"Matt when I came to New York it was as if I had burned down everything behind me. I wanted to sell the shop to be with you. When everything was done though, I started to feel as if I had lost a baby. Coming to New York did not improve the situation at all. You had been there for four months and it seemed to me as four years. In my eyes you had changed. You had reached almost all of your goals. You also loved every single aspect of it, finding new groups and taking the risks of releasing them. The waiting for the first feed backs from the market and the joy when it worked as planned.
I Amsterdam I felt as part of a team, in New York I felt excluded. We did not make love as much as we had done in Amsterdam. I really tried to fight it, but I started sliding into depressive moods. I blamed it on affairs that you undoubtedly must have had during your time alone in New York. One I can even give a name: Nicolette and don't look so innocent. It was clearly visible every time you both were in the same room.
I know now that transgender people are very sensitive for such conditions. But also today I do not know how to prevent it. Anyway, when you were away on your business trips, I did not join our regular crowd to go out in the city. I befriended some of the gay and transsexual people we knew. I started to join them when they visited their hide outs and underground scene clubs. I found myself strangely at ease in such surroundings. That was when my idea started to grow that I wanted to get away from you. Although I did in no way want to leave you, I decided that I needed time for myself. At first I was thinking to go to San Francisco, but then I heard about the scene in New Orleans and decided to take a look.
When you were away at the yearly convention of your company that was in London, I saw my chance. You were surprised that I did not want to join you, but I had other plans. I flew to New Orleans and fell in love with city from the very beginning. I found out about the possibilities to study the social environment of music. I could even combine that with medical colleges dealing with the implications of transgender people.
I don't know why I did it. A possible explanation is that I wanted to discover myself on my own, oh I don't know. I wanted to live on my own; I wanted to be able to go to the scene bars alone. I wanted the freedom to start affairs with women, with men and with other transsexuals. I had started to feel constricted by you. In your race for success you overwhelmed me. This was worse for me, as I had no goals anymore after selling the shop. Going to New Orleans meant to go alone and that was one of the main reasons for my decision.
When I came to the Big Easy everything looked great. Although my fellow students were all younger than me, they accepted me readily. I did not want to be the rich lady coming down to the poor student's life. That's why I generally ate in the cheap eating houses and system restaurants with them. We discussed about music and I could impress them with my knowledge that I had gathered during the review evenings. When I started my study of gender medicine, it was like opening a door to another world. I learned more about trans-sexuality; its history, its mental implications and medical backgrounds. I found the nice place that you know. The place was soon known in the students' community as a haven and kind of safe house when you had problems.
One of the places I frequented was the Hard Rock Café opposite the Jackson Brewery Building. That is where I met Margeaux, Marge of Cajun heritage. That evening at the cafe we both were with a group of friends. She saw me listen intently to some Cajun music and asked me whether I liked that kind of music. That evening we talked about musical tastes. We also found out that we were of the same age. At the end of the evening, she asked me whether she could invite me to dinner. When I said yes we made an appointment during the coming weekend, in one of the Vieux Carré restaurants.
On Saturday I went into town and was delighted to see that the restaurant was called the "Inner Court" and specialized in Cajun cuisine. As something special, the menu stated that the kitchen leaned heavily on Italian influences. You know the place by the way, as we ate there several times together. You especially liked their Jambalaya Italiana.
She welcomed me when I came in and soon I found out that she was the owner. She had inherited the restaurant from her parents. That night we talked about music and about our earlier lives. She loved my stories about Holland. At that time, I did not tell her about you or my being a transsexual. I got an invitation for the next weekend to visit her parents who lived in Cajun County near Lafayette. You know the area from our visits together.
If I thought that New Orleans was on another planet, Cajun Country must have been in another galaxy. In a flat marsh-like country there were little towns with road signs in French. The town of Lafayette was a jewel and bustling with Cajun and Zydeco music. Marge's parents lived outside of town in an old plantation house. With much love, they had transformed the house into a beautifully furnished hotel. During the weekend I was there, they only had a few guests. Most rooms were occupied by family partners and their guests. Arriving early Friday evening we were welcomed by her parents and two brothers. One of the brothers had a friend as guest and the other one had his wife with him.
The dinner that night was spent in a large nearby restaurant, featuring live music and dancing into the late evening. Of course I had to learn the Cajun dances like the Two Step, the Waltz and the Jig. I did my best to learn them as quickly as I could. My partners and tutors were Marge's younger brother and his friend. It was clear that both of them started some heavy flirting. Also during the next day and evening they continued their contest for me. I was flattered of course, but as I was not looking for an affair I did not let it go too far.
