Case History 1
AGE: Fifteen
INTERVIEW ONE
The first time Joan came to my office she was wearing a white blouse and a red skirt. Even though the outfit was not all that becoming, she still managed to shine through in it and give off an extremely beautiful appearance.
Joan has shoulder-length black hair and large brown eyes. She has high cheekbones and a wide smile. It was that smile which left an impression with me, because it seemed so young and innocent, but behind it all there was a girl who harbored fantasies.
First of all, I never thought that what I used to dream about would happen. It also happened in such a different way from my dream, but the idea behind it all, of seeing all those men watching me as someone was beating me up and fucking me, well, that part was there. In my fantasy, the thing that gets me through the beating is the fact that all the men are there and I can see their cocks.
You wouldn't believe it of a girl like me, would you.
Let me tell you just what my fantasy is, in explicit detail. And then, if you're still interested, doctor, I think I even know why I have those fantasies. In some ways it just helps me get through the guilt I feel about them, at times.
I mean, if my mother ever heard what I'm telling you, she'd freak. She would never think that her daughter, her darling Joan, could have such an imagination. I think that's one of the reasons I feel guilty. I feel like I've betrayed her in some way.
Anyway, back to my fantasy.
In my fantasy, I'm usually led down this long dark hallway. Everything's so ominous. I'm in a castle, like something out of a horror movie, and although I said I'm being led, it's more or less by some kind of a force. There's no one beside me, and I'm naked, scared, and cold.
When I'm scared, my brown nipples usually stand up erect and they're very sensitive to anything. When I'm cold, they're even more perked up and more sensitive, so you can imagine what it's like with a combination.
I'm very aroused already, just thinking about it. I'm also aroused in my fantasy, and doctor, I hope you don't get upset if I start rubbing my legs together. I mean, just talking about it makes me think about it, and that gets me hot.
I'm walking down the hall, and I can hear all these strange noises. One sounds like an owl hooting, and each time it makes a sound my pussy spasms. I feel the sensation from it running all through my body. The fear keeps me going, however, and I know what's going to happen.
The floor feels cold, but I continue to walk. I get the feeling, at times, that I'm walking on one of these exercise things, where the floor just keeps rolling under you as you walk. I am moving, I can tell by all the doorways that I'm passing. They're all large and made of wood, and so thick that I don't even think of trying to enter.
But there are voices, too. Remember I said there were sounds.
Well, some of them are voices, and they keep calling me. My name is echoing throughout my ears, and I know that I'm walking in that direction, toward the voices. For a short while, it's very frustrating because, as I said, I don't think I'm going anywhere.
I usually get very hot just thinking about it. My pussy is spasming right now and I hardly even know if I can go on. But I will. That's what I'm here for.
Eventually, and just before I get too frustrated, I see this large wooden door at the end of the hall. I start to run toward it, and even though I'm running, I don't get there any faster. I do get there however, and I can hear the voices coming from behind that door.
I hardly even think about the fact that I'm naked, and that my legs are a little damp from a slow trickle of my come. I hardly care that my nipples look so stiff and that I'm as horny as I am. I mean, I know by the way my body looks, that whoever is behind the door, can see how hot I am.
But I open it anyway, and suddenly, I'm in a new world.
It's like something out of a movie. I don't even know what period, what year, or anything. All I know is that there are these old-fashioned plush red velvet chairs and a few antique tables. There are all these noble gentlemen sitting in the chairs, and hardly any of them pay attention to me.
They're too busy with the games that they're playing. There's chess, checkers, and backgammon. The whole thing is almost like an exclusive men's club, but out of the past. All the men are wearing suits, tuxedos, and most of them are smoking cigarettes from a cigarette holder.
Then, the main man comes over to me.
I know him by no name other than that. He has short black hair and a calm face. He's dressed like the others, even wearing white gloves.
"Joan, we've been waiting for you," he says to me, and he gives me his arm and starts to lead me up to this small stage.
