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My name is Kaley, and I got the idea for writing these stories from my best friend and super-slut-masochist Amy (did I mention that she's a real slut?). Her master (I'll get to that later) told her to keep a diary of all the perverted things she did and when she read it to me, out loud, I knew I had to write my own, but I'm not going to call it a diary, since that's just stupid. Instead, I'm going to post it on the internet to get all the pervs all revved up and stuff.
I should probably start by describing myself, since my writing is going to be about all the perverted things I've been up to, and I know all you pervs out there want to know what my juicy little self looks like :). I'm tiny, 4'10", and weigh 88 lbs. I have blond hair that reaches to mid-back, and I like to wear it in a pony-tail most of the time. Most everybody says I'm cute, pixyish, with ice-blue eyes and pale lips. My teeth are perfect, but everybody teases me about my body, saying I look like a 10 year old boy (they don't tease me for long, heh). I keep hoping that I'll get some tits soon, like Amy (she's got a nice pair on her), but I'm completely flat, which is a bitch.
Anyyyyway, I guess I should start the story at when things really got going. Amy (remember her, my best super-pervy friend?) and I had fooled around a couple of times--I'm not a lesbo, no matter what you think reading this. I'm not even really a bi, it's just that I find girls being abused, raped, tortured, incredibly, and I mean incredibly, hot. I know, I'm a total nut-case-perv, but there is something about girls, I don't know--they're just so weak. It's like they were made to be overpowered by men--so strong, so brutal, so filled with lust--their bodies used for men's pleasure, all their snotty bitching and whining and game-playing wiped away by the overwhelming force of a man.
My friends, you know, are always playing mind-games, fucking with each other. It's just little, stupid stuff, but it drives me crazy, and I see it everywhere. I just love the idea of one of these game-playing little bitches being taken down a peg or three, shown that all her games mean nothing, that at bottom she's just a bunch of fuck-holes. I don't know when I started thinking this twisted crap, but I think it started before puberty. When I hit puberty, though, it's like my perviness went into overdrive, and I started having this really nasty fantasy. In it I discover some man (it's usually a hot one, like one of my teachers or my dad's friends or even just some guy I spot at the mall) is actually a white-slaver and is grabbing girls and training them to be fuck-sluts, by, you know, brutalizing them and raping them and doing all other kinds of pervy things to them. Somehow (and this part is always vague) I become his apprentice and help him grab and train these girls, who are then sold off to various pervs.
Huh. I guess I got away from the actually story. You see, I had just discovered that my best friend Amy was even a bigger perv than me (she's already told the story of how I figured that out, which I might copy and post here from her diary, but then again, maybe not). Where I got off on fantasizing about being trained as a slut trainer, she got off by fantasizing about being raped and tortured. I thought I had died and gone to fucking heaven, let me tell you. The first night we fucked for hours, hours, and it was fucking incredible. I did the most fantastic things to her, it makes me juice up just to think about them. And the second time, about a week later, was just as good.
It was like I was a kid dropped into the biggest candy store in the world, and Amy was the candy. Did I tell you that Amy is smokin' hot? She is. All the guys have wanted her since junior high, and they would have bagged her if I hadn't been around to run interference, she's so clueless about that type of thing. She's got these sweet, succulent little tits and.... Heh. I'm getting distracted again. So there I am, just starting up on a new relationship with my best friend, not thinking it can get any better, but it does, so much better.
Amy's got this neighbor guy who lets us use his pool, and he's this total stud. I've always digged older guys, and he was like thirty or something. He was tall with brown hair and brown eyes and he just oozed masculinity. And I used to always tease him, you know the way, wearing my skimpiest bikini when I hung out with Amy, talking with him, giving him the look, touching him, always trying to get him to look at me. It wasn't just teasing, though. I would have let him fuck my brains out. I would have spread for him in a second had he shown the slightest interest. Instead he just politely pushed me away or ignored me or answered me in a perfectly 'appropriate' manner. Sure it kind of frustrated me, but I was still a virgin, and as much as I knew I would have let him slam his man-meat into my virgin little quim, I was still kind of conflicted about the whole thing.
So, it's about a week before me and Amy, we start high-school, and about a week since we'd fooled around, and we were hanging out at the pool on a weekday, and Mr. Cameron (that's her neighbor's name) was hanging out on his deck working on a computer, and I was horny as hell. I was wearing these little boy-short bikini bottoms and a simple wrap bikini top, both white, and did I mention that I was horny as hell? Well, Amy was just kind of hanging out in the pool, looking just scrumptious in a blue one-piece, while I was sitting at the edge of the pool with my feet in the water. I don't know what got into my head but I got up and came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his neck, my hands resting against his stomach through his t-shirt, my head next to his.
"Whatcha doin'?"
