Compulsive Behavior

"Yes . . . yes . . . Uncle . . . ag . . . yes . . . do . . . help . . . aggg . . . " I realized I was speaking incoherently, continuously, not even understanding my own words.

"I'll be your uncle, little girl. What's your uncle's name?" he said thrusting extra hard as I grunted. When I didn't answer he pulled out until only the bloated head remained inside. I rotated my ass, searching its fullness again, but he held back. "The name?" he insisted.

"Zeke," I muttered, defeated. "Uncle Zeke."

"Good. From now on, I'm Uncle Zeke. Tell me. Do you want Uncle Zeke to let you cum now?"

"Yes! Please! Please."

He used his fat cock like a jackhammer, bruising the tender tissue of my vagina walls, pushing it relentlessly aside as he plowed forward, stretching it wider to accommodate his thickness. Between our legs I could see his hairy balls swinging under us, looking like coconuts ready to fall. I reached back and grasped them, squeezing lovingly, whispering, "Yes, Uncle Zeke. Yes."

He had tremendous staying power the second time around, bringing me to another, and then yet another mind-blowing orgasm. It was the first time I'd ever had multiple orgasms. He finally reached a point of no return and also came, shoving a wide thumb into my puckered anus as he shot his load, splashing against my cervix like a water hose. My ass wet and sloppy with our combined fluids, I continued to slowly rotate it against his slimy belly-fat long after his cock grew soft, savoring the comfort it gave me, knowing that soon I'd have to face what I'd just done.

As his limp cock slipped from my battered vagina, it felt rawer than even before, possibly torn. Grunting with effort, he stood and as a final act of degradation wiped his wet cock on my ass cheeks, displaying his contempt for me. That was fine. I was a slut. No better than a bitch stray-dog.

I felt sick. Just like I had after each time Uncle Zeke had used me. I watched as the fat man ambled away, leaving me to drag my aching body up and get dressed. I found my yellow shoes and located a small bathroom, one almost as filthy as its owner. I pulled the once pretty, but now soiled dress over my head, horrified as I looked into the broken mirror.

My hairdo had been totally destroyed, my face streaked with tear tracks and smeared with mascara! I was a total wreck! I suddenly remembered my appointment, searching frantically inside my purse for the cellphone. I spoke with the secretary, quickly making some lame excuse for missing the meeting, rang off, and then attempted to repair the damage. I used tissue to clean the worst spots off my dress, and fresh lipstick helped a little.

As I weakly stumbled toward the front of the store, my pussy felt so sore and swollen that I could barely walk! "Uncle Zeke" stood near the door, smirking coldly, his tiny mean eyes shining unnaturally.

"The next time you come, Uncle Zeke's gonna butt-fuck you. Fuck you up that tight little virgin asshole, you think's so fine." He laughed, his belly quivering. "Hell, you may even learn to like taking it like that."

Almost in hysterics, shaking my head frantically I opened the door and stepped through to freedom. "No. No more. I won't be back. Ever!" I almost ran, getting away from there.

I heard him laughing as I tentatively made my way back to where I'd parked. Near exhaustion from my ordeal, I soaked for an hour in the tub that night. I felt sore for days - like a used whore.

Nothing happened for a couple months. I vowed to never let myself be in that situation again. Fortunately, the branch meeting was cancelled the following month so I didn't even have to see the damn store again either. The night before my next branch meeting I went to sleep dreading the next day's appointment. I awoke the following morning already thinking a

bout my earlier debasement by that repulsive fat man. In fact, it had been in my restless dreams. My face burned with shame as I recalled how I'd called him "Uncle Zeke," begging him to use me, seeking my pleasure from the most repulsive man I'd ever known - and how terribly sore and utterly disgusted I'd been afterward.

Parking my car in the usual parking lot, I walked past the antique store totally ignoring it, but in my mind, reliving that awful experience in its entirety. Remembering how the fat man had threatened to "butt fuck" me, my sphincter involuntarily clinched tightly.

Shivering with dread, my legs trembling, and my mouth suddenly dry as cotton I lengthened my stride until I was well past it, though still shuddering with revulsion. His thumb inserted back there had been painful enough. If he'd actually forced his immense cock inside my butt-hole instead, it would've torn me apart - maybe even have killed me.

All through the meeting I had difficulty focusing of the speaker's material. My mind raced wildly inside my head; images of me on my knees having my hair pulled, being slapped me in the face by his fat cock as I desperately sought to capture it with my mouth - his slimy-wet blubbery fat resting on my ass cheeks while he recovered from his orgasm, the relentless pounding I'd received and the awful soreness that followed. I also thought about the disgust that followed, the humiliation I'd suffered, and how he'd degraded me by wiping his nasty cock on me, making me feel like a cheap whore.

Squeezing my thighs tightly, unnoticed by others at the conference table, I felt them squishing together in my unwanted juices. I valiantly fought the intrusion, trying harder to focus on what the speaker was saying, praying for it to end. Catching just a faint whiff of female sex I also prayed no one at the conference table had an over-sensitive sense of smell. If they did, I was busted!

I finally chastised myself sufficiently enough that I was able to present my portion of the briefing without faltering. Then quickly stuffing things back into my briefcase, I exited, mumbling something about commute traffic.

After the meeting wrapped-up I headed back to my car, once again approaching the antique store with a sense of foreboding, my anxiety level skyrocketing as soon as it came into view. As I walked past, it took all my will-power to keep from looking inside. I knew if I did, I was lost.

Weak and trembling I made it to the end of the block and paused, taking a moment to close my eyes and lean against a building in an attempt to regroup. I was still having trouble breathing, my heart-rate at an unbelievable level - my panties sticking to me.

Stop it! I shouted inside my head. Stop . . . the . . . fuck . . . it! An elderly woman passed by and gave me a puzzled look, and I forced a smile in return. I simply had to get a grip on myself!

Deep in a mental quagmire, I walked past the store two more times before I finally just opened the door and went inside. "Uncle Zeke" sat on his familiar stool leering at me as I approached, causing my stomach to lurch. My face was burning like fire, my legs weak and trembling as a foreign entity took control of my body. A single drop of moisture escaped my sopping panties and slid down the inside of one thigh, making me finally realize the futility of more resistance.

"Hi, little girl. Come back to get some of what I promised you?"