There's a black curtain in front of it that's closed, and as he starts to lead me behind the curtain, I take what I think will be the last look at the men. Only a few have looked my way, and they're smiling. I smile back, but nothing else is said.
I would think that there would at least be some reaction because I'm not wearing anything, and that bothers me.
You see, I want these men to find my body desirable, and eventually, I know that they're going to. But I have to wait for the curtains to open.
Meanwhile, the main man is beginning to strip off his tuxedo. He doesn't undress completely. He keeps his socks and shoes on, along with his T-shirt. I can see that he has a nice thick cock, even in it's limp state.
I contemplate whether or not I want to touch it, and when I see the look in his eyes I figure that I shouldn't. But I know I can wait.
The main man backs me up against this black piece of wood. He pushes me pretty hard and as I throw my hands up in disgust, he pushes them back. Before I know what's happening, there are these large metal clamps that come out of the board, go around my wrists, then click shut. I'm trapped there.
"Are you comfortable, Joan?" he asks me. "You know that we would be upset if you weren't comfortable."
"I am," I say. "But are you going to force me to do it?"
"I don't have to tell you the answer to that," he says to me. "You know what's about to come, so don't play smart with me."
He pinches my nipple, and since he's still wearing his white gloves, I feel the fabric, rather than his flesh. I don't mind it, but I wish that he would touch me. I wish that he would touch me and make me go down on him or fuck him, or something.
As soon as I think that, the curtain opens.
The room has changed a little. Oh, it's still the same with the large portraits on the walls and the club-like atmosphere. But the plush chairs are all facing the stage, and as I look down I see that every man in the audience has his cock in his hand.
Sure, not all of them are hard yet, but I know that I'm going to get them all hard. I know it. I have that appeal.
The main man steps back, snaps his fingers, and suddenly, he's holding a whip in his hand. He looks at the other men, and they start to cheer. He pulls his arm back and then whips me across the belly. I feel him whipping me again and again, and no matter how hard he does it or how much it stings, it still feels good.
He's not really cutting me so that I bleed, but he's doing a good job on beating me. There reaches a point when it does. start to hurt, and then his glazed eyes look deeply into mine, and he screams at me.
"Look at them, Joan. Look what you're doing for them."
I turn and look at the men in the audience. Each and every one of them now has a hard cock, and I've never seen so many hands jerking up and down in my life. And I know that they're going so fast because I'm turning them on, and that makes me feel so good. So fucking good.
So good, in fact, that I hardly even feel the whip hitting my flesh, even though the main man hasn't stopped yet. If anything, he could be whipping me faster and harder than ever, but I hardly even notice it.
"How dare you leer at them," he screams at me, and then I get scared again. "But you know, the more you leer at them, the more they're going to want you to do more for them."
"How much more can they expect?" I scream.
"I lot more. A hell of a lot more."
He turns and calls two of them up. He always calls them by name, but, for some reason, I can't remember any of the names.
The two men are dressed in a similar fashion to the main man, with the socks and shoes and T-shirts. They walk over to me, and then they reach down on the floor.
Suddenly, I feel my legs being manacled. They're putting these large manacles around my ankle, and as I try to move my hands to protest, I realize that my hands are free. I turn around to look, and the black board that I was cuffed to before has fallen back on the floor.
Now, I'm manacled with room in front of me and behind me.
"You're going to have to pay for doing that," one of the men says to me, and the thing that he's referring to as 'that' is his hard cock.
I remember him as one of the men who wasn't hard when I was first brought in and know that he's right. I did make him hard. At least when he watched me I made him hard and that excites me. It excites me so much.
You're not going to believe this, doctor, but that's all that excites me.
The fact that I made these men hard does a lot for me.
But after that, it scares me. Because I see that man with his cock, and he's walking closer and closer to me. I'm pushed forward so that my ass is up in the air and I balance myself on my hands.
