MANDY’S STORY (Memoirs Of A T.V. Slut) free porn video

MANDY’S STORY
(Memoirs of a T.V. slut)







Introduction
Chapter 1 -Early feelings.
Chapter 2 -Evenings in and nights out.
Chapter 3 -A slut in the making.
Chapter 4 -Bizarre encounters.
Chapter 5 -The Club.
Chapter 6 -A working holiday in Amsterdam. (Fantasy)
Chapter 7 -A video star is born. (Fantasy)
Chapter 8 -Out in the wilds with Uncle John.


INTRODUCTION

My name is Mandy. I’m a transvestite with a bit of a tale to tell. In fact I’ve had so many adventures had I’ve decided to share them with you by putting them down in this book. But first, a bit about myself.

I’m 5’5” tall, 9 ½ stone, petite and according to others, very convincing and more importantly, sexy. My best features are my slim body, good legs and pert girlish bottom. This story is illustrated using drawings based on photos of me in action, so you have a pretty good idea of my looks.

The following account was written over a two year period, and covers about a twenty year period from the age of eleven to about thirty one. Over those twenty years I have changed and slowly evolved into the sexy slut I am today.

I wanted to start out by saying that all the chapters except 6 and 7 are as accurate as memory will allow, and contains no exaggerations or embroidery, except those around the edge of my petticoats! I am one of those people who has been lucky enough to pursue their fantasies and make them happen, even when it took a lot of courage. (Althought chapter 7 0- A video star is born’ is fantasy, I have mades several home movies.)

I am a slutty tart by nature, and have spent the last years pursuing encounters that bring out that side of me to the full. I’ve been gang banged at orgies, I’ve put myself in the control of a dominant master, been a hotel and brothel hooker and been filmed for a hardcore movie, plus much more.

I hope you will agree that my voyage of discovery has been very exciting and stimulating.

The story starts off with the tamer aspects of T.V. life, but I should add that I have put in all the hardcore details, so if you are easily shocked, please do not read on!






CHAPTER ONE
EARLY FEELINGS

It’s hard to remember when I had my first desire to wear feminine clothing first started, but I do remember one particularly vivid dream when I was about eleven. I woke up one morning to find that overnight I had grown a cute pair of pert breasts! I cupped them in my hands and tweaked the small, sensitive nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger. Having no bra, I quickly pulled on a clean white T-shirt and jeans and admired my new curves in the mirror. Although I was getting turned on, I could not wait any longer and rushed downstairs to proudly, if a little self consciously, show off my new possessions to my family. The sense of disappointment when I woke up from my dream to find that I only had my usual flat chest was unbearable!

Around this time I had various other non specific submissive and kinky thoughts and dreams, but what brought the whole thing properly into focus was one Saturday afternoon when I was about eleven or twelve. What started out as a simple shopping trip with my mother ended up awakening feelings deep inside me that were to affect me for the rest of my life.

Mum had decided that I was in need of some new summer sandals, and had enlisted the help of her friend Anne to help us. Several stores and many pairs of sandals later we were all admitting defeat when Mum, I suppose in a fit of desperation, picked up a pair of tan strapped sandals and said, “I don’t suppose there would do?” I looked a bit more closely and to my horror, saw that she was holding up a pair of girl's sandals! Blushing a deep crimson, I blurted out “Oh Mum!”, turned and walked away, with the sound of the shop assistants laughter ringing in my ears.

At the time, my main feeling was one of embarrassment, but that night when I was in my bed thinking about that afternoons incident, a warm glow spread from my stomach down to my groin. I imagined being made to wear those sandals and then as my imagination drifted, I thought about also being made to wear a pair of pretty lace panties, just like most little girls wear. I imagined being made to wear all sorts of pretty, feminine girl's clothes, and being paraded in front of all my mums' friends. Of course this was followed by borrowing various articles of clothing from my mum when the family were out of the house, and full dressing up sessions when they were away for the whole day. This was all right for a while, but I knew that sooner or later I would have to have what every T.V. has to have, namely a proper pair of stockings and garter belt. This was the era of pantyhose, so my mum did not have any, but this was not going to stand in my way! But how was I going to get my hands on some?

It wasn’t until I was about f******n that I managed to pluck up the courage to go through with my often fantasised about plan to buy the necessary items. Actually, this was to go to the same department store where I had previously undergone my humiliation with the girl's sandals. My plan was to go into the hosiery department and pick out the pair I needed along with a matching garter belt. Not an easy thing to do, but I had my plan. Of course I guessed that as soon as an assistant saw a young boy looking through the racks, they would as if I needed any help, so I had carefully written out a fake shopping list, including various other items, but among which were the items of my desire.

Sure enough, as I inexpertly flicked through the stock items, my plan started to work like a dream, and a middle-aged assistant came up to me and offered her help. I showed her the list, and she found be a pair of black seamed stockings, (small size) and a suspender belt. I left the choice up to her. She even commented what a nice boy I was for helping my mother out in this way! If only she knew!

When I finally got off the bus and got home, (the journey seemed to take hours) I tried not to look as if I was rushing up to my room, for fear of arousing any suspicion in my parents. With trembling hands I unwrapped the packages and started to roll one stocking on to my leg and the feeling of the tight black nylon started to make me very aroused. This feeling was only heightened when I started to hook up the suspender belt, which was one of those older fashioned ones with a deeper belt and several hooks and eyes at the back. As I fixed the suspenders to the stockings and the tension started to pull on the stocking tops my young cock started to get hard in a way that I had not experienced before. I should point out that at this age, although I had had a few outlandish fantasies, I had not yet had an orgasm. On this day, however, me feeling of arousal was twenty times stronger than usual, and once the garter belt and stockings were in place, I instinctively started to tug at my erect penis, all the time admiring my reflection in the mirror. I turned around and studied my cute bum and, realising the need for some heels on those sexy legs, pulled out some black courts from under my bed that I knew my mum would not have missed, as they were a few years old. I lost all sense of time and space and sank back on the bed and revelled in the feelings I was getting from my now frantic and urgent wanking. Obviously I had heard about orgasms from friends at school, but nothing can prepare you for the real thing!

Suddenly I was interrupted by a violent and overwhelming feeling, as the waves of orgasmic pleasure started their throbbing action at the base of my cock. My first jet of come sprayed over my shoulder, followed by many more that splashed over my chest, stomach and even hitting me in the face! At first I was overwhelmed with joy ant this milestone in my life, but of course, soon after that the guilt crept in. I cleared up the mess, vowing never to do such a perverted thing again, but of course, later that evening I could not resist playing with my new found ‘toys’!

