Sex within the SLA

Ah, the memories!! And, the sex!!! How foolish we all were, white kids with a belief that our lives were pale and inauthentic next to the lives of black revolutionary leaders in the 1960's. Deep down, I suppose, we believed that "the revolution" was a trendy game and that all our damage would be forgiven if we were ever caught.

Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Bill Harris, former "General Field Marshall" of the Symbionese Liberation Army. I took the name, Teko, when I joined the SLA. You are all familiar, I'm sure, with the history of our movement and our activities--especially the kidnapping of Patty Hearst; but, I've never seen anyone recount the sexual activities within our group.

I recently saw Larry King interviewing Patty and she was regal, the very epitome of class and wealth. But I remember her as something quite different. Of course, her evolution from a lady to a slut was progressive over time.

I remember the occasion our group first began her sexual indoctrination. My wife, Emily (Yolanda), was smoking pot with the rest of the group when Nancy Ling Perry (Fahizah) said she felt badly about Patty being locked in the closet. They brought her out and had her sit with us. They forced her to take a few hits. It was quickly obvious to us that she was no novice to smoking pot. She sucked it deeply into her lungs like a pro, and quickly got a pleasant glow.

The girls commented on how badly she smelled. They decided to give her a bath. They took her into the bathroom and gave her a luxurious bubble bath, both rubbing perfumed soap all over her body. Yolanda stroked Patty's large breasts and bent down to give her a kiss on the mouth. Patricia was so starved for human contact and affection that it was eagerly welcomed. She enthusiastically returned the kiss and began breathing quite heavily.

Fahizah commented on her huge overgrown pubic patch. She laid Patty on the floor and had her spread her legs. She began the process of trimming and shaping the bush while Yolanda and Patty kept kissing. By now, they were both extremely turned on. Fahizah mentioned how wet her pussy had become. She put two fingers in Patty's tight pussy and captured some of her juices. She passed her wet fingers to Yolanda who eagerly licked them.

"Oh, God, I have to have some of that," Fahizah moaned. "Let's switch," she said. They alternated servicing Patty's pussy until their jaws were fatigued. Afterwards, Patty laid there limp and whimpering.

Patty was still locked in the closet for many weeks after this, and she was subjected to many humiliations such as no privacy in the bathroom and recording messages hostile to her parents. She also had to submit sexually to the men in the group--we thought it was the "comradely" thing to do.

Our leader, Donald DeFreeze (Cinque Mtume), was fond of making her suck his big black cock and cuming in her mouth. She was forced to swallow his load, which was difficult to do because it was so copious. We could tell, however, that Patty looked forward to her times with Cinque.

Cinque liked a hairy pussy neatly shaved so that's how we kept it. Patty's pussy lips over time began to protrude beyond the patch and her labia folds were open like petals on a flower. It was gorgeous. Believe me, it got a constant workout and she thoroughly enjoyed sex. It seemed like her moans and screams continually filled the house. They provided a recurring form of stimulation to the guys who, through the day and night, each took their turn one after another.

This pattern of affection and abuse created in Patty what now is called The Stockholm Effect where the victim begins to assimilate the values of one's captors.

Most of the girls in our group were either lesbian or bi before joining the SLA so their participation in Patty's transformation was welcomed. Of course, the black male members enjoyed all the women. In prison, they were attracted to psychiatric counseling not so much for rehabilitation as for the opportunity to meet female "tutors" and perhaps to obtain early release from prison.

My wife and I, in fact, first met Cinque when we volunteered our time as tutors at Yacaville Prison. From a group Cinque led in prison, the SLA was formed. We came to identify with him and his group's view of blacks as political prisoners. My wife was so passionate about their cause, and was so powerfully drawn to Cinque, that she ultimately left my bed for his.

I remember the time when I first detected her attraction to him. We were in an extended van returning to our safe house in the ghetto, driving away from a bank that we'd been casing. Emily and Cinque were seated in the very back so I couldn't see them clearly. Once, however, when I glanced in the rear view mirror, William Wolfe (Cujo) had bent down to retie his shoe laces. I watched them as they passionately embraced and kissed each other. It was obvious she was also stroking his dick.

When we returned to the safe house, they walked in holding hands. Cinque went to his bedroom and I met Emily in ours. She looked into my eyes, then she turned toward the dresser and removed her transparent nightie from the drawer. She slipped off her jeans and blouse, then her panties and bra.

Her body was so beautiful. Her pictures do not do her justice. She had long, shapely legs. Her waist was narrow and her hips flared out in a flattering manner. Her breasts, which for some reason I noticed most of all, were full and large. Her nipples protruded prominently so I knew she was aroused.

She slipped into her nightie and looked at me. "I'm going to go be with Cinque," she said. "He needs me and I feel it's my duty. His race has been so repressed for so long, we need to erase the history of shame."

I, of course, agreed with her about that and reluctantly, said: "It's alright. Go to him. Will you be back later tonight?"

"I don't know," she replied.

With an ache in my gut, I watched her open his door. He was standing naked near the bed with an enormous hardon. I watched as she shrugged off the nightie and slipped into his arms. She put her arms around his neck and they frantically kissed. Cinque picked her up and took her to the bed. He placed her butt on a pair of pillows, spread her legs, then kissed his way down from her ankles to her pussy.

I knew it had to be pleasantly aromatic since she hadn't showered first. This didn't deter him. Her hips started bucking and she began to moan. At that point, he got up, walked toward the door with his dick swinging in front of him and his balls hanging low. I noticed drips of cum clinging to his mustache. He looked at me, then began to shut the door. I took one more glance at my wife lying there with her legs spread, playing with her clit and her pussy looking more beautiful than ever.

God, the man had endurance. I listened at the door for 40 minutes while my wife screamed, the bed springs squeaked, the bed posts bounced, and the headboard rattled the wall. The memory of his huge tool and his hanging balls; and the thought of what they were doing to my wife, had me hard as a rock.

I finally heard him groan and loudly mutter, "Oh, fuck, baby!! I'm coming!! Oh, God!!" His pace picked up and the clatter of the bed got faster and louder.

At this point, I returned to my dark room with the door slightly ajar. Soon their door opened and my wife came out nude cupping her hand between her legs to keep the cum from dripping onto the floor. Her hand was covered with cum and it was dripping down the insides of her legs.

I glanced into Cinque's room. He was lying on his back smoking a cigarette. The light was low. I saw his dick lying on his balls and down between his legs. It was wet and so big. He looked my way but I'm not sure he could see me. I heard the toilet flush and quietly crawled atop my bed in hopes Emily would join me; but, instead she returned to his room and shut the door. Throughout the night, I heard them making love again and again.

In the morning, I heard them shower and shortly Emily came into my room for clothes. I had hardly slept. She came next to me naked and sat on the edge of the bed. I ached to touch her, to hold her and suck her breasts--to eat her used pussy. I didn't care. But, she said she wouldn't be coming back. It hurt so damn bad. Still, deep down I understood and even agreed intellectually with her decision.

In retrospect, I now realize what damn fools we all were. What a waste we made of our lives. Yet, in hindsight, these sexual events bring back the most pleasant recollections for me. Among them all, the most vivid memory that has been burned into my eyes is the image of my wife just prior to going into Donald's room, and it is the one image I have jacked off repeatedly to ever since.