Chapter 3: Joy’s Story

Uncle Brad says you’re doing research about sexually abused teenagers. So you want to know about me? I don’t consider myself sexually abused now. I fuck a lot, but it’s because I want to, not because I have to. But I guess you could say I was in that category once, so here’s my story.

You don’t mind if I take my clothes off, do you? I hate clothes. Especially bras. I have to wear one at school. Not because I need support, obviously, but because my nipples poke through my shirts and the boys stare at me, which makes me a “distraction” in class. I’ve got really long, fat nips for a girl my age, and they’re almost always hard. So I have to wear these stupid hard-cup bras in school. They won’t let me wear yoga pants in school, because yoga pants show my cunt crack a little too clearly. I don’t see a problem with it, because it shows what a cunt looks like, but for some reason you can’t show a cunt crack in school. They call it “indecent.” Like boys are never going to see a cunt crack in their lives!

Ah, that’s better! You can take your clothes off, too, if you want to. I don’t mind. In fact, I like to see naked men, especially if they have nice dicks. Go ahead! And if your dick gets hard while I’m telling you about me, I won’t mind at all! In fact, I expect it. That’s what happens when a guy sees a bare pussy. It’s entirely normal. You can even wank if you want to. I’ll probably be wanking before long. It’s what I do when I’m naked and talking about my sex life.

I’m fourteen. You could say that that’s pretty young for a girl who’s done as much fucking as I have, but once you hear my story it will make sense. I hope.

I’ve been with my Uncle Brad and Aunt Betty for four months now, and with their swingers group for almost that long. I go to Pasadena High, but I don’t know anybody there yet, really, because I grew up in Seattle. Jessie and Dana, my best friends, go there, too, but they’re two grades ahead of me, so I don’t see them much except at our weekend orgies. They’re in my swingers group, you know. Funny how I see them more often when they’re naked than when they’re wearing clothes! They hate clothes, too, so we’re always naked when we’re together. Sometimes it leads to sex, but what’s wrong with that?

I don’t really remember my dad. He split when I was three. Nobody’s seen him since. Nobody knows if he’s even alive. Mom had been supporting us with her artwork, when she could sell it.

So I grew up in this sort of artist’s commune in Seattle. A bunch of adults and some children my age. All us kids were home-schooled. That was okay, though, because now that I’m going to a public school, I’m way ahead of all the kids my age. They’re talking about moving me up a grade, so I won’t be so bored. I wish they’d move me up two grades, so I could be with Dana and Jessie, but they think that I’m too young to be in their class.

We all went naked around the house whenever we wanted to, so I got to see all the tits and cunts on the women and the dicks and balls on the men. Sometimes, the men’s dicks would get hard, and then they’d go off with a woman or another man for a while, and when they came back, their dicks would be soft again. So I figured that it had something to do with what they did when they were in their bedrooms. One of the older kids told me that it was called “fucking” or “having sex” or “making love” but they didn’t tell me any more than that, and I really didn’t care.

All us girls shared a bedroom, and we didn’t have enough beds for all of us, so I’d be sleeping with them all the time, two or three to a bed. It was just snuggling, no sex. But it felt so right to have somebody else in the bed with me, and I’d be lonely if I were all alone. To this day, I’ve got to have somebody in bed with me when I go to sleep, or I don’t get a good night’s sleep at all.

I’ll be honest with you about the commune. There were drugs around. Mostly weed and sometimes mushrooms. But they wouldn’t give it to us kids. And the commune didn’t want any meth or opioids around at all. When I was ten, my mother broke her leg and the doctor gave her oxy-something. She got addicted to it, and when she couldn’t get any more with a prescription, she found two men who could give her skag. You know, heroin. She really got hooked on that. That’s when we got kicked out of the commune, two days after I turned fourteen.

So we lived in Mom’s van for a week, and then two men who were giving Mom her drugs said that we could stay with them. They had the second floor of a three-story house that had been cut up into apartments. By that time, Mom was so zoned out that she wasn’t making hardly any money with her art, so we moved in with them and they gave us food and a roof over our heads. And they gave Mom all the H she needed. In exchange, they expected her to fuck them any time they wanted. And they wanted us to be naked in their house, because they liked seeing Mom that way. I didn’t have a problem with that, since that’s the way I was raised, anyway. They sometimes looked at me hard, especially at my pussy and my chest, because I was just starting to grow boobs, and I always had big nipples for my age. I knew they wanted to fuck me, too. And that was all right with me, because I was curious about the whole thing.

