progressed to touching me more intimately. I told him it felt funny, but I never told him to quit. That's important to remember. I never did tell him to quit, because, frankly, what he did and the way he did it made me feel good.

Let's be brutally frank about this, though. Schultzie raped me. Oh, he didn't exactly force himself on me; it was more like he talked me into it, and I eventually gave in. But it was still a rape. I was scared and it hurt like hell, but he was oh, so soothing, and talked me through it like it was the most normal thing in the world. God, I still retch at the memory, especially at the realization that even then I didn't tell him no.

Still, that was when I began to think that something was wrong. More and more, it was making me very uncomfortable. But I never stopped him. I didn't like what he was doing to me, but I didn't want to lose his affection. Like I said, he was the first man who had ever shown me much kindness, and I didn't want to risk losing him.

The whole time - and this went on for about a year - he made me promise not to tell my mother, that it was our little secret. And truly, I was scared to tell her, because I had learned the hard way that my mother had a vicious temper when she was provoked, as events would prove. So I sure as hell wasn't going to tell her.

But everything came tumbling down the weekend of Independence Day in 1981. That Friday, she got sick while she was working, came home early and walked in on us. I guess she was so sick or so shocked that she couldn't react, so she just turned around and walked out. That was the last time I saw my mother as a free woman.

They said that if she had done what she later did right then, she may have gotten some sympathy from the law. But she walked out and left me with him, and waited to do what she did. She was gone that whole weekend and the following Monday.

Schultzie didn't go to his lot that Saturday, because it was the Fourth of July, and he spent the whole three days pacing the floor like a cat, worrying. As it turned out, he had good reason to worry. The whole time, he didn't lay a finger on me. In fact, he barely spoke to me. Of course, it was too late by then.

Schultzie decided to go on to work that Tuesday. After all, he said, he had a business to run. I stayed home alone, like I always did during summer break. I should have been upset at having been caught, but actually I was relieved, because it meant that I wouldn't have to submit to Schultzie any more, and I figured that I could eventually smooth things over with Mom. I really had no concept of how serious it all was.

I mean, I'd grown up listening to - and sometimes watching - Mom have sex with her many boyfriends, in motel rooms or the one-room apartments we often stayed in. I just figured it was something everyone did, even kids my age. Yeah, I know, for a smart kid, I was pretty dumb in that regard.

It was about 1:30 that afternoon when I heard the doorbell ring, and when I answered the door, there was a police officer and a social worker. They told me to gather up some of my things, that I was to come with them. All they would say was that Mom had done a very bad thing and that I was going to have to move.

I started to cry then, because somehow I knew what had happened. And what had happened was that Mom drove into Texas and spent the weekend getting violently drunk and stoned. Then she went to a pawn shop that was open that Monday, bought a .22 pistol and some ammunition, and practiced out in the country until she felt she was proficient enough to use it.

That Tuesday morning, she drove back into town, to Schultzie's car lot, marched into his office and shot him five times in the face before he had a chance to react. Then she calmly reloaded, stood over his body, which had fallen to the floor, and put five shots between his legs. She sat down then and cried insanely, and put up no resistance when the police came and took her to jail.

The first few days, I stayed with the social worker until they could figure out what to do with me. At that time, Uncle Bill was in the Air Force overseas and couldn't take me in, and both of my grandparents had passed away several years earlier. I don't think my father's family even knew I existed.

Finally, I was sent to the state juvenile school, and I quickly learned some terrifying new tricks. By then, word had spread about what I had done with Schultzie, and it soon became a matter of public record, since that was the defense my mother intended to use. She never did get out of jail, because she couldn't make bail, and no one in the community would help her, because Schultzie had been one of them, and we were the outsiders.

So when I arrived at the state school, I was immediately tagged as the little tramp who had seduced her stepfather and caused his murder. And the second night I was there, two of the older girls pulled me into the shower room, stripped me naked and assaulted me. Everyone in authority looked the other way until I became their little bitch.

I quickly learned that I'd better get good at pleasing them any way I could if I was to survive in that hellhole, and I did. That was actually my first experience as a whore. The girls who "owned" me would sell my services for things like cigarettes, gum, candy, anything that had some value in an institutional setting. I soon began to obtain some pleasure out of what I was doing, and that's how I adapted and survived.

I was technically supposed to be in the foster-care system, and I actually met some prospective foster parents who came to interview me. But I was never placed with a family, I guess, because when they found out who I was, they didn't want me around. How's that for tearing down a vulnerable girl's self-esteem. My mom's case had gotten a fair amount of notoriety, and I don't think anyone in Oklahoma wanted anything to do with either of us.

Mom's trial was a nightmare. She was charged with first degree murder, because she had had a chance to think about what she did, and had planned Schultzie's murder in cold blood. They trotted out all of her old charges from a variety of jurisdictions, found a lot of her customers from the motel who were willing to testify against her, and they even blamed me for somehow luring Schultzie into my clutches. I should have been so talented. I mean, shit, I was 11-years-old, for God's sake.

Still, she did get a little bit of sympathy from the jury, because they convicted her of second-degree murder, not first, and she was sentenced to 25 years in the state penitentiary. I guess maybe they did believe me a little when I testified that it had been Schultzie who had started everything.

My mother's reaction to me was weird. Here she'd gone and killed my abuser, ostensibly to protect me from a predator, but afterward she adamantly refused to see me or have anything to do with me. I couldn't believe it, and I cried brokenhearted tears at how Mom had abandoned me.

In many ways, I hated and feared my mom. But for so long it had just been the two of us against the world, and I thought we had had a bond. Maybe we did, and she felt like I had broken that bond by letting Schultzie have his way with me and not telling her.

Regardless of the reason, it was years before we spoke again, and then it was not long before she died of cancer 10 years ago. She was 42 when she died. Still, she lived long enough to see me more as I am today, and not how I was then, so I have some peace about it.

I had just turned 14, and physically I had matured as much as I was going to, when I got a letter from Uncle Bill. He was getting out of the Air Force, and he wanted to take me in to live with him. He was buying a little country store back in the area in Missouri where he and Mom had grown up, and he was going to need some help in running it.

So that summer, I finally got out of the juvenile school, and I thought my prayers had been answered. In reality, I merely jumped from the frying pan into the fire.

The part of Missouri where Uncle Bill's store was located is kind of a shabby, rundown area of small farms. The place wasn't even really a town, just a scattering of houses and a couple of churches spread along a state highway that led to Jefferson City, about 30 miles away. The county seat, where I went to a consolidated high school, was about 10 miles away from the store.

It was also about 30 miles from Columbia, where the University of Missouri is located, and that's important. I quickly sized up Mizzou as the place where I could go, and maybe escape the life I had led up to that point. And it was, but not before Uncle Bill dragged me through a hell of my own making.

At this point I should describe my Uncle Bill. Like I said earlier, he was my mom's older brother, by seven years. He'd quit school at 16 and joined the Air Force when he turned 18, and had served 20 years. Like Mom, and me he had dusky skin, he was clean-shaven and had looks that were rough, but not ugly by any means. He was of average size and in good shape from his military career.


Me and My Uncle Ch. 01



I quickly figured out that he desperately wanted to fuck me, and deep down I think I wanted him to, but he never touched me until I turned 18. Once I did, however, and he nailed me the first time, he used me for everything I was worth.

Our relationship was weird. He used me, no question, but I also think he had some affection for me initially, since I was his little sister's girl. He freely provided me with the means to get away from him, even while he was trying to keep me as his slave. He could be incredibly cruel to me, and he could be incredibly generous. He was extremely possessive of me, but he eagerly sold me to his friends and anyone else who had the money to pay for my services.

My uncle was a bundle of contradictions in so many ways. He didn't use drugs, and he wasn't a heavy drinker, at least not at first. But he did have one vice. He was obsessed with sex. He could get and did get plenty of women, but he much preferred to masturbate.

As a result, he always had plenty of porn around: books, magazines and tapes, and all kinds of sexual devices. And he didn't bother to hide any of it from me. God, he was such a pervert!

You know, it is a wonder that I could ever have a normal sexual relationship, considering how I was brought up. In fact, as I said earlier, one reason I'm here is because I still do have trouble enjoying normal sex.

Of course, news of my mom's crime and her trial had made it to central Missouri, and when I showed up there, I could hear them whispering about Marie Trotter's daughter, and staring at me like I was some freak. As a result, I found it hard to make friends. People had a preconceived notion of who and what I was, and even after they got to know me, and realized that I wasn't some little monster, they kept their distance.

But I did have a few friends, misfits mostly, and occasionally we'd get together to play records or watch a video, things normal teens did.

Even at high school, however, I couldn't escape my demons. Some of the boys at school, having heard about what had happened to me, assumed that I was easy pickings, and, for awhile, I was. Beginning late in my freshman year and continuing almost until the end of my sophomore year, I led a pretty active high school sex life. The junior and senior boys quickly figured out that if they spent a little money on me, or if they sweet-talked me real nice, that I was easy.

Uncle Bill was reluctant to let me go out on dates, but when he went down to Jeff City or Columbia, as he did some nights to troll for women, I was left alone. The boys would come around and if Uncle Bill was home, they'd just visit for awhile and leave. But if he was gone, they'd come in and I'd let them do whatever they wanted.

As I've said, I battled low self-esteem for much of my life, and I craved affection and attention. Sex was something I had that the boys wanted and that I was good at, and they exploited it ruthlessly.

There was, however, one boy, Johnny Aaron, who I actually developed feelings for, and I think he had a little bit of feeling for me. It wasn't a steady relationship, but he probably came around more than anyone else. He wasn't one of the studs, just a skinny, pimply kid who was kind of in the same situation I was, lonely and in need of affection.

Of course, he was like anybody else. Our relationship was defined by sex, and as long as he was getting laid, he didn't mind coming around to visit the school tramp, and being nice to me.

That phase of my life ended abruptly not long after I turned 16. Uncle Bill had gone down to Jeff City, so Johnny came around, and we were hot into it when he walked in and caught us on the sofa.

I'll give him credit; Uncle Bill didn't lose his temper. But the low, even tone in his voice and the look in his eyes told Johnny he'd better grab his clothes and go without bothering to get dressed.

"Son," he called out, just before Johnny bolted through the door. "You spread the word around school, that my niece is off-limits. If I catch another one of you delinquents with her again, you will pay dearly. NOW GIT!"

That was when I made the deal with the devil that bound me to my uncle. Uncle Bill just stared at me, his eyes all but raping me with his lustful look. That's when I realized that he wasn't protecting my virtue so much as he was protecting his possession, his investment. Finally, he let me throw on a nightgown, then he called me back to sit across from him at the table that sat at one end of our fairly large den.

"Sophie," he began. "Do you want to end up like your mother, knocked up by 17 with no future and no prospects? Is that really what you want? My God, girl, you've got brains and talent neither one of us ever had, but you shouldn't waste them on these punks. You can do so much better. You have the ability to get out of this place, and I can help you."

"How, Uncle Bill?" I said in a small voice.

"I'm going to make you an offer, a generous offer, but it comes with strict conditions," he said.

"Conditions?" I asked.

"If you will keep up your grades, I'll help you get into MU," he said. "And I'll help pay for it."

"Would you really?" I said, suddenly ecstatic that my college dreams might actually come true. "But, how? Isn't it awfully expensive?"

"It is, and I don't have the money to do it at the moment, but with your help we'll get the money," he said. "Here's the deal. You agree to abstain from sex, drugs and alcohol until you turn 18, then you go to work for me. You agree to work for me, doing whatever I tell you to do when I tell you to do it, for the four years that you're at the university. Your pay will go directly into a fund to pay for tuition costs, less a little spending money, and I'll match it. When you turn 18, I'll buy you a cheap vehicle, and we'll start making some money. When you obtain your college diploma, not a day before, you'll be free to go wherever you want in search of whatever career you aspire to."

"But what kind of work would I have to do for you?" I said, suddenly very leery.

In the pit of my stomach, I knew what kind of work he was talking about. Bill Trotter wouldn't be that generous unless he had a devious motive in mind, especially since he was making this offer minutes after catching me in the act of having sex with a boy.

"You leave that to me," he said. "For now, I'm going to put you on the store's payroll, and increase your hours drastically. It appears that you have too much free time, if you're running around screwing all the boys at school. You are going to work here at the store and study hard. There is scholarship money available, and we're going to pursue those avenues, but you'll need much more to get through four years of college."

"What if I don't agree to your conditions?" I said timidly.

"Well, you can go on like you have been, get pregnant within a year, drop out of school and live on the street somewhere with your bastard baby," he said. "Sophie, I'm offering you a chance to make something of yourself. All I'm asking in return is your obedience. If you go along with me, I'll take good care of you, the way I promised Marie I would. But you have to agree to obey me without question or hesitation."

I really didn't have any choice. If I eventually wanted out of there - and I did, desperately - I had to play Uncle Bill's game, do whatever he wanted to do with me, as he said, without question or hesitation. There were many nights over the next six years when I wondered if it was all worth it.

Despite my misgivings about Uncle Bill's intentions for me down the road, and the vague sense of dread I felt about what awaited me when I turned 18, I have to say that the next two years were the best and most important years of my upbringing.

I had a two-year respite from everyone around me wanting to use me for their sexual desires, and thus I was able to live something like a normal life. I buckled down in school, and really worked at my studies, with the result that my grades, which had always been decent, improved dramatically.

It was during this period that I developed my drive to excel at my work, and that was when I learned my organizational skills. Both of those factors have been so critical to my success in taking control of my life and making something of myself when everyone around me expected me to fail.

Working at the store nearly full time also helped. Uncle Bill's store was actually quite successful. It was the only convenience store for miles around, so business was usually pretty good. He had two gas pumps that stayed busy, and most anything you would find at a modern convenience store, except we carried a few more grocery items than you might find at the Jiffy Mart.

We carried a full range of beer and wine coolers, which were all the rage at that time, cassette tapes in a wide variety of styles, plenty of tobacco products, and books and magazines. He had a large commercial coffee maker and three sets of booths where the locals would come in, sit down and have coffee in the mornings before going to work.

Of course, it wouldn't have been Uncle Bill's store if he didn't have his "adult" section. This part of the country isn't exactly the Bible Belt, and there was a pretty good market for sleaze in the area. This section was set off from the rest of the store by a black curtain, and one my jobs was to make sure no one underage went back there. And we didn't just have your garden variety skin mags. No sir. We had the real hardcore stuff, including a wide array of videos. After two years of living with Uncle Bill, I really didn't think anything about it.

As a result of its location and what we had to sell, the store was a place where most of the community passed through, and I got to know practically everyone around. Most of them, especially the men, I would eventually regret knowing, but still it was a boon to my social skills. And helping with inventory and keeping the books gave me valuable work experience.

Not long after I made my deal with Uncle Bill, something happened that changed my life, literally.

Since I had just turned 16, I was old enough to get my driver's license. So after school one day, I had a friend take me to the Motor Vehicle Department in Jeff City. When I got there, I learned that I needed a copy of my birth certificate, so we drove to the Bureau of Records to obtain the necessary certified copy and I could get my license.

That's when I first learned that my legal, given name wasn't Trotter, but Gibson. I had never seen a copy of my birth certificate, and every document that had followed me through all of the moves I had made were under my mother's name, and I had simply assumed that Trotter was my given name.

In that moment, I had one of those flashes of inspiration, an epiphany, if you will. This was the first time I showed a bit of clairvoyance, and it wouldn't be the last. I saw in that moment my eventual way out of my Uncle Bill's clutches, when and if the time came that I needed to get away.

Let's face it, I didn't trust Uncle Bill as far as I could throw him. I was skeptical that he would live up to his end of the bargain. I had this fear that he would back out of his agreement to help pay for my college education. I was also afraid that even if he did live up to that part of it and did let me go to college, he would renege on his pledge to let me go when I graduated.

And learning I wasn't who I thought I had been all my life suddenly presented me with an escape hatch. The whole plan literally came to me in one big lump, and I painstakingly put it together piece by piece.

For the moment, I remained Sophie Trotter, but when I got my driver's license, the name on the license was Sophia Lynette Gibson, not Trotter. I quietly applied for a new Social Security number, a different number from the one I had been issued years before, when Mom had applied for some federal assistance plan that required that I have one. And the name I used was simply Lynette Gibson.

Once I had my new Social Security number, that was the name and number I used when I applied to the University of Missouri late in my junior year of high school, and that's what I used when I applied for and took the ACT. Also, midway through my senior year of high school, I quietly changed the name on my school records. It was late enough in the year that I would still be Trotter in the yearbook and in the minds of my classmates, but it would make the name on my high school transcript the same as the one on my college application.

Later, when the registrar at MU asked about the discrepancy between the Social Security number on my high school transcript and the one I'd applied for admission under, I simply told the truth, or at least enough of the truth to answer her question fairly.

At any rate, from that moment on, I had two identities. When I was back at Uncle Bill's doing his bidding, I was Sophie Trotter. When I drove into Columbia to go to class, I was Lynette Gibson, Lyn to my friends. Uncle Bill never figured it out, either. He'd been in the Air Force when Mom married my dad, he'd never met my father and he didn't even know my father's name.

And I was careful to make sure he never saw any mail addressed to Lynette Gibson at the store. Mail for the store came to a post office box in town, so one of my jobs was to get the mail on my way home from school. Soon, I also had my own box at the Columbia post office, and that's where all correspondence from the college was sent.

Still, it wasn't all good. Uncle Bill didn't come right out and say what he was going to do when I turned 18, but from his innuendoes, it was clear that he intended to fuck me, and that he was going to let his friends have me as well.

That was plainly obvious by the leers I began to get as my senior year progressed. Uncle Bill didn't go to the bar nearly as much as he had before, preferring to have his buddies hang out at the store. After closing, they'd sit around having a few beers, and they'd make me sit with them, to fetch refills or stir up some food.

They'd look me up and down like a dog looks at a juicy steak, and occasionally, one of them would "accidentally" brush up against me and run his hands over my behind. But, other than that, they kept their distance until I turned 18. I suppose I had this kernel of hope that what I feared wouldn't happen, but I knew better. And I'm not sure how much I really feared what was going to happen.

Beginning with Schultzie, I had gotten used to having sex on a pretty regular basis, and while he, the girls at Juve and the boys at my high school got their pleasure from me, I had also managed to obtain a fair amount of pleasure from them.

I'll be brutally honest. I liked sex. It made me feel good inside, especially when I was able to reach an orgasm, which wasn't very often. But even if I didn't climax when I was having sex, I could still retreat into my own little world, and block out all of the nasty comments, disgusted looks and the relentless pressure of growing up as poor white trash. 

I also had a pretty lurid imagination, and a lot of my fantasies included the man I was around more than any other, my uncle. I couldn't help it. I spent a lot of nights in bed imagining him giving me pleasure.

But I never, in all of my fantasies, expected him to give me the kind of brain-numbing pleasure he did the first time he fucked me. It was that night that really turned me into a whore, one who was worth every penny that was paid for me. And it was what kept me tied to him for the next four years.

I was more and more nervous as my birthday approached, wondering how it was going to happen. As it turned out, Uncle Bill did it very skillfully and honestly, for a change.

My birthday came and went without any mention of it whatsoever. But the next night, as we sat across the kitchen table eating dinner, he looked across at me, and I felt a chill go through me. His look was filled with such lust and longing that it took my breath away.

"Sophie, my sweet," he began, and I really wondered then what was in store for me, because he'd never used any kind of endearment toward me. "I didn't get a chance to wish you a happy birthday yesterday, so I'm doing so today. Need I remind you that you are now 18, and it is time for you to become a woman, in every respect."

"Uncle Bill, please..." I started. I felt that I needed to put up at least some token objection to what he had planned for me. But he stopped me before I could continue.

"Shhhhhh, little one," he said softly. Now I was intrigued, because I had never seen this side of him, the tender, loving side that he had kept hidden behind his gruff outer shell. "I have something for you."

And he produced a small gift-wrapped box and handed it to me. I opened it and saw that it was velvet box from a jeweler. I opened it up and was stunned to find a 14-karat gold necklace with a small heart pendant. I started to cry, then, because it was the first time anyone had given me a gift like that, and it had come from the man I had least expected it to come from.

"Regardless of what happens, wear it and know that I truly do love you," he said. "You are all the family I have left, and I want you to be mine forever."

I stammered my thanks, then walked over and hugged his neck. If things had stopped right there, I may have never left. It was the sweetest thing he'd ever done for me, and I still have that necklace, although I don't wear it. It is just about the only thing I have left from that time, and I keep it to remind me of both the good times and bad times I had when I was under his guardianship.

But with Uncle Bill everything eventually came back around to sex, and he quickly moved on to the business of seducing me and getting me to do his bidding.

"Sophie," he said, staring across the table at me. "I can't tell you how badly I want you, how hard it has been these four years to desire you so much and not be able to do anything about it. Oh, I could have forced myself on you at the start, but I knew what you had been through, and I didn't want to just take you."

I sat there in silence. There was nothing I could say, because I had known all along about his lust for me, and I had begun to realize that perhaps I'd always wanted him, as well.

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do," he continued. "I want you to give yourself freely and willingly, if that's what you want. We made an agreement two years ago, and I am prepared to honor that agreement, but only if you are prepared to hold up your end."

"What do I have to do?" I said softly. I knew, but I wanted him to spell it out for me, to admit to himself that he wanted me for his whore.

"You must agree to love me, honestly and completely," he said. "You must do what I say when I say it, go with anyone I tell you to go with and do anything - anything - they want to do. You have something a lot of people, not just men, desire. You are young, but wise. You are innocent, but sensual. There is a big market for girls like you, who look innocent, but who are experienced and willing, especially in this area where really pretty girls like you are rare."

"In other words, you want me to be your whore, and screw you and all of your friends for money," I said, and I shivered with a combination of fear and lust as I said it.

Uncle Bill just nodded his head.

"I do, but only if you want to," he said. "You're an adult now, and I can't make you. You have to agree to it. That is the offer. I'll buy you a good, inexpensive car and maintain it so you can live here and drive back and forth to Columbia. I will take what you make working for me and match it dollar-for-dollar with profits from the store to pay for your education. I'm willing to do it because I believe in you, and I think you have the ability to make something of yourself.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 01



"Sophie, I'm not going to lie to you. What I am asking in return isn't going to be easy. You will be doing things you never dreamed you would be doing, some of them quite degrading. I don't want there to be any illusions about what I'm going to want you to do. So I am prepared today to take the offer off the table. If you don't think this is something you can handle, something you are willing to do, then you can say no, right now. But if you do, you will be on your own the day after you graduate from high school in a few weeks. That means you will have to somehow find your own place to live and find a way to pay for it, somehow find the means to pay your tuition and somehow find a way to provide your own transportation to college. I can't afford to continue to support you without some help. If you're not willing to help me, then I can't help you."

He had me stretched across that proverbial barrel, and he knew it, because he sat back in his chair with a smug look on his face. I looked down at the floor as I thought about it. He was giving me a way out, and I probably should have taken it, but I wasn't prepared at that moment to strike out on my own. I had a little bit of money saved up, but not nearly enough to pay for tuition, room and board for even a semester at MU, let alone for some place to live over the summer.

And, too, I was still fearful of being on my own with no one to care for me. I still had that craving for acceptance and affection that hadn't been fully satisfied, and leaving Uncle Bill at that moment would have been disastrous for me. With him, I somehow felt safe, in spite of what he was planning for me.

I calculated the risk-reward ratio for what he was offering, and I couldn't see saying no. True, he was asking me to sacrifice my self-respect, not to mention my body, for lewd, possibly unspeakable desires. But I wanted that college education more than anything else in the world, and I was determined to get it, even if I had to walk through the fires of hell for it. I looked up at him with my eyes brimming with tears.

"If I say yes, will you promise to let me go in four years, after I graduate?" I asked. "And can I count on you to keep me from getting hurt?"

"Sweetheart, I will protect you and keep you from trouble at every step of the way," he said. "And if you give me four years of service, I promise I will let you go. I'll give you your wings and let you fly."

"OK, then, I'll do it," I said. "But if you don't hold up your end of the deal, I will never forgive you and I will hate you until the day I die."

I think he tried in some respects, but it was impossible for him to keep all of his promises. But I wouldn't find that out until much later.

"Good girl," he said. "It's getting late tonight, and we have a lot to do before Saturday. But then we can take our time, so I can start teaching you about sex. I'm sure you think you know a lot about it, and you do, up to a point. But there is so much more you need to learn to become someone who is worth what people are willing to pay good money for. You're going to be the best, and by the time Monday comes, you will know everything you need to know to be the best."

I felt a shudder run through my body then, and it wasn't just fear. Having made my decision, having set my course, I was eager to learn whatever my perverted uncle was willing to teach me. And that turned out to be a lot. It had been two years since I'd had a sexual encounter of any sort other than masturbation, and I was ready to fuck.

But first, there was the matter of birth control. Bill sent me into Jeff City to a gynecologist for a full exam and to get a prescription for contraceptives. That would always be his Rule No. 1. I was to take no chances with a possible pregnancy. I got started later that week and stayed on them religiously for the next four years.

I usually had Saturday off. It was my one day to go to town and visit what friends I had, and I did have a few, or maybe go shopping. At the time, my hair had grown quite long, but Bill told me to it would be best if I got it cut short. He had a young-girlish image of me he wanted to project, and he felt that long hair made me look a little older. I didn't cut it short short, but I did get it cut back off my shoulders.

I got back to the store about 3:30, as I usually did on Saturday, in case I was needed to run things while Bill ran errands. But he told me to go on upstairs, that he would close and that I was to take a long bath, pamper myself was how he put it, and that he had something for me when I was finished.

I soaked a long time in a bubble bath, then padded to my little room, where I saw a flat box on the bed. I opened it, and gasped slightly. It was a negligee of a transparent purple color, with matching panties that amounted to next to nothing. There was a note in the bottom from Uncle Bill. It told me to wear this, "so you will feel like a woman."

The note also said that if there was any pubic hair showing after I put on the panties, to get rid of it. He didn't want me to shave completely, but he wanted my bush trimmed. My pubic hair is fairly thin anyway, so it didn't take much to conform to his wishes. He also wanted me well made up, so I took my time fixing my face and painting my nails. I rarely wore make-up, so this was a real experience.

When I was finished, it was a revelation, the first time in my life that I really thought of myself as pretty. I know all of the guys who'd sniffed around me all my life had told me that, but I had never believed it. But looking in the mirror that night, I realized that I was indeed very nice-looking. It was a real ego boost, and more was in store.

When Uncle Bill walked through the door, I was framed in the doorway of the bathroom, striking a sexy pose. He whistled invitingly, came over to me, gathered me in his arms and we kissed. And I mean we kissed. This was nothing like how I had been kissed before. Bill's lips were like a feather as he kissed me softly. Soon our tongues were swirling around each other, as passion began to build. I could feel myself getting wet between my legs as I felt his well-built body press against mine. I could especially feel the bulge of his cock through his jeans as our arousal began to climb.

We broke then, and Bill stepped back to take off his clothes. His hard cock bobbed in front of him as he removed his pants. His body was nothing I hadn't seen plenty of over the years, but somehow it was different this time. This time, he was going to fuck me, and we had both been secretly anticipating this moment for almost four years.

I figured it was going to be like every other sexual encounter I'd ever had. We'd to go in his bedroom, get on the bed, he was going to put his cock in me, hump me for about five minutes, cum in me, and that would be it. Man, was I ever in for a surprise.


To begin with, we didn't go in the bedroom at all. We just stood there in front of the bathroom door as he ran his tongue down my neck to my gauze-covered tits. He squeezed my small breasts, licked them, sucked them and generally took a lot of time with my tits. I could feel the sensations sizzling from my nipples to my cunt, and I was gasping and breathing heavily.

Just then, I felt his fingers slide between my legs, just sawing over my mound, without actually touching me. Suddenly, he slipped his fingers in the gusset of my panties and I gasped loudly as he delved into my wet flesh. He plunged two fingers in my hole and fucked me for about five seconds, then slid his fingers around and found my swelling clit.

"Ahh! Ahh!" I cried out as he rolled my little bud around with his fingers, then he resumed finger-fucking me. I reached down and grasped his cock in my little hand, and I trembled as I felt his hot, hard meat. It throbbed in my hand as I lightly jacked him, the way I'd seen him do to himself so many times before. We worked our hands at each other, as we kissed again, hungrily.

Then he abruptly pulled his hand away, held me at my sides and kissed his way down my stomach, down my abdomen, until his head was perched between my legs. He picked up my left leg, draped it over his shoulder, pulled the crotch of my panties to the side and pressed his mouth to my pussy.

I threw my head back and cried in lust as he licked his way up my wet slot, up to my clit, then back down and all around my gushing gash. His hands caressed my buttocks as he ate my pussy with the relish of a man who obviously knew what he was doing and enjoyed doing it.

This, too, was a revelation. I had thought the art of eating pussy was confined to women, based on my experience at the girls' school. Those girls had been experts at it, and they had loved doing it. The boys I had encountered since moving to Missouri, on the other hand, had shied away from it, claiming it was gross.

I humped Uncle Bill's face with my hips, trying to get all of my boiling crotch on his active mouth. I could feel a queasy feeling building in my guts as I approached a really intense climax. I had been able to give myself orgasms with my hands over the years, but they had always been rather mild. Not this one, however. This felt like the spread of hot lava all through my insides, and I began to moan loudly as the feeling swelled.

Suddenly, everything seemed to fade into the background as I felt a white-hot rush through my body. I shuddered and twitched, squealed and groaned as I orgasmed all over my uncle's face. I hardly remember exactly how it happened, but the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on my uncle's bed, with my legs in the air and Uncle Bill was peeling my soaked panties off.

Then he dropped my legs, and I spread them wide. I was ready. I looked up at my uncle with a pleading look, reached down and spread open my dripping lips.

"Fuck me, Uncle Bill," I said softly. "Please, fuck me and make me a woman. I want you."

He just grinned lewdly, as he knee-walked his way between my legs, rubbed the head of his cock between my lips several times, then pushed his way in slowly. God, it seemed like it took forever for him to get all of his impressive cock up my tiny twat. But that was good. All of the others had always just rammed their way in, hurting me in the process and taking me completely out of the mood, at least until the pain subsided.

But Bill took his sweet time, making sure my pussy was accepting his length and his girth, rather than just taking me. As a result, he could easily get all of his cock in without hurting me, and when he did fill me all the way, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before.

Quite simply, I went berserk. It felt so good, and I was so horny, that my arousal just exploded all over the place. I worked my body around my uncle's in a way I'd never done before with the boys. I brought him to me and kissed him frantically, like a true bitch in heat. The negligee stuck to my sweat-covered body as I blasted through a powerful orgasm and straight into another. This was that high level of sexual nirvana I talked about earlier. It was like the door to another wonderful world of sensation had opened up to me, and I was eager to walk through it.

Uncle Bill grinned down at me as he pistoned his cock back and forth in me at an even pace. Even then, even as he finally had the object of his long-held lust wrapped around his throbbing dick, he was taking his time, holding back, taking it deliberately, and making sure that he absolutely drove me crazy with lust.

In fact, I was out of my mind with passion, as I wrapped my legs around Bill's waist and fucked him, more than he fucked me. I took every bit of his cock, and was crying out for more. And finally his cool began to crack. He picked up my legs by the ankles, bent them back and began to drive his cock harder and faster in my molten cunt. I just lay there and let him have the run of me; I was so gone with lust, that was all I could do.

Just when I thought I couldn't take any more orgasmic sensation, I hit a new peak, as my body was wracked with huge shudders and I felt almost faint. That's when I felt him swell to an impossible size and I felt his cock explode deep inside me. It seemed like he couldn't stop cumming, as hot jets of creamy cum filled me to overflowing. We gasped together in our mutual release, relieved that we had finally consummated the lust that had been building between us almost from the first day I had arrived.

I must have passed out for a moment, because when I became aware again, Uncle Bill was lying next to me, his chest heaving, and I could feel his thick, hot cum pouring out of my empty, gaping hole. We both laughed then, and I still get a slight thrill out of the memory, my bitter feelings toward my uncle notwithstanding. It was the first truly great sex of my life, and it set the stage for everything that would happen over the next four years.

An hour later, after we had gotten a bite to eat, we were at it again, with me on top. Bill skillfully worked me up and down on his rock-hard cock, and I shook and trembled through at least a half-dozen orgasms before he finally shot another hot load of cum up my cunt.

Much later, sometime in the night, his cock found its way into my pussy from behind, in a spoon position, and he ended up getting me on my knees and fucking me again doggy-style. He was right. I thought I'd known what sex was all about, but that night, he showed me how little I really did know.

After that first night, I was in a state of bliss. Unfortunately, the next day was the day in which I began to get acquainted with my new job. 




Me and My Uncle Ch. 02



I was a little disoriented when I woke up that Sunday morning after my first night as Uncle Bill's lover.

I was in a strange bed and it was already past noon. I got up groggily, put on a robe and had coffee. I was on my second cup of coffee and eating a slice of toast when Uncle Bill entered the apartment.

"You need to hurry and get cleaned up," he said. "Don't bother putting on make-up or getting dressed. Pete and Calvin are coming over in a few minutes and you're going to take care of them. Just think, your first customers."

He said it with such a leer that I shuddered in spite of myself. I also shuddered at the thought of Pete and Calvin. They were two local farmers who had spent a lot of time at the store drinking beer with Uncle Bill, and had tried to feel me up quite a bit.

Pete was a swarthy, dark-haired, Slavic-looking guy with a bushy moustache who always seemed to need a shave. Calvin had blondish-looking hair, broad features and a big gap between his front teeth. They were both pretty well built from farm work, but quite frankly, I wasn't happy about having to service them.

But I showered dutifully, climbed out of the tub, dried off, walked out of the tiny bathroom and almost had a heart attack. Calvin and Pete were already sitting on the sofa watching a porn video. They gave me a leering look as I walked out of the bathroom naked, and instinctively I tried to cover my body with my towel.

"Oh, there's no need for that, Sophie," Pete said as they both stood up and walked toward me. "We've waited a long time to see your fine little body."

He reached over and pulled the towel from my body and dropped it to the floor. I couldn't help it; I stood there shivering with a little bit of fear.

"Don't be afraid, now, Sophie," Calvin said. "We ain't gonna hurt you, are we, Pete?"

"Nah," Pete said, as he rubbed the bulge in his overalls. "I think it's time we got naked and introduced our cocks to Sophie's hot little mouth."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "Wait! I thought..."

"Bill said he wore your pussy out pretty good last night," Calvin said. "Said your cunt had to get into shape before it would be ready to take on our cocks."

"So we said, no problem," Pete said. "We'll just get us a nice, sloppy blow job and come back some other time to test out that twat."

"But, but, I..." I stammered. I wasn't ready for this. It's funny how the mind works. I had never had any emotional problems about engaging in intercourse, despite what Schultzie had done to me. It was just sex.

But for some reason, I associated oral sex with something dirty, something nasty. It went back to once when Schultzie was molesting me, he tried to get me to blow him, and I had gotten hysterical at the thought.

The idea that I would put my mouth on a man's penis, the means by which he urinated, just filled me with an intense and irrational loathing. That had probably been my mind's way of rejecting what Schultzie was doing to me. I could say no to that without saying no to all the other stuff he was doing that made me feel good.

Whatever the reason, I was terrified of taking a man's cock in my mouth, and had always adamantly refused to do it when my high school boyfriends had asked for a blowjob.

"Aw, there ain't nothing to be afraid of," Calvin drawled. "I mean, we even cleaned up good before we came over."

For some reason, they both thought that was hilarious. By this time, they were both naked, with their hard cocks standing up straight in front of them, and they had me bracketed.

"We've already paid our money, Sophie," Pete said, with just a trace of menace in his voice. "So you'd best get to it."

I was still fearful, irrationally so, but they both kind of growled and pushed me down by my shoulders until I was on my knees, their hard cocks waving in my face. The one on my left, Calvin, grabbed the back of my head and pulled me toward his cock.

He pressed the purple knob to my lips, and I tried to clamp my mouth shut and resist. But when I opened my mouth to cry out, he pushed his way in before I could stop him.

Calvin's cock had a spongy texture to it, and the taste was a little funky, but honestly, it was not as bad as I had expected. Still, he forced his cock into my mouth and began to work me back and forth on his stiff rod, pushing a little bit more in with each stroke.

"See, it's not so bad," Calvin said with a chuckle. "Go on, take it deeper, whore."

I was having trouble breathing, and panic started to rise in me, when Pete took my head out of Calvin's hands, pulled me off his friend's cock and replaced it with his. Pete's cock was a little bit slimmer than Calvin's was, so it didn't bother my breathing as much. Nevertheless, my eyes were watering and I winced in discomfort every time Pete jabbed the head of his spear into my throat.

Then Calvin turned my head toward him and rammed his way in my mouth. They both had a hand on my head as Calvin worked his cock rhythmically in my mouth.

I was making humming noises as I still felt some disquiet over what they were doing to me. But the taste wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected it to be, and once I got over the initial shock of being manipulated into this, and got past my fears, I began to relax a little bit.

Then it was Pete's turn again, and his hand deftly moved me back and forth on his burning hot rod. Slowly I started to pick up the rhythm, and began working my mouth on Pete's cock on my own. Before I knew it, they had taken their hands away from my head.


"Oh yeah," Pete exclaimed. "Look at that. No need to force her now. I knew she just needed some coaxing."

"I see what you mean," Calvin said. "I've let her go and she's still sucking your cock."

Indeed, I was. I guess once I figured out that taking a man's cock in my mouth wasn't as bad as I had always made it out to be, I just accepted it as part of the job. I mean, I had agreed to do this, and they had paid their money. How much? I didn't know at that point, and it really didn't matter. They'd paid for me, and I was expected to perform.

As if to emphasize my acceptance of what they were doing to me, I pulled my mouth off Pete's cock, reached up with one hand and guided Calvin's cock to my mouth, without any guidance. I put a little more effort into my work this time, rolling my tongue around the shaft as he pumped his cock past my lips.

Calvin was starting to groan a bit as I sucked him, so I returned my attention to Pete. I took him in my left hand and worked my lips and tongue up and down the shaft, before sliding his length back into my mouth. I could feel a thick stream of drool dribble down my chin onto my chest, but I was too preoccupied with what I was doing to worry about that.

Then Calvin pulled my head around and stuck his cock back my mouth. Incredibly, I could feel a tingling between my legs, and I realized that this was turning me on. This lewd act that I'd always been afraid of was making me horny.

Even as the thought passed through my mind, I felt a stab of lust spark from my pussy to my brain, I really began to work Calvin's cock, and I tentatively slid a hand between my legs to feel my moistening cunt.

Quickly, Pete pulled me to him and I sank well over half of his dick past my lips. I still couldn't get past my gag reflex, but I was humming just the same. And Pete was urging me on, like it was a race or something.

"Oh yeah, baby," he panted. "Suck that cock and drink that cum. OH SHIT! Here it comes!"

I was so startled by the sudden quickening of his cock in my mouth that I didn't have time to react. Pete's cock swelled in my mouth, I felt hot jets of fluid hit the back of my throat, and I realized he was cumming in my mouth.

My gut reaction was disgust, and I gave a kind of choking, coughing sound as his cum quickly filled my mouth. I started to pull my mouth away, but Pete grabbed the back of my head again and wouldn't let me go. Even so, a thick stream of pearly white semen flowed from the corners of my mouth as his cock fired off more cum faster than I could swallow.

And, truthfully, once I got over the initial shock of his sudden orgasm and my disgust over being forced into swallowing his semen, I discovered that it didn't taste as bad as I had expected. It had kind of a salty tang to it, but other than that, it was kind of bland.

At the time, I didn't figure that I'd ever really come to like it. But later, as I descended into a period of wanton depravity, I would come to love it.

Pete kept my mouth on his cock until he had shot every drop he had. He pulled his wilting member out of my mouth and I took two heaving breaths of air into my lungs. I glanced over at Calvin, and he had a glazed look in his eyes and his hand was working feverishly on his cock.

"Come here, whore!" he cried, and I obeyed. I turned my head toward him and opened my mouth to take him in, but he just said, "open wide," aimed the head of his cock for my mouth and exploded with a half-dozen hot, hard shots of cum right into my mouth.

He was still spurting cum as pushed his cock past my lips and told me to swallow every drop. I tried my best to milk him of his cum with my lips, just the way he wanted.

"Ahhh yeah!" Calvin exclaimed in a tone that spoke of relief. "Good cum whore. Swallow it all, just like a good little slut. Be ready, Sophie, because next time, I'm gonna fuck that hot little pussy of yours."

"Amen to that," Pete replied as they both began to get dressed. I wanted them to hurry up and leave, so I could get in my bed to finger myself to an orgasm. I was a little disgusted with myself that my acceptance of performing oral sex on two men for money had turned me on, but there was no denying it.

And that's just what I did. At that point, however, it still hadn't sunk in that I was going to be a prostitute. It still wasn't quite real to me, and I pushed that thought aside as I lay on my bed and worked both hands at my cunt. It didn't take me long to reach a fairly good climax. Nothing extraordinary, but it served the purpose.

A little while later, after another shower, and after I had dressed, I was fixing dinner when Uncle Bill came in the door, and he wasn't happy.

"Pete and Calvin said they had to force you into sucking their cocks," he said. "Is that true?"

"Uncle Bill, I just thought they were going to want sex," I said. "I just never thought about taking them in my mouth. I'm sorry. I don't know why, but that's always scared me, because of... because of what Schultzie did to me. Once I got into it, I did OK."

"I thought we had agreed that you'd do whatever anyone wanted without question or hesitation," he growled.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Bill," I said. "It won't happen again."

"Well, anyway, we're going tomorrow and get you some practice sucking cocks," he said roughly. "By Tuesday, you'll be the best cocksucker in the county."

"How?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"You'll see," Bill said. "But tonight, Ol' Bill's got a surprise for you. You want to be a real whore? Well..."

He had such an evil grin on his face that I shuddered at what he might have in mind.

We didn't say much at dinner, but Uncle Bill kept giving me these leering looks that really made me wonder about him. After dinner, I cleared the table and washed the dishes, while he showered. He came out of the bathroom using a big towel to dry himself, and when was finished, he laid the towel on the floor in front of the sofa, directly in line with the television.

He squatted down in front of the TV, his big dick hanging between his legs, and looked in the cabinet that the TV sat on. He picked out a tape, turned on the box and plugged the tape in.

"Get your clothes off and come on over here, Sophie," he said, rather forcefully. "I got an educational video I want you to see."

I did as I was told, fearful of angering my uncle any further. I peeled off my shorts, my T-shirt and my panties, and sat down on the sofa naked, next to my equally naked uncle. He wrapped his right arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer, and his hand gently caressed my breast.

The video started, and went through a couple of trailers for upcoming attractions, then the title flashed on the screen and my blood ran cold. The name of the movie was "Anal Angels," and it hit me at that moment what Uncle Bill's "surprise" was.

Bill must have felt me tense up, because he tightened his hold on my shoulder. If I had thought oral sex was dirty, then the thought of anal sex was positively filthy.

I was lucky in a sense. I've since learned that forced anal sex is a feature by which girls in schools like the one I was placed gained control over other, younger girls. But, for some reason, they had never tried that with me. I guess it was because I had proven to be so docile - shell-shocked was more like it - that they didn't have to resort to that.

So up until that moment, I had never had so much as a finger past my anal ring, and the idea of putting a foreign object of any sort up my behind, the place where my shit came out, filled me with disgust.

Yet it now appeared that Uncle Bill was going to try to get his big cock in my tiny butthole, and I freaked.

"Uncle Bill, you can't do that to me," I cried. "It's filthy and I'm too small. You'll hurt me! Please, don't make me do that! It's disgusting!"

"Shhhhh, calm down, relax," Bill said, his mood softening. "It's not disgusting, if you're clean. And when it's done by someone who loves you, someone who takes his time to get you open, it can bring you very intense pleasure."

On the screen, a blonde woman with big tits was working over a big-cocked stud with her hand and her mouth, getting him hard so she could use his cock.

"How?" I asked, as I began to cry. "Why would you want to do it back there anyway?"

"Sophie," Uncle Bill continued in his most soothing tone of voice. "Men will pay double to fuck your tiny ass as they will for your pussy, and you need to be prepared to accommodate them. They'll love fucking a tight little hole, and they'll pay you well for it. I'll go slowly, and if you will relax, I promise you that you'll come to enjoy it. In fact, I'll bet that by the time I get ready to fuck you, you'll be begging for me to put it in your butt. Watch, and learn."

I was still trembling as he pulled me back closer to him, and his right hand slid between my legs. I was moderately wet, but not like I needed to be, so Bill licked a couple of fingers and used them to roll my clit around. That did the trick, that and the action on the screen, which was getting hot and heavy.

The blonde woman was on her back and the stud was plowing his big cock in her juicy pussy. In spite of my fears, Bill's fingers in my creamy pie were starting to feel pretty good, and I instinctively wrapped my left hand around his cock, which was already leaking pre-cum.

I stroked him slowly up and down, just the way I knew he liked, and I must have been doing something right, because he gave out a satisfied groan of pleasure.

On the screen, the woman had gotten up on her knees and the man was licking her pussy from behind, then it showed him moving up and licking her asshole. I stared at the screen, utterly fascinated by what he was doing, and her response to it.

The man was licking all around her puckered ass, and even as I watched, he slid his middle finger in just slightly. Even that caused the woman to squeal and squirm in delight. I had never imagined that a man would even want to fuck a woman in the ass, let alone put his mouth back there.

But I was learning on this day that a lot of things I had never imagined that I, or anyone else, could and would do, were things I could and would have to be willing to do. And if, as Uncle Bill said, anal sex was part of the job of being a well-paid whore, then I knew instinctively that I needed to learn how to do it.

My train of thought was broken as Bill pulled my head down toward his lap, and I knew what he wanted. He held his cock with his left hand, so that it was standing straight up. It was somewhat bigger than the ones Calvin and Pete possessed, and I wasn't sure how much I'd be able to take.

I tried to recall how the women in the movies did it, and how I'd done it earlier that day. I tentatively stuck my tongue out, licked around the head of his cock and up to the hole at the tip. I tasted his clear pre-cum and it wasn't bad, just kind of pasty. Then I licked my way up and down the shaft getting him coated with my saliva.

"Mmmmm, good girl," Bill whispered. "Now take it in your mouth and suck me."

I kept one eye on the screen as I felt Uncle Bill's hand on the back of my head putting subtle pressure on me to take his cock in my mouth. I opened my mouth wide, slid the bulbous head of his cock past my lips and descended down the throbbing shaft. I took as much as I could, about half of it, before he hit the entrance to my throat and I began to gag.

