My Aunt Susan was a pervert. To be precise she was a paedophile, to be even more precise she was a lesbian paedophile. I don’t know how many other girls she’d molested, but I know from things she said while she molested me over the 6 weeks I spent with her that Summer I wasn’t her first. Or probably her last.
It all happened back in the 1980’s, shortly after my 7th birthday my parents suddenly split up; my Father ran off with his bimbo of a secretary and as a consequence my Mother had a complete nervous breakdown and actually got Sectioned. My Father didn’t want to know, and the only alternative to me being taken into Council Care was for me to be packed off to spend the summer with my Mother’s elder sister, Aunt Susan, in Wales.
I hadn’t seen my Aunt for about 2 years but I had no trouble recognising her at the small rural station mainly because she was the only person on the platform. She was a tallish, slim woman in her mid 50’s, handsome rather than pretty, and her suspiciously black hair was cut short in a bob. She smiled as she walked down the platform towards me before giving me a tight hug.
“Hello, Catherine, my, haven’t you grown into a pretty girl.”
At the time I didn’t think anything about the fact that she was paying me compliments before asking about my Mother, I wasn’t even bothered by her next line.
“I bet you have loads of boys after you” She must have seen me blushing as she slyly added “Not interested in boys? Very wise”
The drive to her house, which was really out in the wilds, took about half an hour up and down the savagely beautiful Welsh countryside and after a brief enquiry about the health of my Mother the main gist of her conversation was about what a pretty girl I’d turned into. The beauty of the scenery and the trauma of witnessing my Mother’s breakdown meant my mind wasn’t entirely on my Aunt’s talking so I probably missed any hints, subtle or otherwise, about what would happen to me over the summer.
Her house was an old farm-house standing alone half-way up a hill; it, and the setting was gorgeous and I couldn’t help telling Susan this in an excited voice. She smiled back and said she was sure we’d have lots of fun together over the next few weeks.
Inside she showed me to my room, the door creaked as she opened it and she laughed, saying she kept forgetting to oil it. The room was small and sparsely furnished but the single bed looked very comfortable. Susan lifted my suitcase onto the bed, gave me another hug and left me to unpack while she prepared supper.
After supper, Susan suggested I have a bath, an idea I completely agreed with and spent a delightful hour just soaking my anxieties away in a steaming hot bath. Aunt Susan’s comments about how much I’d changed since she last saw me, and how pretty I’d become made me take a look at my young body: my breasts were smallish, but quite distinct and there was the first fuzzy growth around my pussy, my legs had long since lost the puppy fat I’d had since I was 5, lazily I lifted one out of the bath and soaped it. I thought I’d have a really nice time with Susan over the next 6 weeks; she seemed nice and I didn’t think the age difference would matter; after all she was my Aunt.
After the bath I got changed into my pyjamas for bed and went downstairs to say good-night, as I entered the sitting room Susan was sitting on the sofa reading, she smiled, her eyes seeming to drink me in as they flickered up and down. She patted the seat next to her and told me to sit down; she continued smiling as she stroked my hair.
“If you get scared or lonely in the night, my bedroom’s at the opposite end of the hallway, just come in” Susan said.
“Thanks, Aunty, hopefully I’ll be alright, you mustn’t worry about me.”
“Well, I don’t think your Mother would be very pleased if she knew her little girl wasn’t being looked after”
I glanced around the room, there were a lot of pictures on the walls of girls, all tastefully done in black and white, and Susan watched my line of sight.
“Pretty aren’t they?”
“Do you know them, Aunty?” I asked intrigued as to why these were the only sort of pictures in the room
“A few, some I’d love to have known”
The answer was odd, and it left something unsaid hanging in the room. Before I could ask any more questions about the girls and what had happened to them Susan patted me on my knee.
“Time for bed.” She ordered, cutting off my line of enquiry and I scuttled out of the room and up the stairs to my room. Getting into bed I realised how silent the place was, so unlike my house in the city. I turned out the bedside lamp and the complete darkness of the area overwhelmed me; even though the curtains were open there were no lights outside at all. The house really was isolated, and the isolation suddenly scared me, should I lock the bedroom door? I decided against it, though later wished I had, but given what Susan did to me over the next few weeks it would only have deterred her for one night. I lay there in the dark for a while until, after I’d heard Susan come up the stairs and close her door. Shortly after that I fell asleep.
I don’t know how long I’d been asleep for, possibly 3 or 4 hours, when I suddenly woke with a start, the bedroom door was creaking open and someone was coming in.
“Who’s there?” I whispered the fear showing in my voice.
“Shhhh, Catherine,” said my Aunt “It’s only me. I couldn’t sleep worrying about you, so I’ve come to check you’re ok.”
For some reason she didn’t turn the light on but walked over to the bed.
“I’m fine, Aunty. I was a bit scared by the silence and the darkness at first but I’m ok now”
I felt the duvet being drawn back and my Aunt started to climb into bed with me.
“You’re Mother would want the best for her little girl, wouldn’t she?” she said as she slid in beside me and pulled the cover over us, I had to budge right up to the edge of the bed but I felt her arms around me. “So I’ve come to keep you company for the night.”