Bo was the older guy, maybe forty or so. Link was his son, I think. He was nineteen or twenty. Bo really had a thing for Mom, and he’d fuck her right in front of me, on a mattress in the living room. Then Link would fuck her. That was the first time I saw actual fucking. Mom looked like she was enjoying it, but I don’t think they ever got her off, really, because she was too stoned to get very aroused. Anyway, it solved the mystery of why a guy’s cock gets hard and then gets soft again after it goes into a girl’s cunt.

It was Link who fucked me first, the second week we were there. Mom protested, but Bo talked to her and they went into the bedroom for a while and when they came back out, she had this dreamy dopey look on her face and I knew that she’d just shot up. And she told me that Link and Bo could fuck me if they wanted, and I should let them. Did I complain? Well, I didn’t think I had any choice in the matter. If I refused, they might kick us out and we’d be homeless again. And, if you want to know the truth, I’d get horny when I watched Mom screw them. She obviously enjoyed it, and I was curious to find out why.

Well, Link took me to his bed, which was a just mattress on the floor of his bedroom. I lay on my back and he forced my legs apart and jammed his dick up into me. It hurt a little at first, but the pain went away after a while. He lasted for about two minutes, and then he jizzed, although I didn’t know what jizzing was at the time. I thought that all the wet was coming from me. I felt him go soft inside me. And then he said, “Did I do all right?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. What else could I say? I had nothing to compare it to, really. And I didn’t know my hymen had been ripped, because I didn’t even know what a hymen was. There was some blood, but I thought it was maybe because I was starting my period early. He mumbled something about it being good for him, too, and then I felt his dick slide out of me, and the show was over for that night. When we fucked again the next morning, it didn’t really hurt at all.

That was the first time I ever had anything up my cunt besides a tampon. Well, I figured that cocks were meant to go up cunts, and people enjoyed doing it, so it was no real surprise to me that there would be some pleasure in the act once the pain was over.

Mom and I had breakfast after the guys left, and she told me about my hymen and said that there probably wouldn’t be any pain anymore. She also said that we were basically there to be fucked, but since the guys were giving us food and shelter and protection, we should just go along with it, because there were plenty of women in Seattle who didn’t even have that much, so we should be thankful. That’s why I never really thought about running away from there, even if I could. And, to tell the truth, I enjoyed the sex, even if I didn’t cum.

The next night, it was Bo who fucked me, and it was just like with Link. he fell asleep as soon as he shot his load. Junkies are the worst screws, because of the junk. Mom taught me how to suck their dicks to get them hard, and I’d sometimes have to blow them for an hour before they got hard enough to fuck us. Then they’d fuck us, and then they’d pass out. Mom would sometimes pass out, too, after she got fucked.

That became our routine. After the guys came home, at around nine in the evening, one of them would screw me and the other one would screw Mom. Then we’d sleep with our partner and fuck him again the next morning. Sometimes in the morning, I wouldn’t be wet enough to be comfortable, so my guy would let me blow him instead. All he wanted was to get his rocks off. When he came, I had this funny taste in my mouth, and I realized that that was his jizz. It had the same taste as the stuff that sometimes oozed out of my cunt after the guys fucked me. It tasted like beer sometimes.

As soon as the men were finished with us in the morning, they’d get dressed and go off for the day, and we wouldn’t see him again until the next evening. Mom and I would eat breakfast and then she’d paint in the little studio she’d made in the dining room, and I would read magazines that I’d fished out of the recycling bin in front of the house, that the other residents had tossed. I didn’t go to school. In the afternoon, Mom would get dressed and go off to sell her art, and I’d stay home and watch TV. We never had one in the commune, so I got to see all these shows about how people were supposed to live, how they all had happy families, and some of them had superpowers, and like that. I figured that it was all bullshit, because my life never looked like that. My life was all about getting fucked, and making the best of that.

If I wasn’t watching TV, I’d be masturbating. I was horny all the time, so I’d get myself off with the handle of a screwdriver or a Magic Marker or whatever would fit into my box. Or I’d take my mom’s hair drier and blow the warm air over my pussy and tits. If I did it just before the men came home in the evening, I’d be wet enough to get screwed without it hurting so much at first. And I started playing with my clittie, and I found that the more I played with it, the more sensitive it got.