That night in my room Marge came to me and lied beside me. She came right to point asking me why I had not reacted to the flirtations of the boys. I was excusing myself not wanting to start something with them at my first nigh. Also on the second day I thought it inappropriate to start something. She interrupted me with a wicked smile. Would I change my mind when she started to flirt with me? Her proposal sent butterflies to my belly Matt. I was in no way interested to start something with another man, but the prospect of making love to a woman was exiting me tremendously. When she saw my silent confirmation she kissed me on my mouth. Saying that we would talk about it the following day she left for her own room. I slept, dreaming of tender hands and lips exploring my body.
The next day was like heaven. I saw her now with other eyes. I noticed that she did not wear underwear and I was turned on. During the day we touched each other whenever a possibility occurred. When we were watching a street parade she stood behind me. When she pressed her abdomen to my butts, I marvelled at feeling her pubic bone against me. On the drive back to New Orleans, I had to resist the urge to start touching her in all the beautiful places right away.
In New Orleans we went directly to her apartment over the restaurant. Her bedroom also did not have an airco, but a long balcony with doors opening to it. A lazy ventilator was slowly making its turns near the ceiling. Standing in the middle of the room we embraced each other and kissed. At that moment however, I lead her by the hand to the chairs on the balcony. Sitting next to each other, with a bustling street under us, I spilled out all my secrets to her. I told her first about you and that I more or less wanted to get away from you. I told her about my leaving home and working in Delft and I told her that I was a transsexual.
She was speechless for some time then stood up. Leaning against the balcony railing she looked at me, as if she was seeing me for the first time. Shaking her head she stated that she could not believe it. But that made her wanting me even more. She drew me to her, embraced and kissed me. Then she took my hand and led me to the bed room, where she started to undress me. Before she lowered my panties he mustered me again and told me again that I was unbelievable. After I was naked she held me at arm's length and looked at me. The whole experience was so sensual that my dick stood erected. Again she said that she could not believe that such a feminine woman had a dick. After that she laid me on the big bed on my back, spread my arms and legs and began the act of lesbian love.
She covered me with kisses; my face, my neck and my breasts. My nipples were massaged and she nibbled on them with her teeth. She tongue fucked my navel and I started to feel as drifting above the bed. I felt my nipples get hard and I felt my cock get even harder than he already was. I felt precum dripping and wetting my inner legs. The kissing lips went further down, kissing my pubes without touching my dick and going down along my right leg. She nibbled on my toes for a while, sending tingling feeling through my body. After that her tongue and lips started the ascent along my left leg until they reached their destination at last. My dick was so stiff that I thought he might explode. When she started to kiss him it took only minutes before I ejaculated so strongly, that it was indeed like an explosion.
When I landed on the bed again I was exhausted, elated and crying for happiness. I was engulfed in a feeling that was completely new to me. I looked at the source of all this pleasure and smiled weakly at her. Rest my darling, she said but I have to tell you that the night is not over yet. Receiving is one joy but giving the other. Looking forward to the giving side of our love-making I instantly got turned on again. I felt my dick gathering up momentum almost immediately.
The giving was as indeed as beautiful as the receiving part. I tasted her lips and criss-crossed my tongue over her breasts. I licked up some of her sweat in the cleavage between her breasts. I nibbled on her nipples until they were hard as diamonds. Her navel felt as a little cunt and I duplicated the little fuck scene that she had me showed me before. Down it went along one leg and up the other, to her centre of lust and love. Circling my tongue along her lower lips I had a first taste of her juices and wanted more. I knew that I had to do more to get it. I got hold of her clit and caressed and licked and pulled and nibbled so long until I felt her body stiffen. Hearing her love cry, I got my reward. Fluids were oozing from her and I feasted on them. It was as if the love between us could be drunk and we got drunk on the fluids. We slept in each others arms until a bright and warm next day in the Big Easy.
Before we went top sleep however, Marge told me the parts of her story that I did not know yet. She told me about her love for Jenny, a woman some 10 years younger from the North that had been her lover until three months before. They parted when Jenny had found a girl younger then she. After a big scene and many tears on Marge's side, Jenny went with her new friend to New York. She also told me that she could never ever have imagined being with a man. For that treason she was reluctant to let me fuck her. She said that she saw me purely as a woman, a beautiful woman. A woman she loved. The little something between my legs was only a minor blemish in a perfect body.
During the succeeding time I was living in a dream. Everything was beautiful, everything was rosy. I liked my studies during the day and in the evening I helped with the drinks in the restaurant. Some of Marge's girlfriends openly tried to seduce me away from her. I went to many of the music venues that New Orleans offered. I learned to know the Cajun kitchen and the Creole kitchen at their roots. I even gave some new Ideas how to mix them with the Italian cuisine. Marge teased me with the assertion that she had put a Voodoo spell on me and gave me love potion every day. I was indeed feeling as under a spell.
