From the files of Cleo.
Note: I have been asked by several of my fans if "Seeking Gratification" is another story about a client from one of my files. My answer is this. It is "from" one of my clients, but not "about" one of them. I'll explain. Stacy (I promised to use only her first name) is undoubtedly the prettiest female client I I've had to date. She is an Army vet with two deployments to a war zone. I saw her for nearly a year about issues she had related to one of her deployments, not necessarily of a sexual nature.
It has been my experience after dealing with other clients who are vets, that war can render unwanted changes in personalities, causing unwarranted feelings of survivor's guilt – and sometimes even things that run much deeper. Stacy's problem is that she feels guilty about how "lucky" she is, unworthy of the many accolades and kudos she receives daily. Being beautiful only adds to her feelings of guilt. We should all have her problems, right?
During that time we became pretty good friends and I told her that with their permission, I sometimes write stories for this website, based upon previous client's experiences. Stacy expressed unusual interest in that news and at one point when she voluntarily discussed bedtime fantasies she and her husband share, she gave me a vague outline of one fantasy she'd probably never share with him - but someday hoped she had the courage to. She warned me it was sick and degrading but that each time she fantasized about it, somehow her guilty feelings were lessened afterward, regarding her "near perfect" life.
That is the story you read here. She asked me to write it for her, and I had her put it on a recording first so I'd get it right. It was in such stunning detail that I changed very little of what she gave me, using most of it verbatim, even the detailed, fantasized conversations with others. She used some of my analysis remarks and as I scrutinized it later, I concluded that on some level she may even believe some of this actually happened to her. Things of this nature are complicated.
My husband and I often engage in some pretty kinky roleplaying, but even after being in this career field for a number of years I am still stunned by such dark thoughts trapped inside the head of a person as stunningly beautiful as Stacy. My only reward is that I received a call months later from her, thanking me for what I had done for her. She said that after re-reading her story countless times, she had finally shared her fantasy with her husband and that they were now closer than ever. Sometimes I get lucky and can help some lost soul.
A few readers have already criticized Stacy for being a "fool" and a "worthless slut," etc." I hope most will try to understand her a little, and the turmoil she must've suffered to bring her to this point. All of us should thank her for her service. If you read this Stacy, God bless you.
Seeking Gratification Three
I know there are people who will hate me for what I'm writing. That's okay. I hate myself. I've never known a single person who actually hated me before, but just knowing there are strangers out there who will now, makes me terribly sad. I didn't start out to hurt anyone. I'm a victim. Somehow the rape broke something important deep inside me and I don't know how to fix it. My shrink said when I was raped at such a young age, before I knew anything of the emotional aspect of the sexual act, the immense pleasure I derived from the trauma had set off certain triggers in my physic.
Because I discovered those "vile" pleasures while being constrained and helpless, my damaged physic "expects" me to be helpless now in order to achieve the same results. She said that somehow, being held down and helpless relieves me of all guilt and the shame associated with enjoying this forced sex so much. Pretty deep stuff anyway. I still don't understand it.
What I realized as I lay on that dirty concrete floor was I'm not the same person I was only a few days earlier. I'm not the cool, efficient attractive person everybody liked and said they admired. I'm this piece of trash lying in a pool of semen on the floor of an old jail in the middle of Hell. I don't blame John Ross for my situation, either. This was my own fault.
I don't even know how many times I climaxed with those local guys day. More than any "normal" person, that's for sure. I once read an article in a medical magazine about a woman who suffered constant orgasms. If people envy her, they shouldn't. She said it was hell for her and she wished to simply die. Lying there, exhausted, emotionally drained, hardly able to stand, I knew if one of those dirty goat herders walked over and shoved his cock in me again I'd be moaning like a bitch in heat in a matter of minutes.
I was sick to my stomach, as well as mentally.
I lay as motionless as possible, watching the three robed men seated on the floor a few feet away, playing some kind of ancient game. I didn't know how long I'd been out, and was afraid to draw their attention by moving. I felt stiff and sore - and filthy. Ali glanced up unexpectedly and I was suddenly staring right into his black eyes. He said something to the others, stood and walked over. Taking a wrist in each hand, he rolled me onto my back, pinning them to each side of my head. Then, smiling down at me, he knelt on my wrists, opened his robe and dangled his half-limber cock over my face.