The rest of my school years were spent happily, if a little guiltily, dressing up whenever I was alone in the house and my ideas slowly started to develop. I wasn’t until I had the freedom of my own flat and had a bit of money coming in that I began to branch out into much more daring pursuits.









CHAPTER TWO
EVENINGS IN AND NIGHTS OUT

On finishing my college education, I realised that I had to get myself to London as soon as possible. I had spent my time at college pursuing girls as much as possible and I might say quite successfully, but gradually started to realise that many of the things that I was doing to them, I would probably rather have done to me!

I managed to find a flat with a female friend surprisingly quickly, and we moved on to a hectic social life right away. I was still keeping my dressing habits secret, but luckily Sandra went away most weekends leaving me free to pursue my hobby. After a while, however, I decided that living with someone else was too much of a restriction, and I managed to find a small one room flat. By now I had got myself a steady if rather boring office job, but it helped to finance the flat, not to mention the clothes and make up that I needed. The main attraction of the flat was the large wardrobe along one whole wall. Not only would there be room for plenty of clothes, but the front face of the sliding doors were entirely mirror, and I was thrilled to think that I would be able to lie on the bed or stroll around the room getting a wonderful reflection of myself.

Finally I was free to start to carry out at least some of the fantasies that I had been developing over the last ten or so years.

I started out dressing at home only, and got more and more accomplished at getting the looks that I wanted, loving the reflection in the mirror of the young tart that I had always fantasised about being. I had by now got over the initial embarrassment of buying make up, underwear and clothes, and most Saturdays would find me making a dash around my favourite department stores, thrift shops, markets and Soho sex shops adding something new to my wardrobe. I loved to spend entire evenings at home trying out new make up techniques. I bought various fashion magazines and tried out current styles, but in the end my favourite look was copied from reprints of various 1950’s fetish magazines featuring, among others, the well-known Betty Page. I got better and better at applying liquid eyeliner, false eyelashes, mascara and of course the obligatory red lipstick and lip gloss. My pride and joy was a black satin waspie that laced up the front and gave me a fantastic small waist. I modified it slightly by removing the four thin suspenders and adding eight thicker ones, four each side. I loved (and still do) to fasted each one of those suspenders on to my shiny black stocking tops and really tension them, so that I’m well corseted in. Also making up my favourite outfit (that remains my favourite to this day) were sheer black seamed stockings, high patent court shoes, black lacy fronted g-string, black wonderbra, and baby doll nightie. With my shoulder length blonde fringed hairstyle I looked every bit the slutty sex fantasy.

I soon had enough money to buy a camera and a variety of sex aids, my favourite of which was a big realistic dildo. Having started out tentatively probing myself with one, two and more fingers, I decided that I’d like to try the feeling of a real cock up me. Of course, I was in no way ready for the real thing, but in the mean time, a fake rubber one would have to do!

I loved to get dressed up and then ‘perform’ on front of my large full-length mirror doors. I would squat down on the floor, positioning the fake dick under me so that I could sit on it.. Tentatively I would start to rise up and down until the large head popped into my tight ring. Mouth gaping with lust, I would start to hump up and down until finally I would be riding that thing like a cowgirl on a bucking bronco! Each time I would squat lower and lower until I could sit all the way down taking its full eight inches up me. I loved the feeling of being ‘full up’, and stretched wide open to the limit.

My other favourite for these sessions was photographing myself in all my variety of outfits and underwear. Whether it was virginal white and frilly undies or black and sexy, or any one of my French maids, nurses uniform or regular daywear. I would spend hours capturing myself on film and the excitement of doing it was only matched by the excitement of getting the prints back from the printers. I can well remember the first time. I had been putting it off for ages, as I was worried about anyone getting hold of the prints. Finally I took the plunge and after borrowing a tripod from a friend, got myself ready for a full days photography one week end. I had got used to the timer on my camera, and after getting more and more daring with my shots, finished up very excitedly dropping the finished film into the letter box. It seemed like weeks until the finished prints came and each day I’d look hurriedly through the mail hoping for a small package. Finally, when I had almost given up, It arrived. I impatiently ripped the outer packaging off and looked through the set of prints. Most were surprisingly good, and I got harder and harder as I looked at the whore in the photos, not really able to believe it was me! Of course in the back of my mind was the idea of placing an advert in a contact magazine, but that was to come later.

Of course, there is a limit to what you can get up to at home, and after a while, what had been highly erotic games at home became a bit hum-drum. I was gradually working up the courage for a trip into the outside world. By now I had a little car, and so one week end I finally decided to take the plunge and go for a drive. I was winter, so dark quite early, so after picking an outfit and carefully making up I was ready. I had bought a new short black Mac with a belted waist that looked quite sexy, so I would be properly attired. I had parked the car nice and close by, but still opened the flat door and listened for a good three minutes before venturing out into the lobby. I really didn’t want to bump into a neighbour, but I was in luck, as no one seemed to be in that evening.

As I opened the front door, I was thrilled by the unaccustomed feeling of cold wind on my stockinged legs and as it swirled up my skirts that excited, nervous feeling spread through me. I closed the front door behind me and negotiated the steps down to street level. I was trying not to hurry to much as I didn’t want to attract attention, or to trip in my haste, but luckily made it to the car alright. I had planned to drive into Victoria, as I knew it was relatively quiet at night, except for the area in and around the train station. This would give me the chance to have a bit of a walk in seclusion and then, if I had the courage, I could try a trip into the actual station concourse itself.

Of course, like all T.V.’s who plan to go out in public, I had bee out in my male clothes several times before to plan my route and look for suitable places to park. I knew exactly what my route would be and soon I was heading over Vauxhall bridge and well on my way. I was paranoid about being stopped by the police, who often made check on bridges, but was surprised how little notice was being taken of me. I supposed that in the dark I just looked like any other female driver. The place I had chosen to park was in a back street behind some high office buildings. I parked, checked my make up and after a deep breath, opened the car door and got out. I had left my Mac undone for the time being so as not to look to bundled up, so it was a shock to catch sight of myself reflected in the huge plate glass widow of the dark office building. My stockinged and heeled legs looked great and something about seeing the first sight of myself in public made me very turned on, especially with the street lights and urban landscape. I stopped for a moment to admire my reflection and then decided to get going.

