Degrassi Sex Stories

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Confessions of a Teenage Sex Addict by CaribbeanPeasant
I step to my mirror and take off my shirt. As I unbutton each button, I winces in pain; my chest is still sore from my earlier beating. I can see the welts on the tops of my breasts clearly; they are long, red lines that remind me of the hell I'm in.
Next, I lower one bra strap at a time and slowly pull the cups down under my breasts. My nipples, normally light brown like her hazel eyes are tinged red with her own blood along with small scars and open wounds surrounding them.
I grab my rag and soak it in the cold water in the sink. Gently, I wipe away the caked and still flowing blood. I grab bandages from my first aid kit behind my mirror and place them on the larger cuts on my breasts. Tears flowing down my eyes, I turn the water on in the shower and let the water run down into the tub.
I turn back to the mirror. Looking back at me is a torn, broken girl with bruises and smeared make up all over her face. Her hair is in messy curls around her face and her bottom lip is busted, like it normally is on nights like tonight.
Refusing to look at myself anymore, I take off the rest of my clothes and get in the shower. I sit in the tub and hug my knees as hot water beats against my skin. Here, I start sobbing, thankful that monster can't hear me in my room's personal shower. Sitting there, I wonder why God-if there even is one-would ever think I deserved something like this.
The first time it happened, I was in my room playing with my stuffed animals when my door creaked open. When I saw my mom's head, I greeted her with a smile. I got up and ran to her for a hug. She picked me up and carried me to my bed. She smiled at me when she put me on the bed. "I have a new game I want to play, Butterfly," she told me.
"What is it, Mommy?" I asked. She gently started pulling at my shirt and grinned widely. "We're going to play Doctor," she told me. I clapped my hands excitedly. She grabbed my hands and lost her grin. "But you can't tell anyone we've played this or play it with anyone else. Okay?" I nodded and she smiled again.
"I'm going to take off your dress and feel your heartbeat okay?" she asked. I nodded and she slipped my dress over my head. She placed her index finger in the middle of my chest. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "There it is. Put your hand right here."
She grabbed my hand and placed it in the spot where she had her finger. "I don't feel anything," I said incredulously. She moved my hand down to my nipple. "How about now?" she asked. I shook my head and she began rubbing my hand over my nipple. "Now?" I shook my head. "Mommy I feel a little funny," I told her. She faked a gasp. "That means you're very sick, Butterfly," she lied. "I need to hurry up and make you feel better. Lay down for Mommy?"
I nodded and laid down for her. She slowly slid off my underwear. "Open your legs for me, Sweetie," she commanded. I complied wordlessly and she looked at my exposed vagina. She frowned. "Oh yes," she began, "You're very sick, baby. I'm gonna feel around to see if I can find what's making you sick. It might hurt a little so I'll need you to be a big girl for Mommy. Will you be a big girl for me?" I nodded again and put my hands on my stomach, watching her every move.
Then, she put one finger inside me and began pushing it in and out of me. At first, I started to feel a little pain. I gripped the covers under me and closed my eyes. Then, she put more fingers inside of me and I gripped the covers tighter. I kept myself quiet so I would make Mommy happy and proud that I was a big girl. She put all of her fingers on her right hand in me and moved faster.
After a few minutes later, my body shook and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as I had my first orgasm. She saw this and stopped moving her fingers inside me. "That's a good girl," she told me proudly.
I was only three years old the night I'd lost my virginity.
Around the age of ten, I started to fill my body out. I'd grown into a B cup and my hips were starting to curve. The boys at school noticed my changes...and so did my mother.
The next biggest event that I remember before she went to jail was one night when I was at that age. It was after school when it happened. I called home during lunch to ask my mom if I could stay the night a friend's house and she told me I couldn't; she said I had to come straight home. And that's exactly what I did.
When I got home, Mom was sitting in a big chair in the living room. "What took you so long to get home?" she asked. I put my bag on the couch. "I had to tell Samantha why I couldn't stay at her house and we went to go get something to eat," I explained. "I should've called. I'm sorry, Mama."
She stood up. "You've been a bad girl, Butterfly," she told me. "But because I love you and you were honest with me, I'm going to give you a very special treat. But you also get a little bit of punishment."
I stood at the doorway with my arms crossed, afraid of what was going to happen. She picked up a bag from the floor and took one of my arms. "Come with me, Butterfly," she demanded.
