Memoir of a Child Slut/Chapter 3
I'm still conflicted as to why. Tom told me that his parents didn't think it was right for him to spend so much time with a girl half his age. Not sure why it was better when he was three times my age. While it is true that we saw less of each other after that summer, he would still pick me up after school occasionally, typically at the behest of my mother. My biggest problem was that he stopped feeding me his cum. That became my existential crisis. At the time I thought he had just grown bored of me. Looking back I think he found himself a girlfriend over the summer or in his new classes and didn't want to cheat on her with the bratty neighbor girl. He never did open up about it. But his sudden sexual restraint ruined me.
I came back from Kerri's after weeks of perversion and experimentation. I needed to touch myself constantly. It not only felt great but it was all tied into my superpower which made me unique. And just as I was exploring and appreciating this stuff Tom lost all interest. That felt so unfair. I wanted more, not less. What I was certain I needed was a new big kid to help me try new things since apparently little kids (myself being the exception) didn't do this stuff. So, with Tom ignoring me, I talked my mom into getting a new babysitter. She complained about having to pay someone since Tom had been free, but in the end it wasn't hard to convince her to pass me off onto someone else. She toyed with leaving me all alone, and cleverly I agreed, reminding her that I knew to call 911 if I needed anything. She opted for the sitter.
It didn't go how I expected. She was a teenager, maybe 15. I can remember her long curly hair, but not her name. We went up to my room to play after she did her homework. I hugged her and pulled at her clothes as soon as I could. When she denied me I tried stripping out of mine. She guided us into playing dress up. She handed me various outfits but I spent most of the time dressing down instead. She did try on some of my clothes, mostly laughing about how tight they were or couldn't fit. When I asked if I could try on her bra she said no, her underwear was staying on. I settled on one of my mom's bras instead who later yelled at me for going through her drawer. Overall not a very fun day.
Frustrated, the next time the sitter came over I waited until her homework was done then ran out of my room naked and screaming wanting to make her catch me and pin me down. When she wouldn't bite I threw myself at her, squirming my way onto her lap and eventually managing to cuddle with her. She said I had issues - she had no idea - but held me for a while until I sneakily kissed her on the lips. She actually kissed me back for a brief moment, then sat me down on the couch for a talk.
She couldn't have noticed I had my hands between my legs because she never stopped me from fingering myself while she explained about birds and bees and how I was still too young. I tried to explain to her how I wasn't a little girl anymore but she sent me to my room. When mom came home to find me naked in my bed playing with myself she held my legs open and spanked my pussy instead of my ass. I can't imagine the sitter never mentioning anything, but my mom didn't bother to ask me a single question, instead ranting the whole time about how she knew that babysitter was unqualified. I didn't learn a lesson from all that, other than the importance of hiding my deviancy.
I did force myself on Tom at one point. It was only a few weeks since I'd arrived home. I could see no end to my spankings and desperately needed to feel wanted and useful. I got naked and tried to undo his pants while he was playing a video game. He told me to quit but kept playing. Over the course of 20 minutes I slowly wore him down, inched my way in, pulled his cock out, and started sucking. I'm sure the only reason he didn't fight me is because he didn't want to raise a racket and have his mom barge in on some severely underage fellatio.
Once his dick was in my mouth again I was so excited but even more nervous. If I could do a good job and make him feel better maybe everything could go back to how it was. I wiggled and squirmed while I gingerly manipulated his junk, desperate to not screw this up. What was discouraging was having Tom curse me under his breath while I sucked away, muttering about how stupid and annoying I was. Trying to think up ideas to make things feel better and go faster, I kept accidentally picturing Kerri's big brother, his fingers sunk into my hair. I suddenly felt so guilty. Tom was changing but so was I. Part of me had to know things could never go back to normal, but I was blindly determined and forced Tom to cum into my mouth anyway while he whispered expletives and insults at me. As soon as I helped empty his balls he pushed me aside and swore at me for making him restart his level. I couldn't understand why he wasn't happy. It was like my powers were gone. I dragged myself away and cried in the corner, his cum slowly drooling from my mouth as I sobbed.
I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter. I didn't need my powers. I didn't need anyone. I could just go back to being a normal unremarkable girl. But I'd been sucking dick for so many years by then I didn't know what was normal. I was also an addict, having developed an actual craving to suck and swallow over my countless afternoons with Tom, one that I didn't recognize when I'd blown Kerri's brother. My summer with Kerri had only made my cravings worse. I was kinda broken.
