I found religion early in my life, just about the time I hit puberty, and it was like God was testing me by suddenly giving me the body of a Jezebel. My breasts had quickly grown to a full D cup, my waist had shrunk to practically nothing, and my legs took on the shape and length of one of those harlot showgirls. Instead of darkening, my hair got more and more blonde as I got older. Since I was a kid, everyone remarked on how pretty I was, but now boys and men would openly leer at me. I would always cover up as best I could, wearing baggy blouses and sweaters two sizes too big for me and loose-fitting, ankle-length skirts in the drabbest colors. But they still stared.
My lucky day came in May of my sixteenth year at a retreat in Maryland where I first met my husband-to-be, Matthew. He was leading evening prayer services and looked so serene and holy that I knew this was the man God a chosen for me to serve as a dutiful wife. I guess he felt the same way, because in June of that year, with my parent's blessing, we were married. We waited a little over a year to consummate our marriage, while we prayed and prayed to overcome the sin of lechery, and when we finally did make love it was modest and chaste. We never used sex "recreationally," as the fallen say, but only to produce our three lovely children.
This summer, however, something happened to me that I still don't understand. Maybe I never will. Matthew was preaching a revival in Virginia over the weekend and had taken our two youngest daughters with him, leaving me and our eighteen-year-old son, Matthew Junior, who was on semester break from the seminary, at home. I had gone to the store that afternoon to buy dinner. While walking up and down the aisles, I noticed two very large Negroes eyeing me, but I have become so used to men staring at me over the years that I simply ignored them. As I always do when I encounter lustful behavior in men, I resolved to pray for God to release them from the bonds of licentiousness when I got home. I admit I was a little apprehensive when they very obviously followed me to the checkout, and I certainly did not like the larger of the two watching me so intently as I wrote out a check for the groceries. It made me a little uncomfortable, but as I left the store, I thought nothing more of it. By the time I had picked up Matthew's suit from the cleaners and stopped by Sister Sara's to pray with her for her ailing mother, I had forgotten about it completely.
When I got home, I called for Matt to come help with the groceries, but he didn't answer, which surprised me because he's always so dutiful. Then out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed something odd, and when I turned I saw Matt being held around the neck by one of the black men I had seen in the supermarket. I dropped the bag of groceries I had carried in and started to scream when a large hand clamped over my mouth. "Scream and we cut the kid, bitch," he said. I just froze.
He relaxed his grip on my mouth and said menacingly, "All we want to do is fuck you, bitch. Just do what we tell you and we don't touch the kid. You get youself a good fucking, nobody don't get hurt, and ever'body be happy. And thanks for the address on the check. It made this all a lot easier."
I was stunned. "Please, please just take what you want and leave" was all I could stupidly say. He just laughed and began to squeeze my breasts. I could have died of embarrassment when my nipples involuntarily began to stiffen beneath his horrid black hands.
My embarrassment quickly turned to fear, however, when the second man handed him his knife and he began to snip away the buttons to my blouse. I was nearly paralyzed by the time he cut my bra loose and my breasts tumbled into his filthy hands. "Look at the size of these fucking tits, Jamal," he yelled. In an instant he was mauling my breasts and tonguing my nipples, which to my utter consternation responded by suddenly growing achingly hard and erect. I froze in dread again, though, as I felt Jamal behind me slitting my skirt and watched it puddled at my feet. My panties were gone an instant latter. I was suddenly completely nude. Or so I thought.
The first man, Raheem, who was apparently Jamal's older cousin, took his mouth off of my nipples and ordered me to turn slowly around while they commented on every part of my body in the most lewd and awful language. They probed me and opened me. One massaged my clitoris, the other twisted my nipples. But what terrified me most came after their inspection of me.
"Listen up, bitch," Raheem hissed, squeezing my breasts in his disgusting paws.
"You our ho now and you goin' do `xactly what we say and just like we say it or the boy get his nuts cut off him."
Reaching down to my vagina, he twisted a clump of my pubic hair around his finger. "First thing you do is go on in that bathroom and get youself all prettied up for us," he continued. "You shave that pussy till it's smooth as a baby's butt. If it ain't what we like, we'll take care of it for you." And with that, he gave a quick hard jerk and ripped the clump of pubic hair twined around his finger from my body. I nearly fainted from the shock and pain. I only dimly heard him continue his instructions.
"When you get done fixing that pussy up real nice, you put on some makeup and somethin' real sexy like. We better both have hard ons ten seconds after you walk back in here or you be eating this boy's balls!"
I don't know how I made it to the bathroom I was so frightened. I thought momentarily of trying to escape, but those horrid Negroes' threats and the terrified look on my son's face erased all such thoughts. I would obey them and pray that our torment would quickly pass.
In the shower, my hand trembled almost uncontrollably as I took the razor and began ruefully to shave my pussy. Still, I took special care to make it absolutely smooth and did the same to my legs. I didn't want to offend my tormenters in any way. The makeup was going to be more difficult, as I don't wear it at all except on special occasions. I did find some old lipstick and a nearly dry bit of eyeliner and did the best I could. And then, I guess the devil must have entered my soul.
As I stood staring at my now utterly nude body, vanity took hold of me. I knew I had never looked so beautiful. My hair seemed radiantly blonde. The makeup accentuated my eyes, and my lips looked pouting and full, like the girls I see on magazine covers. My breasts were large and firm and, even though I'm nearly thirty-six now and the mother of three children, had no sag at all. My waist remained wasp thin and my legs seemed impossibly long and shapely. My bottom jutted out ever so provocatively. But what is still most shocking to me, what I adored most was the way my pussy looked now that it was clearly exposed. It cried out for attention. It asked to be caressed. I doubted very much that it would take anyone more than ten seconds to be aroused. Though I felt terribly ashamed for having such vain thoughts, I couldn't entirely blot out the growing sense of my own sexuality.
I had nothing at all sexy to wear, however. I'm just not that kind of woman. So I decided that the best thing I could do was simply wrap myself in a small bath towel that would allow most of my breasts to show, the bottom of my ass, and of course all of my long, lithe legs. I hoped it would be enough to satisfy them. I had to protect my son from these ravening beasts.
I guess it finally really didn't matter what I was wearing because Jamal had the towel off of me before I had taken two steps into the room. "Goddamn," they both said. "This bitch be lookin' fine." I hated it that their words gave me a slight tingle of pleasure. I fought the feeling with all my strength.
Their hands and mouths were on me instantly, and I felt their cocks hardening well before the ten seconds were up. Then, with Raheem kneeling down and slowly beginning to lick the edges of my freshly shaved pussy and Jamal expertly tonguing my nipples, a shocking moan escaped my lips. I thought I couldn't be more embarrassed until I looked up and saw that my captures had tied Matt to a chair directly in front of me. He was staring intently at me. My own son was being forced to watch me being assaulted by these hideous animals. I vowed to banish all impure feels and be strong in my purity for my son.
Jamal took me to a table, which he had placed right in front of Matt and pushed me down on my back so Matt was staring directly at my hairless vagina. And then the real horror began. Jamal was the first to pull his cock from his pants. It was ghastly. It was jet black, as thick as my wrist, and it must have been at least nine or ten inches long. I believe it was the first cock I had ever seen. I had felt my husband's inside of me, but I don't believe that I had ever touched it or looked directly at it. I knew, though, that it didn't look anything like this monstrous weapon. Then Raheem showed himself. If anything, his was even more frightening-perhaps a little thicker and certainly longer. He had a massive head at the end that thickened to a base that looked like a tree trunk. I knew that they would rend me if they tried to have sex with me. I feared it would be fatal.