My progress was a bit on the slow side, as I was not used to walking longer distances in high heels, however I soon got into my stride. I was just rounding the corner onto a slightly more main road, when I saw two night time security men chatting in an office lobby area. As I walked towards them, I could tell that one was making a comment about me to the other, and the next thing was that one of them waved and I could tell what was on their mind. I felt slightly panicked, but kept on walking, ignoring their looks and comments. I could feel their eyes watching me and boring into my back as I walked away, and felt thrilled to think what might be going through their dirty lust filled minds. That day however, I hurried on to the main street, deciding to loop back to the car, feeling that my nerves had had enough for one day.

Just walking around in the fairly deserted streets was a big thrill, and I did not have the courage to go into the brighter lit and more crowded area of the station on my first trip, however, after a few more outings, I felt that I was ready to go into more public and populated areas.

It was about 9.45 PM and very quiet, but just as I was walking up the side entrance, out of nowhere a couple came up to me and asked me the way to a certain street. I managed to blurt out that I was sorry, but didn’t know and kept moving on as they said no problem and thanked me. I looked round and didn’t notice them looking round suspiciously, so presumed that they must have been convinced by my appearance. This encouraged me, so I kept going into the station concourse. My heart thudded in my chest and the whole place seemed much brighter and more open than in the day, due to the lack of passengers. The ‘click, click, click’ of my heels on the marble floor seemed very loud and made me feel all the more conscious, but the feeling of vulnerability I found to be very exciting. I was still only half way across and I seemed to be taking ages. Still, I kept going end eventually I made it to the exit and I headed out into the night delirious with excitement. I had done it!

Finally, I arrived back to the car and got in, locking the doors. Switching on the engine and with some panic, I noticed that the petrol gage was in the red, and the empty light was on. I remembered that I had been driving around for a couple of day very low on petrol and in my excitement coming out tonight, had not remembered how low I was. I was really worried that I might not make it back home, so faced the fact that I may have to get some petrol. Most stations in the area were brightly-lit well-patronised ones, but I remembered that there was a small station not to far away and decided that I would have to risk it. It was usually attended by and older Indian man who was always quite friendly, so after a quick drive by to check no other cars were around, I pulled in and stopped. I got out and put a couple of gallons in, more than enough to get me home, and leant into the car to get my wallet. Panic! It wasn’t in my handbag. Terror flooded through me as I considered the situation. Quickly paying for some petrol was one thing. Explaining that I had no money to pay was quite another!

I sat in the car for a few minutes in a state of panicked shock wondering what to do. I could not face going in to explain, but knew that ‘doing a runner’ was equally unacceptable! What if the police caught up with me! In my state I started to dig through my handbag and suddenly felt some paper. I pulled out two ten pound notes and in a flash, remembered that I had decided to leave my wallet at home as it made my handbag heavier and just take loose cash! With a huge sense of relief I got out of the car and went to pay.

“You took a long time to find your money, love,” said the Indian cashier as I approached the desk, “what happened?”

“Well,” I replied “I thought I had left my money at home, but luckily I found it”

“That could have been difficult darlin’, you might have had to find some other way to pay if you had forgotten it!” he chuckled.

Suddenly filled with confidence due to this first ever flirtation from a man, I decided to be a bit bold.

“Well, maybe next time I’ll leave my money at home on purpose and we’ll see what you think I can give you in exchange for a few gallons!”

We exchanged a bit more flirtatious banter, and then I thanked him and left. Our little conversation had got me very horny and on the way home I stopped in a side street and thought about what had happened. Until now the prospect of involvement with men had been a vague prospect, but now my slutty nature was demanding more. As I thought about what might have happened in the petrol station, I instinctively reached under my skirt and freed my hard cock from my stretched, damp knickers. I reclined the car seat a bit, closed my eyes a started to wank my hot dick, running my other hand over my stocking clad leg. Delightful waves of pleasure ran through me as I rhythmically pumped my cock and considered the idea of getting down on my knees behind the cashiers counter and sucking him off in return for my tank of petrol. I imagined him using my mouth finally shooting his load over my face as he lustfully took advantage of the situation. As I did so, my own load shot over the dashboard and window screen and I enjoyed releasing all the lust built up during the evenings outing. As the orgasm subsided, I decided that the time had come to set about something more than solo sex and solo walks in town. To start off with I had always dreaded being accosted by a man and up until this point I had been satisfied with the simple thrill of my nocturnal outings, but now they ended in frustrations and I knew I wanted more to happen. The things that I had been afraid of happening, I was now beginning to hope would happen!


CHAPTER THREE
A SLUT IN THE MAKING

I realised early on that it was a dangerous game to let myself be picked up in public, much as the thought excited me. I realised that I would have to start using other methods to meet potential men. I had my self-taken photos, so decided to take out an advert in a contact magazine, in the T.V. section. I said that I was interested in meeting men at their place for ‘massage e.t.c.’ so as not to commit myself to anything more if I couldn’t face it, if and when we did meet up. I also specified the area I lived in and my specific submissive orientation to give any interested guys a better idea if what I was looking for.

I had decided to use an accommodation address, as I was still a bit paranoid about being traced. It seemed ages until the next edition of the magazine came out, let alone until I received any replies, but when it did arrive and I saw that little photo and advert in print, it was a real thrill and felt like a big milestone. I left it for a week and then called the accommodation address to see if any mail had arrived, and they said there was some. To my disappointment, when I went to pick it up, there were only three letters. Added to this, all three seemed to have ignored the written part of the advert and were totally wrong for one reason or another. My heart sank, and I realised that it probably wouldn’t be so easy as I had thought.

I left things for a fortnight as I had to go away for a while, but on my return, I decided to drop into the accommodation address, just to see if there had been a few more replies. A few more! To my amazement, there was a huge bundle of replies, how many, it was hard to judge. All I do know is that with this lot and the next two trips to pick up my mail, I had a total of seventy two replies!

I got down to the business of replying to the letters and sorted out about ten or fifteen that seemed to fit the bill. I composed a letter to each one outlining my looks (5’ 5” tall, 9 ¼ stone, slim, fair hair, long legs……) and a raunchy outline of my ‘services’. One reply in particular caught my eye, as he lived alone own flat in a mansion block in Hammersmith. He wanted me to come and give him a nice massage dressed in sexy undies and see what developed. Perfect! I also said that I would need his phone number to make a date. I got his reply a week later, and with some trepidation decided to give him a call.

