I'm Jozee; I'm a lesbian bitch. I love to control and fuck up stupid Barbie-type bitches. Stupid fucking hoes who allow men to use them as cumbuckets. That makes my blood boil. They let men shit all over them.
Growing up, my mom ruled the roost. She controlled my father. What a limp, dicked, submissive weasel. Most men would have knocked out my fucking bitch mother. I guess I became a chip off the old block.
I despise weakness in men and women. If I ever let a man fuck me, he will have to be an alpha male who can dominate me. He'll have to have the strength and will to forcefully take me. If he can't, I'll cut his fucking balls off.
If he impregnates me, I'll train our daughter to be strong-willed and domineering. If I have a son, he will learn to worship me and other women. This is my story. I always knew I had an attraction to women.
I met Sue, a demure little blonde bimbo who was crying her eyes out behind large dark sunglasses. I sat across from her at a table by myself and checked her out. She was bruised, and I suspected she was sporting a fresh black eye.
I walked over to her table and asked if she minded some company. I've generally never had trouble meeting other women this way. Especially when they were vulnerable. She nodded, showing acceptance of my request. I sat down with my latte and offered to get her one.
She accepted. I knew then and there that I had her. She would be putty in my hands. Some cock broke her. He shattered her will. He made her feel worthless. We sat drinking our lattes in silence until she broke it with a soft mousey. "Thank you."
I responded with "Your welcome," "I'm Jozee." We spent two hours there as she told me her name was Susan and started opening up about her miserable love life and the rotten son of a bitch that was abusing her. She showed me the black eye as her tears flooded it in pain. She was broken.
I softly talked with her and coaxed her to come back to my place. I had a spare bedroom, and I offered her safety and comfort in my home. I didn't move on her sexually for over two weeks. I consoled her and assisted her in physically healing. I knew that the emotional healing would take a long time.
I work with a group that helps battered women. I've had a lot of training and a degree in social services. She preferred to be called Sue. Sue slowly started coming out of her shell. During that first month in my home, she healed physically; all bruises were gone. She started telling me about the man she thought she loved. How he abused her and wanted to pass her around like a whore.
He wanted her to let his buddies fuck her while he watched. She gave in to him once. She let two of them take her as he watched and instructed her as if she were in a smut film. Afterwards, he got nasty with her and beat her for being a "weak slut." That's what he called her.