I began to work my mouth up and down the shaft, just like I'd seen and soon had a pretty good rhythm going. At that point, Bill's right hand moved between my legs, pulled my right leg up so that my pussy was open to his touch and resumed fingering my now-juicy slot.

I groaned over his cock as sensations of lust began to build in my body. Then I looked up and I had to stop for a moment, because the stud in the movie had moved behind the blonde and was furiously fucking her ass.

And was she ever loving it. Maybe it was part of the act, but if it was, she was sure convincing, because she was moaning heavily, crying out in ecstasy and squirming enthusiastically under the man's body.

I kept my eyes on the TV as I resumed working my uncle's cock with my mouth, now with a great deal more enthusiasm. I was beginning to think that maybe Uncle Bill was right, that it was all in how it was done. I would soon find out for myself.

Abruptly, Bill pulled my mouth off his cock, sat me up on the sofa and slid to the floor on his knees. He positioned himself between my legs, which he pulled open as wide as he could.

"Keep watching," he said in a voice husky with lust. "It gets better."

I was staring at the screen as the man rolled over onto his back, pulling the woman over on top of him. Now I could really see his big cock disappearing and reappearing as her ass moved up and down the fat shaft. Her fingers were furiously working at her pussy, apparently sending her into paroxysms of passion.

Suddenly, I felt Uncle Bill's tongue slash its way up my dripping pussy as he started eating me out. He wrapped his tongue around my clit, then worked his way back down my slit, down to my pink puckered asshole, which he rimmed lightly.

"Arrrgh!" I exclaimed, as my arousal began to quicken. "God, eat me, Uncle Bill! Your tongue feels soooo gooood!"

And he did. He worked his whole mouth around my increasingly-hot pussy, then slid his tongue back down to stab at my ass, licking all around the opening and lightly penetrating me. Soon he added his fingers to my pussy and finger-fucked me briskly while he tongued my ass.

I couldn't believe the tingly sensations from his tongue on my ass. It was like nothing I had ever felt before, a kind of shivery sizzle that went straight to my pleasure core and directly to my brain.

I watched goggle-eyed and groaning as the man in the movie pulled the woman off his ass, an action that left her hole wide open, rolled her onto her back, picked her legs back up and rammed his cock back into her butt. Her howls of pleasure filled the apartment as he fucked her ass hard and fast.

I could feel one of Bill's fingers circling my wet asshole. He was putting just enough pressure to open me up, but not enough to actually penetrate me, and I was actually beginning to want him to put it in me. But I wasn't quite ready to beg him for that.


The closer I came to a crushing climax, however, and the more he worked his tongue and finger around my ass, the more I wanted it. And when he finally pushed his finger in slightly, I found myself hitting a peak.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 02



I was just on the edge of a major orgasm, especially when the stud on the TV pulled his cock out of the woman's ass and shot a huge cumload all over her belly. That's when Uncle Bill stopped, pulled himself away and stood up. I groaned in frustration. I was so close, but he just grinned wickedly.

"Get on your knees, on the floor," he said. "This next part is something you'll really appreciate."

I was eager now to do whatever he wanted, as long as he made me come. It was just like the previous night, when he had gotten me so worked up I would have agreed to anything.

The next scene had started, and my jaw dropped because the woman was a tiny redhead, no bigger than me, if that, and the cock she was gleefully sucking was bigger than the one in the previous scene.

Then I felt Uncle Bill's fingers working both my dripping pussy and my wet ass. He slid two fingers in my pussy from behind, but still didn't penetrate my ass. He just sort of played with the outside.

I watched as the redhead and her stud moved into a 69 position, and the camera gave the viewer a clear look at her pink pussy and tiny asshole. His tongue was licking all over both her pussy and ass, like my uncle had just been doing with me. Bill seemed to read my mind.

"If she can take him, you can take me," he said.

Suddenly, I felt something warm and wet dribble down the crack of my ass, over my asshole and over my red-hot pussy. I looked back to see Uncle Bill squeezing a liberal amount of baby oil over my crotch. When he had a good bit dripping from between my legs, he began to work his fingers at both of my holes.

Again, two fingers disappeared into my cunt, with his thumb rolling my clit just often enough to keep my arousal at a fever pitch. And he had also resumed rimming my ass with his finger, opening me, but not penetrating me.

I watched as the woman in the movie got up on her knees and placed her pussy over the huge cock that was sticking up from between the man's legs. She placed the head to her slit and slowly lowered herself, and as she did, her groans filled the room, along with usual cheesy porn music.

I was so engrossed in what I was watching that I was caught by surprise when Uncle Bill's middle finger slipped past my sphincter. I started to tense up and I took in a sharp breath, but he just told me to relax, and I did.

"Watch the TV, and let yourself go," he said, in an almost hypnotic tone of voice, as he slowly began to work his finger back and forth in my oily ass.

I stared at the TV, watching the girl work her hips up and down on the man's cock. And when Uncle Bill added another finger to my ass, I barely reacted. Or, rather, I didn't tense up. I did react, but not in the way I had expected I would.

Truth is, his fingers were starting to feel real good in my ass. I could feel a kind of glowing flow emanating from my butt that sent my arousal climbing, especially when he slid two fingers in my pussy. He had four fingers working my crotch, two in my butt and two in my pussy, and I was soaring on a fast track to absolute nirvana.

I felt Bill pour more oil over my crotch, covering his hand, which never stopped moving. And now the scene on the TV was getting really hot. I watched in disbelief as the redhead pulled her dripping cunt off the big cock she'd been fucking and knelt on the bed.

The man got up on his knees and pressed the head of his cock to her butthole. She was urging him on with moans and cries of passion, but all you could see on the screen was a close-up of his cock pushing at her anus, until it suddenly popped past her tight ring. She squealed loudly - and pleasantly - as his cock slowly pushed its way into her ass.

At that moment, something in me snapped. Suddenly, I wanted my Uncle Bill's cock in my ass more than I'd ever wanted anything in my whole life. Or at least it seemed that way at the time.

"God! Damn!" I cried out. "Please, don't tease me any more Uncle Bill! Fuck me and make me cummmmm!"

"Fuck you where, Sophie?" he panted. "Where do you want me to fuck you?"

"IN MY ASS, DAMN YOU!" I snarled at him. "FUCK MY GODDAMN ASS, YOU BASTARD!"

I felt a weird combination of lust and despair at that moment. I wanted him to fuck my ass so bad I couldn't stand it, but what was left of my rational brain knew that he'd beaten me. He'd gotten me so worked up, so turned on, that I was begging him to do something to me I'd always thought of as disgusting.

But I didn't care. I needed to cum so bad; all rational thought was out the window. Bill pulled his hand out of me, and I actually groaned in frustration at the loss of that which had been giving me such pleasure.

Bill got up behind me and pressed his oil-covered cock to my pink asshole. I willed myself to relax, and watched in total lust as the man in the movie was giving the little redhead every inch of his cock in her ass, and she was bucking back trying to get as much in as she could.

The first time Bill pushed, he slipped and plunged into my cunt. I groaned happily as he gave my pussy a couple of nice in-and-out thrusts, getting me right on the edge of a huge orgasm. But we both knew that wasn't what either of us wanted.

"Pull your butt open," Bill ordered, and I complied readily. I could feel my asshole stretching as I held myself open for him. Again, he put the head of his cock to my hole and pushed very slowly, and, lo and behold, the head of his cock suddenly passed my sphincter and entered my ass.

I literally saw stars, and I screamed in some unholy combination of pain and pleasure. Even though I had been well lubricated and well opened by Bill's mouth and fingers, it was still about as painful as I could have ever imagined it would be.

But I was also feeling sparks of pleasure from being filled like that, and Bill was as good as his word. He kept just the head of his cock in my ass, waiting for me to adjust to his size, and when I did, I could feel the orgasm beginning to reignite, this time with much more intensity than before.

I watched as the girl on the TV reached under her body and started fingering her pussy, and I imitated her action. And when my finger hit my bloated clit and slid through my wet, swollen cunt lips, it was like a firecracker went off.

My whole body just exploded in an orgasm that dwarfed anything I'd ever thought possible, and I could feel Bill's cock pushing its way in, slowly, but steadily. I just went crazy - writhing, panting, sweating, swearing - I was like a live wire as my body reacted to this unspeakably lewd act.

Bill was trying to take it slow and easy, but I'd had enough of slow and easy. I didn't care whether it hurt or not, I wanted all of his big cock in my butt, and I hurled my ass back to get what I wanted. He took the hint, because he began fucking my ass hard and fast. Our bodies worked together in a frenzy of lust.

"FUCK MEEEEE!" I wailed. "FUCK MY ASSSSSSS! DOOOOOO IIIIIIITTTTT!"

I could hear Uncle Bill grunting like a pig as he fucked my ass with long hard strokes. My hand was like a blur in my pussy as I fired off a succession of explosive climaxes.

I could tell Bill was getting close, because he was groaning and panting in ecstasy, as we both stared at the TV. On the screen, the stud abruptly pulled his cock from the redhead's ass, and she turned around just in time for him to spew a huge cumshot across her face.

That sent me tumbling into oblivion, and it must have done the trick for Bill as well, because I felt his cock swell to an impossible size in my ass, then he filled my bowels with hot, creamy cum. Our oily, sweat-covered bodies shivered and twitched as we came together. For long seconds, he kept firing hot bolts of cum deep in my body.

I was barely conscious as I felt something like an out-of-body experience. Uncle Bill kept his cock in me for a long time after he had cum, as we slowly collapsed onto the floor. I felt little aftershocks of pleasure as Bill's cock slowly wilted in my ass, then slithered out of my sore bottom, followed by a river of cum that dripped over my pussy onto the towel.

I don't know that I've ever had a stronger, more intense orgasm than the one I had that first time Uncle Bill fucked my ass, but I spent the next four years trying to match it.

Uncle Bill finally got up and shut off the movie, then he helped me up and took me to bed. I started to go into my little room, to my old bed, but he stopped me.

"From now on, you sleep in my bed," he said. "That bed is where you're going to work."

I didn't argue with him, because, frankly, I was too tired to argue. Indeed, at the time, I thought it was sweet that he wanted me to sleep with him. It was only later, much later, that I realized that when I abandoned my old bed, moved in with him, and began sleeping in his bed, that it was the final step into his taking full possession of me.

Looking back on it, from that moment on, Uncle Bill owned me, mind, body and soul, and I was about to find out just what that meant. 



Me and My Uncle Ch. 03



I went to school the next day thinking that everyone would know what Uncle Bill and I had been up to all weekend.

I felt like I had a big W, for whore, stamped on my forehead, and that everyone at school would see it and nod knowingly. But nobody said anything. Still, I was nervous.

Not only was I nervous about people at school finding out about me and my uncle, but I was also apprehensive about what Bill had said the night before about going somewhere that night, something about learning how to suck cocks.

When I got home, Uncle Bill had me work the register, like I did most days, while he went upstairs to do some business, so he said. And I guess he did, because he had me work straight through until closing, rather than going up and fixing supper.

As soon as we closed, he told me to get in his pickup and we took off. We drove to Jeff City, stopped and grabbed some burgers, then we went to the mall. We went to several shops, and he bought me some clothes, but these weren't clothes I could wear to school.

Nope, these were what I came to call my whore outfits. Uncle Bill bought me several short, slinky dresses, mostly of thin material. They revealed a lot of my legs and a lot of my breasts, what there were of them. He also bought me several pairs of stockings, several garter belts and four pairs of thigh-highs. We also bought some cosmetics - mascara, blood-red lipstick, eye liner - stuff that when worn made me look like a slut. Our final stop was to a shoe store where he bought two pairs of high heels, the slutty kind with open toes and thin straps across my feet.

Significantly, he bought me no bras or panties. It was about dark when we got back to the truck. As soon as we climbed in the cab, Uncle Bill ordered me to take off my clothes and put on one of the outfits.

"Here?" I asked, incredulously.

"Right here, right now," he said forcefully. "Sophie, you're going to have to learn that the only acceptable response to anything I tell you to do is 'yes sir.' How many times do I have to tell you that before you learn? I told you to change clothes and I want you to do it NOW! Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," I said timidly. Looking back on it, I seethe when I recall how docile I was back then. Maybe if I had stood up for myself then, a lot of what was done to me later would have never happened. But it would be a long time before I developed enough backbone to rebel at the way my uncle treated me, and it almost came too late.

So I quickly shed my shoes, my T-shirt, my jeans and my socks, and waited for Bill to show me what he wanted me to wear. I was mortified, then, when told me roughly to keep going, to take off my bra and panties.

I was afraid of someone coming up and seeing me naked in my uncle's pickup, but I was more afraid of disobeying him, so I quickly shed my underwear.

Bill handed me one of the new dresses he'd bought me, a thin, loose-fitting one-piece miniskirt of an almost translucent material with a gray and pink floral pattern. I waited for him to hand me more, but the only thing he gave me was a pair of my new shoes.

That was it. I still felt naked without my underwear, but I didn't say anything. Uncle Bill was in one of his moods, as I'd already seen, and it was better to just shut up and do what he said. For the final touch, he told me to put on some of the make-up we'd bought, and to lay it on thick.

I felt like some kind of circus freak as we drove out of the mall parking lot and headed for the seedier side of town. After driving for a few minutes, we pulled up in front a rough-looking bar called Cosmo's Saloon that had a lot of pickups and motorcycles parked in front. My heart was in my throat as we got out and walked to the door.

Just before we entered, Bill told me not to tell anyone that he was my uncle, that if anyone asked, I was his girlfriend.

I will never ever forget the feeling of entering that bar that night and seeing the leering looks on the faces of the men in that bar. I felt like a zoo animal on display. What made it worse was trying to walk without falling down.

Until that moment, I had never had on a pair of high heels in my life, and I could almost hear the derisive laughter as I wobbled toward the bar. It was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life, and no one so much as touched me.

Thankfully, a young man at the bar got up and offered me his stool, and I sat down, grateful to be off my feet. In all honesty, however, I'm not sure if he was being gentlemanly or if he was offering me a seat so that I would unwittingly show off my naked pussy. I kept my knees clamped firmly together to prevent that, but my short skirt still rode up my thighs, giving the drooling patrons a look at most of my legs.

Bill ordered two beers and handed me one. In 1988, Missouri had still not raised the legal drinking age to 21, so I could drink legally, if I so chose. But I really didn't want a beer. I had always been afraid of alcohol because of my vivid painful memories of my mother's drunkenness, but Uncle Bill told me to take it, so I did.

Later, I would be grateful for the refuge alcohol provided, as a means to numb myself to the things I did. But that first beer - and it was the very first taste of alcohol in my life - went down awfully hard.

Uncle Bill walked off to speak to some people that he obviously knew, leaving me alone at the bar. Sure enough, several guys walked up and started hitting on me, and I nervously tried to smile and engage them in conversation. But they seemed to back off when I told them I was Bill's girlfriend. I got the distinct impression that Bill Trotter was a known and respected person in that establishment.

Only the bartender seemed to know the real score. After the guys drifted off, he leaned in real close and spoke. He was a big, bearish man with tattoos all up and down both arms.

"Listen, Sophie," he said. "You can relax. Ain't nobody gonna fuck with you here. Bill ain't gonna stand for it, and neither will I."

That made me feel a little better, and I finally finished my first beer, and the second one wasn't quite as much of a struggle. We chatted, and I learned that he'd grown up in the same town as Uncle Bill and knew my mom from high school.

Of course, after I finished that second beer, I had to pee, and I was terrified of the idea of walking to the ladies room, under the influence of two beers on high heels. So I walked slowly and carefully to the bathroom, a stride that resulted in an exaggerated hip motion that caught the eye of every man in the joint.

I got finished, and returned to the bar, but before I sat down, Uncle Bill took me by the arm, said it was time to go and escorted me out.

"Where are we going now?" I asked, feeling a little more relaxed from the two beers.

"You'll see," he said. "I've got some business to conduct, and you're a part of it."

We drove about a mile until we came to a fairly large cinderblock building. My eyes got wide as I saw the garishly lit sign that said, "ADULT VIDEOS." In smaller lettering it said the establishment had books, magazines, videos and novelties.

We pulled in and parked, and I got a real queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had an idea what we were there for, although at that moment I wasn't sure how it would happen. All I knew was that somehow this was where I would, "learn to suck cock."

Uncle Bill pulled a large cardboard box out of the locked toolbox in the bed of the truck. I peeked inside and saw it contained videos and magazines from the store, stock that apparently hadn't sold particularly well. There were maybe a dozen cars parked in the lot, and I felt fearful about what was to come.

When we entered, we were greeted by the person working the counter, a handsome young black man who was introduced as Darren. He had a friendly smile, but I still shivered as he looked me up and down with an appraising eye. I wondered if I was going to be expected to suck his cock, and the idea actually kind of intrigued me, since I'd never before come close to a sexual encounter with a black man.

Darren pointed Bill in the direction of the back office, and he took the box with him, I guess, to exchange for newer stock. I looked around the store, and noticed a black curtain hanging over a doorway off to the side, just past the counter.

The sign over the top of the entrance advertised video booths, and as I watched, several of the patrons - who had been eyeballing me with some relish - exchanged some bills for metal tokens, walked through the curtain and disappeared.

In spite of my apprehension, I started to become aroused as I wandered the aisles and saw the depictions of hardcore sex on the covers of the magazines, books and videos. Four years of watching porn with my uncle had given me a taste for that sort of thing, and I could feel my pussy swelling and moistening as I saw videos of every conceivable sex act.

I was lost in thought when I heard Bill calling my name and telling me to come back to the office. When I got to the office door, I saw Bill talking to an older, heavy-set man who was sitting back in an office chair by a large cluttered desk.

"Sophie, this is Murph," Bill said. "He's the owner of this establishment. I've made a deal with him to use his, ah, facility tonight. One of the terms of the deal is that he gets to fuck you first. I'll be around, so look me up when you're done."

I guess I had a little bit of a shocked look on my face, because Bill walked up to me and whispered in my ear.

"You'd better take REAL good care of Mr. Murph, you understand?" he snarled.

"Yes sir," I answered.

"Good girl," he said, his demeanor softening. "You'll do fine, just do what comes naturally. Don't worry, I'll be right outside."

Of all the clients I had over the four years I prostituted for Uncle Bill, Murph stands out, and not in a good way. He was short, fat and had a sweaty odor about him that was quite repulsive. Plus, he was quite obnoxious. As soon as the door closed, and I turned around, I saw him sitting in his chair leering at me with his dick sticking out of his fly.

"Come on over here, baby," he said. "I want to see you get me hard. On your knees, whore."

That grated on me, and it would every time he saw me. Never once did he call me by my name. It was always, "baby," "whore," and "bitch." But he was the client and I was indeed the whore, so I couldn't complain.

I knelt between his legs and took his cock in my hand and began to stroke him up and down, then I took him in my mouth. I nearly gagged when I did, because his cock tasted vile, almost like he'd peed in his pants. With effort, I worked my mouth up and down until I had him as hard as he was going to get.

He had a pretty small cock, 4 or 5 inches, and coming after Uncle Bill, it felt like a toothpick in my mouth. Later that night, I would pray for a toothpick-sized cock, but at the time, his size made me chuckle.

When he was fully hard, he stood me up and had me lie back on the desk. He pulled my skirt up to my waist, ran a couple of stubby fingers through my lips and smirked as he encountered the dew that had gathered from my earlier perusal of his merchandise.

"Oh, you are a hot one, aren't you," he said. "I'll bet you fuck like a fish."

Like I said, the man was disgusting. Still, I got a little bit of a charge when he grabbed me by the hips and slid his cock all the way up me in one thrust, but it wasn't much. I mean, Murph didn't even bother to drop his pants. He just stood up with his dick sticking out of his fly and fucked me like I was some milking machine. He never even touched me other than to work my hips on his cock. It was just in-and-out, in-and-out.

But I acted like he was some movie stud, giving him as much hip-thrusting motion as I could muster in that position. It hit me, then, that this was what being a whore, a prostitute, was really all about.

I was going to be expected to perform all sorts of sex acts with men - and possibly a few women (although I didn't realize that at the time) - that I would have never otherwise given the time of day to, whether I liked them or not. If they had the money, or, in Murph's case, something of value in trade, I was going to fuck them. Period.

And that depressed me. That was when I got the idea that this was going to be a real downer of a night. It had already started out on a sour note, with Uncle Bill in a bad mood. It had continued with my having to strip and change clothes in the mall parking lot, through the depressing scene at the bar and now this totally mechanical sex act with a slob.

Fortunately, Murph didn't have much staying power, so after about five minutes on the desk, he grunted loudly and shot a surprisingly hot, hard cum shot in my pussy, and I managed to use what I had learned from Uncle Bill to squeeze every drop of cum from his cock.

Then his dick flopped out of me, he backed away, zipped himself up and pointed toward the door.

"You can let yourself out," he said as he walked off to the far wall of the office to inspect a video or something. I had thought he would at least say thank you, and maybe offer me something to clean up with, but he didn't. So I hopped down off the desk and cringed as I felt his cum oozing from my cunt. It felt squishy with every step I took, and I desperately wanted to find a bathroom and clean it up.

Uncle Bill was waiting for me, however, and he took me by the elbow and escorted me to the side of the store, through the black curtain and into a world I hadn't known existed until that very moment.

It was garishly lit, with a blue light at one corner and a red light in another, and we probably encountered seven or eight men just loitering. The area consisted of a long hallway with a half-dozen doors on each side, each with a red light above the door. About half of the lights were lit, and I watched as one red light went off. A man emerged from inside and made his way to another door, one with a light that wasn't on. He went inside, and presently the light came on.

"What is this place?" I asked my uncle.

But he just grinned wickedly and said, "you'll see."

We passed a set of three doors on either side of the hall, then a small, narrow door, then there was another set of three doors on each side. Bill came to the middle one on the right and waited. As we did, Darren came back and Bill nodded at him before he went through the narrow door. A minute or so later, the light went out and a man emerged looking rather disheveled, and he was adjusting his pants.

We went inside into the pitch-blackness, and I felt Uncle Bill pull me close. The room was small, no more than 10 feet square, and with two us of in there, I got a feeling of claustrophobia, which was compounded by the peculiar odor in the room. It smelled kind of musty, but there was also something vaguely familiar about it, like it was something I'd smelled before, recently.

"OK, Sophie, this is where you really start earning your keep," he said. "I told you that you were going to learn to suck cock tonight, and this is where you will learn."

Suddenly, a TV monitor came on, bathing the small room in the flickering light. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized that it was a porno film. A woman with short brown hair and big tits was kneeling on the floor sucking on a fairly sizable cock.

Then Bill fiddled with a knob of some sort and the picture changed, to a slim blonde woman kneeling on a floor surrounded by three men with big cocks. She was going from one cock to the other, sucking and slobbering on all three as she made it from one to the other.

I could feel my pussy beginning to tingle, from the scene on the TV and from the cum that was dripping slowly down the insides of my thighs. At that moment, I took a look at the surroundings and was taken aback to see a live cock sticking through the wall, a hard, live cock.

That's when I noticed that two holes had been cut out of the paneling, one on the left side of the little room and one on the other. I heard the sound of someone from the left clearing their throat impatiently.

"Well, don't just stand there, get down there and suck the man's cock like a good whore," Uncle Bill said roughly. As he did, he sort pushed down on my shoulders and I dropped to my knees so that I was at eye level with a fairly long cock, which I instinctively took in hand and began to softly stroke.

It took me a second to realize that I was kneeling on a hard concrete floor, that I had landed right in something on the floor that was sort of sticky-slimy, and that it was all over the floor, no matter where I positioned my knees. It hit me then what it was, and what that smell was I'd encountered when we first entered the room.

I looked up at Uncle Bill, and he already had his big cock out and was slowly jacking himself as he watched the movie on the screen.

"Is that what I think it is on the floor?" I asked, with a touch of revulsion in my voice.

"What do you think it is?" he asked with a smirk.

"C-c-cum?" I said, hesitantly. Uncle Bill laughed, and I heard laughter coming from the other side of the wall. I realized, then, why the man had come out before us adjusting his pants, and I thought for a second that I was going to be sick. Then Uncle Bill refocused my attention.

"You have work to do, and it's not giving that man over there a hand job," Bill said forcefully. "You're here to suck cock, so get to it. He's paid his money for your mouth, not your hand."

Fearful of upsetting my uncle any further, I opened my mouth, bent my head toward the wall and let the head of the man's cock slide into my mouth. I was filled with puzzled feelings as I began to work my mouth back and forth on the cock that belonged to a man I couldn't see, a man who had paid $20 for the privilege of being sucked off like that.

I couldn't comprehend the anonymous nature of this encounter, and I really couldn't believe that I was there, on a cold concrete floor, kneeling in a puddle of cum, sucking off a man who had his cock sticking through a hole in the wall of an X-rated movie arcade.

But I finally decided to not think about it, and just do it. And, man did I. For the next three hours, I sucked cocks of every kind, and the amazing thing about it is that I still remember every single one of them, what they looked like, the order in which they came at me and how I reacted to each one.

It was an event that burned itself in my memory forever, and to this day I sometimes find myself replaying it, usually when I'm trying - or Ron is trying - to work me toward an orgasm.

It took about 10 minutes before that first cock swelled in my mouth and I tasted - and swallowed - his hot, tangy cum. I thought I did all right, although I could only take about half of him before his cock hit the entrance to my throat and I started gagging.

After that cock had pulled itself away, Uncle Bill turned me around to the other side of the booth, where a man had a short, but fat cock sticking through the hole. This one didn't make me gag, but it stretched my lips pretty wide open, and when he got all of his cock in my mouth, I could barely breathe.

As he worked his cock as far as he could get in my mouth, I could feel a sloppy stream of drool run out the corners of my mouth and down my chin. This guy insisted on filling me to the brim when he came, and I kind of coughed and gagged when he came. That caused some specks of sperm to fly out over my cheeks a little bit.

I took two heaving breaths before Bill turned me around back to the other side where an average-sized cock, maybe 6 inches and fairly slender, was waiting. I sucked about two-thirds of him in before I started gagging, and Bill took an interest at that point.

"Come on, you can take more," he said in almost a growl. "Go on, take it deeper."




Me and My Uncle Ch. 03



I tried, but I kept gagging, so Bill took the back of my head and pushed me so that the man's cock entered my throat. I squealed and squirmed, and tried to get away, but his hold on my head was solid. The man on the other side of the wall picked up on what was going on, because he started fucking my mouth with a vigorous back-and-forth motion.

I could feel my eyes watering and my stomach churning as the man worked in my mouth, until I felt him swell, and when he exploded with a hard cumshot, I couldn't hold that position. I wrenched my head free of Uncle Bill's grasp, and, of course, the spewing cock jerked out of my mouth as well.

I felt hot cum splatter all over the place as I gasped for air. It landed on my cheeks, my forehead, my shoulder and my chest before I regained my composure. Uncle Bill was not happy. He took my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks, knelt down and got right in my face.

"You're going to learn how to deep throat a cock tonight if you have to choke to death trying," he snarled.

"B-b-but I can't," I bawled, as I burst into tears. "Please? Please, don't hurt me, Uncle Bill. I'll try, but don't make me choke like that again. Please?"

"Oh, then you gonna choke on this f'sure," a voice from behind me said. I turned around and just seemed to stop. For sticking through the wall was the longest cock I'd ever seen, and it was black as a piece of charcoal.

I said earlier that the idea of sucking a black man's cock intrigued me, and certainly this one both intrigued me and terrified me. Blacks were pretty scarce in the county where I grew up, and out of a high school of some 500 students, we had maybe a dozen or so.

But a couple of my friends - remember, I hung out with the misfits - had been with one or two of the black guys at my school and some other schools, and they loved it. Even then, it was sort of a taboo, and they got a kick out of violating that unwritten law that said whites fucked whites and blacks fucked blacks.

So I'd always been curious, and my curiosity was about to be piqued. In spite of my apprehension, I suddenly felt myself relaxing. It was strange. Just seconds after being so upset, a sense of calm enveloped me. I knew I wasn't going to take all of the long, black cock that stood up through that hole, but I knew I was going to try my best.

I took it in my hand and licked up and down the shaft, the way Calvin and Pete had showed me the day before, slurping up the pre-cum that boiled out the tip. This man's cock wasn't as fat as the one earlier, so my mouth wasn't open quite as wide. The head of his cock slid past my lips into my mouth, and I sucked him with something like relish.

Maybe it was just my attitude, but consistently over the next four years, the best customers I had were black men. They usually had nice big cocks and they always made sure I got some pleasure out of the encounter.

And it began with this anonymous man at the video booth. When Bill started to angrily push my head into his abdomen, the man coolly told him to let me go.

"Be cool, brother," the voice said. "She'll take as much as she can, and that's enough."

He slowly, rhythmically, pushed his cock back and forth in my mouth, and I made a concerted effort to get past my gag reflex and take more of him in. He had a nicely shaped and very tasty cock, and I found myself really wanting to please this man.

I managed to get past my gag reflex a couple of times before my stomach started heaving, and I had to back off a little. But I really put some effort into my work, rolling my tongue around his shaft as he pumped my mouth, taking him out and laving his whole cock and balls with my tongue, and generally giving him his money's worth.

Finally, after about 15 minutes, I could feel his motions becoming jerky and I could hear him panting and grunting as he began to fuck my mouth faster and harder. He sort of cried out, so I engulfed as much of his cock as I could and felt hot splatters of cum hit the back of my throat. This time, I swallowed every drop effortlessly, then licked every lingering bit of cum off his shaft.

It was the first time I really enjoyed giving a blowjob, but it sure wouldn't be the last.

The next five men I sucked off had smallish or average-sized cocks, and I was able to take all of them with very little trouble. I was actually starting to get into what I was doing, and I was getting to where I was starting to like the taste of cum. It was kind of a salty-sweet taste, very unique.

As I felt all of these warm, living creatures in my mouth, gaining sexual gratification from me, I began to get really aroused. It seemed like the whole area between my legs was wet from Murph's cum, my juices and the sweat that was starting to cover me. I went from side to side sucking cock, and as I did, I reached between my legs, slid my fingers through my soaking-wet labia and began to frig myself, searching for what would be my first orgasm of the night.

I looked up at one point, and Uncle Bill had his pants down around his knees and was stroking himself with purpose, with one eye on the video screen and the other on me. He had changed the channels, and a petite black girl was on her back getting plowed by a big white cock.

The 10th cock to poke through a hole in the wall, however, was the biggest one yet. It was as long as the black guy's cock, but considerably fatter, and he seemed to sense my hesitation.

"Let's see you suck all of this one, cunt," the guy said with a sort of sneering tone of voice. I looked up at Uncle Bill, and he was briskly fisting his cock. He gave me a stern look, and brought his hand down as if he was going to force me to take it all, but he didn't.

I was determined I was going to deep throat this guy, both to avoid Uncle Bill's disapproval and to prove to this arrogant asshole that I could do it.

I started by licking up and down the shaft and then sucked each of his balls, one after the other, then stuffed both of them in my mouth. All the time I was gently stroking the massive meat up and down, up and down.

I licked and kissed my way up his shaft, until I came to his crown. I licked up over the broad head of his cock, and hesitated just a second to get a couple of deep breaths. Here goes nothing, I thought to myself as I opened my mouth as wide as I could and slid the head past my lips.

I worked about half of him in my mouth before I started in with the back-and-forth motions. I wasn't yet taking it all, but I didn't hear any complaints coming from the other side of the wall, so I guess I was doing all right. As I worked him, I made a conscious effort to take more and more of him.

I felt the head of his cock jabbing at the entrance to my throat, and I took a deep breath through my nose and concentrated on opening my throat, and soon I felt the head pushing deeper. I fought off the feeling of nausea, and just thought about the taste.

Deeper and deeper, his cock entered my throat with each inward thrust. I was concentrating so much on keeping his cock down and keeping from throwing up that I didn't notice him start to swell and his cum exploded out the tip of his cock.

And I mean this guy came in buckets, it seemed like. He caught me by surprise, and his load was so thick and came in such a quantity, that just about all of it flowed out of my mouth from around his cock and poured off my chin onto my chest.

I did manage to pull him back and sucked the last few oozing drops of cum into my mouth, but the whole front of my dress was saturated with cum that was still dripping off my chin. I looked up at Uncle Bill, fearful of his response, but he had a kind of glazed look in his eye and a weird smile on his face as he stroked that cock while looking at the cum that was on me.

The next guy had a long slim cock, and this time I did it, and as I took all of his long cock in my throat, I felt a sizzle of arousal surge through me. Even as the thought passed through my mind, I felt the back of my dress being lifted, and I felt Uncle Bill's now-familiar cock scudding into my steaming-hot box.

I groaned heavily in lust at the feeling of having his cock back in my pussy, and I could feel an orgasm starting to spike. I was getting a rush from being filled completely at both ends, one long cock in my mouth and one long cock in my hungry cunt. And when the guy in my mouth shot his load, it seemed to slide right into my stomach, and I felt my climax finally wash through me.

Uncle Bill and I stayed right where we were, him fucking me doggy-style on the hard floor, and I was beyond caring that my knees hurt and my throat was sore. The guys were all directed to that particular booth, and for the next three or four, they came in rapid succession.

There was a guy who was moderately long and I swallowed him. The next guy had an average-sized cock, but he insisted on pulling out at the last second and spraying my face with his cum.

And when another guy with a long, black cock pumped his creamy cum down my throat, that was the trigger for Bill. He fucked me hard and fast for about 30 seconds then shot his hot, spicy load deep in my pussy.

I could feel his cum gushing out of my hole as he pulled out, and turned me around to the other booth, where a short, fat cock awaited. Bill pulled his pants up and walked out of the booth, leaving me alone with the video monitor going. But I wasn't paying any attention to it; I was devoting all of my energy to the cocks that came one after the other.

My fingers worked in my cum-filled pussy as another long cock sprayed cum on my tits, which he told me to bare for him. Then there were a couple of average guys whose loads I swallowed, and then a short guy came in my mouth, and I was able to induce myself to another crashing orgasm.

At various points, I had to get up for a few seconds to move my aching legs around. My knees were scraped and I had cum drying all up and down my chest. Or it would have been drying if I hadn't been covered in sweat from my exertions. My dress was plastered to my skin, rendering it all but see-through, had somebody been there to see it.

And presently, there was somebody, because the door to the booth opened and Darren walked in. Like I said, he was a handsome fellow who was in his mid-20s, and he proved to be a very nice guy.

"How are you doin'?" he asked.

"I'm OK," I said. "I'm getting a little tired, and my stomach's starting to get full."

"Well, look, I want to give you a heads-up," he said. "The next guy coming in on this side (he pointed to the left side of the booth), is a monster. I know him, and he's got the biggest cock you will probably ever see. Just relax and take as much as you can. If you want, I'll stay and talk you through it."

I said I appreciated that, and I was glad he did, because he wasn't joking. The freak that I saw poke through the hole was probably eight inches long and two inches thick, and it wasn't even hard yet.

"Oh my God!" I whispered.

"C'mon, babe," the voice from the other side said. "Ah paid good money for yo' hot, little mouth."

I took a big, deep breath and lapped at the head with my tongue, and immediately that thing started to straighten out. I licked and kissed my way up and down the fat shaft as my eyes widened in amazement.

When he finally got fully hard, he must have easily been 10-11 inches long. There was no way I was going to even try to get all of that thing in my throat. In fact, I couldn't have gotten him in my throat even if I'd wanted to, because the head of his cock couldn't fit.

"Maybe this will help," Darren said, and I heard him unzip his jeans.

I happened to glance back out of the corner of my eye and saw him fisting a very nice dark brown 7-inch dick. I couldn't give him any reaction other than a wink of an eye, but he must have gotten the message, because he knelt behind me and smoothly slid his cock into my sodden pussy from behind.

I was glad for the distraction, because the guy whose monster I was trying to suck kept trying to push more of it into my mouth than I could easily take, and it quickly became a chore. But Darren's cock fit me perfectly, and he fucked me slow and sensually as I struggled with that huge cock.

Finally, I could feel it start to quiver, and I gave up trying to suck him, and just jacked him off with the head of his cock in my mouth. That did the trick, and he exploded with a cumload that was fitting for the size cock he had. I swallowed some of it, but he came too fast for me to drink all of it, and I quickly had more cum dribbling out of my mouth and off my chin.

At that point, I was actually grateful for a cock that was merely long, and I worked two pretty long cocks back-to-back while Darren fucked me through three orgasms before he pulled out and shot his cum up my back.

He thanked me as he pulled up his pants and left, and I felt myself getting really weary as I came down from my orgasmic high. I was ready for this night to be over. I had done what Uncle Bill had wanted me to do, and that was learn how to suck cocks of every size. I had swallowed more cum that I could have thought possible, taken several cumshots on my face, one or two on my chest, and I had been fucked three times, including a cumshot on my back.

I felt like I had done a good night's work, and I was ready to go home and go to bed. I ached all over from being in a kneeling position so long, my knees hurt from being on the concrete floor for two hours, my jaw was numb from being held open so much and my throat felt like it had been shredded.

Unfortunately, I still had a half-dozen more to go, and that was when the night turned really sour for me. They ranged from small to average to long, and they didn't do anything that others hadn't already done. But the longer it went on, the worse I felt. My stomach began to feel bloated from all the cum I'd swallowed, and I was feeling really used.

Those last six men seemed to take forever to cum, and it was an ordeal to keep going. By the time the last man came down my throat, I felt like I was in a daze, and when Uncle Bill came in the little booth to get me, I could barely register his presence.

I staggered out of the back as Bill led me out, and the bright light of the store hurt my eyes after being so long in the dimness of the video booth. That was probably a good thing, because I noticed several men still loitering about, and I couldn't see the knowing smirks on their faces as I emerged from the video area.

I knew I looked like shit. My dress was soaked with cum and sweat, my makeup was smeared all over my face, I still had cum dripping from my chin and my hair was damp. On top of it all, I still had on those damned high heels, and as we were walking out the door, I stepped wrong and fell to the ground in a heap.

I'm sure if there had been a passing motorist at that moment, they'd have gotten a real show, because my legs went in two different directions as I landed on the gravel of the parking lot.

It was at that point that my composure completely shattered. My stomach finally rebelled from the many different tastes of the cum from 28 men, and before I could stop it, I threw up all over the ground. And when I finished vomiting up all that semen, I just completely lost it. I dissolved in a sobbing heap, bawling my eyes out at what my uncle had made me do that night.

Uncle Bill finally had to simply pick me up and carry me in his arms to the truck, and when he did, I buried my face in his chest and sobbed harder. Wisely, he didn't say a word to me all the way back to the store. I cried for the loss of whatever dignity I may have had, I cried because I still felt sick and I cried because I realized what it meant to be a whore. To be a whore meant to be used. Period. And I had been thoroughly used that night.

I finally got calmed down about 10 minutes before we got home, but I cried again when I got in the shower, which I did the second I hit the door to our apartment. I needed to wash away all the evidence of that night.

Uncle Bill was already in bed asleep, so I put on a long nightshirt and climbed in my old bed, for one final night. As I stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep, I made a conscious decision. For better or worse, I had made my bed with the devil, and there was no use crying about it.

Crying, I decided, was a sign of weakness. If I was going to survive the next four years and get out of there with my college education, I needed to be mentally and emotionally strong, and showing signs of weakness weren't going to get it done for me.

Something hardened in my heart that night, and it would be a long time before I shed any tears at all, over anything. And then it would take a particularly horrific experience to make this girl cry again. 



Me and My Uncle Ch. 04



I skipped school the day after my night at the adult bookstore. We hadn't gotten home until late, I was still feeling queasy, my throat was still sore and I was drained emotionally.

I slept in until about 10 that morning, then got up and fixed a bowl of oatmeal to settle my stomach. As I walked to the table, I noticed an envelope sitting there that had written on the front in Bill's handwriting, "Sophie's college fund." This brightened my mood, especially when I looked inside and found it stuffed with cash. I counted out $450, and that did make me feel like the previous night's ordeal was worth something.

I finally threw on a T-shirt, shorts and sandals and went downstairs to see my uncle. I had thought long and hard about what I wanted to say to him about the previous night, and I wanted to make sure I got him early while he was possibly in a reasonably good mood.

He was behind the counter talking to a fellow who hung around the store a lot, a farmer named Leo. He was a short, fairly stout, middle-aged man who had always looked at me with longing, but he was one of the nicer of Uncle Bill's friends. He smiled and greeted me warmly when I came in from the back, a cup of coffee in my hand.

"Uncle Bill, we need to talk," I said as I walked behind the counter. "Leo, would you excuse us for a minute."

"Sure, Sophie, go right ahead," he said breezily. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

I was puzzled by that, so I asked Uncle Bill what that was all about, when I got him in the office and closed the door.

"He wants to fuck you," Bill said. "He's wanted to for a long time, and I told him what we were cooking up. He's willing to pay, so whatever it is you have to say, hurry up and spit it out. He hasn't got all day, so you need to get going."

"Uncle Bill, I want you to listen hard to what I have to say," I began. "Now, I can't control what other people think about me and how other people treat me. That's out of my hands. But from you, I expect a little bit of decency and consideration. And I'm not going to accept the kind of treatment I got from you last night. It's one thing for strangers to treat me like a piece of meat, but not someone who professes to love me."

"Sophie, it was for your own good," Bill said.

"Bullshit!" I said forcefully. "You had no business pushing my head into that man's cock and forcing me to gag on it like that. That was mean. And a little bit of advance warning as to what I could expect might have made things a little easier to take. You just threw me in there and expected me to perform like... like someone who'd been doing that all of her life. You forget that I'm new at this. Hell, I didn't even know they had places like that."

"But you needed the experience," Bill said, a little lamely.

"Not like that, I didn't," I answered back. "Uncle Bill, this is my body and my life we're talking about here, and I expect some consideration. We're partners in this venture, and I would appreciate it if you treat me that way. I'm not just some nameless, faceless whore to you. I'm your niece, or as you put it, the only family you have left. Please treat me like it."

I honestly think Uncle Bill was taken aback. I'd never before spoken to him that way, and he didn't know how to react. But he recovered quickly.

"Just remember that I'm the boss," he said. "You may think of it as a partnership, but I'm going to be calling the shots and you're going to do as you're told."

"Uncle Bill, I'll do anything you want me to do," I said. I wasn't about to back down now. "All I'm asking for is for you to treat me with a little bit of respect and a lot of consideration. I want to be consulted on what I'm going to be doing, so I can at least know what I can expect and can prepare for it. And while I don't expect anyone else to respect me, I at least expect it from you."

I took a deep breath and pulled my uncle in for a hug. It was time now to be conciliatory.

"Look, I appreciate your help with my college education, I really do," I said as we embraced. "And I'll be your lover and your whore in return. Just treat me right. Please?"

"OK, sweetheart," he said. "You're right. You should be told in advance what's expected of you. And, really, you did well last night. I meant to compliment you, but I didn't think you wanted to hear it at that point. You are going to be the best whore in the county. You've got all the right instincts. You just need practice. Speaking of which, you need to take Mr. Leo upstairs and give him a fuck he'll remember the rest of his life. OK?"

"OK," I said with a chuckle. "How much should we charge?"

"I've been thinking about that," Bill said. "How about a hundred for half-an-hour. That's about what they get in the city, and if you're going to be the best, you need to charge like you're the best."

He gave me a quick kiss, then we emerged from the office. I mentioned earlier that it took me awhile to develop the backbone to stand up to my uncle, but I took the first step that morning when I confronted him on the way he'd done me in the video booth.

There were still times when he treated me like dirt, and in the end our relationship completely collapsed. But beginning that day and continuing until very late in the game, he did give me enough respect and consideration that I was able to cope.

And now it was time to use my newfound skills on Leo. He was sitting in one of the booths, drinking coffee, so I sidled up next him and put my arms around his shoulders.

"Uncle Bill says you want me," I said. "How about it? You want to go upstairs and fuck me?"

"Sh-sh-sure," he said a touch nervously. I don't think he expected me to be so forward, based on what he'd seen of me before. All of Bill's friends were about to see a new Sophie emerge, and Leo was the first to experience her.

"I'm going on upstairs and get ready," I said. "Give me five minutes, then come on up."

I bounced out of the seat and made my way through the back of the store and up the stairs to the apartment. My mood was 180 degrees changed from the way it had been when I'd gotten out of bed that morning. I was about to entertain my first paying customer, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited.

This was something I could enjoy doing, in my old bed with a nice man that I actually kind of liked. I went into the bedroom - what was now going to be my workroom - stripped off my clothes, and thought for a second how I wanted to do this.

I decided to put on a pair of my new thigh-high stockings, and nothing else. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach and a tingling in my twat as I slid the stockings up my legs and felt them attach to the top of my thighs. Then I decided to put on my heels. If I was going to do this, I figured, I'd better start getting used to those shoes.

Then I bent to the little dresser where my make-up sat, and did up my face real quick. I didn't put it on real heavy, but I did put on some ruby-red lipstick, a little bit of rouge on my cheeks and just a touch of eye shadow. When I was finished, even I was impressed.

I looked at the clock, and as I did, I heard the heavy tread of Leo's footfalls coming up the steps. I quickly lay down in a kind of reclining position, where I was on my stomach, but facing out toward the door.

To say Leo was astounded at my transformation would be an understatement. He stood in the doorway to my bedroom and just stared at me.

"My God, Sophie, you're beautiful," he whispered.

"Come on in, Leo," I said in a sultry tone. "Bill's told me how much you've always wanted to fuck me, so today's your lucky day."

"How much?" he asked, so softly I almost couldn't hear him. I told him, and he never hesitated, but just pulled out his wallet, fished out a crisp hundred-dollar bill and laid it on the dresser. Just watching him lay that money down raised goose bumps all over my body. It was now official. I was a whore. I had taken a man's money and I was going to have sex with him.

I raised myself up and knelt on the bed, so he could get a good look at my nakedness. I just sort of beckoned him, and he quickly pulled off his boots, shucked his overalls, his boxers, his work shirt and the T-shirt he'd had under it, then stood there naked except for his socks.

"Nice," I purred. And I meant it. Like I said, Leo was fairly short, maybe 5-7, and stoutly built, but he wasn't fat by any means, and he had a nice cock standing tall between his legs. It wasn't real long, maybe 6 inches, but it was pretty meaty.

"So what do you want, Leo?" I said. "How do you want me?"

"Uh, I don't know," he stammered. "I've never been with... with... a..."

