Chapter 7
SISTER & STEPBROTHER
Historical data concerning Dorothy K., was passed from one psychiatrist to another over a period of more than five years. By the time she sought help-when she was in her late thirties-she had become a difficult and embittered person. Although her face was badly mutilated from a vicious beating, she refused to submit to plastic surgery. She seemed to accept her misfortune and wore it as a kind of "hair shirt." She had sinned and would accept her punishment.
She was beyond therapeutic assistance. If she didn't dismiss a psychiatrist on her own decision, it was the psychiatrist who rejected her. She not only refused to cooperate, but was continually abusive and hateful. She was impossible to communicate with.
The action that precipitated her psychiatric treatment resulted from her romantic breakup with
"the only person I ever loved." The fact that the person was a girl and that her step-brother nearly killed her was a secondary impetus in her plea for help. Dorothy was a successful New York model agent, and a self-confessed lesbian. Her tortuous path led from a farm in a remote area of Nebraska to a penthouse. The journey was long and trying.
Dorothy didn't recall her parents. They were killed in an automobile accident when she was three. She was reared on a farm by her step-brother's sister and mother. Dorothy had no conception of lesbianism until years later, but when the revelation finally occurred, she was convinced that her Aunt Bertha was a lesbian herself. Her Aunt's lifelong friend, Ruth, was obviously a lover as well as companion. Although the older woman surely influenced Dorothy's outward appearance in mannerisms and speech, there was never anything in her aunt's behavior to indicate perversity or sin. The chaos that finally came to the farm was cauded by Dorothy when she was an adolescent. Dorothy's account of her story was recorded and transcribed:
"Aunt Bertha and Ruth were simple people, but very kind. Perhaps they should have made me continue school, but they didn't. When I was fourteen, I dropped out. I felt at home on the farm but not in town. I was constantly the brunt of jokes and teasing. I was pretty with my ash blonde hair, and creamy complexion, but how would anyone know? I wore boy's clothes and must have swaggered like a longshoreman. I was merely emulating my guardians. Anyway-I was happy again when I could work next to my loved ones, and associate with my animal menagerie. I felt this was where I belonged, and had every intention of remaining there. But then my step brother Jim came along, and everything went wrong.
"Jim was the fifteen-year-old and he also spent the summer on the farm the year I quit school. I was glad for the company, and despite a fierce competition that developed between us, I suppose I became a little smitted with the handsome lad. At first I wanted to prove the supremacy of women over men, and managed to out work, out lift, and even outrun Jim at every opportunity, but then I discovered that he could do certain things I would never be able to do. From then on, all contests were cancelled.
"One hot afternoon following a day of digging potatoes, Jim and I went down for a swim in the river. I was rather modest at the prospect of undressing in front of him,, but this didn't spoil the opportunity I had been waiting for for more than a week. I caught a glimpse of his penis one other time, but just a glimpse. I saw the limp length of flesh flop out of his shorts as he was pulling on his pants in our bedroom. He tucked it away, but the picture was locked in my mind. Until that moment I had never seen this part of a boy's anatomy.
"So that day at the river, I was determined to get a full view of every secret he had. With this in my mind I swallowed every inhibition and yanked off my jeans and blouse. When I saw that he had stopped to stare at me I jumped into the river and swam to the other side. Soon he was naked and diving in after me. We romped around, but not for long. I waded back to shore where I could get that all-important peek. I sat down on the soft grass and watched intently as he came splashing out of the water. As he ran. his penis flopped boldly from side to side and I was fascinated.
"What are you looking at?" he asked me, striking a pose just above me. "Ain't you ever seen a pecker before?"
"I shook my head. No-that was my first time.
"He laughed and cupped his hand under his testicles. He thrust his hips forward until his sex was close to my face. I moved back a bit, and tried to laugh with him. I didn't want to discourage him.
"Go ahead," he said, thrusting toward me again. "Touch it if you want to."
"I'd better not," I said bashfully.
"Aw come on," he said, reaching for my hand. He brought it up and put it around his soft skinned organ. "Nobody's gonna know."