I guess you could say that that’s when my obsession with sex started. I never really got an orgasm then, just a really, really nice feeling. I used to call that feeling my “Happy Place.” In a way, it sort of replaced the feeling of security that I used to have at the commune. And I tried to get there whenever I could. So when those guys were fucking me, it was just me being in my Happy Place for a little while. It wasn’t personal, in either a positive or negative way. I didn’t hate them, or what they were doing to me.

Bo complained that I didn’t have hardly any tits. “Just nipples on a chest,” he used to say, which wasn’t really true, because my boobs were starting to grow. He liked Mom better, ‘cause Mom had bigger boobs that were even a little saggy, and he liked to suck on her fat nips to turn her on. But Link didn’t mind fucking me. “A cunt’s a cunt,” he’d say. Well, a dick’s a dick, too, I figured. It didn’t make any difference which guy’s dick it was. Their dicks felt about the same, and they lasted about the same time, maybe two or three minutes before they blew their load and either fell asleep, if it was night, or got up and dressed and left the house if it was morning. That was the extent of my love life, if you want to call it that. That’s what I thought sex was all about ... feeling good about having a hard dick in me for a little while, or getting myself aroused with a screwdriver handle or a hair drier or my fingers.

I’ve realized later that I was a lucky kid, because it could have been much worse. Mom put me on birth control after the first day, because she realized that our job was to gratify them sexually. That’s all they expected of us. She also insisted that we get checked out for VD. The tests came back negative, so I dodged that bullet. Bo and Link swore that they weren’t fucking any other women besides me and Mom, because they didn’t need to. We were their fuck-whores. If they were lying, at least all the women they were screwing were clean.

I was getting screwed twice a day, usually. Once in the morning, before the men went off to wherever they went, and once after they’d shot up when they got back. Mom would take one of them, and I’d take the other. I don’t know what they actually did, besides sell dope. There were some motorcycle magazines around the house, so I guess they were bikers, too. They never ate at the house, they’d just give Mom some money and she’d go out and buy groceries for us. And beer and whiskey for them. They almost never showered at home, but they never needed showers, so I guessed that they were showering at the place where they worked, like a garage of something.

Well, that’s the way it was for about two months. It all ended one morning. I was in Link’s bed, because he’d just fucked me. Then all hell broke loose. I heard something clumping up the stairs. I went into the hall and as I stood there naked, with Link’s cum dripping from my cunt, I saw two guys come in with a gurney, and they went into Bo’s bedroom, and then they came out with my mom on the gurney. I begged them to let me ride in the ambulance with them, and they said OK, so I put on a bathrobe and went with them. At the hospital, they took Mom away, and then a doctor came out and said that she was dead. I figured it was from an OD, and I found out later that I was right.

Then a woman from CPS ... I think that means Child Protective Service ... came out and asked me about Link and Bo. I told her what I knew about them and what they did with Mom and me. She drove me back to the house with two cops, and the place was cleaned out. No Bo, no Link. They’d blown town and left not a trace. Just my stuff and my Mom’s. Well, they weren’t going to put me back in the custody of two drug dealers, anyway, so I stayed that night with her while her office researched my family. That was the first night I ever slept alone, and I was so lonely I could hardly sleep at all. They also took a sample of Link’s cum from my cunt and tested me for STDs.

It turned out that Mom’s older brother Bradley was the only relative they could find, so they asked him and his wife to take me in. They put me on an airplane, and Brad and Betty picked me up at the airport. It felt strange to call them “Aunt” and “Uncle,” because I never knew them as family. They were just nice people who took me in and gave me a home when I needed one. I had my own bedroom, with a queen-size bed. It was nice, but I was still lonely at night. I thought about asking Brad and Betty to let me sleep with them, but I didn’t know them well enough. So I just wanked to put myself to sleep for an hour or two.

Brad took me to a counselor, which the Seattle court ordered for kids like me who’d been raped. When I explained how I didn’t mind being fucked because I was horny all the time, she said that some people were sex addicts, like other people were drug addicts or gambling addicts. She called it “hypersexuality.” They had personalities that lent themselves to things like that. That made sense to me, and helped me understand what my mom had gone through with her drugs. She also said that I was the youngest person she’d ever seen who was “hypersexual,” and it could be a problem if it started interfering with the rest of my life, but it didn’t do any harm to “pleasure myself,” as she put it. I felt better about myself then, but it really didn’t solve the problem of how to get laid, or even just get somebody to sleep in the same bed with me.