"A whore?" I said, rather forcefully. "Say it, Leo. I'm a whore, OK? I'm not Sophie, Bill's little niece, any more. I'm Sophie the whore, and I'm gonna be the best damn whore in the county."

With that, I crawled off the bed, went right up to him and kissed him hard, and wormed my tongue between his lips. That seemed to break his spell, because he suddenly kissed me back, with just as much vigor, and his hands were all over my hot little body.


I had begun to surmise that I was going to have to take the initiative with Leo, and that suited my mood anyway. As we embraced, I turned him around and maneuvered him back to the bed, then lightly pushed him away.

"Lie back, Leo," I whispered. "Lie back and enjoy. Let me do the work."

His eyes were glazed as he lay back on my little bed, with his cock aimed at the ceiling. Like I said, he didn't have the biggest cock in the county, but at that moment I believe he had the hardest cock around.

I figured the poor man hadn't been laid in quite awhile, so I knew I had to tread carefully, because I wanted him to really enjoy this. I knew that if I was really good, he'd come running back for more, and he'd start spreading the word that Sophie Trotter was the best damn fuck around, and well worth top dollar.

I knelt between his legs, and softly stroked his rock-hard cock. It was a bright purple color and already leaking at the tip. And I was flowing pretty well, too. I was ready.

I held his cock at the base, straddled his hips, with my knees on the bed, fit the head of his cock at the entrance to my pussy and slowly lowered myself onto his cock. It took some real self-restraint to not simply drop my cunt on him and start fucking away, but I did it.

Inch by inch, I let my wet cunt melt down his iron shaft, until I felt his wiry pubic hairs tickling my clit. I shivered in lust as I worked my way back up, then back down, and as I did, I started to pick up a little speed, a little rhythm.

That's when Leo surprised me. He reached down, took my hips in his hands and began to work me up and down. I felt a sizzle race through my body as I felt his callused hands on my soft white skin. He also began working his own hips up and down, driving his cock methodically in my pussy.

The transformation was amazing. Gone was the timid old man who had entered my bedroom. Leo was working me with the confidence of a real pro, and I could feel my climax starting to build as we worked together for our mutual pleasure.

Leo's cock may not have been real big, but, man, he knew what he was doing. He worked my hips around in a corkscrew motion so that it seemed like with every deep thrust, he brushed my clit, sending sparks of passion through my whole body.

He was panting and moaning heavily, and I was emitting sharp cries with each wave of pleasure that rolled through my body.

I could see sweat starting to break out on his face, and I could feel the fine sheen of sweat on my own body as we worked. Leo's eyes were giving him away, because he was wincing with every deep entry in my hot, velvety cunt.

He was really pistoning his cock up and down, and I was slamming my pussy down and up to meet his thrusts. We were hurtling toward the finish, and I could feel my orgasm getting closer, closer, closer. And I could feel the telltale twitches of his cock that told me he was also pretty close.

"Um, God, Sophie!" he cried out. "You feel so... good. Gahhh! I can't... hold it."

At that moment, I gave out a loud squeal, and I shuddered from top to bottom with a really powerful orgasm. And as my pussy went into spastic contractions, I felt Leo lurch upward hard and spew a volcano of hot, thick, wet cum up my cunt. He fired so much cum that it flowed back out of my hole and covered his balls.

We twitched and twittered for a full minute before we finally settled down. Leo seemed to collapse back on the bed and I fell forward on his barrel chest, as his well-sated cock flopped wetly out of my cum-filled cunt. I just shivered as the rest of his cum flowed out of me, and he took me in his powerful arms and just held me for a minute or two.

He seemed very pensive, and he still had some time left, so I asked him what he was thinking. He looked at me with a rather disconcerting look.

"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question," he said. I nodded, and he continued. "Why, Sophie? Why have you decided to do this? You've always seemed like such a nice girl. Why do you want to become a whore?"

It was a serious question that has dogged me ever since. But I thought I had the answer back then.

"I'm doing it to pay for college," I said. "Uncle Bill is going to match whatever money I make dollar-for-dollar to pay my tuition, books and fees to go to MU for four years. This is the best way I can think of to make the money I need. Four years on my back, or on my knees, then I can get away from here and start a new life somewhere."

He just nodded, but I don't think he was convinced, so I continued. I wanted him to understand what was making me do this.

"And Leo," I said. "I'm still a nice girl, but I've never been a good girl. Ask anyone around. I'm bad news, and I'm simply living up to what I've always been, to what everyone expects me to be."

"Sophie, don't sell yourself short," Leo said, as he rolled me off of him, got up from the bed and began to get dressed. "You're a bright young lady, and I'm very fond of you. If you're going to do this, please listen to some advice. Be careful. Always be aware of your surroundings. Trust your instincts. If a situation feels wrong, back out, walk away. And, please, please, don't let yourself get burned out. I like you with the sparkle in your eyes. Don't let that die."

I was touched that he thought enough of me to give me those words of warning, and I have to say, I heeded them. Leo proved to be one of my steadiest - and best - customers. We became almost close, and he's one person I've missed since I left that county.

In subsequent encounters, I learned that Leo had been in the Army, back in the Fifties, and he'd picked up some valuable life lessons.

I also learned that he'd been married for many years, and that he still loved his wife, but she had decided some years earlier that sex wasn't for couples their age, and had cut him off. Finally, I learned of the real heartbreak in his life, a daughter who had died some years earlier of a drug overdose. I think maybe he thought of me as his surrogate daughter, but the way he fucked me wasn't very daughterly.

At any rate, he left an extra $20 on the dresser as a tip, then said goodbye and that he'd come back around again soon.

That night, Uncle Bill and I began to map out a plan for our new business. The cynic in me says he'd had this vision in his mind while he was still in the Air Force, before he ever brought me to live with him.

I don't know if that's true, but it was obvious that he'd been planning this venture for some time. His plan was to build a little bar onto the store, at the side of the building. It didn't have to be anything fancy, just a bar, a TV, some tables and chairs, a pool table, a couple of pinball machines, maybe a foosball table and a juke box. We'd just serve beer, in cans and bottles, no liquor or taps to fool with.

The idea was to give our customers some place to hang out and relax while they waited their turn with me, and to provide a cover for the nighttime traffic that would be coming and going.

After we had talked some, Uncle Bill took me to bed and really fucked me hard, and I have to say I enjoyed it.

Things went back to normal the rest of the week, except that on Thursday, Bill introduced me to Bertie, a 60-ish heavy-set lady that he had hired as a cashier. For the most part, my work behind the counter at the store ended when she was hired.

On Wednesday, Uncle Bill had me suck him off, twice, before we went to bed, and the second time I did it, he flipped me around and ate me out, and we came just about the same time. Very nice. And both times, I was able to deep-throat his big cock.

He fucked me again on Thursday before we went to sleep, then Friday night, he brought out a video that he especially wanted me to see. We got naked, sat on the sofa and he plugged the video in.

The name of it was Double Penetration, and as the opening credits ran, I found my jaw dropping at the way the women took a cock in their pussy and a cock in their ass. I was astounded, but as the movie unfolded, I also found myself getting incredibly hot.


As I watched one blonde girl take it in both holes, Uncle Bill told me that's what I was going to be doing on occasion. I was a little taken aback, and a little fearful. But when Bill got me on my knees, worked my ass open with his oil and his fingers, then slid his cock in my hot, willing ass and started fucking me with strong, steady strokes, the prospect suddenly sounded pretty good.

I didn't realize it at that moment, but I was going to get just that the very next day.

Bertie came in for her first day of work about 10 a.m. Saturday morning, and Bill told me to shower, then, "get dolled up." I had no idea where we were headed, but I had an idea it had something to do with me getting fucked, which I didn't mind one bit.

I showered, shaved my legs carefully, then came out to find that my uncle had laid out what he wanted me to wear. I dressed in a short purple wrap-around skirt, a thin white blouse, a garter belt, stockings and the thong panties he'd bought for me the week before for my birthday. Then I put on my make-up and I put it on fairly thick.

Last was a pair of my new heels. I'd practiced walking in both pairs of heels periodically through the week, and I felt a little more confidant about being able to walk around in them without embarrassing myself.

Uncle Bill actually whistled at me as I came down the steps, which made me feel real good. We got in his truck, and that's when he told me what the deal was. He'd bought me a car, a 10-year-old Chevy, and we were going to close the deal.

"I sweetened the pot just a little," he said, grinning wickedly. "Dale cut me a deal if I'd let him and his friend have you for the night."

"You mean like that movie we watched last night?" I said, my stomach suddenly boiling with nervous anticipation.

"If that's what they want," Bill answered. "Think you can handle that?"

"But you're not going to be there, right?" I said. "I mean, how well do you know these guys? Am I going to be safe with them all night?"

"I was in the service with Dale's brother," Bill said. "And I have to get back to close the store. You'll be fine. You spend the night with Dale and his friend, do whatever they want, then he'll give you the title and the keys to your car, and you can drive it home."

I wasn't so sure, but I didn't have much choice in the matter, and I did want that car.

Dale McCain, the guy we were buying the car from, owned a small used-car lot, among several other businesses, and he lived in a nice subdivision north of Columbia in a nice, fairly large house on a secluded lot. The car was parked in the yard, and I immediately took a liking to it.

It was a red two-door, with pinstripe detailing. It had quite a few miles on it, over 125,000, but the engine had been rebuilt, the tires were new and the inside was immaculate.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 04



I also took an immediate liking to Dale, and his friend Lenny. I never learned Lenny's last name. It was some Polish name that had about 18 consonants and started with K. But they were both what you would classify as hunks.

They were both 38, and single. Dale was about 6-2 and muscular, with short blond hair, while Lenny was a little shorter, a shade under six feet, with brown hair that he wore kind of long, and he also looked well-built. And their eyes lit up when they saw me. I was still a little nervous, but I did my best to sashay into the house like the pro I now was.

While Dale and Bill went off to another room to finalize the transaction, Lenny escorted me into a sizable den, where some music was playing at a rather low volume. I sat on a large leather-covered sofa, and waited while he brought me a soda. Then he sat down on the sofa with me, not quite next to me, but pretty close.

We engaged in small talk, and I found out that he and Dale had met when they played football for Moberly Junior College, not far from there, and had been best friends and business partners ever since. I told him as little about myself as I could get away with, just that I'd turned 18 a few days ago, was looking forward to graduating from high school and going on to MU.

I got the impression from the way Lenny was looking at me that he and Dale liked to fuck girls who were just as young as they could legally do so, which in Missouri at that time was age 17. I guess Bill knew that and used that knowledge to cut himself a pretty good bargain on the car.

When Bill and Dale emerged from the other room, they were in high spirits. They shook hands, then Bill called me over, I guess, for some last-minute instructions.

"Just relax, sweetheart," Bill said. "You're gonna be fine. Just do whatever they ask, and you'll have a great time. Trust me on that."

Then he kissed my cheek and was gone. I took a deep breath and turned back to the den, and got quite a shock. As soon as Bill left, Lenny gone into one of the bedrooms, returned with a large tray and he'd begun rolling a few joints.

Up until that week, I had successfully gone 18 years without drinking any alcohol or doing any drugs, and I really wasn't keen on starting. My mom's problems with substance abuse were too deeply etched in my soul for me to feel very comfortable around the stuff, so I wasn't sure what to do.

But Dale walked up to me from the kitchen area, and sort of escorted me back to the sofa, while he went to put on some different music, which startled me when it suddenly started up at a fairly high volume. Then he sat down next to me.

Lenny put the tray up, brought one of the joints in, lit it, took a big hit and passed it to me. I looked at it funny, then passed it to Dale without touching it.

"You've never smoked before, have you," he said. "Well, it's about time you find out what you're missing."

"No, no, please," I said. "I really don't want any."

"Nonsense," Lenny said. "It's not going to hurt you. Here, have a small toke."

I was stuck. Bill had said do whatever they wanted, and it was pretty clear they wanted me to smoke some pot with them. So I took the fat joint and took a couple of big puffs, and proceeded to cough my lungs out.

Dale and Lenny laughed, but it wasn't meant to be humiliating.

"That happens to everybody their first time," Dale said. "Just take a little bit and hold it in real deep."

With effort, I did it like they wanted, and they seemed to be satisfied. Truthfully, when the joint was finished, I couldn't see what the big deal was. I felt a little more relaxed, but I didn't really get high that first time.

Later on, I would indeed get the buzz that you get from the stuff, but it just never did a lot for me. I never bought any for myself, but if I was at a party, or at a client's home, and I was passed a joint or a pipe, I'd hit it, just to be sociable.

But whenever I was offered cocaine, ecstasy or any other hard drug, I adamantly refused, and explained why. I firmly believe that it was cocaine that made Mom crazy enough to come back and shoot Schultzie like she did, and I was having no part of that shit.

The joint made Dale and Lenny very mellow, however, and, apparently, very horny. They were looking me over with lustful looks in their eyes, and I started getting that nervous feeling in the bottom of my stomach that was the prelude to intense arousal.

"Why don't get up and dance for us," Lenny said.

"Yeah, and do a little strip show for us," Dale chimed in. "Let's see what the merchandise looks like."

I didn't feel too good about being referred to as merchandise, but I was ready to fuck these guys, and experience something I'd never done before, have two guys at the same time, so I let it pass for the moment.

I stood up and let the music sway me. I looked down at them with the sultriest look I could muster, and they stared back up at me with fire in their eyes. I had never been to a formal dance in my life up to that point, but I actually loved to dance. Still do.

Alone, in my room or in the den of the apartment, I'd turn the radio up when a good song played, and dance in a very sensuous way. I'd pretend I had some handsome stud with me who was dancing with me, and most of the time, the fantasy would send me running to the bed, where I'd work my fingers furiously in my bubbling twat until I climaxed.

I don't remember what they had playing on the stereo, but it was great dance music, and I swayed to and fro, doing little arm motions, and shaking my hips in a very seductive manner.

Finally, as I swayed, I began to toy with the buttons on my blouse. Slowly, I flipped them open, one after the other, until the blouse hung open. I tried to recall some of the movies and TV shows I'd seen of strippers in action to get an idea of what I was supposed to do.

As it turned out, I was a natural at it. I held the sides of my blouse tightly, not letting them get more than a peek of my little bitty titties. Finally, I flashed one boob, then the other, then I pulled the blouse off my shoulders, moving real close to them and letting them see all of my breasts, and the rock-hard nipples at their tips.

Dale and Lenny were transfixed. I don't think they expected that from me, but they were enthralled. So I milked it for all it was worth. I pulled the blouse back up on my shoulders, covered my tits again, and repeated the process. I did it once more, then pulled my blouse all the way off and tossed it aside.

I danced topless right in front of them, leaned over, so that my breasts were right in their face and invited them both to touch them. A shiver raced through my body as their hands caressed my tits and rolled my nipples around.

Lenny then leaned up and captured one nipple between his lips and sucked on it for a few seconds, then Dale did the same with the other. I closed my eyes and let the feelings of pleasure crackle from my tits to my brain and then to my pussy, which was getting wetter by the second.

I happened to look down, and saw that both men had very nice big cocks that were bulging in their jeans. Dale, especially, had a particularly large bulge in his pants, and I actually salivated in anticipation of getting it in my pussy.

But I still had more to strip off. I did the same teasing technique with my skirt, until I wriggled my hips good and it shimmied to the floor. I stepped out of it, and kicked it off in the same direction as my blouse.

I stood in front of these two men, naked except for my scanty panties, stockings, garter belt and heels. I swayed lustfully in front of them, my confidence growing with each body motion. This was where the new Sophie really took shape. I realized that I had in my little body the capacity to turn a man into jello, and I would use that knowledge over and over for the next four years. And in some ways, I still do with Ron, who has never been able to get enough of me.

I could feel myself quickening, getting hornier by the minute. I pulled my panties up so that the gusset dug into my pussy, giving them a good look at my lips, which were shiny with arousal. Then I slowly slid them down my thighs, until they were a couple of inches above my knees. I turned around, then, spread my legs and bent over, so my ass was right in their faces and my panties were stretched wide.

I don't have a lot of ass, but what I do have are a nicely shaped pair of buns that aren't the least bit bony. I felt two pairs of hands softly caress my butt cheeks, and a set of fingers sliding between my legs, giving me the first touch on my pussy.

"Man, she's hot," Dale exclaimed. "Look at this. She's already wet as hell."

And Lenny slid his fingers between my legs and stuck two fingers up my burning snatch. I groaned lustfully as Lenny finger-fucked me for maybe a minute before I pulled away. I turned around, brought my legs back together and let my panties drop to the floor. I strutted over to where Dale and Lenny were kneading their cocks through their jeans, and stood right in front of them, my legs slightly spread.

"So, does the merchandise pass inspection?" I said softly, in as sultry a tone as possible. They both just stared into my eyes as they nodded silently.

"Good," I said. "Now it's time for me to examine your merchandise. Are you guys... up... for the inspection?"

I couldn't believe how I was acting at that moment, and even now, I'm a little amazed at how shy, little Sophie Trotter; shy, inexperienced Sophie Trotter acted the vamp that afternoon for these two older men who had obviously been around the block a few times.

All kinds of wicked thoughts and horny ideas were rattling around in my mind, and one was to drop - not to my knees - but to squat in front of them while I worked first Lenny's, then Dale's shorts open and pulled out their hard cocks. In that position, my legs were spread wide open and they could see the red, open wetness of my hungry cunt.

And those two men just stared at my pussy while I, in turn, stared at the big slabs of meat they had ready for me to use. Dale's cock was at least a full inch longer than Uncle Bill's and just as fat, while Lenny's was even a little fatter than Dale's, though not quite as long. I thought they had two of the prettiest cocks I'd ever seen, perfectly formed and raging hard.

I took them both in hand, and felt them tremble under my touch. I bent my head to Dale, on my right, and slashed my tongue up the underside of his cock. I bathed his shaft with my lips and tongue, then turned and gave Lenny the same treatment.

As I came back to Dale, I was ready to quit fucking around. So, as I turned toward him, I dropped onto my knees, worked my way in close, opened my mouth wide and slipped the fat head of his cock past my lips and into my mouth. I hummed as I felt his cock scudding its way into the entrance to my throat, then I backed off and began to suck him with loud, sloppy whore sounds.

I happened to look up, and Dale had his head thrown back and his eyes were closed in a look of some reverence. I pulled his cock almost all the way out of my mouth and swirled my tongue around the crown of his cock, and he groaned loudly at that.

Then it was Lenny's turn again, and I inhaled his stiff boner with almost a fever. As time went on, I became less and less enthusiastic about mundane sexual encounters. But that afternoon, everything was fresh and new, and I was eager to experience it all.

After trading licks with the two one more time, Lenny stood up, pulled me up and had me lie back on the couch. Dale moved over to let me in, then stood up, his huge cock dangling in front of my face. Lenny spread my legs open wide, but instead of simply fucking me, like I expected, he brought his face real close to my cunt and just blew on it softly.

"Ayy, Gawd!" I exclaimed in a startled tone. His blowing on my superheated cunt was like stoking a smoldering fire with a bellows. It sent waves of crackling pleasure all through my body. For almost a full minute, he did that, then suddenly I felt his tongue slash its way furiously up my slot.

My hips were rolling and my cunt was churning, as I felt a sharp climax begin to build in my groin. Just then, I felt Dale climb back on the couch. He straddled my head and dangled his dong over my face. I didn't hesitate. I reached up, leaned my head back, grabbed his fat cock and pulled it to my mouth. I let him slide his cock into my throat, and in this position, I could actually get more of him in deeper.

I was starting to go crazy from the sensations of Lenny's talented mouth on my cunt, and Dale's magnificent meat fucking my throat. I was writhing on the couch as the white-hot spasms built to a crescendo. I arched my back as the orgasm swept over me, and I gave a muffled scream as I came hard.

I was so wrapped up in my climax that it took me a couple of seconds to realize that Lenny had pulled his mouth off my pussy and was kneeling on the couch lining the fat head of his cock up with the swollen entrance to my pussy.

I managed to pull Dale's cock out of my mouth long enough to ask Lenny to go kind of slow at the start.

"I'm, um, kinda small, so it takes a little bit to get me opened up good," I said, breathlessly. "But once you get it in all the way, you can fuck me with everything you've got."

"You got it, honey," Lenny said. "We've done this a time or three."

To help him along, I reached down and pried open my juicy lips, widening the target, so to speak. I still had a firm grip on Dale's cock, like I didn't ever want to let it go. Then I felt the head of Lenny's cock push its way past my opening, and an electric sizzle rushed through my body as he slowly, very slowly, inched his way into my steaming box.

I still remember how he stretched my pussy wider than it had thus far been stretched. And he filled me pretty damn good too. Once Lenny got all that fat meat in my cunt, he pulled back and started a steady fuck motion, and I helped him along by wrapping my legs around his waist and working him with my hips.

At the same moment, I reached up and fed Dale's long dong back into my mouth, and let him work back and forth into my throat. I felt like I was in cock heaven as Dale and Lenny fucked me with all of the expertise they could muster.

I was still trying to recover from my earlier hard climax, and I could feel a second orgasm beginning to build as they worked me between them. They were like a well-oiled machine as they established a steady rhythm. Dale would sink his cock into my throat as Lenny would pull his cock back from deep in my pussy, then Dale would pull back while Lenny filled me to the brim with his hot rod.

"Jesus, Dale, you won't believe how tight she is," Lenny exclaimed. "Tight, sweet and wet. Just the way we like 'em."

All I could do was groan in approval around the hard cock that was pumping steadily, wetly, in my mouth.

Finally, Dale pulled his cock all the way out and I took in several heaving breaths. Seconds later, Lenny slid his cock out of my pussy, then slapped the gaping hole with the fat part of his dick several times, sending a rush of sensation through my body.


Lenny pulled me up from the couch, while Dale sat back, his huge cock pointing toward the ceiling. He held it upright as he instructed me to sit with my back to him. I pulled my feet under me, so I was squatting over his cock, then I slowly lowered myself.

This was a new position for me, but I seemed to have an instinctive feel for what to do. I took Dale's cock from his grasp, held it tightly at the base and let the head brush through my lips several times, and circled my clit with it. I moaned and gasped as I felt pleasure wash through me. Lenny just sat back and watched, slightly wide-eyed at how I was acting.

Dale was in no hurry, occupying himself by reaching around and squeezing my tits, and lightly pinching the nipples. That sent another wave of passion rolling through me, and I couldn't hold back any longer. I fit the fat head of Dale's cock to my opening and let my dripping cunt slide down his shaft.

As his cock slowly filled me, I felt my climax begin to quicken, but I was still a ways away from cumming. And if Dale and Lenny were in no hurry to cum, then neither was I. After all, we had the rest of the day and all night.

Dale's cock filled me deep, real deep, deeper even than Uncle Bill, so deep I felt the head poke at the entrance to my cervix. I felt a chill run through my body as I began to work myself up and down on that beautiful piece of cock. And I have to say, that as good as my uncle was, Dale McCain was proving to be the best fuck I'd ever had up to that point.

He rolled me around so that his cock hit every single millimeter of my insides, so that his fat shaft rubbed along the front of my clit, sending me trembling with lust. My eyes were closed in reverie as I rode Dale's cock with a slow, but steady - and very sensual - motion.

Suddenly, I felt a presence next to my face, and I opened my eyes to see Lenny's cock right at eye level. He was standing on the sofa, propped up with one knee on the back of the couch, slowly fisting his rock-hard and purple cock.

I smiled up at him as I opened my mouth and let him slip the head past my lips. I took about three-quarters of his cock in my mouth, more than enough to satisfy, then briskly worked him back and forth in my mouth.

I could actually taste my pussy on his cock, and that also sent me hurtling toward another climax. Lenny pulled his cock out of my mouth and rubbed the leaking head all over my face, smearing my make-up, but at that point I couldn't have cared less.

After getting my face all wet with the combination of his pre-cum and my saliva, he stuffed his cock back into my mouth and I resumed sucking him, eagerly.

I was hurtling into orgasmic orbit as Dale fucked my pussy from below and Lenny fucked my mouth from above. Once again, Lenny pulled his cock from my mouth, bounded off couch and strode into the bathroom. He emerged seconds later holding a tube of lubricant jelly. He waved it in the air like it was a prize of some sort, and I felt my insides convulse. I knew what was next, and I was ready for it.

I pulled myself off Dale's cock, and knelt on the floor between his outstretched legs. I licked up and down his angry red shaft, getting another good taste of my pussy. I still hadn't cum again, but I was sitting pretty close to the edge, and I was feeling really, really slutty. I sucked Dale's cock into my mouth as deep as I could, then groaned heavily as I felt Lenny smear a good bit of jelly around my anus and slowly push two fingers in.

"You want to feel Lenny's big fat cock up your ass, don't you, Sophie," he whispered in my ear as he finger-fucked my ass. "You like a big cock in your tiny ass, huh?"

"Ummmmm, yeah, I love it," I panted, as I pulled Dale's cock from my mouth. "I want to feel your fat dick in my butt. Oh yeah. I love a big cock in my ass."

"Well, here you go, then," Lenny said through clenched teeth. They both had shown remarkable control, but I could tell Lenny was starting to lose his.

I let my whole body relax, the way Uncle Bill had taught me. I felt the fat head of Lenny's cock pushing at my tight ring, and I clenched my eyes shut, willing myself not to tense up.

Suddenly, I felt the head pop past my sphincter, and I cried out in that weird combination of pain and pleasure that always accompanied the initial insertion of a foreign object in my ass. But the pain quickly subsided and I felt tremendous waves of pleasure wracking my body as he pushed his cock in my ass.

When he got it in all the way, I simply went haywire.

"OH YEEEEEEAAAAAH!" I screamed. "FUCK MY ASS, BABY, FUCK IT GOOOOOOOOD!"

Lenny hadn't gotten more than three or four strokes into it before I felt my whole body explode with a full-blown orgasm. I shook like a leaf and I wailed like a banshee as the climax roared through me. And the whole time, Lenny fucked my ass like a machine, and I fucked him back just as hard.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 04



Then I felt a hand on the back of my head and Dale's cock slid back into my mouth. I sucked his dick right back into my mouth with a frenzy of lust. I wanted to be consumed by these two men, utterly and completely. I sucked Dale's cock as hard and as fast as I possibly could, and I threw my ass back to get as much of Lenny's dick in my butt as he could cram in there.

In some remote conscious corner of my mind, I heard the words, "sex machine," run through my head. I thought that was pretty apt. I was indeed a sex machine, a true slut, and at that moment that's all I ever wanted to be.

I was getting close to yet another orgasm, but before it could fire off, Lenny pulled his cock from my ass. I groaned in frustration, both from being so close to another climax and from the yawning emptiness in my ass. But I wasn't empty long.

Lenny came around and lay down on his back, his fat, greasy cock sticking up hard and high. I knew exactly what to do from the movie Bill and I had watched the night before. I straddled Lenny's hips and slid his cock up my flooded cunt, so that I was riding him like some deranged cowboy.

I pulled my butt cheeks open, giving Dale a nice wide target to fuck his big, long cock into my ass. I was approaching a state of delirium I don't think I'd ever reached, and I wanted this as much as anything I'd ever felt in my life.

"Oh, Gawd!" I squealed. "Fuck... me... both. Same... time."

Dale just grunted and pushed his cock to the well-cored opening to my ass. Unlike with Lenny, there was no hesitation, no pain, and no difficulty. Dale's cock slid right up my back alley like he was on the expressway, and I felt the ungodly feeling of a cock in my cunt and a cock in my ass for the first time ever.

If there has ever been one act I've missed more than any other since I went straight, it is a double-penetration. God, the feeling! To me, nothing ever quite approached the absolute thrill of being so totally filled, especially with such nice big cocks.

In fact, that's one of the things that scares me most, the fact that I miss that feeling. That's one thing I've never told Ron about, because I'm not sure how he would handle the idea of me giving myself to two or more men at the same time.

You'll have to excuse me, but remembering that first time still gets me hot and wet. Just a few seconds after Dale got his cock in my ass and they both started working me between them, my insides exploded in a white-hot orgasm that left my mind completely blown.

I wanted them to fuck me like that forever, to use my holes for their pleasure until the end of time. I just wanted it to go on and on and on.

Even then, after all of that, Dale and Lenny still managed to maintain a measure of control, working in tandem, in rhythm, giving me pleasure supreme. Again, I felt the flash of another orgasm, and my body writhed out of control.

And now I could feel the twitching signs that Dale and Lenny were getting close. Their thrusts became more urgent, more frantic, and their groans of lust became more pronounced. And I was screaming, grunting, wailing, laughing insanely, and just generally going wild.

As I felt another orgasm come to a head, I felt myself being worked harder and faster, and I vaguely heard someone cry out, "I'mmm cummmming!"

A volcano of lust exploded through my body as the hardest orgasm yet blew through me, and at that moment, I felt Dale's cock swell and spew jet after jet of hot, thick cum deep in my bowels. And he wasn't half finished before Lenny arched his back and shot an equally hard, thick load of cum deep up my pussy.

The three of us thrashed and groaned on the floor as our mutual climax swept through us. I was covered in sweat as I finally collapsed onto Lenny's broad chest, and I felt his arms envelope me. I had never felt so completely and thoroughly satisfied in my young life, and I still recall that afternoon as one of the best sexual experiences of my life.

After we extricated ourselves from each other, I pulled the rest of my clothes off, my shoes, my stockings and my garter belt. Then the three of us went out to the swimming pool Dale had in his back yard and took a nice leisurely dip.

Since he lived in the country, Dale didn't see the need for a privacy fence, and I got a big charge out of walking around the pool naked, knowing that anyone might come up and see me.

After our swim, Dale and Lenny covered my body with tanning oil, then they each fucked me one after the other. That was a really cool, oily fuck session that gave me some ideas that I'd use later on.

After that, we swam some more, then Dale grilled some steaks and we ate on the patio as the sun went down. Then we went back inside and fucked some more. I have to tell you those two men took me to places I'd never dreamed possible.

By the time I left there the next afternoon, I was sore all over, especially my extremely well fucked pussy and ass, but I was very well satisfied. And I drove home in my new car, which would be my lifeline to the outside world for the next four years.

Everything was now in place, and I was ready to start making a living as a sex machine.



Me and My Uncle Ch. 05



It didn't take long for word to spread about my sexual talents, and my availability for a fair sum of money.

I made the rounds with Uncle Bill's friends, usually fucking them gratis the first time, to establish in their minds just what I could do. After they had me once, they always came back for more, but for a price.

Like I've said, I was good. I loved sex, and I didn't mind being known as a whore, at least not initially. Somehow, in my mind, I believed it was what I'd always been. I was just being honest about it now, rather than denying it, and getting paid for it, to boot.

By the time I graduated from high school, Uncle Bill's new bar was just about completed, and over the next few weeks, we established our routine and started building up our clientele.

The location helped us. In this part of the country, there are no strip joints, no such thing as escort services, nor are there any real prostitutes readily available.

So when word got around that a young, good-looking girl who loved to fuck was available for a reasonable price in the middle of nowhere, men started coming from all over the place to see me.

Bill and I quickly established a fee structure, and we never deviated from it. Twenty bucks got you a handjob, and it was $50 for a blowjob, $60 if you wanted to cum on my face. Straight sex went for $100, and it was $200 for anal.

During the summer, I got Sunday nights and Mondays off. During the school year, I took off those two days and Tuesdays. I was expected to get any serious studying done on those nights, freeing me up to work the other four nights.

I usually started around 6 p.m., after the store closed. I'd work the bar, done up in one of my whore dresses, making the rounds for an hour or so, letting the customers get a good look at what I had to offer.

When we had a half-dozen or so lined up, I'd take them upstairs, one after the other, and start working them, giving them whatever they wanted. No money changed hands until after they got upstairs, and they had put in their order.

We set a half-hour limit on each encounter. I figured that if you couldn't cum in that space of time, you had more problems than I could fix. I usually got 10-15 minutes between clients to give myself a chance to clean up a little bit, either a quick shower or a douche.

Saturdays were often a little different. After awhile, Bill started selling me to clients for special occasions. For $1,000, you could buy my services for the whole day and night to do just about anything you wanted.

For the most part, these were clients who didn't want to be seen at Bill's Place, men, women or couples who would have had a lot to lose if it got out that they were partaking of a prostitute's services.

Of course, there were others who liked to role-play, men who got off on the idea of fucking a girl who looked underage. They could have the fantasy of sex with a girl who appeared to be very young and virginal, without breaking the law.

That was a part I could play easily. For a long time, I could pass for a 15-year-old, until I was older, and the psychic and emotional weight of what I was doing began to show on my face.

There was an element that was missing, however, and that led to the first really intense night of my new career.

Uncle Bill and I had talked about how long it would be before the sheriff's department started sniffing around, and how we would react when it did. This was not the problem it would have been in some other jurisdiction. Or, rather, it wasn't the same problem it might have been somewhere else.

During the whole time I lived in that part of Missouri, the county was under the firm control of the sheriff, Charles Henning. By 1988, he'd been the sheriff there for 14 years, and his control was total.

Mr. Charley, as everyone called him, was an average-sized, pleasant-looking man in his mid-50s. He was soft-spoken and quite gentlemanly - until you crossed him.

Behind that pleasant exterior was a man who kept the whole county under his thumb. Nothing went on in that county that he didn't know about, and there were whispers of kickbacks and payoffs for protection, and worse. Some girls at school told stories of being stopped on county roads and being forced to have sex with deputies.

My Uncle Bill, however, was convinced that we could do business with Mr. Charley. He believed that if they came around, we should be ready to pay them off in some way. As it turned out, I was the one who provided the payoff, and it was some kind of experience.

It happened on a Monday night in mid-July, when the bar was closed and Uncle Bill had gone to Kansas City for some supplies.

It was about 8:30, and I was reading a book in the den. I heard a knock on the door, and nearly jumped out of my skin. I have to say that I was afraid. All sorts of thoughts crossed my mind as I slowly walked to the door. I mean, that place was pretty isolated, and I wasn't expecting anyone to come by.

I looked out the window, and my blood ran cold. There was a man in the uniform of the sheriff's department standing by the door. I vaguely recognized him as one of the deputies who sometimes came around for coffee in the morning. I opened the door, hesitantly, but refused to open the chain.

"Y-y-yes, what can I do for you, officer?" I said nervously through the cracked door. He was a tallish man, with dark hair that was slightly receding from his forehead, a dark moustache and sideburns.

"Sophie Trotter?" he said in a flat voice. I answered yes, and he continued. "I'm Bob Wilson from the sheriff's department, and I've been ordered to bring you in for questioning about the business y'all have going on out here."

Although his voice was a monotone, he had such an obvious leer on his face that I knew something was up.

"Now?" I asked, still a little fearful.

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "Sheriff's orders."

"Am I under arrest?" I said.

"Not if you cooperate," the deputy said, with just a trace of menace in his voice. I felt a trickle of fear run up my spine at the way he emphasized the word, "cooperate." I knew exactly what that meant. But I also knew I was helpless, so I had to go with him.

"Let me slip some shoes on," I said. "I'll be right out."

I slipped on a pair of sandals, grabbed my keys and my purse, turned out the lights, locked the apartment and left with the deputy.

Deputy Wilson opened the passenger's side door to let me in, then he climbed in, but made no move to drive anywhere. He looked over at me with this sickening grin, and reached for me.

"Like I said, you've got to cooperate," he said. "So what are you waiting for?"

"What do you want?" I asked in a trembling voice.

"Suck my dick," he said roughly. I gazed into his lap and saw that his hard-on was already making a bulge of his uniform pants.

I reached down, unzipped his pants and his cock sprang out like a jack-in-the-box, hard and an angry red color. I bent my head into his lap, slid the head of his dick between my lips and began to suck the hard flesh.

He wasn't real big, but he wasn't a pee-wee, either, probably 5-5 1/2 inches and fairly fat. I gave him my very best blowjob, licking all around the shaft as I worked, hoping that was all that would be required. But in the next moments, the deputy laid those hopes to rest.

"A couple of us have to stay out on patrol," Wilson said, panting as I worked my mouth up and down on his cock. "So we can't join in the party we've got planned for you back at the office. So this is my reward for bringing you in."

My blood ran cold at that, but I also felt a quick flash of heat between my legs. I was a little bewildered at that reaction, but I guess I knew in my subconscious that I was about to get supremely fucked, that I didn't have any choice in the matter and that I might as well get ready to enjoy it.

Just then, the radio crackled.

"Unit 15, come in," the dispatcher said. "What is your 10-20?"

"I'm at the subject's location," Deputy Wilson said into the mike.

"And is the subject ... cooperating?" the voice from the radio asked.

"Oh yeah, she's cooperating quite nicely," Wilson said. I had stopped working his cock momentarily, fascinated by this exchange. "Don't stop, honey, keep right on cooperating."

He cackled then, and put a hand to the back of my head and began to work me hard up and down on his cock. I could feel the telltale twitter in his cock that told me he was close, and I redoubled my efforts, in order to get him off as quickly as I could.

Those efforts were quickly rewarded, as I heard him gasp, and his hips thrust upward hard, seconds before his cock exploded in my mouth. He filled my mouth with a goodly amount of hot, thick cum, which I swallowed expertly. I kept my lips pursed around the base of his cock and milked him of every bit of his cum.

When I released his cock, and it flopped limp between his legs, I smacked my lips to make it seem like his cum was ambrosia. In reality, the nature of this encounter had been disgusting and fearsome, but the deputy didn't need to know that.

Wilson pushed his cock back into his pants, zipped himself up, turned the ignition, and we headed off toward town.

"You are a good little whore, aren't you," he said with a tone of disdain, and I felt a hot flash of anger.

"Was that cooperation enough for you?" I said, with more sarcasm than I intended. He immediately pulled the patrol car to the shoulder of the road and stopped. He looked at me angrily, and I shrunk back toward the door in fear.

"Listen to me, you little slut," he said forcefully. "We're not going to put up with any attitude from you tonight. Unless you want me to strip you down right now, handcuff you and throw you in the jail with the drunks, the dykes and the dopers, you'd better keep a civil tongue in your head. Do you understand me?"

"Y-y-y-yes s-s-s-sir," I said, trembling. He genuinely frightened me, and I had to wonder just what exactly was in store for me that night.

We arrived in town, and drove to the sheriff's office, which was located in an annex behind the old courthouse. We parked in front, and got out.

Wilson took my arm and led me into the office, and I noticed there was an unusually large number of deputies hanging around, about seven or eight. They all looked at me with undisguised lust in their eyes, and I had a feeling building about what they had in mind.

But he led me down the hall, to the door at the end, which had the sheriff's name on it. Now I was really scared, because it appeared that I was being brought before Mr. Charley himself. Sure enough, Wilson knocked on the door, and a soft voice told us to come in.

Mr. Charley's office was surprisingly spare for someone in his position. There were a few of his degrees on the wall, a couple of commendations and a large framed photograph of Busch Stadium in St. Louis. But other than that, the place was sparsely furnished. I was led in, Wilson said, "here she is," turned and left the office, shutting the door behind him.

"Have a seat, young lady," Mr. Charley said in a pleasant voice, and I took a seat on a leather-bound chair next to his desk, facing him. I sat down, feeling very inadequate. I wasn't exactly dressed appropriately for a meeting with the most powerful man in the county - shorts, tank top and sandals.

He was dressed casually; khaki slacks, crisply pressed short-sleeve shirt, and he sat back in his big leather chair and just gazed at me with his sad eyes. I felt a real sense of foreboding at the way he was looking at me.

"Relax," he said finally. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Y-y-yes sir," I said. 

I was still feeling nervous, but Mr. Charley had a way of disarming your fears. He was a politician of the first order, and he knew how to make people feel comfortable in his presence - when it suited him.

"Sophie, isn't it?" he said. I nodded, and he continued, still in a pleasant tone of voice. "I've been getting some reports about some, uh, activities that are going on out at your uncle's place. What do you have to say about that?"

"W-w-what kind of activities do you mean?" I said. Mr. Charley smiled at that, but it was a pretty mirthless smile.

"Come on, Sophie, I think we all know what you're doing up in that apartment, while your uncle's tending bar," Mr. Charley said. "Word gets around this county pretty quickly, especially when a sweet-looking thing like you starts whoring for a living."

"It ... it was Uncle Bill's idea," I said. "We're trying to find a way to pay for me to go to college, and ... and h-h-he thought that would be the best and easiest way to get up the money. We're not hurting anyone."

"I'm not interested in why you're doing it," Mr. Charley said. "What's important is what you're going to do about it."

"What do you mean?" I said. He stood up then, and walked over to where I was sitting. He ran a finger along my jawline, very lightly, sending shivers up my spine.

"You're a very pretty, very sexy young woman," he said softly. I happened to glance down, and saw a fairly impressive bulge in his slacks. "I want to see if you're worth going out on a limb for. If you pass muster with me, and my men, you'll be allowed to stay in business indefinitely. If you don't..."

He didn't have to finish the statement. I knew right then that my future, and probably Uncle Bill's as well, depended on how well I fucked the sheriff and his deputies.

I should have been more nervous, but I was now on familiar ground. As far as I was concerned, the sheriff and his men were now just clients, like any other john I'd encountered. The sheriff was going to pay me for sex by providing protection, and I was going to respond just like I would for anyone else.

Of course, I didn't realize quite what that was going to involve, but I figured it was best to go with the flow, and take whatever came. At that moment, I wondered if Uncle Bill knew what was going on, whether he'd actually set it up.

Well, it didn't matter. It was going to happen, whether he'd known about it or not.

I stood up and drew the sheriff to me. I pulled him down and we kissed, hotly. Mr. Charley was actually a pretty nice-looking man, with a lot of charisma, and I wasn't the least bit shy about showing him how I did things.

I pressed my body to his, and made sure I worked my tongue in his mouth, like a good whore. I ground my pelvis into his groin, and felt his hard cock pressing into me.

We broke our embrace, and he just stared at me.

"Take off your clothes," he whispered. "Let's see that hot little body that everyone's been talking about."

I did as I was told, pulling off my tank top, my sandals, shorts and panties. I stood naked in front of the sheriff, and he looked me up and down.

"Kind of small, aren't you?" he said, as he filled a hand with one of my tiny tits.

"My best feature is here," I said seductively, as I took his other hand and brought it down between my legs, where my pussy was beginning to bloom with the early stages of intense arousal. "I pack a lot of wallop in this little body."

Mr. Charley's fingers slid between my bubbling lips, cruised over my clit and plunged into my pussy. He worked two fingers around in my throbbing-hot box as I pulled him down for another hot kiss.

"You are a hot one, aren't you," he said, after we'd kissed with mounting urgency for a minute or two.

"I'm the best," I whispered back to him.

"Let's find out, shall we?" he said.

Suddenly, Mr. Charley turned me around and leaned me over his desk. I heard his zipper open, then felt the head of his cock sluicing through my drooling pussy lips. I gasped as he abruptly pushed the head of his cock slowly, but effortlessly into my cunt.


Like the deputy earlier, Mr. Charley wasn't real big, but he was long enough, probably 6-7 inches and thick enough to suit me. He grabbed my hips and quickly got into a steady fucking rhythm.

I could feel my rock-hard nipples sliding along the smooth surface of his wooden desk, and I groaned as feelings of intense pleasure began to mount in my hard core. I worked my hips back in tandem to his hard, steady inward thrusts.

Mr. Charley was good, very good, and he worked that cock steadily back and forth in my sizzling cunt, and I grunted and groaned as he filled me with every stroke.

I picked up my right leg and draped it on the desk, opening myself up a little more to his in-and-out motions. I gripped the desk and clenched my eyes shut as a really nice orgasm began to come to a peak.

I was gasping and moaning, and I could hear the sheriff grunting hard as his motions become harder and faster. I could tell he was getting close to the nut strokes, from the nervous twitching of his cock, and I reached under my body to roll my clit around, so I could come with him.

That did the trick for me, because seconds later I felt a rush of sensation rip through my body as my climax exploded in me. I writhed and convulsed on the sheriff's desk, and the contractions in my body must have pushed Mr. Charley over the edge, because moments later, I felt his hot cum shooting deep in my spastic hole.

We gasped and groaned as we worked through our climax. Finally, Mr. Charley pulled his wilting cock from my pussy, pulled me back, I guess, so I wouldn't get cum on his desk, and staggered back to his chair.

He wasn't quite as cool and collected as he had been earlier, but he quickly recovered his composure. I was left standing there, trembling from the effects of my orgasm, with cum slowly trickling from my pussy and down the inside of my thighs.

Mr. Charley reached for the intercom, and called for someone named Caleb to come and get me. I gathered up my things, and started to get dressed, but the sheriff told me not to bother.

"You're just going to have to take them right back off again," he said, with a wicked grin as the door opened and a huge black deputy came in. "I'll see you again soon."

"Come on, Missy," said Caleb, the deputy who came to get me. He looked at me with burning eyes, and I felt a queasy feeling in my gut at the look in his eyes.

I was led naked down the hall, feeling very self-conscious, until we came to a door, labeled "Interrogation Room." We entered, and I was stunned by what I saw.

All of the deputies who had been hanging around the office were in the smallish room, and they were all naked, except for Caleb.

"Time to party!" I heard one voice say, and then I was surrounded by naked deputies.

"Look what I found!" yelled one man, who held up two slimy fingers after reaching between my legs. "Looks like the boss has been busy!"

They all laughed, then I was picked up and laid back on the table that dominated the room. I barely had time to put my purse and my clothes on a chair before the gangbang commenced.

I should point out that up until that moment, my only previous encounter with multiples had been several threesomes. I had not yet been the center of a true gangbang, and that's what this was.

Like every other significant sexual encounter in my life, going back to Schultzie, I remember just about every little detail of that night. I've always had that ability. I have almost a photographic memory for really important things, key moments. It's one reason I succeeded in school, and a reason why I've been successful at my job.

I could listen to a lecture, or I can work a program, and remember virtually everything that was said and done.

And I sure do remember that night at the sheriff's office, remember it like it was yesterday. I felt hands all over my body, smearing cum all over the insides of my legs, all over my abdomen, squeezing my tits and pinching my nipples.

I managed to look down, and an older man, a rather portly fellow with a stubby cock, walked up between my legs and slid his dick right up my dripping wet cunt. At the time, I didn't know any of these men by name, but I would subsequently come to know them all quite well.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 05



The old fellow with the short, stubby dick was Joe, Joe the Jailer, and he had this excited look on his face like he hadn't been laid in awhile. I worked my hips around to try to get more cock in me, but that was all there was, about 4-5 inches of meat that was, nonetheless, fairly thick.