The man moves his cock right to my mouth, and as I open it to gasp, he shoves his meat into me. I feel it thrust all the way down my throat and I gag for a few seconds, but he realizes it and starts to thrust at a steady pace.
He holds my head, and each time I moan, he pinches my cheeks. Then I hear the other man behind me, not the main man, but the second one who came up with the first.
"You did this to me, also," he says.
I feel him rubbing his cock against my ass-hole, and I want to scream. I've never been fucked in the ass doctor, and I don't know why I think about that. The idea of it now has just brought me out of the fantasy, and sometimes it does that. But I usually just forget about it.
Because the guy. does start to fuck my cunt. He doesn't fuck my ass. He just rubs his cock there as if he's threatening me, and just as I think he's going to ram himself in and really kill me, he changes his mind and just fucks me from behind.
My back is parallel to the floor, because of the way I'm bent over, and all that flesh is exposed because of the way my two fucking partners are holding onto me. The guy who's fucking me from behind is holding onto my hips, leaning back, and groaning hard as he fucks me. The guy who's fucking my face is bent forward a little, but he knows that he has to move back.
I hear the sound of the whip flying through the air again, and then it lashes my back.
At times, it starts to hurt. It's hard taking in two cocks and being whipped at the same time. But each time the main man sees a look of hurt on my face, he starts telling me to just look at them, look at them!
And when I turn and look at the men in the audience, I see all these hard cocks. I see a drop of come on the tip of each one, at least once, and sometimes more. For I'm constantly turning back to look at them, moving my eyes really, because my mouth is stuffed with this big cock.
It's the most incredible thing. I'm coming so hard that I can't even believe my legs are holding me up. I don't really like the fucking all that much, but I just can't stop coming. At one point, I look into the audience and I see that one man is starting to come. A few of them do, and it eases my mind.
Because I know, just as the man in my thought starts to shoot his sperm deep down, that I'm probably going to have to take on every man I made hard.
That's what happens, too. The main man keeps calling others up to replace the ones who come, and my cunt is swimming in sperm.
My mouth is a different story. I do love the taste of come and I've had so many loads halfway through the night, that I love it even more. I think that I could probably suck off all the guys once more.
And the whipping hardly bothers me. In fact, it makes things a little better because it makes me feel like I'm being punished for doing what I'm doing, at the same time that I'm doing it. I know that might sound crazy, but sometimes, when I have these sex thoughts, I feel guilty. If I'm being punished at the same time, I just don't feel as guilty. That's why I'm able to take on almost every one.
By the time I'm up to this part in my fantasy, doctor, I've usually come three or four times. That's how good it works for me.
And there are changes, believe me. It's not always the same. Sometimes the chairs that the men are sitting in are plush green velvet, and whenever the curtain opens and I'm tied up on stage, I notice that different men aren't hard.
You see, in my dream, it's the men who I arouse when I'm being whipped and moaning at the same time, it's those men who I have to satisfy first. So there is a change. Sometimes I work on some men, and not others.
Also, there are always different men there, although there are some of the regulars. My father is there, and my uncle is there sometimes. My brother shows up on occasion, and of course there's Doug and Donald.
In fact, Donald reminds me a lot of the main man. They both have that sleek black hair and the same smirk.
Right before the fantasy ends, the main man takes his turn with me. He has the biggest cock of all, and I haven't really noticed that until the others all back away. Then I see that we're the only two on stage, and the piece of meat between his legs is as thick as a bologna. It's almost the same color, too.
"I can't," I say to him, "I can't take that in. Please, don't make me take it in. You'll kill me with something like that."
"Joan, I've already beaten you enough. I've beaten you enough until you took on the others. I made you do it. I'm tired of beating you, so I'm just going to make you do it. I'll make you do it."
As he talks, he's rubbing his cock against my cunt from behind.
He grabs hold of my hips and then forces his way into me. I let out a shriek of pain but for only a second. After that, it's just all pleasure. I look back into the audience and every single man has a hard cock again.