As soon as he'd re-grasped my wrists with his hands, he leaned forward until his cock's purplish crown was brushing my sealed lips. I tried turning my head but his knees held me firmly in place. Among other times best not known, I could smell our earlier sex on his penis, rich and pungent. Despite the humiliation and disgust I was feeling, I was also fighting the turmoil beginning to rage within me again, and an unwanted wetness slowly seeping between my tightly clamped legs – as an unholy lust surged through me like a flood. I opened my lips and let the large head slip inside. My feeling of helplessness had triggered that monster inside me again. Like I said . . . sick.
Almost swooning, I wrapped my lips around the bloated head and slowly slid my tongue all over it, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Ali and causing the others to stare at us. I gazed up at him and saw his smile had grown dreamy and his eyes were filled with emotion. Jeeeez, I thought. Don't tell me this ape is falling in love with me. Then all rational thought faded as I started to gently suck his dick. Soon, Ali was buried deep in my throat like before and he was literally face-fucking me again.
I heard someone stand, rolled my eyes to see who it was, and found the old guy alone. Skinny was missing. Then I felt a hand probing my vagina, smearing my juices all over my crotch. I lifted a bit to help him, to capture a finger inside me, and suddenly a searing pain nearly doubled me up. Rolling my eyes downward as far as they would go, I saw Skinny holding a broom handle. He was savagely attempting to get it inside my anus.
Squealing around my mouthful of hard cock I twisted, fighting against Ali's penetration so I could protest the invasion, but I had no chance. The end of the handle finally slipped inside and I felt it traveling as far as it would go, only stopping when it hit something tender. He began fucking me with it. It lasted an eternity, but finally was gone, though the pain lingered.
Someone roughly pushed my legs apart and rolling my eyes downward, I could see it was the old bearded guy holding his unnaturally fat cock lined up to enter me. The sight initially made me clinch tight, but then I relaxed, eagerly lifting up my ass to help him. I gasped around Ali's cock when the old guy slid his bloated cock-head through my slit, like a knife cutting through soft butter. Top-to-bottom, over and over, hitting my clitoris each time he did it.
By the third or fourth time, the pain from Skinny's assault had almost completely dissipated and I was twisting my ass in an effort to capture the deformed old cock inside me. I remembered how much it had hurt earlier, but my need was overpowering and I simply didn't care. He laughed shortly at my humiliating and futile attempts to be filled.
I was nearly panting with my urgency, when Old Guy roughly pushed my knees forward, mashing them against my breasts, and holding them there as he pressed his elephantine penis against my puckered anus. No, I wanted to plead! Not there! Twisting my small body I squealed around Ali's cock, but they ignored me. I hadn't even noticed Skinny was beside me until he tugged on my nipples so hard they hurt. That was nothing compared to the pain now being generated from my rear passage. I was on fire.
I heard the old guy spit, felt something wet hit my ass-cheeks and him rubbing it on my tortured anus. At least it was soothing, as was the warm, unmoving cock inside my oral cavity. More pain quickly followed though as he inserted what I thought might be his finger, a nail scrapping me – and then two fingers. My squealing grew louder around Ali's cock. Ross, you motherfucker! Help me, I mentally pleaded. But no help came. Just more pain. Unbelievable pain. Ripping, tearing, scalding pain of the worse kind, mainly because it was in such a tender, unnatural place.
Before his cock was half-way inside, I was in so much agony that I believe I blacked out for a time. My first recollection was that Old Guy's belly was pressed tightly against my upraised ass-cheeks, and he was gasping for breath. Fleetingly, I hoped he'd die of a heart attack.
Ali was still in my mouth but still motionless, apparently enjoying my debasement as Old Guy had forced his deformed cock inside me. The pain wasn't as bad right then but when he moved a little it returned. He began to slowly ease his knobby cock out of my grasping anus as I gritted my teeth gratefully, hoping my ordeal was finally over. It was like having the biggest bowel-movement of my life!
Hope was short-lived for the flared crown remained inside me as he just as slowly shoved it all the way back in until I felt his stiff groin hairs against my cheeks. Eventually, he fell into a slow rhythm, in-and-out. As soon as he did, Ali picked it up and I tasted his pre-cum beginning to coat my mouth again – exciting me almost to orgasm.
