I first became aware of my pussy’s power when I was 14. I was just developing- fine brown fuzz had sprouted between my legs, my breasts were swelling gently to ripeness and the lips of my fanny were starting to hang down just that little bit more. Maybe it was this that released their scent, maybe it’s just in the nature of the male but I noticed I was getting a lot of longer looks from the men and boys I passed on the street. They were more interested, more appraising and I saw their eyes run up and down my body, sliding greasily over my burgeoning curves. They would sniff just a little, without even realizing they were doing it and I would see them moisten their lips before looking away- realizing they had been seen.

The worst of these was my step-dad John. My real dad had been great- we had played and laughed- he helped me to ride my bike and swim in the creek, but he had died suddenly when I was 10. That was hard, Mum and I struggled, there was no money and although I tried to help, Mum still found it almost impossible to cope. It got so that I was woken at night, first only once or twice but then every night and sometimes several times each night by the creaking of mom’s bed. Low whispering voices with the booming resonance of a man. Sometimes a slap or a whimper, but mostly just creaking on the stairs, creaking in mom’s bedroom and then silence. Sometimes there was a guest for breakfast but usually, whoever these nocturnal visitors were, they were gone by morning. Money didn’t seem to be such a problem now.

Then there was one guest- I paid little attention to him and went off to School as usual, but he was there the next morning and the next, until he was there most days and Mom said his name was John and I should call him “Dad”. I got a new bike and there were no other guests at breakfast. That was how my stepfather came into my life, he never seemed to like me, but he made Mom happier and the bed carried on creaking every night- and also now some mornings. When mom was out he was downright rude, I think inside he was a bit of a bully. Once, I saw him with another woman outside a bar as I rode past on the bus- midday and already in the bar? Things went on fairly well though- well that is until he lost his job and then it took a real turn for the worse. Mom and “Dad” were fighting nearly everyday, the creaking in the bedroom seemed to be accompanied by slapping and mom looked like she had been crying most all of the time. We were short of money again, some men came and took the car- didn’t bother me as I was never went anywhere in it anyway, but I was more concerned when they took the TV too.

…And all this time I was growing, developing, changing and when I hit 14 it happened. Mom had been called away to Aunt Sally’s- she was real ill and wasn’t expected to survive. I had been left alone with “Dad” for three days now. Day one had been fine- we had spoken and he had fixed dinner, day two I made my own food when I got in from School and he sipped a beer leering over his glass. Day three we hit rock bottom- he was pretty drunk, spent all the time watching TV in his old blue jeans and dirty tank top. I saw him lift his head and sniff as I came into the house but he said nothing. Empty beer cans were strewn around the house, there was no food in when I got home so I fixed a bowl of cereal and went to my room to study.

About an hour later I heard staggering footsteps on the stairs, he belched in the hall outside my room. The door just flew open – there was no knock. The man that entered my room looked strange, there was a wild look to him, his eyes seemed to be bulging, the pupils were dilated. I saw damp stains on his old faded jeans, he belched again and I was scared.
“OK bitch- Moms away and its no good teasing now”
I didn’t know what he meant- I’d never teased???
“Don’t act the innocent, I can smell you!! Every day all the time, your smell is driving me mad! I know you’re hot now it’s your turn”
I didn’t know what he meant but I soon caught on- he advanced across the room towards me- grasped my hands above my head with one strong hairy arm. He pushed me backwards against the bed even whilst slapping me sharply with his free hand. My face smarted under the onslaught and I gasped with shock-he had hit me! Pain flared in my face, my cheek reddened with the weal and I felt a slight trickle of warm blood at the corner of my mouth. My legs encountered the bed and tripped me, I fell back onto the blankets. He seemed to be delirious- there was slobber at the edges of his mouth, guttural sounds came from his throat- maybe these were words somewhere- in some backward and brutal planet in the Universe, but here they were just grunts of animal need and desire. His hands suddenly moved to my waist, my skirt was torn away and I felt the cold air on my thighs. He was slowed suddenly by the sight of my 13yr old pussy in its pink cotton housing, a budding camel toe clearly visible. He groaned and grabbed my hips, burying his face between my thighs and drinking deep of my scent. I could hear his labored breathing as he sucked as much of my aroma into his lungs as he could cram in. The molecules of pussy-perfume entered his bloodstream, like a drug they aroused, enraged and enthralled simultaneously; he became almost delirious with lust, growling and cursing in equal measure.