She hugged me to her. To my horror I realised she was naked. Her large breasts crushed against my much smaller ones as she kissed my forehead. I didn’t know what to do; I knew this wasn’t right but I didn’t know how to stop her. I felt her hands stroking my back, slowly getting lower until one of them was resting on my pyjama clad bum, gently stroking it.
“Aunty, please, don’t do this.” I whimpered as she kissed my face, her other hand holding my head firmly. She brushed her lips over mine and I tried to pull back as her tongue flickered over my lips.
“Just be a good girl and do as I tell you.” Her voice had a steely tone to it, that didn’t really allow me to argue and now my ability to struggle was behind restrained as she knotted my hair around in her fingers to hold my face absolutely still as she showered it with kisses, occasionally rubbing the tip of her tongue along my lips but never into it.
Her other hand, that had been gently stroking my bum through my pyjamas now slipped inside them and I must have jumped as I felt her fingers on my bottom cheeks as Susan suddenly whispered in a very soothing voice.
“Relax, honey, just relax, you’ll enjoy it, I promise” She gently squeezed my cheeks and I could feel her body shake and her voice dropped to a murmur “You’re so pretty, Catherine, I just have to touch you, so gorgeous, just be a good girl for me.”
I could feel her nipples, like small bullets, pressing into my chest as she held me tightly to her. I was so scared and stunned I just lay there (not that there was a lot I could do to stop her) and let her hand fondle and stroke my bottom as she continued to kiss my face and hair. When her little finger pressed against my anus I twitched in her arms and gave a small squeal of surprise which made her laugh in a really throaty voice before telling me again and again to relax and not fight it.
Then she turned me around in her arms so I was facing away from her and now her hands had new things to explore; she slowly unbuttoned my pyjama top with one hand before slipping it inside and onto my nipples.
“Such pretty little titties” She whispered in my ear as her fingers began to tease and rub my small breasts, then her other hand slid down my bare, flat stomach and sneaked under the waistband of my pyjama bottoms towards my pussy.
“Aunty, no, please, not there” I whined and tried to struggle free of her grip but she held me tightly across my chest and hooked her legs over mine to keep me still.
“Don’t try to fight me, Catherine. Just relax.” Her voice had the steely tone I’d noted before and it intimidated me into silent acquiescence as her fingers gently started to rub my pussy lips. I bit my lip to stop myself screaming as I felt one of her finger-tips rub along my lips and slowly ease inside; I struggled in her grip but was unable to prevent Susan from starting to rub her crotch against my bottom and her words started to sound garbled and rushed as she was fingering me.
“So pretty” she gasped and panted “So pretty” she kept repeating as her crotch gyrated against my bottom and I could feel a dampness pressing through the fabric as she trembled violently, her words no longer words but almost animal gasps.
she held me so tightly I thought she’d crack my ribs. I just lay there in total fright; I hadn’t even got wet under her attentions and she must have been referring to that when she whispered in a hoarse voice.
“You’ll learn to enjoy it, I promise you will”
She kissed my hair and neck again as she took her hand out of my pyjama bottoms, and did up the buttons of my top, she sighed as she buried her face in my hair. She snuggled closer to me (if that was possible) and soon I could hear her breathing become deeper and more even and I guessed she was asleep. Her arms were still wrapped tightly around me so I was unable to escape even now, still in a sort of shock I cried myself to sleep.
When I awoke, it was daylight and I was alone. Had I dreamed it? Had my Aunt Susan really got into my bed and molested me? Still in my pyjamas I went downstairs, following the smell of a breakfast being cooked.
My Aunt was frying some bacon on the stove when I entered the kitchen.
“Hi, Cathy, did you sleep ok?” Her voice was normal, and there was nothing in her face to indicate she’d done nothing all night except sleep in her own bed.
“Errr, yes, I think so”
“You don’t sound very sure, guess the silence of the place must be a huge change from home”
I must have dreamed it, I must have. She would surely make some reference to it if it had really happened.
“I had a really strange dream, that’s all” I mumbled trying not to make eye contact with her as I sat down at the table place prepared for me
Susan came over with the frying pan and started to scoop the bacon onto my plate.
“Oh yes, do tell”
“No, it’s nothing, just a silly dream.”
She rested a hand on my shoulder and I twitched involuntarily.
“Aren’t you going to thank me?” She asked, and my mouth dropped open, was she expecting me to thank her for molesting me?
“Wha, what for?” I asked suspiciously
“For breakfast, of course. Why? Is there something else you want to thank me for?” Her tone was still totally matter of fact, and that really threw me. I was now totally confused; if it had been a dream it was the most vivid one I’d ever had, but if she had crept into my room and molested me wouldn’t she at least show some sign of acknowledgment. I lapsed into a perplexed silence as I tucked into my breakfast, trying and failing to think of a way of bringing the subject up.
The day passed lazily; after a drive into town for some shopping, I went for a walk in the hills while Susan did the housework. When I came back from my walk we had supper. While we were watching TV later Aunt Susan dropped her bombshell.
We were sitting on the sofa when she suddenly spoke.
“I think it’s time we laid down a few ground rules, Catherine”
“Ok, Aunt Susan, like what?”
