I Was An Emotional Prostitute Part 2

I think there are a few lucky people who look back on childhood as some of the most wonderful, carefree days of their lives. I, unfortunately am not one of those people.

My name is Mayone (my own) and this is my story.

I was born in the mid 60's to a couple named Von and Mary. They separated and divorced before I was two while mother was pregnant with my younger brother, Mike. My father disappeared. I didn’t see him again for over 30 years.

A few years later mother married a man named Don. Several months later, she had one last child, a boy named Marvin Wayne after his paternal grandfather. He was never called by his first name though; we always called him Wayne. I loved helping mother take care of him whenever possible.

For a few years, things were fine. Then one day, Don stopped me in the hallway, held my face, and pushed his tongue into my mouth while kissing me. I was disgusted at the time. Even now as I write this, I can feel how disgusting it felt to me. Thankfully, it only happened the one time.

 Another time, Don came to my younger brother, Mike and I one day to ask if we wanted to learn a new game. We asked him what new game. He refused to tell us until we said “yes” or “no.” I agreed right away, but my brother was hesitant so, I pleaded with him until he agreed also. Don grabbed six dice and said, “Come on.”

We all went into my room and Don shut the door for privacy. He then told us that in this game we were going to play, we would all roll the six dice. We could then stay with what we had, keep part of what we had and roll again or we could roll all six dice again up to two more times. The person with the lowest score had to take a piece of clothing off. In the end, when one person was completely naked, we would all roll the dice again, if the naked person still rolled the lowest score, the person with the highest score, got to “have their way” with the loser.

I remember losing a lot it seemed and Don was usually the winner at those times. He would then have me lie on my bed while he used a vibrator on my vagina. It always “tickled” in such a way as to make me writhe across the bed. I remember liking the sensation yet wanting to get away from it.

I should make one thing clear here; the vibrator Don used on me was not the kind you find in today’s sex shops. It was one made by a company for the specific purpose of relieving pain by “massaging” the aching part of your body. It had a tan plastic case and was about 6'l x 4'h x 2'w with a metal top, which made me think of a double humped camel.

I’m sure Mike was the lowest roller on more than one occasion; however, I don’t remember what happened to him. On one occasion Don was the loser and I was the winner. I had seen mother hovering over him one morning as he lay on their bed, so I decided to imitate her. I had him lay on my bed, climbed up over him and rubbed myself against him. I didn’t do it for very long as I didn’t really know what I was doing and I got bored with it. That was the closest we ever came to having actual intercourse at that time.

This must have gone on for several weeks if not a few months before mother found out what was happening. She learned about “The Game” when I was cleaning my room one night. I found the cord for the vibrator in my room and went to put it away. As I walked through the living room with it, mother saw it and asked me why I had it. That’s when I reluctantly told her about “The Game” we played in my room while she was at work. She told me that what had happened was wrong. When she saw that this upset me, she also told me it wasn’t my fault. It was Don’s, as he knew better. Shortly after this they separated, then he filed for divorce.

Once the story came out about the game and Don’s abuse of us, I didn’t feel totally comfortable with him anymore. One day shortly after that happened, he was sitting in a chair in the middle of the living room and asked me to come to him. I shook my head “no.” He insisted that I come to him and promised not to hurt me. I reluctantly walked over and stood next to him. He put his arm around me and talked to me briefly before letting me go. I scampered away as quickly as possible.

Don also physically abused me as a child. On more than one occasion he used a tree branch to beat me with when I did something wrong. Once he even made me go out and take a switch off the tree. I spent so long trying to do it, that he came out to get a different branch.

On another occasion Don beat me with a stick and then put it next to my dresser telling me as he did so that he was going to spank me again in the morning for the same offense! He asked me to remind him. I nodded my head in agreement. The next morning I saw the stick and ignored it. A few days later as I was cleaning my room, I quietly took the stick outside and threw it away. He never mentioned it again.

There is one incident in particular which stands out. I went to an elementary school, which was approximately five blocks from our house. I walked to and from school every day. Don always told me to come straight home after school and I always did. I just wasn’t always as quick about it as he thought I should be. He expected me home from school within 15 minutes of school ending. I was often late as I always walked home with friends and we would laugh and talk all the way to my house, then they would go on to their homes. I was late so many times that Don finally threatened to chase me to and from school spanking me all the way if I was late one more time. Shortly after that I was late coming home again and he did exactly as he’d threatened to; chase me to and from school, spanking me all the way. In later years, I started thinking that the punishment was excessive for the crime and talked to my mother about it. She didn’t agree as I had come home late so many times. I realize now that it was public humiliation, which is wrong under any circumstances.