I was very nervous, but he answered quickly and sounded very pleased that I rang, and asked me to come as soon as possible. We agreed on that coming Saturday, and as soon as I put down the receiver, I went into action, deciding on what to wear, what make up to use, and planning the route.

Finally Saturday evening arrived, and it was time to get dressed. I had bought a second hand white nurses uniform from a charity shop, and had taken it up to a length more suitable to my purposes! I passed for a raunchy version of the type of thing worn by girls in beauty parlours. When I had done my make up and hair, and donned my usual black underwear, stockings and heels I slipped into it and was pleased to see how it clung to my figure. The elasticised nurses belt pulled my waist in nicely and the black high heels made it look super sexy.

When it was just getting dark, I put on my short Mac, filled my holdall with a change of clothes and cautiously headed out of the front door and quickly into the car. After an uneventful twenty minute drive, I turned into a side street and then into the apartment blocks parking area, as he had told me to. I parked the car and switched off the engine and my heart started pounding as I considered the walk up to the fourth floor and my first encounter.

My heels clicked on the stone courtyard as I made my way to his block and the noise seemed very loud and echoey. I found the lift lobby without too many problems. As I walked in a hot, horney feeling burnt in the pit of my stomach and started to spread all the way down to my groin. This was intensified as I caught sight of myself in the large wall mirrors. So this was Mandy, the visiting masseuse who would show you a good time! I parted my lips and ran my tongue across my glossed lips. God I was turned on and I could feel my cock straining inside my lace panties. Luckily, the place seemed deserted and I was grateful for this, however, the lift seemed to take ages to arrive, and in a strange way, I could not help half hoping that someone would come out of a flat and witness me in this slutty predicament!

Finally, the lift came and I was soon on my way up. However, when the slow lift finally arrived on the fourth floor and I stepped out, I was seriously considering backing out and I stood there for ages not really knowing what to do. Eventually I stepped up to flat 49 and plucked up the courage to push the bell. A matter of seconds later, the door opened and Derek welcomed me in, looking me up and down as I walked past him. I wiggled my bum as I walked down the corridor and he showed me into his living room. At this stage I had no idea how far I was going to go with him, but I had the feeling that I wanted him to take control of the situation and make that decision for me! He took my coat and left me with a drink while he went to change into a dressing gown. I gulped I down to calm my nerves and sat waiting until he returned.

“Well, you certainly live up to the photo in the advert,” he said “how long have you been doing this visiting massage?”

“Oh, about six months,” I lied “How do you like it, slow and teasing or good and firm?” I asked, surprised at my own boldness.

“Slow and teasing, I think," he said “Shall we go through to the bedroom and get started?” No turning back now, I thought and followed him into the bedroom.

“Why don’t you slip that robe off and lie down on the bed” I suggested.

“Good idea!” he replied and he laid down on his front and I got to work. I rubbed a small amount of oil into my hands and nervously started to rub him down. Paying plenty of attention to the insides if his thighs. He seemed to be enjoying it and finally I told him to turn over and as he did so, he pulled the towel of to reveal his semi hard tool, which popped out and lay against his stomach. He looked at me with agleam in his eye and I started to massage his chest, the excitement growing inside me. As I massaged him, his hand wandered around behind me and started to cares my arse. I leaned over a bit further so he could slip his fingers inside my panties. Soon he started to explore me, feeling the tops of my thighs above my stocking tops and me pert buttocks encased in sluttish black nylon. After a while he asked me if I’d like to slip out of my things and I obediently complied as if in a dream. Feeling very much the whore, I stepped back, removed my belt and unzipped the front of my uniform, letting it drop to the floor and leaving me standing there in underwear, stockings and heels. He seemed mesmerised by me as I pouted and suggestively ran my hands up the inside of my thighs and across my groin. I was gaining in confidence as I saw the effect that I was having on him and by this time his cock was rigid and I knew the moment could not be put off any longer.

“Come on you sexy slut,” he urged “Get to work on that thing, can’t you see it’s in need of some attention!”

Well, that certainly jolted me out of my dream and I dutifully reached down, took a firm grasp of his thick shaft and started to slowly wank him. Adding a bit more oil, I cupped his balls with my other hand and as I worked on him he started to groan with pleasure. At first I decided to just give him a good hand job, but as my excitement built I knelt lower and lower over him and although I think he could sense that I was a bit inexperienced, he firmly encouraged me to go a bit further.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be well paid you little tart, get your lips wrapped around my tool and give it a good sucking” he said.

I didn’t need any further encouragement and started licking his swollen cock head, my tongue darting in and out of my shiny red lips. I was surprised by his offer of money, but realising that he viewed me as a call girl only heightened my horniness and I carried on licking.

“Go on darling….That’s it, get me off you little whore….you love it , don’t you.” he encouraged.

By now, his hand had crept around, behind my neck and he was guiding me nearer and nearer to what he really wanted. Gradually, lick turned into little sucks and before long he was thrusting away into my mouth for all he was worth. The unaccustomed feeling of a hard cock in my mouth was taking a bit of getting used to, but he took his pleasure as he saw fit, and I learnt fast! My head was swimming and just as I was really getting into the rhythm, I felt a salty fluid swelling in my mouth. I pulled away in slight surprise and as I did, a jet of jism pumped out over his stomach, accompanied by his satisfied moans. He pushed my head back down and grabbed his cock, shooting the rest of his load over my mouth and face and when he was done, he had me lick his sticky shaft and cock end clean of all the sperm.

My head was spinning with this new milestone in my ‘Sluts Progress’, and Derek certainly seemed to be satisfied with the session. True to his word he rewarded me with twenty pounds, ‘for the taxi’, and after a bit of a chat, he asked me if I could come again.

That was the first of several visits to him and soon I had a string of similar friends. Of course, I soon started to think I’d like a little more, something a bit more extreme and of course, as usual, I set out to get it!


The next departure was brought about by answering another of the replies to my next advert in my favourite contact magazine. I had decided that I would like to try several guys at once and fantasised about capturing the whole thing on video. I received a reply from John, who seemed to have everything I needed, including the enthusiasm! He had a mews house in central London and was happy for me to call him anytime. He was also prepared to let me keep some of my growing wardrobe there and field calls from anyone who may have been suitable for future sessions and adventures.

