Chapter 1 :

The summer I turned twelve years old, affair started to exchange. I was always `` more developed '' than other girl my age, and had a sentience of matureness not often seen in pre-pubescents. I only began to find how older male looked at me when my uncle drooled over his beer as I exited the pool with my brother. His leer caught me off guard, made me uneasy and sick to my stomach. Life continued, day to day, but I felt him getting nearer and nearer as time wore on. He partied at the household every weekend with my dad, he began to bide over nights, and then demanded I bring him a towel into the shower. These small instance began to hoard dubiety in my mind. Eventually the tension between us culminated when my parents left us with him for the weekend. When Nox came, and the theatre was quiet, he made a beeline to my room, I could hear his drunk shuffle outside my door and I knew what was coming. The number one rape was the most dreadful, I cried the rest of the Nox and into the morning. He took me over and over again in that showtime hour. His palm pressed hard against my mouth. His smash buckle left wheal that did n't blow over for days and the bruise 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 encounters with silence. He raped me anywhere he could, taking all he wanted and leaving goose egg behind, none of my soul, no unscathed part of my body untouched. I think this is the point in my life where I became hardened against the reality and it 's expectations. The shadow relationship with my uncle continued until I was sixteen, when I began to fight back. I would press, the beatings would get unsound. But when I fought back, I became excite. My pussy started to dribble then moment I slid away from him and made him pull me back to him. I kicked him and made my own back arch from the excitation. When he slapped my boldness in penalisation and called me a footling slut, my mammilla hardened. I bit his finger's breadth extremely hard and he punched my lower back as he continued to lunge into my unwilling vagina. The moment his clenched fist impacted with my back I came with triumph. My first orgasm was raving mad and filled with wildness of a tortured person released.He twisted my head around and with look of everlasting disgust, hurled me onto my bed and left the room. I lay there, spilling my pith onto the bed with my body shaking and desperately wanting to begin again, to feel the pain in the neck and that pleasure simultaneously. I believe my uncle noticed the variety in me, and when he realized he was in fact pleasing me instead of hurting me, he stopped. For him, the titillating feeling stemmed from taking and not giving. My nature had been corrupted and by railing against him, I found my own pleasance. Many will deem this chronicle sick beyond the most twisted slant, but I am determined that I am not insane, just `` dirty '' or `` tainted '' by the Earth 's measure. It was a relief when his violation ended, but he left a inkiness mark on me that will never blow over. I have an insatiate desire for men ten to twenty years my senior, and fighting against the man fucking me roughly and harshly is the best stature I can reach. I want nada more, at this level in my spirit than to be degraded as used as my dominant spouse plea. The outside of me is very prevalent. I am a Sophomore in college, an accolade student, a published poet. I am five substructure eleven column inch improbable and a formidable figure to men my age. The sexual me is a subservient kitten that has to be taught repeatedly what she can and can not do. I thrive on pleasing my dominant and survive on the sexual system of payoff and penalisation. At XVI, I was just beginning to cover my sexual abilities. When I first liberated myself from my scurrilous uncle, I thought I was actually sexually dominant. It would be over five twelvemonth later that I learned I was, in fact, a submissive. Up until that moment I had convinced myself I let those men do as they pleased. A dear ally taught me that I needed those men to do as they pleased, in order for myself to extend to talk atonement, paradise, and true intimate pleasure. I began as a rape display case, a victim, a girl. Though I consider myself still developing in my intimate endeavors, I have learned much, and I hope to share all my intimate exploits, in wet, sweaty, dirty, spirited item. I want to scatter the noesis that you are not alone in your submissive ( to the extreme life-style ). You are, in fact, most probably in a majority. All powerful cleaning woman want to be taken, dismantled, examined, and used for ultimate pleasure, they just are n't willing to admit it. I loved not being in charge, being utterly lain to waste material 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 fantasies, 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 try so began and how I came to be writing this story, at the request of my most recent and most comforting dominant .