Betty Bukkake

"Just to your knees" he said and then made me kneel on the floor stretched out across the coffee table watching the movie, with my fat butt facing him. And I watched the girl get fucked up the ass with closeups of it sliding in and out while she sucked the other guy and I desparately wanted to masturbate. Partly because the movie turned me on, but I think more because I felt so stupid being in such an undignified position and I wanted to make it worse. I wanted to masturbate in front of him so I could feel even more pathetic. Ever since he convinced me that I actually get off on being humiliation the more I realize that it is true. But I wanted him to tell me to do it again so I would not have to volenteer, so I waited for him to tell me to. But he didn't. He just started talking about the movie: didn't I wish it was me being stuffed full of cock from both ends and just think how turned on I would be after four movies, and then I just did it. I shoved my hand down and started rubbing myself like a slut. I felt so pathetic, like I was too horny to be able to control myself, but that turned me on more and I would have cum in no time if he had not stopped me, telling me I was not "allowed" to. Not allowed to?! Oh, that really made me squirm, but I slowed down and then he made me read my kata. Over and over, lying there in that humiliating position with various woman grunting and squealing on the TV.

After a couple of the movies I started falling asleep in mid-sentence again anyway so he made me stand up, with my slacks still around my ankles, and say my kata again. I felt delirious. Tired, horny, pathetic. It all started running together. When I had originally said all those things in my kata I had thought they were all true, but as the night went on I began realizing how true they were. They summerize my existence. Even the parts that he added at the end, which were things I never would have thought or said, I realized were the absolute truth. I AM a cunt. Nothing but a cunt. And I DO really love being a cunt. It turns me on. But it is true, too. I am just a cunt. I used to be a mother and a wife and Secretary of the Events Committee and I was so bored. Now I just want to be a cunt. A cunt who's only function is to suck cocks. It is simple, I enjoy it, and there is no reason that I can't. Sickman is right, my old life is gone so why not try something really different with my new one and just be whoever I want to be.

I was in tears at times, partly because I wanted to go to bed and stop reading it, but also because I realized the truth that my old life was gone which seemed aweful and because I felt so relieved by embracing my new life as a slut.

He put me back kneeling over the coffee table and made me show him what a good cocksucker I am by practicing on a zuchinni. That turned me on enough to keep me awake for a little while. During one of the movies a girl was giving a guy a very long blowjob and Sickman asked me if I would like a cock in my mouth right now. I figured he wanted a blow job and said "yes". But nothing happened. I turned to look at him and he had this questioning look on his face. After a while he just shrugged and went back to watching the video, so I did too. But by then I was thinking about it and the more I watch her sucking cock the more I wanted to. When I read the parts in my kata about liking to suck cock I really meant it. A while later I finally asked if the movies were turning him on. I was hoping he would say "yes" so I could offer him relief, but he didn't answer and when I looked around at him he was smiling at me, like his eyes were laughing.

Some time after that I came right out and asked him if he wanted a blowjob but he just said that the question was whether I wanted to give one.

"Yes", I said.

There was silence except for the grunting on the TV.

"Yes, I want to give you a blow job". There. Was that what he wanted? To hear me say it?

Nothing. I looked around and he was looking at me like he was expecting more. I knew then that he wanted me to beg him. But it was like a hurdle I just could not cross on my own.

"Keep talking" he said.

And that was all I needed. I was so tired and horny and I was already standing in front of him playing with myself so what did it matter? So I did it. I told him I wanted it and how good I would do it and how much I would enjoy it. But, though he seemed happy with that, he said, "keep talking"

I was running out of things to say. I started repeating myself and I don't know what all I said. And the more I said it the more I meant it until I finally started actually begging him, saying "please". Oh yeah, he had asked me "What's the magic word" which is when I started saying "please", but that made me cry. Partly from the humiliation but also from the frustration and just because I was so tired and was feeling sorry for myself.

