Chapter 2

I think my reputation intimidated the guys at Vicksburg Middle

School. They were friendly and polite, but no one asked me out. There was one guy that I thought was cute and tried to talk to him, but he called me a skank and walked away. It hurt me for a while but I got over it. If he didn't want me, there were plenty of other guys who did.

I missed my period in December and again in January and I knew why. My life seemed to be spiraling out of control. I was smoking over a pack of cigarettes a day, smoking pot and drinking every day, shoplifting whenever I wanted something, doing Ecstasy every weekend at parties and at times snorting coke just to keep up with Rachael and all the demands from guys wanting sex.

I couldn't go anywhere without guys coming on to me. Our phone rang constantly from guys looking for me and guys would show up at our door at all hours wanting me. Rachael assured me that was a good thing, but I had my doubts.

I had literally gallons of sperm shot into or onto my body for months and now that I was a "three hole whore", I was able to fuck even more guys, with Rachael's help that is.

She coached me, encouraged me and guided me in ways no one could possibly imagine.

At times when I was too exhausted to continue gang fucking guys, she'd be there to support and cheer me on. It also helped when she tapped out a line or two of coke to give me a second wind. As strange as it appears now, it seemed perfectly normal then.

Rachael and I continued our "mission" to fuck every guy we could until February when she told me her father was being transferred to California. That crushed me. My soul mate, my partner in crime and my on-going lover was leaving me.

The day before she left we went to one last big party together.

She wanted to leave with a bang and there was a ton of guys there. The bang she wanted ended up being a gang bang for me and I was fucked senseless for hours. She of course was on her period again and couldn't fuck but she sure sucked a lot, keeping the guys on deck hard.

It was after 3 AM when we got out of there and headed to her house. We knew my mom would be home and didn't want to show up smelling like a whore house in case she was awake. Besides we already told her I was spending the night with Rachael.

After I got cleaned up we sat on the floor in her bedroom to talk. The movers had been there earlier and removed all the furniture and all we had to sit on was a blanket. We laughed and talked for a while and then she kissed me and told me she loved me.

That made me feel good and strange at the same time. "I want to tell you something, but you gotta promise not to be mad, okay?"

"Rachael, you're my best friend. We're practically sisters. I could never be mad at you."

"I want to show you something," she said standing up. I watched as she slowly stripped. I'd seen her breasts hundreds of times but until then I never realized I hadn't seen her fully naked.

She pulled her panties down and there was something strange there.

It wasn't a vagina or a cock. There was something there pulled between her legs with two small, brown quail eggs next to it.

Reaching behind her, she pulled something out of her ass hole and a fleshy nub that resembled a shrunken cock hung between her legs. There was band attached to it behind the head and it was tethered to a golf ball-sized orb.

"Rachael, what's going on? What's this all about?" I was very confused and couldn't stop staring at it.

"It's what I wanted to tell you." I looked at it for a full minute, trying to make sense of all of it. It was maybe three inches long and very thin, maybe from being pulled all the time by the orb or something.

"I've been taking hormones for over three years now. As you can see I was born a boy, but I'm really a girl on the inside."

She paused and knelt in front of me. My eyes followed the cocklet still attached to the ball and chain. "My dad is going to pay for my sex change operation when I turn 18."

This was too much. I'd known Rachael for almost a year and to me she was a girl. She looked and acted like a girl. I've seen her in bathing suits and tight shorts and never saw what

I'm seeing now. I was totally blown away by this.

She reached out and touched my hand, snapping me out of my stare. "Don't be mad at me, okay?"

"What, ur, why did you do this?"

"What can I say? I'm a full blown slut," she said laughing.

"I really want to fuck but when guys find out I've got a cock,

I'm lucky to get away without having my ass kicked. I needed a surrogate pussy."

"A what?!" I'd never heard of that before.

"A surrogate pussy. Like when a woman can't have a baby and she has someone else do it for her. It's really her baby but it's in someone else's belly. That's how it is for you and me. It's your pussy but I'm the one doing all the fucking 'cause

I'm such a slut!"

In an odd sort of way that kind of made sense. Maybe it was her months of manipulations or the fact I had taken E, did two lines of coke at the party and drank several beers, but what she said made perfect sense. I wasn't the slut, she was.