If she meant her love juices by the potion, also that part of the assertion was true. We made love as much as we could. We behaved as teenagers in love as soon as we were together. She tore at my dress to give the passers by a glimpse of my panties. I returned the favour trying to do it better and show flashes of her panty-less bottom and pubes. We hired a boat to be able to make love outside in the bayous. We got into the same toilet for a quick stroking session. When we climbed chairs, we grasped between the legs of the one leading, even when other people were present. .
Eventually she also wanted to be fucked by me. The sex with her was a revelation. I never had fucked a woman before. When I had my first orgasm this way, my first thought was that God must have had this in mind, when he created man and woman. Making love in this way is much more a conflation of two bodies. I can understand that the copulation, what an impropriate word by the way, is called the love act.
I was convinced that this situation would last forever. I even proposed to her Matt. If she would have accepted, I would have annulated my official womanhood. She did not accept. Her simple explanation was that in that way she would officially be with a man. Still together with a small group of girl friends we celebrated our "official" engagement. New Orleans was never as beautiful as the in the months that followed. Even autumn with its duller weather was a time of joy.
I can understand now that you are unfaithful to me from time to time. I loved to go down on Marge. Oh, I still get a hard on, when I think of licking her pussy lips real long. I reveled in her reaction, when I moved up and started to suck her clit. Every time she almost lifted from the bed.
I hope you'll forgive me, but making love with her at that time was more satisfying than the sex we had. Probably it was just because it was new to me. The experience was so very intense that I remembered our love plays more and more just as dull. These feelings confused me more and more.
I talked to Marge about it and asked her whether I was not a woman in a man's body after all. She told me however that I should stop thinking such nonsense. She loved Toni, a gorgeous woman. She promised me that she would kick me out, when I dared to become more male. She was a lesbian and maybe I should start to think about surgery. I cried that evening because I felt she was rude by saying that. Still after I dried my tears, I understood that she was right. I only had asked it because I searched for a way to bind her to me. The best way to do that however would be to become a complete woman Realizing that, I started to think about surgery seriously for the first time.
During our discussion in the Gumbo Shoppe I was in the middle of these confusing feelings. That may have made me indeed more self centered. I think you were right that evening, when you said that I was not the happy go lucky girl any more that I was in Amsterdam. When I told you however that I wanted to be alone and saw how hurt you were, I was close to change my mind, give up New Orleans completely and accompany you to Los Angeles. But I could not walk out on Marge in that way. The only alternative was to walk out on you and that is what I did.
After that evening I was ready to continue my life together with Marge and see what came out of it. But fate had had different plans in store. Jenny, her old partner came back about half a year later. She was in tears after she was left by her younger lover. I witnessed the first meeting, as that took place in the restaurant. When I saw them together, I knew that our affair was doomed. In the beginning Marge told me that that was not true. She did not want to have Jenny back, after she had been hurt so much by her, but the reunion was inevitable.
Matt the time with Marge was very special for me. You have always treated me as a woman. I know you that even though about me that way, when we were separated. Marge made me a better woman. With her I learned to know what it really means to be a woman. Not a concubine for a man, but a free independent woman. Together we could take on the world. This feeling was especially strong, when I was together with her in the company of other people, men as well as women. I felt a level of sensual femininity that I never had known before. In her own way she also made me a more complete woman. Until today I am grateful to her for that, although our separation did hurt like hell.
After I lost her I did not know what to do with myself. My first impulse was run to you. My false pride won however. I did not want to give the impression to be creeping back so you. Not so soon after I walked out. Initially I tried to replace Marge by visiting gay clubs and flirting with the girls there. I had to find out however that Marge was an exception by accepting a transsexual. Most of the lesbian women, who were impressed with my looks, draw back when they found out what I was.
So I started to search out she-males in the gay clubs. Especially young ones, who were only beginning to realize what they were. But I actually made love only with a few of them. I was normally more interested in their stories. Although today, in New Orleans, things are a lot easier than 10 years ago in Delft, I saw a lot of myself in them.
Still after Marge I started to grab every possibility to have sex. Matt I had an insatiable hunger for sex in all its forms. When we were together sex was not our first priority, as it was sufficient to be together. I wanted the pressure of a star hole on my dick. I wanted to feel a dick in my back. As that was only possible with more than one person, I started to participate in gang bangs. New Orleans would not be New Orleans, when there would not be special clubs for that and I frequented them.
My next affair was with Bill a very handsome, gay man. It was a rather short but very intensive affair. I met him in one of the clubs. He was a slave there, hanging bound in a room, with arms and legs spread. Everybody could use him as they wanted. I used him several times and he asked me whether he could meet me also outside of the club. During our first meeting he asked me whether I wanted to become his master. Out of curiosity I agreed.