By the time he got going good, naked men surrounded me. My head was turned to the right and a pretty big dick was pushed past my lips, and my hands were filled with a pair of cocks.

My gut feeling about Joe was confirmed after just a few minutes when he gasped loudly and shot a rather intense load of cum into my cunt. Poor man had been so excited that he hadn't lasted long.

But if he was disappointed, he sure didn't show it. I happened to glance his way as he walked out of the room after getting dressed, and he had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. Somehow that made me feel good.

Next up was Bradley Falls. He was a little younger, in his early 40s, a tallish guy with short-cropped blond hair. He looked like your typical cop, and he fucked like one. He was all business. He had a nice-sized cock of around 6-7 inches and quite thick, and he knew how to take his time.

He slid his cock right up my flooded canal and started fucking me slowly, working methodically back and forth in my pussy. As he fucked me, I could feel another hard climax beginning to build up steam, and I wrapped my legs around his back and fucked him with as much intensity as I could manage.

By now, the crowd had pulled back to allow Bradley room to really give it to me. They were standing around the table, slowly stroking their cocks as they waited their turn. I felt a sizzle of lust at the realization that they were all going to fuck me, one right after the other.

I could see Bradley was starting to strain a little bit harder, and I could feel his cock working harder and faster. I reached down with one hand and began to roll my throbbing, bloated clit with two fingers, working it in rhythm with the steady in-and-out motion of Bradley's dick.

I was getting closer, closer, closer, and my squeals and moans filled the room, along with the pants and grunts from Bradley.

Just about the time I felt the electric crackle of my orgasm reaching its peak, Bradley pushed really hard about a half-dozen strokes, then exploded his hot, creamy cum deep in my pussy. I trembled and shook as I climaxed, and Bradley twitched and jerked as he sprayed my insides with his hard load.

It seemed like I was seeing things through a haze, as Bradley disconnected himself from my cunt.

"Whew!" he exclaimed. "Man, that's some kind of hot pussy right there."

Everyone laughed, except for the next guy to take position between my legs. George Lazare was a little older than Bradley, probably pushing 50. He was an intense-looking man with dark features, dark hair flecked with gray, and he wasn't real big. But he was muscular, and his cock was fat, though not as long as Bradley's.

He looked down at me with almost a look of contempt, and I shuddered in spite of myself.

"So you're a hot little whore, are you?" he said. "Tell me, how hot are you?"

"I'm the hottest piece of ass you'll ever sink your dick into," I said, as I leaned up on my elbows and met his gaze head-on. I had made up my mind that I wasn't going to let any of these men intimidate me, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let George Lazare bully me.

"Let's see about that," he said sharply, and the guys who were watching gave out a few whoops and hollers. George got up on the little footstool that they were using for leverage, grabbed me by my ankles with one hand, bent my legs back and pushed his fat dong into me with his other.

As soon as he filled me to the brim, he released my ankles, grabbed my knees, opened my legs wide, pushed my legs back and proceeded to drill his cock in me with a barely controlled fury.

But instead of making me fearful, his wild fucking sent me completely over the edge. I stared into his eyes and worked my hips around and around, and up and down. I was giving him back everything he was giving me, and I let him know he wasn't going to break me that way.

"Come on, you cop bastard, fuck me hard," I snarled loudly. "Give me everything you've got. C'mon, man, make me cummmmmmm! If you can."

George's face turned red, and he redoubled his efforts, pounding my pussy hard and fast. And, God, did it feel good. I could feel yet another orgasm quickly reaching firing stage, and even as the thought rolled through my mind, I felt my body come unglued, and I shook with one of the more intense orgasms I ever remember having.

I thrashed on that hard table like I was possessed, spewing out all manner of curses, urging George to fuck me harder, harder, HARDER!

And he did, until he abruptly shot off a spastic series of cumshots deep in my pussy. I milked him of every bit of his cum, but he wasn't quite done. He kept humping, even though he'd already exploded his initial rush.

Lo and behold, he managed to squeeze out another, weaker set of cumshots, cum balls, really. Then he slumped forward, all of the venom apparently having been lanced from his body, via his dick. His cock oozed out of my distended cunt, and he slowly pulled himself up, looking down at me with something like a newfound respect.

But if George was drained, I wasn't. I was in something like a fuck delirium, and when the next guy in line, a young deputy named Dusty, said something about, "trying out this slut's ass," I felt another jolt of pleasure race through my body.

Dusty was in his late 20s, and very good-looking. He was a shade under six feet tall, with sandy-brown hair, a big smile and a fairly big dick.

"You do take it up the ass, don't you?" he said. I just looked down at him with lust-lidded eyes and nodded my head forcefully. I was just about beyond the point of verbal communication at that point.

But he got the message pretty loud and clear when I opened my legs wide and lifted them up as high as they could go.

Dusty didn't mess around, and, fortunately, my asshole was covered with a generous amount of cum that had flowed out of my pussy, so I was pretty well lubricated. And by this time, I'd taken enough cocks up my ass that I didn't need much preparation.

It was a good thing, too, because Dusty simply lined the head of his cock up to my anus and slid right on in. I howled in a combination of pain and pleasure, but the pain quickly morphed into pure unadulterated lust.

I briefly found my voice and croaked for Dusty to, "fuck my assssss! OH YAY-YAH! Fuck meeeee!"

Dusty leaned way in, bending me almost in half as he began to work his nice-sized dick steadily in my ass. I could feel myself hitting a major plateau of lust, with my body shivering and shaking from waves of sensation that ripped through me.

Just then I spied two deputies climbing up on the table, and I felt a real sizzle go through me, because these guys were pretty big, bigger than any of the men I'd taken so far.

Andrew Cummings was a big redheaded fellow with a big fat cock, probably slightly bigger than Uncle Bill's. Tom Berry was taller and leaner than Andrew, and his uncircumcised cock was even longer than Andrew's was or Bill's, though not as fat.

They both rubbed the leaking heads of their cocks all over my face and I reached up to try to get one or the other of them in my mouth. I wanted to taste cock right then like you wouldn't believe. I worked both heads into my mouth, stretching my lips wide open, then went frantically from one to the other.

I thought maybe they'd cum in my mouth or on my face, but they pulled back and laughed.

"We got plenty of time yet," Andrew said.

Dusty was starting to hump my ass hard, and I could feel myself being swept along on a climactic tide. I was so into what I was doing that I didn't hear the door to the room open and shut, but I did hear the reaction of the gathered group.

"Alll riiiiiight!" I heard one voice say.

"Now we're gonna see some REAL fucking," another said.

I couldn't see over Dusty, who had me pinned back fucking my ass frantically, and as I watched, I felt his cock swell in my butt and his hot, thick cum filled my bowels to overflowing. He shot a really hard cum wad, then pulled his still semi-hard cock out, stood up and stared as the cum oozed from my gaping hole.

"Will you look at that?" someone said, but I couldn't tell who. I was in a slight daze from everything that had happened already. But that was all a prelude to what was next.

Suddenly, I came to slightly to see a massive black man standing between my widespread legs. It was Caleb, the quiet deputy who had fetched me from Mr. Charley's office. My eyes got wide, as I looked him up and down.

He was huge, physically, but I knew that already. He stood about 6-foot-4 and weighed about 290 pounds, I'd guess. But what riveted my attention was the club he hefted from between his legs. As an astonished look passed over my face, everyone broke out in peals of laughter and rude comments

You hear a lot and read a lot of stories about guys with 11-inch, 12-inch, 13-inch cocks, etc. And most of them are fairy tales. Well I'm here to tell you that Caleb Binion had a legitimate 10 1/2-inch dick. I know, because I measured it one time, months later when he was paying me a visit.

And it wasn't just long, it was fat, with a head the size and color of a plum. Strangely, he was the only one who wasn't laughing at my apparent distress. He had a real serious - almost sad - look on his face, like he wasn't sure he wanted to be there.

"You gotta understand, missy," he said softly, hesitantly. "I don't get many chances to fuck. Women take one look at this, and they go running. I don't wanna hurt you."

"Oh come on, Caleb," went the general shout, and I actually felt sorry for the man. He was obviously horny as hell from watching the proceedings, probably not getting laid much, but he seemed genuinely concerned about hurting me.

And I was concerned, too. I just didn't think there was any way he was ever going to get that monster in my pussy. But I made up my mind that I was going to try. Because, let me tell you, Caleb had the juiciest hunk of male meat I've ever seen. Ever. Yeah, it was big, but it was beautiful, and I was going to do everything I could to let Caleb fuck me.

"OK! Shut up! All of you. Just leave him alone," I said loudly, and believe it or not, they did. Then I spoke softly to Caleb.

"Just take it nice and real slow, honey," I said. "The hard part's gonna be that head. If you can get that in me, I think you'll be able to get most of the rest of it in. C'mon, baby, just relax and come to mama."

I still can't believe I said that, but that's how I felt. Even though he was a grown man, and I was a girl barely turned 18, I felt something like a maternal instinct where Caleb was concerned. I wanted him to know that he could come to me any time, and I'd give him the best that I could.

It took him the better part of five minutes, working the head around in my opening. It got to the point where I wasn't sure I could do it. But finally, I got myself opened up enough that his fat head slipped into my vagina.

Something happened to me then, and I felt like the biggest whore who ever walked the face of the earth. When that plum-sized head finally got in my cunt, and Caleb started pushing his massive meat slowly into my pussy, I completely lost touch with reality.

I screamed, I gasped, I moaned and I cursed, as Caleb began to work his cock slowly back and forth in my wet, gaping hole. Sure, it hurt like hell, but strangely, the pain seemed to fuel my insane lust. I wrapped my arms and legs around his massive black frame and screamed for him to fuck me until I was nothing but a limp dishrag.

And that is exactly what he did. Having given birth to two babies, I definitely recall now that Caleb's cock felt like childbirth in reverse. But once he got his cock in me, and once my juices and the cum that had filled me earlier got him lubricated, it was like nothing I'd ever felt, before or since.

He was simply too long to take all of his length, but I managed to get most of it in me, and my God, the feeling of his huge meat sliding back and forth in me was absolutely unbelievable. 

Sweat covered my body as I hung onto Caleb's massive frame while he picked up steam in my ever-loosening cunt. He actually picked me up and cradled me as I fucked myself up and down on his hard black pole.

Sparks like fireworks exploded in my brain as one orgasm segued straight into another. I managed to glance around the room wildly, and the looks on the faces of the other men in the room was priceless. They were awestruck, not only by the power of Caleb's fucking, but my reaction.

I was squealing, moaning, gasping, going through the whole symphony of sex sounds, and Caleb was right there with me, spewing some black gibberish that nobody could understand, but could easily be translated as sounds of passion.

Caleb was like a rock, but he couldn't fuck like that forever, so he finally laid me back down on the table and jackhammered my pussy hard for maybe 30 seconds, until he cried out sharply and exploded with a gargantuan load of cum.

It felt like a firehose had been shoved up my pussy, it was that powerful and that copious. Cum bubbled out from around his pistoning cock over my asshole and onto the table as he kept hosing my insides with his hot, think spunk. As he came, I felt an especially hard climax wrack my body, and I momentarily passed out.

I came to seconds later, as concerned faces encircled me. I smiled wanly, and the crowd burst into a cacophony of sound, whoops and hollers. Caleb slowly pulled his still-impressive meat from my cunt, and it made a loud sucking sound as it vacated my pussy - my pussy which was gaping open obscenely and gushing a river of semen.

"Damn, Caleb, looks like you 'bout wrecked that pussy," one voice said. Caleb just kind of grunted as he backed away and sat down on a chair to watch the rest of the proceedings.

I saw Andrew walk up between my legs, and run his hands over my gaping crotch.

"I'd say her pussy's about used up, but that ass still looks pretty good," he said with a grin. 

I didn't care at that point. Caleb had just about taken everything out of me, so I pretty much just laid there as Andrew slid his large cock up my ass, which was still slick from when Dusty had filled it with his hard load, and from the cum that Caleb had deposited in my cunt.

It felt good, but I was through cumming at that point. I worked my hands around some of the cocks that had come in me earlier and were back up hard again. Brad Falls brought his cock up for me to lick and suck, and I tried to do the best that I could, but I was getting tired.

Nevertheless, Andrew fucked my ass long and hard, and I did feel some smoldering sparks of sensation as he stiffened real tight and filled my ass with his hard cumload.

I looked up and saw Bradley fisting his cock furiously, then he stuck the head in my mouth a split-second before he spurted a nice wet load of cum into my throat, which I swallowed completely.

That left Tom Berry, and as soon as Andrew backed away, Tom was right between my legs. He shoved his nice big cock up my flooded ass, wrapped my ankles around his neck and proceeded to fuck my ass hard and fast. Apparently, he'd been waiting and watching for awhile, because he was on a short trigger.

Even before he got going good, there was a sharp knock at the door. That was apparently the cue to wrap things up, because all the men who were left in the room began to drift off to various parts of the room, and began to pull their clothes back on. I noticed this only out of the side of my vision, because I was too wrapped up in trying to coax one more climax out of the night.

Tom wasn't wasting any time. He fucked me like a runaway locomotive for several minutes, then fired his hard cum deep in my ass. He grunted hard several times as he shot a half-dozen crisp wet bolts up my ass. I felt a small mini-orgasm ripple through me, and I must have passed out again, because the next thing I knew, I was lying on the table undisturbed, and the room was empty.

Except for Caleb, that is. He just looked over at me with the weirdest expression. He was fully dressed, in his uniform, with a look that was equal parts lust, pity and concern. When he saw that I was conscious, he stood up, walked over to where I'd laid my things, picked them up and handed them to me.

"You OK, missy?" he asked. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but, well, I never had anyone treat me quite like you, and ... I don't know, I kinda let myself go."

I had to chuckle at the way he talked. I sat up on the table, reached over and pulled him to me and gave him a warm kiss.

"You were great," I said. "Yeah, it hurt a little, but it was a good kind of hurt. Really made me come. You can stop by the store any time I'm there, and I'll take real good care of you. I promise. Look, can I get a towel or something to clean up with a little bit. I'm, uh, kind of messy."

Caleb left the room momentarily, then returned with a small towel, and I sort dabbed at my cum-filled holes, trying to soak up as much of the slimy stuff as I could before I dressed. I got a lot of their cum cleaned up, but not all of it, and all the way home, I felt really squishy between my legs.

After I had cleaned up some, I slipped my clothes on, what there were of them. My panties seemed to have disappeared, gone, undoubtedly, as some kind of trophy.

Caleb drove me home in his patrol car, and we didn't have much to say. I was exhausted, and sore all over, especially between my legs. But I felt pretty confident that Bill and I wouldn't have any more trouble from the sheriff's department.

Over the next four years, I serviced the sheriff and all of his deputies on a fairly regular basis, and Uncle Bill also paid a nominal amount of cash to Mr. Charley each month for protection.

Of all of the deputies, the only one I came to like was Caleb. He was a sweet man who was much smarter than he initially appeared. He'd come around, and most of the time all he wanted was a hand job or maybe a little suck, and we'd talk.

And he took care of me, too, both in the bedroom and around the county. The man could eat pussy like nobody's business, he was a tremendous fuck, and if some of the deputies started playing a little rough with me, he'd show them the error of their ways right quick.

Sadly, he was on a patrol late on an icy Saturday night in February of 1991, when his car was hit head-on by a drunk driver, and he was killed. I cried like a baby for three days after I heard the news, and that incident is really where I mark the beginning of the end for my life in Missouri.

As long as I had Caleb as my friend, I had a measure of protection from the predators, both in the sheriff's department and in the world that Uncle Bill was running in more and more. Once Caleb was gone, I lost that security, and things started going downhill.

But that was still a good bit into the future, and there were fun and games yet to be enjoyed before I reached that point. 



Me and My Uncle Ch. 06



My freshman year at the University of Missouri passed pretty uneventfully.

I kept a low profile, studied hard and made good grades. I played the part of the shy country girl on campus while I got acclimated to a whole new world.

I honestly hate to say this, but if I had been thrown into that situation cold, without the weeks I spent working as my uncle's whore that summer, I'm not sure I would have survived.

I was so naive and in need of guidance at that point in my life, that I probably would have fallen into the clutches of someone (anyone), and I doubt that it would have been very pleasant.

But after a couple of months of negotiating the pitfalls of life as a whore, under my uncle's tutelage, I had developed some street smarts, and some much-needed self-confidence. I know, that's a pretty brutal way to obtain those kinds of life skills, and I wish now that I had chosen another way.

Nevertheless, that's the way I did it, there's no going back and doing it over, and it did force me to learn how to swim with the sharks pretty quickly.

I took the basic general studies courses that first year, because I really didn't know what I wanted to do. I knew I had an aptitude for math, though, and by the end of my second semester, I had about decided that computer sciences were where the future was.

I also discovered that I had a little bit of artistic ability. I wasn't much with my hands, but on the computer, I found that I could be quite creative.

Along the way, I solidified my new identity as Lyn Gibson. That was tough in spots, and weird, too. I had to learn how to sign my name all over again, and I often found myself not responding when someone spoke to me.

However, I established my official address as a post office box in Columbia, and after that nothing that could tie me to Lyn Gibson ever came to the store, nor did anything that could tie me to Sophie Trotter ever come to the box.

The one dicey part was showing Uncle Bill my grades, and at first he did insist on seeing them. Fortunately, I was able to obscure the name on the grade reports when I showed them to him, then I never left them lying around where he could see them.

It really is amazing that I pulled it off, but Uncle Bill was so self-absorbed, so wrapped up in his own little world that he never really caught on. Plus, I think he figured I wasn't that clever - or devious - to think up something like that. I don't think it even occurred to him to suspect anything like that.

After all, I was his docile little pet, his fuck toy, his sex machine, his dependent little niece who would do anything he told me to do.

I quickly settled into a routine, and we started bringing in a hefty bit of cash. Bill set up an account in a Jefferson City bank where my earnings and his matching funds would go to pay for my tuition, books, fees, etc. And he paid fairly close attention to that account. He didn't want me tapping into it for just anything.

I thought that was pretty funny. We'd never had much money, and I had learned at an early age how to be frugal with what I had. I wasn't about to become a spendthrift just because I now had more money available than I'd ever had before.

Still, I insisted on getting a healthy allowance so I could buy clothes, gas and food while I was off at school.

Let me say very clearly that I earned every penny I made. If you've never fucked for a living, you may not understand how quickly you can become jaded. Most nights when I worked, I averaged about a dozen men, who wanted everything from a handjob to anal.

Once the parade started, I'd reach a point where I might climax, but more often than not, I had to fake it. I mean, it just got so monotonous.

But there were plenty of nights when something would happen that lit a spark. Sometimes it was an extra-big or extra-good cock, a few times it was another woman, and then there were the party nights.

Every so often, we'd entertain more customers than I could handle doing them one at a time. If it was starting to get late, and we still had a large crowd who wanted some of me, Uncle Bill would declare a party night, and for $60, everyone who wanted to could pile into the apartment for a full-blown orgy.

The first time it happened was on New Year's Eve my freshman year, and it was OK until I got drunk and puked all over the place. That sort of put a damper on things.

But the next time it happened was probably the best party we ever had up there, and I remember it well.

It was the Saturday before Memorial Day in 1989, and spring fever was in the air. I was out of school for the summer, and had been busy for several weeks making up for time that I'd lost when I didn't work during finals.

I believe I was at the peak of my sexual prowess at that point. I'd been at it for a year, and I had become very skilled - and very popular. I had developed a real nasty streak - nasty as in wanton - and I was giving my customers more than their money's worth.

This was the period I talked about earlier when I said I came to love the taste of cum. Truth is, during this period in my life I was a real cum junkie. I got to where I liked being sloppy with it; the more cum, the better.

I think the Cardinals were on TV that afternoon, because we had a large crowd gathering pretty early at the bar. Uncle Bill fired up his big smoker grill and cooked up a bunch of roasts, ribs and pork shoulders, and the bar just seemed to be buzzing all day.

By 5 o'clock, I had been kissed, felt up and teased by just about everyone there, and I had been teasing in turn all afternoon. We were just having a hell of a time. Finally, we just closed the store and started to get down to business.

I was feeling really wicked, so after the store was locked up, I went upstairs and put on one of my outfits. I had on a garter belt, stockings, a pair of my thong panties, one of my teeny-weeny skirts, a thin blouse, my high heels and I got myself made up pretty good.

The large crowd that had gathered in the bar whooped and whistled when I made my entrance, and I quickly got up on the bar, while someone played the jukebox. I did a really seductive dance that quickly turned into a strip show. Off came my blouse, and I played with my tits a little bit. Down went my skirt, and I stood on that bar and did the hippy shake clad only in stockings, panties and heels.

I played with my panties for bit, pulling them tight up my crotch and so forth. Everyone was chanting for me to take them off, but I laughed and said loudly that if anyone wanted to see any more of me, they'd have to come upstairs, leaving unsaid the inference that they had to pay for the privilege. And with that, I jumped off the bar and slipped out the back, before they could react.

I was really horny, and I had a gut feeling the night was going to be spectacular. And, boy, was it ever!

The first guy to come up was a young guy, a guy I vaguely recalled from school as being a year behind me. I don't recall his name, but he was fairly quiet, and I think he was there on a dare from his friends. He didn't have a lot of money on him, so he said he'd settle for a handjob.

He shucked his clothes and laid back on my bed, his half-hard cock already twitching. Now, let me tell you, when I gave out a handjob, it wasn't just three minutes of fast fisting to get a cumshot. Oh no. I'm telling you, I was the best, and my handjobs were legendary.

I slid my panties off, and knelt between the guy's legs, which were spread wide. I took a bottle of baby oil and squeezed a generous amount onto his cock, then I slowly, softly, began to rub his cock and balls, which quickly tightened up into a nice little hard-on. He wasn't real big, maybe 5 inches when fully hard, but I believe I could have cut a diamond with his cock.

I slowly began to stroke him up and down, and all the time I was giving him a sexy talk. I told him to close his eyes and imagine me riding his cock, up and down, up and down. I could see his body starting to tense up and his hips were starting to work in a fucking motion.

I got him right to the edge ... then I quit. He groaned heavily, then I started up again. I held his cock by the base and worked my fist rapidly over the crown, which brought a sharp cry of ecstasy from his throat. But I quickly settled back into a methodical rhythm until I felt him getting close, then I stopped again.

The poor kid was panting, and his whole body was red, especially his super-hard cock. This time, I went to work with purpose, stroking him briskly up and down, and he writhed on the bed as I masturbated him expertly.

"Come on, baby, that's it," I purred. "That's it, come for me. Oh yeah!"

His cum exploded out the end of his cock like one of those old films you see of an oil strike, where the stuff just spews everywhere. This kid's cum shot out all over and covered his stomach, his abdomen and my hand, which was still milking him of all of his juice.

Finally, he slumped back on the bed, well satisfied. I took a wet washcloth from the bathroom and lovingly cleaned up all of his cum, then he got dressed and I sent him on his way with a kiss to the cheek.

Next was a man I recall only as Harmon, and he paid $60 for a blowjob with a facial at the end. I could feel my pussy purring at that. I'd come to love the feeling of hot cum shooting onto my face, so I eagerly bent to the task at hand.

Harmon had a good-sized cock, maybe 6-6 1/2 inches, and moderately fat. I sucked his balls, one at a time, then both at the same time, before sliding the flat of my tongue all the way up his shaft until I was slurping at the head like it was an ice cream cone. I licked him all over until his cock was covered with saliva.

Then I opened my mouth wide and slowly sucked his cock into my mouth. I sucked about half of it in, then started with a head-bobbing motion. As I worked up and down, I sank a little bit more of his cock into my throat, until suddenly I plunged every bit of him in me.

I felt his wiry pubic hairs tickling my nose as I worked my throat on his twitching cock. When I heard a gasping groan come from Harmon's lips, I pulled my mouth all the way off, leaving ropy tendrils of saliva and pre-cum connecting us.

"You liked that, huh?" I said in my sultriest voice. 

He just nodded. I had him in the palm of my hand, and I got a big charge out of that kind of power. As much as anything else, it was the knowledge of the power of my hot pussy or my hot mouth over men that caused my work as a whore to build my self-confidence.

I think I'd always known it subconsciously, or maybe I'd projected that kind of innocent sexuality, which is why I seemed to attract men who wanted to use me, going back as far as Schultzie. But once I put it together and really understood what I had, I used it to my advantage as much as possible.

Of course, it was a dangerous game that ultimately backfired on me, but in 1989, I was reveling in my newfound power.

I slipped my mouth back onto Harmon's cock and really began to work him. I hummed, I slobbered, I slurped and, of course, I sucked. I could feel him tensing up under me, and I could feel my own arousal starting to build.

When I got paid for a blowjob and a facial, I always told the customer to warn me when he was about to shoot, and Harmon fairly croaked, "I'm cum...min'," as I felt his cock balloon in my mouth.

I pulled him out of me about a second before he shot a half-dozen really creamy cumshots all up and down my face. He laced both of my eyes, my cheeks, my hair, around my lips and down my chin.

When he was finished spurting, I slid the head back in my mouth and squeezed out the last few drops of cum from the end of his dick. Then I got up on my knees, and stared into his eyes as I slowly, sensually, scooped as much of his cum as I could from my face with my fingers, and licked them clean.

After he left, I cleaned my face just in time for the next customer, a regular named Clint. I didn't have to ask what Clint wanted, because it was the same thing every time. He wanted a blowjob and he wanted me to swallow his cum.

He was a fairly young guy, probably in his mid-30s, and nice-looking. I asked him one time why he came to me, and why he never wanted to fuck me when he did. He said his old lady (his words) was good-looking and a great fuck, but she absolutely refused to give him a blowjob. So he came to me for something he loved that he couldn't get at home. Made sense to me.

He had a decent-sized cock, nothing spectacular, and I finished him off after a really hot, sloppy blowjob.

By this time, I was really getting hot between my legs and I was in need of a cock, and my next customer more than filled the bill.

Dave was a youngish guy also, a semi-regular who came around maybe once a month. He was about 30, and a dead ringer for Steve Dallas, a character in what was at the time my favorite comic strip, the legendary Bloom County. He had the same rakish dark hair, the same slightly rumpled appearance, the same shades that he wore all the time, and he had the same problem with alcohol.

But he also had a real nice dick, probably 7-7 1/2 inches and quite thick, and he knew what to do with it. He plopped down his hundred-dollar bill, and as soon as I had it stashed away, I melted into his arms and we kissed like two lovers who hadn't seen each other in a week.

I quickly unbuttoned his white dress shirt (which was wrinkled, of course) and his slacks, slid his boxers off and we tumbled into the bed naked. He was already semi-hard, and I quickly got him up to full roar with my hands, while he slid two fingers between my bubbling pussy lips.

"Hmmmm, I see you're hot to trot tonight, my dear," he said in an ironic tone of voice. "All for me?"

"You and anyone else with the money to pay for it," I said back with a laugh. "Now are you ready to fuck me or what?"

He just growled, and rolled me onto my back. I spread my legs, took his cock in my hand and guided it to my molten pussy. I hissed in lust as his cock slid past my lips and into my steaming cunt.

"Ahhhhhh yeah!" I cried out. "Goooood dick. God, I love cock."

"You do, don't you," Dave said as he quickly got up to speed in my hot box. "I'll... bet you'd... do this... for free. Wouldn't  you."

"M-m-m-maybe," I stuttered as I worked my hips up and down to receive his inward thrusts, fucking him back every bit as hard as he was fucking me.

I could feel a really large orgasm - a real one - quickly gathering steam in my heaving body, and I worked Dave harder and faster to get him to come with me.

We were both panting and groaning as we hurtled toward the finish line, and I got there about a split-second before he did. I arched my back, cried out sharply and felt my whole body shudder as the orgasm crested in me.

And even as I hit the peak of the wave, I felt Dave tense and grunt loudly as he exploded with his hard, rocky cumshot, deep in my womb. We both twitched and groaned from the intensity of our climax.

That's when I knew it was going to be a really good night.

Dave left, and I was able to clean up quickly - just a douche - before the next guy came in, someone of around 35 that I didn't know. He was built like a bowling ball, kind of short and stocky, with very short hair that was pretty much gone gray.

His cock was also kind of short and stubby, about 4 1/2-5 inches, but fairly fat, and he was quite muscular. He wanted me on my knees to fuck me doggy-style, and I worked myself around that fat cock, while he leisurely fucked me.

It was slow going for me, and I was still a long away from cumming when he sprayed my insides with cum.

I just left his cum in me, and let it dribble slowly out of my hole. At this point, I really didn't care whether the guys got a sloppy hole or not; they'd just have to deal with it.

The next guy, however, just wanted a blowjob, and I sucked him off to a most satisfactory climax. This man's cum was especially thick and creamy, and I let it roll down my throat like it was the nectar of the gods - which, to me, it was.

As soon as my next customer walked through the door, I felt a charge go through me. It was one of Uncle Bill's old buddies, a guy named Clay, and he always wanted my ass. He was perfect for the first cock of the night back there, because he wasn't real fat, but he was long enough to really get inside me and get me all worked up.

I handed him the jelly as we climbed onto the bed, both on our knees, and I cooed as his fingers worked the lube into my asshole. I could feel another climax beginning to spark, just from anticipating a butt fuck.

Funny how that works. When I first started, I was terrified of anal sex, thought it was filthy. Now I loved it, and couldn't get it enough. Even now, when I'm really feeling frisky and want to try hard for a big climax - which I have trouble achieving these days, if you'll recall - I'll ask Ron to play with my asshole, and I've even asked him to fuck me back there, which he does, eagerly.

Clay worked his fingers in both my holes, getting my ass well-lubed and open, and fingered my already well-fucked pussy. He noticed how sticky it was with cum, and had to comment. That was my first inkling of what was in store for me that night.

"Feeling kind of hot tonight, are we?" Clay said.

"You betcha!" I exclaimed. "I'm feeling pretty good tonight."

"It's a good thing, then," Clay said. "Because there's a real crowd down there waiting their turn."

"How many?" I asked, my stomach starting to boil with a combination of anticipation and concern.

"Oh, about a coupla dozen, at least," he said.

"Well, then, I guess we'd better pick up the pace," I said, reaching back and pulling my butt cheeks open to widen his target. "Come on in here and fuck my ass, baby."

Clay did just that, pressing the spear-like head of his cock to my well-lubed asshole. I let my whole body relax, and he slid his cock past my anal ring with no trouble. As he slid his length all the way up my backside in one smooth push, I could feel myself starting to lose control.

I started moaning rhythmically, panting and shaking as my climax began to gather steam. I pushed my butt back on his steadily-pumping cock, wanting as much of him up my ass as he could get in there.

Clay gripped my hips as he worked my ass back and forth on his churning dick, and I reached under my body and began to strum my bloated clit, working myself up to a tumultuous orgasm as Clay fucked my ass hard and fast.

At last, I could feel him fuck me really hard for about a dozen strokes, and about the time I crashed into a full-body climax, I felt the warm jets of cum fill my bowels. We both jerked in time as the climax washed over us.

Finally, he disengaged himself from me, and I rolled onto my side, spread my legs and showed off my glistening holes.

"Come on back, any time," I purred. Clay said he would, and retreated for the next customer.

That was another regular, and another potentially spectacular fuck. Grant Murray had been a football star for the local high school about 10 years earlier, and he'd stayed in real good shape. He was 6-foot-3, 260 pounds, with shoulder-length brown hair, and a very nice 8-inch cock.

Grant just stared at me as I displayed myself lewdly and he quickly undressed, after dropping his hundred on the dresser. As soon as he was naked and that nice big cock was free, I crawled up on my knees, grabbed it by the base, stuffed the head in my mouth and began to suck.

"Whoa, this is a pleasant surprise," he panted.

"Just priming the pump a little," I said in a husky voice. I was sitting on Cloud 69, and I was ready to cum again.

Grant just grunted, rolled me onto my back, lined up the head of his cock with the entrance to my pussy and rammed it home. I gasped and squealed as I lifted my legs off the bed, wrapped them around his back and humped him as hard as I could.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 06



He really fucked me with hard, powerful thrusts, and I could feel my orgasm beginning to soar. Grant got up on his knees, picked me up by my waist and worked my whole tiny body around his pistoning stick. I threw my head back and howled from the sensations of lust that crackled through my body as my climax came to a head.

As my body writhed in orgasm, Grant threw me down on the bed, put my ankles on his shoulders, bent me over and rammed his cock relentlessly in my spastic cunt. It didn't take much of this before he was howling right along with me, as he spewed a really hard, thick load of cum deep in my clenching pussy.

I could actually hear his cock make a sucking sound as it vacated my gushing cunt. But before Grant left, I had one more little display for him. As his cum poured out of my distended pussy, I reached down and scooped as much as I could get to and tried my best to suck every bit of his cum into my mouth.

"God, you are in a nasty mood, aren't you," he said as he dressed.

"Man, you just don't know," I panted. "If you're up for it, come on back up later. I've got a feeling it's fixing to get funky around here."

After Grant left, I got up and walked to the refrigerator, pulled out a cold beer, popped the top and sucked down about half of it in one long guzzle. Just then the door to the apartment opened, and my next customer entered.

He was a middle-aged guy of about 45 or 50 that I'd never seen before. He also wanted some of my sloppy pussy, and he didn't care where we did it. After I took his money, he simply bent me over the kitchen table and slid an average-sized cock up me from behind.

My arousal had dissipated a bit, and I knew it was going to take a little bit to get it fired back up, so I just stood there in my high heels, leaned over the table and let the man do all the work.

When he was finished, I could feel cum sliding down the insides of my legs, and it really made me feel slutty. Just then, Uncle Bill walked in. By now, it was dark out, and I could hear the noise from the bar wafting up to the apartment. He just grinned wickedly when he saw the wild look on my face.

"You look like you're up for a party, honey," Bill said, as he unzipped his pants and flopped his big hard dick out. I walked over and kissed him ravenously.

"I'm ready for anything," I said.

"All right, how about jacking me off real quick, then we'll get the party rolling," he said, slowly stroking his meat.

I took him in hand, reached between my legs for some of the previous customer's cum and used it to lubricate Bill's dong. I was squatting in the middle of the den, my stockinged legs spread wide, and my uncle stared down at the dripping-wet cunt that I was busy fingering.

"You are a hot little whore, aren't you," he whispered. "I knew it the first time I saw you. You're a natural fuck machine."

I chose not to respond as I stroked Uncle Bill's dick hard, almost painfully, while I listened to his nonsense. And I was quickly rewarded for my work, as his body stiffened and a huge spray of cum exploded out the end of his dick. I aimed the head for my tits and covered them with his semen.

Then I stood up, rubbing the hot, sticky cream all over my breasts, concentrating my efforts on my rock-hard nipples, and stared at my uncle.

"Bring 'em on," I said. "Tell them the nastiest, cum-cravingest whore in the whole goddam state of Missouri is waiting up here, and that she'll take on all of them."

I think even my uncle was a little shook up at just how horny I was that night, because he just kind of harrumphed and headed downstairs. I just felt so dirty, so nasty, right then, like if they wanted me to be a dirty, nasty whore, then that's what I'd be.

I could smell the cum all over me, cum that was drying on my chest, cum that was sticky between my legs, cum that was still wet in my pussy and my ass.

I was standing poised by the table when three guys in their early 20s came through the door. I didn't know any of them, but they said they were from the county and worked construction. One had shoulder-length, curly blond hair and a beard, and he was kind of heavy-set. The other two had short brown hair, and were fairly slim. They were all well built, and they ogled my naked, tousled figure with unrestrained lust.

I took their money, then retired to the bedroom while they stripped. I glanced from cock to cock to cock, and I licked my lips. They were all three nice specimens, between 6 and 7 inches and thick.

I knelt in the middle of them, and grabbed hold of the first one I could reach, the blond guy, and slid the head into my mouth. I sucked him until he was fully hard, then turned to the next guy and sucked him until he was hard, then I did the same with the third guy.

I stood up then, with a cock in each hand, and asked them if they had figured out who was going where. They looked at me funny, and the shorter of the brown-haired guys spoke up.

"I thought Bert (indicating the blond guy) would go first, then me, then James," said the guy, who said his name was Marty.

"Guys, guys, guys," I said, in a slightly exasperated tone. "The reason you were all three sent up here at the same time is so you can all fuck me at the same time. I have three holes: my mouth, my cunt and my ass, and I want them all filled at once. Now, who's going where?"

They couldn't decide, so I solved the problem for them. I grabbed a deck of cards from out of the dresser drawer, had them each pull one, and the high card got whichever hole he wanted, and so on.

It turned out that James got the high card, and he wanted my ass, Bert was next and he wanted my pussy, and that left James for my mouth.

I got Bert situated on his back, then straddled his hips and slid my flooded pussy onto his rock-hard cock. I rocked up and down on his burning spear, then I felt hands on my hips. James lined his cock up to my asshole, pushed hard until the head popped past my sphincter and he slid into my already well-lubed ass.

I groaned wantonly as I felt myself being double-fucked. Then Marty leaned back against the wall, his legs spread on either side of his friend's head, his hard cock sticking straight up from his abdomen. I bent over and sucked the cock in front of me, then purred as I was filled with three cocks at once.

I don't know if Bert and James had ever done anything like this before, but they proved to be quick learners. They soon worked out a brisk rhythm in my twitching holes, and I rocked back and forth as they fucked me.

As they worked their cocks back and forth in me, I held Marty's cock and sucked him to the root. He reached around, grabbed the back of my head and worked my mouth vigorously on his churning cock.

As we worked, I vaguely heard the door to the apartment open and heard the sound of people as they started coming in. In seconds, there was a whole crowd of men at the door to my bedroom, watching in awe as this trio fucked me with their big fat cocks.

I was soaring toward another hard orgasm, my body sizzling with lust. I gave a muffled moan as the climax quickened, and my body shimmied with the sensations.

At the same moment, the three guys quickened their pace, fucking me frantically as they hurtled toward their own orgasms. Bert's big; callused hands worked my hips up and down, while James pounded my ass.

Almost simultaneously, I heard all three men grunt loudly, then I felt Bert and James explode with their steaming-hot cum. It felt like they were going to split me in two as they spewed their loads in their respective holes. Seconds later, I felt Marty's cock swell in my mouth, and I tasted his hot, tangy cum.

I milked all three cocks with my body as I trembled and shook in the aftermath of my climax. Finally, James slid his cock out of my ass, and then I climbed off Bert and stood up on wobbly legs. I was swaying with lust, ready for the next round.

But instead of taking on another group in my sweat-covered bed, I was escorted to the middle of the den, where Uncle Bill had set up his air mattress, the one he used when he went camping, and covered it with a sheet.

I was a little stunned, too, by the fact that everyone in the room, including Uncle Bill, was naked.

I have to say, the rest of the night was a cum-spewing haze, in that I don't remember who exactly did what to me. I just remember what they did, and how they did it.

One man with a very nice cock, maybe 8 inches and fat, was lying on his back on the mattress. I went to kneel over him and put his cock up my cunt, but he took me by the waist, turned me around and guided me down until the head of his cock was poking at the entrance to my ass.

I melted my cum-filled ass onto his cock, until he filled me to the hilt, then another man with a pretty long cock knelt between my legs and pushed his cock up my pussy. I was skewered between two fleshy spikes, and I could feel whatever control I may have had left slipping away.

As the two big cocks in me started working in tandem, I sensed, more than saw, two cocks appear on either side of my head. I took each one in a hand and felt my head being pulled to the left as yet another big cock was thrust into my mouth.

The cock I was sucking was pulled out after a minute or two, and the man holding it rubbed the leaking tip all over my face. I laughed dementedly at this, then turned to my right to let the other cock work in my mouth.

This one was also pretty big, and I found out the next day that Uncle Bill had restricted admission to guys with big cocks, at least 7 inches.

At that point, I really didn't care. I was getting more cock than I knew what to do with. Almost. Truth is, I was reaching that state of nirvana that I very rarely reached, a point where the orgasms seemed to flow one into the other, an incredibly high peak of ecstasy few women ever reach.

The four men who surrounded me were working my sweat-slick body like an orchestra. My head seemed to be on a swivel as it was turned from one hard, trembling cock to another. The two cocks that were fucking my pussy and my ass were like iron rods as they pistoned back and forth in me.

And I was twitching and trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm, as the climaxes wracked my body. At length, I could feel a definite quickening of the pace.

The two cocks at my mouth were working almost at the same time between my lips, when suddenly they both pulled back slightly, and I felt their hot cum splatter all over my face at the same time. I think they may have meant to aim for my mouth, which was in fact gaping open in climax, but most of the hot cream shot all over my eyes, my nose and my cheeks.

Whatever the intent, the lewd scene was too much for the two guys who had me sandwiched. They both worked me briskly, then shot their loads each up my flooded canals. Their hot, creamy cum flowed out from around their cocks as they shot bolt after bolt in my spasming holes.

I worked my spastic body around those spewing cocks to drain them of their precious cum, although I was already so full of the stuff that it flowed out of my holes and down my thighs, where it pooled on the mattress.

The man who had been on top of me pulled himself out of me, and I was rolled onto my knees, my chest heaving. I asked for and was given a beer to quench my thirst, during which time a large group of men surrounded me.

When I had finished the beer, I found myself ringed by cocks, and they were pressed up to my face and into my mouth for a quick, hot suck. After I had made the rounds, one man lay on his back, and I was pulled onto his cock. His large rod slid right up my flooded pussy with ease, then I felt another big cock enter my ass.

As they quickly got into a hard fucking rhythm, I was slightly stunned to see five more men jockeying for position around my writhing body. Three men set up shop in front of my face, and took turns pushing their cocks into my mouth, while the other two cocks were placed in my hands for me to jack off.

I was delirious in my demented lust, rolling my body around the two cocks that had me skewered, working my fists on the two cocks in my hands and filling my mouth with the three cocks in front of me.

These guys seemed to last forever, and my body was wracked with waves of sensation. I would hesitate to call them orgasms, because by this time my body was a wrung-out, smoking shell, but I could still feel little jolts that hit me every so often.

I managed to turn my cock-filled head in time to see one of the cocks I was stroking erupt all over my hand and up my arm. Moments later, one of the cocks I'd been sucking slid all the way to the hilt in my mouth and spewed cum down my throat.

I had barely swallowed all of that load when my head was turned slightly and another of those cocks shot off on my face, and I felt the guy in my left hand fire off all over my tits.

That left three guys still working. The one at my face shoved his cock roughly into my mouth, grabbed the sides of my head and began to fuck my face really hard, and the two men in my pussy and my ass followed suit, jackhammering their cocks in me with hard, fast thrusts.

Incredibly, I managed to arch my back and yet another climax spilled out, and right about that time I felt the cock in my pussy shoot off, followed seconds later by the one in my ass and then the last man came down my throat.

That's about the last thing I remember clearly from that night. I vaguely recall Uncle Bill getting under me and sliding his cock up my gushing gash, while one of his buddies took my ass and another one fucked my mouth.

When they finished with me, I was rolled over and some man pushed his cock up my ass while another fucked my cunt, but that's all I remember about that.

I dimly recall that I was placed on my knees, with a pillow under my stomach to hold my hips up, and a man pushed his cock in my pussy from behind, then another one followed suit, and a third man fucked my ass.

That's about the point where I passed out, but I think the parade continued for a little while longer. By that time, I don't think anyone minded sticking their cocks in a flooded, comatose girl. I was just a cum bucket for some of those guys, a convenient receptacle for their sperm.

When I finally woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the window, and I felt like I had been run through the washing machine. There were empty and half-filled beer bottles and cans strewn all around, the ashtrays were overflowing with butts, and the smell of stale beer, cigarettes and semen filled the den.

I could hear Uncle Bill in the bedroom snoring, so I knew it wasn't too late. I tried to move, and my aching body screamed out in protest. I was covered in dried, sticky cum, and my pussy and ass - my sore, red and gaping-open pussy and ass - were still oozing wet semen that had been deposited there the night before.

I had dried cum on my face, dried cum on my hands and on my arms, and my hair was stiff from where cum had landed or where I had wiped it from my face. My lips were puffy and red from having sucked so many cocks, I had hickeys everywhere, and I had bruises coming up on my torso from where I had been manhandled.

I finally managed to stagger up from the mattress and made coffee, and after I had awakened a little bit, I was able to stumble into the bathroom and took a very long shower. By the time I got all of the cum cleaned off my body, I had used up all of the hot water.

That didn't set well with my uncle, who had arisen and wanted to get his shower, but I told him in no uncertain terms that I needed all the time I could to clean up the mess from the party that HE had instigated. He grumbled a little bit, but I think he saw my point.

I walked a little gingerly and moved awfully slow the rest of that Sunday, but I can't say I regretted a minute of what I'd done the night before. It was an orgy to remember, but I am glad we didn't have many of those kind of nights.

Still, when word got around about what had gone on that Memorial Day weekend, it simply enhanced my reputation as the baddest whore in the region, and our business got even better.

Things were going great and they stayed that way for quite awhile.



Me and My Uncle Ch. 07



It was midway through the spring semester of my sophomore year that I had one of the most memorable weekend experiences of my career as a prostitute.

By this time, I had learned how to play the game for college grant money. Because my father had died in the service, and my mom was incarcerated, I was considered an orphan, and entitled to a fairly significant sum of federal money to attend college.

That is, Lyn Gibson was considered an orphan, and without a legal guardian. By this time, I had learned how to live dual identities, and had become quite comfortable in both roles.

As Sophie, I could be a true wanton slut, the raving whore known far and wide for her sexual prowess. As Lyn, I could be a quiet, serious student, a nice girl who came to class every day, took copious notes, made good grades and didn't say boo to anyone.

Where I grew up isn't far from the Missouri River, on the south side of that wide, muddy stream. Columbia is on the north bank, and that made it easy for me to make certain that our business stayed oriented away from Columbia. I wanted as little chance as possible of someone at college recognizing me as Sophie.

Because Uncle Bill liked to account for where "our" money was going, I continued to use that for my college tuition and fees, and the grant money I received from the government I quietly put into an interest-bearing savings account at a bank in Columbia.

At the time, I simply thought of it as building a nest egg for when I graduated. As it turned out, it practically saved my life.

I guess it's a fair question to ask why, if I was getting federal grant money to attend college, did I stay in the prostitution business with my Uncle Bill? After all, that was supposed to be reason for me to get into the business in the first place.

I could have left him, used the grant money for college, and had a normal life as a normal person doing the things normal college students do - things like concerts and ball games, all of which I missed out on.

I know I've asked myself that question many times in the years since I left Missouri. I think the answer is fairly complicated, and has a lot to do with my psychological makeup.

