Chapter 4

How can I explain my relationship with Bill? He was a child, a stranger, plucked from nowhere and brought into my life with such subtle force that for a period of a week, my every waking thought was of him.

For many days after my brutal assault on the black boy in the waterfront district, I was afflicted with a state of mind which can only be described as extreme lethargy. It seemed as if that one sexual encounter had drained every muscle and sinew in my body of all its strength.

It was, I suppose, a time for recharging my mind and body and slowly becoming accustomed to the bizarre fact that I was a woman outside the morality of society. I was a woman who would gladly and quickly give up every moral trait for the cock of one young boy. It was not an easy thing to accept but I had no-choice. In the office, I would watch closely the behavior of the other executives, wondering if they knew, wondering if they had any idea that the most successful young woman in their organization had blossomed into a sexual pervert which would make their blood run cold.

But, with Bill, I totally removed myself from the puritanical strictures of the society in which I lived and worked. For with him, I not only seduced his body in the most perverse manner, but I took away his rural innocence. Yes, I captured a boy who had been brought up in the forests and valleys of an almost untouched New England countryside and within a week turned him into a love machine.

It began with a phone call late one Sunday. The caller was a woman, an old friend of mine whom I had not seen for many years.

After a few minutes of small talk she explained the nature of her call: "I have a young cousin coming into the city from New Hampshire for a week or two. He's a regular country boy, shy and nice, and when I tried to think of someone who could show him the sights, I automatically thought of you. Look, I realize it's an imposition and if you can't help me out, I understand."

I told her that I would be delighted to show him around. At the time I accepted, there was no thought in my mind of an attempted seduction. It was merely a favor for an old friend. The boy and I were to meet the following Tuesday morning in the front of a well-known landmark in New York.

Arriving about ten minutes late, I noticed a tall, graceful boy walking nervously about, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. He appeared to be about sixteen.

For some reason I did not approach him right away. Instead, I moved under the awning of a store and watched him. It was possible to spot him as a rural boy immediately. His clothes were simple and terribly out of fashion. But it was more than his clothes; it was a lack of pretension, a lack of sophistication. He was pacing back and forth because he was scared he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He felt no need to hide his fear. My heart seemed to open to the boy.

And then my eyes moved to his body. As he walked I watched his thighs strain against the fabric. The boy was well-built, his hair was soft and brown, and his arms looked like they knew heavy work.

It was at that moment, standing a distance from him, that the madness came over me. I felt as if my body had turned into a sponge and was evaporating. I felt that the only thing which would halt that process was the naked organs of his body; his mouth, his cock, the very structure of his body.

A shame came over me. But nothing, not even the knowledge of my own wickedness could stop that craving which hit me with such force that I could hardly breathe.

I fought to gain control of myself and then I approached him. Smiling my best executive smile, and holding out my hand in greeting, I introduced myself. He smiled back and shook my hand heartily, saying: "I was getting pretty worried. I'm glad you showed up Ma'am."

I made some small talk with him, but my eyes were riveted on his lips. Never had I seen such lips, they looked like they had spent their youth in savoring the fresh sap of apples, or drinking deeply of maple syrup which had just been extracted from the tree buckets. They were full lips and they were the only part of him that were more adult than his years. He did not know it then, but his lips were the lips of an Emperor; one of the Roman variety during the last stages of the Empire when all the great resources of the Imperial treasury were used to extract every perverted delight imaginable. Yes, I knew it instantly; his lips were what I desired more than anything else. But, the boy was innocent; he must be taught. Yes, his innocence was like a cloak about him, and I resolved to remove that cloak and let his body reach a freedom he never dreamed of.

That day we spent doing all the petty things which sightseers in New York always do. We took a ferry around Manhattan Island, we went to the Museums and Chinatown, we walked' up and down Fifth Avenue and wandered into the Department Stores. He listened to everything I said with the utmost interest and politeness and his eyes shone at the hustle and bustle and color of the city.

Once, after stopping at one of those wagons which sell unsanitary but delicious frankfurters and onions, I wiped a piece of food from his mouth. It was not something I had planned, but it happened and the moment my fingers came into contact with his face, I felt burned, scarred by his flesh. If there was a stick there I would have grasped it and thrust it between my legs, into my vagina; that was how powerful his flesh was, that was the effect that this easy-going innocence was beginning to have on me.

Early in the afternoon, I devised my plan. It was necessary, I realized, to develop a maternal relationship with him otherwise my hopes would be dashed. An innocent like Bill would never be seduced by his equal, or by a flirtation. I would have to insinuate myself into his life, in the space of a few hours, as a mother-figure.