"I held it, tested it, and squeezed it, and even now I recall my rapid heartbeat, my dry lips, the excitement that was already churning inside. But then I was startled. As I grapsed it, the thing started to grow in my hand. What had been soft and cool now was becoming hard and hot. The red, diamond shaped head of it began to emerge from its skin. I wanted to run, but I couldn't. It was almost as though my hand were joined to him involuntarily. "My God," I cried. "It's alive."
"My hand came away finally, and he replaced my hand with his own. "Look." he said grunting, and looking at me strangely. "I'll show you something." He began to pump away at the bone hard penis with his legs slightly bent, and his hips thrust forward. I sat there dumbly. Everything about this was a mystery to me. I had seen animals busy at sex, but I didn't connect that with anything human. And this thing he was doing. This had me completely baffled. But if I was starded up until then, I was dumbfounded by the eventual outcome. With his body convulsing in a spastic lurch he gave the bone a final squeeze. A jet of milky hot liquid shot into my face. I cried out wiping the clinging substance from my cheek. Jim? He laughed like a lunatic. This was his idea of a joke.
"That was all that first time, but after dinner, I was no longer mad. Jim and I shared a bedroom, which wasn't very bright of my aunt, and that night after waiting until it was very late, he crawled into my bed. In the darkness I took advantage of my freedom. I found his wonderful organ, and tried to do what he had done before. Jim stopped me though. He whispered that I should put it in my mouth. I didn't even question the order, because his hands were squeezing my budding breasts and I was hot. I sucked the throbbing head as though it were giving me my very life. He put a finger inside my vagina, and this blinded me with passion. I was thankful when he ejaculated into my mouth. I was only a child, and a naive one at that, but I didn't falter a moment as I accepted the massive spurt of semen. I swallowed every drop that was given.
"I still hadn't experienced orgasm, and had no idea how to achieve it. But as Jim's hand felt and probed into my sex, I reacted to an occasional contact. Now, with his orgasm out of the way I could pay attention to myself. When his fingers reached that all important spot, I clutched his hand. "There!" I gasped. "Right there-keep rubbing-don't stop!"
"In moments I came, and I recall how the small bed creaked as my hungry hips churned up and down in orgasm. It was a miracle my aunt and Ruth didn't wake up, but they didn't. They didn't that night or any other. The subsequent nights were even more active, because it was only a day later that we discovered full-fledged sex. It was sometime in August when my dizzy spells began. This led to an eventual doctor's appointment, and his report was devastating. You guessed it-I was pregnant.
"Jim was due to return to Michigan to school, but Ruth cornered him and a few changes were made. Instead of going to school Jim would stay right there on the farm. He was forcibly recruited as my husband.
"It was fun at first, I won't deny it. We made the most of our marriage, but what chance did we have? Within a year Jim had learned how to drink, and along with that he learned how to dole out abuse. He hated his aunt, he hated my aunt, and he soon convinced me that he thoroughly hated me. Jim was no longer a boy. He was a man, a very ugly man.
"I withdrew from the constant wrangling myself. I let Jim curse and hit me, and was almost relieved when he turned his brutality on the older women. When he was mad at them he was almost kind to me. But the situation was becoming hopeless, and I knew it. The climax came in the week of our second year anniversary. By this time our little girl was a year-and-a-half.
Jim had been in town drinking and gambling, and he woke us up late in the night. I heard the commotion and went out to see what was happening. He wanted more money to return to his game, but Bertha and Ruth were refusing him.
"I tried to pull Jim off his aunt, but he knocked me across the room. I was sitting helplessly on the floor as he hit Bertha and then Ruth with a poker. I lunged for him again, and we fought bitterly, knocking over the table. Before we were aware of it, the kerosene lamp had ignited the hook rug. By the time we were able to react the entire room was enveloped in flames. I was helping Bertha to her feet when I remembered the baby. I tried to run into the bedroom, but it was too late. I must have panicked, I guess. I was torn in so many directions. As it turned out, I wasn't able to save anybody but myself. I have no memory of anything that happened. I only know how it turned out."