"Tell me all about it", he said, and I just started babbling. I don't even remember it all but it was not just about sucking his cock; it was also all mixed up with stuff about my life and it all just poured out in a sobbing, blubbering mess. I thought about how ugly I must have looked but it did not seem to matter, the tears just kept coming. Oh, I remember saying over and over parts of my kata. Not reading them, just blubbering them because they seemed to best express what I was feeling.

After that emotional storm had basically passed, he told me to kneel down and gave me a big hug and started stroking my head and saying that I was good girl and everything would be okay. That was the last thing I remember.

I woke up in my own bed. There was a saucer on the bed-side table covered in cling-wrap and a note saying that he would drop by after the meeting today and that I should say my kata at least three times when I woke up and again last night. In the saucer was a puddle of runny sperm.

I did it. I licked up that cold, sick mess and said my kata over and over, more than three times, with a mouth full of old cum. It was hard to talk but I figured it didn't matter because I was knew what I meant.

Anyway, thank God Sickman came. I don't know why he is doing all this, but I don't know where I would be without him. Like the phone: I had to unplug my phone last week because so many people were calling me, either to tell me how horrible I am or to ask for a date. But like he says, how can I get a job if people can't call me. So he called the phone company and ordered a second line which will be unlisted. The phone guy is coming Wednesday to put in new line. I just wanted to cancel the old number, but he won't let me. He says I need to build a new social life so he had me change my Call Answer message to say that I would not be answering that line but gave this e-mail address for people to write to and there are already almost twenty guys who want to get together with me.

No way I am ready for that, though. My life is still really screwed up. I still don't dare leave the apartment, at least, not on foot. I am thinking I may have to move, but my lease isn't up until September so I am stuck here until then. Its awful not having any friends any more. I miss my son and I feel horrible thinking that he will never love me again. I still hope my mother will forgive me and talk to me, but I don't know if she will. I am just glad my dad did not have to see his daughter go through this. I think I will call my mom to give her my new phone number and hope she will talk to me.

Actually, thinking about it, not that much has really changed, has it? So I am getting a new phone line and Sickman SAYS that he is going to fix my job; so what? I don't think I could work there any more, anyways, and I've told him so, so I don't know what he thinks he's going to do. But despite all of that, I feel a whole lot better than I did on Thursday, that's for sure! Saying my kata helps. I don't know why. I guess it just helps remind me that what is done is done and that no matter how horrible it feels to lose my old life, it really was nothing that great, there is nothing I can do about it, and besides, my new life may be really great.

I am starting to get depressed again, so I think I had better go and say my kata a few times. But I will be writing again; Sickman says that I was lying to too many people for too long and that I need to practice telling the truth, so he wants me to keep writing these letters telling everything that happens. It is hard since I know that people who know me are reading it, but he is going to read them too, and he says he will be very disappointed if I have not included enough details and enough of my feelings.

So I guess you will be hearing from me again real soon,

Betty

Here is my Kata:

Ø My old life is over
Ø My family and friends are gone forever
Ø I may never see Chris again
Ø They are as dead to me as if a bomb had killed them all and I survived, and I must accept it.
Ø It may make me sad, but it is still true and nothing can change it
Ø When I tried to think of the best parts of my old life, I could not think of any.
Ø Chris and I have not been close in years
Ø Russell and I were miserable together and we are both happier without each other
Ø I used to enjoy my church committees but they have really been boring me lately.
Ø I hated my job
Ø Sucking cock was the most exciting thing I have ever done
Ø I really loved the excitement of sucking cock. Of being forced to suck cock
Ø I was afraid at first, but the fear was as exciting as doing it.
Ø I guess I DO like humiliation
Ø I never thought of it as something I liked, but I guess I do
Ø Sucking a dirty old man's cock is humiliating and I enjoyed that.
Ø Part of the reason I wrote into cum_on was so everyone would know what a slut I am
Ø I wanted people to know what a slut I am, I just have trouble admitting it to myself
Ø I don't want people to know what a slut I am because I am afraid they won't like me
Ø I don't really like feeling humiliated, but it turns me on
Ø I like feeling really turned on the way being humiliated does
Ø I wish I had not been drunk when those men used me behind the restaurant.
Ø I remember that for a while I was nothing but a cocksucker, a mouth to be fucked and face to be cum on
Ø I remember that I loved that feeling and I wish I could remember it better
Ø I would like to feel that way again, only sober
Ø Being on my knees doing disgusting things is the most intense thing I have ever done.
Ø I feel like I have become addicted, but I don't want to stop.
Ø I want more.
Ø I feel like such a dirty pig when I am masturbating with a face or mouth full of cum
Ø I can't think of anything more disgusting, I guess that’s why I like it.
Ø If there are more disgusting things, I think I might like them.
Ø The strongest orgasms of my life have been masturbating while spitting cum onto a plate and licking it up
Ø I never really liked sex with Russell because it was always just intercourse.
Ø I like the feeling of being used
Ø When my super cums on my face I feel like I disappear. I don't exist. I am nothing but a dirty slut.
Ø At that moment I think "God, I am NOTHING. Who am I under this face full of sperm?"
Ø I don't know why, but I love feeling like that.
Ø So my next thought is always, "I want more!"
Ø I wish I had been sober with all those guys. Maybe that would have been enough.
Ø I read the word "Sperm Receptacle" in a story. That’s what I feel like.
Ø At that moment, I am not a person any more, just a sperm receptacle. A dirty, slut-doll for an old man to use and cum on.
Ø I like that he just leaves me with cum on my face and doesn’t even thank me. It makes me feel more used.
Ø I enjoy feeling like nothing but a dirty slut
Ø Its like I become someone else, and I like her because she has an exciting life.
Ø Every time, I feel like "Maybe I shouldn't", but I cannot stop myself, so I guess I need it
Ø It is like a hunger
Ø I feel like I'd do anything to make the hunger go away.
Ø I feel like I have become addicted, but I don't want to stop.
Ø Everybody hates me for what I did and yet I want to do more. Worse.
Ø Sucking my super's cock is not as exciting as it used to be.
Ø I guess it is not as scary as it used to be.
Ø I still feel disgusting for sucking of that smelly, fat old man. I feel really sick and low.
Ø I felt out of control at first, now it doesn't. The fear was really exciting.
Ø I would like to do things that gave me that thrill again
Ø No, I cannot think of anything wrong with sucking cock.
Ø I cannot think of anything wrong with having a man cum on my face
Ø Other people might think so, but what’s wrong with masturbating with cum on my face
Ø What other people think is not important
Ø All the people in my old life are dead. Who I have in my new life is my choice
Ø I am a different person then I was a year ago
Ø I want to be with people who like the new me
Ø I'm a dirty slut
Ø I think women just don’t like sluts because they feel threatened
Ø Men probably like it that I am a slut, first because they might use me, but also just because they can look down on me.
Ø I want men to want me to suck their cocks partly because it makes me feel attractive, wanted.
Ø It feels good to know men still find me desirable at 41.
Ø It felt horrible to have a younger man reject me. It made me feel like only old men who could not get anyone younger would want me. That’s why the guys at the restaurant made me feel better
Ø No, I don’t think Chris’ age is why I am turn on by that fantasy
Ø I think I felt like I was supposed to control him, but wanted him to control me, instead.
Ø I wanted Chris to use me is because I was never good at disciplining him, and now that he is a young man and without his father around, I feel as if he is stronger than I am
Ø I feel out of control with him, and for some reason, I like it.
Ø I like the idea of my own son using me like a slut. But it would have to be by force.
Ø No one forced me to spy on him or steal his used condoms. I guess I just like doing sick things
Ø Part of the thrill was knowing he might catch me and know what a sicko his mother is.
Ø I guess the rest was just the humiliation of doing totally disgusting things. I guess I really do get off on humiliation, don’t I?