The fierce pain in my rectum was now just a dull ache as Old Guy slid his fat cock in and out, flexing it occasionally and grunting. "I gave you a baby in . . . your belly . . . and Ali gave you one . . . in your mouth. Now I will give you one . . . in your ass-hole," he chuckled loudly. He repeated it in Arabic and they all had a good laugh. Then his face grew serious as he began to fuck me in earnest.
I wasn't actually enjoying it, but it wasn't really painful either. In fact, being butt-fucked only added to the feeling of helplessness and debasement as I slobbered on Ali's throbbing cock. Old Guy abruptly pulled out of me and jabbered something to Ali and Skinny. I was pretty sure he hadn't cum, for I would've felt it. Skinny replaced Old Guy between my legs, unexpectedly slamming his cock into my gapping vagina so hard I cried out with something that resembled joy.
The other two helped roll me over so I was on top of Skinny now, face-to-face with him. Wrapping his dirty fingers in my tangled hair, he forced my head down and crushed my mouth against his, sticking his evil tongue all the way to my tonsils. With him hammering into me from below, I soon forgot about his bad breath and rotten teeth, willingly sucking his tongue, answering urgently it with my own. As soon as I was in position and responding, Ali jerked my face away from Skinny and reinserted his jerking cock into my seeking mouth, and I chomped down on it hungrily.
I was in heaven and nothing else mattered in the world - just the two cocks of these dirty strangers. I could've stayed there forever, as firecrackers began to ignite deep in my soft belly. That was before Old Guy slammed his cock back inside my anus! I tried to scream, squealing loudly, to no avail, as the three of them began fucking me with a vengeance! I was completely immobile, helpless as they plummeted into me with savage abandon. Helpless - raped again. The words kept running through my mind – exciting me as never before. The monster inside was growing, begging for release. I felt that release growing rapidly inside my belly.
I was whimpering and trying to help them, my elusive monstrous climax building deep inside! They were all going to cum in me. Dirty filthy cum, running out of everywhere – so good – so good - so nasty! I began shuddering as the first climax hit, and then shaking apart in pieces as more followed. I tasted Ali's watery sperm shooting into my mouth, stinging my tongue, sliding down my throat, my chin, running everywhere. Skinny and Old Guy came next, splashing their vile fluid inside each orifice. I felt it bouncing off my tender cervix, the walls of my bowels, farther triggering continuous orgasms until blackness finally overtook me.
When I became aware again I was lying on my back in a pool of cool semen. My face was sticky, my crotch was sticky, and my entire body ached with fire, including my anus. It was raining on me - warm and soothing. I opened my eyes and saw Skinny standing over me, grinning. He was pissing on me. Oh swell. Well, go ahead and piss on me, I conceded. I deserve it. I watched his strong stream as it slowly diminished to a trickle. I'd had that cock inside me everyplace it'd fit for hours now, drinking his sperm, licking his dirty balls and even his ass-hole. A little piss certainly wouldn't kill me. As he finished, he shook off the final two drops and made it disappear back inside his robe. He spit on me and walked away.
Old Guy squatted beside me, gazing at the mess Skinny had made. He grinned. "Not such a pretty American girl anymore now."
I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself but my mouth wouldn't work. I was too tired to even form the words. I watched in horrified fascination was he extracted his grotesquely bloated cock and aimed it at my face. I barely had time to shut my eyes before his splatters hit. When he finished he said, "Name our baby, Mohammed."
The he walked away, and I saw Ali standing behind him, a sad look on his face. Then he also turned and left, and a minute later I heard their footsteps receding on the wooden stairs. The tomb-like silence of the great chamber soon lulled me back to sleep.
I felt fingers on me and groaned. They were bad, I thought listlessly. My eyes burned behind their lids, which were plastered together. When I finally got them unstuck enough to open, I saw Ross knelling between my legs, apparently inspecting me. He glanced up, smiling when he saw I was awake.
"Looks like you had a good time."
I sat up abruptly, scurrying away frantically on my butt, too weak to stand. "You motherfucker! I screamed at him.
"Show a little respect. I'm your CO," he said calmly.
"You're a rotten motherfucker, John Ross!" I screamed again.
That made him smile, staring down at me. "Have you even used that word before?"