For one thing, the money was very seductive. We made a boatload of money, and Bill and I both came to appreciate what it could do for us.

For another, I believed what Bill and others had always said about me, that I was born to be a whore. I was simply living down to everyone's expectations.

Still another answer was that the people I encountered while working for Uncle Bill were, for better or worse, my entire social life. I felt much more comfortable with the farmers and mechanics I dealt with at Bill's Place than I did with the snooty college types I encountered at Mizzou.

And, finally, there was the sex. I was getting more good sex than a typical 19-year-old has any right to get. True, a lot of it was ho-hum, wham-bam fucking, but a lot of it was really hot, and, frankly, I enjoyed it. I was getting my deep-seated sexual needs fulfilled in a very big way, and that would have been a difficult thing to give up at that point in my life.

At any rate, as 1989 turned into 1990, and my scarlet reputation grew, we began to take on more and more weekenders, those special events I mentioned earlier.

For a thousand dollars, you could buy my services for the entirety of Saturday and into Sunday. This was where we really got into the big time, and made some serious bucks.

Actually, it was Mr. Charley, the sheriff, who started turning some upper-echelon business our way for these events. The weekenders were a good way for the upscale types to buy the services of a whore without being seen at an out-of-the-way, redneck beer joint like Bill's Place.

A thousand dollars was chump change to some of these people. It was worth it for them to buy a girl who would come to their home, or anywhere else they wanted, who would do anything they told her to do, all night long - and I do mean anything - and who could be depended on to be discreet.

As I've said, I was a very good whore. I was always clean and healthy, the benefit of monthly visits to a Jeff City gynecologist, and I had a perfectly filthy mind. There wasn't much I wasn't willing to do, and as word spread, my services came to be much in demand.

Over the four years I was a whore, I spent weekends with bankers, lawyers, county supervisors, the mayor of one nearby town, law-enforcement officers, school administrators, anyone whose reputation would take a big hit if it got out that they were using the services of a prostitute.

And it wasn't just men, either. I spent a lot of weekends with upper-class women who were either closet lesbians or who were just adventurous and wanted to experience sex with another woman. I had been trained by some of the best lezzies around when I'd been at the juvenile school in Oklahoma, and I knew how to drive a woman crazy with lust.

Then there were the couples, and this was where I had the experience I'm about to relate. Earl Johnson, and his wife Jeanine, were an older couple in Jeff City, and they proved to be two of the kinkiest - and best - clients I ever had.

Earl was a prominent banker and Jeanine was an elementary school principal. He was about 50, and she was in her early 40s. Earl was somewhat portly, a barrel-chested fellow slightly under six feet tall, with brown hair that was slightly receding in front.


Jeanine had some sort of ethnic background, Filipino or maybe Native American, but whatever it was, it gave her gorgeous, exotic looks, with huge dark eyes, full lips and thick, straight jet-black hair that she wore to the middle of her back. She was what you would call chunky, but she wasn't gobby fat, in that she carried her weight well, and she was possessed of the biggest, most succulent tits I've ever seen.

It was a bitterly cold, gray mid-February day when I drove to their large, gated home on the outskirts of the city. Jeanine greeted me warmly about 3 o'clock that afternoon, escorted me in and introduced me to her husband.

She was dressed fairly casually, in a long skirt and a knit shirt with a low neck that revealed an ample amount of her stunning cleavage. I had dressed for warmth, in a wool sweater, with a tight, long-sleeved T-shirt underneath, jeans, boots, and my long coat.

Mizzou was playing a basketball game on TV at that moment, and Earl was apparently a big supporter of the university, so nothing was going to happen until after the game. That afforded us a chance to relax, have a few drinks, some light snacks and a little chance to get acquainted.

As always, I was very guarded in what information I divulged, and I certainly didn't want Earl finding out I was a student at the university. As far as they were concerned, I was just a poor, country girl who worked as a whore to make a living for myself, and my man, which, I guess, was pretty close to the truth. I don't know if they ever figured out that Bill was my uncle, or whether they thought he was my husband or boyfriend. Either way, I never told them the nature of our relationship, and they never asked.

After the game, which the Tigers won, Earl called me over and had me sit in his lap. We kissed, and I felt the avid gaze of Jeanine as he deftly slid his hand up under my sweater and cupped my tits, which were still encased in the tight T-shirt, but with no bra underneath.

In the course of our conversation, I had learned that they did this every so often, when they wanted to put a charge into their sex life. They actually loved each other quite a lot, but Jeanine was very bisexual, and Earl had a huge weakness for young girls. So they would solicit girls that they could spend some time with together, to allow both of them to indulge their desires at the same time, without cheating on each other.

As I did a lap dance on Earl, I felt his cock swelling in his pants, and I began to get real impressed, because it was obvious this man had a bulge to reckon with. But before I could get very far, he set me aside, called his wife over and got up.

"Why don't you two start getting comfortable while I go out and bring in some wood," Earl said jovially. "I think a little fun in front of the fireplace is just what the doctor ordered."

I walked slowly across the room, to where Jeanine lay back on the sofa in a very seductive pose. My mouth actually watered at the thought of getting at her juicy tits.

I guess because I've always been small up front, women with big tits have always fascinated me. Even today, years after my last lesbian encounter, I still get a little twinge in my groin when I see a woman who is showing a generous amount of cleavage.

I used to love to suck the tits of a large-breasted woman, trying to stuff as much of the voluminous flesh in my mouth as possible, and that's what I wanted to do with Jeanine.

I sat next to her on the sofa and melted into her arms. Our mouths met, and I lost myself in her fulsome lips, our tongues slashing together. Instinctively, my hands gravitated to her tits and I felt her fat nipples stiffen as I caressed them through her shirt.

My pussy swelled and moistened as our hands roamed over each other's body. Abruptly, Jeanine pulled my sweater over my head and tossed it aside. Her eyes glowed as she saw my hard little tips poking through the thin material of my undershirt.

About then, Earl came in with an armload of wood, and stacked some up on the fireplace grate. He stopped briefly to admire us as we kissed again, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Then he walked back out for another load of wood. I think he wanted to bring in enough so that he could keep the fire going for awhile without having to go back out for more wood, because it was really, really cold that night.

Now I was sitting back, with the older woman hovering over me. It was pretty clear to me at that point that she was the one who was going to be calling the shots, at least for awhile, and I was more than willing to let her do so.

She pulled the T-shirt over my head, tossed it aside and pressed her soft hands on my tiny tits. My nipples were hard as rocks, both from anticipation and the slight chill in the room.

"Pretty little titties," she whispered as she bent to suck and lick each hard nipple.

"They aren't much, but they're all I've got," I said softly. "Not like yours."

"Sweetheart, let me tell you, big tits are a double-edged sword," Jeanine said. "Sure, they're beautiful to look at and play with, but they can be a pain in the ass to take care of."

"I don't care about that," I said lustfully. "I just want to see them, touch them, suck them. I think they're beautiful."

Jeanine chuckled, but she stood up and pulled the shirt off, then quickly reached behind her and unsnapped her bra. She also dropped the skirt to the floor and stood in front of me naked.

"Now, is that better?" she said. 

It was. My eyes swept up and down Jeanine's body, taking in her sensual, voluminous curves. My gaze stopped at her well-trimmed pubic bush, which did nothing to hide the fat, gleaming lips of her pussy.

But I kept going back to her enormous tits, which sat plump on her chest without near as much sag as you would expect. They were capped with big, dark-brown nipples that were sticking out at least a half-inch, maybe more. Jeanine saw me staring at them and idly began to roll those nipples between her fingers in a slow, sensual motion that set my cunt on fire.

Jeanine then bent down and pulled my boots off, while I unsnapped my jeans and let her pull them and my socks off. I reached under my body and slid my panties off, then leaned back to give her a view of my tight little body.

"You have a beautiful body, Sophie," Jeanine said in a husky voice, as she looked me up and down. "Compact, everything right there, no excess. Just beautiful."

I don't know if she was sincere or if she was bullshitting me to get me in the mood, but I didn't care. I was flattered, because not many people had ever complimented me about my girlish body.

"I think your body's pretty sensual, too," I said returning the favor. "Nice curves, and I especially like this," and at that point, I leaned forward and ran a hand up the inside of her thighs to the junction of her legs. I slid my fingers between her wet lips, just enough to bring a low moan of arousal from Jeanine's mouth, but not enough to really get her going.

She sat next to me then, and the contact of our skin on skin had an electric effect. Her hands slid up the insides of my thighs, and her fingers played lightly through my bubbling pussy lips. I was on fire with lust, and I did the same for her.

Again, I slid my fingers through her juicy lips, which framed her hot, horny hole, and this time I found her clit. I rolled it in my fingers a couple of times, then plunged two fingers into her pussy, pumped them once, twice, three times, then pulled them out. Jeanine groaned in lustful frustration, and I just laughed. Like I said, I knew how to drive a woman nuts.

As I was sliding my fingers up Jeanine's slot, I bent down and captured one of her large nipples between my lips. I sucked the hard flesh in my mouth, worked it with my tongue and nibbled on it with my teeth.

By then, Earl had come back in with another armload of wood, set it down and had begun to light the fire. Soon he had a nice, roaring blaze going, and I could feel the warmth caressing my body.

Earl left the room, and returned with a quilt that he laid down on the floor in front of the fire. But I didn't see him do any of that. My attention was riveted to the sight of his semi-hard cock that bobbed in front of him. While he'd been in another part of the house, he'd taken off his clothes, and strode into the den naked.

Now I fucked a lot of big cocks during the four years I whored for Uncle Bill, and while there were a few who had bigger cocks than Earl Johnson, there weren't many. He was easily among the top 10.

Jeanine just grinned as she saw my reaction, which was a potent combination of lust and awe. It wasn't even hard yet, and it was already a good 7 inches long and thick as a beer bottle.

"I see you like my husband's cock," Jeanine purred. "A lot of girls in your position take one look at it and get scared. You're not scared of it, are you?"

"Are you kidding?" I said. "You forget. I'm a whore, and, believe it or not, I have seen bigger. Not many, though. That's a very nice piece of meat. Can I suck it?"

"Why don't we both suck on it," Jeanine said, standing up. "Let's get comfortable by the fire. Come, darling."

Earl just stood there with an amused, confident look on his face, his back to the fire. Jeanine and I got up on our knees in front of him, and grabbed for his dick. Our four hands caressed the smooth member, and it quickly straightened out into a true cudgel, about 9 inches worth.

We both licked at the shaft, caressing the stiff rod with our lips. I lapped up a big dollop of pre-cum that oozed out the tip of Earl's cock, then traveled back down the thick slab. As I did, my tongue crossed paths with Jeanine's tongue, and I felt a jolt of pleasure from the oral contact.

I stared as Jeanine opened her mouth and slid the fat head of her husband's dong past her lips, and my jaw dropped as she took almost every bit of that thing down her throat. But I quickly recovered, and sucked his low-hanging balls into my mouth, one after the other.

Jeanine slurped on Earl's cock for a minute or two, then pulled her mouth away and aimed the head at my mouth. I opened as wide as I could, and I managed to get the head and about half the shaft into my mouth, but that was it.

Nevertheless, I sucked enthusiastically on what I had, then slid it out of my mouth and gave it back to Jeanine. We traded licks and sucks back and forth, but after awhile, I felt Jeanine's fingers between my legs, and I groaned around the massive meat in my mouth as she slipped two fingers in my boiling box.

Jeanine finger-fucked me for a minute or two, then stood up and left the room while I continued to suck Earl's cock. When she returned, she had one of these upright pillows that you use to read in bed. She had Earl lie down, leaning back on the pillow, so that he was on the floor with his cock aimed for the ceiling. She put her hand to the back of my head and gently, but firmly, pushed me back toward the fat head of his dick.

I didn't need any encouragement, because just having that fat piece of dick in my hand, and imagining what it could do to me, was making my pussy boil with lust. I slid the head past my lips and began working my head up and down, getting more of it in my mouth with each up-and-down motion.

In this position, my ass was thrust up and out further than it had been before, and my wet cunt was open for display. I moaned over the load in my mouth as I felt Jeanine's tongue slide over my anus and down to my boiling cunt. Her fingers pried me open and she dove in from behind, sending my arousal shooting through the roof.

Jeanine slipped her fingers up my drooling snatch as she bent down to lick my clit, then kissed her way up to tongue my ass. My hips were working in a jerky motion as she skillfully brought me to the brink of orgasm, only to back off before I could come.

Meanwhile, I was making a sloppy meal out of Earl's cock. I was bound and determined that I was going to deep throat him, and I tried my damnedest to get all of his magnificent cock in my throat.

But no matter how much I tried to relax my throat, the way I'd learned months earlier, I just couldn't get that fat head past the entrance to my throat. Long streams of drool flowed down my chin and onto my chest as I worked to get more and more of Earl's cock into my throat.

At one point, I could feel something odd, and I looked back briefly to see Jeanine rubbing one of her big, fat nipples between my pussy lips. She was actually trying to fuck me with her tits, and I found that to be an incredible turn-on, especially when she brushed a nipple over my super-sensitive clit.

I could feel a maelstrom of sensations that was making me light-headed. There was the lack of air from trying to stuff Earl's cock down my throat, and the sweet swelling of lust from Jeanine's mouth, fingers and tits at my sex.

It all came to a sudden crest, as a huge orgasm suddenly burst through my body. I had to take Earl's cock out of my mouth as I wailed in my pleasure. My sweat-covered body shook and shuddered as my orgasm flowed through me, and I briefly lost consciousness.

When I came to, I was on my back and they were hovering over me, but it didn't look like they were too concerned about me. They both had a wild look almost of triumph on their faces as they looked down on me. Earl was already positioned between my legs, his obscenely bloated cock poised at the gaping opening to my pussy. I smiled thinly to let them know I was with it, and that I was ready for Earl to fuck me.

And I was, too. My first orgasm had been strong, but it had left me wanting more. I looked up at Earl with lust-filled eyes and begged him to fuck me with his huge cock. He grinned as Jeanine picked up my head and cradled it in her lap.

Earl rubbed the bulbous head of his cock between my pussy lips several times, and each time he made sure he brushed my clit, causing me to gasp in lust. After teasing me with it for a minute or two, he pushed slightly and the head of his cock entered me.

"AHHHH GOD! D-D-DAMN!" I yelled as I felt the head of his cock push past my opening. It felt like he was splitting me in two as he slowly fed me his meat. Like I said, I had taken some big cocks before, so I knew what to expect, but it still wasn't easy. And, fortunately, Earl was patient. He took his time, stopping every so often to make sure I was adjusted to his size before he thrust a little more of his cock in me.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 07



By the time he had a little over half of it in my steaming box, I was writhing on the quilt in absolute screaming ecstasy. I was gasping and moaning, cooing and squealing as he worked his massive meat ever deeper in me.

I was in a frenzy, and I instinctively reached up for Jeanine's huge tits, which were dangling over my head. She quickly got the hint and fed me her tits, and I squeezed, sucked, licked and nibbled on her long, fat nipples while Earl patiently stuffed more of his sausage in my meat hole.

When he had all but about an inch or two in me, I could feel him in the pit of my stomach, but I wanted it all. No, check that. I needed it all. His cock had transported me into some other dimension of sexual pleasure, and I didn't care about anything except getting Earl's cock all the way in and for him to fuck the absolute living dogshit out of me.

I was delirious as I pulled my mouth off one of Jeanine's tits and yelled for Earl to, "give it all to me, motherfucker. Come on, I can take it. Fuck me with that thing, and make... meeeee... cummmmmm!"

And, man, did he. With a grunt, Earl thrust his hips forward violently and rammed the rest of his cock into my spastic cunt. I screamed in that weird combination of pain and pleasure that I occasionally got off on, and I could feel another climax starting to pick up steam.

Earl pulled back slightly and began to slowly, but steadily, work his cock back and forth in my frothing hole, fucking me with his big fat dong in rhythm. My eyes were clenched shut as I felt my orgasm build to a white-hot pitch, so I felt, rather than saw that Jeanine had maneuvered herself so that she was straddling my head.

I opened my eyes to the sight of Jeanine's purple pussy, the fat lips open and dripping with desire. Her pink insides were slick as she held herself open with two fingers. I was ravenous for her pussy, almost as much as I was hungry for Earl's cock to fuck me into oblivion.

I reached up and pulled her hips down, so that her meaty pussy was over my mouth. I stuck out my tongue and just lost myself in her steamy twat. I sucked her lips, her clit, I tongue-fucked her hole, and I even gave her asshole a few good licks.

All the while, Earl was causing sparks of lust to crackle through my body as he expertly fucked me. I have to say, the man's control was impressive. To look at him, you wouldn't have thought this slightly-overweight, 50ish banker could be that good, but he proved to be better, with more stamina and more ability to get back up to speed quickly, than just about any young stud I fucked during my four years of whoring.

He just kept working his cock systematically back in forth in my churning cunt, and it didn't take much more of that before I tumbled over the edge into another tumultuous orgasm. My whole sweat-covered body shimmied and shook, but Earl didn't miss a beat. He just kept right on working that meat in my box, and I could feel another hard climax following right on the heels of the one before it.

I could feel - and hear - Jeanine getting close as well. She was rolling her plump hips in a frantic motion, covering my whole face with her twitching pussy. My mouth was going 90 miles an hour as I lapped up the juice that flowed from her hole.

I was in sex heaven, and as another climax crashed through me, I felt Jeanine's body shake like a bowl of jello, and she screamed out her passion.

"Oh God, baby, I want more of that," she panted. Me? I was beyond speech; beyond any coherent thought except getting more pleasure from this couple who knew how to give it. I heard Jeanine and Earl talking in a soft voice, and I couldn't make out what they were saying.

However, seconds later, Earl suddenly pulled his cock out of my pussy with a loud sucking sound. To say I was bereft doesn't do justice to how empty I felt at that moment. My cunt felt like the Grand Canyon without Earl's massive meat packing my pussy.

I wasn't empty long, though. Jeanine also climbed off my face - which was drenched with the fruits of her passion - and rolled me onto my knees. Then she laid down on her back underneath me, her head between my legs, and spread her legs wide. She reached up her arms for me, and I didn't need to be told what to do. I straddled her head, she grabbed my hips and I let her pull my pussy down onto her mouth.

The second Jeanine Johnson got her tongue up my blazing pussy, I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven. I have never met anyone, male or female, who ate pussy as skillfully as she did. She had a fairly long tongue, and she used it everywhere. She licked my clit, slashed her way through my lips and tongue-fucked my pussy like it was a cock.

As she worked me into a frenzy of lust, I knew instinctively that I needed to reciprocate. I bent down, spread her thighs open and put my mouth to work on her fat cunt. Now we were really soaring, and for just a second I almost forgot about Earl. I mean, we sucked each other's pussy like starving sailors, giving each other pleasure at an ever-higher level, until we simultaneously shuddered in a mutual climax.

Suddenly, at the height of my orgasm, I felt Earl's cock at the entrance to my cunt, and I eagerly pushed my hips back to get his cock back in me again. There was nothing patient about his entry this time, nor did I want him to be patient. I wanted him to fuck me hard, and that's what he did. He slid his cock smoothly and firmly all the way in, and I screamed into Jeanine's cunt as he began to ram me with hard, fast strokes.

As Earl fucked me like a locomotive, I felt Jeanine's tongue working at my clit, and I felt yet another hard climax begin to come to a head. I was totally out of my mind with lust, my whole being nothing but white-hot sensate pleasure.

I could tell Earl was getting close, because his huge cock was starting to twitch as he picked up steam. I buried my face in Jeanine's cunt and did my best to bring her off, but I was having a tough time concentrating because of the sensory overload in my crotch.

I felt like I was in a tornado as the feelings swelled to a fever pitch, and then it hit me. I mean, it physically felt like I was hit by a ton of bricks. My body went into spasms, my head was thrashing between Jeanine's legs and I was spouting incoherent sounds as I orgasmed about as hard as it's possible to do so.

And at that moment, I felt Earl's cock swell, he grunted hard several times, then he pushed as deep as he could and unloaded a torrent of thick, boiling-hot cum. It felt like a hose had been shoved up my pussy as he bathed my insides with his seed, and I continued to shake from the intensity of my orgasm.

It seemed like he came forever, but finally, his cock began to wilt - slightly - and he pulled out slowly. That's when Jeanine showed me what she was all about. She immediately clamped her mouth over my cunt and sucked out every bit of Earl's cum from my gaping, fresh-fucked pussy.

As she did, I watched her right hand strum her clit like she was some kind of rock guitarist, and right about the time she had most of the cum cleaned out of me, she orgasmed again, violently. She shook and screamed as she lay there on the quilt wallowing in pleasure.

I finally had to roll onto my back because my legs were trembling from the pressure I'd put on them. My whole body felt like I'd been run through the spin cycle. Earl and Jeanine had worked me through five hard orgasms, and I was a limp shell, yet somehow I had the feeling we were just getting started.

Still, we did take a break. Earl broke out a bottle of wine, and we had a relaxing drink while he placed more wood into the fireplace and stoked the fire.

After awhile, Earl and Jeanine lay down on either side of me, and we all three kissed slowly, sensually. Or, rather, they took turns kissing me, and they ran their hands all up and down my body.

While Earl bent his head and licked my nipples, Jeanine's hand was working between my legs. Her fingers were playing an arpeggio of lust in my cunt, and I was beginning to get aroused again. It was plain to see that they were going to work some kind of magic on me, and use me both for their pleasure.

And I certainly wasn't going to complain. I surrendered to their ministrations, as they each worked their mouths and hands all over my sweat-slick body.

Just then, Jeanine got up and left the room, and Earl maneuvered me down and rolled me onto my stomach so that I was between his legs, and his semi-hard cock was right in my face. I took the fat dong and rubbed the leaking head all over my face, letting him see just what a horny bitch I really was, before feeding it back into my mouth.

I slowly sucked him up and down, and he quickly got hard again. It was at that moment that Earl looked over my shoulder with sparkling eyes, so I pulled my mouth off his cock, and I turned my head to be greeted by a stunning sight.

Jeanine had fitted herself with a strap-on cock, and it was a big one, at least 8 inches and awfully fat. My pussy lurched in anticipation of getting it in my hot little hole.

This was going to be something new for me. In previous liaisons with other women, I'd had dildos and vibrators used on me, and I'd used them on my clients, as well. But I'd never had a woman use a strap-on to fuck me, and I was keen for the experience.

Jeanine had a little bottle of oil that she poured over the fake dick. Earl slid back slightly, and I lay fully on my back. Jeanine knelt between my legs, stroking the big dildo like it was a cock. Her eyes were lidded in lust, and her tongue was licking slowly and seductively over her lips.

"Are you ready for Mama to fuck you?" she asked in a husky voice. "You want to feel Mama's big hard dick in your nasty little hole? Hmmmm? What about it? You want it?"

"Oh God, yessssss," I hissed, as I reached between my legs and opened up my wet, angry red pussy. I was ready for anything they were prepared to throw at me, and it's a damn good thing I was, because this was one kinky, inventive couple.

Jeanine smiled languidly as she knelt between my legs, leaned forward, placed the head of the cock to my burning hole and slid it smoothly in all the way. I groaned in lust as she entered me and quickly began to fuck me with purposeful strokes. 

It wasn't quite as big as Earl's cock had been, but it was plenty big enough, and I felt filled to the brim. Jeanine swished her long dark hair back and held my hips as she worked me over the hard, rubber dong.

I bucked my hips upward as we quickly got into a fucking rhythm. Just then, I sensed a presence hovering over my head, and it was Earl dangling his dong over my face. I bent my head back, reached up, grasped the fleshy pole at the base and fed it into my hungry mouth.

And it was in this position that I was finally able to get Earl's cock into my throat. It about choked me, but I did it. I just let my whole body relax and let them do whatever they wanted. Earl's cock was scudding back and forth into my throat, Jeanine's rubber cock was pounding my pussy in hard steady strokes, and I was lying back in absolute ecstasy, my pussy juice flowing from my hole and drool running out the corners of my mouth and down over my face.

I could feel another climax building just from being used like that. I was a limp fuck doll and that realization, along with the feelings that were coursing through my body quickly brought a strong orgasm to the fore.

It wasn't nearly as strong as the one I'd had a few minutes earlier, but it was still awfully good. I gasped and jerked as the feelings of pleasure washed over me.

It took me a few seconds to realize that Earl had pulled his cock from my mouth. But I took quick note of that when Jeanine wrapped her hands around my waist and pulled me off the floor, as she lay on her back.

It also took a second or two before I realized what they had planned for me next, but as I got steadied on my knees and began to rock up and down on Jeanine's fake cock, I felt Earl's hands on my butt. He massaged my cheeks and spread me open, and I turned around sharply.

"If you're thinking about fucking my ass with that thing, please take it real easy," I panted.

"Don't worry, I always go real slow," Earl said soothingly.

"But once he gets it in you, you'll go wild, I promise," Jeanine chimed in. "It feels heavenly back there, once you get used to it."

"Maybe I can, um, distract my attention," I said, feasting my eyes on Jeanine's big titties, which were spread all over her chest, with her long, fat nipples jutting up to the sky. I leaned over and sucked one, then the other, into my mouth while Earl poured some of the oil down the crack of my ass.

When he had a generous amount of oil flowing over my hole, he started working his fat fingers in my ass. He began with his middle finger, then quickly added a second. The salty taste of Jeanine's tits, the feeling of the strap-on cock fucking my bubbling cunt and the sensation of Earl's fingers coring open my ass had me sliding down a slippery slope to yet another massive orgasm.

By the time Earl had three fingers churning in my ass, I was ready to be double-fucked in this most unusual way. I leaned forward again, reached back and opened myself up, giving Earl a clear invitation to stick the fat head of his cock in my ass and fuck me bow-legged.

I shivered when he pressed the hard head of his cock to my backside. In spite of his work with his fingers, I wasn't sure if he was going to be able to get it in there. Jeanine pulled me down on top of her, kissing me voraciously to help me relax, but she was still giving the strap-on cock little pushes deep in my clenching cunt.

Earl's cock slowly, methodically pushed at my anus, and I willed my whole body to relax. Suddenly, with a gasp, his cock penetrated my anus, and I screamed in equal parts pain and pleasure. God, I had never felt so full in my life. It was like I was being split in half by the twin spears that were opening me up to unheard of width.

When Earl had the entire head of his cock embedded in my ass, he stopped and squeezed out some more oil over where we were joined. I was trying hard not to give in to the pain of being so fully filled. I'd had DPs before with big cocks, but this was different. The rubber dildo that was buried in my pussy didn't have as much give as the average cock, and I guess that contributed to the fulless.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Earl began to push more of his cock into my ass, and I finally felt the discomfort melt away, replaced by huge sparks of intense pleasure. By the time Earl had a little better than half of his cock in me, I lifted the upper part of my body from Jeanine and howled in lust.

Rhythmically, Earl and Jeanine began fucking me with slow, jerky strokes, and I was moving my hips in time with them. I could feel another climax of gargantuan proportions building steam in my body, and I was rapidly losing touch with reality.

Faster and harder, I worked my body between their ample frames, feeling like thinly sliced meat between two loaves of French bread. And, man, did I love it! I was going berserk as the feelings of pleasure began to soar out of control.

I looked down at Jeanine's face, and she wore a rictus of lust that I've never forgotten. Her teeth were bared, her eyes were closed and her big tits were wobbling madly on her chest as she fucked me with ever-harder upward thrusts.

And, Earl? My God, Earl was humping my ass like a demon, pushing the plum-sized head of his cock into my bowels with each inward push. We were all three sweating like pigs as we hurtled on a rapid road to a climax.

I got there first. With a gasp and a scream, I felt the waves of pleasure crash over me, as my orgasm crested. Seconds later, I felt Jeanine's whole body shudder as she reached her climax, and seconds after that, I felt Earl's cock swell in my ass as he exploded in a fountain of cum.

We looked - and felt - like some three-backed beast as we twitched and shuddered in our sweaty climax. Over and over I felt the waves hit me, until I finally collapsed onto Jeanine's ample breasts. I was only dimly aware of Earl's cock popping out of my ass like the cork from a champagne bottle, followed my another torrent of cum that washed over my dilated pussy.

I felt myself being rolled onto my back, and Jeanine smoothly eased the strap-on cock out of me. I lay back in exhaustion, my body once again a limp, used-up shell. I opened my eyes and saw that Earl and Jeanine were also sprawled out in front of the lowering fire. Earl was leaning back on his little pillow, and Jeanine was laid out next to me, her huge tits heaving.

I thought that maybe we were done, but I was wrong. Oh, was I wrong! Jeanine didn't get her hands on a girl like me very often, and she apparently planned to do everything to me that her perverted mind could concoct.

Still, it would be awhile before Earl was back up to speed, so after he restoked the fire, he disappeared into the kitchen and was gone for a fairly long while. I actually dozed on the floor until I smelled something from the kitchen. A few minutes later, Earl walked back in the den with a pizza that he had heated up, and we spent the next half-hour or so refueling with pizza and beer.

We had finished two pizzas and a couple of beers, and I had finally recovered somewhat. I looked over at Jeanine, and she was looking at me with the most disconcerting look. It was not quite a leer, but it was salacious nonetheless. She had something wicked on her mind, and I shuddered in spite of myself.

Sure enough, she asked me just then if I had an open mind, if I was willing to try something really different.

"I guess so," I said. "I mean, this isn't going to involve any kind of pain, will it?"

"I don't think so, at least not overtly," she answered. Somehow, that wasn't a particularly reassuring answer. "I guarantee, though, you'll cum in buckets before I'm finished with what I want to do to you."

In spite of my apprehension, I could feel my pussy swelling and getting wetter. At that point in my life, I was always up for a sexual adventure. Eventually, that attitude would get me in trouble, but that day was still quite some time off.

"You paid for me, so I guess you can do whatever you want," I said.

Satisfied by my response, Jeanine got up and walked out of the room for a moment. As she left, I feasted my eyes on her jiggling flesh, at her wide, meaty butt that wiggled as she walked. I'm not sure what it was about her that I found so sexy, but she definitely turned my crank more than most women half her size.

She returned carrying a jar of some kind of cream. Now I was really intrigued, and I stole a glance at Earl, who was sitting back watching avidly. His eyes were like lasers, and his cock was beginning to stir.

Jeanine knelt on the floor between my legs, and I lifted myself up on my elbows to get a better view of what she was doing.

"You do trust me, don't you?" Jeanine asked. I just nodded, so she opened the jar and scooped out a generous portion of a silky cream. With two fingers she began to massage my pussy, and I could feel the sensations welling up in my body, both from anticipation of the unknown and from the touch of her hand.

As she worked the cream into my cunt, she began to roll my clit with her thumb, slowly but rhythmically. I was honestly not sure how much more sensual pleasure I could stand, but I was about to find out just what my limit was, because I was quickly beginning to climb back into the stratosphere.

Methodically, Jeanine pumped her fingers back and forth in my dripping pussy, stopping periodically to gather more of the soothing cream. Soon, she added a third finger. I looked up through lust-lidded eyes and both Jeanine and Earl had an excited look on their faces, and I was puzzled. I mean, all she was doing was finger-fucking me. Right?




Me and My Uncle Ch. 07



Then she added a fourth finger and began to really grind her fingers deeper into my pussy, and at the same time, she began to increase the pace of her thumb on my clit. By this time, Earl's cock was back to maximum strength. In fact, I believe it was harder at that point than it had been all night, and he was slowly stroking it, getting his flowing pre-cum all over the iron shaft.

I was so busy watching Earl jack his cock that it took me a second to realize that Jeanine had folded her thumb into the palm of her hand, and was pushing her hand deeper and harder into me. But as she began to push all five fingers more urgently into me, stretching me wide-open, I certainly felt it, and I began to get some idea of what she was going to do.

But it was a very dim idea, because up until that very moment, I had never heard of fisting. I guess that's what you get when you spend all of your life in the sticks. But somehow I had never heard of that being done, until it was done to me.

I got an education real quick, however, because Jeanine was going at my cunt in an almost demented fashion, pushing her hand further into me until, suddenly, she pushed her whole hand into my cunt.

I think I screamed, but I really don't remember, because at that moment I was filled with such a searing explosion of pain/pleasure between my legs that it completely blocked everything else out of my mind.

Before I knew what was happening, Jeanine had her whole hand up my cunt all the way to her wrist, obscenely stretching my insides even more than Earl's big, fat cock had done. I thrashed on the floor as a wicked orgasm began to consume me.

Jeanine worked her hand deep in my cunt in all sorts of ways. First, she balled her hand up into a fist, and as she fucked me with it, all the air in my lungs was knocked out of me as I was wracked with a spectacular orgasm.

I started going berserk at that point, writhing on the floor in sweat-covered ecstasy. After using her fist for awhile, Jeanine opened her hand back up and worked her fingers deep in my core, her slippery fingers caressing my inner hot spot, and sending me into waves of passion.

I looked through lust-glazed eyes and realized that Earl had mounted his wife from behind, and was fucking her with frenzied strokes. They both looked completely zoned out, but Jeanine wasn't so out of it that she couldn't bend her head down between my legs, just above where she was working her hand in my pussy, and start licking my bloated clit.

That sent yet another wave of orgasmic sensations crashing through my body, and I felt almost dizzy, like I was falling into a vortex of lust. I clutched my breasts and twisted my nipples as the fire of passion consumed me.

From seemingly far away, I could hear Earl and Jeanine gasping, crying out in their own state of passion. Faster and harder, Jeanine fucked me with her hand, while Earl fucked her from behind.

It was all too much. As my fourth huge orgasm exploded through my body, I saw Earl's face screw up and I felt Jeanine shudder, like they were both cumming at the same time. I thrashed on the floor as my climax peaked, and that's the last thing I remember from that night.

The next thing I knew, I was lying in bed between Earl and Jeanine, and the cold gray light of dawn was filtering through their bedroom window. I needed to pee desperately, but when I managed to crawl out from between them, I collapsed on the floor.

It was only then that I realized how seriously my body had been used. I ached all over, my legs were like rubber, my pussy was sore as hell and I think I had bruises all over me from where Earl and Jeanine had manhandled me. I felt grungy from all the sweat that had dried on my body. I was dehydrated and starving, but all I really wanted to do was crawl back in bed and sleep for about three days.

Incredibly, however, Earl and Jeanine weren't through with me. After we got up and showered, we ate a big breakfast, then we returned to their bedroom. Jeanine produced a bottle of oil and proceeded to empty it all over both of our bodies. She and I had a grand time sliding our bodies together on the oily sheets.

I was on top, sliding my slippery little titties over Jeanine's massive jugs, and we were kissing deeply, when I felt Earl's cock nudging at my pussy from behind. Truthfully, as sore as I was, that was about the last thing I wanted to do, but they'd paid for me, so I let him fuck me.

But he didn't fuck me long before he pulled out and slid his cock into Jeanine. He fucked her for awhile, then slid his cock back into me and began to fuck me with slow, powerful strokes. At that point, I was too drained to really fire up a climax, and Earl finally pulled out and shot a huge cum load all over my back, which Jeanine slowly, and quite sensually, rubbed into my skin.

After resting for a bit, we finished the weekend's wild activities with Jeanine giving me an encore performance with her strap-on, only this time, she waited until Earl was back hard again, and he had maneuvered me so that I was on top, riding him.

When Jeanine greased up my ass and slid that fucker into my rectum, I finally found a renewed orgasmic function. And by the time Earl finally shot his last load deep in my cunt, they had worked me through three more orgasms, and I was just about all done.


After another shower, it was almost dark by the time I painfully pulled my clothes back on and ventured out into the cold.

Uncle Bill just looked at me oddly when I trudged into the apartment, pulled my boots off and fell on the bed fully clothed. I was out like a light inside of 30 seconds and it took him shaking me vigorously to get me up the next morning to get ready for class.

Earl and Jeanine showed me some exotic new vistas of pleasure, and took me to the edge of sexual endurance, and once I recovered from what they put me through, I came to recall the whole experience with a great deal of relish. Even today, I sometimes think about that weekend, and I get all squishy between my legs.

I visited them four more times, and while they were all good, they didn't approach the frantic, wild abandon of that first weekend together. Eventually, they moved on to someone else, and I lost track of them.

But what they did to me was an indication of the extremes I was starting to reach, and things would only get wilder and hairier as time went on.



Me and My Uncle Ch. 08



I can pinpoint with crystal clarity the moment when things began to turn sour between me and my uncle.

At the time, I didn't see it as anything other than just a potentially interesting night that went bad. But looking back on it, I've come to realize that the experience I endured that night was the first time where things really went too far, and I found myself starting to dislike something I had previously come to enjoy.

To begin with, it happened on the Independence Day weekend in 1991, and that didn't exactly put me in the most positive frame of mind.

Even today, I have a hard time getting festive about the Fourth of July, because it was during that holiday weekend when I was 11 that everything came crashing down around me with regard to Schultzie and my mom. My life changed forever that bleak weekend in 1981, and I'm always reminded of that when the holiday comes around.

And in '91 it really hit me hard. It had been 10 years since the night my mom caught Schultzie in the act of molesting me sexually, and subsequently shot him to death. That act had sent her to prison for life and me to the hellhole that was the girls' school for juveniles in Oklahoma and thus to my Uncle Bill.

Moreover, by the summer of 1991, I had been Uncle Bill's whore for three years, and I was beginning to get tired of it. I was weary of empty, monotonous sex with anyone who had the money to pay for me, the long nights taking on a parade of men, most of whom were more than a little drunk.

Also, I was approaching my senior year at the university, and I was starting to anticipate life after college, when I could get a real job and not have to fuck for a living. More to the point, I was starting to look forward to getting away from Uncle Bill and getting out on my own.

Complicating matters was the fact that I had met someone the previous semester that I really liked, almost to the point of love, except that it was another girl.

Leave it to me to have my first significant relationship be with another woman, but then what else would you expect from someone with such a dysfunctional life as mine.

Let me be clear on one thing. I am not, was not, nor have I ever been a lesbian. I was forced into committing lesbian sex acts at the juvenile school, where I learned everything there was to learn about sex between women, and I had subsequently come to enjoy certain aspects of lesbian love in the course of my career as a prostitute.

But I was always a heterosexual in my psychological make-up. I always dreamed of finding a husband and bearing his children, and I never wavered from that dream even when I had my face buried in some woman's fragrant pussy.

Nevertheless, Janelle Hatch was the critical person in my life. She showed me that it was possible to have sex with another person without one partner using the other, to give love to another without regard for what either one might be able to squeeze out of the relationship.

I had never had a relationship where the only thing that mattered was making the other partner happy. Although I didn't "love" Janelle in the romantic meaning of the word, it was with her and through her that I learned the true meaning of love.

We met at the university's fitness center, where I had taken to going for lunch. Having sex for a living - at least the way I practiced it - is physically demanding work. So it wasn't long after I started turning tricks that I realized that I'd be doing myself - and my customers - a big favor if I stayed in pretty good shape.

So I always scheduled my classes so that I'd have a nice long break for lunch. I'd go to the fitness center, run through a series of exercises - push-ups, sit-ups, jumping rope, jogging and occasionally swimming - eat a light lunch there at the salad bar, then go on to my afternoon classes.

About two weeks into the spring semester my junior year, I noticed this cute new girl working behind the counter at the fitness center. She was a little shorter than average, and solidly built, with a beautiful pair of DD-size tits that made me drool the very first time I saw her. She had big, gorgeous brown eyes, lips that were full but not excessive and a wild, shoulder-length mane of soft, bushy curls.

We'd chat as she ran my ID card through the scanner, then we started having lunch together and occasionally we'd do a workout together. We hit it off right from the start.

It didn't take me long to figure out that she had the hots for me pretty bad, and I found myself attracted to her like I had never been with another female, especially after we started to get close and found out how much we had in common.

It might not have seemed that way at first blush, since she was a black girl from Kansas City and I was a white girl from the country. But we had both lost our fathers at an early age, we both had mothers who drank heavily and - most critically - we had both been molested in our prepubescent years by an older man who was supposed to be taking care of us.

In her case, it was her uncle, and it went on for four long years before she finally worked up the courage to tell someone, and he ended up going to prison over it. Unlike me, Janelle's experience had made her deathly afraid of any kind of intimacy with a man, so she had fully and completely embraced the lesbian lifestyle.

Finding out we had this in common was the spark that led us to our first sexual encounter, and it was a life-changing experience for me. We feasted on each other's bodies that afternoon, and we happily exhausted ourselves. I had never been with someone who was so giving of herself sexually. My pleasure was paramount to her, and, in turn, that made me want to please her all the more. It really was a beautiful relationship, and we're still best friends today (though not lovers).

For the rest of the semester, I would spend a couple of nights a week with Janelle, nights when I wasn't working for Uncle Bill, because I had labs and stuff to do that kept me on campus late. I think Uncle Bill suspected there was someone I was seeing on campus, and that helped set in motion a lot of what was to come.

And the truth is, Uncle Bill was starting to get on my nerves. He was coming up with more and more of these outlandish party ideas that usually ended with me taking on large numbers of men.

One time, he had me do a strip show at Cosmo's bar in Jeff City, then had everyone there take a turn with me in the back room of the bar. Another time, he took me to a truck stop along I-70 not too far from Kansas City and passed me around to as many truckers as he could find that were willing to pay for me. Talk about awful, it was absolutely one of the worst nights of my life.

Uncle Bill was really starting to enjoy humiliating me and degrading me, and he never missed an opportunity to belittle me. But after that incident, I put my foot down, and told him if he tried anything like that again, that I'd cut his nuts off.

And I meant it. I was starting to assert my independence, starting to think, act and do for myself as I passed age 21. Plus, I was letting loose some of the latent temper that I inherited from my mother, after years of keeping it tightly bottled up, and none of that sat very well with my uncle.

He tried to bully me, the way he always had, and in some respects, he succeeded. But I was absolutely adamant about staying out of those kinds of situations, for the sake of my health and my safety.

As long as we stayed in the county and worked at Bill's Place, I felt reasonably safe, both from violence and disease. Fact is, I consider myself incredibly lucky that I didn't come out of my four years of whoring for Uncle Bill with some sort of sexually transmitted disease, or that I never encountered any serious violence, at least not until the bitter end.

One thing working in my favor was the fact that in this part of the country at that particular time, AIDS was still mostly a "gay" disease. While I'm sure there were a few gay men in the area, they kept themselves deeply closeted, and I never met one who was open about it in my home county.

I felt like Uncle Bill was deliberately putting me in danger by carrying me to these places, so I reminded him, quite forcefully, that he'd promised that I wouldn't get hurt working for him. He backed off for a time, but his mind was becoming so diseased by what he was doing to me - and to himself - that it was only a matter of time before things would get out of control.

And it really started that Friday night, July 5, 1991.

I've said a couple of times before that over the course of time, I had become a real cum junkie. Starting not long after that night at the adult bookstore three years earlier, I had developed a taste for the stuff.

I loved the taste when I swallowed a man's load, I loved the texture when cum was spewed on my body, especially my face, and I loved the sensation when a man spilled his seed in my pussy or my ass. And, as I said once before, the more cum, the better.

So when a fellow named Jack Cornish came to Uncle Bill about buying me for what he called a Cum Party, I found the idea intriguing. No, let me be honest. I found the idea to be a huge turn-on.

Jack had been coming around for about six months, and he and Uncle Bill had become friendly. Like Bill, he'd been in the service in Europe, and had retired after a long career. He was divorced and lived with a buddy at a place on the outskirts of town.

He said he'd gotten the idea from a club in Amsterdam, where the featured attraction was a "target girl." One of the working girls at the club would be chosen to be the target girl for the night, and her job was to kneel, lie down, stand, whatever, and let anyone who paid a certain fee to shoot cum all over her body.

Naturally, Uncle Bill thought it was a splendid idea, and the deal was made. Jack passed the word around to his friends, acquaintances and patrons at the bar that I would be doing a "special" party the night after the Fourth of July.

I figured a good party was just what I needed to wipe out the funk that I was feeling about the holiday, and all that it meant to me.

Jack wanted me to arrive around 8 o'clock that night, even though the party wasn't scheduled to get going until about 10.

I found out why when I arrived at Jack's that night. He had decided that he was going to have a little pre-party, to get me in the mood, he said. They had some whiskey and they insisted that I have a couple of shots before we got down to business.

After about 15 minutes, I was starting to feel a buzz, which I was grateful for at the moment. This was during the period when my drinking reached its peak. More and more, I was drinking to numb myself to what I was doing, so I wouldn't have to think about it, and I could just lose myself in the alcoholic haze. Hell, there were nights when I simply passed out and they just fucked my comatose body.

There were five of them, Jack, his roommate and three of their friends. I hadn't worn much, just a sundress and sandals, and they quickly got me naked. We were in his kitchen, and as soon as I was naked, I was picked up and laid back on the round table.

While Jack sat on a chair and put his face between my legs to give my pussy a few licks and sucks, the other four men stripped off their clothes. When they were naked, Jack got up, moved the chair out of the way and invited his friends to have at me.

They were all in their late 30s or early 40s, and I honestly don't remember any particular characteristics about any of them, except for Jack and Dave, his roommate. Dave was the first to fuck me, and he just pushed his decent-sized cock up me without any fanfare whatsoever.

I don't know what I expected, but somehow the way they just plowed right in didn't agree with me. I guess it was because at most of these parties an effort was made to get me hot. But not this night. As far as this crowd was concerned, I might as well have been Sophie the Blow-up Doll, for all they cared about my pleasure.

At any rate, I didn't have much time to think about it, because while Dave was ramming his cock back and forth in my pussy, my head was pulled back, off the table, and another cock was pushed into my mouth. This cock quickly began to fuck my throat with hard thrusts that left me choking and gagging.

As this was going on, I felt two cocks fill my hands, and I instinctively wrapped them in my fist and began to jack them. I will say this much for them, they all had some fairly nice-sized cocks.

It took Dave about five minutes of furious humping to fill my pussy with his spunk, then he pulled out and the man who'd been ramming my throat came around and fucked me for about three minutes before he added his load to Dave's.

After they forced two more shots of whiskey down my throat, I felt my legs being lifted high, and Jack pushed his cock into my ass, with no warning or preparation at all. He didn't even bother to lube me up, other than the little bit of cum that had flowed out of my pussy. I howled in pain at the sudden intrusion, and that's when I began to realize that this was not going to be a good experience.

In spite of that, once Jack got going good, the pain subsided some and I started to feel an orgasm building in my guts. I slipped a hand down to my gushing cunt to massage my clit, and I vaguely heard them laughing at me, mocking me for enjoying such treatment. It wasn't that at all. I just realized that if I was going to get any pleasure out of what they were doing to me, it was going to be by my own hand.

