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Esachasa/It's my life
Moar info: Esachasa.
In December of 2009, Esachasa's first deviantART account was found... along with this story. It was deleted but we have it all here!
My name is Danielle Leigh Howle, alias Demmy.
I’ve fucked at least 20 men.
I’m not telling about all the guys in my life, but this is my true story… I’m telling you about early this February, when I ran away for a week… I ran away for a week, and did some of the worst things I have ever done…
I guess to properly tell this story, I should say a bit about me first. About whom I was, actually…
(This might get a little off track... if you skip it till the next set of parentheses I will forgive you)
I’ve been dark all my life, Gothic by definition. My father always says that it’s just me copying other peoples stuff, and maybe I am sometimes. But we all copy after someone- I mean... Look at the preps! He also says don’t be silly, I’m not really gothic! After all, who in this world would truly be gothic! Can you tell my dad’s a good boy all the way through? Hell, I asked him once... You know what the worse thing he ever did was? Have sex with a few of his girlfriends, and end up with an illegitimate child. You know what else he’s done? Smoked 1/4th a cigarette, and drink 2 beers. Horrible, ain’t it?
But I am gothic… Truly gothic. I don’t wear the clothes; though I do love them... they are nice. Hell, actually, I can’t wear most of the clothes. They just look damned bad at me. But back to the point- I don’t wear the clothes, and most of the time by normal standards, I don’t look gothic except for the black fingernails. That’s usually a case of boredom and a sharpie, though. Anyhow- How do I manage to be gothic, without the clothes? Simple. I just am- It’s an attitude thing. Yay! Demmy has issues!
But not only that- I’m addicted. Sex has always just been a part of me… Don’t get me wrong, No one has ever done anything bad to me... I don’t think. Not that I remember… But when I was little... everywhere was a place to do something I shouldn’t… You know, “I’ll show you mine…” there was no Show me yours… Never really cared about it that much, actually. Playgrounds, I would be messed with by other little boys… As well as other little places, you know... the bus, everything…
So it’s official- I’m a bad kid. A bad bad sex addicted kid… Hell, I’m writing about this right now, and I’m still 14... Still have major issues with my personality, and got laid by a guy I’ve been fucking for 2 years at least, maybe 3 weeks ago and can still taste the long hardness of him in my mouth… The sad part- I don’t even remember his name... and my occasional begging for money actually gets me stuff!
(You can look now… See, not to bad!)
Now... let us move to what all this is leading to...
I had a friend… She was a nice friend... But a very very naughty friend. She loved drugs, and liked alcohol. Her name was Erin, and she was 15, going on 16 Goddess knows when. Erin liked boys very much, and seemed to always be flickering through boyfriends like they were candy. Every highschool has an Erin- The prep girl who will date anything that moves, almost. She’s pretty, popular, not to bright, blonde, and a druggy. As I said- Every high school has an Erin.
Erin also liked boyfriend issues, and, like the Erin at your High School, couldn’t deal with those Boyfriend issues she liked so well. So she comes up with a plan and you get to carry it out.
My phone rang. Blatantly, I ignored it, and my dad picked it up. I think I was drawing when he called me into the back room. I took the receiver into my hands, and said “Hello” while wondering who the hell could be calling me. Who the hell WOULD call me. Ahhh, Of course. It’s Erin.
Iwasn’t a popular girl, not in a good way, so I don’t get many phone calls. I smiled, and talked to Erin, mainly because I cherish the few rare calls I do receive on the phone.
She asked a favor of me.
“Can you call Justin for me?”
“Justin?”
“My boyfriend.”
“You have another one?!” I told you, like candy!! CANDY!
“Yes, I do. So can you?”
“I guess, why?”
“I need you to tell him that I’m in the hospital, and see what his reaction is.”
“Oh… hey, wait. You’re not in the hospital- I would know if you were… I DO talk to Tamaysa some…” Tamaysa is Erin’s sister… she had an apartment that was directly in the building behind mine.
“Oh. Yeh. I know, but do it anyways.”
So we outlined the plan. And I carried it out- I’m a good little bitch… Just like to make people happy.
I called Justin, and told him she was in the hospital. He didn’t really react much- Aka he didn’t really care. I called Erin, told her, and she had me call him back. Long story a little shorter, I and Justin ended up talking.
