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Collected by Djian

Another story by she-cries

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Goth's Not Slut (my day at the beach)
By: she-cries (she-cries@hotmail.com)
M+F mmmF nc/rape/humil/exhib/?inter-ws?

Part 5 of 5 (Epilogue)

I sat on the beach soaking wet, but wrapped tightly in the body glove
like it was armor. It clung to my body like a thick skin, but it's
density and tight fit pressed into my body, making me feel more like I
was heavily shielded than exposing my curves to the world. It was black
with blue swatches sewn in at dramatic angles, and zipped tightly up the
back.
I had been a failure at boogie boarding. Nothing I could do would keep
me on top of a wave for more than a couple seconds, then the wave would
pass me by and I would be left to kick back out to where I had started
and try again. I had finally given up, coming to the shore to hang out
with Evan and Arnold while Mickey persevered. I didn't mind, since my
mind wasn't really into the whole idea of having fun on the beach so
much as recuperating in a nice hot bath. Maybe a little hot tea and
professional therapy.
But I was so scared of the consequences and humiliation, even of having
what little Evan knew of my trials that day, that I went along with the
guys, trying to be a sport. Evan seemed to be very nervous and
uncomfortable, but I guess he was as scared as I was that Mickey would
suspect something was up. He did a good job of keeping his distance. I
was, however, more aware than ever of Arnold's leering glares.
He was still only eighteen but he and Mickey were fast friends from high
school, which Arnold still hadn't graduated from. He was average
height, average build, average everything I guess. He refused to take
off his T-shirt or to get in the water, I knew from Mickey it was
because he had back pimples, and he insisted on trying to grow a
mustache, though I couldn't imagine why since he had only sparse growth
that made him look dirty, and even a little greasy. He wasn't goth,
like me and Mickey, but wore jeans and T-shirts like most guys, only his
were always heavy metal bands. His hair was about shoulder length, and
usually looked unwashed and uncombed.
In short, I thought he was a total nerd. Not that I'm one to make
judgements like that being a freak, but after two years freedom of the
domination of high school I had become very picky about who I did and
didn't hang out with. Guys who leered at me like junior high school
students or construction workers didn't fall into my usual company, but
I loved Mickey, and usually could tolerate such treatment.
Of course, today was a different story. Mickey and I had just come out
of the water. He was ready to go back for more, but I was done. Evan
had clamored up wanting to try, but with the freezing Pacific ocean
there was no way he could go unless he had a body suit. Mickey only had
brought two. I had tried to let them let me go up the beach and to the
car to retrieve my dress, but Evan let it slip that I had a bathing suit
under the body glove, and I was stuck. I had tried to tell them that it
was indecent but they all laughed that off, chalking it up to my usual
inhibition about showing skin. Then Mickey had run off, saying he was
going to try some better waves he had heard about down the beach.
Left alone with Evan who already knew me intimately, and Arnold who
lusted after me, I reluctantly reached back, and grabbing the zipper I
undid the suit and started to pull it off of me, but in its wetness it
was terribly difficult. I looked over at Evan, who waited smiling
maliciously. He had prodded me in front of Mickey encouraging everyone
to believe that I was just being overly modest, and I was. I knew
that. But they didn't know the full extent as to why I was so scared to
pull down the suit. They didn't have any desire to respect my body.
Mickey was only interested in having fun, Evan wanted to make me cringe,
and Arnold wanted to see me exposed, as Evan had finally.
At least I was in a very public place. I may have felt indecent, but a
lot of people dressed like I would be, and certainly no one would try to
rape me.
Besides, I figured I would just get out of the suit and run up to the
car parked on the cliff behind us where the road ran. Looking up and
down the beach there were a couple dozen people. A lot of guys and a
few girls, either sunbathing, playing Frisbee, or playing in the waves.
Most of them were in swimsuits despite the cool breeze. Sitting in the
sun did a lot to push off any chill that might come up.
I guess Evan lost patience with my procrastination because he walked up
and started helping me undress. He started by pulling on the collar.
"C'mon I want to catch up with Mickey." And with another of his
diabolical grins he roughly tugged at the suit, pulling it down over me
breasts which sprang free from the confines like flowers from a
magicians sleeve. I saw Arnold sit up, craning his neck to see more. I
snapped a glare at him, but he only smiled back at me while I let Evan
strip me completely, taking no compunction not to touch me or squeeze me
wherever the need arose. At one point he dug his hands into the suit,
one hand firmly over each cheek. Looking again at Arnold I saw him
raising an eyebrow to the tolerance with which I let Evan touch me.
When Evan used his leverage to pull the suit down over my hips Arnold
raised both eyebrows, his mouth parting slightly as Evan revealed to him
the whole of my exposed ample buttocks, firm, pale white, with and
adolescent hand planted firmly on each half. Only the thin black strip
of cloth that bunched up in a wad on its way up my spine prevented me
from revealing to the world what I had already revealed to, and shared
with, so many.
Lifting up my feet so Evan could pull the suit off completely I saw
Arnold's eyes riveted to my crotch area, barely covered by the thin
swatch of fabric.
Pulling the suit free Evan hefted it and the body board up under his
