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(58 votes) Published: Feb 16, 2006 4:23 p.m. In 1 Favorites Lists Viewed 206 times
ok first things first i found this well looking on bearshare and i thought it was a good read so here you go,
TO HEAVEN AND BACK
One Pervert\’s True Story
WARNING
This is a true story that contains pedophilia, incest, bestiality, forced sex, and other objectionable content. My purpose is to lay out my history, so this is not written in the overwrought-style of most erotica, but rather more matter-of-factly, as a narrative. The people, ages, and events are real, as are the settings; however, I have changed the names to protect the innocent and guilty alike, and I hope I will not give enough information to clearly identify the people involved (myself included).
CHAPTER 1
I have known since I was very young that I am a pervert. I remember seeing Johnny Weissmuller and Maureen O\’Hara in \"Tarzan\" as a young boy of 4 or 5, then dreaming about hugging Jane naked, rubbing myself on her. I knew little then, but the thought was highly satisfying.
I started masturbating to orgasm around age 7. By this point I would dream about seeing little girls naked as I jacked off. I thought I must be completely weird because of what I did, since my friends all thought girls were icky. After every orgasm, I felt a tremendous wave of guilt. I think this may have messed me up. Psychologists say that child abuse victims become abusers, and that they seek out victims who are the same age as they themselves were when abused. I don\’t know if this is valid, but in a sense I guess I was my own abuser.
I grew up living on a large estate on the border between a good-size city and a farming community in South America, the son of a very well-to-do family. I\’m embarrassed to admit it, but my teen hormones were so powerful that I occasionally turned to one or another of our large Great Danes (female, if it makes me any less twisted). On lonely nights, I would open my doors (which looked out into my own private patio), and call one or another bitch over. I had really very little preference, since they were all tall enough that I didn\’t need to crouch behind them; regrettably, they were dogs after all, and when not in heat, very difficult to violate. On those (fortunately few) occasions when I was successful, the feeling was incredible, as their pussies were tight and wet, and once penetrated, they stood stock-still while I fucked them with all my might.
Let me take just a minute to dispel a myth propagated by some clearly fictional bestiality stories. It\’s true that bitches clench, but this has to work in conjunction with a dog\’s \"knot\" to result in them being tied together. Perhaps a human with a very large cockhead and skinny shaft might, maybe, suffer this indignity, but it certainly never happened to me. My cockhead is only nominally thicker than my shaft, which, though only 7 inches long, is extremely thick, especially near the base where it is nearly 8 inches in circumference. I certainly wasn\’t thinking about this at the time I was violating canines, and had I thought about it I might never have enjoyed an altogether pleasurable phase of my life.
This phase might have continued throughout my adolescence, had my parents not moved to the United States and left me alone with an old, clueless aunt for company. I should mention that my parents lived back and forth, my dad working in the US from time to time. In fact, in my first 15 years of life, I must have lived 6 with both parents together.
There I was, 13 years old in a lawless country, with deep pockets and nutty friends. The first night my parents were gone, we had an intoxication party that ended with my entire suite (bedroom, living room, bathroom, patio) covered in vomit. In a drunken haze I confessed my bestiality to my friends, and all five of them took turns fucking the shit out of my poor bitches.
The next day we were hung-over, covered in filth, and guilt-ridden. To recover our manliness, we arranged to meet at a whore house that evening. Everyone showed up on time, and I experienced my first \"normal\" sex, if you can call a 13-year-old boy with an ugly 40-year-old hooker in a smelly brothel normal.
For me, the guilt I had and the disgust I felt at the end of each of these excursions I think may have contributed to turning me off from adult women. You could call it aversion-therapy, as each adult sexual experience was mentally associated in me with all those negative connotations. Very soon, I had to get piss-drunk to go, and the hangovers probably added to the aversion.
To make matters worse, I had several live-in maids, but the times were changing, and while my father could have had (and probably did have) sex with any of his maids or peasant girls, I didn\’t find it so easy. Partly through shyness, partly through changing mores, my clumsy early teenage attempts at seducing a procession of lonely, captive girls went mostly unsatisfied.