He didn't act surprised or anything, just turned his body sideways toward me so that I was forced to let go of him and stand up behind his chair.
"Actually, I'm taking a break; doing a little reading."
"Really?" I swung around the chair and plopped myself into his lap. I swear I tried to grind my little ass into his cock--he was wearing swim trunks. "You know, sir, I never thought I had properly thanked you," extra emphasis on 'thanked', "for letting me and Amy use your pool." I was being such a forward slut.
His hands were hot on my waist as he lifted me off of him and stood up, as if were completely normal for a hot teen-aged girl to throw herself into his lap.
"You don't have to thank me, Kaley. I'm more than happy to get some use out of the pool. I don't use it much." With that he headed into the kitchen. I followed, frustrated, determined to get him to notice me, to want me. Like I said, I was horny.
I leaned against the island counter top and watched him as he took out a glass, put it on the counter, and went to the 'fridge to get some lemonade. I took the opportunity to scurry around the counter and hop up on it, leaning back on my hands and spreading my legs just a little, taking what I figured would be a sexy pose. I was making myself even hotter with my crazy behavior. I really didn't think he'd do anything, but I wanted to make him want to do something, and would have loved it if he actually did do something.
When he turned around, I saw him pause for just a second, his eyes taking me in, and I sucked in a quick breath, excitement coursing through me. Then he stepped forward, to the side of me, and poured his lemonade into his glass. When he turned back to get some ice cubes from his freezer I said,
"Mr. Cameron, I'd really, really like to do something, anything, anything you want me to do, to thank you." My hands were gripping the edge of the counter now, and I was leaning forward. I could feel myself blushing as I watched his back, waiting for his response, horny and afraid of his rejection at the same time.
He turned around, holding a tray of ice cubes, and just looked at me. I trembled as I watched his eyes as they devoured me. God, I don't know what I was hoping, but I think I wanted him to pick me up, throw me on the ground, and fuck me until I screamed, and then to keep fucking me until I passed out. His gaze seemed to last forever.
Then it was over, and he next to me filling his glass with ice cubes, saying,
"Kaley. You're thirteen years old. I'm over twice your age. Even if I were inclined to take you up on your offer, it's called statutory rape, and I would lose my job and end up in prison." He turned and looked at me, and something in his eyes made my heart skip a beat, "I would have to trust you a great deal to even consider such an offer."
He locked eyes with me, and my mind felt like mush. I knew he had rejected me, but then again he hadn't rejected me. Then things started to get really crazy.
"Let me show you something, Kaley. Amy! Get in here."
When he called for Amy I was shocked. I was so shocked when she came through the sliding glass door, her blue bathing suit wet, hugging the curves of her body, her hair damp, clinging to her shoulders, that I hopped down from the top of the counter, went around it, and started to approach her. She ignored me completely, wouldn't even look at me, just went around until she was standing in front of Mr. Cameron, between him and the counter island.
"You see, Kaley, I trust Amy," he turned her around until she was facing me, her legs hidden behind the counter, and I watched as he slid his hand across her stomach, down, disappearing beneath the counter. Oh god, now I know what they mean when the say 'struck dumb.' My jaw must have been on the floor. I couldn't speak, couldn't move. It was like my mind couldn't accept what was happening. I saw Amy tense, her lips part, a gasp coming from her, and I just knew that his fingers had entered her. I felt my heart pounding.
"I have something she needs," he said, pulling her backward, pushing her shoulders forward until her head and shoulders rested on the counter, her hands under her head, her back arched, her ass thrust up, her legs spread. "You know what Amy needs, don't you Kaley." I watched, dumbfounded, as I caught a flash of his cock, rampant, before he pushed his hips against Amy's, and I knew, just knew, that he had penetrated her. Oh my fucking god, here was Mr. Cameron, my hot fantasy old guy, fucking my best friend in his kitchen right before my eyes.
I took a step back, crazy thoughts banging through my head as I watched Mr. Cameron's hips thrust back and forth, my friend's body swaying slightly with each thrust, her eyes turned away from me, even though I could see a bright blush on her cheeks. I felt jealousy at Amy taking Mr. Cameron from me, jealousy at Mr. Cameron for taking Amy away from me, rage at Amy for not telling me, fear at being left behind, shock that this was happening, and, underneath all the other stuff, this crazy lust that seemed to burn my skin.
His voice seemed to cut through my head.
"So, Kaley, why don't you tell me what you can do for me that my Amy can't?"
"If I tell..." I started, but stopped when I saw his smile.
"Tell her Amy. Tell your best friend what happens if she tells."
The little slut didn't even look at me when she told me, told me even as she was being slowly fucked bent over the counter, told me how he would deny it, how she would back him up, saying that I had been flirting with him for over a year, and that he always put up with me, and that, finally, when I had taken it too far, he had told me I wasn't welcome back at his pool, so I decided to make things up.
