How I found out that being naughty is nice

This is a tale of corruption; of how I discovered that I felt more vitally alive when I was being bad than when I was being good.

You know what? I’ve come to the conclusion that if we’re all true descendants of Adam and Eve, then we all carry their rebellious sinful nature within us. Everything within us is corrupt and therefore programmed to respond favourably to any form of unhealthy temptation. Consequently, we get a buzz out of doing what’s wrong that we simply don’t get when doing what we’re supposed to. There’s a tingle of excitement in naughtiness that, to people like me certainly, is addictively attractive and sorely missed when it’s not there. Being good is Dullsville by comparison: being bad is Thrillsville Central and therefore the moral question we all have to daily grapple with is, where would we prefer to live?

I was brought up in downtown Dullsville but was always sneaking off to Thrillsville from a very early age. My first excursion over to the dark side took place shortly after I started school. I was five and everything seemed very new and exciting to me. Quite naturally, I was expecting to grow up to be a beautiful princess who’d marry a handsome rich prince and live happily ever after. It therefore came as a bit of a shock when some much older, bigger girls grabbed me, dragged me into the girls toilet and forced me to suck the little boy they were holding captive’s cock, purely for their amusement.

My captors weren’t from my Infant School, they were from the Junior School but shared the same playground. I think they must have been about nine or ten years of age and I was certainly.pierless against them. I say they forced me to do what I did, but only for starters; it didn’t ultimately turn out that way. I was well frightened at first. Of course I was, since I’d no idea what they had in mind for me and it’s natural to fear the unknown. But then I noticed the look of high excitement on their faces as they bustled me along. No trace of fear there whatsoever, so whatever these girls had in mind held no threatening consequences for them. Not a lot was being said but from the conspiratorial nature of their giggles and knowing looks, it was clear that they considered what was about to happen very naughty indeed and they were really into it.

Just how naughty I discovered on our arrival in the toilet. There were other girls in there already. They’d captured a five year old boy who I instantly recognised as being Gary from my class. They’d stripped him naked and were holding is slender, writhing white body down on the cold concrete floor. The biggest girl there had her hand over the child’s terrified mouth, muffling his screams and sobs. He looked pathetically vulnerable; a look I found so curiously attactive that I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I was forced to kneel beside him and ordered to “suck his knob.” Knob, cock; I knew nothing of such terminology. I’d no brother I could use as a point of reference. I’d never seen a cock in my life and wasn’t even sure I was seeing one then. It was so very small.

So, this then was the difference between girls and boys, was it? Boys had these little protruberences to pee out of instead of cunts. Suddenly, what I was being ordered to do didn’t seem sucha big deal after all. Therefore, I not only stopped struggling but was able to say in a matter of fact way, “okay.”

I was immediately released to get on with the job and at that moment felt the thrill of being totally accepted by a sisterhood I’d previously considered to be threatening strangers. Now though, I saw them as new and exciting friends. These were my kind of people and this was turning out to be an initiation ceremony that was making me one with them. It felt great! I was no longer an outsider, no longer a victim; I was now a co-perpetrator; one of the gang. More than that, I was the chosen one who’d been entrusted with a lead role to play. I felt honoured!

I’d never touched any part of a boy before in my life, other than an accidental hand contact, so this was all very novel. His smooth skin was quite pale, (apart from his scared face which was extremely flushed). I put one hand on his squirming belly and the other on a flailing thigh. Warm, soft, vibrantly living flesh I could dig my fingers into came to hand; it occurred to me that I could really hurt this little boy if I wished. Wow! This was darkly thrilling stuff indeed. I had butterflies in my tummy, goosebumps, the works! But I wasn’t alowed much time to savour that intoxicating moment as I was being urgently urged to get on with it.

So I did. I bent over and sucked all the lad had into my eager mouth. He tasted faintly of piss but in the thrill of the moment, I didn’t mind that. My tongue toyed with him, teased him, probed him and I couldn’t resist giving him a couple of little bites to make him squirm. It felt like I was sucking on a one of those slugs you see in your garden when it rains. My saliva made him all slimy and my childish mind had me thinking I was sucking a little boy’s slug since, as the nursery rhyme says, “what are little boys made of? Slugs and snails and puppy dog’s tails!” This was fun, I was loving this. Perhaps the boy came to like it a bit too. I can’t say for sure but he soon seemed to relax. Unfortunately, in relaxing, he lost control of his bladder which he proceeded to empty into my sucking mouth. I suppose I could have just opened my mouth and let his piss drain away but being stuck in sucking mode, my immediate reflex reaction was to swallow. There wasn’t that much pee anyway as it happens and it was all gone in a couple of gulps. I didn’t even gag. It made my throat burn a bit afterwards but the revelation that I was even capable of doing this filled me with nothing but awe and wonder. If I can do this to a boy, what else might I be able to do to one? Time would inevitably tell.

So, what were the consequences of this life changing adventure? Well, for a start I suppose it introduced me to the concept of sex. Boys and girls were very different animals and this difference was going to be fun to exploit. I knew exploitation was wrong of course, but that only served to make it more exciting. Although I didn’t know it at the time, very soon, I’d be swelling my pocket money with contributions from older boys who got their rock off by fucking little girls faces. Sperm or piss, the throat burn turned out to be much the same, but I charged more for piss.

As for Gary, the sisterhood made it very clear to him that I’d bite his penis clean off if he ever told anyone what we’d done. He was always very nice to me after that and later became one of my best costumers. Yes, for me, I must confess that naughty sex is heaps better than conventional sex and taboo sex is the very best sex of all.
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