Chapter 1

This is kind of embarrassing for me. You know all those dirty stories on the internet? All those male fantasies about what guys imagine doing to girls, or having girls do to them? I know that most women, let's say 99.9% of the women out there don't like them. A lot of women are even offended by them. A lot of women like dirty stories, I guess. They just don't enjoy the same types of erotica that guys do.

I'm different. I read them all but I am partial to the nastier, more blatant, in your face type of thing that most guys seem to prefer. I think about those male fantasies all the time. I love them! I needed to say that up front so you would understand what happened to me.

I just turned nineteen. I graduated from high school last year and I have several jobs. Four or five nights a week I work as a waitress at a restaurant in the evening. It depends on how often they need me.

I also work for a cleaning service, cleaning homes during the day. One of the houses I clean once a week is my neighbor's house. Not right next door. He lives a couple of houses down. He asked me about cleaning his house when he found out I was doing it and I do it for him without him having to go through the service. That way I can keep all the money.

He is an older guy. I guess in his early forties. He is kind of good looking. But he has always made me a little nervous. He doesn't talk much. And when he looks at me he has always given me the impression that he could see right through me. It isn't that he was creepy. He was friendly enough and he never said or did anything improper. He even looked at my eyes when we talked! You know how hard it is for a guy to do that.

Every Wednesday I go to Mr. Ford's house and spend about three or four hours cleaning. He works at home and normally, if he is home he stays in his office out of my way. Frequently I don't see him at all while I am there even though he is in his office. His office is the one room that he doesn't pay me to clean.

Today, however, he got a phone call and had to leave shortly after I arrived. He isn't always there when I am cleaning. I have a key that I can use if he isn't there when I come to clean. So it wasn't any big deal for me to be in his house alone. Except that this time I thought I would be nice and vacuum his office for him while he was out. It turned out to be a life changing experience.

I pushed his office door open and started vacuuming. I was careful not to disturb anything. I was almost finished. I just had to move a box in a corner and vacuum under it and I'd be done. Everything would have been fine if it hadn't come open when I disturbed it. It was full of paperback books. I didn't pay any attention to it though. I just moved it, vacuumed under it and moved it back. When I bent down to close the box, some of the titles suddenly caught my eye.

As soon as I realized what I was seeing I exclaimed, "Oh my god!" Just the words on the spines of those books were taking my breath away! They were a collection of what appeared to be a couple of hundred bright red paperback books.

I picked up a few of them and looked at the front covers. They all had pictures of a young woman on the cover in extreme distress. The titles were all about rape and torture. I had never seen anything like them. I had never imagined anything like them!

I didn't even know how I got to my knees. But I somehow found myself kneeling there pulling them out of the box one at a time, looking at the erotic drawings on the covers and reading the titles of the books. Books with titles like "Daughter Degraded" and "Beaten Prisoner Wife" and "Chained, Tortured Schoolgirl" and hundreds more!

I considered 'borrowing' one or two. My entire body was tingling and my heart was beating fast. And that was just from looking at the covers. I wanted very much to read a couple of those books. My curiosity was nearly overwhelming. But I decided that would be a bad idea. I may be a pervert at heart, but I am an honest person. I pushed the box back where I found it and closed the flaps back down. I finished up in the office and went back to cleaning the house.

I did everything I was supposed to do. But today I did it in a fog. I could not get those books out of my mind! Finally I put my cleaning supplies away and picked up the check that Mr. Ford left for me on the kitchen island.

I swear I was on my way out the door. But I couldn't do it. I was certain he wouldn't miss a couple of books. I would return them next week and he'd never know the difference. I ran back upstairs and picked out two interesting titles from the box. I hid them in my bag and left quickly, locking up with my key.

I guess I should tell you something about myself. As I said, I just turned nineteen. I was living with my mother until a couple of months ago when I finally got my own small apartment. Well, it would have to get bigger to be small, it's tiny.

