Compulsive Promiscuity

"Don't dick me, you fuck!" I shouted. Mo just stared at me and said,

"Shut the fuck up."

Mo was sweating like a pig. The sweat was pouring off his head and spattering on my tummy. I was afraid his wig would fall off, and then we'd need another take. I could feel Sylvia was rubbing some goo on my ass. Mo wasn't paying attention to my shouts.

"Quiet on the set, action, take 2."

That was my baptism under fire. A Catholic girl does not participate in such an activity. There were two cameramen, one in front and one in the back. Mo levered his giant dick, it headed between my legs, but then, like a heat-seeking missile, veered at the last second and went right for my vag. When that beast rammed itself inside me, I let out a scream and must have passed out. I never felt Sylvia jam that dildo right up my pooper. I don't remember much more. They tell me the shoot went on for another hour and a half. That's why they call roofies* the "forget-me pill.

*(Rohypnol (also known as roofies, forget-me-pill, and R-2)

I recall Mo biting my tit and how sore my cunt and ass were the next few days. I saw the precut version on one of the stage guy's cell phones. I counted at least three times Mighty Mo fucked me, once with me on my back, once in the doggy style, and once with me on top. I also had a recollection of some bearded guy sticking his pissy dick in my mouth.

Oh shit, Dugan, who is gay, was the only bearded guy I saw on the set. A week later, Dugan came up to me in the commissary and thanked me for the blow job. I thought maybe he was kidding, but he added,

"That's the first blow job from a female since I went to the senior prom." Then he pulled out an

I- phone and there I was, naked, mouth open with Dugan's cock in my mouth. He wasn't joking.

Leo, the lighting guy, also thanked me. He butt fucked my bubble butt after the filming was over, and I'd passed out on the couch. He said I woke up before he finished and thanked him, saying,

"After Mighty Mo, any cock was a relief."

I don't believe I said that. I questioned if Leo was truthful about the anal, but my ass leaked something other than vaseline when I got home and soaked in the tub. Fortunately, he didn't show me a video until a few days later. He wasn't lying.

Dugan never paid me the $800, when I complained about the $500 I found in my bag, Dugan said,

"Collect the extra from the crew members who fucked you, next time get the money before you spread your...whatever."

That's the story I told the Shrink. How does that recitation help me straighten out my head? Oh yeah, if you want to see me in that bootleg porno called "Tight Fit." My name is Lucy Bluebonnet. Don't ask me who invented my porn name. It sounds like a vein covered cock's head.

"Gonna heal this wound I'm speaking of

There ain't no cure, There ain't no cure,

There ain't no cure for love"

(Leonard Cohen, "There Ain't No Cure For Love," 1987)

And what did my Shrink say?

"The sex you engaged in was mostly driven by others who used the date rape drug to induce your cooperative behavior. I have some questions about whether you enjoyed the situation, but you enjoy the notoriety of being Lucy Bluebonnet. Is that film available on the Internet?"

STORY 2 -- FORCED TO SUCK A COP'S COCK

What happened that night with that Sheriff was total bull shit. Not that what I'm going to relate is untrue, but it was blatantly unfair. I was having a good time at "Whiskers," a Lesbian bar in West Hollywood, also frequented by plenty of straight girls. I dyed my hair multi-colors. It looked cool, like a rainbow. I was dancing with "Low-Rain," a 6-foot tall black model who had been in the Victoria Secret commercial, the one with the Angel Wings.

I found out later Low-Rain was not a female but a trans-guy. How did I learn this? In the downstairs bathroom stall, where Low-Rain shoved her sizable dick in my mouth. I understood it wasn't her fault; that she still had a cock. I just wasn't expecting it. She did have nice hormonal breasts she wanted me to suck on, I did. Her nips were very chewie.

After the cock suck blow-job and the finger fucking, we went upstairs hand in hand. I asked the bartender for an Italian Aranciata to get rid of the cum taste stuck to the roof of my mouth. Everything seemed so right at that moment. The music slowed. A ballad by Cohen was playing with words I knew so well, I took it as a good omen.

"Everybody knows that you've been faithful

Oh, give or take a night or two

Everybody knows you've been discreet...

so many people you just had to meet

Without your clothes

Everybody knows"

Leonard Cohen, "Everybody Knows"

Would this girl/guy be the one for me? Just as the bartender handed me my drink in that pebbled glass bottle, the music stopped. The house lights went on. With the bright lights, you could see what a crummy condition the club was in—what a shit hole!