I say mostly because some maids would flirt with me outrageously, to the point of grabbing my crotch and pinching or cupping my ass, but always would run when I tried to reciprocate. In case you\’re wondering, I was a pretty good-looking kid, and being rich never hurt anyone, especially not in a poor South American countryside.
Finally, good girls (girlfriend material) in that time and place simply didn\’t \"do it.\" I used to say, and mostly still believe, that my country and time corresponded most closely to the 1950\’s US in terms of social behavior.
I thus built up a double frustration: the women I wanted, I couldn\’t have, and the women I had, I didn\’t want. I don\’t mean this to whine, but rather to give a reference for what came next in my sexual evolution (or regression if you prudishly prefer).
CHAPTER 2
My best friend Jose had a modern house with a large swimming pool. More importantly, he had a cute little sister (Maria) 6 years younger than I, and an even cuter cousin (Alex) was 5 years younger than I. Growing up, I would often feed my frustrations playing with them in the pool, holding them by their crotches as I tossed them up in the air. Eventually, I started slipping my hand under their swimsuits, completely nonchalantly, and rubbing their pussies a little. I never said anything, and neither did they. I would hold them in my arms, slip my hand under their swimsuits, rub their clits for a few seconds, then toss them up and out of the water before any of the grownups thought something odd was up. Again, nothing was ever said, but the girls kept coming back for more.
Over time, I realized Maria had a crush on me, while I had developed a crush on Alex. In my father\’s time, it had not been unusual for men to pick girls from a very young age and \"raise them\" to be their wives (Elvis moved Priscilla and his family into his home years before they married and consummated their relationship). Again, times had changed, so I could do this only in a half-joking manner, without attracting strange looks.
Those pool sessions were the farthest I got with either girl during my adolescence, though I did give Alex her first real kiss when she was 11, at the end of a long summer vacation on the lake. The powerful and long-lasting effect of these activities, however, was to turn my sensibilities on to young girls.
CHAPTER 3
For a long time, I took no further steps in that direction, however, and I think I could have turned back. But then, when I was 17 and in the US, just prior to college, one of my dad\’s secretaries, a good-looking woman of 26, fell in love with me and seduced me. We had a powerful, torrid love affair, with each of us driving hours to see the other. She was married with a 6-year-old daughter, but she assured me she and her husband were separated and on a path to divorce. If you guessed already that she left me to return to her husband, you\’re right. To say I was heartbroken is an understatement. I dropped out of college, gained a lot of weight, and spent my days sleeping and eating in my bedroom.
Eventually, I pulled myself together enough to go back to school. Over the next couple of years, I had a few casual sexual encounters with normal women (and a few with hookers). None of these was lasting, and each only served to deepen my despair and distrust of women.
It was in this emotional context and frame of mind that I engaged in a completely inappropriate, not to say criminal, relationship with my own little sister. Terry was 13 years younger than I, and started catching my eye around the time she turned 6. She and I had always been close, in a father-daughter sort of way. Though the last couple of years we had been apart while I was away in college.
We got together with my family for Christmas in Florida, and something about the sun, her tan, her swimsuit, made something click in my mind. I saw her not just as beautiful, but sexy as well. I took a few tame but slightly provocative pictures of her on the beach, with her swimsuit bottoms stuck in the crack of her cute little bubble butt. I had her pose several ways, stretching her long, sexy legs this way and that, pouting her lips and giving little knowing smiles to the camera.
One day, we went to Sea World, and on the long drive back, late in the evening, she was sitting in the backseat of the car cuddled up against me, my brothers sleeping soundly leaning right, my mother asleep in the front passenger seat and I, behind my dad who was driving intently because of the rain. I covered Terry with a jacket, and was rubbing her back, when, almost without thought, my hand drifted to her bottom. I started rubbing her butt cheeks gently, then started pressing a little against her butt crack with my index finger. Slowly, very slowly, I lowered my hand so that my finger would just touch the space between her anus and cunthole. Eventually, I started pressing a little harder, and concentrating on that little spot. After a few minutes, I tried moving my finger up a little more so that I could rub her clit, but her legs were pressed together and I couldn\’t get access without moving her -- possibly drawing unwanted attention from my family.