arms and ran off after Mickey. He was so young. A grown woman reduced
to serving his every pleasure and he was more interested in boogie
boarding. I heard a whistle, and then someone call out. Looking around
me I realized that I had caught the attention of a few guys who had been
boogie boarding as well, but were now resting on the beach in their
tight body suits. They watched, smiling at me while I stood there
feeling exposed and unprotected again. I moved over to Arnold and sat
down next to him, hoping that his presence would keep any men from
wandering over.
Not that his presence was welcome, just his affiliation with my brother
felt safer than standing alone in that skimpy suit would have.
Arnold scooted over a bit, positioning himself so he would be facing me
slightly. "You look nice." He said, but I already knew what he
thought. He hadn't even looked up from my juggling boobs only half
covered to tell me. He went on, "You should dress down more often."
I glared at him, frowning.
"I didn't mean it like that." He said, laughing out loud. "I just meant
that you're always so embarrassed to show any skin." His eyes were
peering under my bent knees pulled tightly together to look at the
crotch of the suit half buried in the sand which spread around my cheeks
with a warm scratchy embrace. He looked up smiling, "I mean other girls
do it."
I snapped back, "Why is it okay? Why should I have to show my body to
any man who wants to look just because other girls do it?"
He used the opportunity to look me over. I could see him shift his
position, trying to hide his growing erection. Jesus Christ, even
without touching me I was again being used as a sex object. He leaned
forward, and reaching a finger out in a pointing gesture leveled it at
one of my breasts.
"You've got a tear." He said. I looked down, just in time to see the
suit ripping where my breasts pushed out the most. Right where, to my
horror, my erect nipple was sticking out, its half inch protruding. His
finger didn't stop though. Maybe he thought that Evans groping meant
that I was a lot more liberal about physical contact than I had led him
to believe, or maybe he was so taken aback by my partial nudity that he
lost sense of our boundaries. Either way his finger stuck in and hooked
the torn portion. I could feel the threads ripping further as his
knuckle ground into my nipple, swollen from the cold water.
I sat there, my legs spread around him as I had shifted position to look
at myself while his single warm finger sent tingling waves of heat into
my cold nipple, knots into my tummy, and a familiar buzzing glow into my
groin.
"Don't!" I barked at him.
He looked up at my face, pale and nervous. He yanked his finger out,
another rapid fire thumping as thread ripped further and snatched his
hand away. We both stared at each other in shock at what he had done.
I was infuriated at the sensation he had caused me, inadvertently
triggering my learned instincts to become aroused and paralyzed when
embarrassed. I was also concerned that he had noticed how long it had
taken me to make him move his finger. What if it occurred to him to
stick it somewhere else?
"I-I'm sorry..." he began to say, then burst out laughing. I looked at
myself again, and his finger had caused the tear to be much larger. The
whole of my aureoles was revealed now, and I do not have small nipples.
The tightness of the suit caused it to jut out, almost comically. If
Arnold had ever wondered what my nipples were like, and I was sure he
had, he now knew.
I covered it with one hand, "Give me your shirt!" I snapped.
But he shook his head. "In this sun I'd get heatstroke and fry in five
minutes."
I grimaced at the lie and the laughing man in front of me, his gaze
wandering freely over my body again, "I just need it to get to the
car." Arnold was staring at my crotch again. I knew that it showed a
lot, but the seam which ran right down the middle to accommodate the
pink swatch was also straining. I could see my pale white skin through
the threads. I became terrified that I would burst right out of the
suit at any moment.
But I also knew that was ludicrous. The suit would have torn up inside
the body glove. I had only to get to the car so I could cover myself up
and end this nightmare once and for all.
Arnold placed his hand on my thigh, again exhibiting the boldness that
must have come from watching Evan undress me. I started to grab his
hand, but when he pulled my leg so it was further spread from the other
one I froze, my hand holding his, and looked at what he was seeing.
The joining of the crotch, a short seam only a couple inches long had
split entirely. It was only help in place by two thick threads that had
made up the almost invisible hem of the suits legs. Arnold shifted his
hand further up my thigh and leaned in for a closer look at my bald,
smooth labia spreading under the pressure of my position and the tight
suit. The pink meat of my inner lips was sticking out. I was, of
course, glistening with moisture. Most of it was from the sea, but
neither I nor Arnold could avoid the unmistakable scent of a woman. His
hand was only a few inches from my exposed sex. He was using my
predicament to cop a few cheap feels, not to mention to have license to
gawk with impunity.
It was only his lack of overtness that kept me from exploding in his
face. Overall he remained no more obvious than a casual boyfriend might
be with his girlfriend. Most people were too far away to notice what
were actually small tears in my suit and I realized that if I made a
scene I would not only be half naked, but I would reveal the other half
in the act.
Catching another strong whiff of myself I hoped that Arnold would assume
that my scent was only the normal odor of a woman, rather than the
lubricating emissions of a woman's overused vagina.
"Arnold," I murmured quietly at him, leaning over to speak into his ear,
"Please move your hand."
But his finger was on the prowl again, this time over the edge of the