You wouldn't believe what happened next. A bunch of keystone cops, the County Sheriffs, charged in like the bulls running at Pamplona. They lined us up against the wall. Low-Rain was dragged away and frisked for drugs, not by a female but by a male who had hands-on. My Bozo Sheriff grabbed me. I had to take everything out of my pockets and bag. Of course, I had a few Xanax in there. Bozo went crazy like they were cocaine. The Sheriff dragged me upstairs by my hair, out onto the street, and walked me behind the club. Bozo was short with the need to dominate. He was round-shouldered with a noticeable belly. I got the impression he was without a heart, the perfect mix for a Los Angeles County Sheriff.

"What's your name bitch?"

"Ah, is that any way to talk, officer?"

"Are you resisting arrest?"

"No, Sir. My name is Lizzie, Elizabeth, Borden."

"You got an ID, Lizzie?

I fumbled around in my bag in the dark. Bozo shined his light in it.

"What are you doing with a pocket knife?"

He scrutinized me. I said nothing.

"Are those real tits bitch?"

I didn't answer, I just nodded. Then I found my wallet and handed Bozo my ID.

"Are you living at this address?"

"Yes, Sir."

Bozo wrote my name and address on his pad.

"I just want to be sure that if I have to come to your place to arrest you, that you'll be there."

"No need, sir, I'm an Ok person."

"How, Ok?"

"Ok. Yeah, Really, Ok."

"Are you Ok enough, Lizzie, to get down on your knees and suck my cock? Are you that, Ok?"

"Do I have a choice, Sir?"

"I could butt fuck you, but that's a little messy, and I might get one of your turds pregnant. When I come by your home, we can try that."

"No need, Sir."

I dropped to my knees like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I wasn't looking forward to Bozo's home visit.

The cop fumbled to get his cock out of his pants. It was a sad-looking prick, but I didn't say anything.

"Open your mouth wide bitch. It's suck-it time for the big guy."

Next thing I knew, Bozo had stuck his tiny crooked cock in my mouth and was pushing deeper. His left hand was inside my blouse, feeling my tits like they were llamas in the petting zoo. His right hand was forcing my head against his prick. It wasn't a big dick. Christ, the trans-girl had a much bigger dick, and her's smelled lovely. Bozo's cock was short and stunk of piss.

"Suck it bitch."

I tried, I drooled a little.

"You like sucking my big cock don't ya?"

I mumbled, "Yes."

"More, suck faster."

"Uaaga," I mumbled.

I guess I wasn't doing a good enough suck job. Bozo whacked me on the side of my head with his billy club. It was lights out. I fell forward, and my jaw clamped. Sad to say, Bozo's dick got caught in between.

Let me tell ya, hon. I came too about 30 seconds later and saw Bozo running away. I could hear him screaming. He ran to the front of the club like a mad man. A pool of blood was all over the sidewalk. My eye tooth had cut through his dick flesh and hit a vein. He dropped his notepad with my ID tucked in the fold of the pad. I picked it up and stuck it in my bag. I headed out the other side of the club as fast as I could. My white t-shirt was crimson tye-dyed. I spit out blood.

A few blocks away, I caught an Uber. Never saw the freak again. I guess one bloody blowjob was enough.

Does that story make me feel better, behh? Not really, but I'm sure Bozo felt worse.

The Shrink commented, "The cop's behavior was unprofessional and disgusting. The sheriffs are a bunch of hooligans."

"Did you feel a sense of justice in what you did to him?"

"In a way, I felt sorry for him, with his nasty, ugly dick, but I would never have bitten him on purpose.

In some twisted way, blowing that jerk brought Leonard's "Chelsea Hotel" to mind,"

"I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel

you were talking so brave and so sweet

giving me head on the unmade bed

while the limousines wait in the street"

(Leonard Cohen, "Chelsea Hotel" 1972)

I have learned how unappreciative men can be after you suck their cock. Leonard dropped the boom when he identified Janis as the cock sucker in his song. I guess it was a great promo, but it wasn't very gentlemanly. We assume he was proud of his conquest. Cohen called her a ghost, apologetically, but he didn't seem to appreciate the effort a good cock suck involves. I'm sure Janus worked hard to please him. Some guys take forever to cum, which can make a blowjob long term employment. I'll bet her bad experiences having sex with men led to her becoming a full time lesbian. I know I've turned to females when men became too much.

Still, I guess I owe Leonard. I never understood "giving head" until I heard that song. I didn't have a limo to get away in, but luckily I had my phone, and the Uber did nicely!

