Rape Seekers

The urge to be raped is found perhaps to a surprising extent in great numbers of young girls in their early and middle teens. At an age when girls traditionally are supposed to be dreaming of a handsome Prince Charming on a white horse, these girls apparently yearn to be taken over and virtually enslaved by crude unwashed youngmen-acid-heads and speed-freaks - who pass them around freely to friends and casual strangers for free balling.

Sex among their own circle of friends, however compulsive it might be, is not usually violent, but in any community where hippies congregate, there are always a large number of hangers-on, degenerates, half-crazed addicts, and merchants and practitioners of every kind of perversion and vice, knowing that the hippy chick is always a docile prey, and no matter how outrageous the crime committed against her, she will never ever holler cop.

The young girl joining a hippy society soon learns that she is considered fair game for every kind of exploitation and physical abuse, and that there is no one, friend or foe, able to or willing to protect her from it. No one in a hippy culture puts that much value on her "virtue" and she soon comes to believe after weeks and months of incessant drugging and fucking that her body is a pretty trashy commodity on the market.

In the 1967 heyday of the big city hippie societies such as Haight-Asbury and New York's East Village, rape was almost a daily fact of life for girls living in the crash-pads and drifting about homeless in the streets. And yet these young girls stayed with the scene and put up with all its abuses-many of them suffering numerous rapes to the point where it became a rather unremarkable aspect of their lives. It would be hard to say in many cases whether they stayed on the scene in spite of the constant outrages upon them or whether they actually welcomed the abuse. Perhaps their indifference and submissive-ness to this worst of crimes against a woman was another aspect of their rebellion against their parents and society. Fathers and mothers live forever in fear of their daughters' being molested and raped, and young girls are constantly being warned of the danger they must ever be on guard against. So perhaps the well brought-up middle class white girl, in letting herself be raped by every "impossible" type of man-junkies, winos, slum bums, Negroes- is indulging herself in just one more kind of forbidden behavior-one more way of saying-FUCK YOU, MAMA-UP YOUR ASS, DADDY!

Ursula B., a small town girl from Connecticut, had a strict Baptist upbringing and never showed any sighs of deviant impulses during her growing-up years. She had one steady boy friend all through high school, and everyone assumed that they would be married soon after graduation.

But the friends and neighbors were wrong in all kinds of ways about Ursula. She left home the day after her graduation and hasn't been back since. Now, after two years on her own, the new Ursula has nothing in common with the old. She would be considered a hippy by most people, although she herself despises the term. But since she split from home with her girl friend, Barby, Ursula has dipped into every kind of drugs and sex activity known to today's youth, and she has let herself wallow in every degradation that goes alone with those scenes.

Case 4 - Ursula B.

Ursula and Barby lit out for New York to find the action they'd been hearing so much about. In the city they moved in with a group of other young people in a crash pad-a west village loft. The group was dominated by a lanky, bald-headed Magus in a burlap toga, who had first call on all sex-partners, male and female, in the crowd. Otherwise there was considerable swapping around among the boys and girls.

Ursula's friend Barby, a spectacularly-titted specimen, was taken over by the Magus for this private and exclusive use, but Ursula had a busy time of it right from the start. Her first night in the city she was plunged into her first group sex experience, with her shivering, goose-fleshed body being sexually cunt-fucked and bung-holed by six different boys whose names she doesn't even remember. By any objective standards, she was subjected to a gang-bang that night, but she didn't think of it in those terms. In fact, over the past two years of her hippy existence, she undoubtedly has been raped between fifty and a hundred times, often in multiple assault, and yet she reported to me in our interview with a shrug of indifference that she thought she had been raped "about twice or three times at the most."

She explains it in these terms: "Rape is when somebody you never saw before- some complete stranger grabs you on the street or someplace and drags you away somewheres and beats the shit out of you and fucks you when you don't want them to. That kind of crap don't happen to me. If it's some cat that you already know and he wants to make it and you tell him fuck off but he keeps bugging you and makes you do it-that ain't rape... I guess it's all in how important the chick thinks it is in her mind that makes it rape or not. If you don't give a shit anyhow, then you wouldn't call it rape just because somebody balls you."

So her first night in the hippy pad set the pattern of "non-rape" that she's been living by ever since. This girl, one day out of high school, who had known only one boy before in her life, and slept him only twice, suddenly without any warning or preparation found herself on the receiving end of a six man prick-parade of perfect strangers. But she scoffs at any suggestion that it was a gang-rape, and she describes the event in the same matter-of-fact way in which she narrates all the rest of her depressing history.

Ursula-I wasn't all that crazy about sex, frankly. I still don't dig it for that matter, as far as big skyrocket orgasms go-at least most of the time. But the important thing is-it's not all that big a deal. Like when you're a kid, they try to tell you that the world's gonna fall down if you let some boy get in your pants. What a crock of shit.

The truth is-it don't matter who you ball or how you ball. It's a perfectly natural thing, right? If you want to do it-do it!

Isley-Yes, but that's the whole point that you don't seem to want to face up to. What if the boy wants to do it, but you don't want to? Don't you have some rights in the matter?

Ursula-Why make a federal case out of it? What's the big deal? So you do it. It's nothing, man -nothing.

Isley-Didn't it shake you at all that first night? Six boys? The first time in your life?