It didn't turn out well for Dorothy. She fell into catatonia. She lost everyone she loved, her aunt, Ruth, and her baby. Only Jim survived, and he had convinced the authorities that the fire was an accident.
Dorothy spent a year in a mental institution, and when she was released, she was remanded to Jim's custody. Her life at the new farm house was even worse than at the institution. She was Jim's slave. She remained docile until she was given one beating too many. In a wild reaction she used the same poker she had seem Jim use on her aunt. She struck him on the head, and thinking he was dead, calmly packed a suitcase. She took all the money she could find and hitchhiked to New York.
She roamed around New York until her money ran out, and then found a job washing dishes in a restaurant. She asked her boss for an advance against her salary and he attempted to make a pass at her. When she struck at him he called the police.
He accused her of stealing and she was ultimately jailed. This was the second man who had hurt her. Dorothy swore she would never trust another man as long as she lived.
In jail she met a prostitute who was very kind. Betty kept the other inmates away, and soon Dorothy discovered why. Betty was a lesbian. Dorothy submitted to this kind of love and was pleased with it. As dreary as it was in jail, she not only discovered a new friend, but an entirely new way of life. She went to Betty's apartment after her sentence, and when Betty was released they had a happy year of satisfactory lesbian love. Betty earned the living, Dorothy kept house.
Dorothy became very much aware of her growing restlessness, but she didn't know how to combat it. Instead of attempting to add new dimensions to her life by getting out more, she took the opposite course. She rarely left the apartment, and the longer she confined herself the more fearful of the outside world she became. It was this closed-in existence that led to her next pitfall.
"I've always been subject to fits of depression. Sometimes I'd withdraw for days at a time. And Betty was very understanding. I suppose that's why we stayed together so long. When I was in one of my moods she would simply let me alone. It would have been better if she hadn't, I suppose, because my solitude was devoted almost entirely to a single preoccupation-sex. I learned to read a lot from the time I was in that nut house. I read everything. Well, later my reading taste turned entirely to sex. I would have Betty pick up books, and I'd read doctors' journals. As long as the subject was sex, and plenty of it, I was satisfied.
"On those lonely days sometimes I would study my collection of nudes for hours at a time. I had obscene photos and nudist pictures, and both totally fascinated me. I would masturbate as I studied the pictures. As I say, I was obsessed. So it's a small wonder I took advantage of the situation one day when our paperboy started asking questions.
"Timmy had always been particularly friendly, but this day he had something on his mind. I let him in and he nervously told me what it was. He said his mother told him never to come into our apartment because Betty and I were bad women. He said he asked some of his friends about that and they explained what she meant. Timmy asked me if Betty and I were whores.
"I laughed. His directness was something. "No," I told him, "I'm not a prostitute."
"Oh," he said sadly. "I was hoping you were. I got five dollars saved. If you were a whore I was going to ask you to do it to me."
"Timmy was as good as in, but in a rush of fear, I didn't quite know how to handle it. I had dreamed of seducing young boys for years. I had this continual memory of those good times when I was fourteen. Now, with Timmy practically begging me I was really excited. "Well, maybe I could help you out," I told him "But I wouldn't charge anything. How old are you anyway?" He looked about ten. He said he was fifteen years old, and assured me he was capable of manly sexual behavior. When I expressed doubt, this mop-haired urchin dropped his newspaper bag, and right there in the living room of my apartment, unzipped his blue jeans. The moment his zipper was down, his hard penis popped out of his pants. It was white, and the veins stood out under the skin. He was really primed for action.
"I played with it for a few minutes, and then took it in my mouth. I had scarcely done this when he ejaculated, but even then he wasn't fully satisfied. He was interested in the complete sex act between a man and a woman. He used the four letter word to describe it.
"He told me he often peeked while his sister, who was sixteen years old, performed copulation with her boy friend on the living room couch. He went into the most vivid details, and said he wanted to do everything there was to do.
"He also said his sister had a fourteen year old girl friend who wanted to lose her virginity. She would let Timmy do it to her, if he wanted to, but he was too timid about it. That was where I came in. He wanted me to teach him, and I was more than willing to school him.