This I did by scolding him gently and humorously when he tended to cross the street without obeying traffic lights or when he ate too quickly. Slowly, that relationship was established, all the while, my flesh was burning for just the touch of him.

Night came and he thanked me profusely for my service as a guide and said he had to go. back to his hotel. I almost panicked but I thought quickly and said: "Look, I'm a little tired and I have about an hour before I go to dinner with a business associate. Could I use your hotel room to tidy up a bit and take a short nap?"

He happily granted my request. We entered the small room and Bill flung himself on the bed. He was so innocent, he was so unsuspecting that I could barely stand my wickedness. I walked into the bathroom and washed and fixed my makeup.

When I came out he was fast asleep. The day had been exhausting to him. In front of that sleeping body I undressed, still not sure of what I would do, but unable to keep the clothes on my body any longer in front of him. Completely naked I closed the light switch and sat on the side of the bed.

Taking his hand in mine, I began to sing a gentle lullaby. He seemed to smile in his sleep. I moved closer and closer, an inch at a time, until my nipple rested on his cheek. He stirred but did not wake. Then, I let my nipple, so fevered with anticipation that it felt as if someone had applied a red hot poker to its quivering shape, touch his lips.

How can I describe that first erotic contact? I wanted to dig my fingers into every part of his flesh. I wanted to force his mouth open until he had ravaged my breast like a wild beast would rip apart a piece of freshly-killed meat.

Slowly but relentlessly, I put more and more pressure against his lips. Still sleeping, they began to part and my nipple moved into the heated cavern of his innocent mouth.

Then he awoke. His eyes were wide with fear. The experience was so new to him and so different from anything else in his life, that he did not struggle. He just lay there, watching me in horror. His mouth contained my nipple but he did not yet accept the passion of its movement which lashed his mouth from side to side.

I spoke to him softly, telling him of my love, telling him of his exquisite beauty, telling him that if I was the great Greek sculptor Praxiteles, I would carve his body in marble so that the future generations would understand the passion sleeping in his body.

But the boy was still rigid with fear. Desperate, I acted quickly. I thrust both of my hands into his pants, searching hungrily for that quiet organ, searching for the center of his young manhood.

I found it. Oh yes, I found that quiet, almost sublime cock, between his legs, dumb and disinterested. My fingers were like the fingers of a surgeon as I operated on that member, bringing it by my love and caresses to a flaming, quivering weapon after only a few moments of manipulation. I searched out the globes which anchored his cock and my hands rolled over them, feeling the delicate quality of their lines, making love to the thin sac which held them suspended like some ripe grapes under the vine.

Now his face and body began to change. It was no longer his will but his cock which controlled him. He could not help the surge of lust which was beginning to inundate his body. All the fury of adolescence seemed to possess him, to sweep his frigid body into the whirlpool of passion.

His mouth opened wide now and with a savage lunge I thrust my breast deep inside his mouth until I heard him choking from the massive but soft flesh. His mouth closed. His tongue played with my nipple only as the first lust of youth is able. His eyes were glazed from my white, naked breasts. His body was no longer rigid. Then he closed his mouth and sunk his teeth into the mound. I screamed but a second later the pain joined with exquisite pleasure and I called out to him for more, for more of those animal teeth which were sucking blood rather than milk from my offering.

I could stand no more. My fingers crushed his globes and he was forced to loosen his hold.

"What are you doing to me?" He cried out, his voice like a trapped animal that does not wish to leave the trap.

"Hush, there is nothing to fear. I will bring you the most beautiful things of your life, more glorious even than the first snow which covers the stone fences, or the migration of the game birds which cover the New England sky. Hush, I will bring you your manhood."

My words calmed him. My words gave him confidence in the strange woman who had possessed him. I was so close to my goal, then, so close to the lips which were wet and frothing from the taste of my nipples.

So I lay on my back and pulled his head between my naked thighs. At first he resisted, but my hands slowly and forcefully guided the way. He could not refuse. I could see his eyes widen as he spotted the goal, that dark mysterious nest which perched so beautifully between my legs, which was calling for his lips.

I closed my eyes as I felt the breath from his mouth near me.

"Now," I called to him, "you must, you must, it is there for your lips."

A second later it happened. His lips met the gates of my cunt. My nest quivered, I felt little darts of lust shooting through my body. My hands and nails dug into his back.

