Why would a married, educated 35-year-old Asian American doctor find herself in a trailer park, sucking on the cock of 60-something auto mechanic 3,000 miles from home? Well, the doctor is me, and this is the story of how I ended up spending a weekend getting my pussy stretched in a disgustingly filthy trailer that had no heat or shower.
I met this man through Literotica. When you’re a female writer on this site, men will send you private messages about your stories, sometimes for the purpose of trying to figure out whether you might want to hook up.
I’m very wary about meeting men online. The whole idea of it scares me. You don’t know if you’re meeting a potential serial killer. I know other women, especially women like me, do it all the time, but I’ve always avoided it. By women like me, I should probably point out here that I suffer from sexual masochism disorder combined with hypersexuality. It’s a kind of fetishistic disorder in which I am sexually aroused by physical violence, verbal abuse and other forms of humiliation. Basically, I like to be forced by men, specifically White men, to have sex, and I love to submit to them and their degradation. I admit it’s an awful affliction to have, and I’m not proud of it, but I often feel powerless to resist the urge when it comes over me.
I’ve never been professionally diagnosed, but after talking to other women with similar afflictions, some of whom I met on Literotica, I’m pretty sure that this is what is at the core of my sexual issues. For a long time, I didn’t understand my sexuality. When I engaged in masochistic sexual behavior, I attributed to (1) sexual exploration, (2) too much alcohol, (3) bad judgment, or even (4) conflicts with my boyfriend. In fact, the sex I engaged in was exactly what I wanted, even if I didn’t know it then.
After I wrote my first Literotica story-which I wrote as a kind of therapy-I received a number of messages from men who told me what they’d like to do to me. The messages were very graphic in detail, from the size and shape of their cocks to where and how they wanted to penetrate me. I received a number of offers to be hogged tied and tortured by having large items put into my pussy and ass. Even more common were the suggestions that I be gang raped as punishment for my cheating ways. The sheer number and graphic nature of these messages shocked and frightened me.
Most of these messages I didn’t respond to. But one person wrote me a very erotic email about who I was, and what I needed. He had read my story carefully and figured out what turned me on. What he wrote wasn’t as crude as what others had written, but there were just enough elements of savagery and cruelty to intrigue me.
I can’t even tell you why his emails aroused me so much. Against my better judgment, I decided to respond to him. His name is Gary. I wrote to him by email and said, I can’t meet you, but tell me more about what you would do to me if we met. What he wrote back made me wet. We would write back and forth and I would end up masturbating furiously to his emails.
We ended up writing off and on for several months. He never failed to satisfy me. He knew all the buttons to push. We exchanged photos, first of our genitalia, then our bodies. He asked me to send him a photo of my face, but I refused. He sent me a picture of his face. He had the face of a man who had had a hard life. He wasn’t handsome in any way, but there was a kind of mountain man roughness about him that appealed to me. But I still knew that I couldn’t possibly meet him. I’ve been married for two and a half years, and although I haven’t been faithful even in that short amount of time, I’ve been trying to change.