She was only using my pussy because she didn't have one.

We talked more about her life. She now felt more comfortable talking to me about her "secret" and how hard it was being horny all the time and not able to come. The hormones she's taking made her penis useless. She couldn't get hard and couldn't come and having tons of teenage hormones coursing around her body made her permanently insatiable.

I felt sorry for her and we hugged and kissed and for the first time ever, we ate each other at the same time. No matter what I did, the cocklet never got hard and was like a wet noodle the entire time. We fell asleep holding each other. Her father woke us up around noon and we said our good byes.

I swore off sex. I was pregnant again and just like the first time, I had no idea who the father was. Now that my motivator was gone, I didn't have the urge to fuck anymore. I didn't answer the phone or the door when guys came over. School became my safe haven from the relentless onslaught of guys wanting sex.

I wore longer dresses, pulled my hair up in a bun and no longer wore makeup. I shut myself inside my house whenever I wasn't in school for fear of guys coming for me. I tried to say no whenever they caught me, but I was too weak and with a little persistence, I always gave in.

Even going to check the mail box became a major production as guys in the neighborhood would flock around me as soon as I stepped outside. I always gave in, no matter how loud my gut was screaming to run away. It never was just one either. As soon as word got out they were queued up at my door like the homeless in line at the soup kitchen.

I avoided going out at all after the second time it happened.

As soon as school let out, I rushed home the back way to avoid seeing anyone. My mother seemed totally oblivious to everything in my life and never commented about my sudden lifestyle change. In late March, she did notice my bulging stomach.

We had a heart to heart talk. She wanted to know the boy's name who impregnated me. I made up a name and said he lived in another town and we met at a party back in November.

She bought the story and made an appointment for me at the clinic.

"Are you back again?" the nurse asked when my name was called. I froze and my mother stared at me. "Didn't you read ANY of the pamphlets we gave you last time?" I wanted to crawl inside a hole and die. I couldn't look at my mom and watched as the nurse flipped through my file.

"I see the doctor gave you a prescription for birth control pills back in October. Are you still taking them?" she asked looking at me. I knew I was dead. Slowly I shook my head no. I was embarrassed to get them filled and afraid of what would happen if my mother found them.

They took us into a room just like the one last time and took some blood and had me sit there and wait for the doctor.

As soon as the door closed mother was in my face. "What's going on, Debra?" She never called me that unless she's really pissed. I guess this would count as one of those times.

I didn't know what to say and stared at the floor while she yelled at me. She sat tapping her foot as the doctor did the exam. She was quiet on the ride home but as soon as the front door was closed, she flayed into me. I never felt so stupid my whole life.

She was hoarse by the time she sent me to my room with the knowledge that I was grounded for a month. A lot of good that would do as she's never home to enforce it. I really needed a smoke and sat on my window ledge.

They didn't do the abortion and we had to reschedule it for the next week. My mother literally dragged me by my arm to the clinic that following Wednesday. She was still angry at me and just kept reminding me that I was "only 13-years- old and far too young to even be thinking about sex, let alone having it." If she only knew.

I almost passed out when they began talking about STDs to us. The doctor informed my mother that last time I was there

I was treated for syphilis and gonorrhea and would have to be retreated for that because I had contracted them again. In addition to that, I also had Chlamydia, and Hepatitis B.

To say the least my mother was horrified. They did the abortion, gave me a treatment and instructed me to return for further treatments. Again I had to fill out the form listing my past partners and I stared at the paper for a long time with my mother breathing down my neck.

"Fill it in," she ordered glaring down at me.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not sure who most are."

"What do you mean 'most'?"

"I never really knew alotta the guys."

"Just how many guys are we talking about?" I looked at the floor and shrugged my shoulder. "I asked you a question young lady."

"I'm not sure," I said not lifting my eyes. I suddenly felt very ashamed.

"Is it like 20 or 25 different boys?" I shook my head. "MORE?!"

I nodded. "50?" I shrugged my shoulders. "MORE?" I nodded.

"Oh, my God, Debra Ann Breaux, what's gotten into you? You've had sex with over 50 different boys?! I thought I taught you better than that. Do you know what that will do to you reputation around here? You'll never live that down..." I tuned her out as she began her lecture on life in a small town.

