Chapter 2
(Name: Rhoda L. Age: Thirty-two. Place of Residence: Baltimore, Md. Occupation: Department Store Packer.)
I often get a laugh when I read about the fancy ladies who complain about life; how it's so tough for them; how they can't find the right man or the right dress. I'd like to put them all where I am, in the basement of a department store, wrapping stinken packages until my fingers are bleeding.
Maybe I shouldn't complain. After all, I have my own strange kicks and I wouldn't trade them for all the money in the world.
What I mean is I wouldn't trade Jesse. He works in the packing department also only he works part-time because he goes to school in the morning. Me and Jesse are really close friends but it wasn't always like that.
I remember the first day I saw him. It was the summer time and they didn't have air conditioning then-only big fans that just circulated the hot air. I was working on some special shipments and the sweat was just dripping down my body.
Suddenly, this kid comes into the little alleyway where we work and he's holding a large toy-I think it was one of those teddy bears.
"Can you do me a favor?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"Wrap this for me ... I was just hired and I don't know how to do it."
"Wrap it yourself," I said nastily.
Toys were the most difficult objects to wrap and they had crooked and sharp sides that ripped through the normal wrapping paper. And also-I didn't want some snot-nosed kid running for my help every time he didn't know what to do.
"Please," he whined.
I turned away from him and I could hear him shuffling away. There was a thousand things for me to do and I just went about my work.
An hour later he was back again, standing like a wounded animal, holding another toy.
"They'll fire me and I need this job."
I wanted to call him a stupid kid and say that we all needed the job. Why did he think I was working there? Because I liked the work?
"Look, I got my own work to do."
"Then just show me."
I ripped the toy out of his hand and put it on the table in front of me. "Watch carefully."
He stood there as I expertly wrapped the paper from the roll and slipped it over the object. Using my scissors, I trimmed the sides and then finished it off with a ribbon.
"The trick is never to get excited. Just take it slow and easy."
He nodded, took the package and went out. I went back to the massive pile of objects I had to wrap. About an hour later I went on my coffee break and I saw him standing off to one side, looking terribly lonely.
I was about to go over to him because he looked like a puppy who was caught doing something naughty on the floor-but then I caught myself because I had enough trouble without a kid hanging around.
It was too late. He saw me and his face lit up like a Xmas tree. He walked over.
"Have you been in this store for long?"
"Five years," I said.
"Wow!" was the only reply he could make. We both went back to work. About an hour later he was in the booth again, holding his finger. "I cut it," he said.
He placed his hand on the table in front of me and I could see the deep gash and the thick spurt of blood which oozed onto the wood of the table.
"It hurts, it hurts terribly."
I picked up the hand and for that one instant, I felt a terrible chill in my body. I felt as if I was holding a cock-a thin, young cock that had been gravely wounded. I broke out into a terrible sweat and then I caught hold of myself, dropping the hand like it was a burning ember.
"Go to the nurse," I hissed, "why are you bothering me with it?"
He walked away and I leaned against the wall, trying to steady myself.
"Leave me alone," I whispered.
The weekend came and I tried to forget him, but the image of that little kid kept coming back. Everywhere I went, I could see his little finger-the blood dripping out.
Monday came and I vowed to keep away from him, to stop quickly and once and for all this nonsense. He came in late in the afternoon, still carrying his school books. He passed my spot and poked his head in. I turned away and didn't answer his greetings.
Two hours later he was back again, standing beside me and holding a pot that had to be wrapped in his hand.
"Would you leave me alone? Would you stop bothering me?" I half-screamed at him.
He was trembling at my fury and he was unable to move. I had really frightened him.
Suddenly, without warning, without even thinking, I felt my hands move over next to him-resting on his shoulder-then they moved down his body until they rested between his legs, resting on the fabric over his crotch. The sweat beads stood out on my forehead. I knew what I was doing but I didn't have any vital control over my hands.
I kept my hand there-slowly beginning to stroke his thighs-feeling the movement of the small shaft beneath the pants. I wanted to scream out-to ask him to run-but the power in my finger tips was beginning to grow.
"Jesse," I whispered and he turned toward the sound of the voice. Was it my own voice? I don't know-it came from me-but it was from somewhere deep inside. It was the voice of my subconscious.
I heard the sound of his zipper as it opened and the grating noise made me shiver. It was open-completely open. I thrust my hand inside until I felt the hot glory of his cock and the cool form of his globes. He leaned forward, every muscle in his body straining.