Ursula-(pouts) It's hard to remember anymore what I felt like then. I was so fucking glad to be away from home and with all that groovy gang, I just wanted to do whatever they did, you know? I knew there'd be a lot of balling and I'd get balled -so I was ready for it in my mind, you know? I didn't let it bug me at all. I found out that night that fucking don't mean a thing to me anyhow. It's just something you do naturally, like eating and shitting. What would you expect me to do-make a big square scene? Holler rape? Shit! The guys were getting their kicks out of it. So I was happy. It didn't cost me nothing, did it?

Isley-Was this a regular thing after that-having sex with half-a-dozen boys at a time?

Ursula-No, because I didn't stay there. The next day Browny-one of the kids- told me he was gonna split and I should come with him. He had a pad of his own and he'd been looking for a chick.

So I moved in this little room with Browny. It was weird! No furniture. Just a box to sit on and cloth bags on the floor for bedding. But it was groovy, having a place all our own.

Isley-What did you live on? Is this when you started hustling?

Ursula-No, that was way later. Browny peddle -dope, you know? I'd go pick up from these dealers and then he'd sell it to kids. We done pretty good at it. That's why he needed me, you know, cause I could get the shit for him from the big dealers. They'd give it to a chick for low price, or even for nothing sometimes.

Isley-Drug dealers would give you drugs for nothing?

Ursula-Yeh, cause I'd ball them, you know? See, a chick could pull off that shit, but a guy would have to pay full price and that'd be more than it was worth for the profit he'd make selling it again, and with all the risks of it. But lots of times if I balled one of these dealing cats, then he'd give me whatever kind of stuff he had just for that, you know?

Sometimes it's rough on you when it's some freaky cat that wants to beat up on you too or stuff lit cigarettes up your ass, but it's the only way you can work it and make out.

Isley-You exchanged sex for drugs then. What kind of people were the dealers?

Ursula-Kids-older guys-all kinds. Spades, alot of them. We dealt with a lot of different ones always.

Whoever had the stuff that day - you'd get the word.

Isley - Tell me how it worked - your part of the operation-swapping sex for drugs.

Ursula-Oh I forgot-you want all the sexy details for your story. Okay, I'll tell you about a typical time when I was first starting out on it. This is how it happened on my first day, when I didn't really know yet what to expect.

Browny sent me out in the morning to see this cat Zeke, who was always in the Green Apple Coffee Shop. Zeke told me that Ringo was dealing that day. So then I went over to Broome Street where Ringo had a ceramics shop and I went in his back room and waited. Pretty soon he came back and said all he had was grass today-no pills-no acid-nothing. Well, we always needed grass anyhow, so I told him, gimme grass. But he said he had to have cash that week - short on bread - and he couldn't give me no credit, man.

So, shit-that was it as far as I knew. No bread- no grass. Browny didn't tell me nothing about needing bread. He just said, "See if you can pick up some stuff. Anything you can get. Check with Zeke on who got a shipment."

I had a couple of other names to try, so I said, "Okay man, I'll see you," and I started to cut out of there, but Ringo stopped me.

"Wait a second. Maybe we can work something out." He took hold of my arm and began rubbing it up and down. "You Browny's chick?" he said.

I got the idea right away and I shrugged again. "I'm nobody's chick, man. I do whatever I feel like."

He pulled me up towards him and put his hands around my ass. "How much grass you need?" he said in a voice that's dripping with shit.

"Twenty bags," I said, which was what I'd heard Browny mention.

"That could be no problem," he said. "Lemme go close up the shop and then we'll talk about a blowjob maybe. How about that?"

"What's to talk about?" I said. "Go close your fucking shop."

I pulled off my dress while he was gone, figuring he might want to go beyond the blowjob and I'd work him for the most I could get. Shit, I was thinking-if this is all it takes to get stuff from the dealers, man, then we're gonna be millionaires inside of a month.

When Zeke came back he pawed me and licked me all over my tits and belly for awhile and then he dropped his pants and laid his prick out in the air and I sucked him till he popped.

That's all it was to it-no big passion thins. He had hot nuts for my head and I gave him what he wanted. I think all that mouth shit is boring, but a lot of guys dig it. It's easy to do though, and it don't take long with most guys.

So anyhow, he got his suck-off, I got my grass and I split. End of big deal number one.

Browny was glad to get the stuff, but he needed a mess of pills too right away, he said, and he sent me out again to see this black cat names Spear that always had a supply on hand.

"Watch yourself with him though," Browny warned me. "If he gives you any crap, just take off and forget about the stuff. It ain't worth it to get yourself beat up. He's a mean son of a bitch sometimes. You catch him on the wrong fucking day and he'll slit your gut as quick as he'll look at you."

I figured he was just trying to scare me, so I didn't worry about going there too much. It was about five fucking flights up in a like factory building.

When I banged on the door, this huge spade popped his head out, and he turned out to be Spear. There was five other cats in the room, all of them black, and a white chick, completely bare-ass, who never said a word while I was there-just squatted in a corner, completely stoned.

Spear didn't even ask me what I wanted. Before I got my mouth open to speak he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. "Sit down over there with the other chick," he said. "We'll get to you in a minute."

"I need some..." I started to say.

"We know what the fuck you need," he said, and they all laughed.

I sat down beside the bare-ass girl and she just kept smiling at me with her glassy eyes. After awhile one of the spades came over and sat down with me and he pulled up my shirt and started feeling on one of my boobs. I was thinking, "Here we go again," but I didn't say nothing or make any moves.

Isley-Did you expect that these black men were probably going to rape you? Weren't you frightened at all after the warnings that Browny gave you? You make it all sound so matter-of-fact.

