EXTRACT FOR
My Heart's Desire 1: Opening To Possibilities
(Author Unknown)

Forward by Rachel

    

    Welcome!

    

    Welcome to my story, this story is my life; it has no ending and really has no beginning. I guess it's a story that's been played out a million times by a million people. Played out everywhere by generation after generation and I firmly believe will continue to be played out, well after I'm gone. This is a story that can be recognised in many places, by many people, as each of us has our own story to tell and each story is shared with just a hint of similarity.

    What happened to me touched me deeply and changed my life forever, if reading this tale touches you at all, if at any time you recognise yourself in it, don't be surprised and please don't worry, because in a way.... we're all in it. It's what you do with the recognition that counts; it's what you do with your desire that really counts. If this story creates a knot in your tummy, even a small one, if this story allows your mind to daydream or even allows you to acknowledge a compulsion to do something, anything at all, then my friend's please, please, please take notice. Take note that there is something for you to do, something that you need to do, take courage, don't worry and above all forget the emotions of the past and all that happened there. Just simply be prepared to allow yourself to follow your heart's desire!

    My name is Rachel Roberts and eighteen short months ago I would rather end it all than allow someone to know what you are about to find out. I would much rather have allowed my short and inexperienced life to end there and then, than face the shame of anyone knowing my secret.

    During the last eighteen months, I have ventured to places in my heart and in my dreams that have shown me magic, love, intoxicating beauty and absolute bliss. This story is sexually graphic, it is that way deliberately because sex is at the core of my journey to liberation and freedom and I carry no shame or guilt in saying so, or in telling it this way. I have learned that if someone finds my story to be distasteful or crude, which believe me I was one of them, then I'm sorry but that person has issue's that they need to deal with, as I dealt with mine. Issues, that they need to explore and try to discover where their boundaries lie and discover why they simply cannot allow themselves to be free. They don't get to dump their guilt on anyone else; because quite simply, it's not allowed anymore. Guilt....Oh yes! We all know that one, don't we? Well.... guilt I have learned is self-imposed and stops us all, each of us, from living.

    I have discovered that all things are okay.... all things!

    That within reason anything can be made or become sensual and loving, providing all involved give absolute permission to be a part of the experience and here's the hard part; permission that is unconditional.

    I have learned that for many of us we don't have wonderful, exciting lives because we simply are too afraid to allow it to be. And there's the other problem that roots us to the spot!.... Fear!

    My story is about sex and shame and guilt and fear, but above all, it's about love and giving my heart what it really wants, it's about giving my heart what it really, truly desires. I'm just twenty-seven years old and have lived for only eighteen months or put another way, I have been alive for just eighteen months. For more than twenty-five years I existed in a state of shamefulness, guilt and fear; it was without doubt hell manifest on earth, but with much help, guidance, patience and above all love, I eventually found that I had created it for myself. I had created a hell that I had imposed on me, no one but me, I did it all by myself and made bloody damn sure that no one could save me. I have learned that both heaven and hell exist, but exist here on earth and it is we that can create both, it is we who choose to live our lives in hell or we can choose to live our lives in heaven. 

    When I was very small I began to have nightmares, it was always the same reoccurring nightmare and to a small child it was more frightening than anything imaginable. For years I would wake screaming, literally shaking with fear, my poor Mother could do nothing to console me, even a child psychologist could not get anywhere near the truth. I spent as much time being afraid of the questions and the probing, as I did about the nightmares themselves. I was so afraid you see, so deeply afraid that if I told, they would get me, quite simply.... the eyes! would come and get me.

    So I told no one, the nightmares without exception were always the same, it was always very graphic in detail and I would appear always in the same room. It was always so brightly lit that I would barely be able to keep my eyes open; there would always be no door and always, no chance of escape. The four walls, ceiling and floor would always be whiter than white and in the middle of the room a low, long chair, covered in white sheep skin rugs. On each wall were windows, far too high for me to see through and exactly nine on each wall, the windows were too small to see anyone's face, all I could ever see were their eyes.... looking at me.... staring at me.... always just watching me!