"Yes," I cried to him, "it is yours, press your lips against me, harder, harder, I want you to lose yourself in me."

We were joined. The wet lips of my cunt were joined in the grip of love with those two Imperial lips. He was juicy and hot. He was beginning to suck his manhood from the opening, from the opening of my body and the opening of the world.

But I wanted more than that. I wanted the total immersion. I wanted that snake-like organ which was hiding in the roof of his mouth. I wanted his tongue to glide out of his heated mouth, through his now lusting lips and into the dark mystery which was the center of my womanhood.

I wanted his tongue to penetrate my cunt more than I had ever wanted anything in the world. There was a mystery to his mouth, tongue and lips which I will never solve but which I know is the most complete passion a woman like myself can aspire to.

"Your tongue," I called.

There was a pause. There was a strange pause. It was as if he was debating, as if he still controlled his tongue with his will rather than his passion. But the heat of my cunt overwhelmed him and the beauties which he intuited were inside. He was a boy, a child, but he was no fool.

That tongue entered. Its flaming tip, so divinely shaped moved into me with all the force the child could muster. I tensed as I received it. My buttocks rose halfway off the bed in response to the penetration. But I was tense for only a moment. The next instant, it began to move from side to side, sending my body juices boiling and my whole body dissolved in one paroxysm of lust.

His strange muffled cries filled the room as he fought to send his tongue deeper and deeper, into the very heart of my cunt, into the mystery of my womanhood, in a search for his own manhood.

My body grew more and more hysterical as the child tasted me, as he sucked the most succulent lusts a woman could offer. I began to move violently from side to side, pummeling his head with my thighs, both desiring the penetration and struggling to be free of the red-hot tongue which was like a berserk snake in my cunt.

A second later it was all over. The orgasm swept over me, suddenly and totally, sending my body into spasms of acceptance, overwhelming my quivering cunt with the body juices of passion. I lay there, unable to speak, my silence a tribute to the strength of his tongue. Finally, when I was able to speak, I thanked him. The boy just lay there. He seemed shocked by what he did. I looked between his legs. His cock was still stiff, the globes swaying beautifully like church bells. Rather than thank him further using mere words, I moved down his body and took his cock in my lips. The child's eyes opened wide, as if he could not understand what had happened to him.

But the moment my lips were circling his stiffened flesh, a gleam of comprehension came to him.

His cock danced in my mouth. Its purity, its youth, its very innocence turned my mouth into a passion tunnel, and in a few short moments, his flesh burst forth and the hot young seed of manhood poured into me. He lay there weeping, unable to understand the passion juices which had come from his body.

This was only the beginning. In the days that followed, we explored every possibility that his tongue and mouth could fulfill. These were days of extreme joy for me and days of growth for the child. When it was time for him to return home, I tried to tell him what had happened to him. I tried to explain that although I had debauched him, and taken every shred of innocence from his lips and body, still, that was the price of manhood.

And even today, a long time after that week of intense lust, I think often of Bill's tongue, as it passed through the gates of my womanhood, and like some fiery dart, brought my cunt to the ultimate in fever pitch.

In this episode we see a radical change in her desires. Previously, she had seduced children in order to gratify her own desires, but now, for the first time, we see that she is interested as much in "debauching" innocents as in her own gratification.

But this episode is important for another reason, a reason which may have a crucial clinical significance. At one part in her story, she mentions how the only way to seduce Bill was to become a "mother" image to him and she quickly does this. The psychologist, reading this, must assume that this action of becoming a mother to the young man was to fulfill her need and not to execute a seduction.

It is obvious what has happened. She revenged herself on her mother by assuming the role of her mother. The young man became the father she had never possessed sexually but always desired.

But, and this is the crucial part, when the opportunity came to seduce Bill, in her subconscious she did not have the strength of will to enter into a genital relationship with him. Instead, she uses Oral techniques. In that way, she does not incur the guilt of being entered by her own father's penis.

If the relationship would have continued, two things could have happened. Bill could have refused to play the role of her father and asserted himself, which would have meant the end of the relationship. Or, she could have accepted the fact of a genital relationship with a child whom her subconscious considered her father.

In such relationships, many complications will develop. The reader must understand one thing. The woman, in this episode, assumed the role of her own mother and projected the boy in the role of the father. But when the time came to seduce him, she could not go through with what was essentially incest. Thus, the oralism rather than genitalism. Her perversion has, therefore, taken a significant turn; it is the first breakthrough of her subconscious desires into the world.