“Well, seeing as we’re now ‘special friends’ you are to sleep in my room from now on.”
My jaw literally dropped as I heard this, but my Aunt just ploughed on.
“Secondly, I got the impression last night that you didn’t welcome my attentions. From now on, never try to resist me, you’ll accept whatever I do or say without question or resistance.”
My face must now have been beetroot red as I spluttered to register my outrage at these demands which, even at the age I was, I knew to be sexually charged and thoroughly wrong, yet still Aunt Susan went on, either not noticing or, more likely, not bothering to notice my objections.
“Thirdly, if I feel that your clothing is inappropriate I will provide more suitable attire. Think you can keep to those rules, my little one?”
Even though this last question was rhetorical I couldn’t help almost shouting my answer, my deep shock clear in my voice.
“Aunty, no I won’t, that’s disgusting. I don’t want you touching me, and I won’t sleep in your room.”
Susan’s voice dropped into that steely tone she’d used last night to indicate she would brook no argument.
“You’ll damn well do as you’re told. Let me remind you of your situation: you’re in the middle of nowhere so you can’t just walk out, and if you did where would you go? Your Father’s abandoned you and your Mother’s in the nut-house.”
This crude, but essentially true, summation of my family situation kicked me in the stomach and my eyes filled with tears, but Susan carried on.
“If you do decide to run away, well, you’ll simply be taken into Care, if you try and tell them I molested you I’ll just deny it; who do you think they’ll believe?”
This was true, of course, back then it was all very different, Child Abuse just didn’t happen.
I was sobbing now, as the awfulness of my situation hit home, one question kept coming to mind.
“Why, why?” I sobbed, almost incoherently.
Aunt Susan watched impassively before shrugging.
“I like little girls and you’re a very pretty one, a bit older than I normally go for but beggars can’t be choosers. And don’t get any ideas of revenge by telling your Mother when she gets out; she’ll be in a very delicate state for years to come and a shock like this might send her back to the nut-house for good.”
I dropped my head; I knew my Aunt was right. I also knew she had me.
“Don’t worry, Catherine, I won’t hurt you, and you might even enjoy it.”
I said nothing, because of my sobs, but deep down I doubted it.
Aunt Susan got off the sofa and came towards me to give me a comforting hug. Looking back now I know I should have at least tried to fight her off, but at that moment, straight after she’d starkly reminded me of just how alone I was in the world I simply wanted to be loved and I melted into her arms.
Of course, she slipped effortlessly into the new rules. One of her hands immediately started fondling my jean covered bottom as she inhaled in my hair before kissing my cheek and neck. Then I felt my t-shirt being tugged from the waistband of my jeans. As if in a dream I let my Aunt lift my t-shirt over my head exposing my bare breasts. She brushed aside my hands as I tried to cover them before gently cupping them in her hands rubbing my small nipples with her thumbs.
Totally impassively I let her lead me to the sofa and lay me down on it, feebly I tried to stop her unbuttoning my jeans but she simply ignored my protests and tugged them down my legs, when they were bunched around my knees she ran her hands up the inside of my thighs and traced circles on my cotton knickers with her fingers before slipping her thumbs inside the waistband and tugging them down too.
“Aunty, please stop” I sobbed in a pathetic voice which she predictably ignored.
“Just lie there little one, remember the rules. You may enjoy it” She grunted as she slid my jeans and knickers off.
Now I was totally naked on the sofa, looking up at her with terrified eyes as she knelt, smiling, at my feet. Her hands grasped my ankles and spread my legs apart, and then she leant forward and started to kiss her way up my thighs alternating from one to the other getting closer to my pussy all the time.
I squirmed as I felt her hot breath on my pussy, then I twitched as I felt her mouth pressing onto it. Her tongue pressed briefly inside me and I gave a short squeal of fear and shock which produced a muffled laugh from my Aunt. At that early stage of the summer my body wasn’t responding to my Aunt’s violations and realising this Susan moved her attentions from my pussy and began to kiss up my stomach to my breasts.
She spent what seemed like ages kissing and licking my nipples, all the time her eyes were fixed on mine; they had a hypnotic quality to them as they stared unblinking at me as her lips caressed my nipples.
Then suddenly her face was directly in front of mine, her lips only millimetres from mine. Her voice now had a deep, sultry tone as she spoke.
“You’re very tense, little one, you must relax. You have no choice but to let us have our fun with you. Now, kiss me”
She lowered her lips onto mine and started to kiss me, I was so pre-occupied with her mouth smothering mine that I missed the significance of her using the plural. I felt her hand caressing my face gently as her tongue forced its way between my lips then started to play with my own.
She started to grind her crotch into mine as she gripped my face between both hands and kissed me passionately for what seemed like ages. Her tongue raped my mouth, getting more and more violent as she probed for a response that didn’t come.
Finally she stopped and, pulling her head back, she smiled at me.
“You really are going to have to try harder to please me, Catherine. I don’t really want to take drastic measures, but if I have to I will. I think we should have an early night” Again her tone allowed for no argument, nor did she enlighten me as to what the ‘drastic measures’ might be, but even at the tender age of 7 I could take a guess.