Ursula-No, I wasn't scared. I figure on getting fucked, but they got no reason to hurt me. The other chick don't look like she's hurt-she ain't beat up or nothing. Just stoned out of her mind. I'll tell you- most of the time when a check gets herself beat up, it's only because she wouldn't do what some guy wanted to do. As long as you don't give a shit and let a guy do his thing with you, then he got no reason to beat you up.

Anyway, after awhile Spear said, "Come over here, hey." I got up and went to him. He looked me over for a second and then he said, "You looking for something special?"

I said: "I come for Browny." That was supposed to explain everything.

"You Browny's new chick?"

I nodded. "Uh-huh."

"You got some bread on you?" he said.

"Uh-uh."

The guy who was feeling my boob before said, "She got no bread on her, man, but she sure got a lot of good meat."

Spear said, "Unwrap the meat, baby. Let's get a look at the pork and the giblets."

I didn't know what they was talking about and I just stood there looking dumb.

"You need some help with the buttons?" he said.

That gave me a clue. "You want me to strip?"

He just waved his hand at me, like move it, baby.

So I went ahead and took everything off and then they just let me stand there naked in front of them for awhile while they all stared at me up and down and talked about what nice boobs I had and I was a little too fat in the ass and if I stuck around they'd soon work that off me and how you didn't often see a natural blonde pussy-bush like mine and all shit like that. And all the time they're passing a joint around among them, but nobody ever offered me a drag on it.

Finally Spear said, "Anybody want it?"

Somebody behind me was playing feelsies with my ass. He said. "I bet you she's scared shitless of all us black mother-fuckers. What d'you bet?"

"You scared of us?" Spear asked me.

I shrugged. "No. Why should I be?"

"Cause we're gonna fuck your ass off before we let you out of here, is why," he said.

I guess they were just testing me out or something. But they wasn't scaring me none. I never screwed no black boys before then, but it was all the same to me.

"You as good a piece of ass as that last chick Browny had?" Spear asked me.

I just shrugged again.

"Let's all of us find out." He unzipped his fly and whipped out his big black prick. He flipped it up and down a couple of times in his hand, saying, "Hoo-whee-lookee here!" and then he beckoned to me. "Get down on it, baby. Blow my brains for me like Sylvia used to do. It's the dues you pay if you wanta walk out of here alive."

I knelt down in front of him and started working on his prick with my hands, sort of shaping it up and getting it started. I peeled back the skin on the head of it and then began licking and kissing it until it swelled up good and hard.

It looked like it was gonna be a big day for blow-jobs for me. At least my pussy was getting a rest so far. It was still a little sore from all the workouts Browny had been giving it, and this cat Spear had a prick twice the size of Browny's or any of the white boys I'd had in me up to then. I wasn't all that anxious to try and see how far my pussy could stretch. If all the other guys there was hung like Spear, I was hoping they'd settle for suck-offs too and I'd be just as happy. But I sure wasn't gonna say nothing. It was up to them, what they wanted.

While I was on my knees licking his weenie, a couple of the other cats started fooling around my body, playing with my nipples and pulling my tits every which way and finger-fucking my cunt from behind and stink-fingering my asshole, checking out how goosey I was, trying to make me jump.

When Spear's prick shot its load off, he grabbed hold of my ears and pulled my face in against his belly and his prick slid way to the back of my mouth and spurted out all his goo down deep in my throat. It was practically strangling me, so I got choking and spewing up, but he held me against him and kept his prick stuffed in my face until he'd emptied his nuts into me and I'd swallowed everything down.

When he let me loose finally I was so dizzy in the head I almost fell down flat, but the other guys held me up till I got my head back. Spear said, "You're a hard worker, baby, but you need a lots of practice. These cats'll help you out though. They don't charge nothing for practice time."

One of the guys had all his clothes off then, and he took hold of my shoulders and laid me down flat on my back on the floor. He sprawled out on top of me and pulled my legs apart and lifted my knees up beside his hips, and then he licked his fingers and pried open my pussy. So it began to look like I was gonna get myself fucked after all. But no big deal.

He got a good grip on one tit and then started kissing me, squashing my lips down hard and digging them with his teeth, and then he sucked my tongue right outta my mouth and pulled it into his. And down below I could feel his prick nudging up into my cunt a little bit at a time. It was pretty slow progress cause it was a real tight fit. I could tell he was stretching the shit out of me and I was hoping he wouldn't tear me the way some guys do. His prick wasn't as long as Spear's, but it was heavy and fat, with a big blunt knob on the head end of it.

He gave me quite a time, that one-chewing and reaming my mouth out, jerking at my tit like he thought he was milking a fucking goat or something, and ramming his fat bat up and down my slot real hard, with his balls wanging against my ass underneath. But he came pretty quick and then he got up off me right away. One thing about these spades, they was all quick about it.

The next guy was lots easier-just a nice easy fuck without laying a hand on me. Then I gave a couple more blowjobs to the rest of them and that finished it. It wasn't too bad at all, the way it worked out for me.

It could've been a lot worse, according to what some other kids told me later. A lot of chicks got beat up pretty bad at Spear's, and burned with cigarettes and all that kind of sick shit. Some days, I guess, he was in a real mean mood and he'd take it out on whatever white chick came along. So I happened to hit him on a good day maybe. In fact Browny was so surprised when I got home that quick with the stuff, he couldn't believe it. He thought, since I was a new chick, Spear would keep me there all day and try to get me stoned. I guess maybe if I'd gave them any shit and didn't do all the things they wanted, then they might've got pissed off and stomped me, but I didn't make no trouble for them.

Isley-Didn't you ever go back there again?