STORY 3 - GANG RAPED FOR A $100 BAG OF COCAINE

I met Manuel Noriagazon, "Call me Manny," a Columbian immigrant in a supermarket on Sunset Blvd. He was about my height and had one of those square heads you see on South American Indians, but good looking with dark curly hair. He was studying for his GED at the Evans Adult School up the block. He seemed like a nice guy, trying to improve himself. He'd drop by my apartment every once in a while, unannounced. He was so polite I figured he was gay. He never made a move on me.

I did notice his fingernail on his pinky finger was quite long. Did I ask why? Sure, but he changed the subject. A week or two later, he visited and brought with him a Cumbia CD. The next thing I knew, we were dancing Salsa, which utilizes the Cumbia steps. Dancing close to him, I could see that his eyes were yellow, like Big Samba, the tiger in the Los Angeles Zoo. I thought that was unique and quite attractive. I'd never seen anyone with tiger's eyes.

The next time he came over, Manny said,

"You wanted to know why my pinky nail is so long. Well, I from Columbia, the cocaine capital of the world. We like a snort of white powder, just like Yankees like a shot of whiskey.

Would you like to try?"

"Ah, I don't know, will it turn me into a drug addict?"

"Do I look like a druggie?"

"No."

"So, there's your answer."

I nodded.

"Come, we go see my guy over on Figueroa."

"Isn't that a rough area?"

"Yeah, the gangs all deal the stuff, but this is good shit."

Against my better judgment, I followed Manny down the street where he had parked an old rusty pickup truck.

"You got any money?"

"Yeah, a twenty, a ten, some change."

"Ok, I got a fifty, that will get us a quick taste. Then you know what coca is."

The sun had heated the old car, and a shiny metal spring breaking through the woven plastic seat cover was burning my leg.

"What the fuck?" I said. "Your car seat is stabbing me in the ass."

"You want long pants in this old truck, no short shorts."

"You don't like it?" I lifted my ass to show off my shorts.

"Oh, I do, your legs, ass cheeks very nice."

"I thought you'd never say, are you gay?"

"Oh no, here in LA, like in my country, many cute girls turn out to be boys."

"Has that happened to you?"

"Oh yeah."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing, it was too late to turn back."

.

We both laughed.

With the heavy noonday traffic, it took a half-hour to get to the drug dealer. Manny parked in front of a rundown bodega. It looked like a neighborhood store that had gone out of business. Someone had left the door open. Manny seemed to know the way.

I followed him up the stairs and into the store. I noticed there were several cameras mounted on the walls. We went behind the counter, where Manny parted a heavy drape that concealed a steel door and knocked hard four times. I could hear a heavy bolt slide, and the door swung open. We entered a well-lit room. Three guys were sitting on rolling chairs behind an 8 foot long white plastic table, the kind of table where the legs fold up. There was a large flatscreen television showing the security camera's footage in and around the building. The building was falling down, but the electronics were up to date.

Manny stepped forward. There was some "Rapido" talk that I couldn't follow. Then a shirtless guy, covered in tattoos, stood up. His name was Grigo; he seemed to be the boss. From their conversation in Spanish, I caught his moniker. Grigo spoke up,

"Ok, Pendejo, you got $100, or get the fuck out."

Manny turned to me. I handed him my $32. He gave it to Grigo, who counted it slowly, then threw the money down on the table. Grigo didn't look too happy.

"Ain't enough Pendejo, $30 short."

I piped up, "It's $28 short."

"Shut the fuck up bitch. I'm talking."

"So give me a little less," said Manny.

"I got a better idea. We'll fuck your big tittied gringo girlfriend for the difference."

When the other two guys laughed, I heard a loud click. They must have locked the steel door to the windowless room.

"No," said Manny, "leave her alone."

"Three fucks at $10 each, Pendejo. Now you learn not to come here and waste our time."

Grigo now had a Glock in his hand. The two other big guys in muscle shirts came around from behind the table, grabbed Manny, dragged him over to the corner, and tied him to a folding metal chair.

"Is she a good fuck, Pendejo?" said the long-haired guy.

Manny didn't respond. The inquisitor slapped him in the face.

"You be lucky if we don't shoot you in the balls," said the dark skin guy with the crew cut.

Once they'd taken care of Manny, they came for me.

"Look guys, don't hurt me, you don't have to rape me, you can fuck me, no problem."

"I like this girl."

"Could you guys use condoms?"

"Anyone got a condom?"

"Nope."

"Let me look in my bag," I said, "yeah, I got two."

"Ok, titty girl, you pick which one of us goes bareback."