That's usually around the time when I come out of it. I usually faint while the main man is fucking me because his cock is just so big.
When I wake up, my fingers are always in my cunt. Sometimes I have three or four, and once, I must have gotten so carried away because I almost had my entire hand up my cunt. I don't have such large hands, but they're still pretty wide.
Almost as wide as the main man's cock.
Now doctor, there are some things that I understand in my fantasy. I could explain a lot of things to you because I haven't had too many sexual experiences, but the ones that I've had make me realize why I want other things.
I mean, there are parts of my fantasy that even freak me out. For instance, I've never really seen a room like the one I'm in before.
Not in real life, and it's whole combination of rooms from different movies. It's not one particular room. Plus, when I'm first walking down that hall, it usually scares me. I don't really understand why that fear makes me come so hard that I'm dripping before I walk into the main room where all the men are sitting. I don't know why.
Even the idea about being whipped bothers me, because I've never been whipped. Well that's really a lie now. I have been whipped once.
Donald did it to me. You see, I told him all about my fantasy and he thought that we would be able to act it out in a way. Of course, there had to be some changes, but I did find myself, one afternoon, tied and being whipped in front of an audience of men with hard cocks in their hands.
INTERVIEW TWO
The second time Joan came to see me, she was wearing a tight sweater and for the first time, I could see what nice, firm breasts she had. She also wore a pair of tight jeans, and even though she looked younger than she had the first time, she also looked much more attractive.
Joan seemed quite eager to talk about having her fantasy acted out, but I suggested that before she begin that story, she should tell me about her first few sexual experiences since she said there were some similarities between them and her fantasy.
I think you're right, doctor. I should tell you about the first time. It happened in this old deserted house across the street from where I lived. I was going with this tall, skinny guy named Doug, and he was the one who suggested that we do it there.
That was because we had talked about doing it for so long, but didn't have a place. Doug was a really horny guy, and I had sucked him off many times before actually letting him fuck me. I know that I like come a great deal because of Doug's cock.
When he suggested that house, I went along with him, pretty much against my will. I thought that the place was dirty, and it scared me. Still, I told him I'd go, and he took this flashlight. We broke one of the boards over the broken window and then climbed inside.
Doug took my hand and started to lead me up this rickety staircase. I asked him why we just couldn't do it downstairs, and he said that there was probably an old bed up there that we could lie on.
Well, I was scared, and even though he had this flashlight, it didn't seem to be giving off much light. It seemed like we were walking down the hall for days, and then he finally opened the door.
There was this large bed there. It looked like it was covered with dust, but that didn't bother Doug. He took the sheet off and then lay down on the bare mattress. He pulled me over and started to kiss me, undressing me at the same time.
When I felt his mouth on my tits, I was a little scared. I thought that I heard some kind of a noise in the room and pulled back.
"It's nothing," he said to me, and then he started to kiss his way down to my pussy, pulling off my pants, too.
When Doug started to eat my cunt, I came a little. It was a lot less than I had come when he would finger me, and I think that I even felt guilty then, because I knew that I was going to lose my cherry. I was only thirteen at the time.
Doug started to strip off his pants, and then, as he kissed his way back up my body, I felt his hard cock sliding up, too. I felt him moving it to my cunt lips and rubbing it back and forth over them.
"I'm going to go in hard," he said to me.
"It might hurt for the first few seconds but I know that you can take it."
He thrust his way into me, deep. At the exact moment when he broke my hymen, I was looking down at the floor.
I had been right. There was something there, and we were being watched. There was this small black mouse on the floor, and I could see him looking at us with his eyes. They seemed to be glowing in the dark room, and I couldn't take my eyes off them.
I concentrated on those eyes during my entire first fuck. Sometimes, when I blinked and opened them again, it seemed like there was more than one set of eyes. I started to think that maybe there was this whole mouse family.