I have a very nice body and I am proud of it. I try to watch my diet. But I don't really have a lot of time for exercise. Hopefully someday my life will be less hectic. I am 5'6", 115 pounds, blonde hair, green eyes, and I have been told that I have a very nice ass. My breasts are a little small, just barely a B cup. I know that most men prefer larger breasts. I think it's something in their DNA. But I am happy with them. I figure sagging won't be as much of a problem when I am older. Besides, it is much easier to buy nice clothes that fit well if you have smaller breasts.

I like sex. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen. I wouldn't say I was promiscuous. I don't sleep with everyone I date and I have never slept with anyone on the first date. But as I said, I like sex. I don't always, or even often, have orgasms from it. Still, it is exciting to have a guy kiss me and touch me and undress me. It turns me on to know how badly he wants me. As the old song says, "I enjoy being a girl".

I am very aware, however, that the second best orgasm I ever had was when Bill Harris was making love to me. He held my hands over my head in one of his strong hands and I felt totally helpless. He stared into my eyes and I felt well and truly taken. He was large and strong and I felt completely overpowered. It was very exciting.

I had my best orgasm, however, when I said "No" to Tom Phillips. We had gone out to dinner and spent a little time at a club. I had to get up early so we couldn't stay too long. He grudgingly took me home and somehow wormed his way into my new apartment. It was my only experience with date rape. He took control as soon as my door closed. We had been dating for a month or so and we had sex a couple of times. Tonight, though, I was not in the mood. I was tired and I was more than a little pissed at him for being such an ass.

As soon as we got into my apartment he started pushing me toward my couch and pulling my clothes off. I had told him no and I had no intention of having sex with him that night. I began trying to fight him off. I wasn't screaming or trying to hurt him. But I was struggling to get away from him and I continued to make it clear to him that I wanted him to leave.

Finally he got tired of it. He used the cloth belt from my dress to tie my hands behind my back. As soon as I was helpless he pulled my dress down to my elbows and pulled by bra up over my breasts. It was very uncomfortable. He ignored my struggles and roughly mauled my breasts while he held me close and forced his tongue into my mouth. I continued to struggle and beg him to stop. He just ignored me.

Finally he pushed me to the floor and bent me down over the seat of the sofa. He pulled my dress up in back and ripped my panties off violently. Then he held me down while he unbuckled his belt and slid it out of the belt loops.

As soon as his belt was free he doubled it over and started beating my ass. As he was beating me he yelled, "Don't you ever say no to me again, god damn it! You fucking tease! You bitches are all alike. You use men to get what you want and send them home with blue balls and think that it's great fun. You fucking bitch!"

I had begun to cry hysterically but he didn't care. He beat my ass for several minutes before he pulled his pants off and raped me from behind.

I knelt there helplessly while he raped me. My hands remained tied behind my back. He had my hair wrapped around his fist in a firm grip and he pulled my head up so that he could see my face while he fucked me. He kept forcing his other hand under me and squeezing and pinching my breasts and my nipples. It was horrible.

But I came harder than I had ever come in my life! I came over and over. I lost track of how many times I came. I had never been so aroused in my life. Some of those rape stories I read on the internet flashed through my mind as Tom violently raped me and I finally screamed. But I screamed in pleasure. I screamed as he gave me one intense orgasm after another.

Tom finally came in me. He stood up and wiped his cock clean in my hair. Then he dressed and left without ever saying another word. It took me almost fifteen minutes to get my hands free!

I sat on my dress on the floor for a long time, sobbing and sad and furious and confused.

Eventually I got up and took a shower. As I washed my sore body I pictured what had happened that night in my mind. When my hands had worked their way down my abused body and I began to wash my sore pussy I was soon on the verge of another orgasm.

Well, I had no reason to disappoint me. So I rubbed myself until I came again. As soon as my orgasm passed I was mad at myself for doing it. But it had felt good.

I never went out with Tom again. I may never be sure if that's because he didn't call again. I honestly don't know if I would have gone out with him again. It was, after all, the best orgasm I ever had at the hands of someone else.