Then he moved again- my blouse was ripped open- my blue lace trimmed “early-starter” bra suddenly on show. I screamed- another slap and I stopped moving. My panties were torn away, the he lifted me up, fumbled behind with the fastening of the bra, then growled in rage and tore that off too- hurting my chest as the stringy garment resisted before it parted at the clasp. His face fell to my pussy again, licking in my scented juices, and then he crushed my breasts beneath his face as his mouth found my nipple and sucked hungrily at my burgeoning boob. I felt the tit flesh respond and yield to him, rewarding his rude invasion with a gentle secretion. My nipple tingled as the fluid was released and he lapped it like a starving man, squeezing my breast to force more flow. In the space of 10 minutes I had been assaulted, immobilized, stripped and harvested. Tears started down my face as he grunted and levered his bulky body onto the bed to lie on me, squashing me beneath his hairy bulk. There was no preamble, no foreplay, no consideration – his thick prick slipped between my thighs as his pubic hair scratched my abdomen.

“Open up!” he roared in a rush of beer laden breath and BO. I saw his eyes, almost sightless, rolling in his head. I whimpered and he hit me again. After that I just lay there as he reached down with one hand and levered my legs apart. To my surprise I found I was already moist, and even I could smell the air heavily laden with my musky scent.

I felt his prick move up towards my pussy and poke roughly at the tender crinkled lips surrounding the entrance to my sex. I tensed up, my muscles automatically clenching to resist entry. There was a growl of pure frustration followed by a massive thrust forward- his whole body tensing with the effort as I felt the result- a spearing, burning pain between my legs, another growl and another massive thrust, I felt my vulval lips part and open under the onslaught. I was stretched, opened, torn and violated – my own blood mixing with my secretions to lubricate his entry. The pain was intense. I felt the intrusion moving upwards with each thrust, up, up, opening my vaginal canal, stretching, scalding as it did so.

I prayed silently to myself… “Please, please, please let it stop, let it go away, let it all be over!”

That is when it started! I felt the pain ease; the stretching seemed to reduce. Each thrust seemed to stretch me less, the weight on top of me lessened, lessened and lessened again. The torment in my vagina was easing greatly. To my amazement the body on top of me seemed to be shrinking, in size, contracting, retreating from my chest, from my legs, concentrating around my waist, my abdomen, my pussy. My eyes were tight-shut. I clenched my fist and whimpered, shivering on my bed.

Some time later I realized I was alone, I was lying on my bed, drenched in sweat. My pussy was sore and there was a bloodstain on the blanket. I was tired and confused- I sobbed and pulled the covers up, rolled over and slept.

I slept late- I awoke around 11- no-one had come to my room, no bellows to get my lazy bitch self out of bed, nothing. The house was silent. I got up- no sign of John. I checked the rooms- all empty, Maybe he had gone out? A tingling sensation between my legs reminded me- What had happened last night?? I was still sore, there was blood on the bed, I hadn’t imagined it.

A key rattled in the door- I tensed but as it opened it revealed not the hated assailant but Mom! With a cry of relief I rushed to her and hugged her, drinking in her reassuring scent. Aunt Sally was better and Mom was home!

“Hello honey- she asked- what’s up? Are you ill? Why aren’t you at school?” and then “Where’s John?”
“I don’t know I replied truthfully.

Mom went to unpack and sort out, I went back to my room, took a shower, washing myself carefully between my legs in case it was sore- the water felt good. Then I pulled on some fresh panties, got dressed, and went downstairs again.

“Late breakfast honey” said mom, “Lets call it lunch, but if there’s nothing wrong then you should go to school this afternoon huh? “

“OK” I said, settled down to eat the cereal she offered me, but there it was again the tingly feeling between my legs, I crossed my thighs and squeezed to contain the sensation.