Ø I am a cocksucker
Ø I am nothing but a cocksucker
Ø I love being a cocksucker
Ø Being a good little cocksucker is all I want

Ø I am a cunt
Ø I a sick little cunt made to be used
Ø I am nothing but a cunt
Ø I am nothing but a sick little cunt made to be used
Ø I love being a cunt, a sick little cunt made to be used
Ø Being used as a sick little cunt, is all I want

Ø I am a sperm receptacle
Ø I love being nothing but a sperm receptacle
Ø Being a sperm receptacle excites me and makes me happy

From: Betty
Date: Tue Jun 19, 2001 11:00 am
Subject:

Hi.

Sickman did it! He came over yesterday afternoon and told me that they had just agreed to keep paying me until I can get a new job! I don't even have to work. He said he just explained that they had no grounds to fire me so unless they want either a very newsworthy dismissal suit or to have someone with my reputation working there, they had no choice. I can't believe it, but he assures me its true! The owner has even agreed to speak to some of his friends to see if he can find me work! I am suppose to have an interview with the owner Wednesday morning so he can tell his friends about my qualifications, so I have to fix up my resume.

Betty.

From: Betty
Date: Fri Jun 22, 2001 12:06 pm
Subject: My first "date"

Hi

I had my first "date" last night and it was great! I didn't want to do it. I did not feel at all ready, but Sickman made me. Well, he didn't force me, but he told me that he knew best and asked if he had not been right about everything else, which he has, and that it was time I started living my new life not just moping about the one I lost. Which isn't fair because I really have not been moping, at least, not much. But anyways, he'd already gone through all the e-mails I've been getting and found one he thought would be suitable, and set the thing up. He wrote to the boy, found out about what he was looking for and told him what to do. It was a boy who goes to the school my son used to go to. It seems that Erin sent my e-mails to some of her friends and by now the whole school has read them.

Great.

Anyway, this kid wrote last week and went on and on about how much he liked my e-mails and that he wished he had a mother like me because he had fantasisies about it, too. When Sickman wrote back and said that I might be willing to meet with him for a date, he got him to describe his fantasies in more detail so the kid wrote this story about how his mother catches him masturbating and basically becomes his personal whore because she thinks that masturbation is bad for his self-esteem. So Sickman -I wish he would give me something else to call him, I feel like I am talking about a superhero or something - anyway, he told the guy that I would make his dream come true and basically wrote a script for the whole thing.

The kid - oh this is silly, I will call him "Richie" - Richie showed up after school, buzzed me to get in the building and then let himself into the apartment as if he lived here. He is a skinny, pimple-faced redhead. He is only seventeen, and he looks it. My first thought when I saw him was "I can't do it." I mean, he really was just a kid. Well, I guess he really isn't any younger than Chris, but well, maybe it was just the shock of seeing how young he was. And somehow, the pimples made him seem even more like a kid.

Anyway I managed to play my role alright. I was wearing a nice, "mom" sort of dress and an apron, and I had some cookies baking in the oven. I gave him a big hug and asked him how his day had been. It all felt very silly and contrived, but Sickman had given me my script and I felt like I had to try to stick with it if only because if I had not I would not have known what to do. He managed to say his day was fine; he was obviously as nervous as I was. I was then supposed to tell him to go and have a shower. Sickman bought a new shower curtain yesterday that is basically clear with white stripes.

So after I heard the water running, I was to go into the bathroom on the pretext of bringing him the towels which I had removed earlier, but I got to look at him through the plastic. Did Sickman think that this was supposed to turn me on? It didn't. All I saw was a skinny teenager standing in the shower looking awkward. He obviously was as unused to being naked in front of old women as I was to having a naked boy in my shower. It was so awkward that I was glad I had been told what to say.

"Let me soap your back, darling" I said, pulling back the curtain. And immediatly started getting sprayed with water off his body. But I soaped up my hands and started washing him like I was supposed to and it wasn't long before the feel of his slippery skin and the perverseness of what I was doing started turning me on. And him too; when I had him turn around he was obviously embarassed to have a solid erection wagging obscenely in front of him. But by now I was starting to get into my role a bit more and managed to tell him, as I soaped his chest, not to be ashamed of it, that young men often get erections, and that he should be proud of such a nice, big cock. Which was true, it was a very nice one. At least, I certainly found I could not take my eyes off of it. I took my time washing both his legs before I actually soaped his cock and masturbated him a little, not too much because I did not want him cumming yet. When he groaned a little, I stopped and told him he could wash his own hair.