Wednesday night, I convinced him to get one of his boys, and come pick me up. The plan was, I sneak out for the night and come home at 5 am at least so that I can get some rest before school. That was the plan, anyways.
It’s dark; I’m kind of cold, and nervous as hell. I’m talking to the idiots on the phone and what the hell? There are three of them? Oh my god- they can’t even get to Battleground?! How the hell am I supposed to know how to get there, I’m 14 and don’t drive. I don’t go anywhere either- I did say I’m only popular in a bad way right? I usually stay in a 1 mile loop down the same road for several weeks of my life at a time.
SO eventually, the dumb asses get here. I see a jeep, I smile... and two people get out of the back. Great. So who’s up front? Let’s get in and find out!
Justin sat to my left I think, but I’m not sure… Mike, his friend, was on my left. Both of them cut their hair real short, a buzz cut really, the kind you can run your hands over and grin and it simply keeps you touched because it’s so fuzzy. Out of the two, I would go for Mike just for looks. But I’m an over weight girl, OK looking, and just to different for most people, so beggars can’t be choosers.
In front were two other people… One guy and one girl. It’s sad; I don’t remember the guy’s name. He was black (Sorry if I offend anyone) but handsome, though not in the way that you would remember- I’m good with faces, but I sure as hell can’t remember his. There wasn’t much talk, as we drove a city over, from Greensboro, North Carolina to Winston Salem, North Carolina. We were dropped off, on a street corner I’d never seen before, with three strangers I’d never met before. The jeep had been the black guy’s girlfriend. For the sake of simplicity, I shall dub him Bob.
There was laughter as we walked down the road, which I came to find out was Old Lexington road. We talked, and I got to know these men, but t there was a tension in the air... I could feel it. Suddenly, Justin told us to shut up, and we crept up his driveway to a little shed behind his house. He opened it, and closed the door softly, after ushering us all inside. If a street corner I’d never been on with strangers I’d never met was bad enough, the shed was worse. I smiled, and sat down, fighting myself... my body... not to fidget, to talk nervously. I was trying not to blow it, to make something decent out of this night. SO I sat, like a good girl, and quietly resisted their influences to take off my shirt. I frowned, I smiled, and I laughed. Then Justin and bob left, just for a minute, and I was alone. Inside, me and mike talked…I would fill you in on the conversation, if I could remember it… But my mind has never been one to retain such trivial things, so only the outcome filled my memory.
Justin and Bob came back in, and I could see the smile spread over their faces. Mikes face held the knowing look of a man who knew what he wanted, and knew there was no saying no to what he would get. My shirt was undone, and it fell, exposing the paleness of my skin. I wear a D cup, so my chest is large and firm, and a bit awkward at times.
“Wow, you got her to take her shirt off.” I could register a surprise in bob’s voice- hey, just because I’m white and live in a decent part of town doesn’t mean I’m proper.
“Yeh...” from what I remember, there wasn’t that much more talking. I never kissed them, though I would have liked to. I fucked them, lying on the floor by a white washing machine. My hands, my mouth... by body, for that night, it was there’s. Bobs hands on my chest, I remembered looking down at the darkness of the skin, and the pale creaminess of my own. I am naturally pale, Almost albino like, and he was dark skinned. I looked up, and I smiled, seeing the hard length of mike, so close. Every thrust of Justin between my legs rocked my body, and my mouth hung permanently half open from the loud moans of pleasure that came from my lips. I lifted my head, and took him into my mouth, still moaning form the pleasure.
Giving a blowjob has never been my greatest skill, but I am decent at least at what I do. I took him into my mouth, let my tongue roll down the bit I was holding, over the head, before I put more of him between my lips. My hands and my lips worked him, as I was careful to not let my teeth brush up against him. I remember his skin, the smell of it, and the feel of it. He smelled of smoke, and weed. But the taste was that of skin and sweet, and I licked along the length of him, one hand slipping beneath his shaft. I rolled, ever so gently, his balls, in my hands. I hand to pause, doing what I was doing, because Justin gave a particularly hard thrust. This made me cry out louder around Mike’s length. I was left gasping softly, a Mike grinned, Muttering “My Turn” and moved into Justin’s place. I looked up at Bob, and my gaze was unfocused. I gave up trying to see, and to think. I was close, so close. All of them, twice at least though probably more, came hard. Came hard, and at least used condoms. I was left panting again, panting and a mess on the floor, so sensitive… so nude as I lay there in the moonlit dark. I could tell I was going to be sore in the morning, my legs at least.