She took me into her room; this was different because she always played with me in my room. "Lay down," she instructed. I did as told and her hands moved to my shirt. "You're growing into such a big girl," she told me. She took off my shirt and ran her hands over the cups of my bra. First she slipped my straps off my shoulders than pulled my bra down to my waist.
"When did you get such beautiful breasts, Butterfly?" she asked smiling. I said nothing; I didn't know how to answer her. "I'm going to give them both a few kisses, okay?" I nodded.
Her head moved to my right breast and she began kissing in places around my nipple. Her lips touched my nipple and she began to suck it. Her right hand moved to my left breast and she started caressing it, occasionally twirling my nipple between her fingers. Then she switched breasts and repeated her motions.
She pulled her head away and smiled at me. "You're so beautiful, Baby girl." I remember wearing a skirt that day, and I remember her hands sliding up my inner thighs. She slid off my underwear and pulled my skirt up a little to expose my vagina.
She reached over under her bed and pulled up what I now know was a strap-on. "This is for being a good girl," she breathed. She un-zipped her pants, pulled them down along with her underwear, and strapped the thing on. She spread my legs and wrapped them around her waist, putting the tip of the strap-on inside me.
She pushed the rest of it in slowly and pulled it out fast. Then she pushed it inside me quickly with a lot of force and pulled it out slowly. "Sit up, Butterfly," she ordered. I sat up without a word and she pressed me against the head board. She started pushing the strap-on in and out of me again, this time at the same speeds.
I started to let out noises of pain but I tried to stifle them by biting my bottom lip. My mother leaned into me and kissed me to get me to stop biting my lip. "It's okay, Butterfly," she told me. She kissed me again. "You can make all the noises you want."
She kissed me plenty of times while she pulsed the strap-on into me and I finally felt the shiver that meant I had my orgasm. My mom was playing with my tongue when I had it and she chuckled softly into the kiss. She pulled away from me and looked me in my eyes. "Now it's time for your punishment," she told me.
She pulled the strap-on out of me and moved away from me. "I want you to get on your hands and knees," she told me. I got on my knees and crawled past her, stopping when my hands were close to the foot of the bed. As I did so, my skirt fell over me and back to normal. Her hands gripped the back of my thighs and she slid my skirt back up to my waist.
"This is going to hurt," she stated. She took the strap-on and stuck the tip of it into my ass. I let out a small noise of pain and lowered my head. Her hands found their way to my hips and she began shoving the strap-on into me harder and faster. "Your ass is so tight, Butterfly," she said.
As she began moving faster, her body leaned over me and she had her hands on my breasts. She pressed herself against me and I could feel her bare breasts on my back through my hair. She had taken her blouse off while I wasn't looking.
"Mama it hurts too much," I cried. She didn't listen. She kept pushing into me as hard as she could. "This is your punishment, Baby," she reminded me. "It's almost over." She moved as fast as she could and squeezed my breasts tightly. I screamed a little from the pain but she wouldn't stop. A few minutes later, she gradually began to slow down and ease up on me. She finally pulled out and let go of my breasts, leaning up.
I was afraid to move at all, so I just kept my position on the bed. She placed her hands on my shoulders and yanked me up to her, pulling me against her breasts. "I've got something I want you to do now, Baby girl," she whispered in my ear.
One of her hands left my shoulders and I heard the velcro of her strap-on undoing. She grabbed one of my hands and pulled it back between her legs. "Do you feel my pussy, Care Bear?" she asked. I nodded slightly. She moved my hair and kissed the side of my neck. "Do you want to taste it, Baby?" she asked. I knew the answer she wanted and I nodded.
She moved away from me and turned me around. "Taste as much as you want," she ordered. She moved so her back was against the head board of her bed and opened her legs wide. I didn't want to taste her at all, but I was afraid of what she would do to me if I didn't. I don't remember if she ever hit me, and I wasn't about to see if she would.
I crawled to her and pressed my lips to the lips of her vagina. I let my tongue touch the inside of her vagina and slowly licked up and down it. She placed one of her hands on the back of my head. I moved my tongue up to her clit and began to circle it. "Faster," she breathed out.
I began to circle her clit faster and flicked it a few times with my tongue. She moaned loudly with every movement and her other hand soon found its way to my head. As I continued to lick, her moaning grew louder and she began pushing my head closer to her vagina. I couldn't breathe very well, but I forced myself to continue.