suit where it ran down my tummy into my exposed sex. "I'm just checking
for more tears." He said, as if he was doing me a favor as he ran his
fingers under the fabric, just a few inches above my exposed lips. I
wanted to sit down on them, to hide them from his studious gaze, but the
thought of grinding my sex into the sand sounded horribly painful.
"Arnold this isn't helping." I said. His finger ran up and down sending
shivers through me, each touch pinching a nervous knot in my stomach
which I sucked in with all my might to lessen the intensity. This
served only to pull my hips up higher, and I watched, gasping and
panting as he went lower and lower.
"Arnold please, this isn't the place for this?" He looked up suddenly,
watching me pant. He looked at my flushed chest, my erect nipples
sticking up, even the one that wasn't exposed was plainly visible. He
looked down again at my glistening labia, my hips swishing around in the
sand as he moved his finger.
I looked at the pole in his shorts and knew what he was thinking. He
was thinking that he had somehow magically gotten me so turned on that I
was heaving and panting from pleasure, not the terror of being exposed
in front of dozens of people. Certainly not the discomfort of having my
fiancé's best friend taking advantage of me while I was scared and
wouldn't be able to scream, or smack him.
He was still groping me with his fingers as he scooted around and put
his arm around me, his hand falling to rest on my utterly bare hipbone.
"It's okay," he said "When Evan gets back we'll get you into the suit
quickly. Until then, if anyone comes by, I'll cover you up."
I didn't know whether he thought he was being comforting or if he was
now thinking that I would enjoy the chance for a little fooling around.
Maybe he thought in his ignorant male way that he was getting me off,
and thus keeping my mind off my situation.
As if to illustrate, one of the boys who had whistled at me was walking
in our direction. Arnold grabbed my breast with his free hand, and to
my shock and sheer terror, plunged the other between my legs. His warm
hand a defacto patch for my exposed lips. I felt his dry touch sliding
against my ever more moist lips as the boy walked past. He watched with
some amazement at me as I sat there submitting to Arnold's crude
groping. I realized I was staring, and turned away to find Arnold's
face right next to mine, his wiry whiskers tickling my lips and nose.
"Is this really necessary?" I demanded.
"Well did you want him to see you?" he replied, his fingers now
squeezing at my nipples, his other hand stroking me very softly.
"You've been waiting for a chance like this for a long time haven't
you?"
He looked at me as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie
jar, then regaining his composure resumed his stroking, "Well how else
would you explain to them why my hand is where it is?" I could feel one
finger probing further than I thought he would have dared, even at this
point.
My mouth fell open, but I realized again that he was just making it up
as he went along.
Another person, this one an older man with his wife and daughter were
heading straight towards us. It would only be a few seconds, so rather
than try to sort it out with Arnold I found myself kissing him, hoping
he had seen the couple as well.
My only hope was that they would not notice the state I was in, or
Arnold's odd hand placement and that they would find a place far away
from us young "lovers."
I wrapped my closer arm over his waist, leaning into him as he continued
to squeeze and now poke at me, his uncut nails stabbing painfully into
my tender skin. He kissed me bag with growing passion, his hand tucking
itself under my suit to explore my breast further, I could hear the
tearing. I opened my eyes, hoping that the couple were gone, but they
were only a few yards closer to us. The stabbing in my crotch was
getting painful as Arnold moved his hungry fingers around, but I could
find no means to stop him just yet.
"A little higher," I whispered as we kissed. Arnold didn't need
directions, he had just needed permission, and he wasted no time
plunging one, then two, then three of his fingers into me, making me
gasp. Struggling hard not to cry out I kissed Arnold with growing
ferocity, biting his lips, my hand strayed to his cock and I grabbed it,
squeezing it with all my force but he only moaned, and responded by
pushing harder and harder into my dripping hole. The pain was intense,
it was growing worse than the scratching had been. I pulled my mouth
away and looked up, shoving his hand out of me with a great sigh of
relief. Looking around I saw the family moving away down the beach, the
man looking over his shoulder at me with distaste. Looking around us I
saw a lot of people with similar expressions. What had meant to be an
act of concealment had made exhibitionists out of both of us.
Of course he was still dressed, and I was wearing tattered rags. He
probably didn't mind the mishap a bit. It was that whole slut-stud
double standard by which men who sleep around are lauded and praised,
but women who do are defiled and vilified.
The tear over my nipple ran down the length of my suit, ending right
above Arnold's hand which hovered "protectively close to my exposed sex,
now wholly so as Arnold's eager probing had ripped the last two shreds
of dignity I had left. His other hand still cradled my breast, though
it seemed to have lost all pretense of coverage.
I squeezed Arnold's penis, it's long and thick shaft surprising me with
its bulk, "Arnold do you like what I'm doing to you?"
He said 'yeah,' and leaned back into me, trying to kiss me again, his
hand going back to caress my womanhood. I put my free hand up in front
of his mouth, letting his stoke and grope me. The shape of his penis
made me wonder momentarily what he tasted like.
I moved my hand down a little until I had a testicle. Arnold gasped.
"Arnold." I said.
"Yes." He groaned.
"If you don't give me your shirt I'm taking this instead.