John turned out to be a keen appreciator of T.V.’s and loved to see me dressed in the tartiest of outfits. One day he asked if he could help me out by paying for some additions to my growing wardrobe. After thinking for a while, I told him that I’d always wanted a pretty little gingham party dress, suitable for an innocent (or not so innocent) young girl to wear. Although I usually like to play the slut, dressed in the tartiest black underwear, I also have a side to my nature that harks back to my early feelings of wanting to wear girls clothes. I love the fantasy of being a pretty innocent girl, being used and abused, possibly by an older uncle. Well, anyway, this seemed to capture his imagination and I explained that I had seen an advert in a magazine for tailor made clothes for T.V.’s.

I set to work and came up with a sketch for a design that I knew would suit me, carefully drawing it out on paper and adding notes to say what materials were to be used and marking the main measurements. The main fabric was pink and white cotton gingham and it had long sleeves with puff shoulders, edged in lace. It had short gathered skirts and a fitted bodice. The rounded collar was in white cotton, close around the neck and edged in pretty white lace. I had bought some frothy white lace petticoats that would make the skirts look full and the dress fastened up the back with a row of white buttons. The whole effect was finished off with a pretty gingham sash around the waist, tied at the back in a big bow. I sent the design off along with a cheque from John and in the mean time went out to shop for some white frilly underwear, white stockings and suspenders to match and I even found some pink patent T-Bar party shoes that would really finish off the look.

The dress seemed to take ages to arrive, but when at last it did, I unpacked it with trembling hands. It turned out ver well and as I was seeing john that week end, I knew it would not be long before another fantasy came true, doubly so, as we had made contact with a guy called Ron who was also due to meet up with us that day.

My excitement built as I got ready and I chose some pink lipstick and put my hair back in a loose ponytail with a pink ribbon. When I was finally ready I stood in front of the mirror and squirmed with excitement at my reflection. I could not wait to get downstairs to show John and when I did he did not hide his enthusiasm. He said that Ron had called to say he was going to be a bit late, so maybe we should start off by taking a few photos? He photographed me bending over a table, touching my toes and revealing my bottom, encased in frilly white nylon knickers, amid a sea of white petticoats as well as on all fours looking over my shoulder with a innocent but sexy look on my face. He went on to feel my ass and rub me up between my legs and generally get me going.

Finally, all this proved too much for both of us and instinctively he undid his fly to produce a handsome hard on. He sat down and motioned for me to come over and demurely I obeyed. He guided my mouth towards his swollen tool and with growing enthusiasm, I started to suck on the rigid head of his big rod. It wasn’t very long before we had lost all sense of place and time and I was slurping away hungrily on his cock, accompanied by john’s encouragement’s. I was wild with excitement that the new outfit and persona had unleashed in me and before long I was begging to be properly fucked. We were aware that Ron was coming later on and we were trying to hold back, but this only seemed to heighten our desire. I knew we should wait, but my desire took over.

“Perhaps just a little fuck would be O.K., come on and get that thing up me” I begged, and that was all the encouragement he needed!

I lay on the floor, lifting my legs high in the air and as my love hole was already gaping with desire, he slipped easily into me. He pumped away at me for a while and I held my legs back and apart, so that my arse was slightly raised, giving him full access to vent his lust. His rod felt wonderful ramming in and out and as he did so, he used his free hand to wank my rigid prick. The combination of the thorough shafting my arse was receiving along with the wanking that my prick was getting was delicious and suddenly I was past the point of no return. My arsehole clamped tight around John tool and the base of my penis started to go into spasm. There was nothing I could do to stop, and before I knew it, spurt after spurt of my own hot come was jetting out all over my new party dress! I moaned with delight and immediately John started to unload his sack full of jism into me.

“That’s it…..Go on…….Fill me up with your seed!” I begged, as he shot into me and I alternately tightened and then relaxed my love chute as he came, to suck every last drop of spunk out of him.

“Oh! I can feel you sucking my prick into you, you little slut!” he cried, as he shot another wad of come up me.

Soon we were in a crumpled heap on the floor, exhausted from our exertions. Of course we had forgotten all about Ron, and we had a bit of explaining to do when he finally arrived, but the amazing experience had been worth it and I certainly made up for it in future sessions!


I had now had many photos taken of me in various states of undress, not to mention sexy action, but really wanted to progress on to making a video. I really wanted to finish off with a really good facial ‘come’ scene, so we went into action. Following a couple more adverts, we had assembled a list of guys who fitted the bill and following exchange of letters and phone conversations, we set a date for a video party.

As well as John, Ron and myself, we had invited four other well-endowed participants, on the basis that they might not all turn up. We were certainly planning a very spunky finale for the climax of the video.

I spend three and a half hours of meticulous preparation, applying very tarty make up with false eyelashes and a beauty spot as well as the obligatory red lips and nails. I put on my shortest, tightest skirt and a tight black blouse that showed off my figure. I padded out my bra with special realistic breast forms, as I knew it would add to the over all effect. As I was getting ready, I heard the doorbell go several times and the tension mounted inside me as I thought about what was to come.

Finally I was ready and with butterflies in my stomach, I went downstairs to meet everyone. John made all the introductions and to start off with they were all pretty restrained and laid back. One of the three new guys that had turned up had been elected to handle the camera to start off with, as he was the most experienced and as he started to film, they gathered around me and started to feel me up. I felt hands all over me, lifting up my skirt at the back and before very long I could also feel hard cocks restrained in their trousers! Before long I felt myself being encouraged to go down on my knees and I started to pull out their cocks one my one, stroking and licking as I went. It was an amazing feeling to be surrounded by a row of rampant dicks and I was spoilt for choice as to which one to suck next!

Before long, John suggested that we might be more comfortable upstairs in the bedroom. I was followed upstairs by all of them and there were several bawdy comments about my arse and stocking tops as we went! When we got upstairs, I put on a little strip show for them, leaving on my underwear, stockings, waspie and shoes and slipped on my baby doll negligee. John has several large mirrors in his bedroom and as I lay on the bed I was able to see the guys gathering around me one by one as they stripped of their own clothing.

As I lay down, I was immediately surrounded by several hard cocks, each competing for attention. To start off with I took them one by one, but soon I was experiencing two prick heads stretching my mouth open as far as it would go. They pumped away at my mouth as if it was a cunt but soon one of the more well endowed of the party decided he wanted me to himself for a while. He straddled my face with one knee either side of my head and started to ride my mouth, ever now and then slipping his considerable length down my throat and right up to the hilt.