A few minutes later, her body shook and juices from her vagina shot into my mouth. She moaned as loud as she could in her orgasm. I reluctantly swallowed the juices, afraid she would do something to me if I didn't. She grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me up to face her.
"Good girl," she congratulated. She yanked my hair and pulled me off of her bed. My skirt fell down and I was glad at least that part of me was covered. "Now get out of my sight. I don't want to see you until dinner time." I nodded and crossed my arms over my chest. "Yes, Mama," I said quietly.
I hurriedly left her room and went into my own. I shut the door and locked it behind me. I went straight to my bathroom and turned on the water in my shower. I took my skirt off and unhooked my bra. I watched it fall to the floor. Then I sat on my shower floor and hugged my knees tightly, letting the water fall on me.
I started crying softly as the water beat against my bare skin. I remember silently chanting the word "unclean" for at least an hour. I felt dirty every time she touched me. Every time she caressed my skin and kissed my lips, I felt like nothing more than common whore.
I held my mouth open to the shower nozzle and practically drowned myself as I tried to cleanse my mouth. That day was the single most worst day of my life. My mother had never done anything like this before and I prayed to myself she never would again.
That was also the day I lost my faith in God. If He loved me like the preachers said He did, then why would He let Mama treat me like this? Why would He take my daddy from me? Why did He have to put me here? Did He really think I deserved this life? I wondered every day for the rest of my life about that question.
By age thirteen, Mama started hitting me. At that age, I started refusing to do what she wanted me to. I was tired of sitting in my shower every night after she touched me. I was tired of feeling like a whore. I stopped letting her have her way with me and that pissed her off. When she wanted to play another of her "games" and I said no, she would get angry. Most nights she'd hit me with her hands. Other nights she would improvise and hit me with brushes, spoons, or any other objects she could find.
I remember the day I called the cops, too. It started in my first 7th grade class of the day. I was taking a test and it got really hot in my classroom. I had a hoodie on but I couldn't keep it on. I wasn't focusing on anything but my test, that's why I took my hoodie off; I forgot all about my bruises. I sat the rest of my testing period with my arms exposed to the world.
My teacher called me after class so she could talk to me. "Is everything okay at home?" she asked me. I smiled. "Of course," I lied. "What makes you think that, Ms. Gable?" Ms. Gable crossed her arms. "Show me your arms then," she demanded. "I don't want to," I said quietly.
Ms. Gable grabbed my arm gently and rolled up my sleeve to expose the purple-ish bruises covering them. "Who did this to you?" she asked softly. I sighed. "You won't say anything will you?" I asked in return.
Ms. Gable sat in her chair and gently pulled me close to her. "I have to tell the police," she told me. "Whoever did this to you needs to be put away for a long time. Now who did this to you?"
I sighed and looked away from her. "It was my mother," I told her.
I don't remember a lot of what else happened that day, but I remember I had to stay the rest of the night at Ms. Gable's house. She told me my mom was going to a place where people could help her fix her life. The next day my aunt and uncle would move into my old house and take care of me.
I was watching TV and the news program came on. "Breaking news: A local molestation case gone wrong. Resident Alicia DeSousa was being taken into custody on accusations of her own daughter when she attacked one of the apprehending officers. DeSousa stabbed said officer and broke for her car. She managed to get to downtown Westfield before the police caught up with her and brought her into custody. Now not only is DeSousa being charged with molestation, but with attempted murder and resistance of law. I'm Todd Turner with the seven o'clock news. Thank you and good night."
My mother had been taken to jail, and she had tried to kill a policeman to save her own ass. She was a monster. She was horrible. Words couldn't really described how much I...hated her for everything she'd done. Not only had she mentally scarred me for life, but she had left me without a loving parent. My aunt and uncle, they were no Swiss Family Robinson.
I never had a normal life, and I never will. This will always be my past. We can't all be perfect, though.
I probably should have told you my name before I told you my life's story.
My name is Bianca DeSousa and I am now seventeen years old. I haven't seen my mother in four years, but I guess that's a blessing. Thanks to the government, I was able to get therapy to become "normal." When my mother left me, she left me with a fear of women ten years older than me. A little silly, but I'm over it now.
The good news is: I start my new school today. I get to see new people and maybe make a few new friends.
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