"Well, now I tell you-I couldn't let this setup pass me by. I convinced Timmy to bring his little girl friend to the apartment and we would see that the romance got off to a perfect start.
"The meeting was arranged for the following Saturday night, at a time I was pretty sure Betty would be out. For the next three days I was like a girl preparing for her first school prom. I couldn't wait for the delights of this Saturday night. The outcome was even better than I had imagined.
"Little Annie was a dream. She was slim and shy, and amazingly beautiful with dark hair, green eyes, and long full lashes. I couldn't believe it when I opened the door. At first I was afraid that Timmy hadn't briefed the girl. I had to take him aside to make sure.
"He reassured me. He said she was balky at first, but then she told him it was a pretty good idea. She wanted to come.
"That was all I wanted to hear. We went back to the living room and got right to the point. I asked Annie if she had ever played any sex games. She bowed her head and nodded. She said that she and Timmy's sister had done it to each other with their fingers, and once the girl had penetrated her vagina with a candle. "It hurt too much though," said Annie. "That's why I was afraid."
"Let's get our clothes off," I said pleasantly. "Then we can see what's what."
"At this time I wasn't much older than they were. I was just past nineteen, but I had covered plenty of ground. It seemed as though I was a thousand years older than those kids, but to get together with them like this seemed to whittle off some of my miles. I felt young and adventurous again.
"The little doll undressed and was careful to hang her navy pleated skirt over a chair. She did the same with her matching cardigan sweater, and was equally careful with her slip and underthings. She wore nice undergarments, telling me she had a mother who cared for her. This thought bothered me, but I didn't ask about her home life. That was the last thing I wanted to know.
"Soon all of us were naked, and Timmy seemed the most bashful. Annie entered like a shy little doll, but she was calm and expectant by the time her young body was naked and ready. She sat on the couch and crossed her slim, shapely legs, What grace that kid had! Her hair was drawn back and held with a ribbon. Her lips were full and red. She had fine round breasts tipped with tiny pink nipples. Her tummy was flat and there was a triangle of soft, curly hair over her sex. I still liked boys, and was excited by Timmy, but my lesbian traits began to taunt me. I had never played the aggressor's role in lesbian love, but I would now. I wanted to eat this sweet little girl right out of her mind.
"I didn't want to bollus things up though, so I forced myself to wait until the time was ripe. In the meantime, I attended to Timmy. He was frightened, obviously, and was in need of stimulation. I knew what to do.
"He smiled a faint grin as I fondled his sex. As I did it, I turned to Annie and asked her if she had ever kissed a boy's penis. She said she hadn't.
"I showed her how, but only long enough to sufficiently arouse Timmy. I knew what he was anxious to do, and didn't want to taunt him.
"I moved to the couch beside Annie, and asked if I could examine her. She was fully cooperative.
"She scurried her legs up on the couch, and leaned her body in Timmy's lap. She didn't protest in the least when I reached between her legs to examine her vagina. I spread the fold and took a long peek. Her candle stick masturbation must have ruptured her hymen because no memebrane was evident. She was fully capable of adult sex.
"As I told her she was ready and able, I was fighting a terrible urge to snuggle my head between her legs, but for the moment I contented myself with touching the velvet smoothness of her thighs.
"Annie was wiggling now, obviously her body was feeling the thrust of Timmy's erection. Her eyes were closed and her legs were beginning to writhe. I couldn't restrain myself. I was going down. I gave the excuse that I knew how to make her more receptive to Timmy's offering. I guess they believed me. At least they didn't complain.
"I kissed along her inner thighs and taunted the deepest creases of her sex. I heard her whimper, but I didn't look up. She wasn't stopping me, and that was all that mattered. By the time my tongue touched her clitoris, Annie was beginning to grind her hips. Her legs captured me, and she arched high off the couch. Annie loved what I was doing, and totally uninhibited in her frantic climax.
"When I heard her ecstatic sighs, I pulled away. I got up from the couch and took Timmy's hand. I told him to mount her and everything would be just fine.