“Come on boys!” I encouraged, “Don’t hold back, there’s plenty to go around!”

I was soon silenced by another guy climbing on board and taking his turn to plug my mouth with his cock. Luckily, lots of practice with bananas and vibrators had desensitised my gagging reaction and ‘deep throat’ had become one of my specialities! The rest obviously decided that this looked like fun and stood in line to take their turn. As far as they were concerned, I was just a slut who had no say in the matter and I was happy to service them all. Finally and reluctantly I broke off for a rest and also to go to the bathroom apply some new lipstick, as all the original stuff had long since been rubbed off.

When I returned, I lay on my side on the bed, raised one leg in the air and motioned to John to come over and position his tool at the entrance to my asshole. As my regulars, John and Ron were the only ones who were allowed to fuck me and they now took it in turns to wedge their members into me, while the others made do with my mouth. As we humped, that video camera whirred on in the capable hands of its operator. Soon we changed positions and I was on all fours, getting shagged doggy style by Ron as the other continued to fuck my gaping mouth. I was rigid with excitement and took Ron’s full weights as he literally sat on my upturned arse, with his prick buried in my burning arse hole, fucking and fucking me until I was sore. We carried on like this for aged, changing positions until several of the guys were starting to ooze pre-come out of their swollen cocks. We had all agreed that the final climax was not far off, so the first lucky stud sat on the edge of the dressing table while I knelt on the floor in front of him, with my mouth just below cock level. The other stood in line and kept their cocks good and hard and watched the spectacle as I sucked and the expectant first guy wanked himself. The cameraman made sure he had a good viewpoint of my face, shooting from above me.

The first candidate was very hard and his glans was swollen like a huge purple tennis ball. I worked away like a good girl, alternating between sucking, wanking and sluttishly licking around the shaft. Every now and then, I’d pull my head back and a long string of his ooze would stretch out from his prick to my mouth or tongue and what a slut I must have looked! I would have to wait to find out!

Finally, with a huge groan, he shot the first spurt of his load into my mouth, a big dollop dribbling off the end of my chin. He kept on coming and soon my face was splattered with his jism. When he was finally done, his place was taken by the next guy who got the same treatment. His shots of come were much more powerful and it literally sprayed out of his cock, covering my cheeks and lips. The next two guys decided to do a double and I quickly took a prick in each hand, wanking then simultaneously and sucking them in turn. They came a few seconds apart and now my face was coated in hot stick come. Huge rivulets of it dribbled off my chin and onto my chest. Finally John took his turn adding to the mess and to finish off with the best endowed guy smeared the come all over my face with his still semi hard tool, slapping it around my mouth and cheeks and generally messing me up!

I couldn’t believe what a slut I had been, satisfying so many men at once. I really felt that I was at my peak of my career as a kinky slut and I revelled in it. Surely I couldn’t top this, could I? What could be cheaper and more whorish than the show I had just captured on video? Mandy, the free hooker who would let a line of guys queue up and shaft her to their hearts content! The finished video confirmed this, and I had many a happy time viewing the results.

Yes, surely I couldn’t top this……….could I?





CHAPTER FOUR
BIZARRE ENCOUNTERS

Having gone through all the usual phases that most T.V.'s go through, dressing at home, first tentative trips out to quiet parts of town in the evening, first meetings with men and so on, I finally realised that I wanted to go on to the next stage, namely, to be taken fully under the control of an experienced master. I had tried a bit of self-bondage and used a leather strap and whip on myself at home, but I knew it would not be long before I would want to do things for real. Finally, I plucked up the courage to answer a few adverts, and one of them struck me as being the kind of master who would be patient enough with a nervous first timer. I wrote to tell him that I was a natural slut and would need no encouragement to be his personal tart, and although I was not into heavy punishment, I would be happy for him to use and abuse me as he saw fit. He wrote back at length, describing what he would like to do with me and said that he had the necessary ‘fully equipped room’, and although he usually was only interested in disciplining ‘real’ girls, my photo excited him enough to offer me an afternoons correction.

Living in London as I do, it was going to be a bit a bit of a journey up to Nottingham, but that did not even figure in my mind as I packed the car with my bag containing my schoolgirls uniform, shoes, underwear, and make up. I had already shaved my legs, and ‘pussy’ area, leaving a small, cute, girlish pubic bush, which was then brushed and perfumed. As I headed up the motorway, I tried to keep my mind on the road, partly out of a sense of road safety, but also to keep myself from getting turned on too early. I was starting to feel the familiar tugging feeling at the base of my stomach that occurs when I’m getting aroused, but I didn’t want to arrive on the verge of orgasm, as I knew that there was a long afternoon ahead of me.

Finally, I turned into his street in a quiet residential road, got my bag from the back of the car, and headed for number 19. I had looked forward to this day for some time now, and although I was nervous, I had already switched on to what I call my ‘auto-pilot’, and the waves of excitement were pushing me forward, like a small piece of driftwood on the incoming tide. I was aware that there was a certain danger in surrendering myself to a complete stranger, but nothing had the power to stop me now!

I pushed the bell, and shortly the door was answered by my new master, who immediately showed me up to the spare bedroom. Having explained where the bathroom was, he left me to get on with the business of transforming myself into the submissive schoolgirl that he had requested me to dress as.

After laying out my clothes, I made up my face, complete with false eyelashes and thick red lipstick. I then put on my waspie, seamed stockings, white regulation school knickers (as requested), bra and high heeled shoes, and after putting on my shoulder length fringed blonde wig, took some time to admire myself in the full length mirror. I am lucky to be just 5’5” tall, 9 ½ stone, petite, slim with good legs, and so could almost get away with being a real schoolgirl. I then put on my short blue pleated skirt, white blouse, school tie and blazer, and the picture was almost complete. Finally, I put my hair back in a low pony tail, smoothed my tie down between my breasts and had one last check in the mirror to see that Mandy, the sexy schoolgirl slut was ready and looking good enough for my new master. I was satisfied and a thrilling shot of pleasure rippled through me and down to my groin. I was ready to face what ever was to come.

I called down the stairs, as I had been told to do, and waited on the landing. As he came up the stairs and saw me, he made the right kind of appreciative noises, and told me that he was very pleased with the wonderful transformation. He certainly looked it too, and I sensed his rising lust by the look in his eye.