Ursula-No, the whole dope thing crapped out about a week after I started in it. Browny heard the heat was onto him and he went back home to his parents to lay low for awhile. He told me that I should split until he came back to the city and he'd see me in a month or something.

Isley-So you were on your own again?

Ursula-No, the whole dope thing crapped out about a week after I started in it. Browny heard the heat was onto him and he went back home to his parents to lay low for awhile. He told me that I should split until he came back to the city and he'd see me in a month or something.

Isley-So you were on your own again?

Ursula-Yeh, but not for too long. There's always somebody around that has a place where you can go. I went with these two brothers that I had met. They was into a weird witchcraft bag and they said they needed a chick to help them cast spells and exorcise demons and be their human altar for some of their ritual ceremonies. So that's how I got into that whacked-out scene.

They would mix up these yicky magic potions- made out of my menstrual blood and fingernail scrapings and boiled piss and everything like that- and they'd actually drink 'em.

They was always trying to put evil spells on things that they didn't dig or people that bugged them. My body would be the altar when they'd do that. They'd tie me down bare-ass over a big flat stone that they brought back from the wilds of New Jersey, and they'd burn this powder on my belly - dried dog shit and all such yick.

And before them ceremonies they'd always have to purify my body-drive out the evil spirits inside me before I could be the altar. They done that by whipping me all over with snake-skins. That wasn't too bad to take-whipping never bothered me so much-but that burning shit on my belly was murder! I still got a scar on me from that.

Then there was this other thing they done-making offerings to the earth goddess-and they done that by sticking a long red candle up in my snatch and lighting the far end. And I'd have to lay there spread-eagled out all the time that stupid candle was burning down closer and closer to my cunt until it was practically singeing the hairs off my fucking crotch before they'd douse it out by dumping a whole big bowl of piss all over my belly.

I mean, fucking and even beating up I don't mind, but this kind of shit-forget it!

Isley-Did you believe in all that witchcraft mum-bo jumbo?

Ursula-Witchcraft I believe in, but not that kind of crap they did. They didn't know nothing about it really. I betcha they made up all them rituals themselves.

I would've got out of there quicker, but I didn't have no other place at the time. Then I heard them talking about getting hold of a newborn baby from this freaked-out pregnant chick they knew, and they were gonna sacrifice the baby to the devil. Christ! I didn't want no part in that kind of shit. So that's when I split from them.

This other kid, Larry that I knew, was gonna take off for Florida right away in a car and he was looking for riders, so I went along with him and these two other guys. That was pretty groovy. You could say we balled our way to Florida. Or at least I did.

The thing was, we didn't have no bread hardly at all for gas or food or nothing, so we'd stop at gas stations out in the country where there was just one guy working there and we'd tell him that we'd swap him a piece of ass for a tank of gas. Usually they'd go for it, so I got to do a lot of screwing in gas stations all along the way.

And then we'd get groceries like that too. These little stores out on the highway - I'd ball some old bastard in his back room that hadn't had a piece of ass in twenty years, and he'd come across with all kinds of fruit, bananas, bread, sliced meat and shit like that in return for getting laid. So we ate pretty good in the car most of the time.

But once in a gas station the guy got mad as hell when I offered to ball him and he told us, "Get the fuck out of here, you goddam hippies," and then he must have called the fuzz, cause this bastard in a cop car chased us from the next town and pulled us over.

He dragged us out of the car and searched inside it for dope, and then he shook us all down-ran his hands all over me the way they do, getting his feels. All he found was one joint on Larry, but that was enough to do it for us. He was gonna bust us and we thought we was dead, man-right there. But Larry talked to him awhile, and the next thing I knew the cop told me to get in his car, and he drove me off with him about a mile down the road and turned up a dirt path.

I didn't know what the fuck was going on; but I didn't say nothing. He was whistling to himself and grinning all over the place, so I figured out before too long what must be happening. Just another swap-deal like in the gas stations. Only this time my ass was buying us out of a grass bust.

We pulled up under some trees and he opened the back door and slapped his hand down on the seat, showing me where I was supposed to spread it.

Well, I never balled a cop before, but it turned out to be not so different from any other guys. He took off his jacket and crawled in on top of me, braced himself with good firm grips on my ass and one tit, and then he socked it to me like he was doing a big heavy job of work. Once he screwed his prick in, he went at me real hot and heavy, dripping sweat all over me, slamming the shit out of my cunt-the way you'd expect from a cop, I guess. I figured it was no harm to give him a little ass action-let him think he was turning me on-cause I knew he had us by the balls. I was ready to give him the complete works if he wanted it-suck-off or anything else. But I sure wasn't making no suggestions about it to him, or he was just as apt to run me in for being a pervert or something. Down in some of them southern places, they think sucking on somebody is a federal case, from what I've heard.

But it was all over pretty quick anyhow-he wasn't too hard to please. He gave me a little talking to after he was done, the way a lot of old guys like to do. After they fuck you and have their pleasure then they start telling you that fucking ain't nice for a sweet chick like you, and you oughta get away from all them bad companions that's leading you astray.

So this cop was just like all the rest. He told me I should ditch them dirty long-hair hippy faggots I was with and go back home to my folks. I told him thanks a lot and I'd probably do that, which just tickled the shit out of him, I guess.

He drove me back to Larry and the boys, telling me all the way what a nice young girl I was and he had a daughter just the same age. I practically puked listening to his shit.

Then he told the boys to get their asses out of the county and keep right on moving if they wanted to stay alive and healthy. We all smiled and told him thanks again, and then we took off, glad to be rid of that stupid ass finally.