He followed me up the hill, apologizing profusely, saying it was all a
misunderstanding, that he hadn't seen any family of three, and begging
me not to tell Mickey. He was right behind me the whole way, a few
steps lower on the rocky trail up to the car park. I knew he had a ripe
view of my loins the whole way up in spite of the low hanging T-shirt,
but I didn't care much.
It really didn't matter.
I remember thinking at that point that it would be better to just get it
over with and to show the whole world. Looking down the hill to the
people frolicking on the beach I wondered about Mickey, and if I would
ever willingly let a man have sex with me again. I knew right then that
my situation with Evan was moot. I would have to leave Mickey.
I stared out at the ocean for a long time trying to discern his body
from the innumerable bodies in the water, but shortly gave up.
Reaching the car I extracted the key Mickey keeps hidden under a fender
and opened the back door. Inside the car was a bag with, wonder of
wonders a fresh change of clothes. I turned to Arnold, scanning the
area as I did it. There were some sightseers, light traffic, and a lot
of people below us on the beach.
I tore off the T-shirt, throwing it at Arnold. He frantically pulled it
on, his reddening chest proving that his assertion earlier had been no
lie. He was extremely sensitive to the sun. I had one breast hanging
out, the torn crotch meant that the suit hardly came down to my navel,
and with one brutal yank I tore at the suit, peeling it away from my
body as Arnold stared in wonder and amazement. The sleeves were holding
out against my best efforts, and still looking at Arnold I said, "What
are you doing just standing there?"
He snapped from his reverie, grabbed a shoulder strap and yanked hard,
pulling on my but succeeding in ripping the last shreds of the suit from
my body.
Totally naked in public once again I climbed into the car. I laid out
on my back and lifted up one leg exposing some space on the seat.
Looking back up at Arnold who stood still holding the remains of my
swimsuit dumbfounded I repeated myself, "What are you waiting for."
Arnold took a moment, looked around us, but deciding it was worth the
risk pushed his baggy shorts down enough to expose his penis and climbed
inside the car.
He lasted only minutes, but his eager thrusting filled me up utterly,
spreading me wide, forcing me to arch and buck to accommodate his girth
and length. Pumping his semen inside me he cried out my name, telling
me how much he'd always wanted me, telling me that to him I was the only
woman in the world. That I was the only woman he'd ever loved.
Some tiny, very small part of me was glad that I'd gotten to give this
to him since I told myself then that it would be the last time a man
ever had sex with me.
I gave him a few minutes then made him get off of me and stand watch as
I got dressed, this time thankfully in a pair of slacks.
Mickey and Evan took a long time in returning, but I refused to leave
the car. Arnold didn't mind waiting, and my curiosity getting the
better of me, I discovered that he too had a slightly sweet flavor, with
almost no trace of the smell of bleach.
He didn't try making any more passes at me, and oddly enough I realized
that he wasn't staring at my breasts when he looked at me, but deeply
into my eyes.
Poor sap.