That was several months ago. Now I was rushing home with two paperback books in my bag that I had taken from Mr. Ford's home. I would normally go home after cleaning his home and since I had several hours before I had to be at the restaurant I would search the web for more stories about women being raped and abused and humiliated.

I know. That's sick. But I can't help what turns me on. And it's just harmless fantasy. I would often sit at my computer and read them and run a vibrator over my pussy until I had several nice orgasms. Then I would get ready to go to work in the restaurant.

If I didn't feel like reading the stories I would sometimes look for men in chat rooms with similar tastes. I was often tempted to meet them. They tried so hard to talk me into it. Those chats really fed my fantasies. I would get so turned on by the idea of allowing some guy to violate me and abuse me that it was almost irresistible. I really thought that it would be exciting to experience some of the things that I read about. But I never had the nerve to meet them and I knew that I never would. I may not always do the right thing. But I'm not that stupid.

Today, however, I got home and sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the drawings on the covers of the two books I had taken and I imagined what it would be like if I was the young woman in those pictures.

I quickly dropped my clothing into a pile on the floor and pulled a vibrator out of my nightstand. I don't think it took me an hour to read the first book. And I had to stop frequently to have one fantastic orgasm after another.

When I finally got to the last page of the book I turned off my vibrator and looked at myself. My thighs and the bedspread under me were soaking wet. My pussy was actually sore from an hour of violent masturbation. I groaned when I sat up. My stomach muscles were sore from clenching during all those orgasms.

I got up and remade my bed. I put the books in my nightstand and went to the bathroom on rubbery legs to take a shower. The shower calmed me down and cooled me off and I started getting ready for work.

I dressed and went out to my little kitchenette. I brought the book I had just read with me. I made a salad and leafed through the book again, re-reading some of the really hot parts while I ate. I was saving the second one for tomorrow.

I began getting turned on again and I decided I had best do something to take my mind off of it before I went to work. I couldn't work with my juices soaking my panties.

I put the book down and turned on the TV and stared at it. But I didn't hear a word. I just kept imagining myself being taken. Being undressed and forced to have sex with two or three large, mean, men. Being forced to service them and humiliate myself for their amusement. All of that rough, nasty, dirty, degrading sex that I had just read about, I couldn't get it out of my mind!

That night at work I did a terrible job. My friends kept asking me if something was wrong. I couldn't stop thinking about the images in that book. It's a good thing it was a slow night.

I was exhausted when I got home. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be to fall into a deep sleep. I didn't masturbate before I went to sleep. I was exhausted. But all night long I experienced vivid dreams inspired by that book I had taken. I should have been horrified. To any normal woman they would have been nightmares, but not to me.

When I awoke the next morning the first thing I did was get the second book out and grab my vibrator. This time I was smart enough to put a towel under my ass before I started though. I noticed before I started though, that my pussy was already pink and swollen and my pubic hair was moist from my juices.

Just like I had with the first book, I read the second book cover to cover in about an hour. As I read I had one powerful orgasm after another. I almost called in sick at my house cleaning job. I wanted to read both books again. I think that the only reason I didn't was that my pussy was getting sore and my wrist was getting tired. My stomach was getting sore again from all of the muscle contractions when I reached orgasm. Besides, if I didn't want to have to move back in with my mother I was going to have to keep the money coming in.

I showed up for work at ten that morning. My partner and I drove to our first house and went to work. Cleaning other people's homes isn't the most exciting job in the world. But once you get it down to a routine it isn't that hard either and it pays pretty well.

The woman I work with, Joyce, noticed that I looked tired and distracted. I told her that I had worked late last night. Joyce is a nice woman. I like her. But she isn't someone I know well enough to share secrets with.

As that thought went through my mind I realized that I didn't have anyone in my life that I could share that kind of secret with. I had friends. But I had only had one very close, best friend. I miss her. Since she got married we aren't as close as we once were. We both have busy schedules. We still get together when we can. But it isn't like it was when we were in school.