Isley-Did you ever get to Florida?

Ursula-I never got there yet, to tell the truth. In Carolina, I think it was, we heard about a commune that was supposed to be real groovy. Some kids told us that just came from there. It was way up in the hills away from everything, and they had all the dope you wanted and everybody lived high all the time and it was just beautiful, the way it sounded.

We didn't really have nothing to go to in Florida -it was just a place, you know? So we headed west from where we was and drove up into - I guess it was Tennessee or something like that - this real wild country, looking for the place.

It was way away from cities and everything-just fantastic. There was this big rundown old house about a hundred years old that all the kids was living in-and they had little babies and young kids and everything there. Whole families!

There was woods all around and a river for swimming. I loved it when I first seen it, man. I thought I'd like to stay there forever if I could. But Larry and the guys decided they'd head out for Florida after all, and after a couple of days they took off again and left me there. I coulda gone with 'em, but I didn't care nothing about Florida actually. It couldn't have been any groovier than that place, as far as I could see.

The only trouble for me-I found out they wouldn't let a chick stay there just on her own for more than one week. That's what everybody told me. You had to be somebody's chick, you know? Belong to one of the guys there. Or else other wise you had to get cleared with Opie. He was the cat that set up the whole commune in the first place-kind of an old guy - thirty-five maybe - and he was the absolute boss of everybody there. He made all the rules for everyone.

He lived off in a separate house by himself with his own chicks-a little one-room place-and I Went down the hill to the house to see him and find out if he'd let me stick around. I'd only seen him a couple of times and didn't hardly know him at all. He was a great big guy who looked sort of like Mister Clean- his head was all shaved bald and he had rings in both his ears.

He had eight other chicks there already living with him that were his private "wives"-all crowded in together in this one room-and he told me that if I wanted to stay in the commune I'd have to join his happy family and move in with him.

I told him - why not? Shit - it looked like real groovy living - laying around in a state of high all the time - screwing whenever you felt like it - never bothering to wear no clothes if you didn't want to. And the other chicks all looked like a real friendly bunch.

I figured this Opie cat had to be one hell of a stud if he was balling all eight of these chicks regular, but one of them, Marge, clued me in.

"He don't ball all that much. He loans us out thought to the other guys. Lets them screw the chicks in return for favors the guys do him. He uses us like money - passes us from one to the other and then we get passed back again. We should have dollar signs tattooed on our asses.

If you're worried about getting balled though, just wait till you get nailed for a game day. You'll get plenty of balling then all right - all you can handle, don't worry."

Marge didn't fill me in on any of the details, but I found out the score soon enough. It turned out it wasn't all just living in paradise for the chicks. It's true there was all the drugs you wanted - acid, or you name it - but otherwise things weren't so groovy. Opie believed in male supremacy absolutely, which is okay with me, but he was a fucking sadist about it. He had about a million rules of behavior for the chicks and he was always dealing out these fiendish punishments to anybody who fucked up in any way. And every little fuck-up he'd mark up beside your name on the wall, and whenever you got ten fuck-up marks, they'd have a "game-day" for you and do all kinds of weird things to you in front of the whole gang.

But the ordinary day-to-day punishments was bad enough, and since I was always forgetting the stupid rules, I got a first-hand taste of most of 'em real soon.

Isley - What kind of rules did he have?

Ursula - Oh, like - you're not supposed to use drugs on a day when you're taking care of the young kids - or they'd blame you if a kid got hurt when you was supposed to be watching him - and rules about washing clothes and dishes - and not taking a leak or crapping anywheres near the houses - shit like that.

A lot of it was a drag, cause you'd get high and you'd forget about everything and fuck up all kinds of ways.

Isley - How were you punished?

Ursula - The simplest thing was just to cut off your drugs - cool you right down. But that didn't work too good cause you could always bum stuff off another chick. But then if you got caught, you and her both would get worse punishments.

One thing Opie would do is tie you up to a tree-trunk all day, bare-ass, and you'd just hang there on the fucking ropes and cook in the goddam sun. No water-nothing. Worse even than that was when they'd hang you off the end of a limb by your wrists and leave you dangling. They done that to me once when I let the food burn one day on the stove. They strung me up naked like that, and for two days afterwards my arms felt like they was out of the sockets. And besides that I got a beautiful set of blisters all over the front of me from the sunburn. Yee-yow!

When he was really mad with you though, he'd hang you up by your ankles, with your head dangling about an inch from the dusty ground, and every time the wind blew you'd eat a peck of that fucking red clay they got down there in that part of the world. Yick!

I had that just for an hour one day and I passed out completely long before the time was even up.

Another punishment of his that he gave me one day - he turned me over to the small kids, to let them punish me. There was these four kids that hung around there with us all the time. I don't know who their parents were - runaway kids maybe. There was three boys about eight-ten-twelve - and a girl nine. I fucked up some way or other, and the punishment Opie laid on me was I had to be a slave to them four bratty bastards for one whole day. Do any fucking thing they ordered me to do. Don't think they didn't love that, cause they wanted to get even with me for all the times when I'd given them any shit.

It all started off nice and friendly and playful in the morning. They had me playing dodge ball with them and tag games and all that around the house, but they was just getting me set up for the big surprises later, those little pricks.

Danny, the oldest boy, said to me, "You gotta take us on a hike up the woods."

I said, "Okay, we'll go to the hilltop."

"Shut up," he said. "We'll go where we want to go. You don't tell us where."

I said, "Yes, master."