Being a master meant that I had to dominate him and punish him for wrong doings that were always there. The first punishing session took place in the "dungeon" of a friend. I bought a leather outfit with extreme high heels for the occasion. He asked to be fixed on a rack that was against one of the walls. He asked me to choose one of the long rods that were on a table and to administer10 strokes to him. At the first one he told me not to be a Sissy. It took five strokes to arrive at the force he wanted. That was the first stroke made with all the power that I could lay into it and the first of numerous blows that would follow. Deep wheals started to appear on his stomach, belly and upper legs. One of the blows hit his penis and he uttered a kind of yelping gasping cry.
After the tenth stroke he took his erected and swollen dick in his hand. After only a few jerks, he came with a jet of sperm that dirtied my boots. Crying and excusing himself, he crawled to me and licked my boots clean. Afterwards he showed me how to medicate his wounds. I liked this power over a good looking man and started to manhandle him rougher than necessary. The deeper the wheals and the louder his cries, the hornier I became.
I do not know what happened to me. I was aroused in a way, I had never been before. I could have killed him Matt and his last words would be to thank me. Several times, I was close to coming without having been touched. I had to admit to myself that I must have a sadistic streak in me. I started to treat him really as my slave. I got horny when he wore heavy weights attached to his balls and nipples. I used him as a toilet slave, opening his mouth to a gaping hole with a cruel mouth clamp. I urinated into his mouth and loved to see him choke on my piss. I kicked him in the ass, when he did not clean up the mess in the bathroom quick enough afterwards.
During his punishments I more and more sought to hit his dick and balls. I reveled on his yelping cries. When I whipped him in the normal way on belly and back, he was always asking for more. Hitting his genitals made him beg for mercy, which I preferred. I was ever more getting into being a merciless sadistic master. With time progressing I overdid it. After a real severe whipping on his dick and balls, I drew blood and he blacked out. I was not able to bring him back, so I had to call a doctor. After that Bill told me that although he loved the extreme way I treated him, he was afraid that I would kill him ultimately, if he stayed. A few days later he headed for San Francisco to stay with a new male friend. Shortly after that episode I met Runa.
She was a fellow student studying piano and she was good. She played the most beautiful piano you could think of. But she dressed and behaved as a punk with a shaved head and rings everywhere. She was also constantly high on whatever drugs she could lay her hands on. I was sure however that behind this facade was the real girl that her music portrayed.
We became friends one evening in my apartment. It was one of her rare sober days and she reluctantly told me the story of her life, which was terrifying. She was born in Chicago and grew up in a rather normal family. When she was fourteen she started to dress up as a girl on every possible occasion. She also started to fantasize about men. She experimented with penetrating her anus and already at that age she probably stretched her star hole permanently.
When she found out that boys and girls seeking kinky sexual adventures advertised in the public toilets of the city, offering their services to whoever wanted it, she got obsessed by it. She wrote her message also on a wall. The message had said that she would be in one of the cubicles at a given time, with the door unlocked. Every man that would open the door could use her as he pleased. She also stated that she was a little ass whore. Some time later when she was sitting in one of the cubicles , dressed up as a little schoolgirl, a man opened the door. That day she had her first experience with sucking and being fucked in a very brutal way and she loved it.
She went back at every possible occasion, giving the name toilet slave another dimension. She took part in the most unbelievable sex practices. Sucking and being fucked were only the innocent parts. The men started to pee on her. After that had lost its excitement, they pissed directly in her mouth. She was forced to drink it. After the piss, the shit followed, which she had to eat. They also loved to whip her. Especially when they found out that after a severe whipping her star hole was more or less shut, they stepped up the intensity. But no matter how hard they hit her, she still kept coming back for more. I asked her whether no by-standers ruined the party. She told me that their "lovers" were a changing group of men, who always put on "Out Of Order" signs before they started the fun. The unbelievable thing was, that when she was telling me it, I could she that she got a hard on. But even more frightening was my own erection.
Her life as a toilet whore ended, as some of her "lovers" kicked her around so much in the toilet that she landed in the hospital. She was not even seventeen. This meant that she had been used and beaten almost every day for the better part of three years. During her recovery, the hospital personnel found out about her other talents. She had found a piano in one of the community rooms and surprised every body that passed with classical music. She played all of it at a very high technical level and by heart.
After her healing, the family thought it a good idea to get her out of her usual environment. They sent her to New Orleans to study piano. She told me that none of her tormentors were never found nor convicted. Runa refused to tell anything to the police about their identity. She also refused to help, when some persons, who were suspected to have been part of the "lovers" were arrested. She told me that she could not do it. She has wanted it, needed it and really had loved every minute of it. In New Orleans however she had not returned to the toilets. For a time she loved her studies so much that it took all her time.