    Simple child stories became absolute assurances that if I told anyone they would come and get me, Little Red Riding Hood, Chicken Licken and worst of all, The Big Bad Wolf and the Three Little Pigs, Why? Why? Why? do grown-ups think that these stories are entertaining to young children, I have a message.... THEY ARE NOT!

    I shunned other children who wanted to be friends, I didn't ever speak to my parent's and no one was allowed to get close to me, I was afraid that they might find the awful truth about 'my secret'.

    Childhood for me was a lonely and frightening experience, my first period came early, I wasn't yet eleven years old and knew absolutely nothing about such things, my mother, apologised almost every week to me for nearly ten years. She said that she had decided that as her first period came when she was thirteen, she would tell me all about the birds and the bees on my twelfth birthday. For me it was all really very, very simple.... it merely confirmed that they were close and that they were going to steal me.... bit by bit.... from the inside out!

    Within a week of my first period the nightmare changed, it became more sinister and confirmed my suspicions, now my night gown would lift up and expose my legs and even worse, expose me right up to my tummy. I knew full well it would be soon, soon those cold, ever present eyes would come and they would have me.... but still I could tell no one.

    My twelfth birthday turned out to be quite prolific, as on the eve of my birthday the nightmare twisted again, they were now forcing me to raise my nightie to my head and play with myself, something I knew I absolutely was forbidden to do. I woke in a fit of tears and screams, it felt as if my vagina had exploded, I didn't dare touch or look, I just knew it was gone and I laid there.... crying pitifully in the dark.... afraid, alone and convinced that they, the eyes, had come and stolen it.

    At thirteen, this became the routine, masturbating in my sleep, being forced to do it while they watched. My early teens were wrapped in shame, such deep shame....I learned many years later that shame feeds guilt and my deep anxiety based on shame was replaced by a deep anxiety based on guilt. If I could not tell anyone before, I definitely could tell no one now.

    I spent all of my mid-teen's keeping boy's away from me, I knew full well what they wanted, I knew all they wanted was my secret and that just wasn't going to happen. At sixteen the nightmare changed again, now they would make me become completely naked, now I would have to have sex with a boy, lots of different boys and as always, the never satisfied eyes would watch.... as I had sex with them.

    Hardly surprising then, that boys were kept well away from me as sex had become sordid and dirty, as sex had clearly become the centre of my nightmares. I developed a really irritating habit of blushing at anything remotely sexual, if someone said something or looked at me for more than a second.... I blushed! I was teased endlessly by everyone and couldn't hide; when I blushed they would laugh at me and point fingers at me and sing out "Rachel's thinking about sex again!" I would blush again, beetroot red and inside, all I wanted.... was to die!

    At nineteen, I finally lost my virginity for real, Paul was sweet and refused to be put off by anything I said or did, it took nearly nine months before I let him kiss me and a further nine months before I let him have me. There was strictly no foreplay; anything that involved hands or mouths was out of the question. Except that is the finger I always put in my mouth and bit down on really hard, desperately trying to overcome my agonising shame and my overwhelming guilt. After the third time, I could take the pressure no more and refused to let him anywhere near me; even Paul, eventually got the message.

    At twenty, I went to college, I had spent a long time trying to find something to do that was not sexy, that did not involve getting close to people, something that would just leave me alone, leave me and my screwed up life alone. I wanted something that wasn't exciting, that wouldn't involve a uniform, a short skirt or a change of clothes, that if I had to talk to someone they would be old, fat and bald.

    Yes, you've guessed.... I chose to study accountancy!

    As soon as I started my new life, something happened that rocked me to the core, not only were the nightmare's increasing in frequency but I was now day dreaming them as well, but worse, far, far worse than that, something was happening in that room that I simply wasn't prepared for. I began to have sex with girl's.... I was mortified and the more I tried to repress my daydreams the more real they felt and the more explicit they became!

    In that room there was absolutely nothing that didn't happen; I nearly died one day, I was approached by a really lovely girl called Sally, Sally made it very clear to me what she wanted, I decided there and then it was time to have a pretend boyfriend.

