Who is Pollyanna?

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A girl who enjoys sexual freedom. Who seeks pleasure through pain. Who is eager to explore her sexuality through friendship and experimentation. A girl who loves easily and wants to be loved, fucked and abused in return. A seemingly fragile flower who offers herself to trusted people as a plaything.

Aug 5, 2009

Molesting Pollyanna

One of my playmates, Mr Rain, enjoys molesting me. He loves for me to lie there and let him do whatever he wants. We usually tie it up in some form of roleplay. I'll be his niece or pupil or a reformatory girl under his control.

There's never any physical struggle involved, I'm incapable of refusing him. He has absolute power over me. A struggle on my part would just earn me another beating. So I have to sit on his knee and let him put his hands in my knickers. Let him stroke me in my most intimate places, put his fingers inside me.

I get to a very powerful state of near genuine fear during these roleplay sessions. And sometimes I can't help whimpering and often I'm in tears. Truly feeling the emotions of that poor, abused girl.

And even though I know better, it always gets to a point where I try to pull away or I say no or beg him to stop. He doesn't like this. He wants me to a good little girl, not making any fuss. And then he'll take his belt off and strap me until I'm lying there sobbing and broken. Willing to let him continue unhindered.

Although I find that sitting or lying there passively is one thing, I can just about keep my anxiety in check. However, it's so much harder if I have to strip for him. Having to stand before him as I take my clothes off, having him ogle my body. Then standing in front of him, hands on my head, legs apart while he inspects me.

But even worse is having to participate by touching him. There's no hiding place from what's happening. No avoiding the cock hardening in my hand. Hoping that he'll be happy just to be touched, dreading what might come next...

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