"Don't move, Jesse," I begged.
The boy just stood there. I let the cock move between my fingers. It was beginning to grow. I felt that it was mine, that every inch of it belonged to me. I moved in front of him, and looking around swiftly to see that no one was looking, I bent down and kissed the tip. He moaned and moved forward. He was hard-hard as a man-the muscles and the blood rushing forward. I licked the trembling cock and then in one gasp opened my mouth and let it plunge deep.
When my lips slipped off, the trembling cock was coated with my saliva.
My eyes moved all around the store. It had been so long since I felt cock-since I discovered that joy of seeing the male shaft-standing straight up-trembling to penetrate. My body felt like a suction cup. I was expanding and contracting. I had to have solitude. I had to have the boy alone for a minute. He was also wild-eyed, not knowing what to do with his own maleness which hung out like a weapon.
The locker room-yes, the locker room-that smelly collection of shopping bags and make-up-where the employees change and leave whatever valuables they have.
"Follow me," I whispered.
We walked quickly into the room. It was empty. There was a musty smell there. I flicked off the light and we were plunged in darkness.
"Don't talk. Don't talk, Jesse," I pleaded.
The child just stood there. I let my hands go to his globes and played with them and fondled them until he began to moan. I opened my blouse and let him suck on the nipples until they were standing straight up and digging into his mouth.
I heard a sound outside the door. Was it an employee coming back to get something? I cursed under my breath and taking him by the hand pulled him back into the room-all the way back to the far wall. It had to be fast. I couldn't think-my mind kept reeling and every time I wanted to run I reached out and touched his smooth silky cock.
I had to be penetrated. My body was burning. I had a hole in my body; a burning hole that only one thing could fill. Something had to give. I pulled him to the corner and with one hand ripped my clothes from my body, pulling at my panties until they were shredded silk on the floor. I pulled Jesse's face down until it was smashed into my crotch and I could hear him gurgle as his teeth found the cunt lips.
It had to happen fast. I was trembling all over. I pushed him away and he stood up, the juices from my crotch still on his lips.
I pushed my both hands against the wall and showed him my ass. I don't know why I chose that; I don't know why I didn't lay down on the floor and spread my legs and let him drive that young cock into my nest.
But no-I waved my ass in front of him-and he could see the whiteness. I leaned over and holding my buttocks, spread them until he could see the dark core winking at him.
"Now, Jesse, now," I whispered, my arms aching as they kept the cheeks spread. He was frightened. He was scared to death. I cursed myself for having gotten involved, for having suddenly fallen for a kid's cock.
"Now, now, now," I kept muttering. I could feel the tip against my ass and then he pushed a little harder. Outside, I heard more noises. God, I thought, if they catch us, we're through. "Hurry."
It was cutting through. It was passing the anal gates. I could feel it slide through the buttocks, cutting through the flesh. I let go of my cheeks and pressed my hands against the wall, straining to feel every inch. Oh how I wanted it-oh, how I needed that penetration.
He was all the way inside. He was whimpering and crying because he didn't like being in there but he didn't know what to do. I pressed back against the penetrating cock and he moaned. It was all the way in. It was in the hot core of my anus.
"Pump, pump," I whispered.
He stood still. I wriggled my body more. He made a tentative move and then thrust with all of his might and I was nailed against the wall, his cock driving into the core, twisting and turning as if he had done it all his life.
It was all meat. The child was a man. I felt flashes of fire and ice. I felt the cock grow big. I felt my ass expand and then open all the way as if it was a tunnel waiting only for the magic word of entry.
My face was against the wall and I urged it on. I moaned and whimpered as he chewed my ass up, as "he dug it all the way and kept thrusting and driving. Then the kid screamed and a second later I felt his seed pour into my ass and he backed up against the wall, breathing heavily and staring down at his dripping cock.
"We have to get out of here," I whispered. I picked up my panties and slipped them on even though they were ripped.
"Wait five minutes after I leave and them come out."
A few moments later I was back in my booth, wrapping packages as if nothing had happened. Then I heard Jesse's steps and he stopped for a moment and looked in.
It was a look I will never forget. To him I had become the wicked mother, the lady who had helped him and rescued him and then seduced him. I could tell by the way he shuffled off that his penis hurt.
For the rest of the day we avoided each other. Then next day I decided not to go in and the next day. Should I quit? What could I do? Whenever I thought of the incident in the locker room, I almost died with shame. It was the first time in my life I had ever seduced a boy and the first time in my life I ever had anal sex. What the hell was happening to me?