So we took off up the trail with me in my blue jeans and a shirt. Around the house you'd often go practically bare-ass -just wear panties, maybe - and the young kids hardly ever wore any clothes at all actually, but going off in the woods there was thorns and poison ivy to worry about.

We went about a mile or so before the fun started. "Where are we heading?" I asked Danny. I'd never been on this path before, and the kids knew their way around the woods better than I did.

"Stop right here," he said. "This place is good enough."

We was in a shady pine grove. "Good place for a picnic," I said. "We should've brought sandwiches."

All of a sudden right then the kids let out an Indian yell and they all jumped on me at once. And this wasn't playing - they was really rough, dragging me down to the ground and pulling my shirt half off and grabbing at my boobs.

"Come on! Cut the shit, you bastards!" I yelled at them. Slave or no slave - fuck this.

But they got me pinned and Danny was sprawled out flat across my head and chest, with my shirt pulled up over my face so I couldn't see or breathe, either one. And the other kids are pulling my fucking pants off. I was kicking like crazy, but a lot of good it did. The little fucking wildcats had me stripped bare-ass naked before I knew it - shoes - shirt- every fucking thing.

Then they let me loose and I jumped up to get after them, but they kept throwing my clothes back and forth between them and the only thing I got back was one shoe, which wasn't much use to me. And then that wise little son of a bitch Danny threw my shirt and jeans way the hell up into a tree.

"You climb up there and get them, you little motherfucker," I yelled at him.

They all just laughed. "You gotta go up and get 'em," Danny said. "Climb the tree, slave. We order you!"

Well shit - I hadn't got no choice. I was gonna have to climb that fucking tree or else get my ass torn to ribbons by brambles on the way back. But climbing trees wasn't exactly my thing and I didn't know if I could make it.

"You kids gotta gimme a boost up, goddammit," I told them.

They said they would, and a couple of them crouched down and gave me their backs to step up onto. I caught hold of the lowest limb and tried to pull myself up. Once I got onto it I'd be okay from there. "Boost me-boost me!" I yelled, kicking my legs, dangling in the air, trying to haul myself up, but my arms was too weak and my ass was too heavy.

Then them little fuckers, instead of boosting me, started poking sticks up under my ass, goosing me and jabbing at my pussy and all that smart shit. I let out a yell and dropped down to the ground again.

"You little cocksuckers - I'll fix you!" They was laughing like fools at me. I'd never get up that fucking tree unless they helped me, but they were having themselves a ball poking me with their fucking sticks and whacking at me while I lay there helpless on the ground. What can you do when they're coming at you from four sides at once. I yelled, "What are you - trying to kill me? "

That was a dumb thing for me to say. They started chanting, "Kill - kill," and really clobbering me then. I had to protect my face, and my poor boobs were catching hell. I went down flat on my face and covered up my head, but they kept up their goddam attack - half of them whacking and half of them jabbing - trying to run the fucking points of the sticks up my snatch, for God's sakes!

I really thought they was gonna kill me, but then they got tired or something all of a sudden and quit, and Danny said, "I'll climb up and get your clothes for you, Ursula, but first you gotta let us all fuck you."

That gave me a jolt. Was he kidding or not? Who could tell? These kids knew what sex was all about without any doubts. They seen us all screwing and sucking around often enough right out in the broad daylight. There was no privacy and no bashfulness in any of that crowd. Some of the chicks would screw around with these little kids too sometimes, and diddle them and stuff, but I had never got into that cradle-robbing scene. But if Danny was serious, I'd rather have their dinky weenies jabbing up into me than them goddamn long pointy sticks.

I rolled over and sat up. The kids was all in a circle, grinning down at me, and Danny was already giving his prick some hand exercise in preparation. I had to laugh. This was probably what the sly little bastards had planned for me right from the beginning. Well, what the hell - it couldn't hurt, I figured. Maybe if I gave them all an orgasm it would put them into a good mood and save me some misery the rest of the day.

I said, "You think you're men enough to screw a woman, you little peanut-pricks? Go ahead and try."

I lay back on my elbows and gave 'em a good leg-spread. "There it is, baby - wide open and winking at you, goddammit. So what the fuck are you gonna do about it? Just stand there and look at it?"

Now that it came right down to the actual prick in the hole business, I guess they was all a little nervous, and nobody was too anxious to make the first move.

"Come on, goddammit," I said to Danny. "Lay down here on me and let's go. Show them other kids how you do it."

He flopped down between my legs and scrambled up over my belly like a lizard. His little knob of a prick bumped hard against my crotch, and he pressed it against me and began wiggling and humping his hips around, like he'd seen the big boys do it.

"You gotta get it in the hole first," I told him, and started to laugh. Well, that done it. He didn't much like being laughed at. He started punching away at my ribs and tits - madder'n hell.

"Who the fuck are you laughing at?" Pow - pow.

I grabbed hold of his wrists and said, "Hold it - hold it, baby. Lemme give you a hand with it. No sense getting pissed off."

I moved his ass into a better position and arched my hips up to him, and then I helped him feed his meat up into my pussy, but it was a pretty loose fit. I clamped shut on his prick as good as I could and tried to give him a little friction, but it wasn't much use. As soon as he started rocking it, we'd come apart again.

"This ain't gonna work out, man," I told him, being real careful this time not to laugh. "I just got too big a socket for the size of your plug."

I figured it was better if I took the blame onto myself for the bum connection. The other kids all laughed themselves silly over our fucked-up try at screwing, but Danny wasn't ready to give up on it yet. He had himself a hard-on and he was bound he'd get some kind of action out of me.