That night when she had left, I was in a terrible state of mind. During her story my first idea was that I had left out many exiting things with Bill. I should have gone with him to the toilets and let him be fucked. I never had crossed the line from piss to shit but if there were others who did not mind, I would love to watch. Realizing how far I would have gone, I told myself to get out, when there was still time. That night I was very close to calling you and ask you to come and take me to Los Angeles. Maybe that was my sixth sense about the things that would come. I did not call you in the end, because I was jealous of her.
Matt I envied her for those three years of unlimited sex in the most perverted ways I could think of. I fantasized that I would have gone to the public toilets in Delft or The Hague. What would have happened if I had found the courage to write an advertisement on a toilet wall? Anyway I stayed and got further involved with Runa.
As I told you before at the time we met she was into Gothic as well as into BDSM and she also had an animal spleen. She wanted to be my dog so I bought her a neck collar with her name on it and a leash. The next thing was a butt plug with a tail attached to it and in that attire she moved around the apartment on all fours, being punished for things done wrong or when I felt up to it and I started to use drugs just to see what effect it had on me.
We had sex all the time we were together and even touched each other in public. She loved to suck my dick but not to get me to an orgasm, no she lay in my lap the whole evening licking and sucking me. Sex for her was being taken in the back and that she needed it at least three times a day. You know that I always have my problems in the beginning when we have sex that way but she obviously did not have any problem with that. Her anus was so flexible that she could take in a penetration anytime anywhere. I even was able to fist her but I hated that, as I could not understand that that caused no pain. But I also had a kinky joy to punish her and as she liked piercing I nailed her dick several times to the dining table and let her standing there four hours. Her begging to release her only turned me on more. I released her only to whip her dick after she had pissed on the table.
I started to change my appearance with another wardrobe and gothic make up. I dyed my hair pitch black. I refused to have myself pierced because I was sure that you would not want me with rings everywhere. At that time you were still much on my mind, but that would change.
Of course I also showed her off at the life-style clubs. On one of our visits there I witnessed how she was gangbanged by almost all males in the club. This orgy was unbelievable to watch. She was surrounded by at least ten men, who fucked in pairs in her anus and mouth. Simultaneously she jerked two more men of. Looking at this scene I shamelessly jerked myself off on the spot.
When Runa disappeared I started a search for her, which in the beginning seemed to be fruitless. After a week of ever emerging deeper into the under-world of the city, I got the information that she had been seen as a dancer in a sex joint. I found her there and spent an evening at that place. It was a club in which all perversions could be bought and practiced on the spot, mostly in the open. This was not a life-style club, in which handsome people experimented. This was a place in which animalistic sex urges were lived up to the hilt. I more or less fled in the end.
It was clear that Runa had crossed over and had become a whore. I did not know what to do and even went to the police asking them whether they could help. They told me that as the girl was over eighteen they could not do much. I should contact her parents and try to have them do something from their end. That would take long and was uncertain in the end. I got into contact with the owner of the club and told him that I was the master of Runa and that I wanted to have her back. He laughed in my face. Upon my insistence he proposed that I could work for the release. I told him that I did not want to become a whore but that we could make a master and dog show for his guests. The dog would be for hire after the shows. In that way he would probably get more money than using us both as plain prostitutes. He agreed.
In the beginning we were featured as a kind of freak show. After the shows I was normally able to watch when Runa was fucked and sometimes beaten. When we were alone afterwards, I was always so aroused that we had wild sex. You may wonder about this as I had fled on the first night. Now I saw that Runa really seemed to like the abuse and that rape was her favorite kind of sex. At first I did not understanding why a girl would like to be raped. The more I saw it happen however the more I got used to it, right until I started to see it as the archetype of sex. The woman is hunted down and taken whether she want it or not. I slowly started to consider trying it out. Before I could realize that however, the club was raided by the police, getting me a record as a prostitute. It was after that raid that I learned about the connection to the infamous Horace. After I got to know that, I wanted out but it was too late though. We were whisked away to his club in the bayous.
The first weeks in that place at least, I was conditioned to the life that would be waiting for me. And that conditioning took place by forcing drugs on me. I was already taking grass and crack regularly and occasionally cocaine. When I saw the needle with opium though, I panicked. I fought the first shots and I had to be knocked unconscious. After I woke up I was in a dream world that was filled with sex. I was fucked by guests as well as attendants. This was the kind of sex that I had envied Runa for. Here I was used without afterthought as many times as they found it necessary and as roughly as they though necessary. This was no giving and receiving, this was only brutal taking from one part and complete obedience from the other part.
That obedience was not only reached by drugging us, there were also other means to secure it. One was the totem pole that was standing in the middle of the lawn in front of the house. Almost every day one of the girls was punished there. The punishment was given for bad behavior which could be anything. Spoiling liquor could be enough even an untidy room or an unmade bed could be one. Other reasons were bad behavior towards a customer or refusing him.