I glared back. I hadn't ever used it. I'd never been angry enough to use it before, but I'd never admit that to him. Hot rage pumped through me and if I'd had my .45 I'm not sure just what I'd have done at the moment.
"Why?" I yelled. "Why did you let them have me like that? Like I was some animal or something? Why?"
"Well . . . for one thing, I knew you needed it . . . and they paid well."
That got through, stunning me silent for a moment. "Paid?" I finally whispered. "They paid . . .?"
I slumped forward as his words finally soaked in, too near exhausted to react further. I was officially a whore, then. I'd sunk as far as I could go. Tears spilled over and sobs racked my dirty body for several minutes.
"The old guy is really rich," Ross was saying, as though attempting to placate me. "He gave me a bundle. Half of it's yours."
Swell. A high-paid whore, at least.
"I came by a couple of times and looked in to make sure they didn't hurt you. Each time it appeared you were doing just fine," he grinned. "All three of them at once? I couldn't believe that!"
My face burned, and I looked away. "I want to go home," I muttered. "Back to my life."
I knew he was just ridiculing me. "I love my husband. Nothing will change that."
"If you really love him, don't put him through what's going to happen when you get back there – if you really do go. You think you can go home after this, as if nothing ever happened? Back to vanilla sex twice a week? Sans orgasms? You'd be climbing the walls in a month. In two, you'd be walking the streets looking for someone to give you more exactly like this. Extend your tour and stay here. That's best for you."
"Stacy, I just extended for a year. The Brass is so happy they've found someone who likes this shit-hole that I can probably stay until the war's over. They told me to pick my own team. Stay with me. We'll have this old place for as long as we want, to do anything we want!"
"You're fucking crazy," I mumbled.
"Think about it for a couple days." He held out his hand to help me stand. "Come on, there's a water-bladder on the first floor where the local cops bathed. Let's get you cleaned up. Your clothing is still fresh, so all anybody will know is that you're been on Special Assignment for a day."
On the way back to HQ, Ross told me to take a day off and rest up, think about his offer to extend. No one questioned the special assignments story. I slept right through dinner and late into the following morning, missing PT. I went to late breakfast and had just sat down when Margie came up holding a coffee cup.
"How did your 'special assignment' work out?" she asked sarcastically. She said the word "special" like it was a dirty word.
I didn't look up. "Fine."
Suddenly, she looked very sad. "I'm sorry, Stacy. May I sit down?"
"Sure. Help yourself."
She sat, her large blue eyes wide and moist, staring at me. "I love him, you know?"
We both knew she meant Major Ross, so she didn't bother to answer. "I knew I was less than nothing to him, but doing what I did let me be close to him." She grinned ruefully, "Besides, I like sex."
I still didn't say anything, so she went on. "I'm leaving in a couple days, back to Fort Huachuca. Bound to happen. I'll probably get out. I've had three tours."
That shocked me. "But Margie, you're a Staff Sergeant! With what, ten, eleven years in? Why?"
"You've always been nice to me, Stacy. You're nice to everybody. You wouldn't be able to find one person on this compound who'd say a bad word about you. Not many people like me that way. I've accepted too many favors. Don't become like me." She smiled sadly. "I said I like sex. I've done it with a hundred guys, some old, some young, pretty much any race. I love it all. Even some girls. I'm Bi. Sex with our CO was the most awesome, by far."
She reached across and laid her hand on mine. "Have you ever made love to a girl, Stacy?"
I swallowed hard, wanting to withdraw my hand. "No."
"If you ever want to, let me know. I often fantasize about doing you." She laughed. "Hell, every guy and half the girls in camp pant after you."
Too much information! I was having a little difficulty breathing, the whole idea new to me. Suddenly her large blue eyes and pouty lips took on a whole new meaning for me. I noticed my hand trembling a bit as I picked up my coffee cup to sip.
"Have considered extending?" I blurted out with thinking.
She smiled prettily and I really saw how stunningly beautiful she was. No wonder Ross went after her. "Are you asking me to?"
I didn't answer. I picked up my tray and she followed. Outside, I suddenly said, "If I share a secret with you, will you swear yourself not to repeat it?"
She looked very serious as she said, "I'd never do anything you didn't want me to, Stacy. I mean that."
"Okay, let me tell you about an old jail. Maybe you can help me inventory it."
Jul 4, 2018 in anal