Wednesday, October 2, 2013
My name is Celia. My friends call me Cee-Cee. I am mentioned on page 13 of Jena's diary, in the entry for Friday, October 4, 2013. I have no idea who Jena is.
The diary was express-mailed from San Diego; California two Monday's ago. Because it came via registered mail and had to be signed for, Mom took me to the post office Wednesday after school to get it. The envelope was mailed from a law firm called Mann, Caldwell and Burgess. Inside the big envelope was another, smaller envelope containing 23 handwritten pages of diary entries. I was blown away. It was a joke. Of course it was a joke.
Of course, Mom insisted on reading the stupid thing and was just furious about it. (Of course she was.) She called long distance to California and demanded to talk to the person responsible for sending the envelope, wanting to know what kind of pervert had written it and why it was sent to me. She got twice as furious when the man refused to answer any of her questions. The law firm was not in a position to divulge the client's name or offer any information concerning the envelope, he told her. If she wanted to contact the police or another law firm concerning the contents, she was at liberty to do so. Mann Caldwell and Burgess would respond accordingly.
I thought Mom would blow a gasket and slam the phone down and break it into a thousand little pieces. She surprised me, though; placing the handset into the charger unit like it was made of glass and just staring at it, looking perturbed. Throw the damned thing away, she told me. But of course, I didn't.
There are no real vampires and no 14-year-old girl can fly and time travel. That's just bullshit. Of course it is. But the Barksdale's are real people and I've confirmed that Timothy Barksdale had a sister named Nicole and they lived in a farmhouse on Lovett's Road in Stevens, just like Jena said in her diary. The house was torn down in 1988. Spring Lake Community Center is there now, which is where I went Monday after school to check the place out. Inside, I discovered pictures down one corridor showing the center being built. The big farmhouse and barn are there in the pictures, just as Jena described them, before, during and after being demolished. There is no mistaking the four big, stone chimneys, and the roof could be made of slate, though I couldn't tell for sure. The barn was nearly as big as the farmhouse (maybe even bigger) and I think they built tennis courts where the barn used to be. It was like seeing a ghost in a photograph. I was so creeped out, all the way home. I am still creeped out.
Following are the 23 pages of Jena handwritten diary.
I hate sucking cock. I don't care whose cock it is; if it goes in my mouth and gets hard and stays hard and eventually shoots cum down my throat I hate it. If ever a day goes by without me sucking cock—and oh, should that ever come true! —I would be SO GRATEFUL!
I attend Martin Luther King High School in Millersville, MD. I am a freshman, raw out of Christa McAuliffe Middle School, one of 242 students in my 9th grade class. Us girls make up 56% of the student population and number 133 of the total freshies. Eventually, I will suck the cock of every damned remaining freshman. Before the Christmas break too. I've made a remarkable start, actually; it's barely October and I've knocked off 41 boys. Only 68 left and then I can start on the sophomores, LOL.
Right now I'm naked. It's 2:37 a.m. on Wednesday morning, the 2nd of October 2013. I'm writing this on my little Toshiba netbook. It's a hand-me-down from my brother and I wouldn't trade it for every laptop in the world. It's almost as tiny as me, and fits easily into my backpack so I can take it with me everywhere. The Word file I'm writing into is password protected (JenaHatesToSuck) so I don't have to worry about unauthorized eyes ever reading it, which you can guess is anyone's eyes but mine.
I'm not the smallest girl in school but I'm in the top five. I stand 4'10" tall, weight 85 lbs, and wear Size 00 jeans. You can guess my bra size, and my waist is small enough that guys with really big hands can encircle it, fingertip to fingertip. My hips are not much bigger than my waist and I have really skinny legs, but boys like me anyway.
I'm a virgin, except for my mouth. I've never had a hand on my boobies and never had one down my panties, though guys have tried. A couple got me unsnapped and a couple got me unzipped, and once, a boy named Terrell felt me through the front of my panties, but always I made them stop. No boy I've ever sucked knows I did it to him. To everyone, I am still a virgin.
I only suck boys. I've sucked my school bus driver's son, David, and I sucked the vice principal's son at MLK, and Ms. Frenchette, the principal's son too. Jamie is hot. OMG, yes, he's so hot!