I was sooo angry when I heard her, the betrayal seeming to stab at me. God I wanted to smash her, to really, really hurt her right then, hurt her so bad, I was trembling with rage, and lust. Oh god my rage was making me so horny. Then he repeated himself,
"So, what can you do for me?"
And it hit me so hard that I think I just stood there looking like an idiot for a minute. He was goading me, telling me the answer, telling me what he wanted to hear, practically telling me that my greatest fantasy could come true, or come as close as most people get, if only I said and did the right thing.
I turned and ran upstairs into his bedroom, my heart pounding as I searched through his toy-box (I haven't told you how I know about his toy box, but he's got one filled with all kinds of fun toys in his closet), finding the paddle and a dildo and running back downstairs with them, my skin feeling as if it were one fire. I practically threw myself against the counter, reaching across it and grabbing Amy's hair, jerking her head up violently, forcing her to look at me.
"You bitch," I snarled, letting all of my rage and jealousy out, and spit on her, right in her eye, and then I spit on her again, right in her mouth. I saw her lust, saw it in her eyes, saw it raging even as she flinched from me, even as I twisted my hand in her hair, pulling it brutally. "Willing to betray me, me! For cock. Your best friend! You're a worthless cunt! You want cock! Here it is." I slammed the dildo into her mouth, shoving it in until I knew it was halfway down her throat, knowing that she could take it even as she gagged and tried to twist away from me. Then I picked the paddle back up and walked around until I was at her side, taking in her arched back, her sweet titties hanging against the side of the counter, her legs spread. I licked my lips when I saw his cock, slick and huge-looking, sliding in and out of Amy's cunt, the flap of cloth from her bathing suit pushed to the side.
I turned the paddle on its edge, took careful aim, and swung it with all my strength. It hit with a sickening thunk against her left breast, smashing it against the side of the counter, digging brutally into the hanging globe through her bathing suit. A gurgling sound came from Amy, and, seeming to float on my rage and bubbling excitement, lust burned through my body. Again I hit her tit, hurting her, making her gurgle and grunt in pain even as Mr. Cameron kept up his steady, remorseless fucking. On the fifth blow I saw her body tense and I knew the slut was cumming, which just seemed to make me angrier.
I went to the other side of her body and started beating her other tit. On only the third blow I saw her cum again and I think if Mr. Cameron hadn't said something I might have started beating her back with the paddle, I was so angry and turned on. I said I was a super-perv, okay?
"Kaley! Tell me. What can you do for me?"
I was panting heavily as I turned to him, looking like nothing had happened, his hips still driving his cock into my friend's greedy little cunt, his eyes now on me, demanding something from me. I knew what he wanted, what I wanted. I knew exactly what to say.
"I can help you with her," I motioned to Amy. "This cunt was willing to sell me out for a little cock. You can't watch her all the time. I can. I can make sure she doesn't go slutting around like the cunt she is. I can be your right hand. I can do things to her to keep her in line." I paused.
"And what do you want from me that will make me trust you?"
I said the words that I had only said in my fantasies.
"I want you to teach me, train me how to control her, to control bitches like her. How to find and use sluts as they were meant to be used. Please."
I watched his eyes as I stood there, the paddle dangling from my hand, waiting. He stepped back from Amy, pulling his cock from her cunt, slick and hard, swaying as he stepped up to me. He put his hands on my shoulders and I knew what he wanted and fell to my knees, my eyes still on his, my head tilted back, my lips parted, his cock swaying in my peripheral vision. His hand seemed to engulf my head while he placed his cock against my lips, and I tasted the sour taste of Amy and the salty, course, bleach-y taste of his cum.
And then I felt his cock throb against my lips, and his cum shot into my mouth, bitter and salty and nasty, and I shuddered in lust as his eyes held mine, his cock pumping cum into my mouth as I kneeled before him.
"Get down here Amy," he said, and then Amy was kneeling in front of me, the dildo I had shoved into her mouth dropped on the floor, her hands on either side of my face and her face next to mine, her lips crushing mine, her mouth open, her tongue searching my mouth, her knee pressed hard against my crotch.
I started grinding myself against her knee like a madwoman, I was so fucking turned on I thought I was going to explode. I grabbed her by the head, and with Mr. Cameron's words, "Feed the slut my cum, Kaley," I practically spat his cum into Amy's mouth as my orgasm shook my body, my mind seeming to shut down, darkness closing over my vision, my whole body burning and burning and pleasure surging through me. When it was over I noticed that Mr. Cameron was just standing there, lemonade in hand, watching, and I turned red with embarrassment.
"Why don't you and Amy go out to the pool and cool off. She'll tell you what you need to know."
We did, and she did.
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