When I was 9 -- I didn't touch my clitoris.
But I would mentally fantasize about groups of men touching my body.
From 13 onwards, I would fantasize about large groups of men fucking me to a standstill -- in every which way.
I had not seen any porn or adult films at that stage.
These fantasies came completely from my own inner core.
They were both natural and beautiful. And they only ever existed in my mind.
You will often hear me call myself a whore.
By that admission, I don't mean I'm a sex-worker.
I have reclaimed the word -- the archetype.
I believe very deeply I was born a whore.
I am happiest when I'm getting fucked.
I'm happiest with a dick in my mouth.
I'm happiest with my legs wide open.
So with all that said, here's an excerpt from a much longer story of when I was a slave.
The One Hour Slave
The wall of the apartment had a hole in the middle -- a glory hole. My head and upper-torso passed through to one side, leaving my hips and lower body on the other. I was about to be taken by M and his friends. My pussy, mouth and arsehole used simultaneously.
I belonged to M for the duration of an hour.. We had a handshake agreement, no contracts or signatures required. I would surrender my body and will in order to learn the raw truth of submission.
When placed in the hole, I was unaware that M had invited his friends to share in my cunt. My legs were spread and positioned -- my arse arched and offered.
I met M through a mutual friend. He fucked me so hard during our first time together, that it left me internally bruised for days and I would think about him every time I tried to pee.
It made me chase after him and completely embarrass myself. But I didn't care -- I was craving his cock.
I have a habit of chasing cock. I think it shows strength to take the initiative with men.
After numerous fucking sessions, M and I had arrived here -- a place bereft of conventional values or rules. The meeting of a submissive and a dom.
I would obey M without complaint -- trust would be our foundation.
I’d struggled with trust my whole life. I’d struggled with relinquishing control. Was it my insecurities that led me to SM? Or was it my craving for self-awareness and inner-knowledge?
Male voices began to fill the space. I was unable to see anything behind me.
I breathed deeply, focusing on the heat that was burning between my thighs.
M appeared in front of me on the other side of the wall. He began to fuck my face.
Fingertips forced open the lips of my cunt. The wetness between my thighs, did little to mask my arousal..
M had shared me with one of his friends before but not all of them.
He told me he enjoyed watching other guys destroy me.
I embraced being a whore.
I prided myself on being something that men could use at whim -- then discard.
Submitting to men sexually always felt passionate and primal.. It complimented my femininity. It moistened my slit. It made me feel like a fucking woman.
I’d never succeeded in submitting to men totally though...
I’m an Aries -- fiery, impulsive and aggressive. My motto in life is ‘no surrender’. I’m confrontational, I NEVER hold back.
I believe that's why I’d chosen this situation or it had chosen me. It was paramount that I learnt to let go. It was paramount that I freed myself from the need to control everything.
Unknown hands prodded and poked my body. And M fastened his pace.
With each thrust, I would gag -- tears and saliva streaming down my face.
Anonymous cocks were now piercing my cunt in rotation.
Just for a little bit, I could be a goddess and be transported to a higher level of being.
M dumped his junk in my mouth without warning and I swallowed to show respect. Another 'cock' appeared and took his place.
It was a long production line and I was just a machine with another load to gratefully receive.
Being used sexually by groups of men awakened every cell in my body. I felt vital and alive.
How often do we truly live in the present moment? Most of us seem to be looking forward or looking back.
Sexual experiences such as these forced me to be present in my life. They forced an awareness and consciousness that I was unable to find in the mundane.
Reality and routine had always stifled me.
But my venturesome journey through sexual experimentation had resuscitated me from the dead.
It enabled me to cope with the normality and repetitiveness of everyday life.