He showed me down the corridor, and opened a door to the ‘play room’ and I was thrilled by a violent attack of butterflies as I saw a well-equipped room, the wall lined with floor to ceiling mirror. He had me stand in the middle of the room with my hands clasped in front of me, and walked around me, savouring what was to come. At this point in my life, my experience was limited to oral with the men met through the contact magazine, so this was going to be a big leap forward! Next he brought a chair to the middle of the room, told me to remove my blazer, and sat down, pulling me down over his lap. This was an enormous thrill, surrendering myself to such a humiliation for the first time since being a c***d. He pulled my skirt up, then pulling my knickers up the crack of my arse, and, stroking me, told me that he was going to warm me up, just for starters. I arched my back and offered him my arse to use, but jumped as his hand smacked down on my bare cheeks. He held me down, pushing my neck and legs down, and resumed the punishment. As he continued, I could feel his hard cock against my stomach as I squirmed around and I could tell he was getting as turned on as I was. Having administered ten hard smacks, he parted my legs, and gave me a few on the inner thigh, for good measure. He then had me stand up and explained how it was best to warm up a bottom like that, as it made it easier to take the strap and whip when they came.

He then made me pull up my skirt and inspect his work, as he was to do throughout the afternoon, and I saw a good red hue starting to spread across my behind. As I was doing this, he was fixing a collar around my neck, and fixing a metal chain lead to this. He then lead me across the room to a small podium out of which came a ‘T’ bar, the top horizontal part being padded and about waist height. He first made me kneel on the podium and padlocked the other end of the lead to the base of the ‘T’ bar, while he fixed padded leather wrist and ankle cuffs to me. He then made me stand up and lean over the bar, pulling me down by pulling the lead through a metal ring at the base of the ‘T’, until my heels were raised off the podium and I was standing on my tip toes. Next, he secured my ankle and wrist cuffs to the ring at the base of the ‘T’ and I was firmly tied down and at his mercy. Looking to one side, I could see in the mirror that my short pleated skirt was leaving nothing much to the imagination, my only protection being my knickers. Not for long! He pulled them down around my ankles and pulled my skirt up, tucking it into my waistband to keep everything well on show. As I looked down, I could see a wet stain in the crutch of my knickers, where I had oozed in my excitement. I could also feel my cock rigid with excitement as I squirmed against the leather padded bar under my hips.

I was panting with pleasure and anticipation as he showed me the leather belt he intended to use on me next, explaining that he thought I deserved twenty for being such a slut and turning him on so much. Starting quite softly and leaving a good gap in between each stroke, he proceeded to build up in intensity, until he was lashing me heartily, paying good attention to my thighs and all points of my upturned buttocks. I’m lucky to have quite a pert, girlish bum, and I could sense him getting more and more turned on by what he saw. After the twenty were over my arse was stinging, and he came around in front of me, unzipping his flies and pulling out his cock. It wasn’t more than average in length, but very thick with a bulbous end.

“See what you’ve done you little tart, you’ve gone and got me going,” he said and without further comment, he guided his tool with his hand towards my mouth and parted my lips with the head. I licked his swollen glans like a lollypop when he pulled out, and then he would thrust it in and he used my mouth as he wished. Taking me behind the neck, he thrust away, riding my mouth and throat with abandon. He stretched my cheeks and made me gag a bit, but kept going until he had had enough, no doubt just for the moment!

Next he showed me the dressage whip he planned to use on me next, but first he unfastened my ankle cuffs and fixed them to a long bar that spread my legs apart. He then adjusted and my bindings until I was comfortable. He slowly walked up and down behind me, and I tensed myself ready for the first stroke. Several seconds went by and I presumed he had changed his mind, but the next thing I knew was that several slashes of the whip reigned down on my poor bottom in quick succession. Then he started to pace the strokes much further apart, but they were much harder, and I was made to count the numbers, starting at one, not knowing what number he would end on. He paid attention to my inner thighs, the reason for the spreader bar, and soon my rear end was flaming hot. Finally he stopped at when I begged him to, and he rubbed my arse cheeks, telling me what a good girl I had been for taking that many.

He unfixed my wrist and ankle cuffs from the apparatus, leaving them attached to my wrists and ankles, and once I was free, asked me to remove my skirt and blouse. Once I was partially undressed, he said he wanted access to my nipples, so I asked if I could go back to the spare bedroom and changed into my ¼ cup bra. He said it would be a good idea, and I welcomed the opportunity for a break in the proceedings!

I quickly slipped off my regular ‘Wonderbra’ and bra fillers, and slipped on the black satin ¼ cup. This always had a pleasing effect of squeezing my small, but adequately pert boobs up and together, and exposing my small pink nipples. I also took the opportunity to closely inspect my poor arse more closely. What a shock! Large deep red strap marks were visible, criss-crossed with a multitude of red slash marks from the dressage whip, the tip of each stroke ending in a purple wound. My rear end looked like a badly planned motorway intersection! However, once I got over the shock, I felt myself turned on anew by the damage to my once milky white pert bottom and thighs.

When I returned to the ‘playroom’, he was preparing my next ordeal, and, beckoning me over to a large bench, he proceeded to fix me to it, using ankle cuffs. Next, he threaded some chords through pulleys on the other side of the room and attached weights to the looped ends, the kind of weights that extra weights could be added to when desired. He then came over to me and told me that he thought my nipples and tits could do with a bit of further developing, and he took two adjustable nipple clips from his pocket and started to fix them on to me. As the springs forced the rubber ends together, pinching my nipples, a hot flame of excitement shot through me, and this new type of pain thrilled me to the core. I gasped again as the second clamp bit cruelly into my other teat and he flicked both clamps to check they were secure. As I started to get use to the feeling, he attached the chords from the other side of the room to the nipple clamps and then added the first extra weight to the other end, stretching my nipples out in front of me, over the top of my revealing bra. There was no point in squirming, as I was completely secured to the bench, and one by one he added more and more weights. The initial sharp pain in my nipples turned into a slow exquisite burning sensation, sending bolts of hot pleasure down to my groin. The clamp bit harder and harder into my nipples, distorting and stretching them into two conical shapes, and still the weights were added! This was my first introduction to nipple torture, and my master showed no signs of leniency for this beginner!