I called a friend of mine and was about to tell her the whole story and ask her advice when suddenly I shut up. I couldn't bear, for anyone else to hear it.
Finally, there was a choice to make. Either I could go in and keep working ... or quit and look for another job.
I went in the next day but I vowed never to do anything with Jesse again. He, too, was keeping his distance. He, too, knew that we had done wrong.
But it wasn't the end because the disease started to come back. I would see him walking in the hall and my whole body would become hot and bothered. I would see him bending over the water fountain and the minute his tongue nicked out and I could see the pink shape I would catch my breath.
Once, just before closing time, I stood off to one side and watched him pack some housewares. He was working fast and he had learned all the ropes. His fingers were nimble and slid over the packages.
Suddenly, I had to be relieved. There was no one around. I moved deeper into the darkness and with my eyes glued on his movements slipped my hands down my crotch until I could feel the sweat growing and increasing along the insides of my thighs. I moaned as my fingers moved up and manipulated the clitoris, edging forward-always forward to the rhythm of his fingers on the paper and twine.
He stopped and rested but I could no longer rest. I spread the cunt lips apart with one hand and slipped an erect finger into the warm, moist maw. I slid it all the way up and my body shivered with the penetration. He started to work again-moving quickly, almost unconsciously. I was spearing the pools of juices which adhered to the cunt walls. In and out-deeper and deeper-I was my own savior.
What did I want? What was I doing? Was there any end to this madness? The finger was the answer, crooked and wise it slithered all the way up until it rested at the entrance to the womb-until it drove me almost insane with lust and I began to pump as if a cock was in me.
I leaned against the pole and a second later the explosion came and the juices covered my finger as it slid out of my own body.
I ran home that night and cried myself to sleep. Who was that demonic little devil? Who had sent him? Who had asked him to interfere in my life?
There was only one thing to do and I did it. I found a man. I walked into a sleazy bar and I picked up the first man who paid me the slightest attention. He was about fifty and he kept looking at me as we walked to his apartment. He was almost slavering at the mouth. We undressed and when I saw his old body, I remembered the firmness of Jesse and I almost started crying. He lay down on the bed, waiting for me. There was no place else to go. I dropped down beside him and felt his hand cup my breast and then play with my nipple. He spread my legs and started kissing my crotch until it was moist. I closed my eyes and lifted my ass off the bed to give him what he wanted.
The teeth were in my cunt like it was a ripe fig, chewing away the juices, sucking on it until my whole body shivered. I felt the tongue go in and I kept my teeth clenched and my fingers clawed at the sheets.
He was tonguing me all the way, sending it deep into the slit and then salivating and chewing my knob which was inflamed. He twisted it until I was half-crazy with desire and then pulled it out.
I could his his face lit up like a light bulb. I could see his chest heaving. He turned me over and bit me on the ass. Then he spun me around so fast I could hardly think and I felt his cock ram in my cunt-it was big-so big I felt pain-and it screwed its way in-all the way-pinning me to the bed. His breath was sour and he cursed me as he fucked, driving it all the way and doing me real proper. I kept the vision of Jesse's face in my mind as he worked and then I felt him shoot the seed and he pulled it out at the last minute and let the goo fall all over my body.
"You didn't reach it," he whispered.
"No," I said.
"I'll take care of you," he said and started to finger me but I just pushed him away. I didn't want any more.
"What's the matter, honey?"
"Nothing."
"Let me help you out."
"I want to go." He rolled away laughing. "It's a free country."
I dressed quickly and walked out into the street. I fled from that neighborhood, running toward my house, not really knowing where I was. I had to run. I felt the dirt in me and I had to find a way to get it out.
When I was home I just sat in the kitchen and stared in the darkness.
Finally I walked into my bedroom and lay down but it was useless to try to sleep. The sheets seemed to burn my ass, to twist up into the anus and remind me of that young cock plunging in. I tossed and turned and finally took a few pills.
The next day I went to work feeling like a bull dozer had run over me. When Jesse walked in, I refused to speak to him. This was the day I had to choose. I had to make the decision.
"Do you want me to quit?"
I whirled at the sound of his voice. He was standing there, nervously shifting his weight from side to side. I wanted to fasten my eyes between his legs, to suck the cock out with my eyeballs.
"I don't care what you do!" I replied.