Sure enough, as Jack filled my ass with cum, I shuddered as a pretty good climax ripped through me. As soon as Jack pulled out, he moved down to what he called his playroom to get ready to receive his guests.

I wasn't really aware of that. I had a big guy plowing a pretty big cock in my pussy, and I was finally starting to feel some sparks of lust as he filled me to the brim. He added his cum to the soup that was flowing out of my pussy and the last guy pulled me off the table, stood me up, bent me over the table and shoved his cock into my ass.

While he was fucking my ass, Dave was pouring more whiskey down my throat, and I was starting to feel quite drunk. This suited me. I figured the more numb I was, the less I would care about what they did to me.

That would be the case, but only up to a point.

After the last guy came in my ass, I was led, staggering, down a short flight of steps to the den, and there I was met by a stunning sight. The room was filled with approximately 30 men, all sitting or standing around the room naked, and most of them were sporting hard-ons of every size.

They all whooped and hollered when they saw my sweaty, naked body, which was dripping cum from my pussy and my ass.

I was positioned on a padded mat that had been laid on the floor in the middle of the room and told to kneel down to be "anointed," as Jack put it. That brought a chorus of laughter from the men who surrounded me, and I smiled wanly, trying to get into the spirit of things.

I wasn't sure how this was supposed to work, so I called a couple of men over and told them I wanted to suck their dicks. That produced another round of loud hurrahs and laughs.

Two guys with nice-sized cocks moved in front of me, and I took both of them in each hand and got down to business. I mean, I was a pro, and they'd paid for me, so I thought I owed them my best effort. I slid one cock into my mouth and began to work him back and forth. He was just long enough that he hit the entrance to my throat when he pushed all the way in.

The other guy was about the same length, but fatter, and I slobbered all over his fat meat. I went back and forth between these two, as their thrusts became more and more urgent, until they gasped and began to come.

They hit their climax about a split-second apart, with the one on my left shooting his cum across my forehead, my left eye and down my cheek. The other guy shot a good part of his load in my hair, down that side of my nose before shooting a wad onto my chest. I could feel their thick, hot cum dripping down my chin onto my chest as they backed away.

The cum party had officially begun.

Two more cocks materialized in front of me, ready for me to suck, and two other guys moved in next to them, on either side. Those two were apparently content to just masturbate as they watched me work between the two (very) average-sized cocks that were taking turns fucking my mouth.

Suddenly, from behind me, I felt my hips being pulled up and a quite sizable cock slid into my cum-filled pussy. This was a welcome diversion, in that I thought I might actually be able to reach an orgasm without doing it myself.

Apparently, watching me get fucked by a substantial cock was too much for the two guys who were doing themselves, because they suddenly exploded with huge cumshots. They criss-crossed both of my eyes with ropes of hot, stinging cum.

It wasn't but seconds after that before the guys who'd been fucking my mouth pulled out and jacked themselves hard. One plastered cum all over my face in a wide circular area, while the other shot off all over my breasts.

I happened to get a glimpse at the room, and felt a cold chill run up my spine. What had been a crowd of about 30 men had at least doubled, crowding into the room and totally defeating the ceiling fan that was the closest thing to air conditioning Jack had to offer. Even as I swept the room with my gaze, I could feel sweat covering my body.

Then a press of men surrounded me, and all I saw for the next couple of hours were naked men, hard cocks and hot cum.

I was just starting to feel a nice little orgasm build when the man who'd been fucking me pulled out and shot his cum over the small of my back, then he wiped the last dregs of his climax over my buttocks.

It wasn't long after the next man pushed his cock in me from behind that I did finally feel a solid orgasm rip through me, and when he came deep in me, I climaxed again.

Men and cocks were starting to come at me at a dizzying rate, frequently interspersed with shots from a whiskey bottle or a few gulps of beer. And my climaxes were few and far between, the longer the night went.

I felt cum being shot in thick coats from every direction. I had it flowing from my forehead, over my eyes, past my lips, in my hair, and it was splattered liberally over my small tits.

Men fucked my cunt and some filled it with cum, others pushed their cocks in my ass and filled that hole as well. Others who fucked me pulled out and covered my butt with their hot jizz.

I lifted my face to the ceiling as more cum was shot across my nose and over my lips, and I had cocks that were being forced into my mouth to fill my stomach with their hot cream.

All the time, I was being fed whiskey and beer, to the point where the room was just a fuzzy haze. The air was getting almost unbreathable, there was a terrific stench of sweat and cum, and the heat was almost intolerable.

And still they kept on coming - and cumming. At some point, I don't remember when, I had to lie back and close my eyes, to keep from getting sick. Even then, I felt the shower of semen splatter all over my body.

By then, most of them were cumming after sticking their cocks in one or the other of my wide-open holes. Either they fucked my red, swollen pussy, my gaping ass hole, or they pulled my head back and skull-fucked me.

They used me like I was just a cum dump, which, to them, I was. I think I might have orgasmed once or twice after that, just from sheer willpower. But my body seemed to be rejecting the kind of treatment I was getting that night, and, for the most part, I just laid there and took what they gave me, not caring whether I came or not. I just wanted the night to be over.

I really have no idea how many men showed up that night to fuck me and shoot their cum on me. I'm guessing anywhere from 100 to 150, but I have no way of really knowing.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 08



It truly was too much of what had been a good thing. A few months to a year earlier, I would have been out of my mind with lust, screaming out a string of orgasms and wallowing in all of the cum that was shot in me, on me and around me. But by the end of that night, I was nearly sick of the stuff.

The ordeal went on all night, until well past dawn. When it was over, I was covered with layer after layer of cum. Not one square inch of my body was uncovered, including my hair, which was drenched, and the soles of my feet. My pussy and my ass felt like an 18-wheeler had been driven up each hole, my jaw ached, and I felt nauseous. How I had managed to keep from throwing up was a minor miracle.

After the last guest departed, I finally stood up on wobbly legs and slippery feet. I was swaying from the effects of all the alcohol I'd consumed and the physical demands that my body had been subjected to.

I thought I was going to be able to get cleaned up, but that was when Jack Cornish showed his true colors. When I asked him about a shower, he looked at me like I was some dead bird his cat had brought home.

"You think I'm going to allow you to get cum all over my carpet?" he said. "Get your whore ass out of my house now, you fucking cunt."

I was stunned. But I didn't have any time to react, because he grabbed my arm and hustled me toward the door, while Dave fetched my clothes and my purse. As Jack pushed me out his back door naked, Dave literally threw my stuff out the door after me. As he pulled the door shut with a thud, I blew up.

"You sorry son of a bitch!" I yelled as I strode to the door and pounded it with my fist. "If you ever show your face at the bar again, I'll cut your fucking heart out and stuff it up your ass!"

From the other side of the door, I could hear them laughing, but I didn't care. I don't know that I've ever been as angry as I was at that moment. I didn't care that I was standing at this guy's back door in the early-morning light completely naked and covered all over with congealing semen. The motherfucker had used me for his and his friends' filthy pleasure, and all I had expected in return was a chance to clean up.

Thank God he lived on a fairly secluded lot, with no neighbors close by who might have been disturbed by my rant. Fuming, I turned around and pulled my dress on, and, of course, it stuck to my body like it was glued on as it absorbed the cum that covered me.

I got in my car and I almost broke down. Almost. But instead of crying, I let a wave of anger wash over me, and I let myself think homicidal thoughts about Jack Cornish.

I think Uncle Bill was even taken aback at my mood when I got home that morning. I informed him that if I ever saw Jack again that I'd kill him, and I think I would have. Fortunately, Jack never showed his face in Bill's Place again, at least not while I was there.

But my righteous wrath was symptomatic of the changes that were taking place in my life. I was starting to break out of that terrified little girl shell I'd always holed up in. The life my uncle had manipulated me into was starting to get to me, I was drinking way more than was good for me, and, as a result, I was becoming mean and irritable. In short, I was becoming my mother, and that was a disturbing thought.

Things were beginning to come to a head in my life, and the end of my days as a whore was fast approaching.



Me and My Uncle Ch. 09



As I began my senior year at the university, the relationship with my Uncle Bill was deteriorating noticeably.

We seemed to be fighting a lot, about everything. I was chafing under his authoritarian rule over my life, at least that part of it that affected him and his business, and he resented my increasingly independent attitude. I also think he was frightened of my educated status as a university student.

As a result, he kept giving me jobs that were degrading and humiliating, pushing me into more and more gangbang-style parties on weekends, and I was getting to where I hated them. I also didn't like the nightly parade of redneck drunks who trooped up the stairs to the apartment to use me in whatever way they wanted.

Such a life was stifling me, forcing me to limit my perspective to that little part of Missouri where I'd lived for the previous seven years. Exposure to the university setting had opened my eyes to the wider world, and I wanted to experience it.

But more and more, Uncle Bill was talking like he thought I was going to stay with him and be his whore indefinitely, and I was more determined than ever to prevent that from happening.

Critically, for me, in the fall semester of 1991, I took a class that opened my eyes to just how destructive prostitution was to the world in general.

By my fourth year of college, I was actually ahead of the game as far as my requirements for my degree in computer sciences. I actually had enough credits in the course of study to graduate early, in December, except that there was a senior projects class that I couldn't take until the spring semester.

So I had some free hours to fill with whatever classes struck my fancy, and Janelle talked me into joining her in taking a sociology class on feminist affairs. This was the notorious Lesbos 101, as the derogatory whispers called it, and there were quite a few lesbians in the class.

Yes, it turned out that the class did hit on several aspects of lesbianism, but really the class was a general history of women's affairs in Western society, and an overview of current issues specific to women in all societies.

And an early part of the curriculum was a study of prostitution throughout history, from Biblical times to the present, and the ways that it enslaved women. What it meant to me was that I was seeing my life with Uncle Bill in a whole new light, and I wasn't happy with what I saw.

Of course, no one on the Mizzou campus knew I had first-hand knowledge of the ins and outs of prostitution as it applied to rural America in 1991. Even Janelle didn't know what the job was that I always had to leave campus and go back home for.

At any rate, I think Uncle Bill could see his grip on me slipping away, so for the Labor Day holiday, he made a real bid to rewin my affection, and maybe regain his mastery over me.

Of course, his idea was that if he fucked me real good over a period of several days that I would be magically transported back to the naive, wide-eyed little girl of 18 who needed a man like him to take care of her.

By then, I was way beyond that point in my life, and he was the one who was naive if he thought that could resecure my dependence on him. Still, I went along, because it was a chance to get away from the monotony of fucking for my supper, to get away from the store for a few days.

Believe it or not, for all of the money that we'd made - and spent - we'd somehow never bothered to take any time off, never had taken a real vacation.

Uncle Bill was too driven to run the store and the bar and the prostitution business to take a vacation, so I was a little surprised when he started talking about a few days off.

He suggested that we leave the running of the store and the bar for the long weekend to Bertie, who was still faithfully coming in to work the store five days a week, and go off on a little fishing and camping expedition.

That actually didn't sound like a bad idea to me. I liked getting out in the woods, getting close to nature. Whenever I could, I had always liked to wander the wooded areas around the store, just losing myself and talking to God. It was one of my escape valves from the pressures of school and work.

Uncle Bill had a little johnboat with a couple of paddles and a trolling motor, and he'd often go out on the rivers and creeks to fish, which was his way of relaxing, I guess.

So it was that a little after noon on the Friday before Labor Day, we loaded up his pickup truck with camping and fishing gear, and headed south. Our destination was a river he knew about that he said was pretty secluded, where we could, "fish and fuck to our heart's content."

I should explain that over the three years that I'd been working as Uncle Bill's whore, our sexual relationship had continued, though not on a daily basis. But two or three times a month, usually on nights when I didn't work, he would call me over, we'd watch a porn video, then we'd fuck.

It usually had all of the passion of masturbation, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't still enjoy sex with my uncle. Although his was far from the biggest cock in my repertoire, he was bigger than most and he was always a very good fuck. He had a great deal of stamina, and on occasion, he was still good for seconds.

Like I said, there were a lot of deep-seated psychological reasons why I stayed with him, and why I submitted to him and the way he used me, and his ability to make me come was one of them.

Of course, I was still in thrall to sexual pleasure of every sort, even as I was starting to feel some unease at what I had to do.

So when he told me to strip and dance by the light of the bonfire we had going in our camp along the riverbank, I didn't hesitate. Fact is, by then, I was more than ready for Uncle Bill's hard cock.

We had driven a couple of hours to the spot he'd picked out, and it was indeed quite secluded, way back on a dirt road in National Forest land not far from Fort Leonard Wood, where I'd been born.

We'd set up the tent, gathered firewood, set up the camp table and fixed a big pot of camp stew, and the whole time we knocked back a steady flow of Buds. So we were both in, um, good spirits as night descended and we got the fire going.

It was a dark night, because it was a late-rising moon, so once we shut the lantern off, the flickering light of the fire was the only thing illuminating our camp site, and that gave everything a kind of other-worldly glow.

Uncle Bill was just sitting in a lawn chair, his eyes blazing as I tossed my tank top and shorts to the side and danced naked by the firelight. I had found a radio station that was playing contemporary dance hits - not necessarily my favorite kind of music - but it suited what we had in mind.

My body shone with perspiration, and my skin smelled of the combination of sweat, the deep-woods bug spray I'd covered myself with, and the juice of my arousal. I know that may not sound enticing, but in the context of the time and place, it worked like an aphrodisiac. I danced just like I did at the bars Bill often carried me to, when I would do a strip show, then fuck every man in the building.

But this was different - better, actually - because I was dancing naked outdoors under the wide-open sky. It was a heady feeling to be so free, so uninhibited. Looking back on it, I realize that in all the time I spent living with my uncle, I was never so free as I was in that moment.

I looked over at Uncle Bill, and he was squeezing his obviously rock-hard cock through his cut-offs, so I strutted over until I was shimmying right in front of him.

"Go on, Uncle Bill, take it out," I purred. "Show me how much you appreciate what I'm doing for you. Show me that big, hard cock."

I was in a zone of mindless sensuality that I had often reached before, as I swayed to the pulsing beat of the music. I ran my hands up and down my sweaty body, sensually twirling my stiff nipples between my fingers.

Uncle Bill stared at me in silence as he unbuttoned his shorts and slid them down his legs. His big hard cock flopped up on his naked chest, high and proud, and he immediately grabbed it by the base and held it upright, pointing it at me.

I stared back as he slowly stroked it up and down, and watched a thick ball of pre-cum well from the tip. I swayed to the music as I slowly dropped to my knees, my gaze locked on his throbbing meat.

God help me, as much of a scumbag as my uncle was, there were moments when he was the most intoxicating lover I ever had, and this was one of those moments. Even though I had worked the night before, fucking about a dozen men in succession, I wanted that big cock any way I could get it.

I brought my face in close to Bill's cock and inhaled his powerful, manly aroma.

"Yeah, go on, suck my cock, Sophie," Bill said in a low voice filled with lust. "Show me how much you love cock. Show me like a good whore."

I did as I was bidden. I took his cock from his grasp, opened my mouth wide and slowly slid the head into my mouth. I worked about half of him in and out of my hot mouth, savoring the taste of him, and swirled my tongue around the shaft to give him maximum pleasure.

I worked my head up and down, slipping a little more of him into my throat with each deep plunge, and at that point I couldn't decide what I wanted more, his cum in my mouth or his cum in my cunt.

I was squatting between his widespread legs, giving him my best deep throat, sucking him just like he'd taught me. I had one hand wrapped around the base of his throbbing cock and the other working furiously in my juicy, swollen pussy.

I felt the head of his cock pushing past the opening of my throat, and I could feel a thick stream of drool flowing past my lips as I sucked his cock hungrily.

I was just about to explode, and I could sense that Uncle Bill was as well. Our minds were so in tune at that moment, that I pulled my mouth away just at the same moment he grabbed my head to pull me off of him.

"Fuck me!" I panted loudly, as the firelight reflected on my sweat-slick body.

Keeping a tight grip on his cock, I straddled my uncle's hips as he sat in the camp chair looking steadily at me with a fiery look in his eyes. I fit the head of his dick to my gushing cunt and lowered my hips, impaling myself on his hot rod.

We both groaned loudly as I felt his big cock scud up my flooded canal. I quickly got my hips up to speed, working up and down in a frenzy as my climax came to a quick, violent head. I could feel Bill's hands gripping me tightly by my hips, controlling my motions in an effort to prolong the delicious agony of our coupling.

I was moaning and cursing, willing him to fill me with his hot creamy cum. I could feel myself slipping over the edge into orgasmic madness, as my climax began to consume me.

With a violent shudder, I felt my insides explode, my cunt twitching spastically. From somewhere far away, I heard Uncle Bill gasp out something incoherent, and I felt his cock swell a split-second before he spewed a hard series of cumshots deep in my pussy. His thick, hot cum flowed out around his churning cock as he spent himself in me.

I clung onto my uncle with a passion I hadn't felt for him in quite some time. Again, I say, if our life together had had more of those moments and less of the manipulative, abusive moments, I probably never would have left him.

Our breath came in deep, heaving gasps as we slowly come down from the mountain. Bill's cock slowly wilted and slithered out of me, followed by a stream of his creamy cum, mixed with the flow of my arousal.

"You know, Sophie, I do love you," Bill said quietly. "Don't ever forget that."

"Then why do you treat me like you do sometimes?" I answered. "Uncle Bill, I try to do everything you ask of me, but it gets hard sometimes. There are times when I just want to stop the world and get off."

"You'll be fine," he said cryptically, as he gently pushed me off of him so he could get up and pee. He said it like that was supposed to mollify me, like it was the last word. But it wasn't going to be. I made up my mind then and there that sometime that weekend we were going to talk candidly about my future.

It was a decision that had disastrous consequences.

But that would come later. We sat up for awhile playing with the fire, listening to the radio - which we'd changed to a more conventional rock station - and drinking a few more beers. We talked a little, but avoided the subject of my future.

Finally, I crawled in the tent and fell asleep. Sometime later, I sensed Uncle Bill come in and lie next to me. He pressed his naked body against mine, and I vaguely remember him sliding his fingers between my legs and stroking my juicy cunt, but I was tired and more than a little drunk, and soon slipped back into a deep slumber.

Uncle Bill was already up brewing coffee and frying bacon when I awoke early the next morning. He'd slid on his shorts, but I was still feeling the rush from being naked in the great outdoors, so I sashayed to the water's edge and took a quick skinny dip to get cleaned up a little bit.

When I was finished, I coolly braided my wet hair, put it up under a bandanna, then dug out my bikini. It was a pretty skimpy piece of work, with a couple of small triangles of cloth with strings to tie around the neck and in back to (barely) cover my tits, and very scanty bottoms that tied on the side.

I planned on getting a nice tan while we leisurely boated up and down the river, and I wanted as little in the way of tan lines as possible. I've been blessed with a dusky complexion, and I can tan easily. Which is good, because I didn't get a lot of opportunities to just sit and sun during that period in my life.

After breakfast, we loaded up the boat with the cooler, our fishing gear, tanning oil and sunscreen, and a few other items and headed off up the river.

It was a fairly slow-moving river, so we could move upstream using the trolling motor without a lot of difficulty. While Uncle Bill steered us up the river, I slathered on a generous coating of suntan lotion, then leaned back and let the sun kiss my nearly naked body.

We'd been out about an hour when we found a little cove and pulled in. Bill pulled us up to where a tree had fallen in the water, and he had me tie us off. The water here was about 15 feet deep, and the fishing was excellent.

Uncle Bill had taught me how to fish when I'd first moved in with him, so knew the basics. I didn't fish very often, so I wasn't real good, but anybody could have caught fish in this spot. We fished for about an hour, and caught a good number of bass and bream. Most of them were too small to keep, but we still had about a dozen in the basket when we decided to move on.

It was only about 10 o'clock when I got in the cooler and fished out my first beer of the day. Drinking before noon was a rare privilege for me, but it was hot and I was thirsty, so I figured, why not?

We motored up the river a little further before the stream narrowed, so we turned around and shut off the trolling motor in order to save the battery that provided the motor's power. Uncle Bill paddled and I drank while we floated back down the river.

I put on another coat of tanning lotion, and felt my skin tingle as I ran my hands over my body. The beer, the sun and the slick lotion all combined to make me very horny.

Finally, about noon, we found a sand bar and pulled in. Bill wanted to do some river fishing, and I wanted to swim a little, then lie back and get some serious sun. We swam, ate sandwiches and drank a beer, then I grabbed the blanket from the boat, spread it out and reapplied my tanning lotion.

I lay on my back for awhile, then rolled onto my stomach and started to doze off. I was just at the point between wakefulness and sleep when I felt the touch of a man's hand on my butt. I started, then relaxed when I realized it was just my uncle.

But I felt a shiver when I saw the look in his eyes and felt the way he was running his hands over my hot skin. I let out a long, low groan as his fingers found the gusset of my bikini bottoms and delved into my boiling pussy. I realized that I was bubbling over with my arousal, and I gasped when Bill's fingers found my suddenly swollen clit.

Deftly, his fingers moved out of me, but only long enough for him to pull the strings that held my bathing suit on me. I looked back at him again and spoke for the first time.

"You're not thinking of doing it here, are you?" I said in a voice husky with lust.

"Absolutely," my uncle said, with laughter in his voice. "Why not? I'm horny, you're horny, and we're here under the hot summer sun. Sure, I want to do it right here. In fact, I want to fuck your ass right here, maybe show you off to anybody who passes. You'd like that, wouldn't you."

Part of me was mortified at the thought of him fucking my ass there in front of whomever, but part of me was incredibly turned on by the idea. But whatever I thought of the idea was a moot point, because even as the thought crossed my mind, I felt my hips being pulled up from the blanket, so that I was on my knees.

Before I could react in any way, I felt the hot spear of Bill's dick slide into my dripping-wet cunt. Just the feeling of his cock entering my hot depths was enough to light the fuse on my climax. I groaned loudly and thrust my hips back to get as much of my uncle's big hard cock in my pussy as I could.

At that point, I didn't care who came by; I just wanted Uncle Bill to keep fucking me. Once he got into a smooth, steady rhythm, I felt him reach down and pick up the bottle of lotion. He squeezed out a generous dollop down the crack of my ass and began to work two fingers steadily in my rectum.

I think he was waiting for me to beg for him to put his cock in my ass, because he kept working his fingers in my ass and his cock in my pussy until I was at the point where I was about to explode. My naked body was covered with a nasty sheen of oil and sweat as we fucked like rabbits right there at river's edge.

I wasn't proud. At that point, I wanted his cock in my ass like you wouldn't believe, so I gave Bill what he wanted.

"Oh God!" I squealed. "Fuck my ass, PLEASE! God, fuck me, fuck my ass!"

With that, Bill slid his cock from my burning cunt, and pressed the head of his cock to my slimy asshole. It didn't take much pushing before his dick slipped smoothly past my anus and into my ass.

I howled as his hard cock began to pump back and forth in my spastic ass, and I quickly reached under my body to strum my bloated clit. I could feel an orgasm of gargantuan proportions picking up steam in my body.

Uncle Bill fucked my ass with strong, steady strokes, and I could feel big drops of sweat splatter on my back as he worked.

Finally, he pulled out of my ass, gasping for breath in the hot air. He rolled over onto his back, his big, purple cock jutting up to the clear blue sky. I turned around and almost jumped out of my skin.

Standing on the far bank of the river was a young man in his early 20s, just staring at us. His jeans were bunched around his ankles while he worked a fairly large cock in his right hand.

Once I got over my initial shock, however, my whorish training kicked in, helped along by my uncle.

"C'mon, Sophie, sit your hot ass back on my cock," he growled. "Show that guy what a good whore you are. Give him a good show, and maybe I'll invite him to our camp later so he can fuck you too."

I wasn't too keen on that, but I still hadn't climaxed, and I was beyond the point of caring who saw what we were doing. I squatted down over Uncle Bill's hips, while he held his cock straight up in the air, and pushed my open ass over the head of his cock and let him fill me again.

While I worked my ass up and down on Bill's throbbing-hard cock, I reached between my legs and began to rub my pussy hard, concentrating on my pulsing clit. I looked out through my shades and just stared at the guy across the river, licking my lips seductively as his fist began to pick up speed. I had a clear view of the red head of his cock peeking out of his fist as he stroked himself in a frenzy of lust.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 09



I was moaning deliriously, panting out my appreciation of how good my uncle's big cock felt as he rammed it up and down in my twitching ass.

The whole scenario was surreal. Here I was under the clear, hot summer sky, with my uncle's cock buried in my ass, vigorously working my hands in my dripping pussy, while some farmer jacked off as he watched us fuck.

It was too much. I threw my head back and squealed loudly as my orgasm exploded through my body. I felt Uncle Bill's hands cupping my ass as he worked me harder and faster on his cock. I could hear him gasping as he began to hit his nut strokes.

Through the haze of my climax, I looked out just in time to see our watcher spew several explosive arcs of cum from the end of his dick. I don't know if Bill could see him, but seconds later I felt his hips lurch upward, followed by a volcano of hot, creamy cum. My body shuddered as he filled my ass with his seed, and I used my experienced rectal muscles to milk him of every drop he had to give me.

Slowly, our orgasmic twittering subsided until I finally slumped back onto Bill's chest, spent for the moment, and he wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I looked up through lust-glazed eyes and noticed that our audience had departed, a development that didn't terribly disappoint me.

As I gradually got my breathing under control, my uncle's cock slowly wilted until it oozed out of my anus. That was my cue to climb slowly to my feet and stagger toward the water.

I got a mini-rush out of the way the cum slowly flowed out of my distended ass and down the insides of my legs as I waded into the river. Like I've said repeatedly, in my prime I was a nasty little whore, even as I was beginning to seek a way out of that life.

I swam naked in the river, and soon Bill joined me. We frolicked in the water like the lovers we could have been, if he hadn't been so possessive and obsessed with using me. We cooled off and cleaned up a little bit, then we made ourselves decent, packed up and headed back toward our camp.

We both continued sucking down beers in the hot summer sun, and soon my head was spinning. It wasn't a moment too soon that our campsite came into view and I staggered out of the boat toward our tent.

I took a long nap while Uncle Bill cleaned and dressed our fish, and the whole time he continued to drink a steady flow of beer. When I finally woke up, the sun was low in the sky and the smell of fish cooking on the grill wafted over our campsite.

Despite the pleasant aroma, I was feeling grumpy, the way a person does when they've put on a drunk under the heat of the sun, then quit for awhile. And Uncle Bill was showing signs of being seriously drunk.

He could pack away some beer, so he wasn't stumbling drunk. But I'd been around him long enough to know the signs that he was getting pretty intoxicated. He was talking in clipped tones, he seemed a little surly and he was looking at me in a funny way.

Why I picked that moment to ask him what he planned to do the next spring when I moved away following graduation, I'll never know. He just stared at me like I had lost my mind.

"What the fuck are you talkin' about?" he asked incredulously, and not a little belligerently. I knew immediately that I had made a mistake. But instead of retreating into my timid mode, the way I almost always did when confronted with Bill in this mood, I pushed. I was in a pretty sour mood also, and I guess I was looking for a fight.

"I'm talking about when I graduate and go off to work at a real job," I said. "I'm not going to be your whore forever, I'm not going to stay in Bumfuck, Missouri the rest of my life, and you'd better start getting ready for it."

"Shit, girl, we've got us a fucking gravy train going, why in the hell would you want to stop now?" he said.

"Because I'm getting tired of BEING the fucking gravy train," I said, rather louder than I intended. "I'm the one who's having to fuck for this train, not you. It's my pussy, my ass, my mouth that gets used, not yours, and I'm getting tired of it."

"You lie," he said, and at that an evil grin creased his face. "You weren't tired of it this afternoon on the riverside. You wanted me to fuck your hot little ass, begged me for it. You can't live without cock, so don't lie to me like that."

"You promised me that if I worked for you for four years, you'd let me go," I said, now feeling a little desperation. I was afraid to admit that maybe he was right.

"And maybe I lied," he said, with a finality that hit me like a sledgehammer. "You ain't quittin'. Shit, you wouldn't know what to do if you weren't fucking every night. You wouldn't know what to do if'n you didn't have me to look after you. You can't make it on your own, and you know it."

"Bullshit!" I cried, then turned and walked off down the riverbank. I could feel the sobs building, but I fought them down.

I had broken my vow from years earlier that I would be strong-willed and not to cry about anything. Back in February when Caleb Binion, my friend the sheriff's deputy, was killed, I had been inconsolable, because I knew instinctively that I no longer had any protection from the predators on the county police force.

And the idea that Uncle Bill was reneging on his promise to let me go after four years had me on the verge of tears again. But I stifled them, tamped them down with grim determination.

It was almost dark when I returned to camp. On my long walk, I thought out a lot of things, and came to some bedrock decisions.

The first and most important decision was that I needed to quit drinking. I was slowly, but surely descending down the same path my mother had taken years earlier. I had managed to avoid drugs, for the most part, but I could see that resolve crumbling the heavier my drinking became.

The other major decision I made that night was that I WAS going to leave Missouri after I graduated. I wasn't going to let Uncle Bill use me indefinitely. I would hold up my end of the bargain, and be his fuck toy for as long as I was in college. But once I got that diploma, I was out of there. I was determined to show him that he was wrong, that I could make it on my own, without him to "look after me."

And once I was out of my uncle's clutches, I made up my mind that I wasn't going to be used by men - or women - for sex, like I had been my whole life, as far back as Schlutzie. I didn't anticipate a long period of celibacy, but I resolved to have sex on my terms, not those of others.

Uncle Bill had eaten, and had left me a plate full of his grilled fish. I had to admit that it was delicious, even if it wasn't hot off the grill. As I ate, I rolled over in my mind how I was going to proceed with my uncle.

One other decision I made on my walk through the woods was that I was going to make an effort to not be confrontational with him.

Now that I knew his intentions, I knew I had to be very careful about how I acted, and not let my true thoughts and feelings show. I was going to have to put on an act of contrition, while I carefully made my preparations to get away from him when the time came.

So after I had eaten, after I had pulled some ice water out of the cooler, I apologized to my uncle for the way I had spoken. I had to swallow my pride as I did it, because I was still upset about what he'd said about me. But it had to be done, so I did it.

Like I said at the start, I'm a survivor, and if groveling at my uncle's feet helped me survive, that's what I was going to do. He seemed to accept it, at least in his twisted way.

We built another bonfire, then brought the air mattress out onto the clearing. As he stared at me, I did another little strip show, and it was almost like the night before, except that my heart wasn't as into it like the previous night.

But I faked it pretty good. When I was naked, I knelt on the mattress and beckoned for him to shuck his shorts and join me.

His hard cock thrust out in front of him as he did what I asked. We kissed hard, and despite my feelings, I could feel the old tingling in my pussy that told me I was going to enjoy this whether I wanted to or not.

Uncle Bill lay on his back, and I rolled on top of him in a 69 position, my knees astride his head. I felt his fingers pry open my slippery cunt, followed closely by his lips and tongue. I groaned - legitimately - as he began to work his mouth on my pussy.

I turned back to the throbbing-hard cock that was aimed at the starry night sky. I opened my mouth wide and slid the head past my lips, working them in a circular motion, while my tongue danced in circles around the hard shaft.

Our mouths were humming as we gave each other mutual pleasure. His tongue ventured upward to bathe my ass, which was still a little red and sore from its earlier workout, while I worked his cock ever deeper in my mouth.

When I felt him start twitching just a little, we once again showed the telepathy of longtime sex partners - I would hesitate at that point to call us lovers - as we both pulled our mouths away from the other's crotch almost simultaneously.

Bill rolled me onto my back, then crawled between my legs. When he looked down on me, I knew I wasn't going to completely get away with defying him like I had earlier. There was a hard look on his face as he knelt between my outstretched legs, holding his cock in his fist like a weapon.

"Tell me what you want, whore," he growled, and the sound sent a chill up my spine. "Tell me you want this cock in your sweet little pussy. Come on, bitch! Beg for it."

This time, I knew better than to defy him. I reached between my legs, opened my sodden pussy lips and did as I was told.

"Fuck me, Uncle Bill," I whispered. "Fuck me with your big fat cock."

"And what are you?" he taunted me. "Tell me what you are."

"I'm your whore," I said softly. "I'm your cock-sucking, cum-loving whore."

I couldn't help it. A tear slowly slid from my eye at the degradation he was demanding of me. Gone was the playful lover that he'd been on the riverside, gone was the man who wanted to rewin my affection. He was a pimp, and I was his slut. Period.

I realized - if I hadn't a thousand times already - that it had always been like that, even before I made my deal with him. Maybe he loved me, but it wasn't for me. Instead, he loved me for what he could squeeze out of me, for what I could bring in for him.

"Don't you ever fucking forget it," he snarled as he rammed his cock in my pussy, all the way to the hilt in one breathtaking thrust.

I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist and fucked him back with as much power I could muster, not because I necessarily wanted to, but from force of habit. It was what I did. A man put his cock in me and we fucked, nothing more, nothing less.

I had learned a long time ago how to make my body appear to enjoy mechanical fucking, and that's what I did that night in the woods, as the campfire flickered around me, and the sounds of the crickets and the birds filled the dark, moonless night. I put my mind and body on autopilot and let my uncle fuck me for as long as he needed.

But it took him awhile. Unlike a lot of men, beer didn't necessarily inhibit his sex drive. Up to a certain point, he could get a hard-on when he was fairly drunk, and then it was like the alcohol pickled his dick. It stayed hard forever, and finally, just from the sheer friction of his cock on my clit, I did manage to climb toward an orgasm.

So I redoubled my efforts, working my sweaty, still-oily body around his, and finally he picked up the pace. He hooked the backs of my knees with his elbows, so that my ankles were around his neck, and he pounded my pussy hard and fast.

Like two bugs in a hot skillet, we fucked frantically, if a bit woodenly, until I arched my back in the throes of a modest climax, and Uncle Bill lunged forward, driving his cock to the deepest part of me. With a loud grunt, Bill jerked hard and his cum exploded out the end of his cock to fill my pussy with his wet load.

Afterward, after he disengaged himself from me without a single word of endearment, I pulled the mattress back into the tent, put the sheets back on it, crawled in and fell asleep. It wasn't a restful sleep, though. My slumber was filled with nightmares, of men using me remorselessly, causing me pain, until I felt myself spinning into a dark whirlpool.

I woke up in a panting, sweaty panic. It was late in the night, and the moon had just risen. What there was of it bathed the night in a ghostly glow, and I could hear the snores from my uncle, lying on the mattress next to me. He was oblivious to the emotional torment I had been through.

Little did I realize that many of those nightmares would become terrifyingly real.

We broke camp the next morning in a strained silence. A gulf had been opened up between me and my uncle, and as the weeks and months passed, it would grow deeper and wider.

I didn't completely quit drinking, but I cut it down to a rarity, and when I did drink, it wasn't much. It's been that way ever since. I might drink a beer or a cocktail once or twice a month at some function, or out at dinner with Ron. But two is my absolute limit.

I was less successful in hiding my true feelings from my uncle, and we alternated between heated arguments and icy silence. More and more, I hated him for enticing me into the degrading life of a whore, and more for making a promise he wasn't willing to keep.

Our relationship had taken a critical, downward turn, and it led inexorably to a fateful climax that nearly killed me.



Me and My Uncle Ch. 10



It was a rainy weekend in April, 1992, not long before I was scheduled to graduate from Mizzou, that my luck began to run out.

Even now, 13 years afterward, I still get a chill when I think back to that weekend. For four years as my Uncle Bill's whore, I had managed to skate through without running into any true psychos, without encountering any bondage freaks, without being truly physically abused.

That all ended in mid-April when Uncle Bill arranged a weekend for me with one Curtis Miller. What that man did to me that weekend was the trigger that brought my days as a whore to an end, but not before I had to endure several shades of hell, first from Curtis and then from Uncle Bill.

This part of my story isn't pleasant at all, but it's necessary that I tell it, so you'll understand why I had do what I did to get away from my uncle and flee Missouri as if my life was at stake, because it was.

I never learned how Uncle Bill met Curtis Miller, because they appeared to run in two completely different circles. My uncle was country to the core, without a lot of education or sophistication, a man who made his living as a humble storekeeper, barowner and pimp.

Curtis Miller, on the other hand, was one of the most powerful men in the state, a senator from somewhere down in the Bootheel who had spent a dozen years in the Legislature. He was a lawyer by trade, and he owned a big secluded house in the country outside Jeff City. He was around 40, with an aura of power, and - as I learned right from the start - a considerable amount of menace.

By this time, my uncle and I were barely on speaking terms. Ever since the Labor Day trip, our relationship had gotten more and more strained as our tastes diverged.

Uncle Bill was drinking a lot more than he ever had before, and he was spending a lot of time in Jeff City, much of it with a tough crowd at Cosmo's and at other dives. And his sexual tastes were getting a lot kinkier, which is probably where he encountered Curtis.

One of the last times I had sex with my uncle was right before New Year's, and it scared the hell out of me.

He had gotten a call the day before from a guy he described as an old buddy of his from the Air Force, and had gone off that day to meet him in Kansas City. He had planned to spend the night in the city, so they could go out partying.

I was supposed to be off that night, so I had kept the bar closed, and was anticipating a blessedly quiet night by myself, when I heard someone trooping up the stairs. Seconds later, Uncle Bill came roaring in with his friend, whom he introduced as Kyle.

Kyle was a fairly nondescript-looking fellow of average size, except for a bit of a beer belly. He had sandy-blond hair with a mustache and sideburns. They both had a fiery look in their eyes that told me they were pretty lit, and I began to get a funny feeling in my gut.

They had decided not to stay in the city because the weather had turned bad and Bill wanted to make it home while the roads were still open. He had invited Kyle to come with him, and he didn't have to explain why. I could tell from the leering look I was getting that Uncle Bill had told his friend all about me.

Ever since the Labor Day fiasco, I had been able to avoid Uncle Bill's advances on a pretty regular basis, either by working, getting away to Columbia to study or claiming I was on my period.

But it was snowing hard and I couldn't get out of the apartment, it was between semesters so I couldn't claim I was studying, and he knew I wasn't on my period. So I was stuck, and, frankly, I was a little horny and I figured there wasn't much they'd dare do to me.

Once they got settled in, with the help of a handy six-pack from the store's cooler, Bill told me about a shop they'd found in one of the seedier areas of the city. Along with videos, magazines and sex toys, the store sold erotic clothes, and he had found and bought an outfit he wanted me to model for them.

It was a leather strapless bustier, complete with a slit at the crotch, and knee-high boots. I was a little uneasy as he showed it to me, because of the unusually excited look in my uncle's eyes as he handed it to me.

I was also a little apprehensive because he wanted me to "doll myself up," in a manner that I usually reserved for special clients. Besides the heavy, whorish makeup, I was instructed to slick my hair real good and pull it back in a tight bun.

In spite of my nagging concerns, I have to admit that I was feeling my arousal begin to build once I got the outfit on and fixed my makeup. The way the gusset of the outfit exposed my sex was quite stimulating, as well as the snug fit of the outfit. The top of the one-piece outfit barely covered my nipples, and the way it was made enhanced what little bust I had.

In any other situation, I would have felt very sexy indeed appearing with this outfit on my body.

They were sitting at the table when I emerged from my little bedroom, and they both gave me an appreciative whistle. I strutted in front of them and studied their eyes, and the way they were each kneading their crotches, squeezing their hard cocks through their jeans.

Kyle was especially goggle-eyed, and I got the distinct impression that he was someone who didn't get laid all that often. I decided to give them a little show, so I pulled the material off my tits, licked a forefinger in a very seductive manner, then took the finger and circled my rock-hard nipples with it.

I cupped my little breasts in each hand, not caring that my girlish mounds were a far cry from those of the strippers they had undoubtedly been anticipating that night.

I sashayed up to where they were sitting and they each wrapped an arm around me and ran their hands over my body. I gasped as Kyle's fingers slid between my wet pussy lips and he entered my hot depths. Another hand reached up and groped my tits, and I could feel my concerns slipping away as my arousal climbed.

At that point, I suggested that we retire to the bedroom, where we could have some room to play in a little warmer area. The main den of the apartment tended to be a little drafty in winter, but the bedroom I still shared with my uncle could get pretty toasty once the door was shut.

Once we were in the room, Uncle Bill and his friend shucked their clothes, and they were both bursting hard. Kyle's cock was like the rest of him, relentlessly average, about 6 inches and of modest thickness. I squatted on the floor, took both cocks in hand and worked them until a hot dollop of pre-cum boiled out the tips.

Once I had them to that point, I slid Kyle's cock into my mouth, all the way in one thrust. His length was an easy fit, and I gave him my best professional blowjob, rolling my tongue around his shaft. I sawed his dick between my lips, licking the underside, then crammed him back in my mouth.

Kyle gave out a strained groan, and Uncle Bill laughed wickedly at that.

"Didn't I tell you it would be worth the trip," Bill said. "I told you my niece is the best cocksucker in the whole state of Missouri. Aren't you, dear."

That really threw a bit of a wet blanket on my arousal. I wasn't sure if he was complimenting me or mocking me, and it really didn't matter. I was tired of those kind of "compliments" from my uncle. I was weary of being known as the best fuck, the best suck, the best whore in the area.

A few years earlier, my self-esteem had been such that I believed that being a whore was all I was good for, that sex was what defined me. But the previous months, I had developed other relationships outside my uncle's circle, and I had developed other skills, other talents besides sex. I had begun to realize that I had a lot more to give than just my body for the lust of others, that I was more than what was between my legs.

I think Uncle Bill noticed the change in my body language as he spoke, because he pulled my head roughly off Kyle's cock and rammed his cock past my lips and into my throat. I think the viciousness of the way Bill attacked my mouth took Kyle aback a little bit, because for the first time I saw a worried look on his face.

But Uncle Bill was oblivious.

"Play with yourself, whore," he growled. "Show Kyle here what a real horny slut you really are. Show him!"

I did as I was told, slipping a finger between my bubbling lips and rubbing my swollen clit with my right hand, while my left hand continued to softly stroke Kyle's cock. Bill's cock kept up a relentless pace in my mouth, and I could barely keep from gagging on it, my experience notwithstanding.

Abruptly, Bill wrenched his cock from my mouth, and I gave several heaving gasps of air while he maneuvered me onto the bed, on my knees. I had barely gotten into position when Bill aimed the head of his cock at my opening and pushed himself into my pussy with one screaming thrust.

"C'mon, buddy, get up here and let my niece show you how much she likes to suck cock and eat cum," Bill said, panting as he gripped my hips and fucked me with a wildness he hadn't exhibited in a long time.

Kyle lay back on the bed in front of me, his cock slightly wilted after he'd seen the way Uncle Bill was treating me. But it came right back to life when I took it by the base and fed it back into my mouth. I gave Kyle's throbbing hardness my full attention, although it wasn't easy with the way Bill was pounding my pussy.

In spite of my anger at the way he was doing me, I could feel my climax beginning to reignite from the friction of Bill's cock on my clit. But he wasn't going to make it easy on me.

"Show Kyle what a dirty, filthy whore you are," Bill said roughly. "Get down there and lick his ass. Rim his butt good, like the filthy slut you know you are."

I felt a hot flash of rage at his request, but I didn't have a chance to react, because he gripped the back of my neck and pushed me toward the junction of Kyle's legs, where his hairy butthole was located. Fuming, I managed to get Kyle's legs up in the air and put my face between his cheeks.

This was something I'd had to do for Uncle Bill a few times before, along with a few other clients, and I hated it. To me, there was nothing more demeaning than being forced to lick a man's sweaty asshole. Fortunately, Kyle was relatively clean back there, and I licked him all over and felt his cock twitch in my fist as I opened him up with my tongue.

I could tell that the sight of my tongue working in his friend's ass put a charge in Uncle Bill, too, because his thrusts back and forth in my cunt became, if anything, harder and more frantic. Kyle was writhing on the bed as I returned to his cock and inhaled his boner.

I was just in time. As I worked my head up and down in a vigorous motion, Kyle stiffened and I felt his cock spew a hard, thick load of cum. He filled my mouth with his creamy heat and I swallowed all of his tasty seed as he slumped back on the bed.

Seconds later, I heard Bill grunt hard as he exploded with a half-dozen or more jets of cum deep in my pussy. He pushed his cock to the hilt and emptied himself in my womb, basting my slot with a really thick, copious amount of semen.

Of course, I was left high and dry, as my orgasm had been shredded with stops and starts. I had just gotten back on track when they both came, so I was still horny, and frustrated, as their cocks began to soften.

It was after the men had come down to earth a little bit that Uncle Bill made his suggestion that it might be a real turn-on for them to tie me to the bedposts, and take time to, as he put it, " really light your fire."

I think maybe he thought that if he brought it up when I was in need of an orgasm, that I might be more accepting of his suggestion. But as frustrated and as needy as I was at the moment, I wasn't about to willingly accept such an act. Fact is, I freaked out. I screamed hysterically, called him a pervert and begged him to please never, ever make me do something like that.

Of course, I was still pissed off at the way he'd treated me, making me rim Kyle's ass and fucking me so roughly. But there was more to it than that.

Just the idea brought back a flood of bad memories from my three years in the juvenile school back in Oklahoma. One of the worst things those girls ever did to me was tie me up one night and torment me for hours on end. It had a lot to do with a sense of claustrophobia, and a loss of control that terrified me.

Little did I know.

Anyway, Uncle Bill backed off, especially when Kyle told him that it was OK, that I didn't have to do that. I wonder what would have happened if Uncle Bill's friend hadn't been there to provide a restraint on him.

"Well, I know you didn't cum," Bill said. "So why don't you give us a show. Let Kyle here see that horny, cum-filled pussy get a workout."

Still trembling with emotion, I reluctantly rolled onto my back and hesitantly ran my hands over my body. Like a magnet, one of my hands found my cunt, and my throbbing clit. I rolled my bud around with a finger and felt the sparks of lust beginning to build.

I closed my eyes and tried to think pleasurable thoughts of sex, rather than the roughness of the recently completed encounter. While one finger massaged my clit, I thrust two fingers of my other hand into my gooey cunt and fucked myself with them. Quickly, the feelings began to mount, but it was taking me awhile.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Bill and Kyle kneeling on either side of me, jacking their cocks furiously as they watched me work both hands in my pussy. I didn't care whether my uncle ever fucked me again, but I felt like I should at least give Kyle a taste of my pussy, especially since he seemed to be a fairly decent guy.