He got up to his knees and pushed me back down again. "Stay down," he said. "You gotta do it with your mouth. You gotta suck everybody instead."

So that was it-back to the old blowjobbing business again for me. They made me go flat on my back and then they all took turns laying their bellies over my face and feeding me their pricks for suck-offs, and I gave them a pretty good job of dick-licking, one after the other, till they was all satisfied. At least it was restful for me, doing it flat out on the ground that way, but it got kind of hard to breathe with them smothering my face with their bellies.

Even Bee Bee the little girl got into the act. She squatted down over me and I gave her a good tongue-diddling on her little clit that she won't forget in a hurry. I just hope I didn't turn the poor kid into a raging lesbian at that early age. But I guess she was already getting plenty of straight sex tossed at her from all them boys she played with all the time.

When I'd made them all happy I said, "Okay, that's my part of the deal. Now how about getting my goddam clothes down outta that fucking tree like you promised. What am I supposed to do - walk home bare-ass?"

There I was - opening my stupid mouth again. They all started jumping up and down, yelling and slapping and pointing their fingers. "Gotta go home bare-ass! Ha ha. Bare-ass - bare-ass!"

"Come on, cut the shit," I yelled back at them. "You said you'd get them clothes down for me, you little bastards. This ain't funny."

But they thought it was the biggest fucking joke in history and there was nothing I could do. The next thing I knew they all went racing off into the woods, back towards camp, and left me standing there like a fucking jackass, naked as a fucking jaybird and all alone, five miles out in the fucking woods. I wasn't even too sure I knew which goddam path to take to get back.

I was pretty pissed-off, by God. It took me about twenty minutes to find my missing shoe where they'd thrown it into the bushes, and then I had to try to climb that motherfucking pine tree for my shirt and blue jeans.

I tried every way I could to get up it, but it wasn't no use with nobody to boost me and nothing to climb on. All I got out of it was a lot of skin scraped off and a mess of sore bumps and bruises. And in the end I had no choice except to go thrashing all the way back to camp through the goddam thorns and brambles in the bare-ass nude, and I scratched the living shit out of myself from the ass on down. It's just a lucky thing I had the shoes on my feet or I would never have made it at all.

That's just a sample for you though of the things that went on that I had to put up with in that commune. It wasn't as groovy as I thought it was gonna be at first, with all them stupid punishments laid on you all the time.

Isley - All you talk about is rules and punishments. It doesn't sound like a very loving scene, the way you describe it. And you haven't mentioned much about specific sex activity.

Ursula - Yeh, well, the thing is, most of the guys had their own chicks there with them and they didn't fuck around with Opie's girls too much unless he gave 'em a green light on it. So I never did get too much action.

Isley - Not even with Opie?

Ursula - At the time I was there Opie was mostly making it with this one Chinese chick and he hardly ever messed with me at all. I don't think he dug me too much, frankly. He told me once I had tits like a fucking cow. He liked chicks really skinny for some reason.

Isley - why did you stop there then?

Ursula - Well, like I say, they kept you in drugs pretty good. And I didn't have no place else to go, man. There was no way for me to break outta there with no friends to help me or nothing. But then finally it just got to be too much. When it came my turn for a "game day" is when I finally said fuck this.

I told you they had these game days for chicks whenever they got ten fuck-up marks against your name. It didn't take me long to get my full quota. And the worst thing was, I didn't know what the hell to expect, since I'd never seen any of the other chicks go through it yet.

On the fatal day, the first thing they done was give me a dose of acid - got me off and flying. That was part of the fun for everybody else there - for the chick in the game to be wigged out of her mind so she hardly knew what the fuck was happening to her when the shit started.

So don't expect no blow-by-blow rundown on what they done to me. I don't remember half of it. All I've got is a vague recollection of about five guys at once screwing me about ten different ways, with a whole bunch of other people crowded around us - singing and clapping their hands and pulling on my arms and legs and everything. The only other thing I remember is like running a gauntlet. Everybody standing in two lines with paddles and belts in their hands, and me running between them and getting clobbered.

It must've been about two days later when I came down out of orbit again and all I can tell you is I had bruises all over me everywhere and my cunt and ass were sore like somebody had been reaming 'em out with a barbed harpoon.

That's when I figured I'd had it once and for all with that freaky bunch. I was getting lonesome for the city anyhow, so I collected my stuff together and took off from there early one morning without saying a fucking word to anybody.

I hiked up the hill through the woods to the main highway and I bummed a ride with this salesman from Memphis that came along. He was heading north, which was all I cared about, and he said if I'd go along with him and shack up that night in a motel, then the next day he'd take me all the way to Washington D.C. So I told him sure, why the hell not?

In the motel we balled for awhile - straight fucking - but he was mostly interested in my boobs it turned out. He kept telling me, "Jesus H. Christ, you got a gorgeous pair of jugs on you, kid. What a set of knockers!" That was all he could talk about. He kept on playing with 'em and licking them all over with his tongue and chewing on my nipples the way old guys like to do. All that tit-shit is boring to me, but I let him do his thing as long as he was happy. Then he wanted to stick his prick up between my tits, and he told me to squash them together around his prick and squeeze tight on him while he jerked himself in and out like he was fucking me - fucking my tits, you know? And after awhile he popped his nuts all over my goddam chest. What a slob! The weird thing was he got a bigger charge out of screwing my tits than he did from screwing my pussy.