"Oh my," I said on queue, "Your clothes got wet. I'll just go put them in the dryer. I'll bring you some cookies in your room when they're ready." So I quickly mopped up the worst of the water from the floor with one of the towels and then took his clothes down to the laundry and put them in a dryer with the soaked apron.

By the time I had putted the cookies on cooling racks and changed my dress I figured he had had enough time masturbating in Chris' room and steeled myself for the next round. Carrying a tray with milk and cookies on it, I opened the door to Chris' room and tried to look shocked when I saw him sitting on the bed in nothing but a towel, masturbating while he thumbed through the stack of sex magazines that Sickman had placed half under the bed.

"Richie, what are you doing?!" I said, quoting the mother in the story he had written me even though it was quite clear what he was doing. He froze, his hand gripping his hard cock. Seeing him like that, knowing what I was going to be doing, was very exciting. Suddenly I didn't feel turned off because he was a skinny young kid, but turned on. He was stammering, unable to remember what he was supposed to say next, even though it was his fantasy we were re-enacting. I knew I ought to be helping him, but I kind of liked watching him look embarassed, his cock wilting in his hand, caught sitting in a sea of open porno magazines, surrounded by naked women.

Finally, I had mercy on him and helped him out, saying that it was okay, and that it was perfectly natural for young men to be curious about sex and then I couldn't remember any of the rest of the silly dialog we were supposed to have so I just jumped straight to the end where I tell him that masturbation is bad for his self-esteem and that I would take care of his sexual needs from now on. Then I set the tray down on the bed side table and told him to enjoy the milk and cookies while he read his magazines and that "Mommy" would take care of his needs. It was all very improbable and only vaguely what he had written, but he did not seem to mind once I went to my knees and started fondling him. I tried to go slow, but he started cumming in my mouth almost immediately.

"Thats a good boy," I said as he pumped the last few squirts out to run down over my hand. "Isn't it better to have Mommy do that for you then to do it yourself?".

He agreed that it was.

"Oh-oh, you made a mess here. Let me clean that up for you", I said and went back to work carefully licking up all the sperm, sucking it out of his pubic hair and licking his balls far more than necessary. I told him he could lean his magazine on my head, as he had in his story, and between my licking and looking at his porno, he was soon hard again.

I wasn't sure what I thought about all this. On the one hand it turned me on to be sucking that boy; I started playing with myself after a while. But it really did not feel good for him to be looking at pictures of other women, women who I know are younger, more beautiful, more shapely and just a lot sexier than I am. I felt like he did not even care about me, like I was nothing but a mouth. Which is what I was, but I did not like feeling that way. I also felt really perverse to be doing it in Chris' bedroom. I kept thinking what he thought of me and what he would think if he saw me then. But mostly, it was hearing the pages turn, knowing that he he was more interested in those women then me. Sickman says that I enjoy being humiliated, and I know that he is right, but I did not like this feeling. Maybe there are different kinds of humiliation and this was the wrong kind. I don't know.

Its like when I went for my job interview the yesterday. I went all dressed up with my resume all ready expecting to have to answer questions about my qualifications. Except the only qualification he cared about was whether I would suck his cock. The first thing he did when I sat down was open a filefolder on his desk and started looking over printouts of all my e-mails sitting as if it were my resume. I know I turned scarlet. I felt so stupid sitting there with my stupid resume in my hand, as if he cared about my job history. He asked if I had written all those letters and I don't even think I could answer him. I think I just nodded. Then he asked me if it was all true and I admitted it was. Then he said he had a number of business friends who might be able to use a woman of my qualifications if I REALLY wanted a job. "How badly do you want a job?" he asked, but his look said everything.