He came closer and placed both hands on the table in front of me. I could see the childish lines in his fingers, still virgin from years of hard work-still innocent of the wrinkles and lines and pains that afflicted my hands.
"I'll go if you tell me. I'll quite. I'll do anything you tell me. I know you think I'm a stupid kid but I love you. Please don't laugh at me. Please don't."
I wasn't laughing. I wasn't doing anything but trembling. Before I could think, I had pressed my body against his arm.
"I don't know, Jesse-I don't know what to say or how to say it."
"O.K., I'm a kid. I'm fifteen. I don't know anything but you can teach me."
He was blushing and I took his hand and slipped it under my skirt. He started to get frightened but I slowly guided it into the warm crotch and he moaned as his fingers slid the cunt lips apart and began to make small circles in the nest. His fingers were desperate; they were pulling me apart. They were forcing entry, pushing me back.
"Not now, not now-later-during the coffee break-meet me in the locker room."
Jesse pulled his hands out and left. All the next hour I was tense, waiting for the moment of coffee break and yet hoping it would never come. Then the packers filed out and I moved slowly after them, slipping away to the locker room at the last instant. It was dark and I sat down on a bench. My body was wet with sweat and I was shaking. "Are you there?"
It was Jesse's voice. I didn't answer. "Are you there?" he asked again. "Yes."
He waited until his eyes were accustomed to the dark and then he found me, sitting down on the bench beside me.
"I was afraid you wouldn't come," he said.
There was such a fresh smell about him, such a smell of young love and spring and all the things that I knew were lies and bullshit.
"But I'm here."
"I missed you."
"But you just saw me an hour ago," I protested, laughing.
"I missed you."
It was like talking to a petulant baby. He would say what he had to say no matter the truth of the matter. He reached out his hand and touched me on the face. I couldn't hide the need anymore. I could contain my own trembling. Slowly, I unbuttoned my blouse and his eyes grew wide as he saw the breasts tumble out.
"They're yours," I said.
He was frightened. He couldn't take them.
"They're yours."
Then I saw his hands move up, slowly, painfully, as if the touch of my breast would be fatal. He cupped one breast in his trembling fingers and I closed my eyes.
He held it like a wounded bird-gently.
"Kiss it," I moaned.
He bent forward and his hot young lips circled my straining nipple. It was beautiful-it was total.
I let the nipple go deeper and the moment his pink tongue touched the point I rammed my breast all the way into his mouth-deep in-until the white flesh was choking him and he had to suckle like a desperate babe to keep from choking.
The nipple slid out still covered with his saliva. I lay back on the bench and let his hands undress me-pulling at the unfamiliar clothes until I was naked on the wood. He stepped back and his eyes drank me in. He had his mouth open slightly as if he wanted to taste the delicacy that was waiting for him. I moved my body and he bent down and kissed my crotch, bowing his head into the jungle of moist hair and weeping there. I closed my thighs around his face until he was forced to go deeper and kiss the very center of my silken nest-the swollen clit which guarded the entrance to his paradise. His mouth became full and wet and I grabbed his hair and yanked him close until his mouth was circling my cunt lips.
I shook my ass a little and he slid the tongue in but I pushed him away. I wanted more than that. I wanted what I had before-that sudden terrible pain-that splitting apart of my whole body.
I turned over so that my stomach was pressed against the bench. He was standing beside me and I opened his pants carefully with my fingers.
The shaft leaped out. It pressed against my lips and I could feel the racing fire. I opened my mouth and let him cool it in the velvet of my throat, deeper and deeper until his cock was burning with my tongue and teeth. He slid it out-over the teeth-and he moaned from the pain and the joy.
Then I kissed his globes-holding them in my mouth and sucking on them. He moaned and began to sway back and forth. I chewed on the succulent scrotum, tasting the bittersweet sac and then let the globes out, to rest gently under the dancing cock.
"Take your pants off," I whispered.
He quickly slid out of his pants and I ran my hands along his thighs and then felt the power in his ass-the young muscular buttocks-so unlike mine.
"If you want me, take me," I whispered.
I could feel his eyes staring at my body. He placed his hands on my ass and began to knead the buttocks, spreading them and then letting them bounce back.
"Take me," I moaned.
He tried to lift me off the bench so he could ram his fingers in my cunt but all I gave him was a taste-and then my ass was in front of him again.
I felt his lips on my cheeks and then the pricks of his sharp teeth. I lifted myself up and pressed my ass in his face. He choked from the mass of white matter.