I thought that they were all watching me fuck.
Doug seemed to be fucking me pretty well, at least for himself. I heard him grunt a few times, and then his cock started to shrink. He had come inside of me and I hadn't even felt it. In fact, I'd felt very little from the whole thing.
I didn't tell him that, however. My first fantasy started a few nights after my first fuck, and that's when I started thinking that there were all these people watching me. I didn't think about the men until later. At first, it was just a group of people.
I know that I was thinking about those mice as people. I can't help it. I just watch a lot of cartoons, and when I look at mice I can't help but think that they have little brains and they know how to communicate with men and understand men. That's the way it always works in cartoons.
It's so childish to think like that.
The next few times I started to fantasize about being watched, the beatings started to work their way in. Unless I was being beaten, I wasn't enjoying the sex.
That wasn't exactly how it was happening in real life though. For Doug was fucking me pretty steadily, in a friend's apartment (and not that house, which I told him I'd never go back to), and he was a good fuck.
I would have good orgasms when he fucked me, but then, I would always shower at least three times because T didn't want to smell of sex when I came home. My mother has a nose like a blood hound.
The first time I dreamed that I was being beaten was after a fight with my mother. She had no idea that I had been fucking while I was out, but she did suspect it. The fight, however, was basically about my being out too late at night.
That look in her eyes scared me, however, and as I tried to fall asleep after the first fight, I dreamed that I was being beaten. Isn't that strange?
Well, other things gradually worked their way into the fantasy. But now, it's a pat fantasy and it usually happens the same way most of the time.
Now I have to tell you about how I acted it out. I met this guy named Donald in a group session at school. They were trying to be real cool and show us kids that they were hip, so they had this class that was almost like an encounter session.
Well, one day, people had to start talking about their fantasies, and when it got to this guy Donald, it was plain and simple.
"I like to think about tying up the girl I'm with and whipping her. No particular setting or anything like that. Occasionally I hurt her with a lash, and then again, I don't. Still, thinking about it right now makes me hard."
Everyone cracked up when he said that, and the teacher who was running the session didn't think that it was so funny. But he was glad for the laughter as a relief, so he could just go on to the next person.
After class, I walked, up to Donald and I told him that part of my fantasy involved being held captive, in some way, and being whipped at the same time. I had lied about my fantasy when I had to talk in class because I just didn't want to be that honest with them, and Donald smiled slyly as I told him the truth.
I would tell him one thing, and then I just started to tell him everything. He was pretty interested, and after school was over, he took me out for burgers. Then, he took me back to his house.
Both of his parents worked, and he was an only child. It was easy for us to go up to the bedroom and start to make it with each other. I liked Donald's body. He had some fine black hairs all over his chest and a cute little cock.
It wasn't the biggest I'd ever seen, but as I learned from him, it's not the size that counts, but how you use it.
When Donald would start to enter me, he would grind his cock around a little so that it rubbed against my clit and sent the most thrilling sensations through me. I was like putty in his hands, for once he had me going, he knew just how to make it build and build and build. I can't remember ever being with Donald and suddenly losing all my sexual feelings because of something. That used to happen with Doug.
With Donald, it would always build to a climax.
And usually, he would still be hard and it would continue to build again. I loved it, and I loved him, and that was one of the reasons why we could talk so honestly with each other, and definitely one of the reasons why I agreed to do it with him.
We started to talk about it one afternoon after we had been fucking at his house. He walked to the closet and pulled out a leather belt.
"Do you want me to whip you?" he asked me.
"No," I said.
"But you told me that was what your fantasy was. Why don't you want it?"
"My fantasy was with a whip, not a belt. There's a difference."
"Would you let me whip you if it was a whip?"
"I don't know," I said to him. "I don't even want to think about it."
"But you said that was your fantasy. Hey, sometimes when I'm fucking you I start to think about what it would be like to whip you. To hit you. Just like I told you in school. That's what I want to do."