I didn't sleep too good for some reason after that - kept on waking up all night - and when it started to get light in the morning I got a bright idea. I decided I'd rob this creep - he had a hell of a roll of bills on him - and then I'd split from there before he woke up. It would be easy enough for me to get a ride from somebody else out on the highway - I didn't need this jerk to get me to Washington.

The only trouble was he caught me at it. He must've been watching me - just pretending to be asleep, the bastard. I was fishing through his pants and all of a sudden he came flying out of bed like a shot and pounced on me.

"Goddam thieving little bitch!" he yelled, and he started clobbering the shit out of me with his fists like he thought he was Cassius Clay or something. I never got punched like that before. And kicking too. I was lucky he didn't have no shoes on or he would've killed me.

Then he threw me out the fucking door and I was glad to get away alive. I was wishing I had a knife on me though and I would've slashed the shit out of that bastard's tires before I took off.

I went in the coffee shop ladies room and cleaned up my bloody nose and then I hit the highway again, and before long I got a lift from two kids in an old car. That was a dumb mistake though. I should've known that an old heap like theirs wouldn't be going far enough to do me much good. They was only heading for the next town, about five miles up, and then I wasted a whole half-a-day with them besides because they wouldn't let me out until they finished screwing around with me.

They drove all over the place with me for a couple of hours - just going in circles, I guess - and then each one took turns driving while the other one messed around with me in the back seat. They was like just high school kids, you know? And they acted like they hadn't balled a chick in a month, they was so horny and anxious. They kept on swapping back and forth on me and I thought they'd never get their bellyfull of it and let me loose.

Then just when I thought they was ready to call it quits finally, one of them said, "Hey, man - how about the lumber yard?"

So then they drove to this lumber yard where there didn't seem to be nobody around, and they parked the car way out in the middle of all these huge stacks of lumber and then they tried to both ball me at once - one up my cunt and the other up my ass. I could tell they hadn't ever tried it that way before and they had all kinds of trouble getting their pricks up both my holes at once, but I was goddam if I was gonna give 'em any help with it. They never did make a good enough connection in my ass to do them any good, so after awhile they gave it up and both of them screwed my pussy the straight way one more time.

Then they drove me back out to the highway and left me off. I tried to hustle some bread from them before they took off, but they was as flat as I was. I was pretty hungry by then, not having had no breakfast except a chocolate bar.

I finally got smart after that though and hooked onto a big trailer truck for my next lift - the kind that has all them interstate license plates on it. You know he's gonna be going a long ways. So this oil truck driver picked me up and he was real nice and anxious to please, so the first time I mentioned being hungry he stopped right away and bought me lunch.

I thought maybe he was queer or something though, cause all afternoon he never mentioned nothing about making it with me or ever tried to fuck around in any way, but then all of a sudden late in the day he pulled over into a rest area beside the road and just jumped me without no warning or nothing and started tearing at my shirt - grabbing for my boobs like a goddam sex maniac. That pissed me off, cause he popped a couple of my buttons and ripped the goddam pocket and why the fuck didn't he just tell me he wanted to ball instead of this wild ape-man shit? So I started fighting him, yelling, "Come on - cut the crap - what's with you, man?"

I got the door open and broke away from him and jumped out, but he was right after me and he dragged me down to the ground. It was the god-damdest thing- he just went wild all of a sudden - completely freaked-out.

Even though I was saying, "Okay, man - it's okay. Cool it- I'll let you - take it easy!" he just got all the rougher and went on yanking at my jeans, pulling them down. I tried just relaxing completely and not resisting him at all, but that didn't cool him a bit. He got my pants off and my shirt all ripped open and then he came down on top of me like a ten-ton load of bricks. He practically ripped my crotch, yanking my legs apart, and then he began thumb-fucking me real rough, twisting it around and around inside me and gouging with his goddam nail.

He kept saying, "Fucking hippy - fucking hippy," over and over again. Then wham - he stuck his cock up me and started whanging away, driving it home like a fucking jackhammer. It wasn't the roughest fuck I ever had, but it was no fun with his two-hundred pounds of beef crushing me down and a mess of sharp pointy rocks stabbing my ass underneath.

The weird thing is, though, as soon as the nut was finished pumping off, he got right off me and lifted me up to my feet, and he was all sweet and apologetic about the whole stupid thing.

"I'm awful sorry, kid - I didn't hurt you, did I? I just lost my head - I swear. I don't know what the hell came over me there. Oh God, this is awful!"

I told him it didn't matter shit to me and he might as well forget it, but how about my shirt all ripped down the front? Was I supposed to go parading around from now on with my boobs poking out or what?

He said don't worry - he'd take care of it. And damn if he didn't pull in at the next shopping center and buy me a new shirt, a couple of dresses, and gimma twenty bucks cash besides. And then when he dropped me in Philadelphia, he bought me a ticket and put me on the bus for New York City, which I thought was pretty groovy. So the whole thing didn't turn out too bad for me after all. I got back home to the city richer than when I left.

Ursula has been back in New York for about two years now. She still lives the "hippy" life, although she is hardly the simple flower-child any longer, if she ever was. She has learned to get by on her wits, any way she has to.

Her life has settled down into a simple pattern because her needs are simple. As long as she gets her daily drug-dosage, she can "function," which is all that matters to her in life. And in return for the necessary drugs, she deals out the only piece of goods that she has to trade with - her ever-available, ever-serviceable balloon-titted teeny-bopper body. She lays it out for anyone she has to - any way she has to - and that has become the pattern of her days - putting out and turning on.

And now in the twenty-four-hour-a-day high state she presently "functions" in, she swears to me with a cackling laugh that "life is a ball, man - a ball!"

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