    Graham loved me, or at least he said so a million times, although looking back I really don't know why. I felt such deep shame about girls that I let him have me the first time we went out, I laugh now but I bit my finger so hard it actually bled and for a long time I tried to make sure we did nothing fancy.

    Eventually he pleaded, he needed to spice things up a little and in a very cold mechanical way, we did the hand thing and we did the mouth thing, but always in doors and always at night and always between the sheets and always, always I didn't want to. It was sheer hell for me, but the shame or guilt, call it what you will, fell far short of the hell my new dream was taking me through.... with another girl?

    I graduated and found an excuse to leave the area and to leave Graham! I managed to get a job at an accountancy firm and dressed every day in the most bland and unsexy clothes I could find and as I did all of my life, I hid myself away, until one day fate plotted against me, or as I now understand, fate plotted to save me.

    The day dreams continued though, followed by my nightmare of no holds barred, girl on girl filth, they had even mutated to threesomes, when out of the blue the firm I worked for closed and the only job I could find was twenty miles away in Bristol. I had no job, nowhere to live and no friends, life was a complete drudgery; life was just something I didn't need.

    I smiled very little and never ever laughed, I was so screwed up and depressed, I felt suicidal all the time, I needed something to happen and I needed it to happen quickly before it was too late. I found my way to Bristol and worked out where my new place of work would be and pleaded, with both hands together, for somewhere to live that would be affordable and close. I didn't know where to start, so I just followed my nose and walked, after ten minutes or so I stopped at a corner shop and bought some sweets, chocolate and coffee were my only comforts and I really needed some comfort.

    In the shop window I couldn't help but notice a little tiny, scribbled note that read:

    

    "Wanted! Dippy screwball for flat share!" 

    "Oh! And there's a man in the house, but don't worry, he's very dishy????"

    

    I actually chuckled; I had never seen such a wonderful, uplifting piece of paper. Especially as it finished off by saying:

    

    "Can't wait to meet you, Luv 'n' Hugs XXXX Your next experience!"

    

    To my complete surprise, I asked the shopkeeper where South Park Terrace was and raced round, at the age of twenty-five I had had two failed unhappy romances and had no friends. In me was enough psychosis to be the centre of study groups for years, but the knot in my tummy compelled me to go?

    Trembling, which was normal and giggling, which was not normal, I knocked on the door. I didn't realise that when that door opened my life would change forever. I didn't know that when that door opened my 'next experience' would come to call me a prude, it would be a while before I realised she was wrong?

    A better description would actually be, 'a self-imposed, self-inhibited, self-indulged, timid, frigid, introverted, clinically disturbed, shrivelled up old prune' desperate for something, desperate to do something, simply compelled to be here, right now. 

    We are all.... all of us Angels.

    It is our choice to use our wings!

    Enjoy Everything!

    

    Rachelxx

    



Chapter 1

We Choose Our Own Heaven And Our Own Hell!

    

    Those exceptionally bright and beautiful emerald, green eye's had become quite misty, pearls of glistening sweat had trickled, quite slowly but surely from her forehead and onto her delicate painted lashes. The salt was stinging, causing a disorientating haziness and making it difficult for Rachel to see. Amidst her heavy panting, she clenched them shut-tight for several seconds and then tried to focus on the river, not more than a few yards away, the almost dazzling and clear full-moon bathed everything in bright white light and sheep could be heard bleating, somewhere far away in the distance.

    The heady smell of mint hung, languishing in the fresh night air and the moon's mirrored perfection, shimmered and darted across the flowing water like tiny fire-fly's, a fish jumped! "Oh! Swim away little fish!" she said silently "be free!"

    Again Rachel tried to focus, this time on the bank on the far side. She could just about see the faint outline of a footpath that seemed to follow the water's edge, Rachel's heart leapt and banged in her chest, as she saw movement?.... she could see it?.... it was right there? Right there, there might be someone watching?.... almost hoping, almost praying, she thought that somebody might be watching. Deeply disappointed, she realised it was just a sheep. 

