Jonni leaned over the girl on elbows and knees and with one hand directed the head between the lips. She whispered promises: "It'll feel so good in a minute, darling. You'll love having me in you."
She lodged the head against the inner mouth. She kissed Sondra passionately and pushed.
Sondra screamed in her throat and tore her mouth free. She tried to squirm away from the impalement. The dildoe was partway in her! It hurt! It was so big in her!
"The worst is over, darling. The pain will go away in a minute."
Jonni was tremendously aroused. It seemed to her she could feel the inside of the virginal cunt – that the dildoe was a part of her, alive, sensitive. A kind of madness seized her, a dizzying lust to fill the girl, to plunge her manhood deep, oh so deep, into the never-before fucked vagina, to make the girl her slave this way, too! To be a superman to the girl, to keep her forever, to make the little, full-bodied child forever dissatisfied with anything less in skill and endurance and pleasure than her.
And so, in her lust and in her dream, in her lesbian need, Jonni forced more and more of the long dildoe into the bleeding, howling child.
"Be quiet, darling. It doesn't hurt that much!"
She drew the dildoe out a bit and thrust deeper. She pressed a palm over the girl's mouth to muffle the raw shrieks.
Sondra screamed and twisted. She clawed to be free, to make Jonni stop.
Jonni gritted angrily, "Stop it! This has to happen first, don't you understand? A little pain is good for you!" And Jonni drove in and out, in and out… thrusting ever deeper against the soft, yielding depths, knowing by body feel and position that six inches of the dildoe was in the girl now… and now seven… and now…
Sondra's voice was hoarse from crying, sobbing, from screaming into the hand that cupped over her mouth. Her belly was a shredded ache, as if shards of glass were in her. A terrible club was beating in and out of her through that awful glass.
"You're a big girl now; you don't have to cry like a baby!" Jonni felt the first slap of her dildoe's base against Sondra's pussy. Her mind blazed with triumph and delight. Eight inches! Eight solid, long inches were sinking into the dear child's cunt!
Jonni whispered, "Now you'll start to feel good, darling. Feel it? Fell it?" There was a curving, rounded hump on the base designed to contact the recipient's clitoris upon full penetration.
Jonni thumped fast and hard, confident, sure…
But Sondra continued to sob and struggle as the minutes passed. And there was an odd, wet, sloppy sound to fucking.
Jonni peered under – between their bodies – and stopped dead in mind-numbing shock.
Blood! So much blood! A large area of blanket was sopping wet under Sondra's thighs and buttocks.
Jonni pulled out. The dildoe was shiny wet with bright red blood. Blood dripped from Sondra's gaping, smeared vulva.
Sondra curled up into a ball.
Jonni was shocked into sanity. She hastily flung the pulled down bedspread over the stain. She stripped off the dildoe and harness. She put them away and shut the drawer. She got Sondra off the bed and into the bathroom. She ministered to the girl, again soothing, promising never to do it again, pleading to the girl not to tell May.
Sondra stopped bleeding soon thereafter. She could hardly walk. But she dressed, put on her coat, demanded all Jonni's cash, and walked painfully out of the apartment.
Jonni threw out the incriminating blanket and slightly blood-spotted top sheet. She told May later she had accidentally spilled shoe polish on them. She bought new ones.
She told May Sondra had been gone when she had gotten back from delivering May to her babysitting job.
To Jonni's relief, Sondra never came back. May reported her daughter missing after three days. She never suspected the truth.
This is the single case of a sequence of events where, although the young girl cooperated in her seduction, she objected to the forcible penetration by a dildoe. Jonni would have to be called a psychopathic personality. Like many lesbian psychopaths, she refuses to see a therapist. The prognosis in her case would appear not to be encouraging.
CHAPTER FOUR: RUTHIE
Occasionally I receive in the mail a cassette cartridge sent by someone who had seen my ad in one of the sex tabloids. In that ad I asked for true sex experiences for use in books such as this.
I have received a number of letters, long and short, and rarely a tape recording.
But today's youth are oriented more to talking and tape than to writing and the printed word. It is part of the technological/electronic evolution of our culture and society.
The cassette mentioned above was an hour long and tells the story of Perry and Ruthie, brother and sister. It was narrated by the brother. He has a rather nasal, slurred young tenor voice.
I had to edit the transcription a bit; word for word it was too long, too rambling, too incoherent in places.
But what you are about to read is ninety-nine percent as it was spoken into the microphone.
When reading this account, please remember that it is Perry's version. He makes out Ruthie as the aggressor, it could be; activity such as he describes has been known to happen.
Here, then, is the story of ten-year-old Ruthie and seventeen-year-old Perry. I have changed names. The speaker may have altered names, too.
"My little sister Ruthie is real crazy, I think, the way she acts. She's crazy about my peter. She always likes to pull it out of my pants and play with it."
"She's ten years old – almost eleven now, but she was just past her tenth birthday when she started this business. Something set her off and I don't know what."
"She's got little breasts already, which is pretty incredible in a way. But she's got them. She showed them to me right off in the bathroom when she started getting curious about my peter. She was real proud of them."
"She walked right in like she owned the place while I was in the tub. Dad was working overtime and Mom had just gone to the store. So Ruthie just opened the door and walked in and said, 'I've got tits! Want to see?'"
"I crossed my legs fast and used the washcloth to cover that area, too. It sort of blew my mind, her coming in like that. She got a look at my peter, too, before I could cover up. What really bothered me was that I had a pretty good stiff-on at the time. I was thinking about how my date was going to go that night if I had my way about it. Just dreaming about feeling her up good and maybe she'd get all steamy and want more."
"So I had a stiff. And I'm like Dad – I've got a helluva big one. I've seen him naked a couple times, and he's got a big one soft, so I guess I got mine from his genes. We're both tall and skinny and he's getting bald now so I guess I've got that to look forward to, too."
"Ruthie sort of takes after him, too, being tall for her age, and skinny, except she has Mom's gray-green eyes and curly reddish hair. My hair is more blond and just naturally wavy. And my eyes are blue."
"Anyway, there I was with my big peter showing for a split second when Ruthie came into the bathroom like that. And she got a look at it. And she asks me if I want to see her tits. It was like she was showing off a present or something."
"I said, 'Hey – you shouldn't walk in on a guy like this.'"
"She said, 'I don't care. What are you covering up for? I already saw it.'"
"I said, 'Why do you want to show your tits?'"
"She said, 'I just do, that's all.' She had on a robe because it was her turn to take a bath after me. She started unbuttoning her robe from the bottom. She said, 'Don't you want to see them?'"
"I said, I'll look at them if you want to show them.'"
"So she kept on unbuttoning her robe, which was green with white trim and big white fuzzy buttons, and she held it open and there she was all naked."