Rated 14+ with MC-S for sexual situations
 |
| This entry is part of the One Year Anniversary celebration of the Eddie Sigala Foundation |
About two years ago, my summer was quite an exciting one. I had bought a new computer just months before, so I could finally enjoy what the internet had to offer instead of waiting for the computer to come out of a hang. At the time, I was better friends (not sure if it's any worse now) with The Archenemy's spouse, and after experimenting with a feature on our computers, we started writing a little diary.
This entry was co-authored by us both, and although I somewhat tried to get her approval, nothing came of it, so I'm going ahead with publication. Here is "Fantasy."
Note that the entry has been proof-read for grammatical and spelling errors.
August 6, 2010
Dear Diary,
Today I experienced my first, and definitely
not my last form of anal intercourse. Now, don’t go judging me and saying it’s
against the Bible. To be honest, it wasn’t my choice.
I went to go visit a friend of mine… and
mind you, he’s a year older than me. And shall I mention much stronger, but
very attractive. So attractive I've had dreams about him. Anyways, as we were
sitting in his living room, [he] offered me something to drink… As he handed me
the drink, he “accidentally” spilled it all over me.
Apologizing for what seemed like five minutes,
he said I could borrow some of his clothes and could change in his bedroom. I,
having no other option, as I was soaked with alcohol, agreed and made my way to
his bedroom where he handed me clothes and told me to take my time and [exited]
post haste.
As I
was slowly undressing, I took a look around his room and realized just how much
of a nerd my friend was. Suddenly, I heard the door open and one minute, I’m
standing in my boxers; the next I wake up and find myself tied to the bed. I
immediately panicked and searched for a way out. Seeing recently a story about
a woman who had been in the same situation, she saved herself by calling for [help]
by typing with her toes on a laptop. I looked around in search of one. Perhaps
the angels had been looking down on me because right by my feet laid an opened
laptop with the website for 911.
As fast as I
could, I typed in a S.O.S. message and hoped for the best. As I was praying to
my God, the great Chesus Crust, I
hear sirens approaching. And suddenly a flock of police enter the bedroom.
…Was I
embarrassed! Lying there in nothing but my underwear, but nonetheless I was
relieved. They took one look at me and giggled a bit. I (was) flabbergasted and
a bit insulted… Why weren’t they helping
me?! It was their sole duty to save me.
Suddenly I
notice one of the police officers looked very familiar. He was my friend who
had [spilled] the drink. I slowly took a good look at the others and noticed
they looked nothing like police officers. Just cheap impersonations.... One of
them slowly approach[ed] me and ask[ed] how I [was] doing. To which I [replied]
for them to free me, that my mom would soon be getting worried, and (that I) would
call the real police and they’d be charged with kidnapping. Upon hearing this, they burst out laughing.
They somehow
knew I was lying.
And I got
frightful in the thought that this gaggle of fake policeman and my attractive friend would do to me in my
vulnerable state. As I started thinking and imagining of all the possible
things that would happen to me, they all slowly started to approach me. And
might I say, if I hadn’t been in my underwear I would have urinated myself. But
for all I knew they all could have had peeing fetishes and it would [drove]
them even crazier. Hearing a noise, I came back to reality and noticed that
they were all undressing slowly. Did I mention that that noise had in fact been
music?
They were…
stripping. Slowly but surely, all their clothes were coming off to the beat of
Lady Gaga’s song “Bad Romance.” One by one, they surrounded me and danced. What
the hell was going on? I was in my underwear tied to a bed with about six guys
stripping for me. Being in the position I was, there was nothing left to do but
enjoy it… and that I did.
In the
background of Lady Gaga going, “I’m a freak bitch baby” and the guys singing
along, I [heard] the door open and [saw] more people standing there to my
surprise, with balloons. Surely, I was losing my mind. Who else does this
happen to? NO ONE. They all burst in from in the door yelling “Happy Birthday!”
I had forgotten
it was my birthday. And apparently these were all strippers hired for me. And
at the top of it all was my friend.
Then I realized
this had all been my fantasy of what I wished what had happened.
Man, I wished
it had gone that way. Those guys were in fact stripping and approaching me, but
not to dance. They wanted to do the unspeakable to me. They all crowded around me with their manhood
exposed. Telling me what they wanted me to do to them. But I just couldn’t… It
was too much.
[There] were
too many. And I only had two holes. And might I [mention] that I was very
confused. Should I indulge in sins of the
flesh, or try to escape [onto] the …, running past houses in the afternoon
in only boxers and handcuffs? … I decided that the best thing to do was to stay
still, and hoping that none of this would affect me. And to top it all out, my
friend, WHO STILL HAS NO NAME, was laughing manically at the situation.
I yelped out, “Why are you laughing?” He
replied, slyly masking his infatuation, “Well, I’m only doing what I feel is
right. And we are friends, aren’t we? Well, think of this as ‘spending the
night.’” Knowing there was in fact no way to escape, I decided to make best of
the situation and indulge it. Because after all, I had dreamed of this, it was
in fact a dream come true. But I was still scared and alone.
One by one, the
men had their way with me and sometimes even three of them did. It was more of
a nightmare than a dream. I came to realize …God forgive me for this, (that) I
enjoyed it. The last and only one who hadn’t had their turn with me was my
friend. I think it’s about time I announce who my culprit was. I had known him
for two years and had helped him out of things. [This is why I couldn’t
understand why he was doing this to me.]
He came and
faced me. Only two feet away from my face and whispered, “I’ve been waiting for
this all night. I wish I could have had you at the beginning when you were
still fresh but save the best for last, eh?” I looked him straight in the eye
in horror but with lust and said, “I’ve been waiting for you turn eagerly…
Aaron.” Now, I’m not to kiss-and-tell, Diary, but I was very surprised at what
was happening. … But I wasn’t sure. Anyway, he did what he did.
He made me feel
like… ice in a blender. Like a piece of meat on a barbecue, or the hole you
stick the gas nozzle in. But I also made him a MAN. I made him scream and squirm so much; you’d say he could’ve
been riding The Titan. But he liked
it. … And the juice flowed like raging
river. He wasn’t the only one to feel like a man.
He made me feel
like a submissive whore. I at once knew, that was what heaven felt like. An
unforgettable night spent with the most handsome man I’ve ever met. The locks
of brown hair sticking to his sweaty brow as he got plowed like a corn field.
And the way he moaned “Oh God” even made Ryan squirm.
And HoJo wonder. And I slowly got underway to finding how deep Aaron really was. I missed about 8 inches of him. And he missed 5 in me. He thrust in me with all his force. He was working his way to his climax, but enjoying every single moment of it. This went on for about 15 minutes. I was surprised that he could last that long. Soon, he came and flooded me…
 |
| The document is part of the ESF Archive, Archive #11-015 |
