.5

Dear Diary,

I haven't written in a few days. My situation has become so crazy. I have a tough time putting it into words. First things first, I haven't seen the fat old man since I haven't been allowed to ride the train. Just thinking about that old man taking advantage of me gives me a feeling of butterflies, and an urge I can't explain. I want to have my first orgasm, but I don't want to disappoint God. I hate that old man. The way he looks, the way he smells. I hate that he kisses me when I don't want him to, that he touches parts of me that are private. It's not right. I was a proper young lady. Maybe some small part of me feels like he...owns me...

The only thing I can do is go to my dad and ask him if I may have an orgasm. He always tells me 'No' and then he spanks me. Oh Diary, I hate his spanking so much. At first, he started with spanking me over my dress or skirt. It wasn't so bad, but it didn't make that terrible feeling go away. He then began pulling my dress or skirt up and spanking me over my panties. That hurt! But again, I was still going to him with tears in my eyes, begging him to let me touch myself. So now he bends me over his knee, pulls my skirt up to my waist, pulls my panties to my knees, and hits me hard with his belt.

It's so embarrassing, especially since I get the feeling and have to ask him three or four times a day. My ass always hurts! I've also been using the words that Pastor Jeff gave me to talk about my body. It's embarrassing as well...I feel so cheap and unclean. It goes double with every man at my college swapping photos of my nakedness and abuse. But after talking with Pastor Jeff, I finally understand that it's my fault, and I deserve it. After all, if I was a good Christian girl, I wouldn't have let this whole thing get as out of control as it did. I need to take accountability for my actions and accept that the consequences are that men are going to look at pictures of me naked, call me a slut and a whore, and slap my taut little ass as I walk down the hall. I don't even bother telling them to stop anymore. If only there was some way to have an orgasm, but my dad will never give me permission!

Dear Diary,

When I was working at the restaurant today, I felt a hand on my thigh. It's become a common occurrence for me now, so I tried to ignore it. Naturally, since the pictures and stories started circulating, a lot of boys from my school and men from all walks of life feel my legs. Many pull me into their lap and caress my small firm tits while running their fingers through my hair and forcing their tongues into my mouth. The hand slid up and squeezed my ass. I turned to see HIM! The old man! I bit my lip and whispered to him, asking what he was doing there.

He told me he came to see me and asked me if I'd missed him. I turned bright red.

I told him I didn't miss him, and that he ruined my life!

He chuckled and said that was a shame. He then said he was wondering if I wanted to come to his house on Tuesday. He said if I decided to join him, that I should wear my nicest dress, fix my hair and makeup, and come and see him at 7pm. He then stood up and took my body in his hands. He let his tongue explore my mouth in front of the whole restaurant, my ass in one hand, my titty in the other. It must have taken a few minutes to get him to disengage. Then he slapped my ass (hard) and left.

My manager yelled at me for causing a scene. The truth is though; it's totally my fault. Why do I have so much trouble telling him 'No,' Diary? He's a dirty old man. I'm a young Christian woman who's saving herself for marriage.

I've made a decision. I'm putting my foot down and I'm not going. God if I could only touch myself and make myself orgasm. Oh Diary, I'm so desperate.