Sometimes when nobody had been misbehaving they took two girls at random tot fight for it. I can tell you hat you did fight when chosen, because the punishment put you out of everything for at least 24 hours. Horace himself always administered the first part. He was a very big Negro. As a matter of fact he was even handsome. Big as he was he had a monster cock of which everybody was afraid. Tied to the pole you got that inside your anus. Mostly he did not fuck, but he almost always drew blood anyway. Then came the horse or better said the wooden pony on which the girl was lowered. All sharp borders on that one were still there. The girls were condemned to stay there for twenty minutes with us looking. Probably one of the reasons we came mostly away with punishments because the pony was not as grueling to us as to the real girls.
When the edge of the wood, which was even coated with metal, bit itself ever deeper into the soft flesh of the victim, she got weights on her feet. Mostly this created the first visible blood. The moment that appeared, somebody yelled not to dirty the pony and started to whip her. When the twenty minutes were over the girl was taken of the horse and left laying on the lawn as a warning to the others. As if we needed such a warning. The rest of the day and a part of the following day the victim needed to recuperate.
After some time the intervals between the opium shots became longer and I could think straighter. I went to the attendants. I tried to convince them that I was no whore and they should let me go. I was laughed at of course. One of them said that some hours ago he had another impression of me. After I gave myself willingly to him, I went up with a paying guest. He told me that I might not have been a whore when I came but that I certainly was one now. Of course I was not giving up. On one of the following days I told my story to Horace. He listened with a wicked smile on his face. Afterwards he told me that to avoid me blabbering to customers in that way, I would be punished the next morning.
The next day I learned to know the Totem Pole better. Tied, Horace entered me and when he noticed no blood he fucked me all the way. I did not bleed but I can tell you that it ached like hell. As they saw that the horse was not real punishment for me, I was flogged. Two men with short horse whips chased me all over the lawn. I might have jumped into the water surrounding the Mansion. Only my fear for possible alligators withheld me from that. Now I got to know what I had done to Bill, as many blows hit my dick. The welts on my body were so deep that I needed three days for them to get better a little bit. Afterwards they were still visible for more than a week. I had learned my lesson and never tried to talk to anybody again.
When I was back to normal again I made a balance of my situation. What had started as an attempt to save Runa for herself had made me into a whore. I was devastated and started to make plans to flee. The more I saw of the place however the more I became convinced that escape would be almost impossible. Runa was also no help as she was pleased that I was there. She quite loved the rude treatment by her lovers and afterwards, she loved to sleep in my lap.
In the beginning my anus did hurt all day long from one to three forceful penetrations per evening. After some time there was only the little stab of pain when a big dick passed my star hole. After two weeks we were told that we could continue with our master and pet show. I noticed that the customers, who participated in our act, were not the usual bordello visitors. They probably were highly regarded citizens with kinky tastes, who paid real well for their pleasures. Many of them were submissive. This meant that Runa and I could have our way with them and were not as frequently molested as the other girls in the club.
After the first month the situation became weird Matt. In the moments I could think clear I still knew that I had a mission. I was there to free Runa. On the other hand however, I think I started to like my life. I was in an all female surroundings and accepted as one of them. All my life I had to show the world a fake personality. Even in Amsterdam nobody but a few people knew what I really was. Now everybody knew and did not give a damn. Better even, I was part of that big family.
In a way I now lived an easy life, I was also taken care of all day. I was fed and believe it or not they had excellent food. The cook was an old Negro woman, who we called Mama Sue. Together with her husband called Uncle Tom they did work and errands around the house. She was an exceptional cook and made the most wonderful Creole and Cajun dishes. Mostly we ate them with Hurricanes or other cocktails. Alcohol was always there in masses. This woman was also helping with the laundry and even was a good hairdresser.
When they found out that I was also good at doing hair. I was "promoted" as the hair stylist. In that way I learned to know the other girls better. Most of them were in a similar situation as I. They accepted the situation because next to the food they got their "dream makers", as the heroin was called amongst us. On top of that most of them did not mind the lovers that were chosen for them in the evening. All of them liked sex and I am sorry to say so but I was not excluded.
So while I settled in into the procedure of bordello life. The saving of Runa was steadily further postponed. That could be done tomorrow or next week or somewhere in the future. Of course all "lovers" were not welcomed, but the whole concept of meeting at least five different sex partners in a week was exiting. Matt, forgive me for the confessions. I was beginning to accept the situation and even started to make the best of it. You may remember that you kind of raped me after our nights out as three sisters in Amsterdam. At that time I liked the brutal sex as a variation of our sex live. Now I was taken like that every day and as I had no work to go to on the next morning I started to to like it in a way.
I do not know whether the drugs made me accept it or my secret envy of Runa and her unconditional sex slavery. During the last months I came to the conclusion that the second reason was the more important one. If that is true, it frightens me in an unspeakable way because I do not understand it.