Something then happened that changed my life: Terry slowly spread her legs for me. At first I thought this was coincidence, but eagerly took the opportunity. My hand crept up her slit, and I started massaging her little clitoris. After several minutes her breathing became ragged, and suddenly her legs squeezed tightly together. After a few agonizing seconds, her legs relaxed again. I rubbed lightly for a few moments more, then began slowly withdrawing my hand. I could have come in my pants when she suddenly tightened her legs again! I waited for her to relax, then slid my hand in again, and repeated the procedure. By the time we got to the hotel, I had given her three orgasms.
The following day, when my parents announced they wanted to go shopping, I begged off. Both my brothers were eager to go, but Terry also asked to stay behind. I waited a good 15 minutes after they left, the longest 15 minutes in my life, before I casually asked Terry if she wanted me to give her a bath. I hadn\’t done that in years, but she quite as casually answered \"Sure.\" In my underpants, I trotted her out to the bathroom and started the water. I helped her take her clothes off, then sat her down in the tub as the water (and my cock) started to rise.
I splashed water on her and tickled her until the tub was full and the room warm and steamy. I asked her to stand and began to lather her up, starting at the top and slowly working my way down. As my hands made their way down her lithe young body, I joked with her about how dirty she was. I rubbed her nipples, pretending they were smudges (I\’ve read many supposedly true stories that describe little girls being aroused by their nipples being stimulated, but it didn\’t happen in this case, nor ever with any little girl I\’ve played with). Then, I rubbed her tummy, nervously working my way around to her backside.
I cupped her beautiful little but cheeks, and started massaging them gently but firmly. Slowly, I spread her cheeks apart and got my first close-up look at her tight little pink anus. I worked my hand around, again joking at how dirty it was. Properly lathered up, I managed to insert just the tip of my left index finger into her anus, then gently slid my right hand up and over her pussy. By this point my voice dropped a few octaves, and I huskily told her she was also very dirty there. Some shred of caution made me ask her if she wanted me to clean that spot extra well. To my eternal thrill, in a small voice she answered \"Yes.\"
I began working up a lather, rubbing her up and down her slit. I turned her sideways so I could stroke her pussy with my right hand as I tenderly tickled her anus with my left. Within minutes she began to come, and shudders racked her little body as she stood naked in my arms. When they subsided, I rinsed her off, then quickly washed her legs and feet. Finally, I gave her a big hug and told her she was all clean. She looked up at me and asked, demurely, \"Aren\’t you going to take a bath too?\"
My hairs stood on end as shivers ran up my spine. In all our years together, I had never taken a bath with her, and she had never seen me naked. I covered up by pretending to be casual, pulling down my shorts as if it were the most natural thing to do, and getting into the tub with her.
She started, as I had, by cleaning my upper body, but clumsily and haphazardly, as a child would with any job they were not trained for. She also played the \"dirty\" game, pretending to rub off my nipples. When she finished my tummy, I got up and she came face to face with my raging hard-on.
She rubbed the shaft with the bar of soap, then the head, smiling all the while. I lifted my leg onto the side of the tub so she could access my scrotum, advising her to be careful because she could hurt me. She gently rubbed her soapy hands all around my balls, slipping her fingers up my butt crack and feeling for my anus. I almost came when she started poking her little finger up my asshole, but managed to hold back.
By this point she had forgotten all about the \"dirty\" game, and was concentrating on looking at, exploring, and rubbing every part of my private anatomy. When I finally could take it no longer, I asked her to grip my shaft and start stroking back and forth. I kept murmuring, \"Yes, just like that sweetheart, don\’t stop.\" When I came, I spurted semen right past her face, barely missing her. She was so surprised she dropped her hands. I had to grab my shaft and pump to keep my orgasm going. I remember it being so intense the bright white bathroom faded to gray. I hate to think what could have happened if I had passed out and bonked my head on the porcelain. Death would have been the least objectionable outcome then!