"She edged lower, her eyes closed, and Timmy crouched between her thighs. He nervously lowered himself, and looked at me questioningly. I gave him a helping hand by directing him into the right place. He pressed his penis into her moist warmth. It happened gloriously for them. Their young bodies thrashed for long moments and finally burst into a full, trembling climax.
"I was afraid they would desert me then, but they didn't. The kids were born hedons if I ever saw a pair. I showed them several positions, and between the three of us, we must have shared a dozen fine orgasms. When they left around midnight, they were smiling and fullfilled. We made a date for the following week.
"Our weekly orgies lasted for a year, even after Betty found out about them. Betty walked in on us one night and was furious. She said I was crazy, that this sort of thing would put us all in jail, but I didn't care. I told her I would move out if she didn't like it. Facing this threat, she decided to make the most of a dangerous situation. She joined in our weekly games.
"Over the years the law has mystified me. Betty, for instance, was arrested again on prostitution charges, and was given a six month jail sentence. It was as if the worst thing in the world was selling your body to mature men. At the same time, a man suspected of spending too much time with juveniles would surely be investigated. If he were caught doing anything with them he would probably get the jail key thrown away. But women can often corrupt kids and get away with it.
"This first arrangement wasn't found out, of course, but there were later occasions where I could have been in big trouble if the laws were put into force. For various reasons I was let off the hook. Once, a mother caught me going down on her twelve-year-old daughter in my office. She pretended she hadn't seen a thing even though the daughter was seated on my desk in front of my chair, and my head was between her legs. This was a stage mother who knew that from then on her child would be sure to bring home bigger talent checks. That was all that mattered to her."
Dorothy came to life after the stimulating experience with pretty Annie and Timmy. She was no longer content to hide away in a quiet apartment. She emerged into society, and through a chain of surprising circumstances, found herself in the modeling profession.
It started when Dorothy became a prostitute for female clients. One of her clients was the head of a model agency. With her guidance Dorothy became a top photographic model, and five years later started an agency of her own. That was when her taste for youngsters began to blossom fully. Her office specialized in junior models, of course, and Dorothy found herself mother confessor for seventy sensual young children. The range in age was from twelve to twenty. Dorothy carried on promiscuous affairs in all age categories with both boys and girls.
Much later Dorothy related her sexual conquests to her therapists with great relish. Her zeal made them wonder if she were embellishing the facts. But it was doubtful because every account was documented with names and ages and minute details. Under therapy she was completely cooperative; too cooperative, it seemed. It was suspected that she was using them merely as sounding boards to bounce back her erotic replays for vicarious pleasure. There was no remorse indicated in her confessions.
Dorothy became very bold with her position of power, and made no real mistake until she fell irrevocably in love. Her lover was a seventeen year-old girl who adored Dorothy, and who followed her around "like a sad puppy." Dorothy taught the girl lesbian sex, and didn't intend to disrupt her physical virginity. In her possessiveness, she was afraid heterosexual experience might take the girl away from her. Ultimately this is exactly what happened. The girl was seduced by a photographer, and fell in love with him.
Dorothy had the nerve to take the matter to the police. She charged that the thirty-year-old man was committing statutory rape. The charge resulted in counter charges, and the only result was a smear of Dorothy's own reputation.
In festering anger, Dorothy called on the photographer with intentions of servering his penis. She attacked him viciously, but turned out once more the loser. He beat her into unconsciousness, and cut her with the knife she had used to attack him.
The photographer wound up in jail, and Dorothy started to review her lifelong series of misdeeds. That was when she sought psychiatric aid. The parade began.
Her therapy had little effect, but it might have led to a solution of her own. She renewed her friendship with the aging jail friend, Betty, and the two of them retreated to Nebraska to put Dorothy's farm back to work. (Her former husband had not been killed by the poker, but died in the Korean war. The farm ownership had reverted to Dorothy.) The strange couple was still on the farm at last contact. They shut out the outside world, and seemed to find some sort of solace in their obscurity. If Dorothy's taste for youth stayed with her in retirement, the incidents were not recorded.