When I could move again, Breath correctly again, and speak a little without slurring, I managed to get on my clothes. We all took a walk, and I got to see Southside Winston for the first time.
We walked down the streets, and I talked about my life a little. Simply because I was bored. It was cool outside, so I huddled inside the padded red jacket I wore, making sure I didn’t trip over anything- You get to be so cautious to where you step when you were born from Rebecca Howle... Neither of us are the most graceful women in the world, and I got it from her.
We walked down the street of shambling houses, closed doors, and shitty yards. Animals seemed to like me at least; a cat seemed to have taken to following me around. I pet it every time they paused, to talk to the late night lurkers that seemed to hover about in the blocks. One man in particular, is what led to most of my downfalls that night.
I walked, hovering close t Justin. From what I could tell, Justin was kinder then the rest, more understanding. Just a bit more real and less fake wana be gangster. Bob was talking to a man, black and with a large stomach, which was leaning on a white fence. It was a white picket fence, with a matching house behind it, though... To tell if it had truly even been white was hard. Now it was all dirty, muddy, chipped, and falling apart. Trash littered the yard, and you cringed at the thought of going under the small overhang at the porch.
The solid man, Pancake they called him, was made up of circles. The largest circle was his stomach, big beneath the white t-shirt he wore. He had dark skin, a deeper color then bobs, and small round beady eyes that stared out at you from a very round plump face. His hair was cut close to his head, in short thick curls that only back hair seems to manage.
He glanced at me, enough to make me shift almost nervously. I sighed, and walked off from there just a ways, to the other curve. I sat, and waited from Bob and Pancake to finish speaking. Bob made his way over, and Justin’s idle chatter that matched my idle reply’s ceased just as much as mine.
“Do you prostitute?”
I stared at bob a minute.
“Do I what?”
“You heard me, do you prostitute?”
“I….” I stared at him... What if I said no? I don’t know what was going through my mind at the time, but I said yes. He asked me how much I wanted. $300, I said. He stared at me for a moment, and then returned to pancake. Pancake shook his head and went back inside his shabby little house. I sighed in relief- Yay for jacking up the price.
We walked on, and sure as hell, nothing else came up interesting that night during that walk. We went back tot eh shed, and I sat in the chair again. That dreaded chair. How the hell did I manage this- I was back on the floor again, nude, being fucked by 3 guys. The most I’d ever done before was 2, and that was when I got my cherry popped. I was 11 at the time.
We didn’t have much time by the time we had all finished. It was 3 AM, and we had no ride. I cursed, and bob went out to see if he could get us a ride. He said he’d go to the person’s house behind us, and steal a bike. Get to the truck station, and see if we could get a ride, on the promise I’d turn them a trick to pay for it. I reluctantly agree, and bob left. Bob didn’t return.
We went out looking for him, an hour later. Worried, we didn’t find him. Winston Salem’s Southside is set up in blocks, so it’s relatively easy to navigate around. You just walk. Turn. Walk. Turn. Walk. Turn. You will eventually get to where you want. We did this to eventually find bob, though he never turned up. Giving up, we returned to Justin’s house. I was numb, numb and scared. Suddenly, there was a fear in me, so thick it was touchable. I was in Justin’s room, Numb, because it was 6 am. My father was up. We talked in whispers, I was terrified.
“I can’t go back home... I can’t go back home…” I whispered my eyes wide. I sat stock still on the bed, staring in front of me at the wall.
Mike tried to make light of it, but Justin shut him up. He knew what it felt like, he said. ‘We will keep you here... ou can stay as long as you need. You need clothes? I can get some from a few of the girls I know. Don’t worry... it will be OK.”
I didn’t cry… I wanted to cry, why couldn’t I cry? It’s a dream… I thought. It has to be a dream. This can’t be real, it can’t... It just can’t…
It wasn’t a dream. I woke up the next morning curled on a bed that was a cot, in truth. I was curled next to Mike, and it was 11 am. I’d never slept with a man before, I mean truly slept with one. though not a virgin, by a count of 4 men before these 3, I’d never slept with any of my guys simply because I was 14, and I couldn’t. I have to say that it’s one of the best things I’ve woke up to in my life… to wake up curled against him, like a giant hug. I’m a very touchy feely girl when I can be… I need to be touched, a lot… ad this filled a big part of me, to know that I was being touched. I woke up and was still numb from the shock of not being home.