She climbed off me and pulled me gently off the sofa by my hand, I was still sobbing slightly but I don’t think she cared as she ushered me, still naked, through the door and up the stairs with me leading the way.
“Mmmm, you have a gorgeous little bum, Catherine. Be careful you don’t give me the opportunity to spank it.” I didn’t realise, but should have guessed, that I wouldn’t need to give her an opportunity.
At the top of the stairs she guided me into her room and sat me down on her large double bed. To my dismay she immediately started undressing talking casually about the length of time her abuse of me would last.
“Since I’m going to take advantage of your delightful young body whenever I want, you’re going to have to learn how to please me”
This was the first time I’d seen my Aunt naked; she was slim although there was some fat around her hips, her breasts naturally dwarfed mine and because she was already aroused her nipples were standing stiff. My gaze was drawn irresistibly to her large mass of pubic hair around her pussy (don’t forget this was the 1980’s, shaving down there was very rare). It only took a few minutes for her to undress; probably deliberately she had been wearing no underwear and as she walked towards me on the bed she continued her sentence.
“Tonight I’m going to teach you to pleasure me just as I like it done, and we’ll have a lot of fun too.”
I recoiled in fear as she climbed onto the bed but she merely chuckled and put her arms around me, bringing her mouth straight onto mine as she laid us both slowly down onto the duvet with her on top of me. Using her knees she pushed my legs apart and ground her pussy against mine as her tongue slid over my lips. She broke the kiss momentarily to issue her first instruction.
“When I kiss you I expect you to open your mouth and use your tongue on mine”
Most pre-pubescent/adolescent girls learn kissing from people their own age and with roughly the same level of experience, I learnt from a woman over 30 years my senior and she used all her experience on me once I’d opened my mouth; her tongue flitted all around my mouth, the tip one second teasing my own tongue before what felt like her whole tongue pushing into my mouth, as I began to respond to her I felt her pussy grind harder against mine, and I felt a warm wetness pressing onto me. I began to feel a tingling in my own pussy as we kissed and I think she sensed this as she stopped kissing briefly to grin at me.
“Learning to like it? Now, put your arms around me and stroke my back, try to stroke my bum too”
As we continued kissing I did as she told me and stroked her back and tried to reach her bum, but because of the difference in our heights was unable to do more than brush my fingertips over the top of her cheeks, nevertheless she moaned as she felt my hands on her flesh. One of her arms was under my shoulders holding us in a tight embrace, pressing my small breasts against hers, her stiff nipples against my flesh. Her other hand had slipped under my bum and was squeezing the flesh as it inched further underneath me until her little finger was pressing on my tiny, rear hole. I squirmed in distress as her finger tip wormed against my ring until she broke the kiss again.
“Don’t worry, little one, I won’t slip anything up there that’s not lubed, you young things need careful preparation before that” I felt sick inside at her words, surely she wouldn’t put anything up there, would she?
My Aunt rolled off me, still keeping me in a tight hold before loosening her grip and moving up the bed so her breasts were level with my mouth.
“Right, Catherine, now I want you to kiss my titties.” As she said this she gripped the back of my head and pulled my face onto her chest.
My face was buried in between her breasts while she wiggled her fleshy mounds on my cheeks before she eased my head back and carefully brought my lips onto one of her stiff nipples.
“Suck it” She hissed, and then she arched back, giving a small gasp of pleasure when I opened my lips and took it into my mouth. At the same time her free hand grasped my right wrist and pushed my hand between her legs, forcing my fingers into her very damp pussy.
“Keep sucking, keep licking it. That’s very good, little one, very gooooood” She clasped my fingers in hers and moved my hand up until they pressed against a small, hard little ‘button’ amongst all the wet, warm flesh. She shivered as my fingers were pressed onto it, and then her hand moved my fingers all over it; up and down, across and around it.
“Ahhhhh”, she groaned, her body starting to tremble, “open your mouth wide” she hissed and as I obeyed she forced more of her large breast into my mouth. “Keep sucking, keep licking”
She kept repeating this all the while she was directing my hand in her pussy, until suddenly her words became a low hiss, then a groan, then a long shriek which instinctively scared me. Her whole body was shaking now and her thighs were clamped around my wrist, her pussy pumping itself on my hand. My fingers were becoming coated in a hot juice as her hand held them pressed against her hard button.
In my fear I tried to move away, but was held very tight against her as she now started to thrash about, still moaning and shrieking for what seemed like ages until finally she slowed, her screams reaching a wordless point, her head thrown back, her mouth wide open.
I was now rigid with fear, I’d never seen anyone have an orgasm before, and my Aunt was what I now know is ‘a screamer’, and for a minute or so she just lay there her body still quivering slightly and now her voice started to come back at first as a whisper, then getting louder.
“Oh, you little slut, you little slut” She kept repeating it like a mantra and I burst into tears at the insult.
This made her laugh and she brought my face to hers and kissed my lips.
“Don’t cry little one, you were very good, very good indeed. We’re going to have such a good time together.”
Her hand slipped down between my legs and she ran one finger over my slit; she felt a trace of wetness and grinned evilly at me.