He was playing with my cunt, fingering me, and that made his desire sound a little bit more reasonable. Anything did, when I was being fingered by Donald.
"We'll never be able to do mine, though," I said to him. "Mine has plush sets and costumes. And because I can't do all of it, I don't want to do any of it."
He pulled his hand away from my cunt and turned his back on me.
"That's ridiculous, Joan," he said. "Most people have such bizarre fantasies that nothing can be acted out, but when you have one where you can do some of the things, you might as well do what you can."
"One thing?" I asked. "If I was going to be whipped, I'd like to at least have all those men there to see."
"Do you want me to ask some friends over?"
"No," I said to him. "It's not the same. Just forget it."
He moved his mouth to mine and kissed me on the lips. He pushed me down on the bed and started to mount me. I couldn't wait to feel his cock moving into my cunt, but he just rubbed his cock head over my cunt lips, almost like he was torturing me.
"Aren't you going to enter?" I asked.
"Yes," he said. "But there's only one thing I want you to know. I'm not going to forget it. I'm just not going to."
A few days later, he suggested that we take a ride into the city. It was pretty late at night, and he decided that he wanted to go see one of those Forty-second Street sex shows. You know, where they have the couples live.
Well, I didn't know that his friend owned the place until it was too late. Donald paid for two of us, like a regular customer would, and then we walked inside.
I could see that there was this blonde guy on stage fucking a redhead. Well, I couldn't see if they were really fucking or just acting like they were because we were too far back. I had always thought that it would be illegal to actually do it on stage.
I looked around the audience, which was dimly lit. I was practically the only girl there, and as I looked down aisle after aisle, I could make out a few cocks. Of course., most of the men in the theater were a little more discreet. Some of them had their hats over their dicks, or a coat.
But it wasn't too cold out and there were some men who didn't have coats. When I looked in their laps, all I could see was dick.
My cunt started to pulsate gently when I thought about it. I rubbed my legs together, and all of a sudden, this rush of passion came over me. It was a part of my fantasy coming true, and I wanted more.
"Wouldn't it be great to be up there performing?" Donald asked me.
"I think it would be," I said. "Just thinking about turning all those men on turns me on a great deal."
"Do you want to go up there?" he asked me. "We can, you know."
"What?"
"Sure. Come on this way, Joan. Come on."
Donald led me down this long, dark corridor. It was one of the fire exits in the theater, and it was almost pitch black. I didn't know how he knew where he was going. However, I just felt something covering my eyes, and then all these hands grabbing at me. I could feel my clothes being stripped off.
"Don't hurt her," I heard Donald say.
His voice was really the only comfort to me. If I hadn't heard it I would have thought that he deserted me and I think I would have started to scream. But then, I could feel myself being pulled through this curtain, and I could hear a lot of sounds. It seemed like your usual backstage chatter, and I sensed that I was being led on stage.
However, I was completely naked, and since there was no reaction from the audience, I sensed that the curtain was still closed.
I know that they showed movies there between the live acts, and I could hear some loud moaning and groaning that seemed to be coming from everywhere. I figured that it was from the movie. We were, you see, behind the screen.
"Ten minutes," I heard someone say.
"All right, Joan," Donald's voice told me. "This is not going to hurt you. In fact, I think that you're going to have a piss of a time. Just hope that no one you know is in the audience today."
I started to laugh when he said that. Then there were five minutes left, then four, then three, two, and one.
As the curtain opened the mask was pulled off my face. My arms and legs were shackled to this huge round wheel, and as I looked out into the audience, I could see all these scummy looking men.
That was the difference between the men in my fantasy and the men who were there when I acted it out. The ones in the fantasy were so much more upper class, while the ones in the theater were scum.
But as I looked in their laps, I could see all those hard cocks, and that was all that mattered to me. My pussy started to spasm and I could feel my cunt dripping. I looked between my legs at my thick brown pussy patch. It was wet, and there was some cunt juice dripping down my leg.