In the months that followed he came over to my apartment a lot. He had
stopped spending time with Mickey after I broke it off with him, and
started dressing in black, presumably to impress me. I would usually
take the time to give him a blow job, sometimes I'd even let him undress
me and run his hands over me, fingering me to an orgasm as I bucked and
gasped.
But I never let him sleep with me.
He sported the money for my abortion, thinking that it was his fault.
Who knows, it might have been his, but I appreciated the gesture all the
same. We never got too close. He wanted to be closer, but I would
always stop him when the conversation strayed into territory I was
uncomfortable with. Usually by going down on him or stripping myself.
Sometimes when he persisted I would finger myself until he took over,
letting him make the world go away in the wake of a violent orgasm or a
mouthful of jizz.
When things got too rough, and Arnold wasn't around I would drive over
to Mickey's parent's house, knock on Evan's window, and get my escape
from him. I taught him everything about loving a woman, giving him a
lot of what I wouldn't give to Arnold. But Evan had a world of his own,
and though he always wanted my body, and he always took it -sometimes
making me call in sick for him at school, or play his big sister to get
him out of classes- but he rebuffed me just as often, never wanting to
spend time after he had cum.
I even gave him my sex, letting him use me as he wanted to, putting his
semen inside me. But as before he would lose interest when he came. He
lost interest in making me cum and sometimes would rebuff me
completely. There were times, when his parents were asleep and we had
just made love in his bedroom at home, he would throw me out naked,
leaving me to get dressed in the cold night. Once I had left my dress
inside, and had to drive home naked. Getting home to find a late night
party going on. Climbing in through my bedroom window to find a couple
having sex in my bed. One day I went to Evan's school wearing only
shoes and a dress. A button down number that went to mid thigh, showing
a lot of chest and shoulder. I went pretending that I had to bring Evan
some books that he had forgotten and called for, but arrived at lunch
when no one noticed. Well, a lot of students noticed, and I was
whistled at a lot. I was even goosed a couple times, but I knew I
couldn't respond, otherwise I'd make a scene.
I found Evan where he had told me to meet him, on a flight of wooden
stairs that led down to a creek behind the school. He had a bunch of
buddies with him, all boys, all his age.
For Evan's attention, for his pleasure I let him command me to take the
dress off in front of everyone, and taking Evan inside me first, I let
every one of the boys have me, giving them what I had given those
skaters in Santa Cruz: The time of their lives.
They were all geeky young boys, like Evan, and like Evan I was probably
the only chance they had ever had to be with a woman. And thusly I
wrapped my arms around them, kissed them deeply, and told them how
wonderful they were, just like I had in Santa Cruz.
Only this was my home town. I got to see them again, when Evan would
have me come over and I found myself doing three, maybe four kids a
night. Sometimes they would see me around town, and I would let them
have me in a bathroom or the back of my car.
And then they introduced me to their friends...

No...
None of that happened. That was just the story I told the counselor at
the hospital after I'd tried to kill myself. Evan tried to force
himself on me one night and that was the last I had ever seen of him. I
wouldn't give into him, but he refused to see me after that, unless I'd
put out. I missed him so much that I ate a bunch of pills rather than
have to deal with the pain or having to let a man use me again.
I tried to kill myself over a thirteen year old boy. Pathetic hardly
begins to describe it.
Six months after that painful day I finally got some help. Arnold was
really supportive, though I still won't sleep with him. He's grown up
into quite a striking young man and gotten wholeheartedly into the
gothic scene. Though I still can't call him my boyfriend we've been
around each other all this time, and he's the only man I will let near
me. When I told him the whole story he almost had a breakdown, knowing
that he had been a part of the worst day of my life. But he came back
after a few weeks, and though we are still lovers (though we never have
sex) he and I are more like brother and sister.
I never saw Mickey again.

Fini

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