One night in the second week I was there, I got up to go to pee, but I heard some moaning in the master bedroom. I opened the door to see if they were all right, and I saw them fucking. He’d just cummed into her and was rolling off her, and then he saw me. They looked really startled. Brad tried to cover up his dick, which was wet and still kinda hard. It was bigger than Link’s or Bo’s dicks were.

“It’s OK,” I said. “I’ve seen people fuck before. Can I come in?”

“Do you think you should?” Betty asked as she wiped the cum from her cunt with the bed sheet.

“Yes, please! I can’t sleep alone. I need to sleep with people. I’ve always done that. With Mom and other girls. And those men.”

“What do you mean, ‘sleep’?”

“Well, with men, it meant ‘fucking,’ too, but with Mom, we just slept. And I used to share beds with the girls when I lived in Seattle.”

“You’ve fucked men?” I realized just then that Betty hadn’t been told about that.

So I sat down on the bed and told her about Link and Bo, and how I was basically their sex slave for two months. When I was done, Betty was hugging me and saying, “Poor baby!” over and over again. “You don’t have to do that anymore. You’re safe now!”

“But I need to sleep with other people!” I said. “And I need to fuck! It makes me feel good! I miss it so bad!”

Brad was staring at my pussy, like he’d never seen one before. He’d probably never seen one as bald as mine was, at least since the time his daughters were out of diapers. I’m sure he was imagining his boner going in and out of it. Jessie, the girl in my swingers group, told me later that he really had a thing for pubescent teen-age girls like me. So what I said next was music to his ears.

I said, “Betty, would you let me fuck Brad? Please? I’m on the pill...”

“Honey, he’s your uncle!”

“Is that bad?”

“Well, it’s just not done. It’s illegal.”

“I won’t tell anybody. Please, I need to screw. I miss it so much...”

“I understand, baby. Hey, I need it, too. Look, you can sleep with us tonight, but no fucking, OK?”

And that’s what we did. I took my pee, and then joined them in their bed, snuggling against Brad’s back while Betty put her arms around my waist. I could feel her boobs pressing into my back, just like Mom’s used to. It was the first time I really felt happy and secure since I left the commune. That was the first really good sleep I had since Mom died.

When I woke up in the morning, Betty was already up, and she was fixing breakfast. Brad’s dick was hard even though he was still asleep. So I stroked it, and he woke up, and he said “Betty?”

“No,” I said. “It’s Joy. It’s all right, Brad. Please let me do this. It isn’t fucking, is it?”

He smiled at me and let me play with his boner. I finished it the way Bo sometimes liked, with him cumming into my mouth. To my mind, that wasn’t fucking. His cum tasted better than Bo’s or Link’s. Then he kissed me and we snuggled for a while. It was great to have a guy who didn’t fall asleep or get dressed and leave as soon as he came. He didn’t touch my pussy, though. I would have wanted that. But since he didn’t do it, I figured that he was like Link or Bo, not interested in me once he’d cummed. They’d hardly ever touched my pussy, either, except to see if I was wet enough to fuck, not that it really mattered very much to them.

So I got up to pee. When I came back, Brad was gone. They’d given me a bathrobe, so I went back to my bedroom to put it on, and then I went downstairs. I found him eating breakfast with Betty. They were talking, almost arguing, so I didn’t interrupt them for a while. But I was hungry, too, so I finally made a bowl of cereal and joined them at the table.

“Are you really on birth control, honey?” Betty asked.

“Yeah. Two months now. I’ve been fucking once or twice a day, and no babies. Mom was real strict about me staying on schedule.”

“Well, we decided that if you wanted to sleep with us, you can. You can even fuck Brad, if you wanted to. We want you to be happy. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I was so happy to hear that! And she said I didn’t have to wear clothes around the house if I didn’t want to, as long as I put a towel down wherever I sat. They were nudists, and only got dressed when they were going out of the house. The only reason that they’d been dressed at home was for me.That was the first day I went entirely naked since I left Seattle, and it made me feel really at home for the first time.