When I recovered, I sat back down. Terry looked a little worried, so I reassured her with a big hug, telling her in a cheery voice, \"Thanks! I\’m all clean now.\"
We played around a little while, but not sexually any more. Then, we spent the rest of the morning at the beach, doing mostly normal brother-sister things. At one point, though, in the water, I slipped my hand under her suit and massaged her pussy to orgasm. That was the last bit of \"fun\" we had that vacation, as no more opportunities presented themselves.
CHAPTER 4
When summer vacation came, I kept my apartment near college, and had her visit for a couple of weeks. We explored each other much more openly then. We started our first night by taking another bath together, everything proceeding just as it had in Florida, except she was not surprised this time by my jism, and in fact it seemed to entertain her. So much so, in fact, that she worked my cock extra hard as I came, as if she wanted to get as much out of me as possible. We finished up and got dressed.
After that, I changed the game completely, telling her we could play husband and wife. She pretended to cook and I pretended to eat. When she got bored with that, I asked her if she could name some of the other things husbands and wives do together. She named several, but off the mark I was shooting for. I then added that husbands and wives make babies together, and asked if she wanted to pretend. She was excited by the notion, and we went to my bedroom. There, I kissed her as gently as any lover could on her sweet lips, slowly untying her nightie and pulling it off, kissing her naked body as I did so.
I lay her delicate little frame on the bed and kept kissing her, working my way down to her sexy hairless snatch. I began flicking my tongue all around, up her thighs, her pelvic bone, her butt cheeks, always working closer until finally I pounced on her pussy and nibbled like a maniac. She instantly came, shuddering more intensely than she had ever before. I didn\’t stop, though, but rather started licking up and down her crack, spreading her lips apart in search of her clit. When I found it, I concentrated all my efforts on it, flicking my tongue up and down, left and right, until another spasm announced her third orgasm of the night.
I slowed down at that point, since I had learned how sensitive clits can be after climax. Instead, I licked all around, trying to get my tongue in her hole. When that didn\’t work, I used as much spit as I could and slowly started pushing my finger into her virginal vaginal hole. By this point I had been planning ahead, and though I never wanted to cause her any pain, I knew there was something I had to do to avoid a potential premature end to our budding relationship.
I reached over to my nightstand and pulled out a tube of analgesic/anesthetic cream, and squirted some into her pussy. When her hole was lubricated and loosened enough that I could slide my finger in and out easily, I pushed some more cream in and then felt for her hymen. I knew most hymens had a small opening in the middle that grew with age and allowed menstrual flow to pass after puberty. I used my middle finger to tickle her anus as she began to come again, and just as she climaxed, I tore my index finger around her hymen as hard as I could, feeling it give. I didn\’t stop until her orgasm subsided, then quickly pulled my bloodied finger out and covered her crotch with a burgundy washcloth I\’d placed under the mattress for that purpose.
She looked a little confused and pained. I asked her what was wrong. Did she want to stop playing? She said no, that she just hurt a little, but we could play some more. I suggested she keep the towel on because she was a little wet and could stain the bedspread. I then pulled her panties back on over the washcloth and lied down beside her.
I tickled her a little, lightly, up and down her precious tiny body. I then started kissing her lightly on the lips, and finally began licking her lips, slowly inserting my tongue in her mouth. We kissed like that for a while, holding each other and just enjoying the moment - despite my newly awoken hard-on.
After a long while, I asked if she felt better, and she said yes. Then I offered to turn off the lights and go to sleep, but she asked me if we weren\’t going to play with my thingy too. Cold shivers ran down my spine as I asked her if she wanted to. She smiled and jumped up, turning herself around and landing with my cock almost in her face. She glanced up with a playful look at me as she grabbed my rod and started pumping. I winced and jerked as she yanked several hairs out of my scrotum, but managed to avoid startling her too much. I told her that I was dry and it hurt a little like that. She asked if I wanted to go back to the shower, but I had an inspiration.
I pretended I was too tired to get up, but maybe she could get me wet the same way I got her wet? She hesitated for a moment, then tentatively touched the tip of her soft, warm tongue to the side of my shaft. Finding that the taste didn\’t offend her, she started to work her precious tongue up and down the shaft, avoiding my cockhead for the moment. The sensation was unbelievable, and the sight of my gorgeous, sexy 7-year-old baby sister licking my cock was almost too much to bear.