After some months I fell in love with a customer. He was a giant of a white man. I named him Mr. Big after our first meeting. He must have been over 2 meters. He had no body hair whatsoever and also his head was shaved. One evening I saw him come in and ask for the she-males. They first presented Runa to him but he waved her away. Upon seeing me I could see his eyes lighting up and I was hired.
About ten days after my first encounter with him I was taken to the city. With two men guarding me I was told to shop. When I started to look for Gothic clothes they told me to buy lady like clothes. They spared no expenses and I was able to buy me a complete wardrobe with provocative underwear and sexy dresses. At the end of the afternoon I was brought to a hair stylist who changed my hair from Gothic to a more normal style. The next day I was told to wait in the big hall and when I saw Mr. Big I knew the reason for the shopping trip. When he saw me he hesitated. He was maybe unsure who I was. After a moment though, he took me in his arms and kissed me as a real lover.
From then on he hired me once every fortnight for an evening and he hired me alone. The encounters did not take place in our dungeon but in one of the rooms of the mansion. He always treated me as a real lover. When I was fetched from the dungeon room I had to change clothes and wait for him in the hall. Upon his arrival, we usually drank something at the bar together, before going up to the room. He was so big that I had problems to take him in my mouth initially. With him I really learned to know what deep throating meant. Also my star hole reacted with more pain than usual every time when he penetrated me and he did that multiple times every evening we were together.
Still it was not a brutal invasion. He always took his time in the beginning to avoid pain as much as possible. Like I said before, I fell in love with him, looking forward to his visits and happy to be with him.
I guess he was somebody important because he had that aura of aristocracy around him. He reminded me much of Eric. Maybe he was an ex football or basket ball player. Although it was difficult to judge his age, I was sure that at that time he was not an active sports man. He refused however to talk in any way about his private life although I tried to ask him.
During detox I asked my therapist about it and why I felt that I was in love with that man. I was told that many prostitutes have customers that cause that kind of reaction. Although the feelings are definitively real and genuine they are born out of a situation in which love normally has absolutely no place
I experienced his visits as only sporadically. The rest of the time was spent was in a kind of dreamlike state. Matt I did everything my masters wanted and mostly I did it even with a smile. I liked to being fucked and I liked to play the games with submissive customers. I also looked forward to the even more dreamlike state I would be in together with Runa after I would have gotten my shots.
I don't know how long I was there but suddenly you were there but idiot that I was I still thought I was on top of the situation and you were not needed. I really hit you, didn't I? When we made the blow job I came rather quickly as I was really turned on by the fact that you were in my power that evening. Strangely enough at that moment I wanted you to be around but only for me to humiliate you. Can you forgive me for that?"
Shortly after your visit I got my second treatment at the totem pole. For one reason or another I shaved off my hair. Maybe it should be a sign of solidarity with Runa. I might also have thought it to be a love sign to Mr. Big. Anyway the masters did not like it. Strangely enough Horace did not fuck me but he was one of the whip men. The beating was much worse than the first one. The last thing I saw before I passed away was that my balls and dick were bleeding terribly after numerous direct hits. Afterwards Runa told me that I was unconscious for such a long time that they called a doctor. She said that the doctor checked me and took care of my wounds. When I showed signs of waking up he gave me an injection and said that that would leave me sleeping for 2 more days.
On his next visit Mr. Big was taken aback by my bald head. When he started to say something to the attendants I hushed him into silence and took him to my room. I told him what had happened. I asked him not say anything to the masters because they would beat me again. I do not know whether he took my advice or not. Anyway I was not beaten again.
The time between our first meeting and your second trip to New Orleans is hazy. It's all a whirlwind of constant sex and drugs alternated with walks in New Orleans. Alone or with Runa but always in outfits that got heads turned. What I remember is that we were also for rent to private parties alone or together. I have seen several big mansions in New Orleans and its surroundings. These parties knew no rules and from raping to spanking to whipping all the professional sex excesses were practiced. I participated voluntarily Matt as it was a welcome diversion from the routines of the mansion. At that time I lost all scruples, they even had to send us back to our room to cover our dicks before we went on the streets. At the private parties we made our entry always with bared dicks.
Although there were multiple penetrations and sometimes severe spanking involved at the parties I felt strangely appreciated. There were people who asked for me, the freak girl with a dick. All the generic girls in the mansion were even jealous of my lover, Mr. Big. Matt I do not know how it would have ended if it had ended differently. I felt that I had no possibility to leave there, but the impossibility was not real but only existing in my mind. I know now that the end would probably have been an overdoses or being killed by someone for what reason whatsoever. But I felt at ease. I did not miss you and that frightens me tremendously. Please Matt promise me to punish me, lock me up and yes even kill me when I ever show only the slightest signs of wanting to go back.