I love being naked. I'd open my blinds and let every boy in the neighborhood see me naked, but my boobs are a total embarrassment--I'd die if one of my selfies ever made it onto the Internet. The webcam is on and I'm watching myself in a little box at the bottom of the screen. If I lean back like this, I can see my little boobies. They'd make me laugh, if they didn't make my cry. (Emily Browning in Sleeping Beauty. That's as close as you'll ever get to me being naked, LOL.)
I'm missing a toe. Let me haul my right foot up high enough for the camera to see it. It happened when I was five years old in a bicycle accident. The sprocket took a hunk out of the toe beside it too, and if you look real close, you can see I don't have a toenail on that toe. It's embarrassing, not having a little toe, but hardly anyone notices. Well, hardly any guys do. Girls always notice. Girls miss nothing.
Girls are cruel. I get so much abuse from girls, mostly from my friends, and always about my boobs or how skinny I am. I hate being skinny but I am deathly afraid of putting on even a pound. Chloe says I am the poster child for anorexia. She's probably right. I'd get a little bigger if I put on a little weight; I guess ... I could be a Size 1, maybe.
Have you ever tasted cum? It's so horrible, isn't it? Bitter and slimy and vomit inducing. The stuff always makes me gag, but I swallow it anyway, because that is what I do: suck cock and swallow cum.
One night I almost ended up in the hospital having my stomach pumped.
Emily Browning is cute. If I were to make it with another girl, I'd want it to be Emily Browning.
I should go check my door. I know it's locked, but I have my desk lamp on and if Mom or Dad goes to the bathroom and sees the light shining under my door, they'd come knocking and want to know why I'm up on a school night. Like I could sleep, you know? I haven't slept a moment since discovering what I am.
What am I? Not a vampire, because vampires get to sleep during the day and experience a break from this unrelenting, 24-hour a day, 7 day a week awareness. And instead of blood, sperm is my sustenance.
Mom and Dad are not like me. Robbie is not like me. Neither is Clare nor anyone else in our family--not that I know of anyway. I've never met anyone like me and wonder if any others exist. If so, I sure pity them.
I could go to bed and play with myself, I guess. Other than being cum-dependent and totally unable to sleep, I'm pretty much a normal 14-year-old. All my parts work right and I enjoy how I'm put together. My clit works the same as the girl's next door and my vagina is just as wet and subject to yeast infections as anyone's. My ovaries dispense eggs every month and I bleed like a stuck pig. My cramps are intolerable. I get horny and diddle myself in bed and enjoy taking hot baths. I dream of losing my cherry. I shiver thinking how a boy will someday put his cock up my ass and maybe I'll like it. Someday a boy will come in my mouth and remember that he did it the next day. Someday my eyes will rise and meet his, and I'll smile as I swallow his jism. Someday maybe I'll even have a baby with someone. Imagine me huge and pregnant with twins.
I'm wet. I sit here typing and know in moments I'll throw on some clothes and leap out the window and find me a cock to suck. Did I mention that I fly?
Thursday, October 3, 2013
I'm naked again. My blinds are cracked ever so slightly, just enough that someone with binoculars could see horizontal strips of me through the slats. Maybe put together a complete image of me using a mental version of Photoshop. The thought of it has my nipples hard and gooseflesh pimpling my arms and chest. I have never done this before and blame this idiocy on my musing last night in this very same journal. Bad Jena girl! Spank spank!
I was bad last night, too. I pulled off my hoodie and took off my bra and sucked the first boy topless, enjoying my nipples. I went so far as to slip out of my sweats and finish sucking him off in just my panties and sneakers. In Bedroom Number Two, I remained clothed, but enjoyed a middle finger on my clitty the entire time. Just before dawn I unsnapped my bra and enjoyed the looseness of it against my bare boobs and nipples. I got home just a few minutes before sunup. Who is this strange creature in my bedroom, I wonder?
I ate a peach today at lunch. It almost made me urk, but stayed down somehow and even now is percolating through my innards, delivering shock after shock to my bewildered digestive system. Poor unsuspecting bowels. Knowing it will come out the far end in just a few hours has me delirious with anticipation. I pee all the time, sure, but I poop maybe twice a year. Not a lot of solids in sperm, you know?
.... There is more of this story ...