    Rachel was totally exhausted and wasn't at all sure how much more torture she could take; her long slim legs had become quite weak and were now shaking from standing on tiptoe for well over an hour. She tried to lower her heavy and weary head to her chest and as she looked down, she saw tiny beads of sweat forming across her bare, naked breasts and dripping down her long since exposed shimmering, stripped body. She watched as they travelled, mesmerised by their tantalising, silent, secret touch, as the beads coupled with other droplets and became larger, increasing speed as they went, until they could be clearly felt meeting down below, down between her aching legs and then trickle slowly down the inside of her thighs.

    They were both fully erect, her extended nipple's had been tortured and abused for so long, they were now acting like tiny throbbing antenna, detecting even the smallest of breezes, which made every part of her tingle and sent waves of painful bliss down into her stomach and down further still.

    Even though it was late, it was still a very hot and clammy June night and without a cloud in the sky there was no chance of any rain. "Rain" she thought, almost pleading "rain might wash me clean, or at least give me some strength back?" again she looked up, hoping in vain that there would be someone watching.

    Tied tightly together, Rachel's hands and wrists had been placed either side of a thick branch, just low enough to keep her his prisoner, just high enough to strain every bone and every muscle in her tiny petite little body, making her ache and yet somehow come alive from being so completely stretched.

    It had begun suddenly in a complete and unexpected frenzy, that teasingly thin cotton summer dress offered no protection for her, as he yanked and pulled violently at that suggestive buttoned opening at the front. Immediately, the first four or five buttons came clean off, opening up and offering tantalising glimpses of her thin, red-laced bra and delicate, soft uncovered skin. This seemed to only spur him on and again his large, firm, determined hands gripped tight and started to rip and tear and pull at Rachel's delicate clothing. Then he grabbed the loose, now flapping material and yanked them violently over her shoulders, shredding the beautiful dress and pinning her arms immediately to her sides.

    His back bent forward, bringing his horrible unshaven stubble close to her face. Desperately, Rachel tried to pull away, but the only reward for her pathetic efforts, was to have the dress ripped down to her hips and freeing her arms. Not even stopping for a single second to admire his handy work and almost in one sweeping movement, the dress was wrenched down to the ground and left, discarded and unwanted, wrapped around her shaking feet.

    Breathlessly and in shock, Rachel tried in vain to cover her breasts; she pulled her trembling hands under her chin, almost in prayer and brought her elbows together, desperately looking and hoping for some protection. But instead, he pushed the tips of his fat grubby fingers into the top of her delicate matching red-lace knickers and within a second, they were torn clean off.... ripped apart as if they were made of nothing more than tissue paper and discarded without further thought.

    He then snarled, almost in a snorting growl, almost panting with excitement and sheer lust at the tantalising, succulent sight before him.

    "Take it off.... or I'll rip it off!"

    Rachel physically jumped and did immediately as she was commanded and without hesitation, fumbled and eventually undid the fastener at the front and let her bra, her only and last piece of cover, fall to the grass to join the torn dress, exposing her, all of her, naked from head to toe. Using her hands, she tried to cover her now exposed pussy and dropped her head, trembling, fidgeting and just simply engulfed by what had just happened to her. Looking down at the mud and the grass; completely confused, she wondered what would happen to her next. 

    He grabbed one of Rachel's hands and pulled her to a branch, wrenching her arms high into the air and that's where she stayed as his repeatedly tortured and abused slave. He had used his own belt to tie her tightly to the tree; unable to move, escape completely out of the question, then he had covered her head with his T-shirt so she couldn't see where the sickening blows were coming from.

    Again she was desperate to use her arms for some protection, but felt helpless without them, of course he knew this and after a while Rachel had been overcome with a complete sense of hopelessness.... but he knew this too. After what seemed like forever, he must have thought it would be more torturous, perhaps more fun, more pleasing even for Rachel to see it coming and to anticipate the pain, so he had removed her make-shift blind fold.