"C'mon, Kyle, come on down and put your cock in me," I whispered. "I can make you feel a lot better than your hand."

He didn't hesitate, but scrambled between my legs and shoved his cock in my cunt. After Uncle Bill's big cock, Kyle's relatively smaller dick didn't do much for me, but just having a fleshy stalk in my spastic pussy sent my climax to a peak.

I arched my back as a modest orgasm crashed through my body, followed hard on the heels by an explosion of cum as Kyle shot off in my twitching cunt. I looked up just in time to see Uncle Bill reach his nut strokes, and he gasped as he shot a second large load all over my face.

He shot streaks of cum on either side of my nose and across my eyes, then stuffed the still-spurting head between my lips so I could suck out the last dregs of his climax.

After that night, I began to spend more and more nights in my old little bed, especially nights I worked. I wanted to give him as little chance as possible to use me like I suspected he wanted to use me.

We had sex twice more after that, and both times it amounted to something close to rape. He finally got tired of me putting him off, so one night in March, he just took me when he came home drunk and I was asleep after having worked through a succession of men.

Our last sexual encounter I'll tell you about later, because it was what finally drove me to leave him once and for all.

By April, I was spending a lot of nights in Columbia, enjoying the comfort of Janelle's love and working hard on my senior project. I was also talking to recruiters for various companies about going to work for them after I graduated.

I had gotten friendly with a lady at the university's placement office, a Mrs. Lasko, who was impressed with my portfolio, liked my attitude and who was steering me toward some very good offers. I also had a good advisor and a couple of well-placed professors who were in my corner.

In other words, I had finally started developing a support network that I could use to help me when I got out on my own. And there was no question I was going to go, even though I had not broached the subject with my uncle since the Labor Day encounter.

Trying to finish my course work and finish it with a flourish was causing me to miss a lot of nights working the upstairs apartment. Uncle Bill had, in fact, recruited a couple of the local barflies to fill in for me when I didn't come home from a hard day on campus.

But that didn't sit well with my uncle, and we argued about it constantly. He wanted me for his whore, like always, not some skanky local girl. Whenever he mentioned picking up the pace after school was out, I just changed the subject, which pissed him off even more. I think he set up the thing with Curtis Miller as an attempt to teach me a lesson.

I learned a lesson, all right, but it wasn't the one he intended for me to learn.

That Thursday, I called him to say I wasn't going to come home until late, that I had a symposium to attend, and he was strangely nonchalant about it.

"That's OK," he said pleasantly. "But be ready to work through the weekend. I have a special client that wants you for the weekend, beginning tomorrow. Sophie, he's paying top dollar - in advance - for you, so I want you on your best behavior. This man can steer us into a whole new clientele, a group that will put us on Easy Street."

I felt an odd sense of foreboding at that. It indicated to me that he was completely oblivious to the idea of me leaving after I graduated. Moreover, it sounded like he intended to drag me even deeper into prostitution, at the very moment when I was trying to work my way out of it altogether.

The next afternoon when I returned to the apartment, Uncle Bill was strangely excited. He showed me a cashier's check in the amount of $3,000 that Curtis Miller had sent him. That was Senator Curtis Miller, as it read on the check.

Again, I felt a little flutter of concern. I had heard of Sen. Miller, and I knew of his reputation as a powerful mover and shaker in state politics. It seemed odd. Why did he want me for a weekend, when a man in his position could get any woman he wanted, and not have to pay three grand for her? What made me, a poor little whore from the country, so special that he was willing to shell out that kind of money, in advance, for my services?

I mean, I was good, but I wasn't THAT good, and you would have thought that a single man in his position would have had upscale women stumbling over themselves to spend time with him.

And then there was the get-up Uncle Bill had laid out for me to wear. It was a leather mini-skirt, a tight white tank top, with a pair of thigh-highs and I also had a leather jacket that pretty well matched the skirt. Finally, he laid out my sluttiest pair of high heels.

I had come a long way since that night at Cosmo's when I had barely been able to walk in heels. I had learned to walk and act like a royal courtesan when I went out on these dates with private customers.

That was part of the fantasy that I was able to create. I knew these customers wanted more than just some roadhouse whore for their money. They wanted a girl who could at least pretend she was a lady, a lady who would become a tramp at the drop of a hat.

In spite of my poor, slutty background, I had, through sheer effort, managed to develop a little veneer of sophistication, a sense of self-assurance that I could never have dreamed of four years earlier. That self-assurance was about to be tested mightily.

The outfit Bill wanted me to wear was a little out of the ordinary, but it wasn't all that unusual. The make-up was, however. He had some dark, almost black, lipstick, with nail polish to match, that he wanted me to wear, along with dark eyeshadow and heavy mascara. He said that was what Mr. Miller - his words - had requested. It was almost a Goth look, and, once again, I had a little niggling of doubt about the encounter.

Still, as I drove into Jeff City in a light, steady rain, I put all of the lingering doubts behind me and concentrated on giving the man his money's worth. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel looming ahead, and I figured just a few more weeks of this kind of work, and then I could leave it behind me for good.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 10



My instructions said that I was to arrive at Curtis Miller's home at 8 p.m. sharp, but it was dark and raining, and I missed the turn to his house. By the time I realized my mistake, turned around and found the right road, it was about 8:20 when I arrived at the gate that accessed his property.

That should have been another warning sign, but I had encountered plenty of gated homes during my four years of work, and didn't think anything about it. The house was set back in a wooded area, out of sight from the road, but, again, I had been to a number of houses just like it, so I had no reason to be concerned.

But my first encounter with Curtis Miller sent off all sorts of alarms in my head.

For one thing, he was huge, probably 6-foot-5, with a lean, powerful physique. Then there was his appearance. He had dark, feral eyes, dark hair that was slicked back on his head and big hands that resembled claws, with unusually long nails for a man. And his first words to me weren't reassuring.

"You're late," he said simply. I stammered out that I had gotten lost and had had to double back to find the road. He simply nodded, and as the front door slammed shut behind me, I remembered what Leo - sweet, lovable old Leo - had told me way back in the spring of 1988, when I had first started whoring.

"Trust your instincts," he had said after our first encounter. "If a situation doesn't feel right, turn around and walk away."

Suddenly, panic gripped me, because nothing about this situation felt right. But it was already too late. I was behind a door that I knew, without actually knowing, was locked, behind a gate that only opened electronically, which was undoubtedly attached to a fence that was electrically charged.

I was trapped.

Still, at first, Curtis tried to disarm my fears. We had dinner, with him sitting on one end of a long table and me at the other. He turned on that oily politician's charm and tried to get me to open up about myself. But I understood unconsciously that the less he knew about me, the better off I would be.

After dinner, he allowed me to use the bathroom, then told me to join him in his den. When I entered the large, expansive room, he was dressed in a long, expensive-looking robe, with slippers on his feet. He appeared to be naked underneath.

He beckoned me to sit next to him on a plush leather sofa, then picked up a remote and flicked on the wide-screen television that dominated the bookshelf which took up one whole wall of the den.

"I'm told you like to watch porn movies," he said.

"They're all right," I said, shrugging.

The movie was indeed pretty hot. There was a tall brunette with four men surrounding her, and they quickly stripped her and got her on her knees, where she alternated sucking all of their cocks.

I could feel the wet heat building in my cunt as the woman got progressively hotter. Now she was on her back and the four men surrounded her. One was fucking her with a long cock, another had her head pulled back and was skullfucking her, and she had the other two cocks in her hands.

I glanced over at Curtis and did a bit of a double take. His hard cock was sticking up out from in front of his robe, and it was huge. It was a good inch, maybe two inches, longer than Uncle Bill's and considerably fatter. I should have been alarmed at its size, but I had taken cocks bigger than his, and was pretty confident in my skills.

He was holding it up with his fist, and I didn't have to be told what to do. I bent my head into his lap and slid my lips over the bulbous head, working about half of his fat meat into my mouth.

I gave the man my very best blowjob, keeping one eye on the TV screen. The woman was now on her knees, with a cock thrusting up into her pussy from below, a cock pushing into her ass from behind and the other two cocks battling for time in her mouth.

I looked up at Curtis and he was staring at me with a look of pure lust. I was on familiar ground now, or at least I thought I was. Just then, he pulled my head off his cock and told me to stand up and take off my clothes.

I did as I was told, leaving my heels and stockings on, as per his instructions. I stood in front of him, swaying seductively. Curtis stood up, removed his robe and his slippers, and commanded me to kneel on the floor facing the TV.

As I did, my eyes swept over Curtis' body briefly, and my groin lurched, because he was built like a Greek god, with clearly defined muscles in all of the right places. In another setting, I would have said he was a hunk. Later, of course, I would curse his strength.

Again, I did as I was told, getting on all fours, with my ass in the air, my dripping-wet sex exposed to his gaze. I stared lustfully at the screen as the scene reached a climax, and all four of the men surrounded the woman until they all came at the same time, shooting cum all over her face and hair.

I could feel my climax building to a peak at the scene, and waited eagerly for the next scene to begin. It was a young black girl and a blonde woman with huge tits. The blonde was eating the black girl's pussy when the scene opened. At first, the scene was a tight close-up of the blonde's mouth working in the black girl's clean-shaven pussy, as her body writhed in ecstasy.

Suddenly, I felt Curtis' fingers sliding over my pussy, and I groaned lustfully. He worked a couple of fingers into my steaming box and began to briskly finger-fuck me. After a minute or so of that, I felt his lips and tongue on my pussy, and I could feel my climax come almost to a head as he opened me up with his fingers and tongue.

But he stopped before I crashed over the top. I groaned in frustration, until I felt the fat head of his dick push forcefully into my cunt from behind. It seemed a little hurried, but as he started to fuck me with hard, powerful strokes, I began to lose myself to my lust.

Gone were any nagging concerns about this encounter. At that moment, I figured that I'd just been paranoid. Curtis, I told myself, was just like any other customer. He was just a man who wanted a girlish-looking whore to fuck as a change of pace from the high-society types he probably spent most of his time with.

But as I stared at the movie, something began to change. The video had stayed in the tight, close-up shot of the blonde women licking, kissing and fingering the little black girl's pussy and ass. Then, the camera began to pull back and the scene suddenly shifted.

What had appeared to be a bed that the black girl was lying on was actually a table, and she was tied spread-eagled to four posts that rose from each corner. I was so shocked and mesmerized by this development that I didn't see Curtis reach for something by the sofa, as he continued to fuck me.

It happened so fast, it took me a second to realize what had happened. As Curtis continued to pump his hard cock relentlessly back and forth in my twitching cunt, he pulled my arms back behind me, and in one deft motion slapped a pair of handcuffs on me.

I jerked around in equal parts panic and rage, and as I did, Curtis' cock flopped out of my pussy.

"What the fuck do you think..." and that was as far as I got. He stood up, walked around so that he was in front of me, leaned over, took my face in his hand - hard - and stared down at me with a look that froze my blood. It was an evil look of pure triumph and utter contempt.

"Did you really flatter yourself to think that I'd spend three thousand dollars just to fuck a little slut like you?" he said. "I can fuck anyone I want, and not have to pay a dime for it. But I have some needs that are, um, unusual, and it takes a certain kind of girl to satisfy those needs. Someone who is ... expendable. Someone like you. And for what I like to do to them, they cost money."

I just went cold inside, because I knew at that point that I was going to die. The man was going to do unspeakable things to me, then he was going to kill me and dispose of my body somewhere unknown.

"In case you're wondering, I'm not going to kill you," he said. "I'm just going to use you. Unless, of course, you tell anyone about what we do this weekend. That includes your uncle, the police, the press, your friends, anyone. What goes on here this weekend will be our little secret, and if you're a good little girl, maybe I'll let you come back and play some more. Make no mistake, slut. I can make you disappear,  just like that, and no one will ever miss you. Or look for you. You'll just be another little whore that met up with the wrong guy."

I tried hard to feel some relief at that, but I was feeling panicky. The cuffs were hurting my wrists, and the position my arms were in was painful.

"Now then, let's get first things out of the way first," he said.

With that, he walked back around behind me, pushed my face into the carpet, pulled my hips up, knelt behind me and rammed his cock into my ass.

"OH JESUS GOD!!! OHHHHH!!! FUCK!!!" I screamed as he brutally fucked his cock up my rectum in one awful thrust.

Up until that moment, anal sex had been something I could enjoy, but it was something I had to get prepared for. I needed to be well lubricated and opened up gradually before I could accept a cock back there. And even then there was a certain amount of pain/pleasure that went along with the initial entry.

But Curtis simply raped my ass, without warning, without lube and without preparation. And the pain was ungodly. I screamed and screamed in my pain as he fucked my ass with hard, demented strokes, and that seemed to fuel his lust. He was like some wild animal, and it was only through the dim haze of pain that I realized that my screams were being matched by those of the girl on the TV, as she was being ass-fucked with a huge dildo by the blonde.

I couldn't help it, I was sobbing real tears of pain, panic and humiliation by the time Curtis exploded with a huge cumload deep in my ass. And whatever orgasm I might have been approaching earlier was long gone. There would be no pleasure for me the rest of the weekend.

But my degradation had just begun. The moment Curtis finished spewing his cum up my ass, he wrenched his cock from my butt, stood up so that he was standing in front of me again and ordered me to clean his cock.

I'm sorry. I have to stop for a moment... God, what an awful memory!

Of all the things I ever did in four years of prostituting myself for my Uncle Bill, that right there was the most disgusting. Curtis' cock was covered with the remnants of his cum, flecks of blood and several streaks of shit. He made me clean every bit of it off, and I gagged the whole way. The only reason I didn't throw up was the fact that he warned me not to get anything on his carpet.

When I was finished, Curtis flicked off the TV, then produced a large piece of cloth and proceeded to blindfold me. Waves of panic filled me as everything went dark. When he had the cloth tied securely around my head, he grabbed me tightly by my hair, pulled me to my feet and dragged me stumbling through his house.

After dragging me through the house, I heard him open a door and we descended down a flight of steps. As painful as his grip on my hair was, it was the only thing that kept me from falling down those steps. I sensed that we were in a basement of sorts, because there was a dankness about, a smell of sweat and... fear. Yes, I could distinctly smell fear in the air, and I wasn't sure if it was just my terror, or psychic fear remaining from those who had passed before me. Probably a little of both.

Finally, Curtis stood me up and uncuffed my hands. But my relief was short-lived, as he made me climb up on a small stool, then he took my wrists and my ankles and strapped them to some sort of a rack. When I was secured in a spread-eagle position, he kicked the stool away. I was left hanging by my wrists and ankles, and the pain was almost unbearable.

Or at least it was for a moment. I hung there, unable to see, and I could sense that Curtis was somewhere in the room, but I couldn't tell what he was doing.

The first indication of what was to come was a subtle "whoosh" sound. THWACK! Suddenly, I felt something like a cat-o'nine-tails slap across my buttocks. I screamed bloody murder then, and my blood ran cold again as I heard Curtis laugh.

"Scream all you want, whore," he said evilly. "No one can hear you anyway. You have to be punished. You were told to arrive at 8 o'clock sharp, and you were 20 minutes late. So. I think 20 lashes are in store."

THWACK! He hit me again, and I begged him in wrenching sobs to please don't hurt me. I pleaded that it was dark and I couldn't see the turn. "SILENCE!" he boomed, as he whacked me across my chest. I said nothing, but I couldn't stop my heaving sobs of pain and humiliation.

"Your instructions were precise, and you disobeyed them," he said. "You will learn that I demand nothing less than absolute obedience."

So I said nothing as he whipped me with 20 lashes with that thing. He was devilish about it, too. There was no rhythm to when he'd strike me with the lash. I'd sense him circling me for minutes on end, and just when I'd think it was over, he'd hit me again.

He didn't just concentrate on one part of my body, either. He whipped me on my butt, my back, my stomach, my thighs, my breasts, everywhere. I had no idea where to expect the next blow.

And he was very good with that thing. He knew just how hard to hit me to cause the maximum pain, without breaking my skin and giving me something I could show as evidence of what he'd done to me. But while he never laid me open, he left my skin red and stinging all over by the time he was finished.

Whipping me like that must have turned him on, because when he released me from where I was hanging, he immediately threw me over his shoulder and carried me to another part of the room. As he did, my feet brushed his big cock that was sticking up in the air.

He stopped, laid me on my back on the floor - a cold concrete floor - and bound me to a sturdy pole. My ankles and wrists were tied together in such a way that I was spread wide open, and when he had me secured, he hoisted me off the floor until I was hanging about three feet in the air.

Abruptly, I felt Curtis' hand on my butt and the fingers of his other hand prying open my butt cheeks. Suddenly, I felt a searing pain in my ass as he pushed a huge hard rubber butt plug in me. It had to be at least 7 inches and incredibly fat at the base as it locked into my rectum at my anus. There was still some of his cum left in me from earlier to ease the entry of the plug, but it still hurt like hell.

The moment the plug was secured in my ass, Curtis poked the head of his hard cock at the opening of my cunt and pushed forward, sending his big cock scudding up my tunnel.

Again, the fact that I wasn't prepared for such a rough thrust made this coupling excessively painful, and I cried out again, although not like I had. I had figured out by then that he got off on hearing his victim's screaming and crying, and I was stubbornly determined to give him as little satisfaction in that regard as I could.

But it wasn't easy, because he fucked me with brutal force, pounding his huge cock in my pussy hard and fast. He worked my body on his cock just like he was masturbating with me, and it was easy for him given the way I was hanging.

The muscles in my arms and legs were screaming by the time he exploded with another hard load of cum in my pussy, and, once again, he made me clean his cock with my mouth. I have to say that after that first time, it wasn't as disgusting as it had been when he'd just come out of my ass.

He let me down after that, and tied me to some padded bench, where he left me overnight, the butt plug still lodged securely - and painfully - in my ass.

The minutes seemed like hours and the hours seemed like days, as I lay there. I tried to rest, but had very little luck doing so.

When he returned, he pulled the blindfold off and I got my first look at my surroundings. I felt a cold chill run through me, because it was like something out of a medieval horror story. There were shackles hanging and bondage devices laid out all over the windowless room, which I assumed was a basement.

"I thought you might like to get a look at my little playroom," Curtis said with a mirthless laugh. 

He was dressed in the same robe he'd had on earlier, and his hard cock was jutting out from the front, like it had before. By this time, I was hungry and parched, and my ass was numb from where the plug had been sitting all night, and I begged him for something to eat and drink. But there was no relief in sight.

Curtis roughly unstrapped me from the bench I'd been lying on, picked me back up and tied me back on the same pole I'd hung from earlier. Only this time my legs and arms were forced back - painfully so. Again, I cried out as I was hoisted up until I was at crotch level.

First, he shoved a large dildo in my pussy, so that I was filled in both my holes, then he stuck clamps on my dangling nipples. I was sweaty and writhing in my agony, and then he stepped up to me and shoved his cock into my throat. He fucked my mouth every bit as brutally as he'd fucked my other two holes the night before, and he took his time about it, too.

He worked my head in his powerful hands like I was some blow-up doll, until he finally stiffened and shot a massive load of cum straight down my throat into my stomach.

At that point, I was ready to die. I was ready for this ordeal to be over, and I prayed - and prayed hard - for death to take me and put me out of my misery.

But that was not to be, and worse was to come, much of it psychological torture. When he had finished coming down my throat, Curtis lowered me to the floor and untied me, just long enough to cuff my hands behind my back again.

He left for a moment, and returned with two bowls. One was filled with something that looked like oatmeal, and the other was filled with water.

"You wanted something to eat, something to drink?" he sneered. "Here. Come and get it."

Then he turned on his heels and strode back up the stairs. I almost lost it then. I was so hungry and so thirsty, but the thought of having to eat and drink like an animal simply unnerved me.

God, the humiliation! The next few hours were among the worst moments of my life, in so many ways. As proud as I was, and as humiliated as I was, my need for nourishment overrode anything else.

I crawled on my knees to where the bowls had been set down, and I lapped up as much of the water as I could, and scarfed up every bit of that oatmeal. I made a babyish mess of it, but I got something in my stomach.

After I had fed and watered myself, I curled into a ball and cried myself to sleep. But my rest didn't last long. Curtis Miller was a clever, fiendish torturer. If you are familiar with the effects of oatmeal on the digestive system, you know that it acts as a bit of a purgative, and soon I felt the need to... well, to defecate.

I lay there on the floor as the need built in my colon, and I had lost any semblance of dignity. I'd have let it go right there, consequences be damned. But with the plug secured in my rectum, there was no way to release the pressure in me. And with the dildo still in my pussy, there was no way for me to relieve my rapidly filling bladder, either.

So I lay there in speechless agony, writhing as I felt like I was about to burst. Just about the time I thought my insides would explode, Curtis came back down the stairs. I started to beg him to let me use the bathroom, but one look in his eyes, and I knew he knew what my problem was.

He stood me up and uncuffed me, but only long enough to tie my wrists in front of me. Then he produced the blindfold and something else, a ball gag. He secured the blindfold and gag, then strapped a leather collar around my neck. He attached a chain to the collar, then led me stumbling up the stairs, through the house and out one of the doors.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 10



I stopped momentarily as we exited the door, because it was cold and a steady rain was falling, but he jerked the chain and forced me to follow him through the mud to a spot about 20 paces out the door. Lifting my hands above my head, he attached my bound wrists to some sort of hook, I guess, then I heard a winch being cranked and I was lifted up so that I was hanging a couple of feet off the ground.

Twisting slightly, I sensed Curtis next to me. He whispered to me in a cruel tone.

"Go ahead, slut, let it out," he hissed, and with that he pulled the plug out of my butt and the dildo from my pussy. He heard him squishing as he walked away, and I heard the slamming of the door.

I was sobbing hysterically as my body took care of its long-overdue needs. You have not experienced degradation until you've felt a loose, pent-up bowel movement flood down the backs and insides of your legs, until you've felt urine flow all down your legs in an uncontrollable flood.

It was all the more humiliating because I felt so relieved. I didn't care that I was basically doing my bodily business out in the open, blindfolded and gagged where anyone could, presumably, see me and I'd never know it. The inner agony I'd been feeling earlier was gone, along with the steady, numbing pain of the butt plug in my aching ass, and that was all that mattered.

Once I was finished, I just hung there in the rain, letting the cold, steady shower clean me, which, I guess, was Curtis' intent. But the longer I hung there, the more I felt another concern, one of hypothermia.

Goose pimples covered my entire body, and I was shivering uncontrollably as the cold rain pelted my body. I could almost feel my body temperature dropping as I hung there for what seemed like hours. It was only when my senses began to feel a little dull that Curtis came back out and lowered me to the muddy ground, then carried me back inside.

The rest of that day is a bit of a blur in my mind, that's how absolutely numb I was mentally and physically.

I remember being hung back on the rack and paddled a few times. He tied me and hung me in a variety of positions from whence he fucked all three of my holes again. He hung me once and sprayed water in my face, and I perked up enough to try and get as much in my thirsty mouth as I could.

I finally passed out from sheer exhaustion while he was fucking my ass yet again, and woke up, believe it or not, in a bed. There was a change of clothes at the foot of the bed and a tray of food - real food, on a plate, with utensils - and water. I sat up painfully and ate ravenously and drank the entire pitcher of water. I was wary, but my hunger and thirst were paramount in my mind.

Once I had quenched my appetite and slaked my thirst, I took note of the clothes. I had no idea where he'd gotten the clothes, a pair of jeans, T-shirt, sweater, underwear and socks. They weren't mine, but they fit me perfectly. The clothes I'd worn when I arrived were in a plastic bag, along with a note.

"I must say, you held up very well, my dear," the note said. "Remember, you are to tell no one about our weekend together. I have a long reach, and you cannot hide from me. I will look forward to seeing you again, let's say in about three weeks."

Reading that made my stomach turn, and I staggered to the adjacent bathroom and threw up into the toilet just at the thought of submitting to Curtis Miller again. I knew in my heart that I wasn't going to go back there again, at least not willingly. I figured I was lucky to have survived, and I wondered if there had been others before me who hadn't been so lucky.

Afterward, I showered quickly and dressed. I tiptoed out the door to the room. It was after noon on Sunday, and the big house appeared to be deserted. The front door was unlocked, so I strode quickly to my car, and sped away from there in something close to blind panic, past the gate that stood obligingly open.

I cried all the way home, both from relief and from the memory of the way I had been abused that weekend. But by the time I got back to the store, I had dried my tears and set my teeth. I knew now that I had to get out, come what may, that if I didn't, I was going to die, pure and simple.

Little did I realize how close I was going to come to doing just that.



Me and My Uncle Ch. 11



When I look back over my life, I sometimes find it amazing that I never had a nervous breakdown.

I mean, I went through an awful lot of mental and physical abuse over the years, and I came out of it with my body and my sanity intact. Well, until now, that is. Maybe the dreams and nightmares I've been having lately are a delayed reaction to everything I went through, especially the last few weeks that I worked for my Uncle Bill. I guess that's why I'm here.

My mental reaction to the traumatic events of my life was strange. I guess it's like the old saying that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. It seems like the worse the things that were done to me, the stronger they made me.

And that was certainly true of the ordeal Curtis Miller put me through. I came out of it more determined than ever - desperately so - to get away from my uncle and forge a life for myself. But it was also as close as I want to come to completely falling apart.

For the next few weeks, I forced myself to act strong so I could get through the last little bit of college, but inside I was having a tough time. I'd find myself jumping every time something fell unexpectedly, and when I was alone, I'd find myself starting to cry, as much from latent fear as anything else.

During this period, I was spending a lot of time with Janelle while trying to get my schoolwork finished. She could sense that something was wrong with me, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell her about my home life, and the job I had to go back to.

I wasn't going back to it enough to suit Uncle Bill, though, and he was more and more bitter about how much time school was taking from my job. There was this disconnect in his mind about what would happen after I graduated. He kept talking about the big-money jobs I'd take on once summer came around, as if this was just another summer like the ones before.

Looking back on it, I didn't help matters by being non-confrontational about it. I should have just taken the bull by the horns and told him flat-out that I was quitting. Instead I led him, I guess, to think that I was fine with his plans.

The truth is, I was increasingly frightened of my uncle. His temper was getting worse, and his drinking was out of control.

As graduation approached, I was more and more nervous about him coming to see me walk across the stage and receive my diploma. I didn't want him to see my friends - and vice versa - and I was concerned about what he would do when he heard my name, the name I now considered my real name, being called out.

Fortunately, a couple of days before commencement, Bertie got sick and Bill had to man the store in her place.

Bertie had stayed on for those four years, largely for my sake. Uncle Bill had been a little nicer to her than he was with me, but she had still seen him pretty angry at times. If she could have, she'd have left and tried to find a job somewhere else. But I think she felt an obligation to be there for me.

We'd gotten to be friends, and she was someone I could truly unburden myself to, within certain limits. Uncle Bill had told her in no uncertain terms that what I did at night wasn't any of her business, and he'd told me that she wasn't to be told what went on there after she left work.

But she wasn't stupid. She could see the effect prostitution had on me, and she could tell how many boxes of condoms were being used on the premises, rather than being sold.

From pretty early on, we had offered customers the option of wearing condoms when they had their sessions with me, and I'd say a little over half of the men used them, especially if it was late and I started getting a little sloppy. I didn't like them much. As I've said, I was a real cum queen for much of that time, plus I didn't care for the feeling of a rubber-clad cock in my pussy.

Bertie tried as best she could to be a sort of grandmother to me, so she stayed around. And, honestly, she needed the job. She was widowed with deep roots in the county, and there weren't too many jobs for single women her age in that area.

So Uncle Bill wasn't there when I got my diploma, and I stayed in Columbia and celebrated with my friends. It was really one of the best times I'd ever had, a nice, mellow party with a few people I'd come to like. Afterward, Janelle and I made love, and it was beautiful.

I left the next day, a Thursday, and told Janelle I'd give her a call in a few days. She was leaving that afternoon with a couple of friends to go to Washington, D.C. for a few days, then she was staying over to attend summer school and to work at the fitness center.

She was like me, there wasn't much of a home for her to go back to during the summer. Her home was there on the Missouri campus, the way it should have been mine.

I got back to the store to find Uncle Bill in an expansive mood. When he told me why he was in such good spirits, I swear I turned white, and my stomach turned. He showed me the check from Curtis Miller, and he beamed.

"Boy, you must have made a real impression on him," Bill said. "He threw in an extra thousand. He wants you to come today, and stay through Sunday."

"Uncle Bill," I said in a shaky voice. "I can't go back there. He'll kill me. You don't have any idea what he did to me the time before. I can't do it. I won't do it. Send the check back and tell him I'm not interested in the job."

My uncle lost it completely. He walked over to me and got right in my face. He was red in the face, and he smelled of beer, even though it was well before noon.

"You fucking whore!" he screamed. "This isn't found money, and this man doesn't just give it away. I need the money he's paying for you, and you are damn sure going to go to his place right now and do whatever the hell he wants."

I broke down, then, and cried hysterically.

"You... you ... I... c-c-c-can't," I blubbered. "He'll... k-k-k-k-kill me."

"Bullshit!" Bill roared. "He's a goddam senator. He won't do anything to you."

"Uncle Bill!" I said sharply, as my composure abruptly returned. "He fucking tortured me for a whole day and a half! Tied me up, whipped me, just, just... It was awful!"

"SHUT UP!" Bill yelled, and then he did something that he'd never done to me before. He slapped me across the face. I was so stunned; I couldn't react at first. Then I just turned around, walked out of the apartment, got in my car and drove off.

That was officially the end of my relationship with my uncle. Whatever affection there may have been between us had been brushed aside by his abuse. I was as good as gone, or at least I thought I was.

My mistake was not packing my stuff ahead of time so I could take off right then. Truthfully, I had hoped for a day or so after graduation to get everything together before I left. However, things had been so hectic beforehand that I hadn't had time for any of that. Then - wham! - I'd been hit with the shit with Uncle Bill and I just left blindly.

I would pay dearly for that mistake.

I drove to Columbia and holed up at Janelle's the whole weekend. I had a key to her apartment, so I stayed there and kept to myself mostly. I watched a little baseball, wandered the campus and just thought about my life and where I wanted to go.

That Monday, I met for a few minutes with Mrs. Lasko, the placement counselor. She had put me onto some pretty good prospects, and I had even interviewed with a couple. But those companies were both located in Kansas City, and I wanted her to know that I had decided to leave Missouri, and I wasn't sure where I was going to go.

I stayed until that Monday night, then I decided to make a dash for the apartment so I could pack up some of my things and make my getaway. I'm not sure what I was thinking, as far as Uncle Bill was concerned. I hoped that maybe he was gone either to KC or Jeff City on one of his prowls, and I could sneak in, get my things and sneak out.

But luck wasn't with me that night. It was about 10 o'clock when I pulled in to the drive where I usually parked my car. My heart sank as I saw Uncle Bill's truck. There were also a lot of cars I didn't recognize, many with out-of-state tags. I took a deep breath and marched up the stairs prepared for a confrontation.

He was drunk, belligerently drunk, and he was sitting on a chair at the table, with three men I didn't recognize sitting at the table with him. My instincts had never betrayed me before, and I knew immediately that I had walked into trouble.

"Well, if it isn't the whore," he said in a low voice.

"Uncle Bill, I came to get my things," I said in a trembling voice. "I'm moving out and you can't stop me."

"Oh I can't?" he said as he stood up. "You fucking whore. After all I've done for you, and this is how you repay me. By standing up one of the most powerful men around, costing me four THOUSAND dollars, and by running out on me? You ain't goin' nowhere. DO YOU HEAR ME! You're staying your butt right here, right now."

I suddenly had a dry taste in my mouth. I knew I'd walked into a trap, and unless I made a dash for it, I was probably going to be killed right there.

I tried to run for the door, but he caught me. I was kicking, screaming and clawing at him as he carried me by my waist to the table. But his friends - or whoever they were - jumped in and held me down while Uncle Bill stripped me naked.

I blanched as I saw the look in his eyes. In all the time I'd known him, he'd never had a look like that. It was an utterly pitiless look of hate and contempt, with no life in his eyes whatsoever.

"Hold her down," Bill growled. And as his three friends held me down on the table with my legs spread, my uncle walked up and began to fiddle with my pussy, trying to generate a little moisture.

When I didn't respond the way he wanted, he walked into the bathroom and returned with some hand lotion. He squeezed a big dollop on his fingers, worked them into my cunt until I was fairly slick, then unzipped his pants, flopped out his big, hard cock and rammed it in me.

It was nothing but forcible rape. Of course, I could never have charged him with it, because he'd made sure there was no evidence of forced entry, and, besides, the sheriff wouldn't have let me press charges.

Indeed, several deputies had told me on more than one occasion over the previous year that the word was out on me. They said that if something I did wasn't up to their liking, they'd haul me in on some trumped-up charge and throw me in the jail and let them all have at me.

So I had to take what Uncle Bill was giving me, and I couldn't do a thing about it.

He fucked me hard and relentlessly, and quickly moved a hand and began to roll my clit around, I guess, in hopes that I'd get turned on. I did, in fact, start to feel a few sparks of lust building from the friction of his hand on my clit. But every time I felt it starting to mount, I forced myself to remember where I was and what my uncle was doing to me.

"Come on, whore, you know you love this!" he snarled, and his buddies laughed at that. "You think you're such hot shit, being the college girl, but you're still nothing but a cheap, goddam whore!"

The whole time, he was pounding his hot, hard cock in my pussy, and despite my best efforts, my body finally started to respond. My hips started moving in rhythm with his inward strokes, and my legs wrapped themselves around his waist. I was disgusted with myself, but something told my body that I'd better act like I was enjoying it if I hoped to get out alive.

Funny thing about survival mode. It was like I was detached from my body, that I really didn't want to know as I heard myself tell the others they didn't have to hold me down any more, and that if they'd give me their dicks, I'd give them something to remember me by.

Quickly, my head was pulled back and a good-sized cock was thrust into my throat, while two other cocks filled each hand. I worked them in unison, and Uncle Bill laughed dementedly as he watched and fucked me relentlessly.

"I told you," he said triumphantly. "I knew once you got started, you'd turn into a slut. Happens every time. You'll never leave here; you love cock too much."

His words stung me, because I knew now that it wasn't true. Fact is, I was starting to hate cocks, and everything they represented. No, check that. I still liked a cock when it was used right, but not like this.

But I had to act like I did, or I'd probably be killed before the night was over. I was almost killed anyway, but it wasn't from fighting back.

I could feel Uncle Bill's cock begin to pick up steam, and I could feel the juice of our coupling running out of my pussy onto the table. At the same time, I could feel the cock in my throat, skullfucking me harder and faster.

"Cum... cum on her face," Uncle Bill said with a leer. "She likes it all over her."

The man pushed his cock twice more deep in my throat, then pulled it out and exploded in thick, ropy strands all over my face. He shot cum across my lips, my nose, over both eyes, then he pushed his cock back in my mouth for me to get the last few drops. When he was finished, his buddies cheered and gave him a high-five.

Watching me get hosed like that sent my uncle over the edge. With a gasp and a grunt, he pushed his cock into the deepest part of my pussy and spewed a terrific cum load deep in me.

There were still two other cocks that needed servicing, and they quickly took their place. These guys weren't as big as the two that had proceeded them, and they were on a quick trigger anyway. The one in my pussy fucked me hard and fast, then pulled out and shot his cum all over my stomach, while his partner came down my throat.

I never really came close to reaching an orgasm, but I faked it pretty good. For some reason, I thought that was going to be it, but I had a rude surprise awaiting me.

As soon as the second pair of men were finished unloading their cocks, I was dragged off the table and hustled downstairs to the bar, which was filled with about two dozen men, none of whom I'd ever seen before. Uncle Bill pushed me through the doors with a sort of disdainful shrug.

"Here she is, guys. Have fun," he said. "Feel free to do anything you want with her."

Then he turned around and walked away, leaving me to the leering lusts of these men, most of whom were already pretty drunk. I never saw my uncle again the rest of the night.

From snippets of conversation, I was able to learn that they all belonged to some kind of Army unit from Fort Leonard Wood that was on leave. I never found out how Uncle Bill connected with them or why they were there, but what it meant for me was that I was about to be gangbanged, and then some.

I think if it had just been a gangbang I could have dealt with it. But some of the guys in the bar were violent, and they got a kick out of making me hurt.

Seconds after I was thrust into their midst, one man grabbed the back of my head, forcing my mouth open and a bottle of beer was forcibly poured down my throat. I coughed and sputtered as the liquid flowed into my stomach, with a good bit of it spilling onto my chest.

As soon as that beer was finished, two guys held up a can of beer over my still forced-open mouth. One guy used a can-opener to punch a hole in the bottom, which he quickly held closed, then the other popped the top open and the beer was shotgunned down my throat.

It was awful. I had all but quit drinking by that time, so this forced drunkenness was really a form of abuse. After another beer was shotgunned down my throat, I was thrown on a table and a large, swarthy fellow stepped between my legs and forced a pretty long dick into my cunt.

As he gathered speed, another man pulled my head back and rammed his cock into my throat. They both fucked me hard and shot their cum in me, backed away and were replaced by another pair of men.

In all, four pairs of men fucked me while I lay there on my back. I was allowed up just long enough to run to the bathroom and pee, after which time two more beers were forced down me.

Then I was leaned forward over the bar while a black man shoved his cock up my ass, which, fortunately, was decently lubed from several cumshots that had flowed out of my pussy.

Two cocks materialized in front of me, and they took turns fucking my face. Sometimes, they both tried to get their cocks in me at the same time, stretching my lips painfully. Soon, the man in my ass filled my bowels with his hot cum, while the two guys in front of me shot off on my face.

Two more trios took a turn with me that way, until my face was covered with cum, and cum was flowing out of my ass like a river. During that time, another couple of beers were poured down my throat, and this time they didn't let me go to the bathroom.

I held it as long as I could, but finally the steady flow of beers into my increasingly drunken body overwhelmed my control. Everyone laughed derisively as I was forced to pee on the floor. I was crying by the time I finished, but things were about to get worse.

For some reason, I made a drunken decision to make a run for the door. What I would have done if I had gotten out is unclear, but I just wanted to get away from these men who were making sport of me.

But as I jerked away from a group of them, I slipped - probably in the pool of urine I'd just left - and fell hard to the floor. When I fell awkwardly, I felt a sharp pain as I twisted my ankle. I found out later that I'd sprained it pretty badly.

With my ankle throbbing, I was picked up from the floor and carried to one of the pool tables, where one of the men was lying on his back with his hard cock sticking out from his pants. I was placed on my knees and the man on the table pushed his cock up my flooded pussy, while another man climbed up on the table and slid his cock into my gaping, cum-filled ass. Two more men took up position at the head of the pool table and alternated sticking their cocks in my mouth.

To my absolute mortification, I found my body finally responding to this quadruple-fuck, the way it always had. I had not, as yet, had a climax, nor did I really want one. But the feeling of being double-fucked, along with the two cocks I was trying to suck, lit the fuse on my long-dormant lust, whether I wanted it to or not.

This, I believe, is where my current difficulty in reaching an orgasm really took root. The fact that was aroused to the point of climax by a gang rape did something to my psyche. As I shuddered with the crackling glow of a terrific orgasm, I felt ashamed - deeply humiliated - and something in my soul died.

All the more so, because the whole room knew I'd come, and that just fueled their madness. As yet another beer was poured down my throat - I didn't willingly drink a single beer the whole night - the foursome working their cocks in me all shot huge cum loads in my body.

When they had finished another foursome took their place on the pool table, and this bunch all pulled out at the end and shot their cum all over my body. I felt dirty with the slimy feeling of semen all over me.

Not too long before, that would have triggered supreme pleasure in me. But over the previous months, I had begun to get over my addiction to cum. I wasn't a cum junkie any more, and this just drove the point home about how degrading it really was to have men shoot their cum on my body.

I just wanted this orgy to be over, so I could go back to the apartment, regroup and figure out another strategy for making my escape. But my ordeal was still far from over, and it was the next group that finally went over the edge.

I was hauled off the pool table onto my feet, and found myself surrounded by about a half-dozen really hard-looking men, led by a Hispanic-looking man with cruel features. I'll never know what set him off, whether it was anything in particular or whether he just liked to beat up women.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 11



I was swaying, trying not to fall over, when I suddenly felt a terrific blow as he punched me hard in my right eye. I screamed and cried out as I fell hard to the floor. I tried to curl up into a fetal ball, but as I did, I felt something like a large knife being stuck in my side, which was a heavy boot kicking me hard. I gasped in shocked pain as the wind left me momentarily. Then I was picked up again and someone backhanded me across the mouth.

I tasted blood and I gasped for breath as I was hauled back onto the table, where a very big cock was rammed into my pussy. As I lay on my back, I felt beer being poured all over my body, while I was forced to guzzle another one.

I felt my face swelling from where I'd been punched, and I knew I had a black eye, and I could feel my lips puffing from where I'd been slapped. I lay back on that table in a painful stupor while a succession of men fucked my pussy or my ass, and I finally felt myself losing consciousness.

One of my last memories of that night is thinking that this was my death, that I was going die that night. On one hand, I welcomed death as a release from my torment, but on the other hand, I was bitterly disappointed that I was going to die when I was so close to getting away, and that I would never know happiness.

As far as I know, the orgy went on all night, and when it was over someone apparently carried me upstairs to my little room. At least, that's where I found myself when I finally began to regain consciousness.

My first conscious thought was of pain: sharp, searing pain in my side; dull, throbbing pain in my head. I could tell that my right eye was swollen shut, that I had cuts all over my face and body.

As I gradually awoke, I realized that I had been cleaned up and that I was in my little bed, the bed I had abandoned four years earlier when it became my workplace.

I was soon to learn that it was Bertie who had found me, lying naked and battered a little ways up the stairs that led to the apartment. I guess I had somehow managed to crawl that far after the orgy was over.

She had gathered me up, cleaned me up and put a gown on me. Then she had found Uncle Bill, read him the riot act and quit on the spot. I never saw her again, but I owe her a debt of gratitude.

As it turned out, it was around noon on Wednesday. I had been out for a little over a full day, and to this day, I really don't know how close I came to actually dying.

I tried to sit up, and the room started spinning, so I fell back down and cried out. I got no response, so I cried out again, and when I did, I felt the stabbing pain shoot up my side, and I found myself gasping for breath. I knew in a heartbeat that I needed to see a doctor, right then, or I was in trouble.

I managed to pull myself out of bed, painfully. I ignored the waves of nausea and dizziness that threatened to overwhelm me, and crawled to the dresser and somehow got some shorts and a T-shirt on. By then, my breathing was labored and I could taste blood.

With great effort, I was able to get to the bathroom, where I tried to brush my teeth, which I did, again, with a painful effort. I happened to look up and saw my reflection in the mirror and I broke down then. I looked like hell, and I felt like it, too. 

Finally, Uncle Bill came up the steps and came in the door. His look was pitiless as he stared down at me kneeling on the floor in agony.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said.

"I've... got to get... to the doctor," I gasped. "Please."

"And how do you plan to get there?" he said.

"I'll drive," I said, standing up slowly and swaying on rubbery legs.

"In what?" he said with a sneer.

"My car?" I said, as I gripped the doorway, trying I keep my balance.

"You wrecked your car, remember?" he said.

"I most certainly did not," I cried angrily, then bent over in pain. "Your friends beat me up."

"You wrecked your car," he said forcefully. "And if you tell anyone anything different, what you just experienced will seem like a picnic compared to what I'll do to you. Come on, I'll take you to the clinic. But I warn you. If you try anything stupid, like telling the doctor anything other than what I tell you to say, you'll live to regret it."

At that point, I didn't care. I just knew I needed to be seen, immediately. On the way into town, Bill told me that he'd deliberately run my car into a tree and that it was totaled.

"That'll teach you not to run away from me again," he said in an angry tone. I stayed silent, largely because talking hurt.

The doctor at the walk-in clinic where we went was immediately suspicious. He was a fairly young guy who hadn't been there long, apparently not long enough to learn who and what I was.

"Tell me again, how did this happen?" he asked me, when he had ushered Bill out so he could examine my side and talk to me privately. Bill had been none too happy about it, but he'd left, however, not before glaring at me just before he shut the door to the examination room.

"I... had a wreck," I said dully.

"Don't lie to me," the doctor said with a little more force. "What really happened to you?"

"I told you, I had a wreck," I said.

"Look, Sophie, if your uncle's been beating on you, I can help," he said, a little more kindly. "There are places you can go, domestic-abuse shelters."

"Here?" I said, incredulously. "I'm sorry, but you don't know me, and you don't know Uncle Bill. There is no place in this town where I'd be safe from him or his friends."

"Sophie..." he began, but I cut him off. I already had my own plan of action that I was working over in my mind, and staying there wasn't part of it.

"Doctor, just finish the exam, and let me go home," I said bitterly.

He sent me for x-rays, and it was discovered that I had two cracked ribs and a punctured lung. I went for outpatient surgery to have my ribs set and my lung reinflated. I also had a black eye, facial contusions and a sprained ankle.

After I got out of surgery, the doctor wrapped the ankle, then gave me a prescription for a powerful painkiller. I was still groggy as I limped into the drug store on crutches, with Uncle Bill watching me every step of the way.

Nevertheless, that was the critical moment. I was silent as the pharmacist gave me a bottle with 12 capsules. When I got home, Bill made me take one of the pills.

"We need to get you well, so you can go back to work on Monday," he said. 

I did a quick calculation. It was Wednesday, so I had five days before he would expect me to be well enough to take on clients again. I was bound and determined that wouldn't happen. I decided to make one final appeal, in hopes that maybe he'd relent, and let me go, the way he'd promised he would four years earlier.

"Uncle Bill, please," I said. "Please let me go. I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being the county whore, tired of people using me for their filthy pleasure, tired of being told what to do and when to do it. I have a life, and I'm entitled to live it the way I want, not the way you want."

"Will you shut the fuck up?" he exclaimed. "I'm not about to let a cash cow like you just walk away. You're too valuable for that."

"But you promised!" I cried. "You promised me that if I served you, did anything you told me to do for four years, that you'd let me go when I graduated. I've graduated, and I've done everything just like you told me to. Please! This life is going to kill me if I don't stop."

"And I'm gonna kill you if you try to leave again," he growled. "You seem to forget that you blew off your last assignment to see Curtis Miller. You broke our agreement when you decided to stand him up. Him, of all people. When you did that, you voided our deal. I own you now and forever, and you're going to go back to Miller and submit to anything he wants. Do you understand?"