The last day in the club started as all others had done. We were woken up at nine o'clock to get our shot and after that had taken effect we were rounded up for our daily session at the totem pole. That day Millie, anew Asian addition to our group, was punished. It was her first session at the pole. I still hear her screams when they fixed the weights on her feet while riding the pony. When they were through with her, they had to carry her to her room. I know that she did not come out alive as she was probably still half unconscious when the raid started.
The rest of the day was a normal whore house day. Something was in the air because nobody was allowed a walk in the town, so we busied ourselves with doing our hair, shaving in our case and washing and ironing clothes and getting ready for the evening. As we normally ate the warm meal at lunch time the evening meals were mostly hamburgers. When the evening started that day, it took some time for us to be chosen. This was probably the second lucky streak. The man that took us later that evening was a regular customer. We knew that the evening would be without surprises. We were terribly wrong.
When we were in the middle of our act, as we called it we heard yelling from the outside and some noises that sounded like shots. We also smelled smoke before we saw any fire. The customer was up on his feet at the first commotion and got out of our "dungeon" and we looked around for a hiding place to wait this brawl out, at that moment we thought it was only a brawl. I knew that behind the room there was another smaller one that was used for storage and occasionally for observation and although the door was supposedly hidden I knew how to get in.
In our hiding place we heard screams and yells and the sound of heavy objects hitting flesh and we both knew that this was no brawl and then there were some in the next room. Two guys one if them was one of the regular aids of the mansion who must have been the insider on this job. His unknown partner turned around saying that the room was empty but this big negro knew where we were and cam straight for us. He kicked the door open with his boots and saw me; Runa was hiding behind the door. Opening the door however he had created an air stream because there was a window in the room and that transported a streak of flames into the room igniting his shirt.
I got hope because I though he would flee but he didn't. He came to me saying he now would get his revenge on this arrogant high nosed cock witch. Before he however could make his first step Runa ran passed him to get to me and when she was in front of him on the last pass he hit her with his baseball bat and Matt I saw her blood and other substances burst out and patting on the wall. I knew instantly that Runa was dead but it had taken costly seconds. He continued to come to me and the first at the first blow I could raise my arms having one broken, the next came lower and I tried to fend it off with my legs to get one broken. The third one did not arrive full force but hit me square on my body creating the injuries you know.
The there was a knife in his hand and he said, that my self defense would not help; he would first take my witch cock and when I was still alive and afterward he would beat me to death. Saying that I saw flames as a halo around his head and some voice yelled at him to come out because he was on fire. I knew that it would end there and then because I had seen the devil, Lucifer himself and did not budge. While I tried to roll away from him I felt a terrible pain in my cock. On that moment he must have noticed that he indeed was on fire and turned to flee.
Crawling for the door as I was unable to stand I kissed Runa for the last time and made my slow way through the house and the flames. I was low on the floor basically beneath the flames but it was so hot Matt, hot as in hell I thought that everything was vain because I was already dead. Still I kept going on until I broke down on the before the front door. My last impression was a giant figure over me and my last thought was that I was lucky not to feel the blow that would inevitably come.
The next thing I consciously know was you standing in front of my bed. Now I cannot explain why I did the things I did. In the hospital I could see that all of you assumed that I had been kid napped and forced into prostitution. That everything had happened against my will and I left it at that. Alone in detox when the worst was over I started to think about everything. I confess that I am scared like hell. The time in New Orleans frightens me. But not because what others did to me but I am afraid of myself Matt. I had to tell you all of this because I need somebody to help me. Help me to find back to the Toni I used to be.
I still dream about it the endless evenings with sex in all forms, about black men taking me ruthlessly and the sex orgies with many lovers at once. I have sweet dreams of domination. Yes, sweet dreams, when I dream about my friend Bill and my domination of Runa. Every time I wake up after those dreams I have a hard on. Sometimes I even find my bed wetted, as I ejaculated in my sleep. It makes me wonder whether someday I will want to return to such a life. You have to take very good care of me Matt, because I love you and I know that going back there would hurt you without end.
I would understand that you turn away from me. When you say I am not the girl anymore that you loved. I will accept that because I have no answers. But I want you to know that I have always loved from the first day we met".
We were quiet for a long time and all the time I held her as tightly as I could. I had tears in my eyes. I was shocked after her vivid and detailed story about her time with Marge. It must have been real love and I must have been very close to losing her. But, now after the whole story, I was speechless. Did all of this mean that I really had already lost her in New Orleans? Did I have to thank a bunch of thugs, starting a gang war, for bringing her back to me? I was shocked at the realization that my Toni had lived as a whore. Could it be that she liked it? My plan to talk about the future was stalled. I understood that first of all I had to work out the past.
To be continued. Your comments are eagerly awaited at: mailtomatt@ymail.com