Chapter 1 :

The summer I turned twelve years old, things started to change. I was always `` more developed '' than other girls my age, and had a sentiency of maturity not often seen in pre-pubescents. I only began to notice how older males looked at me when my uncle drooled over his beer as I exited the kitty with my brother. His leer caught me off guard, made me uneasy and sick to my tummy. lifetime continued, day to day, but I felt him getting nearer and nearer as meter wore on. He partied at the house every weekend with my dad, he began to stay over nights, and then demanded I bring him a towel into the shower. These small instances began to accumulate question in my mind. Eventually the tenseness between us culminated when my parents left us with him for the weekend. When dark came, and the theatre was quiet, he made a beeline to my way, I could get word his sot shuffle outside my threshold and I knew what was coming. The start violation was the most painful, I cried the rest of the nighttime and into the morning. He took me over and over again in that foremost hour. His palm pressed hard against my mouth. His belt buckle left weal that did n't pass off for mean solar day and the bruise on my inner thigh kept me from my knight back riding. The succeeding weeks until school began were my uncollectible. I told no one and suffered through the brush with secretiveness. He raped me anywhere he could, taking all he wanted and leaving cipher behind, none of my somebody, no whole portion of my body untouched. I think this is the point in my life story where I became hardened against the world and it 's expectations. The iniquity human relationship with my uncle continued until I was sixteen, when I began to struggle back. I would defend, the lacing would get speculative. But when I fought back, I became frantic. My pussy started to dribble then minute I slid away from him and made him draw out me back to him. I kicked him and made my own back arch from the inflammation. When he slapped my face in punishment and called me a niggling slovenly woman, my mammilla hardened. I bit his finger extremely grueling and he punched my lower back as he continued to hurl into my unwilling vagina. The moment his fist impacted with my spine I came with triumph. My first orgasm was wild and filled with wildness of a tortured soul released.He twisted my top dog around and with look of utter disgust, hurled me onto my bed and left the room. I lay there, spilling my essence onto the bed with my organic structure shaking and desperately wanting to get again, to finger the pain sensation 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 titillating intuitive feeling stemmed from taking and not giving. My nature had been corrupted and by railing against him, I found my own pleasure. Many will view as this news report sick beyond the most curve angle, but I am determined that I am not insane, just `` dirty '' or `` tainted '' by the world 's standards. It was a relief when his rapes ended, but he left a bootleg fool on me that will never fade. I have an insatiable desire for men ten to twenty years my senior, and fighting against the man fucking me roughly and harshly is the best top I can reach. I want aught more, at this stage in my life than to be degraded as used as my dominant allele spouse plea. The outside of me is very prevailing. I am a sophomore in college, an honors student, a published poet. I am five feet eleven inches tall and a redoubtable figure 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 dominant and survive on the sexual system of rules of rewards and punishments. At sixteen, I was just beginning to comprehend my sexual abilities. When I first liberated myself from my opprobrious uncle, I thought I was actually sexually dominant. It would be over five years 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 near friend taught me that I needed those men to do as they pleased, in order for myself to reach perfect satisfaction, paradise, and true sexual pleasure. I began as a violation case, a victim, a girl. Though I consider myself still developing in my sexual endeavors, I have learned much, and I hope to share all my sexual exploits, in wet, sweaty, dirty, gritty detail. I want to spread the cognition that you are not alone in your submissive ( to the extreme modus vivendi ). You are, in fact, most likely in a absolute majority. All brawny women want to be taken, dismantled, examined, and used for ultimate delight, they just are n't volition to take on it. I loved not being in charge, being perfectly lain to waste matter and I adored listening to the men as they finished with me and told me no cleaning woman had let them do what I had let them do. I have fulfilled illusion, I have dreamed dreams and then lived those dreaming. If you are in the bus that I am going to hell in, perhaps you will remain tuned to discover of how my endeavors so began and how I came to be writing this story, at the request of my most recent and almost satisfying dominant .