Finally he seemed satisfied with my progress and he removed all the weights and then the clamps. Once I got over the sharp pain produced by the removal, I looked down at my poor nipples to see two red enlarged teats, with dark purple indentations either side where the clamps had been. Next he unclipped my bra, removed the straps, and fetched the dressage whip. He said that he planned to increase the flow of blood to my boobs further by means of a good beating! He took his time as he aimed measured flicks of the long thin crop at my small pert boobs. By the time he had reached four strokes on the left one, deep red slashes had appeared, and he continued, varying the angle on each stroke. When he reached ten on the first tit, he switched to the other one, repeating the process. After ten, I presumed he had finished, but not so! He returned to the fist one and repeated the ten strokes on both tits! No! no! I gasped, but my heart was not in it, and the pain was equalled by a wonderful pleasure.

Finally, he finished, and unbuckled me, leading me over to the mirror to have a better look, up close. My boobs were criss-crossed with an amazing pattern of whip marks, some of which were already turning purple at the ends. As I stared transfixed at his handiwork, he pressed himself behind me, fondling one boob with one hand, and probing my now hot and throbbing anus with the forefinger of the other. Due to my excitement, and to my shame, by hot asshole parted to his thick finger and my building lust made me arch my bum towards him and moan with horny excitement.

“Bend over and let’s have a look at this gaping little cunt of yours” he said, and I bent and grasped my ankles as he directed.

“Lets see if we can loosen you up a bit more, thought I’m not sure if you need it!” he said and as he did, he eased a second thumb into me and started to stretch my ass-pussy open. All the time he was telling me to ‘open wide’, and gently stretching me and pulling me towards him. As he did I felt his cock brushing my leg and I thought by now he must be finished with my tits and would turn his attention to lower down my anatomy. I was wrong!

“That’s enough of that, “ he said, “Well get back to your cunthole later.”

As he talked, he produced a bag from a cupboard, and pulled out a jumble of small pegs with little bells, like the sort you’d see on a cat's collar, attached to each one. He had me lean against the wall with my legs slightly parted, and proceeded to attach them to my arse cheeks. Each one made a pleasurable burning sensation and he attached it, and soon each buttock was adorned with about fifteen or so of the devices. He then had me turn around and as I did so, a gently jangling sound was made. Next he started to attach them to my titties, concentrating most around the nipple area. I was breathless with excitement, and on a wonderful dividing line between pain and pleasure.

“Now you little bitch, let’s see how well you dance. I want you to shake that tush and titties for me.” He put on some music, and I started to move to the music, The more I shook my arse, the more the bells jangled, and the more the burning sensation increased. I shook my titties violently from side to side for him, and gasped at the shot of pleasure / pain that it produced. All the time he encouraged me to keep the bells going, and stroked his dick as he did so.
After a while, he turned the music off and told me to stand very still as he removed the clips. Each one was stingingly painful, and when he was done, I was allowed to rub my tits and arse, which by now were bumpy and pitted with the abuse that had received.

By this time I was so horny that I would have done anything asked of me, and when he told me to get on my knees and suck him till he was good and hard, I realised with pleasure and trepidation that he was planning to fuck me. I had not had a mans cock up my love hole before, and I knew from experience of using a dildo on myself that I was very tight down there. However, as I obediently sucked his rigid tool, I felt so turned on, that I thought I could take anything up my ‘pussy’, so when he pushed me down onto all fours and positioned himself behind me, I only felt desperation that he would start fucking me as soon as possible, and rip away the virginity that I had been dying to loose. I begged him to be gentle as it was my first time, and he assured me that he was experienced with first timers. I was worried that he was going to hurt me, but I needn’t have because as before, he eased a thick thumb into my hot red hole and fucked me with it for a while, before squeezing the other one in and gently stretching my sphincter wide open.

“What a little slut you are,” he said, as he alternated between plunging his two thumbs into me and then pulling my hole wide open for his pleasure. “I don’t think I’m going to have too much of a problem getting my dick in here!” he said, with some degree of satisfaction.

Next I felt his huge knob end positioned at the entrance of my ‘cunt’ and as he slowly started nudging the tip in and out, he then firmly lunged and was all the way in my up to the hilt. My juicy hole was obviously completely dilated, and I was so horny that I could see that my first proper fuck was going to be wonderfully easy. I arched my back as he held on to my arse cheeks and began to ride me more and more vigorously, until soon he was ramming in and out, and I was moaning for more. I gave voice to my desires, begging him not to stop. His thick manhood felt wonderful in my love hole and as he slowed his pace, I was able to appreciate his exceptional thickness as it stretched my cunt to its limit. Each time he plunged in, I tightened my pussy muscles, trying to suck him back into me, to give him the extra pleasure he deserved. He too was groaning with pleasure my now, and was obviously holding off spurting his load into me. His thick veined cock felt wonderful as it filled my ass and stretched my sphincter to its virginal limit. I felt just like a teenager getting laid for the first time by her horny date. As he rode me I stood firm on all fours and he grabbed handfuls of my as cheeks to steady himself. I did not mind his rough and selfish treatment, as I wanted to be a good girl for him. I wanted him to have the maximum pleasure from me and I knew he was going to take it. He just wanted me to be his submissive slut and whore and totally focussed himself on using me as his fuck toy.

Reluctantly he withdrew, and helped me to my feet, and over to lie down on a knee high padded bench. He fixed my neck collar to a ‘D’ ring positioned towards the far end of the bench, holding my head secure, and then looped two ropes through the ‘D’ rings on my ankle cuffs, and pulled me legs up and over my head, folding me in half. By this time I was in a sort of trance, and everything he did to me only heightened my growing pleasure and lust. My hands were free to steady myself, and he then straddled the bench, positioning his cock at the entrance to my pleasure hole. He then rode me in this position for ten or fifteen minutes, stopping every so often to hold off from his climax. Soon my ravaged cunt hole was starting to burn, and finally he freed my in order to prepare me for the grand finale.

He told me that as I had been such a good, compliant girl, (not to mention willing!) and he was going to treat me to a good face full of spunk, and he asked to kneel in the middle of the room. This I did and he wasted no time in getting a firm grip behind my neck and slipping his length into my throat. He used my mouth and throat very slowly and gently now, as I could tell he wanted to prolong his pleasure. He told me to ‘open very wide’ and he rubbed his oozing dick end around my mouth and over my lips. Next he would force his cock into my throat, producing big ribbons of thick spit mixed with his pre-cum which started to slop down my chin and onto my titties and then he would ride my throat vigorously for a while. As he did he reminded what kind of girl I was