“Hmmmm, little one, I think you enjoyed that too.”
Part II: Depravity
I think if things had just stayed like that between my Aunt and I then, looking back, it could just be viewed (at a pinch) as a lonely old woman becoming besotted with an adolescent teenager.
But after that night I think something broke free inside Aunt Susan’s libido; whereas up to that moment she’d only had possession of her young victims for a few hours at most before, after having her way with them, she had to get rid of them (I found out over the course of the summer that they were nearly all under-age girls from Cardiff) now she had her own little pet on a 24/7 basis for a whole summer, one who would do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted, and who wouldn’t need to be disposed of after a few hours. I think that this realisation, coupled with the ease with which she’d got me into bed and made me orgasm, opened the deepest recesses of her mind; the ones where the truly dark fantasies she’d been feeding for years were lurking. In effect I was the key that let loose her true depravity.
It was in the morning after our first full night together that I got the first glimpse of this dark side of hers.
I awoke feeling cold and rapidly realised why: the duvet cover had been thrown off leaving me naked and exposed. Without looking round I tried to reach down to pull it back up, but realised with a shock that my wrists had been tied together in front of me while I slept. Instinctively I tried to sit up and in the next split second found my ankles had been tied as well.
“Aunty” I started to scream in mounting panic; had there been a robbery and I’d been left tied up? There was no end to the possibilities, but I’d never have guessed the truth.
“Shhhh, little darling,” Aunt Susan was lying next to me on the bed, one hand playing slowly with her pussy as she watched me starting to struggle “Don’t be scared, I just wanted to see how pretty you’d look tied up.”
With her free hand she moved me fairly freely onto my side facing her, and stroked over my hips, her finger tips running over my thighs before tracing their way up across my stomach to my breasts, taking and squeezing a nipple between thumb and forefinger.
“Please Aunty, I’m scared, please let me go.”
Her voice seemed almost distant, but it was clearly aroused. “Shhh, little one, remember the rules.” She rolled me onto my face and ran her hand all over my thighs and bum, her fingers sliding between my legs and pressing against my pussy.
I struggled but it was no good and then I started to shout. “Please Aunty, I don’t like this, I’m scared, please untie me, please” my voice was getting louder and louder all the time until it became a piercing scream as her fingers found my clit. Unlike last night, I was not enjoying this one bit.
With my face turned towards her I was just able to see, by looking down the bed, that the louder I screamed the faster she rubbed herself, and the more ecstatic the look on her face became. Suddenly she rolled me onto my back.
Almost as if in a dream she seemed to drawl “Even though no one can hear your pathetic whimpers Sally, they are a bit loud; I think you’d look even prettier with a gag in.” Lazily she reached down to the side of the bed and retrieved a pair of her knickers, screwed them into a ball and tried to force them into my mouth. I clamped my mouth shut and, as she pressed them against my lips, I could smell her taste, and I realised they were worn panties.
“Do as I tell you, dammit” she suddenly snarled and she triumphantly pushed the knickers inside my mouth, then held them in place while she produced a dressing gown cord from somewhere and looped it around my face and between my lips thus holding her knickers in place.
I was crying loudly now, partly because this was the first time my Aunt had hit me (and it was quite a violent blow), but also because I was now really scared. Breathing was difficult, and I had to make a real effort to stay as calm as I could and breath through my nose.
“Now, just lie there and let me look at you” my Aunt purred, the anger in her voice gone as suddenly as it had arrived, she knelt up on her shins, her eyes glowing with lust. “Oh yes, my little darling, you look so gorgeous like that.”
Once again her hand had slipped between her legs, and two of her fingers were inside her pussy which was clearly wet and glistening in the morning sunshine. Once again she molested me with her free hand.
“Don’t try and fight me, little one, you know the rules. I love it when you little things are helpless like this. Mmmm, yes, what a lovely way to start the day; a pretty young girl all tied up in my bed. Mmmm, yessss” her voice trailed off as her eyes closed in ecstasy.
My breathing was really difficult now, but she showed no concern as her molestations reached a fever pitch as her hand literally ran wild over my body, caressing, pinching, kneading, stroking, probing as, her eyes closed, she fingered herself to a clearly crushing orgasm.
Coming down slowly, she opened her eyes and gazed at my bound and gagged body. “So pretty, so pretty” she murmured to herself, before glancing at my face and noticed as if for the first time my distressed breathing.
“If I take your gag out, do you promise not to scream?”
I nodded wildly, breathing was now getting virtually impossible and I had started to fear I’d suffocate. Languidly, though I wanted her to do it as fast as possible she leant down and untied the sash behind my head, then hooked her knickers out of my mouth and I greedily gasped at the cold, fresh air, my chest heaving. She laughed as she played with my fast moving nipples, tweaking and pinching them, delighting in the small squeals they produced from me.
“Listen here you little tart, apart from me you are completely alone in the world, your mother’s in a loony bin and your father’s off shagging some slag from the typing pool. I took you in out of the goodness of my heart, and while you’re living under my roof you will do anything and everything I tell you. If you refuse me or my friends anything, I’ll just say I can’t cope with you and you’ll get put straight into Council Care. Do you understand?”