Grigo interrupted and banged his pistol on the table,

"Bitch, what size are da scumbags? Cause I need a king-size one. These guys can make do with the regulars."

"Ok, ok," I pointed, "You two use the gloves. Mr. Big Dick can go bareback."

"You don't think I'm too large for your little pussy?"

"Don't worry, big guy. One size fits all." Of course, I was bluffing, but I'd downed Mighty Mo, so what the fuck."

Fortunately, the condoms were pre-lubed. The guy with the crew cut, who looked like a real gang banger, went first. His face had a nasty scar on his cheek like there was once a hole there. I took off my shorts to accommodate him. It looked like he was going to fuck me standing up. One of the other guys reached from behind me, pulled my tee-shirt over my head, and unhooked my bra.

"Look at those big titties, Rebar," said the curly-haired guy.

Afterward Manny told me he got the name Rebar when an iron bar went through his cheek on a construction site. Rebar was ready to fuck me. He dropped his shorts and shook out his dick, already partly erect from touching my breasts. I ripped off the foil from the condom and rolled it over his penis. I helped him orientate his cock to get inside me. Some guys always need a little help.

Rebar started humping me like a wild man. I was busy trying to keep the guy's cock inside me, hoping he'd finish quickly. He was jumping all over. Finally, Rebar's face turned a darker red-brown shade as he let out a shout and came. He paused for a few moments, the thrust another few times and pulled out his dick that shrunk quickly. He took my hand in his,

"Nothin honey, it didn't do nothin for you?"

"Don't worry about it, Rebar, next batter up."

The curly-haired guy, I never learned his name, had already taken off his shorts. He pulled me down on a thin mattress that had appeared from nowhere. I took the condom and rolled it on his thick cock. Curly wasted no time getting on top of me, splitting my legs apart, and grabbing my ass with his dirty fingernails.

Curly quickly found the entrance to my vagina, inserted his dick, and began hammering his chunky six inches into me as fast as possible. I was afraid it wasn't going to, but it did. I didn't have to show him the way. I think he thought sex was a marathon event. When I saw he wasn't getting close to finishing, I reached between his legs and grabbed his ball sack and squeezed. He didn't have a huge pair of nuts, but that move did the trick. He shot his load and pushed off me, pausing to bite my neck and give me a cherry hickey for my trouble.. Curly stepped back with a significant reservoir of sperm dangling from the front of the condom.

Grigo, the big guy I said I'd do bareback, stepped forward nude., his chest covered with prison tats. Other than that, he had an attractive muscular body. I felt he was sexy, especially with his hardon at a 90-degree angle. Unlike the first two guys, Grigo was homegrown. His cock looked like a weapon, the thick foreskin looked like armor, and his big balls covered with coarse black hair looked like a camouflaged tank. He pushed me down on my knees. I didn't mind his aggression, it turned me on. Some girls like it rough, not me, but his dominant behavior was appealing. He was the king of the thugs, and I was his captive. Whatever he ordered, I would comply.

"Suck it bitch."

That wasn't part of the deal, but I went for it. I didn't want to get pistol-packing Pedro mad. If a blow job hurried this whole thing on, all the better.

"Yikes," what a big dick this guy had, he wasn't kidding. I could hardly get it into my mouth. I tried to lick the foreskin so the head of his cock would slide forward and get him lubed.

"Go easy Bitch, watch dem teeth."

I tried to give him lip action and kept my mouth wide open. I finally got his big dick moist and his foreskin retracted.

"Ok, bitch, now I fuck you."

Grigo flipped me over on the thin mattress into a doggy position. He grabbed my knees and pulled me to him as he lined up his monster cock and jammed it hard against my vag, already swollen and partially lubed from the first two guy's condoms.

He seemed to be having some difficulty getting inside me. He pulled back. I heard him spit, and then his dick felt wet. I reached between my thighs and grabbed his cock to help him find the entry angle. I tried to relax my pussy enough so he could get his dick into me. When it began to slide in easier, he gave a hard thrust with his hips and god damn, he blasted through like a tractor-trailer and was immediately balls deep. My pussy awoke with the initial pain. I shouldn't have, but I started to dig it. I guess I contracted my vag because he felt the tightening.

"You a good bitch. You like my big dick in you."

Yeah, he was right. I even started to wiggle my ass like those hip hop strippers on TV. We were both enjoying it. I cried out in pleasure, hoping Manny thought it was pain. I whispered,

"Yes, yes, Grigo, oh, oh, don't stop, I'm coming."

As if a signal, my pussy juice flooded the area. Grigo kept pumping. It felt so good, and then the bastard pulled out,