Chapter 1 :

The summertime I turned twelve days old, things started to change. I was always `` more highly-developed '' than other girls my age, and had a sense of adulthood not often seen in pre-pubescents. I only began to acknowledge how older males looked at me when my uncle drooled over his beer as I exited the pool with my brothers. His leer caught me off safety, made me ill at ease and sick to my stomach. lifetime continued, day to day, but I felt him getting nearer and nearer as prison term wore on. He partied at the mansion every weekend with my dad, he began to stay over nights, and then demanded I bring him a towel into the shower. These small-scale instances began to amass uncertainty in my psyche. Eventually the tension between us culminated when my parents left us with him for the weekend. When Nox came, and the house was serenity, he made a beeline to my room, I could take heed his wino shuffle outside my room access and I knew what was coming. The showtime rape was the most painful, I cried the relief of the dark and into the morning. He took me over and over again in that first gear time of day. His palm tree pressed hard against my mouth. His belt buckle left weal that did n't fade for days and the contusion on my inner thighs kept me from my knight back riding. The next weeks until school began were my worst. I told no one and suffered through the coming upon with silence. He raped me anywhere he could, taking all he wanted and leaving goose egg behind, none of my individual, no whole contribution of my body untouched. I think this is the point in my life where I became hardened against the human beings and it 's anticipation. The dark relationship with my uncle continued until I was xvi, when I began to oppose back. I would press, the beatings would get worse. But when I fought back, I became excited. My pussy started to drop then minute I slid away from him and made him pull me back to him. I kicked him and made my own back arch from the inflammation. When he slapped my face in penalization and called me a niggling strumpet, my nipples hardened. I bit his finger extremely hard and he punched my lower berth back as he continued to thrust into my unwilling vagina. The moment his fist impacted with my spinal column I came with triumph. My offset orgasm was angry and filled with wantonness of a anguished psyche released.He twisted my head around and with facial expression of complete disgust, hurled me onto my bed and left the room. I lay there, spilling my pith onto the bed with my consistence shaking and desperately wanting to get again, to experience the pain and that pleasure simultaneously. I believe my uncle noticed the change in me, and when he realized he was in fact pleasing me instead of hurting me, he stopped. For him, the erotic touch stemmed from taking and not giving. My nature had been corrupted and by railing against him, I found my own pleasure. Many will deem this chronicle sick beyond the most twisted angle, but I am determined that I am not insane, just `` colly '' or `` tainted '' by the human beings 's standards. It was a relief when his Brassica napus ended, but he left a mordant St. Mark on me that will never fade. I have an insatiate desire for men ten to twenty class my older, and fighting against the man fucking me roughly and harshly is the near height I can reach. I want aught more, at this stage in my animation than to be degraded as used as my dominant partner pleases. The outside of me is very prevalent. I am a Sophomore in college, an award student, a published poet. I am five foot eleven inches marvellous and a unnerving soma to men my age. The sexual me is a submissive kitten that has to be taught repeatedly what she can and can not do. I thrive on pleasing my rife and go on the sexual system of rewards and punishments. At sixteen, I was just beginning to perceive my intimate power. When I first liberated myself from my abusive uncle, I thought I was actually sexually predominant. It would be over five years later that I learned I was, in fact, a submissive. Up until that minute I had convinced myself I let those men do as they pleased. A dear champion taught me that I needed those men to do as they pleased, in order for myself to get through utter satisfaction, Paradise, and straight sexual delight. I began as a rape case, a dupe, a girl. Though I consider myself still developing in my intimate enterprise, I have learned much, and I hope to plowshare all my sexual exploits, in wet, sweaty, dirty, spirited detail. I want to spread the knowledge that you are not alone in your submissive ( to the extremum lifestyle ). You are, in fact, most probably in a majority. All powerful women want to be taken, dismantled, examined, and used for ultimate pleasure, they just are n't uncoerced to intromit it. I loved not being in flush, being utterly lain to wasteland and I adored listening to the men as they finished with me and told me no woman had let them do what I had let them do. I have fulfilled phantasy, I have dreamed dreams and then lived those dreams. If you are in the bus that I am going to hell in, perhaps you will stay tuned to hear of how my endeavors so began and how I came to be writing this story, at the asking of my most Recent and most satisfying dominant .