In absolute terror I dumbly nodded my acquiescence, but She carried on muttering, half to herself, half so I could hear.
“I’ll show you what your mouth will be for from now on.”
She knelt up on the bed, still keeping a tight grip on my head, and swinging one leg over me sat on my chest, her legs tucked under her knees either side of my body. Her hairy pussy was only inches from my face and she was pulling me towards it. I struggled in terror and revulsion, but she was far too strong for me and easily brought my lips into contact with her glistening, wet pussy.
“Ahhhhh” She gasped “Right, little one, push your tongue inside me” She twisted my hair even harder now as an incentive. “Do it or I will really hurt you.” She reached behind her with her other hand and twisted my nipple hard making my eyes water even more.
She wriggled her pussy against my mouth and I knew I’d have to do as she said. Almost gagging with revulsion I poked my tongue between her lips, tasting her arousal as I did so.
“Up a bit, little one” She murmured, guiding my tongue onto her ‘Magic Button’, I could tell when I touched it by her squeal of pleasure. “Very good, little slut, now lick it, lick it like a sweet” her voice now was smooth and seductive as she talked me into giving her a climax.
As her body shuddered and her thighs clamped my face tightly, she let go of my hair and pulled and stroked her breasts as she screamed and moaned in pleasure. My open mouth filled as her juices oozed between my lips and I started to cough it also began filling with a much more salty tasting liquid which was filling my throat at a much higher tempo…I quickly realised she’d “lost” control of her bladder and was not freely peeing into my mouth as well.
“Swallow it, little one, swallow my cum and pee and do as I say now” she said through her squeals, and kept my head in her thigh-lock until I had no option but to take it all down my throat. This seemed to satisfy her and her whole body relaxed, her legs released their suffocating grip on my face and my head fell back on the pillow. I gasped for air as my Aunt, almost snake-like shifted position so she was now lying on top of me, her smiling face inches from mine. Her tongue flicked out to run along mine, tasting her own juices and pee.
“You’ve a bit to learn still, little one, but that was a good start.”
I smiled weakly back, too scared to tell her how horrible my situation was. Over the next few weeks it was going to get 100 times worse.
Susan now climbed off the bed and began to untie the cords binding my wrists and ankles. I sat up, rubbing some circulation into my extremities, dismayed at the vivid red marks left by the tight dressing-gown cords.
My Aunt put on her white dressing gown, tying it with one of the cords now lying on the bed, as she fastened it loosely around her waist she turned to face me.
“Your behaviour this morning was quite deplorable, Catherine, and for that you must be punished.”
My jaw nearly fell open at this; she’d tried me up while I was asleep and then sexually assaulted me when I was awake, yet my behaviour was being called deplorable. But my growing fear of her made me stay silent as she blithely carried on.
“And your punishment is that today you may only wear a t-shirt and knickers, nothing else. Is that clear? I’m going to prepare breakfast, you may have a bath, but don’t be longer than half an hour.” As she was talking she was rummaging in one of her drawers. Finally she found what she was looking for, and turning around she lobbed some things onto the bed.
“Don’t get any ideas about wearing a big t-shirt; I want you in that one and those knickers, I don’t want you trying to cover up your gorgeous little body.”
Her voice left no room for argument and I stared at the clothes as she left the bedroom for the kitchen. My head was spinning, the taste of my Aunt’s juices and pee was still in my mouth and my stomach was in a knot of fear as I staggered to the bathroom and ran a shallow bath. I didn’t even lay back in it, just sat with my arms around my knees, a deep, depressing sadness drawing tears from my eyes. I knew everything Aunt Susan was true; I was alone, and if she kicked me out I would end up in Council Care for who knows how long. And no one would believe me if I told them the truth about what she was doing to me. I was totally in her hands and at her mercy.
Almost like a zombie I got out of the bath, dried myself and went back to the bedroom. The T-shirt featured the logo of the film ‘The Goonies’, but it was for a girl a few years younger than me and because of this it was tight and ended about 1 or 2 inches above my waist. The knickers were also for a girl younger than me, they were white cotton with little blue stars on them, and they too were tight and too revealing. I’ve wondered over the years what the story behind them was, were they just clothes my Aunt had bought for her ‘little friends’, or had they belonged to one of her ‘little friends’ and if so how or why had she come to be parted from them? Many dark and scary thoughts have gone across my mind since that day; there is no doubt in my mind that my Aunt was a scary woman, only she knows if one day she took her dominance games a stage too far. I certainly wouldn’t put it past her; if her ‘little friends’ w ere under age prostitutes who would miss them if they simply went out and never returned?
But those thoughts were long into the future as I went down to the kitchen for breakfast, feeling sick inside as Susan’s eyed me over lasciviously as I entered the kitchen.
We ate in silence, I wore a sullen look throughout that barely covered my obvious powerlessness, and as a result she had a constant, lustful smirk on her face as she sat next to me, her hand constantly stroking my bare leg.
After breakfast I slouched off to the lounge to watch some TV while Susan washed up, she popped her head around the door to announce she was going to town and then asked me what clothe size I was? Puzzled, I grunted the answer at her and heard her leave the house and drive off.