Unable to stand it much longer, I asked if she wanted to do me a special favor: could she please put the tip of my wee-wee in her mouth and lick it like a lollipop? I could tell from her expression she really didn\’t want too, so I asked pretty-please. A little unsure, she nonetheless got up on her knees and lowered her head gently onto my cock, pausing a little to sniff my pre-come before opening her mouth and engulfing me in heaven.
With just a few swirls of her delicious tongue I exploded in orgasm, pumping out what felt like a gallon of semen. She jumped back, coughing and spitting some of the semen out, swallowing some and wiping the rest off her face. My pleasure turned instantly to guilt as I sprang forward, hugging her and thanking her, telling her what a wonderful sister she was, cuddling her in my arms and thanking her for a wonderful pleasure.
Most of her face and some of her chest were smeared with my sperm, and much of that rubbed off on me as we hugged. I led her to the bathroom and drew a bath, then carefully pulled her undies off with the washcloth, sat her in the tub and joined her. I used a good amount of Mr. Bubble so she wouldn\’t notice the small bit of blood still issuing from her vagina. I washed her off carefully, making sure not to do anything sexual since I didn\’t want to scare her off. I understood it was all still a game to her - fun, pleasurable, and naughty, but still a game. I didn\’t want to push too hard and make it seem too serious, because I figured all children must have some instincts that warn them away from engaging in sexual relations before they are ready. Terry may have been eager, but I wasn\’t about to take any chances.
CHAPTER 5
For that same reason, and to give her vagina time to heal, the next two days we spent normally, again as any brother and sister would. I took her to the park, the mall. At night we watched a few animated films I had rented, and went to bed uneventfully.
On the third day, I made it a point to concentrate on my studies, leaving her to play with some toys by herself. Bored, she came up to me a few times and asked if I wanted to play this or that, but I insisted I had to study. This eventually had the effect I was looking for: late in the afternoon she came up to me and suggested we could play husband and wife again. I pretended to be exasperated, but agreed. She was delighted.
I began by playing innocently, her pretending to cook, etc. We followed this with a quick shower, where I brought her almost to orgasm a couple of times, then played by flicking my cock around her face, letting her lick it and suck the head a bit, but not long enough to drive me to the edge. I knew she was starting to get a little frustrated. When we finally made it to the bedroom, I lay her down gently on the bed again, and began kissing and suckling on her whole body, working my way down to her juicy twat. I teased her again, pushing her close to orgasm and retreating, only this time working my finger more aggressively, finally inserting two fingers, deep enough to feel her little cervix.
When I thought she was ready, I stopped and asked if we could play something else. She looked horrified, exclaiming, \"Why?\" This was my cue. I answered that I was bored. She begged me to please keep playing. I then suggested we could play something grown-up, like real married couples do. She asked, \"What?\" \"I could put my wee-wee in your hole,\" I answered. She looked concerned, so I added, \"It feels really good.\" She agreed, half-heartedly.
I re-inserted my two fingers, adding plenty of K-Y lubricant. I then turned her and positioned some pillows so she would be at the right height, and could see everything going on (or rather \"in\"). I then began working my cock into her tight little snatch. She clenched, making it more difficult. I didn\’t want to cause her undue pain, but I was determined to proceed, so I pulled out three dildos I had bought for this reason. The first was small, probably meant for anal penetration, but just the right size for her 7-year-old cunthole. I worked it in slowly, rubbing her clit as I did. When she had relaxed just enough, I inserted the second dildo and started sliding it in and out. By now she was getting used to the new sensation, and was rocking her hips to the motion. I put in the last dildo and began furiously rubbing my little sister\’s snatch as I started pumping hard, always careful not too go too deep and hit her cervix too hard.
Feb 16, 2006 5:14 pm - So for all we know, it’s completely fake. I would have to add, the writing is farther above par than most eggers own writing. So, yeah. Totally fake. 1 only cause some parts were humorous.
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