"Take me," I said again, this time my tone a desperate whine. It had to be soon. I moved on the bench so the wood splinters ate into my crotch.
He was straddling me and his young cock was just grazing my buns. I wriggled more so he could see the opening, so he could see my need. He squatted down lower and his hands slid under my front and grasped my breasts until I wanted to scream with pain. He squeezed them and released them-squeezed them and released them-fingering the nipples until they were singing with joy.
Bring it down, bring it down, I kept moaning to myself.
The burning tip was at the center of my back and gliding slowly toward the naked front. It was between my buttocks-just at the rim.
I moaned as the tip began to sink between the fleshy walls, as the buns spread and sucked the shaft down, always down toward the core.
I whimpered as he kept pushing. It was hard the first inch but each additional inch was softer-yielding more and more-opening wide for the fleshy torrent of youth-for the shaft tipped by the god of his love.
My ass was a flower, suddenly touched by the most fragrant stem. My ass was opening-spreading the wings of flesh and sucking the intruder in. As it penetrated it grew and increased in thrust. I began to twist on the wood-opening myself more, shivering as I heard his cries and soft moans as the stem of his cock pushed onward.
He was all the way in. He had opened me. He was riding his own fiery cock to the center of my bowels. Once inside the core he began to drive it home-to show me he was a man-to drive me again and again into the bench until I was a gasping hunk of flesh, until my ass was riveted to the wood and his fiery tip was taking me apart-thrust by thrust.
We were totally joined. We were joined beyond my wildest dreams. I was being splintered and I loved every minute of it. The pain and the joy were mixed in his muscle and we rode as if on a great wave-riding forward and backwards-up and down-until my core was lacerated and bleeding and I accepted the gift of his sperm as a cooling joy.
He rolled off me. I tried to get up but my back was badly wrenched. "Help me," I begged. "What can I do?"
"Help me off the bench."
His hands slid under my wet, warm armpits and I shivered again. "Help me stand."
I was up but the pain in my ass almost doubled me over. He was crying on my shoulder and asking me to forgive him.
"Get my clothes."
He picked up my clothes and tried to dress me but his hands shook too much. I kissed his fingers and began to weep-telling him to be calm-telling him that I loved him. His wet, limp cock brushed against my face and I kissed the semen from his globes.
Once dressed we walked out of the locker room, our hands entwined. It was a new dawn and there was nothing that would keep us apart-nothing that would keep the fires of passion from being stoked.
In the Winter, 1967 issue of the PSYCHOANALYTIC REVIEW, the distinguished psychoanalyst, Ruth-Jean Eisenbud discusses certain aspects of masochism in her article: MASOCHISM REVISITED. In this article, she states:
"The sexual masochist admits consciously seeking the experience of pain and being attracted to it. However, when the curtain rises on his partner, he plays the scene as if this was not the case. Whether it be hairpulling, or spanking, or vile, verbal abuse or a draft of urine that he needs for sexual delight, in the first act of the script he begs for love and kindness, he protests his submissive goodness, he tells his neediness."
It is obvious from the above that the subject, Rhoda, suffers from this syndrome. But what is the aetiology of her sexual masochism? Obviously, an unresolved conflict stemming from the anal phase of childhood. But why young boys? Here we have a very delicate problem. The Oedipal connection is readily apparent. She wants to be anally raped by her father but the guilt stemming from such subconscious desires is intolerable. Therefore, she resorts to the process known as "Tom Thumb projection." This means that the subject searches for the physical opposite of her true desires-particularly in the realm of size. Rather than admit the Oedipal need she fastens on a child.
What is the prognosis for the future? Statistics compiled at the leading mental health clinics in this country and abroad, have shown that severe cases of sexual masochism with anal overtones are almost impossible to cure unless caught extremely early.
However, the obvious ego strength of this woman and her long flirtation with the syndrome prior to actually indulging, may mean that there is a good chance for cure if caught within the next few years.
The young boys she seduces will, unfortunately, pay the price of her sickness with distorted perceptions of the true end of the erotic enterprise.
Anna Freud, the daughter of the founder of psychoanalysis and a distinguished practitioner in her own right, has speculated on the possible dangers of early exposure to non-diffuse sexual experiences. In a paper published in 1964, she went so far as to call for a rigorous program of erotic indoctrination for the sons and daughters of the middle-class.
While I cannot totally agree with such a position, and have argued against it elsewhere, I must say that cases such as the one we have just studied are eloquent justifications for such feelings.