    Rachel could see he was now as naked as she was, his penis incredibly large, his erection engorged and expectant, he had made his intentions more than clear, Rachel began to tremble.... it was becoming unbearable! Tied naked to a tree, in an open field, next to a river, Rachel could feel the swirl of cool air caressing and smoothing every part of her, making a million goose bumps come alive and making her more sensitive to everything that touched her.

    "It's too much!" she gasped.

    Rachel yelped out loud "bastard!" he had begun hitting her again, battering her little feeble body with a long, thin, flexible, whip like stick. Her backside began to burn like hot ashes; each and every deliberate thwack had left its clear mark, as red lines started to criss-cross against her bare flesh. It had now been thrashed that many times her bum felt as if all of it were aflame. The tops of her legs and her breasts had all had the same treatment and now she was feeling woozy, her head had become a swirling, jumbled mass of disjointed thought and pain.

    During one of the brief and rare moments of pause, Rachel hung her dizzy head once more and murmured "how has it come to this?"

    His big rough hands were all over her, grabbing at her, playing and kneading at her breasts and back, touching her, pulling her, poking her, stroking her, rubbing her, sometimes really hard, sometimes quite soft and gentle and sometimes his desperate long, thick fingers stabbed and plunged deeply inside her, filling and stretching her besieged and battered pussy to the very limit. Sometimes, he used his tongue instead and he had licked and bit every available piece of exposed and trembling naked skin from her weary head to her tingling toes.

    He couldn't hide his sheer delight when he had found an empty bottle and now and again had gone to the water's edge and with sickening intent come back to splash freezing cold water all over her battered naked flesh. Sometimes, he would pour some into his hands, which he would then rub straight onto Rachel's whipped and sore pussy lips.

    Then he would pick up the whip and start the torture over and over and over again. There was absolutely no let up, Rachel knew she was on the edge as her trembling became more violent, she simply had no control over her own body anymore, as he knelt in front of her and pulled her viciously onto his thick extended tongue. It rasped hard and deep at her pussy, hopelessly separating and opening her lips completely and instantly filled by his fat, searching, extended tongue. His teeth clenched hard and grabbed violently, yanking and pulling at her clitoris, until she thought it would tear clean off and he bit at her soft delicate inner fleshy folds time after time.

    He forced her weary right leg up over his left shoulder to get at her pussy lips more easily and then thrust a long, long finger deep inside her and then another, pushing and pushing and forcing them both deeply inside her. Rachel's little body began to shake uncontrollably, tiny painful electric darts were shot straight through her, as her back began to arch. Her eye's rolled as her head fell back and she bit at her lip, as yet another huge orgasm sent her heart pounding in her chest and her pussy forced to spasm around his fat, long merciless fingers.

    Unable to move, Rachel hung there, limp and completely motionless, all strength and fight were now gone, her legs were simply unable to carry her any longer and she felt vulnerable and utterly exposed. She knew he was standing in front of her, she just knew that there would be more and that he wasn't finished with her yet, she could feel the heat radiating from his naked body and the slow almost deliberate draw of his breath. Rachel didn't dare open her eyes for fear of inviting more of his attempts to humiliate her, in case he administered more of his whipping game on her already ravaged bum. Without a word his immensely strong arms lifted her clean off the ground and pulled her tight to him, Rachel's soft delicate breasts were pressed, as if in a vice, against his steel like chest.

    To him she must have seemed no heavier than a rag doll!

    He snorted as he pulled her closer to him and then lifted her limp body up higher, pushing he had no trouble or resistance as he forced a strong leg between hers. Rachel's tired and exhausted legs were easily pushed apart, making them open and making them push one each side of him, pushing her knee's up and pinning them to the sides of his bare chest.

    Rachel kept her eyes clenched shut and held her breath, she knew exactly what was coming, she knew now she was his slave, exhausted she had given in and submitted to become his play-thing during which he had made her climax three times already. He had rubbed her almost raw with his fingers and his tongue and now her delicious pussy was wet and open and to him.... ready and inviting.