I looked over at Donald. He was wearing a T-shirt and boots, and he was holding a whip in his hand. He spun the wheel around, and I felt like I was on some kind of a ride. I was getting a little sick on it.
Donald started to whip me as I spun. I could feel the whip hitting me all over my legs and belly, and he somehow managed to avoid the tits. I was pretty happy about that because my tits are very sensitive.
When the wheel stopped spinning, I was able to look out into the audience again. I saw all those men getting off on me, and that just made me tingle with pleasure. I started to moan, and Donald whipped me harder.
"You're going to suck my cock, you bitch," he said to me, and I could hear a few people applauding. They were my captive audience.
"Not on your fucking life," I said to him. I couldn't believe how much I was getting into playing this part.
"I'll force you," he said. "I'll force you and make you do it."
"Nothing you do to me can make me do it," I said.
He reached over and pulled my hands free from the shackles.
He bent me forward, then moved his swollen cock to my lips. I kept them closed because I couldn't help but think that I would be arrested.
I didn't even think that Donald was allowed to have a hard-on on stage, much less an orgasm. But he plowed his hard dick against my lips and I eventually opened my mouth and took him all the way down.
I started to squeeze his balls and I knew that it wasn't going to be long before he was coming in my mouth.
I could already taste a few drops of come seeping from his cock head, and I savored the flavor on my tongue. I couldn't wait for a full load to fill me up. I glanced at the men in the audience.
One guy in the first row started to come as soon as I looked at him, and when I winked, he smiled, continuing to jerk his cock at all times. That was the best part about it. All those hard cocks because of me!
And there as one thing about acting out the scene that was a little better than the fantasy itself. I knew that I wouldn't have to take all those men on. I knew that the only one I was going to have to bring off was Donald. They couldn't very well start herding all those bums up on stage.
I put more effort into my cocksucking because of it, and Donald started to whip my back a little bit more. I could tell from the throbbing of his cock that his orgasm was only seconds away.
I moved one hand to his ass-hole and started to finger him, and that was enough to make him shoot hard. I felt the first load of come shooting down my throat, and I pulled back as I prepared for the next one.
However, Donald did something unexpected. He pulled his cock out and shot the rest of his come all over my face. He had shot out everything before I could get him back into my mouth, and I was pretty pissed about it.
The audience started to applaud as the come started to drip down my cheeks, and then the curtain began to close.
"You were sensational," he said to me, and he pulled the shackles off my feet in time for me to take a bow with him as the curtain opened again.
I looked out over the audience, and, unlike the end of my fantasy where everyone is hard again and waiting, there were quite a lot who were limp. I'd say that it was about fifty-fifty, and I could understand why some of the men wanted to hold off.
There were a lot of acts after us, and each person has his own thing.
Well, that was as close to acting out my fantasy as I ever came, and it was pretty good. I wouldn't say that it was the best orgasm of my life because the people at the theater weren't as classy as the people in my fantasy.
Also, I didn't like the idea of having come shot on my face, rather than into my mouth, but Jason, the guy who owned the theater and who was a friend of Donald's, told me that Donald had to do it that way.
The men in the audience like to see climaxes, and since a woman's isn't always visible, they at least want to see the man to know that the woman really brought him off.
Ever since that experience, however, there have been a few changes in my fantasy. Occasionally, one of the guys does come on my face, and a few of them now come on my body, so that by the time the main man is fucking me, I'm usually dripping with come.
I also noticed, the other night, that there was one ass in my dream.
I guess I'm being a little more open-minded by allowing people from different social classes to be in my dream.
But one day, I hope that it happens just the way I dream about it. I know that it can, if I meet a rich man who has rich friends and belongs to a chic club. It doesn't have to be the same exact club. Anything similar will do.
Just the thought of it now is making me start to come again, so you're going to have to excuse me doctor. Maybe I'll see you soon in my next fantasy.