Perhaps, I wondered, she was going to buy me some nice clothes to say ‘Thank you’ or more realistically ‘Keep quiet’, and for a while I cheered up, and then bored went upstairs to sleep
She came back mid-afternoon and popped her head around the door to announce her return; her hands were empty, so if she’d bought me anything she wasn’t going to let me have it at once.
I lay there as I heard her go down the stairs and the phone by her bed made a brief noise which showed she was on the phone to someone. I stared up at the ceiling for some minutes; at least she hadn’t molested me now for over 6 hours which was good going for her, surely it was too good to last. It was. After about 20 minutes I heard her coming back up the stairs and looked apprehensively at her as she came in.
“Come downstairs.” She ordered, in that voice that didn’t allow for debate. “I’ve got my friend Margaret on the phone and she wants to talk to you. You are to answer all her questions truthfully, do you understand? One word of warning though. She doesn’t like her girls to use the word ‘Pussy’, so if she asks you about ‘down there’ use the word ‘cunny’. Understand?”
My stomach knotted itself in fear again, now one of her friends was going to ask me some pervy questions over the phone. “Umm, what sort of questions Aunty?” I asked, though I knew the answer already.
My Aunt took my hand and led me down the stairs “Oh just about what we’ve been up to. And you’ll be very good and answer all of her questions, won’t you?”
“Yes, Aunty.” I mumbled as she led me into the lounge.
The phone was beside the sofa and Susan led me to the sofa before sitting down and pulling me down onto her lap, one of her arms immediately snaked around me and rested on my thigh. Then she reached for the receiver, and covering the mouthpiece briefly as she picked it up reminded me again about the use of the word ‘cunny, then she handed it to me.
“Hello?” I asked in a truthfully, frightened voice
“Hello, my dear” It was the voice of a woman about the same age as my Aunt, but slightly deeper and huskier with a distinct Liverpudlian accent. “I’m your Aunt’s friend Margaret. You must be Susan’s pretty little Catherine, she’s told me so much about you.”
“Yes.”
“Now Catherine, where are you sitting?”
“On my Aunt’s lap.”
“And has she got her arms around you?”
“Yes, one of her arms is.”
My Aunt, who either knew what was going to be said, or could hear anyway, slipped her hand down to the inside of my thigh, the side of her hand pressing lightly against my knickers.
“Where is her hand?”
“On my leg.”
“Are her fingers touching you at all?”
“Yes” My voice was starting to get a bit tearful at the humiliation of the whole situation
“Don’t get upset, my dear, it’ll be alright. Now, is she touching you at all?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she touching you?”
“On my, on my….”
“On your cunny, my sweet?” Margaret finished my sentence for me.
“Yes.” I sobbed as my Aunt moved her hand up across my knickers and slid her fingers inside them.
“Is her hand inside or outside your knickers?”
“Inside” I whined as Susan pressed her index finger along my slit
“What happened to your jeans?”
“My Aunt wouldn’t let me wear any because I’d been bad.” I was sounding like a really small girl now.
“Really, what had you done?” Margaret’s voice seemed slightly different now, as if her she was short of breath.
“She tied me up while I was asleep and I told her I didn’t like it.” My own breathing was now getting a bit faster as my Aunt’s finger tip pressed against my clit.
“While you were asleep? Did she come into your room?”
“No, I was in her bed.”
“In her bed?” Margaret’s voice registered surprise, but I couldn’t believe my Aunt hadn’t gleefully told her everything she’d done to me.
“Yes, she’d told me I had to sleep in her bed?”
“Did she kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“Did she show you her magic button?”
“Yes”
“What did you do to her?”
“She made me touch her magic button?”
“Was she wet?”
“Yes.” I sobbed, but Margaret ploughed on, and I had a mental image of her playing with herself as she questioned me.
“Well, Catherine, I don’t know what to say. You walk around without any jeans, you sleep in your Auntie’s bed and touch her ‘Magic button’ and make her wet, and now you’re on the phone to me while you let her put her hand inside your knickers. It does seem to me, my girl, that you are a little tart. Isn’t that true?”
For what it was worth, even though she couldn’t see me, I shook my head and sobbed some more. “I’m not a tart.”
Margaret’s voice registered mock surprise. “You mean you don’t like your Aunt touching you?”
“No” My voice was barely audible now, partly because I simply felt so bad, but also because my Aunt was playing with my clit, and was making my pussy tingle against my will.
“Would you like me to get her to stop touching your cunny?”
“Yes.” I mumbled, not really believing she would.
“If I do though, my dear little thing, you must promise to do something for me, will you promise to do that?”
Clutching at this potential salvation, I eagerly said I would.
“That’s a good little girl. Now, tell your Aunt that her friend Margaret tells her to stop touching you.” She sensed the fearful hesitation in my silence. “Just do it, she won’t be angry.”
My voice faltering with both unwilling arousal and fear of my Aunt’s anger I barely managed to squeak my words. “Aunty, Margaret says to stop touching me.”
I feared a volcanic eruption, but Susan merely pouted like a spoilt child and removed her fingers from inside my knickers with no further objections, although she fixed my gaze as she licked my juices from her fingers with a cruelly lewd smile.