Justin’s mom was still home… He made sandwiches for lunch, only two. I ate one, though I wasn’t hungry. Quietly, I stayed in Justin’s room and waited till she left, till it was safe to come out. Justin claimed dibs on the first shower, Mike the second, me last.
Mike smiled, and took me back into Justin’s room; I had been exploring the house a bit. The bed squeaked under us, as he slammed into me- Mike was handsome but mike did not know how to fuck. The rumor white men aren’t that big rings true… Mike just wasn’t the size I was used to, to small and not thick enough. But he still finished with me screaming in pleasure, and me gasping for air. When I orgasm, I do it hard. And if you’re good enough, if you actually make me crash over the walls of my body into a state of bliss, I squirt. Mike did not make me squirt But Justin, after, definitely did. I screamed for him, and it was louder- I can’t help it... I’m just loud.
It was my turn; I took my shower, and was kicked out for the day.
I met a guy names Boogey, and odd name for sure. I partied with them one night, the night I met him. I got tipsy, and had fun for that night. I slept with one of the men that I met while I was with him, curled again him in a decent bed. When we woke, I ate a piece of KFC chicken for lunch, since it was already 12.
Several nights later, we went to the mall for the day. Great and dandy, but I lost them there at the mall. When the mall closed, I caught a bus back to Justin’s place. While there, I met a guy, and he liked me. When I got back to Justin’s, he had friend’s there-new friends, as I stood outside his window. They were smoking weed again. Did I have any money? They asked. No, I didn’t… I replied. Go make some, I was ordered, by a voice I didn’t even recognize. I sighed softly, and walked off. Furious, I went to boogey. I fumed, ranted, and growled he sighed, and told me he could maybe get a guy he knows to turn buy me for a bit. I nodded, and let him.
He took me to his house, Boogeys friend. The only reason he was paying for me, was because he’d never fucked a white girl before. I smiled, and I gave him a good time... I even discovered that if I got bored enough during sex, I could distance myself. I could talk, and the words that came out of my mouth were enough to make him finish fast, very very very fast. I’ve always been a good person at articulating things… and my mind has always been very very very dirty... So I had a nice supply of lovely dirty things to say into his ear. He gave me ten bucks- such a step down from my 300. Beggars can’t be choosers.
I went back to Justin’s, and flashed the money at the window. They let me in after his mom had gone to bed, and I sat in his room. Great, another 2 men I’d never met. I think I learned a lot that night, on how to give a blow job. I took my time, I explored, and played- when I guy is only getting head, they don’t haste you into doing anything else. I enjoyed myself that night. I remember lying beside Justin, as he told his friends that I was a great fuck. I remember blushing, and burying my face into him- Hell, I can’t be that great. I told him I didn’t want to fuck in this room with his mom next door, I was too loud. Sadly, the most intimate thing... The thing that I cherish the most from my time with Justin is the fact he leaned into me, and smoothed my hair back some. “You’ll be quiet just for me though, wont you?” there was something oddly romantic in the way he said it... something that made me feel warm, and like he cared just a little for me. The fact that I would do things for him that I wouldn’t normally do, that he noticed I did it, and seemed to care. I was hooked on him.
I fell asleep on the bed that night, and woke up at around 3 am. I sleep in the nude; it’s a habit for me. But boys will be boys. I woke up, and the light was on. They noticed I was awake, and started to bug me, so soon my blanket was gone, and I frowned. I heard a brief order to get on my knee’s, and I was their play toy for at least an hour. I was on my knees on the ground, almost like I was a present. They were using a little orange tube that cigars come in, to fuck me. The cigar tube had the finger of a glove over it, and a little lotion. I have to say, it was a pretty decent make shift dildo, but oh if only it had been thicker at least! The only way they could get that little orange tube to make me cum, was pumping that bloody thing very very fast inside him, fast as possible, while rubbing my clit. I was all to ready to return to sleep when they’d done- It was just too late. I fell asleep cold, on the floor.
One night, I couldn’t take it anymore... I’ve been clinically depressed for quite a while. I grabbed a beer bottle, and threw it at the ground. Bending down, I picked up a piece big enough to hold in my hand. Sitting on a bench in the play yard of Easton elementary school, at least 10 PM, I cried. I cried, and I buried to glass into my flesh just to feel better. I still have the scars to remember it by, but I needed it. It calmed me down. I went to find a napkin, some food, and a place to sleep.
