Earliest Fantasies
As a child, when I would masturbate, I remember fantasizing as I rubbed my clit, that I was tied to a bed, in a cabin, in the woods. Isolated. Alone. Men would come and go and use me as they wanted for their pleasure. Sometimes there would be more than one man at a time. One would have his cock in my mouth while the other would fuck my ass. If I screamed too loudly, I would get beat, slapped, spanked, and spit on. These thoughts would bring me to an orgasm very quickly…but even then, at that young age, I would stay on that edge for hours before allowing myself to climax.
In this cabin was one man who stayed at all times. He was, for lack of a better word, my caretaker. He would run my bath water, wash my body and my hair, tend to my bruises, feed me, and show me how to be pleasing to men. He would use his cock to show me what men liked. He used force as he abused my holes because this is what the other men expected from me. But every once in a while, he would be gentle and allow me to experience pleasure. He said it was good for me to see what I was missing so that I would crave it. He said that men preferred their objects to be desperate and needy. Sometimes during a lesson, I would accidentally have an orgasm. These are the times I would be severely punished. He said he did not enjoy hurting me but stern discipline is the only way I would learn the skills necessary to keep me protected. Essentially, it was his job to keep me safe. As long as I did exactly what he said, I would be ok.
During my fantasies, I imagined being harshly punished in order to mold me into the perfect object to be used by men. I believed then, as I do now, that being pleasing for men is something a woman should strive for. If it pleases a man to inflict pain, the woman should gratefully endure the pain, and thank him afterwards for caring enough about her to take the time to teach her.
Sometimes he would use rope, other times he would use handcuffs to restrict me. My legs were always spread for easy access. Sometimes I would be blindfolded and he would use various objects to play with my clit and shove in my pussy. He would instruct me to lay motionless and in complete silence as he brought me to the edge of a forbidden orgasm. My time alone with my imaginary man was special. He taught me the true pleasure of submission. Using only his hands, he would fondle my breasts while teasing my pussy. That alone would bring me to an orgasm. He would tell me to beg him to allow me to cum, only to be told no. He would edge my pussy until my wetness dripped from his hand.
I became his obedient slave. My focus was his pleasure and what seemed to bring him the most pleasure was watching me be used by multiple men at the same time.
My pussy would throb knowing how turned on he got watching other men use me. I would rub my clit so fast thinking about being used. The men in my fantasies did not care if I had an orgasm. They didn’t come to that cabin to treat me like a lady. They came there to live out their deepest, darkest desires, to be able to act like real men and take their pleasure from this object.
As a young girl, masturbating to these thoughts would eventually lead me to orgasm because I didn’t have the discipline then that I do now. My question is, why on Earth, as a child just discovering masturbation, would my fantasies be so dark? And believe me, they have only increased over time.
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