Margaret’s Liverpool tones sounded again in my ear. “Has she stopped touching you?”
“Yes” I sobbed
“Now, if I did that for you, you promised to do something for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” A small dread was growing inside me as my Aunt’s hand slid under my t-shirt and started to squeeze and fondle my breasts.
“Well, I want you to put your hand inside your knickers. You promised, remember?”
I hesitated, and she sensed my hesitation. “You promised, remember? If you don’t do as you promised I’ll tell your Aunt to punish you. And you don’t want that, do you?”
I shook my head, my Aunt was now a massive figure of dread in my demonology and I didn’t want to incur her wrath. So reluctantly, with my face almost crimson with embarrassment, with my Aunt pinching one of my nipples between her finger and thumb, I pushed my hand inside my knickers.
“Are your fingers on your cunny, little girl?”
“Yes.” I whispered.
“Does it feel wet? Has your Aunt made your cunny wet?”
“Yes.” I was crying again
“Mmmmm, lucky you. Now, little Cathy, I want you to masturbate for me, will you do that for me?”
“What’s that?”
Margaret laughed, her voice sounding amused, but also aroused at my confession of innocence. “You’ve never masturbated?”
“No.” I mumbled through my tears. And it was true; I really never had played with myself ‘down there’. Was that abnormal? Did it make me that innocent? Not really, I was only 13, remember. Sex, at that age in the 80’s was not something that loomed very large for girls of my age, unlike nowadays.
“Well, in that case you’ll have to ask your Aunt to help you. Say what I tell you: ‘Please, Aunt Susan, will you help me play with my cunny?’”
I hesitated to obey, and down the phone line I could hear Margaret’s shallow, excited breathing. Time was almost standing still; my Aunt’s fingers were still playing with my nipples, teasing them into arousal as I was still incapable, at that age, of controlling my reactions. Her breath and lips were now on my cheek as she kissed me and her left hand stroking the top of my left leg.
“Do it, little girl, don’t make me ask her.”
Swallowing deeply, dropping my head, the words came out as a barely audible whisper. “Please, Aunt Susan, will you help me play with my cunny?”
“Of course I will, my little pet” she purred and I shivered, partly at her use of the word ‘pet’ and partly with fear and disgust as her left hand pushed into my knickers until it smothered my smaller one.
Aunt Susan wriggled her hand around on top of mine, her movements stretching the already tight fabric of my knickers and making the waistband dig into me, until her digits exactly shadowed mine and she pressed my index finger onto my clit as her others guided mine to stroke my pussy lips.
“Tell me what, she’s doing.” Margaret urged her voice now quite husky with perverted lust.
With a voice betraying the tears rolling down my cheeks I sobbed my description of a woman in her late 40’s forcibly masturbating a half naked 7 year old girl. “She’s making me play with my cunny.”
“Is she making you wet?”
“Yes.” I whispered in acknowledgement of my Aunt’s dextrous work.
“Are you tingling down there, is your cunny feeling nice.”
I didn’t reply, merely sobbed in agreement as my pussy got more and more aroused.
I think that was what made it worse; the awareness that my Aunt was making me feel ‘tingly’ and that there was nothing I could do to stop her making me come.
“Ask your Aunt to make you come, ask her nicely, little one.” Margaret’s voice was now like a low pant, each word standing separately. “Ask her now.”
I shut my eyes and with a voice almost choked out of existence by the orgasm started by my Aunt’s fingers muttered Margaret’s instructions.
“Please, Aunty, make me come.” And she did.
She trapped my fingers in place in my pussy as my juices oozed onto our hands, I gurgled and gabbled incoherently and dropped the phone, but at that point I guess Margaret 150 miles away in Liverpool had probably done the same.
My Aunt laughed in a deep, satisfied tone as she gripped my hand and removed it sharply from my sensitive pussy, the phone receiver fell to the floor but she gave it no attention as she slid me off her lap onto the sofa next to her and, spreading her legs, forced our hands onto her wet pussy.
I screamed in disgust, defiance and fear but she held my hand in a vice-like grip as she moved forward on the sofa to press her pussy against our fingers. Her other arm gripped my arm in a headlock as we fell sideways on the sofa immobilising me under her, my screams stilled as she half choked me. All the time she was rubbing our hands against her pussy, my finger tips being forced between her pussy lips. I could feel her breath on my ear as she whispered.
“It’s sexier when you struggle.” I felt her body shudder as her voice trailed off and I felt her juices flood onto my fingers.
She lay on top of me as she slowly wound down, kissing my hair as her words started up again.
“You’re a sexy little girl, Cathy, if only you’d realise it and let us have our little fun, we wouldn’t have to hurt you.”
She pushed herself up, letting me breathe and slither away off the sofa gasping for air. Sullenly I looked at her, wondering what her next perverted move would be. To this day I can’t decide if she was playing with me, or whether she genuinely believed all the little girls she molested were ‘asking for it’; she must have known I was not a wiling participant in all this, but I do believe that serial paedophiles like my Aunt need to believe that the child is an equal partner in their activities, so who can say?