The proof came when I started unknowingly sucking things in the middle of class. I didn't even notice when other kids would laugh at me. I only clued in when I almost got detention from a teacher who thought I was doing it for attention. My fingers, my pencils, my gluesticks; I was willing to put anything into my mouth as long as it was long and hard and could slide past my lips and down my tongue.
I made it to the end of November before I truly snapped. A boy I liked did something nice for me at recess. That's all the excuse I needed to demonstrate my appreciation. I brought him under the slide and immediately sucked his dick. It was so much smaller than Tom's and there wasn't that satisfying splash of a finish. I just sucked his little thing until the bell rang and we both went inside. During class I offered to do it again. He avoided me at first, probably out of shame, but two days later he pulled me over to the slide for another dick sucking. I happily did it every day.
A whole week went by before he started inviting his friends to watch, he claimed only because they didn't believe him. Likely story. His friends just wanted a try. I was happy to oblige and took all comers. With a growing group of kids standing under the slide at recess it's no surprise that a second week of this did not go by. Most of the kids were too young to understand this or even want to try, but it sure was a spectacle. We drew a lot of attention. Word spreads quickly when there's a girl who's willing to suck dick for free during recess. But it's sort of incredible that I didn't get caught sooner. Somehow all this commotion and gossip didn't truly alert the teachers until two boys canvassed the whole schoolyard in search of other girls who would be willing to join me.
The other parents were livid. The administration, and later child services, wanted to interview me and my parents. Of course my now absent father managed to avoid all that. They might have blamed him for what was wrong with me, but I never found out their official decision. All I knew was that my mom was (somehow) still deemed fit to take care of me. She wasn't even mad. Even with all the hassle I caused, my mother has berated me more for eating my cereal loudly than she ever did about my sucking dick. Since the whole thing only proved how much better she was than her shitty daughter, and give her something else she could complain about to her gossipy friends, I can hardly even remember getting grounded for it.
The school wasn't so lenient. The principal threatened expulsion unless my mother agreed to counselling to 'fix' me. That shows you how much they considered me a victim. Although it could have just been a way to strong arm my mother. Mom was positive I didn't need a therapist because she already knew everything there was to know about me and I wasn't worth that much money. But the school district had a financial assistance plan in place for special cases like mine (okay, not exactly like mine) and since my mother was too lazy to move me to a different school, I was forced to straighten myself out.
For a short time I wasn't allowed out at recess, which only made the teasing worse, and instead of spending time with Tom after school I would go see a shrink for well over an hour at the end of every day. It was terrible. The therapy itself was great to be honest, pretty much top notch, but I didn't know that and didn't believe I had a problem so I fought for a long time. Part of that was my mother actively undoing all of the work that happened every afternoon. But part of it was that I liked who I was. I liked my superpower. I just needed Tom to let me in, to give me back my powers, to let me make him happy again.
I saw this therapist for a month before I realized that it wouldn't stop while I continued to resist. So I played along. I regurgitated the psycho junk I was being inundated with. I learned how to appear normal, or at least their definition of it. I acted happy and polite, trying to become the well adjusted little girl they wanted to mutate me into. I did that for so long that I almost started to believe it. When the sessions stopped, the vague threat of possibly needing more therapy helped keep me in line. I straightened out and did whatever was asked of me only hoping to become invisible again. I saw Tom less and less, once per week if I was lucky, but I cherished the little time we spent together as much as I could. I just managed to shut other people out in the process.
I spent ages like this. For two whole grades I navigated through the pointless games that others expected me to play and did reasonably well. I had good grades. I kept my room clean. I even managed to have a friend or two for short stints of time, but that was especially tough. I was nothing like girls my age. Since everything they could see about me was fake, and I only acted how I thought people wanted me to, anyone who got close saw right through me. I never could keep a friend for very long.
Loneliness was the hardest part of pretending to be someone else. I felt like an alien, like god put me on the wrong planet when I was born. But I was so intent on appearing normal. Despite my mother's terribleness, my father's absence, and Tom's distance, I pushed through. I always had this thought in the back of my mind that one day Tom would come around. He would remember how much I'd helped him, how much he missed me, and we could fall right back into what we had before that stupid summer vacation of his ruined everything.
And then Tom left.
It was the middle of summer before I realized that I hadn't seen Tom in weeks. When I finally worked up the courage to knock on the door to his house I was tersely informed that he had moved away for college.
I was now completely broken.
The only thing that had mattered to me was Tom. He was my reason for being, my motivation and my reward. And he just fucking left. He didn't say goodbye, he didn't leave a note, he just left me.
Just like daddy.