Chapter 1

Most of my friends just love to bitch about their Moms, but I've never understood that. My Mom has always encouraged me to be myself and it use to bother me but now I accept myself for what I am and I love it: I'm a slut.

This all started a few years ago just after I started high school. It wasn't as bad as it could have been but I was pretty lonely. Most of my friends were in other schools and I'd never been very good at school. See in middle school I'd been in a special class with very small class sizes and it gave the teacher a lot of time with each child. Now I was taking a special curriculum called non-standard students or nothing special to the other kids. Most of us knew we were dumb but we didn't like to be reminded of it. Plus then I was still kind of flat-chested and a little awkward looking, OK I wasn't ugly but guys always seemed to be looking at the other girls and I never knew what to talk about with other kids my age. At that point I felt I would have done anything to be noticed by a good looking boy.

See about a year earlier I started playing with myself. It made me feel so guilty and dirty but I just couldn't stop and I'd tried. Once I stopped for a week and then one night when I was having trouble sleeping I started adjusting myself and ended up rubbing myself against the pillow.

The more time that passed the more I seemed to need it. Sometimes during lunch hour with no one to talk to and not liking to read I'd sneak off to one of the bathrooms and guiltily rub myself off till I came. Then I'd slink out of the class feeling dirty no matter how many times I washed my hands. When I passed other girls who were pretty and confident and laughing I could never picture them doing ... well doing that to themselves ... or if they did then they certainly didn't do it as much as I did ... they didn't need it.

One day on the bus home from school the bouncing started to get to me and I closed my eyes and started to think about some of the boys in my school, imaging dancing with them, or feeling their arms holding me tight and telling me I was the most beautiful girl in the world and then I imagined their hands caress me, unbuttoning my blouse...

The bus stopping brought me to my senses. It was my stop, and right now I needed to get home. In my room I stripped naked, throwing my clothes across the room and yanking the sheets and covers off my bed. Closing the door at the last minute and forgetting to lock it ... soon I was naked on my back with my legs spread wide. The blinds were closed the room had a shadowy look to it. It was cool, like being in a hut in the jungle. It slipped into the fantasy so deep that it blocked out everything else.

Once I'd been playing with myself in a public bathroom in the mall and when I came down from the high I could hear two ladies outside talking. When I left the stall I'd felt like a degenerate, I didn't want to wash my hands but I couldn't go around with my hands smelling like my vaginal juices all day, so turning different shades of red I washed my hands and pretended nothing was wrong, the ladies didn't say anything I think they were just being nice. Anyway the point is I tend not notice things when I'm playing with myself which is why I didn't notice Mom until she was standing beside me looking serious.

Ohmygodohmygod. This isn't happening, I thought to myself as I looked for something to cover myself but I'd thrown my clothes and even my sheet and blanket pillows to the other side of the room.

"I wanted to talk but shall I wait until you're finished?" Instead of waiting for answer she asked, "What are you doing?"

Tears of shame rolled down my face, I couldn't lie to her, and I couldn't bring myself to admit it out loud. Why did she have to stand there, the best I could do was cover myself with my hands.

"I'm sorry Mom." She sat down beside me and smiling, she gently moved my hands away from my body.

"It's a little late to be worried about modestly. Now I want to know what you think you're doing."

I had to say the words out loud. "I'm playing with myself." I felt my sense of shame starting to crack again.

"How often do you do this ... and don't you lie to me, I can always tell."

"Please Mom can I put something on?"

"Maybe afterwards, for now just tell me."

"Every day." Mom shook her head, "I'm sorry Mom. I try not to do it but sometimes..."

"Sometimes what?"

I decide not to lie to Mom, "Sometimes I can't help myself and it's just too strong. I'm sorry..." I started to cry again and my head fell down to my chest. Mom lifted my head and looked me in the eye wiping my tears away.

"Why are you sorry?"

I knew it wasn't exactly wrong but it seemed to be a sign of weakness, as though I was controlled by my urges.

"Because I'm acting like a slut," I said, I was tearing up but my voice didn't crack. Then Mom shocked me.

"And what if you are?" I couldn't understand what Mom meant. I just stared at her the way I stared at my teachers: dumbly. "Is there anything wrong with being a slut?"

"But Mom all the girls at school use it like an insult."

"Well either you're a slut or you're not. I think if you're a slut you find out and then accept it about yourself. I mean if a person was happy being fat, should they change just to fit in?"

It didn't seem right to me but I couldn't argue with Mom's logic and besides there's a lot of things I don't understand, it doesn't mean they don't work.

"So Mom, are you saying that you think I'm a slut?" It made me feel unclean to imagine my mother saying that about me.

"Well after what you told me I'd be hard pressed to argue the idea. Do you want to know for sure?"

"I guess so," I said meekly.

"OK, I've got a test then that I'd like to try." Mom moved us around so she was leaning against my headboard and my back was leaning against her chest. It shocked me when Mom slid my legs apart.

"Mom, I'm not sure about this."

"Just relax, don't be a baby." Mom began stroking my lips. "If this turns you on then we'll know for sure."

It felt so weird and uncomfortable at first, but I didn't have it in me to just stand up and get dressed.

"Mom, I don't like this. Can we stop now?" Even though this felt good, I really wanted Mom to stop touching me.

"Not yet dear. This isn't long enough to know anything." So I had to keep going, I had to trust Mom.

Soon enough my body betrayed me. That electric tingle started traveling though my body. No, this couldn't be happening to me.