I sat quietly as she berated me and came right out and called me a whore without saying the words. I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth on how many guys I'd actually had sex with.

It was best that she think it was "only about 50 guys" even though at my peak, I was going through more than that every week.

Even on the drive home she talked at me about everything I was doing wrong. As soon as we got home I ran to my room and closed the door. I knew I fucked up and I didn't need her yelling at me. I hadn't had sex in almost a month and it's been over six weeks since my last joint and I really could use one. I opened my window and lit a Kool cigarette.

I was angry. Angry at myself but more angry at Rachael. Pulling my clothes off I stared between my legs at the source of my problems. "Why are you such a whore?!" I yelled down. Balling up my fist, I punched my pussy as hard as I could.

"There, Rachael, I hope you felt that!" I said falling back reeling in the pain I had just inflected. After a few minutes the stinging diminished and I sat back up.

Grabbing the outer lips, I pulled on them, stretching them as far as I could stand. "I hate you, Rachael," I screamed down at the opened hole. "You are a worthless piece of shit, you know that?" It didn't really make sense to do that, but it felt good to get it out. Rachael wanted me to be her surrogate and somehow I saw my pussy as belonging to Rachael and by unleashing my anger on "her", I felt better.

I pulled out my diary and began writing what had happened.

My mom bought it for me as a present Christmas before last.

The first six months was pretty boring but then I met Rachael and all hell broke loose. I turned to the page where I first wrote about her. It was May 16th. On June 20th I wrote about my first blow job.

The next entry was very long as I tried to explain how, and why, I lost my virginity in the back of a van to five guys

I didn't know. From then on sex entries filled every page.

There were gaps sometimes as I forgot to write about things for a day or two but almost everyday had an entry.

I was curious about how many guys I'd actually fucked. It never bothered me before but after all this shit that happened at the clinic, I wanted to know. There was no way to get a true number as most parties it was like an assembly line of guys coming and going and often the room was full of people.

I'd remember seeing familiar faces and knew several had fucked me before. Often times I never saw their faces as someone was blocking my view. Keeping count was a problem especially after a few drinks and most of the time I just didn't try.

Sometimes I forgot what number I was on.

Rachael was pretty good at keeping count and often told me all about it the next day. Taking out a notebook, I started making hash marks for every time I had sex. By the time I reached my first Christmas party my hands were shaking and

I felt sick to my stomach.

One side of the page was full of lines and I had turned it over just before my Thanksgiving entries. By mid January I was already half way down my second page. I didn't want to know any more. Closing my diary I leaned my head back and tried to make sense of it all.

Before I met Rachael I was a straight A student. I would get

"Citizen of the Month" awards often, was always considered the teacher's pet, was vice president two years ago for my class and never, ever once got into trouble.

I felt dirty and took a shower before going to bed. That night was restless for me as dreams fill my sleep. It was dark but

I could hear people all around me, feel them next to me. Hands were touching me but I couldn't move away. My head was in a fog and when I tried walking I would step in slippery puddles.

As my eyes focused I could see men. Lots of men everywhere but

I couldn't see their faces, only their naked bodies and they all had large, erect penises. I cried out and sat up as the first huge penis penetrated me.

I was alone in my room, my heart racing, sweat dripping from my face. It felt as if someone was standing on my chest as catching my breath was difficult. I went for some water and sat watching

TV until I fell asleep again around 4 AM.

I began calling my pussy Rachael and spoke to her as if the real

Rachael was still here. A week later I got a clean bill of health after several shots and pills. My mother still wouldn't allow me out of the house and I really didn't want to go. The

"old" Debbie was gone. One good thing was that she had the doctor put something inside my arm to keep me from getting pregnant.

It's supposed to last five years and I would be over 18 by then.

That Saturday I was feeling very bored when the door bell rang.

It was another one of the guys I used to fuck and he was pretty persistent with the ringing. I hid in my room. The phone rang about 100 times over the two hours since mom left for work.

I had to get out of the house. I'd been cooped up in here for what seemed like weeks and was going crazy. I rode my bike a while, not really going any place, just going some place. A few horns blow, several guys shouted, and many wolf whistles reminded me of who I was before. I silently cursed Rachael.