The afternoon passed uneventfully enough, I mumbled some excuses for missing the morning session, did my lessons and then got changed for games. My performance on field wasn’t up to my usual standard, I was sore, and a couple of times I distinctly felt a tickle in my pussy but it wasn’t too sore and so I ignored it. After an hour’s frantic running around I returned to change back into my school clothes and go home. There was an intense tingling as I crossed the field back to the pavilion, and then the distinct feeling of passing something from my pussy. It felt like a pea had suddenly appeared in my pants. I rushed to the changing cubical and stripped off. That’s when I started to understand, because there, crumpled into a pea-sized lump and nestling in the soft scented gusset of my pants, was a tiny object. I picked it out of its cotton cradle and looked more closely- teasing it apart, unfolding opening- and then a gasp of horror. In my hand, scarcely a half centimeter long, I held a pair of blue jeans and a tiny tank top that would not fit even a Barbie doll!

There was a rush of recollection, the events of last night, the pain, my prayer and the lessening, reducing of the weight and pain. I had pleaded with God to take him away, to make it stop and He had. The pain had got less, the weight had gone and I remembered now with increasing horror how it had gathered on my tummy and then silently followed the invading prick to become sucked into my body. As I thought now I wondered if I actually remembered a faint cry that became ever more shrill and ever more desperate as it lessened to become fainter and fainter, eventually to be stifled in a soft popping sound. As if to convince me there came that tingling feeling again. He was in me! He was naked in me! Moving, wriggling, basking in my warmth, luxuriating in my moisture and saturated in my scent.

The feeling wasn’t unpleasant now that I was in control. I clenched my thighs and the tingling stopped. I imagined him naked and held securely, trapped in the firm musculature of my vagina. The sensations built, the rock was being pushed uphill, higher, higher right to the top- and then suddenly released to tumble uncontrollably downhill. Sensation overwhelmed me; I was shivering, crying out, lost in the intensity of my first orgasm. My body shuddered and my fanny contracted and pulsed as I gradually came back to reality.

That was the first time it happened. As time went on I learned how to use him- exploit him when I needed. Encouraging the movement, the wriggling and squirming until I started to spasm and plummeted over the hill in an orgasmic rush. I didn’t know what he felt but I guessed he was enjoying it. Certainly he never tried to come out of me and there was plenty of opportunity. I didn’t think he would last long, I expected hunger to drive him out, but it never did. I came to realize he must be reveling in a diet of my pussy juices, their scent must now be permeating every part of his body, saturating his bloodstream and nervous system whilst the juices themselves must have proved at least adequate for his nutrition. His presence seemed to increase the perfume from my pussy; even I was aware of it now whenever my legs had been crossed for a short while. When I opened them there was a rush of perfume, I could see the boys in my class stiffen and look my way. At times I could see traces of real hunger in their eyes.

Even though my own appetite was certainly growing, other boys didn’t interest me. I had my own private source of pleasure, and even though I now needed to come three or four times a day I could easily deal with it. I could dictate when and where my pussy’s passenger pleasured me simply by tensing my thighs and squeezing- either to encourage or to prevent his movement. Then, one day I lost control! I was in class and suddenly realized the feeling was rising. I became more and more breathless as the fluttering inside me continued. I tried to act normally tensing myself against a growing tide of sexual sensation. Frantically I clamped down on my thighs squeezing, squeezing but it didn’t work! He had climbed higher, higher even right into my very uterus, and I had no power over him there! I made my excuses and left the room, my legs almost folding under me as wave after wave of delicious sensation swept over me, the feeling building, building and building! I barely made it to the bathroom and slammed the door before the dam burst and the strength of the orgasm overwhelmed me. I collapsed and I could feel my pussy pulsating and squeezing. Squeezing emptily in an attempt to milk a full load from a prick that wasn’t in me! For the first time I felt the stirrings of what was later to become an insatiable hunger for sperm.

That was however, the last time that John helped me to climax. That evening I felt another object inside my pants. I went to the bathroom and found a crumpled and broken body, like that of a doll, barely 2 cms long, stuck wetly in my gusset. I guessed he had been in my uterus when the orgasm hit, the strong rhythmic contractions of my cervix had simply broken his tiny body and suffocated him. I scraped the evidence off my panties and flushed him away. I felt no remorse; he had been a bully and bastard. He had experienced two months of the deliciousness of my womb- bliss he didn’t deserve, and although I thought I might miss the induced orgasms, there were other ways! Anyway, the world is full of men only too eager to penetrate a young girl’s pussy and my perfume never fails in attracting their attention…

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