So there it was. He would help me find a job if I was willing to suck cock. I know that is what I had said I wanted, but somehow, now that it was being forced on me, it did not seem that exciting. It was insulting. I don't know why it didn't work in real life, but it didn't. I felt like he thought that that was all I was good for, and that he was taking advantage of me because I needed the job. Its so stupid, because that is exactly what I have been trying to get men to do to me for months now. But that was always my idea, so it wasn't real, and this was. Too real. He was sitting across his big desk grinning at me, waiting to see "how badly I wanted the job". I think the worst thing was how smug he was. As if he was so cleaver to have me at his mercy. And the thing is, I was. I DID need a job, and fast. My husband has cut off my child support no that my son has left so I really was quite desparate and with that in mind, I swallowed my pride and admitted "Really badly".

"Why don't you show me how badly...". I felt like crying, but I went around to his side of the desk, went down on my knees, and did it. I felt totally used and degraded, but I did the best job I could for him. And it did start getting to me after a while. Just the thought of actually being forced to suck that rich old businessman just so he would help me find a job. It made me feel totally pathetic, but it turned me on, too. Maybe that's the thing both with the interview and with "Richie": I feel horrible about it but I get off on it at the same time. I just don't understand how I can get excited by something I hate. Does anybody who's getting this understand it? Let me know.

Anyway, to finish off with "Richie", after a while I did start getting into it and started masturbating myself while I did it. Sickman says that any guy I blow already knows that I am a dirty whore so I should not feel any more ashamed to be playing with myself in front of him. I guess he's right, but he sure has a way of putting things. Anyway, I got into it more and more and started talking between licks, asking if "Mommy" was doing a good job for him and did he mind that his mommy was a dirty slut. He put away the magazines then and we locked eyes while I sucked and talked until he came again.

I told him he could come over again sometime. The only problem is that I am getting more and more e-mails of guys wanting dates. I don't understand how everybody is finding out about it, but I can't begin to even write back to everyone. Sickman says he is going to be my "whoremonger" and that I am going to be sucking so much cock that HIS jaw will ache just watching me. He called while I was writing this and I told him all about last night. He said he thinks I am ready for a little party and wants to have it on Sunday. God, I told him okay, but I don't know if I AM ready. I guess I just have to trust him. So far he has been right about everything even when I doubted him.

Oh yeah, and I also am supposed to go over to my manager's father's office again this afternoon supposedly to find out how he did on finding me a job but he will probably want another blowjob, too.

Like they say, "Be careful what you wish for"

Betty

From: Betty
Date: Sun Jun 24, 2001 6:04 pm
Subject: I'm a mess

Hi.

Um. I don't know where to start.

I am sitting here in what used to be my best Sunday outfit, the one I wore to church at Easter, but I am so covered in sperm that even if I had the courage to take it to a dry cleaners I don't know if it would ever come clean. The arm chair in the living room is ruined, too.

Oh, Sickman told me that since I do not like his nickname, he would like me to start calling him "my darling" or "my beloved" etc. He says I don't have to mean it. He says he just likes the contrast of hearing me call him that and him calling me "Cunt". That bothered me at first, but now I get a little thrill every time he does it.

Anyways, my darling said I had to start doing something to fill my Sundays since I don't go to church. It turns out the reason I am getting so much e-mail is because he put an ad on an adult personals webpage for me under the name Betty Bukkake, asking for volenteers to cum on me. All I knew was that he had invited a bunch of guys to come over for today for "an afternoon tea and cum party". I didn't know who they were or how many. He told me have some fresh cookies, some tea and coffee, and he brought in lots of cut flowers. I was to put on my favourite church outfit and I was to act as if it was a nice afternoon tea.

They started arriving at about 2:00. And then more. And more. Until there were I think 11 - oh, my beloved says it was 13 including him - 13 men sitting and standing around my living and dining room with tea and coffee, all looking quite uncomfortable. I was trying to be a good hostess, answering the door and making sure that everyone had a drink.