"I'll NEVER go back to that animal again," I spat, ignoring the pain in my side. "YOU broke our deal when you didn't protect me from that... that freak. Shoot me now if you must, but I'm not letting him touch me again."

"We'll see about that," Bill said, as he spun on his heels, marched out the door and stomped down the steps. By then the painkiller was working and I was feeling sleepy. My last waking thought was, yeah, we will see about that.

I was supposed to take two capsules a day, but after the first day, I hid them instead of taking them. It was excruciating, but I couldn't waste them on myself. And besides, I needed to be as mentally alert as possible. Bill did, in fact, check the bottle to make sure I was taking them, and I spent the next few days in bed, resting and gathering my strength.

As the weekend arrived, I was feeling a little better, so I got up and moved around a little bit. The swelling around my eye had gone down some and I was able to see again, and my ankle wasn't throbbing quite like it had been.

The whole time, I pretended to be the docile pet I'd always been around my uncle, and he seemed satisfied with my response. While he worked that Saturday, I quietly began to go through my things, setting aside what I would need and what I would have to leave behind.

On Sunday, I tried to walk around the apartment without my crutches as much as possible, trying to get my strength back, and slowly I did. I took the capsules I had stashed away and put them in the kitchen where I could get to them quickly.

As I did most Sundays, I fixed a big meal that would be ready when Bill closed the store. I knew I had to do whatever I was going to do on Sunday, because the bar would be closed and no one else would be around.

My heart was in my throat as he came in about 7 o'clock that night. I had fixed a pot of spaghetti sauce with a mess of greens, so that I could more easily mix the drug's powder in with his food, and it wouldn't be as easily detected. I prayed that he wouldn't taste the drug in his food and in his beer.

I fixed his plate, then nervously opened two of the caps and poured the contents onto his spaghetti. I poured one over his greens, stirred them around a little, opened another one and poured it in his beer.

I fixed myself a small plate and forced myself to eat, even though I had no appetite. As we ate, I engaged him in small talk, about the store and other things. Finally, Uncle Bill started talking about my going back to work.

"I don't know if I'm ready to go back tomorrow," I said. "I'm still awfully sore."

"Tough," he said. "I've been losing income with you being down like you have been. I've got a lot of people asking when you're going to be well and ready to go again. Can't keep the customers waiting."

I watched him closely, to see if the pills were having any effect. He didn't notice anything about the taste; in fact, he wolfed everything down and asked for seconds, plus another beer. I fixed his plate again, and dumped another capsule onto his pile of sauce, mixed it up good and opened up another one into his beer. He scarfed that down, just like he had the first plate. I had to figure that six of those capsules would be enough to knock out a horse, but it seemed to not affect him.

I was starting to panic a little bit, so when I got him another beer, I opened two of the caps, poured them in and swirled the beer around in the bottle just a little bit to let them dissolve.

This time, he noticed a funny taste, because he kind of wrinkled his nose and looked at me funny. He was sitting on the sofa with a ball game on, and as he drained the beer, I noticed he was having trouble focusing and that his head was kind of lolling a little bit.

"Man, ah don' feel so good," he slurred. "Can' unnerstan..."

Then, apparently, it dawned on him what I had done.

"Whud you put in here," he said. "You... sorry whore. You... drugged... me. You're... gonna pay..."

I screamed as he struggled to his feet and started to come at me, murder in his eyes. But after two steps, he tripped over his benumbed feet and tumbled to the floor. And try as he might, he couldn't get up.

"Fuggin' bitch," he mumbled. "Ah'll... kill... you."

Then his head dropped to the floor and I realized that he was out cold.

"You're going to have to catch me first," I snarled in his ear. Just to be safe, I picked up his arm, let it go, and it dropped straight to the floor. He was out of it.

A wave of panic flooded me, as I realized that I needed to move quickly. I didn't know how long the drug would keep him down, so I did my work quickly.

The first thing I did was pick up the phone and call Janelle to come pick me up. She was supposed to have gotten back from D.C. the day before, but I hadn't had a chance to contact her.

I thought about just taking Uncle Bill's truck, but decided that wasn't a good idea, because then he could accuse me of auto theft. I didn't want him to have any real reason to set the law on my tail, unless, of course, the drugs I'd given him killed him. And that was a chance I had to take.

I could feel the bile rise in my throat as the phone rang once, twice, three times, four. I prayed hard for her to please pick up the phone, and after the fifth ring, my prayers were answered.

"Hello?" her voice was music to my ears.

"Oh, thank God!" I blurted out, and I couldn't keep from bursting into tears.

"Lyn?" she asked. "Lyn, what's wrong?"

"Please, Janelle, you've got to help me," I exclaimed, my words tumbling together in a rush. "He's going to kill me if I stay. You've got to come pick me up. They beat me up, he wrecked my car, he's gonna kill me if I don't get away. Please, God, help me!"

"What?" she said with an incredulous voice. "Who's going to kill you? Lyn, what's going on?"

"My uncle!" I practically screamed into the phone. "I tried to run away and he caught me and they beat me up, and please, baby, you've got to help me!"

I was hysterical in my fear. I had to get away now. If I didn't, he surely would kill me. I'd seen it in his eyes, right before he fell in a drugged stupor. Cash cow or no, I knew that his fury would lead him to murder if I didn't get away now.

"Calm down, sweetheart," Janelle said. "I'll be there, just tell me where I'm going, and I'll be there as quickly as I can."

I gave her directions, told her I would be walking along the highway, and that I'd be wearing a white T-shirt and white baseball cap, with jeans. I'd have my backpack and I said I'd clip the little Missouri Tiger stuffed doll she'd given me for Christmas the previous year on the outside, so she'd know it was me.

After I hung up, I got a grip on my emotions, so I could do what I had to do. I dressed quickly; packed my backpack with the stuff I'd determined I'd need, including my little jewelry box and my diploma. I was leaving behind a lot of my stuff, but I couldn't help it. I needed to travel light.

When I was packed and ready to go, I turned out all the lights, then went downstairs as quickly as I could and headed off in the direction of the interstate, toward safety.

It was slow going, because I was trying to walk on my ankle without my crutches, and because of the weight of my backpack. Even though I had packed light, I had still packed enough clothes and things to get me through the next few days, and I was still fairly weak from being beaten up.

As I reached the curve in the road north of the store, I turned around and took one last look at the place that I had called home for the previous eight years. I also checked to make sure the upstairs apartment was still dark. It was, so with a sigh and brimming eyes, I turned my back on the past and headed toward the future.

I'll tell you, I was scared to death as I trudged along the highway. Every vehicle that passed, I feared it was Bill or one of his friends who would see me with my cap and pack, figure out what I was up to, pick me up and take me back.

I also worried about a sheriff's patrol car passing me, hauling me in, taking me back, finding Bill out cold on the floor and arresting me for attempted murder. And being in the clutches of the sheriff was almost a worse fate than staying with Bill. I knew that if I went to the jail, that not only would the sheriff, the deputies and the jailers all rape me, but they'd throw me to the prisoners, as well.

Suddenly, a car passed that appeared to be Janelle's, and, sure enough, the car turned around and her little Mazda pulled up in front of me.

In all the years since, there have only been three moments in my life more joyful than the sight of my girlfriend pulling up to rescue me: my wedding day and the days that I gave birth to my daughters. I knew as I threw my pack in the back seat and climbed in her car, that I was all but safe, that I was minutes away from being out of the county for good.

"OK, baby, what's so..." Janelle started, then she stopped when she saw my face. "My God! What happened to you?"

"I told you, they beat me up," I said. "I..." 

And that was as far as I got. As she put the car in gear and drove off, I dissolved in huge, gasping sobs. I cried like I hadn't cried in years, not even after that first night at the adult video store, when I first fully realized the consequences of what I was getting myself into, and not even after Caleb died.

I cried long and hard until we got to the interstate and headed toward Columbia. Then I just sat silently and stared out the window. Finally, we got to Janelle's apartment and she helped me in. She fixed me a cup of hot tea, brought it to me where I was sitting, sat down and looked over at me. Her look was one of concern, but also consternation.

"OK, out with it," she said. "I've known all along that there was something about what you're doing back there that doesn't add up, something you haven't told me about. You're in trouble, and I can't help you if I don't know what I'm dealing with."

So I told her everything, how my Uncle Bill was a filthy bastard who had manipulated me into becoming his whore, how I did everything she could imagine and worse, how I had lived a double life.

"When I'm here, attending class, going to the library to study, I'm Lyn Gibson, university student," I said. "When I'm back home, living with my uncle, I'm Sophie Trotter, whore. But not any more. Sophie's dead, and I left her back there. I sacrificed my self-respect to get here, and I'll be damned if he's going to keep using me."

I told her what had happened to me, and how I had drugged my uncle to make my getaway.

"What if he's dead?" Janelle said. "Won't the cops come looking for you?"

"They'll be looking for Sophie Trotter, not Lyn Gibson," I said. "And by the time they figure it out, if they figure it out, I'll be long gone. I'm leaving Missouri for some place far away, and I'm never coming back."

By then, my head was hurting and my ankle was throbbing. I still had three of my painkillers left, so I took one and crawled into Janelle's bed, the bed we'd shared so many times, and fell asleep.

I didn't sleep well, however. I had nightmares of Bill finding me and turning me over to the sheriff or worse, and I guess I cried out, because I felt Janelle's arms wrap around me from behind. My friend, my savior, softly calmed me down, and held me close until I was able to sleep.

The next morning, I awoke somewhat refreshed. It was a new day, and I had a new future ahead of me. I dropped Janelle off at her campus job, and walked over to Mrs. Lasko's office. The placement director took one look at me, came over to close her office door, then looked me in the eye and asked about it.

I told her what had happened; I didn't tell her why it had happened, but I think she got the gist of the fact that I'd been involved in something that had gotten to be too much for me. I got a letter of recommendation from her, since I was going to be leaving the state, then I warned her that if anyone came by looking for me, that she hadn't seen me since graduation.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 11



"Lyn, what kind of trouble are you in?" she said.

"I don't know," I answered. "Maybe a lot, maybe none at all. But I'm not sticking around to find out."

"Lyn, please be careful," she said, and I told her I would.

My next visit was to my advisor, and he also gave me a letter of recommendation, as did Dr. Lawson, who had been my favorite professor. They both asked me about the discoloration on my face, the bruise on my cheek and the shiner that still colored the area around my eye. But I just said I didn't want to talk about it, that what caused it was in the past, where it belonged.

Then I drove Janelle's car to my bank, where I had deposited three years worth of grant money. I closed my account and walked out with a cashier's check in the amount of $17,000, with another six grand or so in cash.

That would be enough to get me started anywhere I chose to go and to live on until I found a job. I drove to the bus station and bought a ticket for the first bus leaving the next morning for St. Louis, which would be pulling out at 6:45.

It was about 3 o'clock when I picked up Janelle. It was a warm late spring day, so we drove down to the park by the river, got out a blanket and walked to a secluded spot under a large oak tree. She spread the blanket out and we lay back on it. It was obvious that she wanted to talk, and I was in the mood to listen.

"Lyn," she said, and I could tell she was having trouble holding back her tears. "I wish you wouldn't go."

"Janelle, I have to," I said gently. "I can't stay here. It's too close. He's going to come looking for me, that's certain. And if what I gave him last night killed him, then the law is for sure going to be sniffing around. I don't know how long it will be before they put me together with Sophie Trotter. I can't let you get in the middle of my shit. It's best this way, safer for me, safer for you."

"I know," she said, and now the tears were rolling down her cheeks. "But you have to know how much I love you, how much I want to be with you. I've cried every time you've left me to go back home, wishing we could be together as a couple. I love you so much, and I would do anything for you. Anything."

It was true. Janelle was a true lesbian and I had always known how crazy she was about me. I had to be careful with my next words, because I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I didn't want to string her along, either. I knew we couldn't have the kind of relationship she wanted, and she needed to know that. But I also wanted her to know that I did love her in my own way.

"Janelle, sweetheart, you already have done something precious for me," I said. "You came to get me yesterday, no hesitation, no question. I needed you and you came. I literally owe you my life, and I will always love you for it."

By now she was in my arms and she was looking up at me, crying freely now.

"But I can't love you the way you want me to," I continued. "I'm not that way. Oh, I'm good at the act, good at sex with another woman. I've had a lot of experience, and I enjoy it in its own way. But I'm heterosexual at heart. I want a husband. I want a husband who loves me and respects me, a husband who will be faithful to me and give me children. Janelle, my love - and I will always love you - but I would be living a lie if I stayed with you. You have meant so much to me, and I can never repay all that you've given me. But I have to go."

"I just wanted to love you," she said, in a blubbery way.

"And you did, and I do love you in my own way," I said. "With you, I could be myself. You love me for me, not for what you can take from me, what you can use me for. With you, I can have sex with no strings, no exploitation, just two people who care for one another giving each other pleasure. You have no idea what that means to someone whose love, whose sex, was sold one slice at a time for four years."

I think she understood, then, because she buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed, holding me as if she never wanted to let me go. Finally, I pulled her face up and kissed her, and honest to God, the look she gave me just melted my heart.

"Janelle, just because we can't be together as a couple doesn't mean we can't be friends," I said finally. "You're the best friend I've ever had in this world, and I'm not about to let you go. I owe you my life, and I can never forget that. Come on, let's make the time we have left together something special."

We walked back to the car then, got a bite to eat, then went back to her apartment.

We were trembling in lust, in anticipation, as we shut the door to her apartment. Even though we had made love plenty of times over the months that we'd known each other, there was something about this night that made it so much more intense.

Our lips met and we kissed, softly and tentatively at first, but as our tongues began to work together and our lips sucked at each other, the passion began to mount.

Janelle held my face as she softly kissed my bruised face. I shivered as a feeling of lust slithered down my spine from the sensual way she was ministering to my wounds. It was like she was trying to use her kisses to try and heal me, and I couldn't stop my tears from falling at the gesture.

We just stared at each other as we simultaneously reached for each other's shirts. We undressed each other slowly, savoring each inch of flesh as it was revealed. Her chocolate-colored skin seemed to shine as if it was reflecting the lust - the love - she had for me.

My pussy was wet as we brought our naked bodies together and kissed again. I could feel her fat nipples sliding against my smaller - but rock-hard - tips. I bent my head slightly and sucked first one, then the other of her tits into my mouth, and I felt her shudder in passion.

I loved her tits, the round mounds that had first drawn me to her, squeezing, licking, sucking, then she did the same to me, practically inhaling all of my breast flesh in her voracious mouth. I gasped as the feeling swelled in me.

"Let's go to bed," I said softly. "We have an early day tomorrow, and there's a lot I want to do with you tonight."

We lay across her double bed; our hands touching each other all over as we kissed with a passion that made me tremble. I slid my hand between Janelle's legs, feeling her kinky, well-trimmed pubic hair and her rich, full lips, brimming with promise.

She was wet to the point of flowing, and she gasped as I slid two fingers in her hot pussy and rolled my thumb around her clit. Then I gasped as her fingers found my sex, and she slid two hard digits in and slowly worked them in a rhythm that mirrored the way I was working her.

Sinuously, like two creatures with one mind, our bodies moved until we were in a 69 position. I lifted her right leg and just stared at the dusky lips that framed her hot pink insides, which shone with the dew of her arousal.

I slid my tongue down her furrow, seconds before I felt her tongue delve into my hot little cunt. It felt so good, but I was having trouble keeping a spark lit on my climax. It was like Janelle's tongue, lips and fingers would get me to a point where I usually started losing control, then I just seemed to fall away from it.

Looking back on it, I realize that this was the first time I noticed my body rejecting sexual pleasure, for want of a better way to put it. And this goes to core of some of my problems with achieving an orgasm. It's like my body associates an orgasm with the insane things I did to it and the violent things that were done to me when I was Uncle Bill's whore.

Ironically, it seems like now I can only reach a climax when I recall some of my exploits during that time, and that scares me.

I've come to live with it and accept it somewhat now. At the time, however, it frustrated me, so I doubled my efforts with Janelle in hopes that she would be able to get me to where I wanted to be. I lashed her pussy with my tongue, sucked her pink flesh with my lips, fucked her hot depths with my fingers.

And she tried her best to keep up with me, but finally, I could feel her body giving way, I could hear her moans and cries of passion. I was almost angry as I rolled her onto her back, slid between her legs, picked up her butt and dove face-first into her creamy pie.

I ate her out with every bit of skill I could muster, sucking her whole pussy into my mouth, fucking her with my tongue, licking her clit and nipping at it with my teeth. Her body writhed and twisted as she climbed higher and higher.

"Oh God, Lyn!" she wailed. "Ohhhhh baaaayyyyybeeeeee!"

By now, this was all about Janelle getting her pleasure. I really didn't care if I came or not. I just wanted to give this sensuous creature, this beautiful woman, something to remember me by. And I did.

Janelle's body seemed to hang on the edge of a precipice, then suddenly she exploded in a powerful orgasm. Her whole sweat-covered body shook with the thunder of her climax and she screamed and cried, moaned and groaned.

I kept my mouth clamped on her pussy and drank her essence like it was the nectar of the gods, and what I couldn't get in my mouth, I let cover my face. Finally, Janelle shuddered once and fell back on the bed; her long, kinky hair scattered in every direction on her pillow.

"Wow!" she panted, as I crawled up the bed and settled in her arms. Then she looked at me, at the intense, almost disappointed look on my face. "You didn't come, did you."

"It's OK," I said. "I don't know what's wrong. But it's OK. This was for you anyway."

"Nonsense," she said with determination. "Lie back and let Janelle get you off."

I settled back on the bed, and tried to relax. For some reason, I was nervous and not a little frustrated. I had never before had this much trouble achieving an orgasm, even in the years before I went to work for my uncle and I masturbated in my little bed.

Janelle's tongue traced a wet line down my neck, to my little titties, which still stood up in a state of arousal. She slowly, sensually sucked each of my tits into her lips and rolled her tongue around the trembling flesh. I gave a satisfied moan as the sparks of sensation crackled from my nipples through my body.

I stared down at Janelle as she licked and kissed her way down my flat stomach to my abdomen. 

Suddenly, I felt her fingers once again parting my wet pussy lips, moving up to circle my clit as she placed little butterfly kisses down my abdomen.

I was grateful for the fluttery feelings of lust that began to well inside of me. Janelle's tongue moved slowly down between my legs, which she opened as wide as she could. I groaned as she lashed my clit before sliding down to lick my opening.

As her tongue worked at my lips, her fingers slid into me and she began to methodically finger-fuck me while she licked all around my burning crotch. I could feel myself climbing toward a climax, but I couldn't seem to get close to a peak, and I ground my pussy onto Janelle's face in hopes that I could jump-start my orgasm that way.

Bless Janelle's heart, she stayed with it, working her mouth on my pussy, and even licking my ass at my request. I was trembling and groaning, but I just would not come.

Finally, I begged her to slip a finger in my ass and fuck me while she ate me out, in hopes that would do the trick, and at last it did.

As Janelle's tongue worked vigorously at my pussy and two fingers pumped back and forth in my wet ass, I finally gave a heavy sigh and my body shuddered as an orgasm rippled through me. It wasn't anything like what I'd been used to, but at least it was some relief.

Janelle and I held each other, our naked, sweaty bodies clinging together, and we talked about what I'd gone through and why I'd had so much trouble getting off.

I didn't understand it, and in a way, I still don't, but I enjoyed the closeness, the intimacy that came with lying together with someone I truly cared for.

Janelle cried again as she told me how much she loved me and how much she was going to miss me, and I cried too. I was leaving my past life behind, leaving behind my best friend, and I hated it.

But it had to be done. I had to get out of Missouri, and I had to find my own way. I had been so dependent on the care of others, so needy, that I had been led into a very bad decision, into a lifestyle that had nearly killed me.

Going to college, however, and slowly building an independent life had given me the means to break free of the bonds of sexual slavery that my uncle had tied me down with. I now felt I could live alone and make a life for myself without depending on anyone else.

My last words to Janelle before we drifted off to sleep were prophetic.

"I'll never let anyone have that kind of control over my life again," I said. 

I meant it, and I've successfully lived my live that way. Not even my husband controls me the way Uncle Bill did when I whored for him.

The next morning, early, Janelle drove me to the bus depot in silence. Everything that needed to be said between us had been said the day before. I hefted my backpack over my shoulder and we walked hand-in-hand to the bus.

"Promise me you'll write when you get settled," she said.

"I promise," I said. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

She laughed then, a sad laugh, but still it was a laugh. Then the driver called for us to board, and in front of some rather startled passengers, she pulled me to her and we kissed deeply, like the lovers we had been, but would never be again.

I have to admit, I cried halfway to St. Louis. 



Me and My Uncle Ch. 12



When I got to St. Louis on the bus, I took a taxi to a clean, inexpensive motel and settled in.

I bought a newspaper and scanned the classifieds for inexpensive cars. I found two or three that looked promising and made arrangements to meet the owners to see them and drive them. When I called about them, I told the owners that I didn't have a way to get to them, so could they bring them to my motel for me to look at them.

I wanted to deal with private owners, rather than a dealership, because I was paying cash and I didn't want some slicker trying to sell me something I didn't want. Also, I figured the less paperwork, the better.

After looking at a couple of clunkers that weren't in real good condition, I found one I liked, a small two-door with about 160,000 miles on it. I looked at the engine closely. Early on, Uncle Bill had taught me the basics of auto mechanics, so I knew my way around a car engine.

I found this car's engine was in good shape, so after some dickering, I paid the man $3,000 in cash and he left me with my mode of escape. I put the address of the motel as my place of residence on the title, just in case.

That night, I took out a map of the United States and looked it over to see where I wanted to go. I didn't have a specific place in mind, but knew what sort of place I was looking for. I wanted to go someplace far, far away from Missouri, where no one would know me and where my degree might get a serious look.

I hit on a mid-sized city in the Carolinas, and as I did, I had another one of those flashes, where I saw myself settling down, getting a good job, making friends and finding a husband.

The next morning, bright and early, I packed my little car with my meager possessions, checked out of the motel and headed east. As I crossed the Mississippi River into Illinois, I could feel a heavy weight being lifted off my shoulders just from leaving Missouri.

It happened just as I had envisioned. I settled in Carolina, rented a small but nice one-bedroom apartment, and soon found a job working for a grocery store, using my years of experience at Bill's store to my advantage.

I worked there eight months, while I looked carefully for a job in my field, and finally I found one, with the company I'm still with. I left with a good recommendation and best wishes from my boss at the store, and some lifelong friends.

I got an apartment in a nice complex, dove into my work, which I quickly proved to be very good at, and tried to make friends at the office. I developed credit, traded my old faithful clunker for a newer model car and built a nice professional wardrobe.

I deliberately avoided anything, any relationship that I thought might result in a sexual encounter. I stayed away from bars, shunned any overtures from the men I encountered, and generally kept to myself. 

Part of the task of building a life for myself was to learn to do everything on my own, to be independent of anyone outside of the work setting telling me what I had to do and where I had to go. Also, I wanted to prove to myself that I could indeed live a life that wasn't defined by sex, as it had been all of my life until I fled Missouri. 

I didn't think I'd ever go three years without a sexual relationship of any sort, but that's the way it turned out, and the longer I went without it, the less I missed it. 

Truth is, I rarely even masturbated, because when I did, the nightmare images of what I had done as Uncle Bill's whore would flash through my mind, and I would relive that trauma all over again. And I found it took me forever to come.

As 1993 moved into 1994, however, I began tentatively accepting some date requests, but none of them developed into much. But I was starting to have fun in the dating game, the way I never had before. I was playing the field, going to concerts, ball games, art galleries, doing all the things I had been denied by my uncle.

Slowly, over time, the trauma from my past faded somewhat. I realized I could make it on my own, that I didn't need people leading me, using me for their selfish reasons.

Still, I couldn't quite escape my past forever. I spent Christmas with a friend and her family, and it drove home the point that I had no family. 

Then, in a flash, I thought about my mother, still sitting in prison in Oklahoma, as far as I knew. Suddenly, something told me I needed to go see her, that if I didn't go now, I'd never have another chance.

So I took a week's vacation that January and drove out to Oklahoma. I knew it was a risk, in a lot of ways. There was still the chance that she would still refuse to see me, the way she had for all those years.

Uncle Bill had always gone to see her a couple of times a year, and I would always ask if I could go. He'd always say that she didn't want to see me, that I had fucked up her life and to just leave her alone. For awhile I wrote her, but the letters were always returned unopened, so I quit. I could take a hint.

But I wasn't going to take no for an answer this time. I was going to stay there until she agreed to see me, and if she still refused to accept me when the time came for me to leave, then at least I'd know I tried.

And, too, there was always the chance that she'd contact Bill, assuming he'd survived the drugs I'd given him when I made my escape, and that he'd come down and try grab me to take me back to Missouri. That, I vowed, would not happen. I'd kill him first.

When I got to the town nearest to the prison, I called the warden and asked about Marie Trotter. The woman sounded taken aback, as if it had been awhile since anyone had asked about her. 

But she was still there, so I told the warden what I wanted, that I was her daughter, that I wanted to see her and that I wasn't going to accept her refusal. She said that she'd do what she could for me, but that I'd best see her first. She also agreed to say nothing to my mother until I got there.

The next morning, I drove to the prison, subjected myself and my car to a thorough search, then drove to the warden's office. The warden was a business-like woman in her mid-40s who nevertheless greeted me warmly. She offered me a seat and that's when I learned that my mother had terminal lung cancer.

"Quite frankly, it's a miracle she's lived this long," the warden said. "She was diagnosed almost a year ago and told then that she had about six months to live. She's a tough old bird, I'll give her that."

To say I was stunned by my mother's appearance as they led her to the meeting room would be an understatement. I get my looks from her, and when she was young, she was gorgeous.

The woman I saw enter the meeting room at the prison infirmary was gaunt, gray-haired, stooped and her face was criss-crossed with lines. She was 42 and looked 65. She looked like she was in pain, and she failed to recognize me right away when they led her into the meeting room.

"Mom?" I said tentatively. At the sound of my voice, she looked at me quizzically for a second, and bless me, her face suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Sophie? Is that really you?" she said. "Praise Jesus! I knew you would come. I've told them all along that I wasn't going to die until my Sophie comes, that sooner or later you would come."

Then we both burst into tears and we hugged each other, letting all the years of bitterness flow away.

"I'm so sorry about what happened," she said when we had composed ourselves. "For such a long time, I blamed you. After I had been in here for awhile, though, I finally realized that it wasn't your fault, that you were a naive, vulnerable little girl. Then I felt so ashamed at myself for leaving you in his care and then doing something stupid like I did, not realizing that I was just abandoning you further. That's why I never wanted to see you, wanted to hear from you. I was too ashamed at what a mess I'd made of your life."

"It's OK, Mom, I understand," I said, and, in a way, I did. I guess she figured that she'd done enough damage, and that I'd be better off on my own.

"But one good thing that has come out of this," she said. "I have found Jesus, I've accepted him as my Lord and Savior and I've confessed my sins. I know where I'm going when I die, and it's not to hell like my bastard brother."

That's when I learned that Uncle Bill was dead. He'd been gunned down the previous summer in what appeared to be a robbery attempt. Mom was allowed to go to the funeral, accompanied by two guards, and she said you could count on your hands the number of people who were there for the graveside service, which was all they had for him.

"They told me what he did to you, what he made you do, and I think people started to shun him because of it," Mom said. "A lot of people up there think he killed you and buried your body somewhere. God, I wish I could've gotten my hands on his filthy neck. Why did you let him do it?"

"Mom, I don't know," I said, and I honestly didn't. "Maybe it was fear, insecurity. Really, I don't know why I let him lead me into that life. But I got away, and I've made something of myself. Sophie's dead, Mom. I'm Lyn now, and I am somebody. I have a nice job that pays me well, I'm dating, I have friends and I have my self-respect back."

"Good. Do you attend church?" she asked abruptly. I shook my head no. "Well, start going. God has protected you for a reason. He has plans for you. You were meant to do great things, or you would have fallen long ago. And, besides, you never know who you'll meet there. You might just meet the man of your dreams sitting across the aisle from you."

I visited Mom for several hours for each of the next three days that I was in Oklahoma. We talked a long time about our lives, and we shed a lot of tears. Finally, as I prepared to leave that last day, she pulled me to her and she looked at me firmly.

"You don't know how proud I am of you," she said. "You've become a fine young woman, one any man would be happy to have on his arm, to have by his side. You'll find him, and when you do, be honest with him. Don't try to hide your past, don't keep any secrets from him. If he can't accept you for what you are and what you have been, then he's not the man for you."

"I will," I said, as my tears flowed like rain. "Mom, I love you."

Then we hugged and I left, but not before turning around and getting one last look at the woman who had brought me into the world, who had made my life so miserable, but who had finally reconciled herself to me. We waved one last time, then I left and I cried all the way back to the motel.

Incredibly, she still lived another six months, and we wrote back and forth just about every week until right near the end. And when she passed away in July, I took funeral leave to see her buried. I flew out there, and I traveled with the man who would soon be my husband.

My mom was right. Sometimes you do meet eligible men in church. I started going to a Methodist church with a friend, who highly recommended it. She said there were a lot of singles our age, and that they had a lot going on.

The third time I went I sat with her, and across the aisle was this pleasant-looking man of about 30, sitting by himself. He was of average size, all the way around, but there was something about him that set my stomach fluttering. To this day I don't know what it was.

And he was giving me the eye, as well. He asked me out to lunch that afternoon, and before two hours had gone by, I knew that Ron Foster was the man I'd been looking for.

I really was almost love at first sight, and we were soon crazy in love. But as we started getting more and more intimate, as several months passed, we eventually reached the crossroads of our relationship.

I knew we were headed toward sex, and my emotions were in turmoil. Ron wasn't pushy by any means, but we'd go out on a date, we'd start making out and he'd make some move that clearly indicated he wanted me in a sexual way.

And I wanted him, but I was afraid to let myself go. He'd get to a certain point - his hands on my breasts or under my skirt or unbuttoning my jeans - and I'd freeze up. I thought he had this image of me as a shy, innocent, church-going girl, and I was terrified to let him get down to it, only to find out that I didn't fit his image.

I kept shying away and putting him off, until one Friday night that summer, when we had returned to his house after a date, he finally asked - no, demanded - to know what was wrong.

"Lyn, it's not that sex is that important," he said. "If you're a virgin and you're not ready for it, that's fine. But there is something about intimacy that bothers you, because every time we start getting close, you start acting scared, and not just from the idea of sex. What is it that bothers you so much about intimacy? I love you and I want you, but if you can't be intimate with me, then we're going to have a difficult time."

I had given a scornful snort when Ron had said he wondered if I was a virgin. I knew then that it was time to come clean, that he needed to know why I was acting the way I was, and what kind of person I really was.

I got up from the sofa in silence and walked to his little minibar. I reached in the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the bottle of bourbon he kept there for guests. I took out a shot glass, poured some whiskey in the glass and downed it, then poured another and downed that one.

Ron just stared at me in disbelief, because he'd never seen me take a drink, and, in fact, that was the first drink of alcohol I'd had in well over a year. But I needed it at that moment, to calm my nerves and loosen my tongue, so I could tell him the brutal truth about my past. I turned back to him and tears were in my eyes, and not just from the kick of the liquor.

"Ron, you say you love me and that you want me," I said as I walked to the picture window in his den and stared outside into the darkness of the summer night. "I love you and I want you, too. But you have to know the truth before we can go any further. You see, I am not what I appear to be. Trust me, I am not a virgin, and I haven't been one since... since I was 10 years-old and my stepfather... mo-mo-lested me."

I dissolved into wretching sobs at that point, and Ron came over, held me and I just cried uncontrollably on his shoulder. Just talking about it, even thinking about it, had brought all the horrible memories flooding back. He finally got me calmed down, then we sat down on the sofa and he gently told me to tell him about it.

So I told him all about my past, about my mom, about being molested, about the girls at the juvenile school, about my Uncle Bill and the work I had done for him. I emphasized that I'd been the best whore in three counties, and I had done just about everything except screw animals.

I wept off and on as I told him, because I was certain that he wouldn't want me after learning about what I'd been like, when he discovered that I wasn't the sweet, innocent girl he'd thought I was. And I had grown to love him intensely and I didn't want to lose him. I was back standing by the window when I was finished, thinking despondent thoughts.

"I'm so stupid for thinking I could ever have a good man like you," I said bitterly. "Nobody's going to want me after they find out about my past. Hell, I'm used goods. But you deserve to know the truth, so you can get on with your life and find somebody decent, not an old whore like me."

Suddenly, I felt his arms encircle me from behind and pull me close. He turned me around and looked me straight in the eye.

"You said Sophie's dead, right?" he said. "You left her back in Missouri, so leave her there. You're not Sophie any more. You're Lyn, and I love you all the more for having the guts to leave her behind, for having the courage to tell the truth, no matter the consequences, no matter how painful it had to be. I love Lyn and I love you. Period."

He pulled me close, turned my chin up and kissed me, and as he did, our passion caught fire. I couldn't believe that this decent man, this man from a good, upscale family, still wanted me, knowing what he knew about me. I felt his hands move up and down my body, and this time I didn't freeze up, didn't back away.

"Ron?" I said timidly, my lip quivering as we broke our kiss. "Will you love me? Please? I need you."

Ron's only answer was to slowly unbutton the blouse I was wearing, as he bent down and kissed me again. I could feel the passion in his embrace, and I could feel the hardness of his cock pressing against my stomach.

I had never wanted anything more than to make love with this sensitive, caring man who obviously loved me. My blouse fell to the floor, then my skirt, then my bra, and he filled his hands with my teacup-sized breasts, twirling the little pink tips between his fingers.

I quickly got his shirt off, and I ran my hands through the light fur that just did cover his chest. I bent down slightly and captured his nipples in my mouth, and licked and sucked them, one after the other. As I nibbled on his chest, I unbuckled his belt and got his slacks off. Ron's cock was making a tent in his jockeys, and I couldn't wait to see it.

"C'mon, let's go to bed," Ron panted, and I was ready. 

When we got in his bedroom, he bent over to pull the covers down, so I reached from behind him, pulled his underwear off his cock and slid them off his legs. I hefted his already-leaking dick in my hands as I pressed myself to his back.

Ron's cock is a long way from being the biggest I've ever had, but it's big enough for me, a nice thick slab of meat in the 6-7 inch range. We fell on the bed, Ron slid my panties off, and I felt a thrill run through me as we held each other close, kissing and running our hands over each other's body.

God, it felt good to be lying next to a naked man again, and I could feel a tingling between my legs that told me just how good it felt. Then I took a sharp intake of breath as his fingers found my sex. He lightly parted my lips and rolled my clit around with his fingers.

At the same time, I encircled his cock with my hand and stroked up and down his shaft softly. It had been three long years since I'd held a man's cock in my hands, longer than that since I'd held one in a situation like this, in bed with just one man.

Even as that thought crossed my mind, however, I seemed to tense up and I felt my arousal start to ebb. I realized then that this wasn't going to be as easy as I'd hoped. Ron immediately sensed the change in my demeanor, because he softly reassured me.

"Just relax, love," he said softly. "We can take as much time as you need. Just lie back and let all the bad thoughts out. I love you, and I want you so much, but I'm not going to do anything if you're not comfortable."

"Oh, Ron, please, please love me," I panted. At that point, I just wanted him in me and I wanted him to hold me close. "Please, fuck me. I don't care about anything, but I need you. Now."

Bless his heart, he'd been so patient with me, biding his time, waiting for me to be ready for this, and it wasn't fair to him to make him wait any more. I rolled onto my back, spread my legs and as I did, he rolled on top of me, lifted himself up on his knees and slid his cock into my dripping cunt.

"Yessssssssssssssooooogoood," I exclaimed as I felt him push into my wet, waiting depths. 

We both groaned heavily in exquisite pleasure as we came together for the first time. This was what I'd been searching for all of my life, a man who would love me. Nothing more, nothing less. It was what had led me into all of the trouble I'd gotten into, going as far back as Schultzie.

I just wanted to be loved. Now I had that, and I actually sighed in contentment as Ron quickly got up to speed in my pussy. We worked as one from the very beginning, like we'd been together forever. We just instinctively knew what motions to use, what words to say.




Me and My Uncle Ch. 12



Ron bent down, took my sweaty body in his arms and we kissed, frantically, passionately. I could feel my arousal beginning to catch fire again, but I knew I wasn't going to come. My body just wasn't going to make it easy on me.

That was OK, though. I knew in that moment that I didn't have to have an orgasm to enjoy sex. It was kind of like when I'd been the object of the boys' lust in high school. They had rarely gotten me off, but I'd been able to lose myself in the act, in the intimacy of the moment, and that was enough.

I could feel Ron's motions getting feverish, but he was trying his best to hold back, trying to get me to come with him. Finally I had to tell him to just let it go, not to worry about me, but just to come on and let me have his hot cum.

"I don't... want to make you... pregnant," he said panting. "Where do you want it?"

"Come in me, baby, let it go," I said in a husky voice. "I'm way past my fertile time. Let it go, baby, fill me up. We'll worry about birth control later."

Ron's face tightened, and I could feel him jackhammering my pussy harder and faster. Then with a gasp and a grunt, his cock swelled and I felt the delicious sensation of his cum hitting the back of my pussy. I used my cunt muscles to milk his spurting cock of every bit of his cum, as I ground my pelvis to his.

Finally, he slumped in my arms and we held each other in a death grip. I could feel tears of joy welling in my eyes from the beauty of what we'd just experienced. We kissed deeply, luxuriantly, as Ron's spent cock slithered wetly out of my cunt, and I shivered when I felt his cum ooze out behind it. He rolled over, took me in his arms and brushed my sweat-damp hair from my eyes.

"You didn't come, did you." he said. "I think it's going to be hard for me to reach an orgasm any more," I said with a sigh. "I must have burned out my circuits or something. Or, I don't know... But on the rare occasions in the past few months when I've masturbated, it's taken me forever to come. Maybe it's something psychological. It doesn't matter. I got as much pleasure just from making love with you as I would have if I'd come."

"Perhaps," Ron said, as he slid a hand down between my legs and sluiced a finger through my gushing lips. "But you deserve to get something more out of the deal than just a warm feeling inside. Now, you just lie back and let the magic fingers of Dr. Ron do their work."

I chuckled at the way he phrased it, but once he started working his fingers on my clit and sliding his fingers in my pussy, damned if I didn't begin to climb slowly toward that elusive orgasm. I concentrated on the wonderful jolts of lust his talented fingers were causing, and how much I really loved this man.

It took awhile, about 20 minutes, but finally I felt myself peaking, so I arched my back and let it go. I shuddered from head to toe as the feeling washed over me, and I felt my body glow inside from the climax. I'd be lying if I said it was anywhere close to the best orgasm I'd ever had, but under the circumstances, in the context of that particular moment, it was pretty damn good.

Afterward, we got up and Ron drew a bath in his nice-sized tub. We sat together and soaked in the hot water, just grooving on being together naked in the afterglow of love. I was lying back between his legs, my head on his chest.

"Lyn?" he said hesitantly. "I have to ask you this, and then I'll never bring up the subject again. But why did you let your uncle do you like that? I understand about being lonely and starved for affection and all of that. But what drove you to accept that kind of treatment?"

"I honestly don't know," I said with a heavy sigh. "My mom asked me the same thing, and I really didn't have an answer. I guess I was just so needy and so desperate that I was willing to do anything to gain Bill's affection and make the kind of money it took to go to college. Then, after I realized what I could get in grants, I was already in so deep that it wasn't going to be easy to get myself out of that life. So I used the grant money to build my savings, for a rainy-day fund - and it's a damn good thing I had it - and just let Bill continue to use me and my body to pay the tuition.

"And there's something else, too," I continued, and for this I turned around in the tub and looked my future husband squarely in the eye. "In all honesty, a lot of it was about the sex. I loved sex, and I got to be very good at it. And if Uncle Bill hadn't gotten greedy and started pushing me over the edge into some truly nightmarish experiences, I might still be doing it. So maybe that was God's way of saying it was time to quit. You know, the old silver lining."

As I talked, I could feel Ron's cock starting to grow, as I had absentmindedly taken hold of it and was slowly stroking him up and down.

"In fact," I said with a lustful look on my face. "I think it's time we dried off and got back in bed. Then I'll show you what I can do with my mouth."

Ron laughed then, and we climbed out of the tub, dried off and crawled back in bed. I had him lie on his back, then I slid my body between his legs. I took his cock and balls in hand and worked them up and down slowly.

I brought my face close to his crotch and inhaled his manly aroma, the clean scent of the soap and the faint trace of our earlier lovemaking. It was a heady potion, and I could feel my pussy swelling and getting wet just from being close to the object of my desire.

Ron's cock quickly stiffened in my hands, so I brought my mouth to his cock and licked and kissed my way up the shaft and back down. As I did, I could see a nice fat ball of clear pre-cum well from the tip, so on my next trip up his shaft, I moved up and lapped it up, then went back for more.

Slowly, I circled the tip of his cock with my tongue, moving in ever-bigger circles over the head, until I was licking the sensitive flesh under the crown and my mouth was wide open, the head poised between my lips.

I felt a chill run up my spine when I heard my man groan in delicious agony as I slowly slipped the head of his cock past my lips and into my mouth. I had a firm grip at the base of his cock and I slowly jacked him as I plunged his hard length into my mouth.

I took a little over half of him on my initial plunge, and I began to work my head up and down, my lips caressing his shaft and my tongue lapping at the large ridge that ran up the length of his dick. With each downward plunge, I took a little more of his cock into my mouth, until the head passed my gullet and into my throat.

My cheeks bulged as I took every bit of him into my mouth and throat, his pubic hair ticking my nose. I hadn't deep-throated a cock in over three years, but it's a skill that once you master, you never forget how to do it.

"Oh God, Lyn!" Ron panted. "That feels soooo goood! I could get used to this."

I just smiled up at him as I pulled my mouth off his cock and took several deep breaths.

"Well, don't get too used to it," I said. "I want this to be a treat, something special, just for you."

"God, I love you so much," he said, as I resumed my work. 

Ron's cock was an angry purple color and stiff as a board as I plunged my mouth back down and sucked him all in again. This time I worked briskly, giving him my best professional blowjob, the one all those men back in Missouri would gladly pay 50 bucks for and consider it a bargain.

Dowwwwwwwn, I sucked his trembling cock to the root. Uuuuuuuuuuuup, I licked and kissed my way back until just the head was in my mouth. Dowwwwwwwwwn, uuuuuuuuuuup, dowwwwwwn, uuuuuuuuuuup, I worked expertly, slurping at his rod with every bit of relish I could muster.

And I could sense that Ron was reaching the end of his control. He was thrusting his hips upward, trying to drive as much of his cock into my mouth as he could, humping my face with a steady fucking motion. As I sucked him, I reached one hand under my body and rolled my throbbing clit around, feeling my own arousal starting to build.

Then I felt his cock twitch, once, twice, three times, and I quickly pulled my hand out from under my body so I could use both hands to squeeze his trigger. I heard Ron croak out an, "I'm cumming," as he exploded with hot jets of cum into my throat.

At the moment of his first shot of cum, I buried his cock as deep as I could in my throat and let him send his warm semen straight into my stomach, the way so many men had done before. I squeezed him with my hands and lips as he thrust his hips up in a jerking motion.

I swallowed every drop of Ron's tasty cum before I released his wilting cock, then I crawled up the bed and into his arms. Ron tried to return the favor with another dose of his fingers, but all he succeeded in doing was putting us both to sleep. 

But I don't know that I ever spent a more relaxing, more restful night than that first night I spent with Ron.

We spent the rest of the weekend making love, and I still remember it as one of the best times of my life. And the thing is, we've never seen much of a decline in the intensity of our lovemaking. Oh, it's not as frequent as it once was, what with two small children in the house, but we still feel the same sparks of lust now that we did that first time we came together as man and mate.

That first weekend with Ron was a revelation to me in a lot of ways. I realized that good sex isn't always about getting off. 

Don't get me wrong, I love an orgasm as much as the next woman. But what is important about good sex is the feeling of love that comes with it. Maybe if I'd had that feeling when I first had sex, my life might have been different. If, if, if.

Someday, maybe I'll find the key to unlock the door to my wild passion, the one I displayed so often during those bad old days, but maybe I won't. It doesn't matter. Sex doesn't define me any more, although, as I said earlier, there are times when it tries awfully hard.

Ron and I were married in early December in 1995, and while it was in many ways the happiest day of my life, it did have its bittersweet moments. 

For one thing, all of Ron's family was there, his parents, his brother and sister, his cousins, aunts and uncles, even the three grandparents who were still living were there. And I had no one.

Thank God for my friends, who showed up in large numbers. But still I cried when I realized that here I was marrying this good man whom I loved, from a big, close, happy family, and I had no one. I let Janelle give me away on behalf of my friends and the memory of my family, but it would have been nice if I had had a father to walk me down the aisle.

Four years later, right before Christmas in 1999, I had my first child, and two years later I had my second. I named my oldest Marie and the younger Janelle, after the two most important women in my life.

Five years ago, we moved to the city where we live now, when Ron was offered a full partnership with an outstanding firm. He is one of the best corporate attorneys in the city, and I was able to transfer to another branch of my company. The best part about my job now is that I can do quite a bit of it at home, so I can be pretty close to a full-time mom for my babies.

Of course, some old habits die hard. I am still extremely frugal with our money, and I don't waste anything. The country club membership is about as extravagant as we get, and that has tangible benefits for Ron's career, and gives us a place to go for recreation. Our house is nice, but not ostentatious, and our vehicles are practical, not showy.

And I still do the basic maintenance on them. I can change the oil, the filters, patch a radiator if I have to, replace the plugs and points, anything that doesn't require complicated machinery. I put one mechanic back in our old town out of business because he tried to rip me off on some repairs, and I was able to call him on it, then spread the word about him.

I'm a nice person most of the time, but you don't fuck with me, because I will cut your nuts off, figuratively speaking. So I guess my background wasn't all bad. I did learn some pretty useful life skills as I was trying to pull myself out of the morass that was my upbringing.

I guess that's it. Thanks for your patience in listening to my story. I think just talking it out, getting all the messy, sometimes exciting, often dangerous details out into the open has helped me come to grips with my fears.

I know Sophie's still out there, lurking, trying to entice me. But I know how to deal with her. I'm Lyn now, and Lyn won't be drawn back into a life where sex is a commodity that is bought and sold, where a woman is just a piece of property to be exploited for greedy, lustful purposes.

Sophie's dead, and with the help of God above, she's never coming back.

THE END