I slept that night at bogeys house. He lived with is uncle, Boogey being a man around 30, his uncle around 20. I woke up that night, dimply away of the touch of someone hands. I kept still, and felt is uncle. I had a blanket over me, and I felt the fingers running along my slit- There were no panties beneath the jeans I was wearing. He’d pushed them down, was now in essence, raping a part of me just a little. He paused when I shifted slightly, and when I stirred no more, I felt him sit on the couch, felt the press of him against my ass, and then I felt him push along the wetness of my slit. I let him know I’d woken, by spreading my legs a little wider. It’s not like I could say no, not in my mind- I have issues saying No. he fucked me, even while I was half asleep, letting him, and came inside of me. He pulled up my jeans, and I guess he thought that I’d never woken, and was a very deep sleeper. Pulling the blanket over my body, he went back to where he was sleeping, and I frowned slightly. I was so sleepy, and in actuality, I really had been mostly asleep. I sighed softly, and went back to sleep.
I woke that morning, and found out just how much the cops had been looking for me over a few days. Multiple times, the men had tried to ditch me... I was after all, a dangerous person to be around as they could file Kidnapping charges against both Justin and mike- Justin was 17, mike 18. I’d given up my place there, only saying hey every now in then. We’d heard from Bob’s girlfriend that he’d been shot and killed that night. Justin thought it was probably because Bob sold some fake weed. Bad bob. Very bad bob.
Bad bob rolled up in his car, made me get in- He’d been picked up by the cops and questioned that night he’d left us. He had decided to lay low for a while. But he needed to tell me something- The cops had raided Justin house looking for me that morning, Thank god I was at Boogeys. They took me to Pancakes house, where I finally did fuck him. He pained me with crack. I have a very strict rule- If I don’t know what it is I don’t do it, drug wise. If I do know what it is, and it’s addictive physically, I don’t do it. I honest to god didn’t recognize the drug at first… I’m just that innocent about drugs. Give me a good bottle of vodka, and I’m amazing... I like alcohol more then drugs, any day. Mike and Justin and bob rolled back up, and took me out to a park. I stayed out at that park, waiting for them. Desperate, I recognized one of the guys’ from the party at Boogey's house roll up. I didn’t know how to get back to Justin’s, not from there… I hitched a ride back, like the good little girl that I am.
That night, I stayed at another of Boogey's friends. I had a good shower, washed my hair... and felt clean like I hadn’t been able to do in to many days. Yes, I fucked him too. But the next morning, he gave me money. 2 dollars. I took the express buss, the 2 dollar bus that goes between the cities in the triad area. I took it, and by gods... I went home. I went to my true home, because I was tired of it. I wanted home.
Most of what happened was to long ago. I ran away in February, while it is now October… A lot of the trivial things, I have forgotten, left with only events that I found worth remembering.
I turned tricks, made some money… I fucked more guys in 1 week then a lot fuck in their lifetime. I was pimped off the a few men by my keepers, and they got m for free simply s payment for being able to stay with him.
Kind as he was, I’m a submissive. My life is screwed up, and I know it. I know the reason I think the way I do is because almost everything I ever do, is to please someone in some way. Not physically attractive, and not smart enough to be anything... Not talented or dark enough, not rich enough and not poor enough. I’m just not enough or anything, so if I’m not enough of anything, I’m going to slut enough. Every guy I’ve met, that I’ve ever had any type of relation ship with, knows this- I don’t care who you fuck. You can Date who you want when you with me… and I will turn my head and look away. I’m not enough, I know that. Go get what you need, I only need 1 minute of your week... a few kind words, and I’m there. I’m dedicated. Take what you need from me; I give it to you freely. These are my rules... They are the rules I still hold. but I learned a lot from my trip, and if I ever had to make the choice in my life if I would ever go through this again if I could start my life all over.. I would say yes, because there are just some lessons you can’t learn without being forced to learn it al by your own damned self.
Oh... and I don’t know how many guys I’ve fucked… More then I’ve wanted to, that’s for sure. 4 before the experience, and I think 16 more in that one week… Give or take a few…
I’m rambling, I know… and I do apologize.
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