From: bobandcarole@aol.com   
      
   Story: Amanda's Secret Memories   
      
     by bobandcarole   
      
   "Introduction"   
      
   I can't remember anyone calling me Amanda much after I started my period...   
      
   I remember that morning just like it was yesterday. It was late June   
   1984. It   
   was the beginning of a new existence for me. My needs, passions, and   
   desires all   
   began to change that day. All the events in this story are true...The   
   facts are   
   recorded in my diaries. I have changed some names to protect the guilty.   
      
   "The Story"   
      
   It all started just before my 11th birthday. It was a Friday morning. I   
   had just   
   woken up. As I started to get out of bed I felt wetness between my legs.   
   I had   
   never wet the bed before. I wondered why it was wet now. When I looked   
   on to the   
   bed I could see that it was covered in blood. I looked between my legs.   
   I was   
   covered in blood. I started to scream. I thought I was dying. My mother came   
   into the room and immediately knew what was happening. I could see my daddy   
   standing in the doorway looking at me with a strange smile on his face. He   
   didn't come into the room. He just stood in the doorway staring at me.   
   Finally,   
   my mom got up and closed the door. I could hear her telling him that   
   this was   
   girl stuff.   
      
   Over the next several weeks my mother explained to me what it was to be a   
   female. She told me about all the functions of the vagina, uterus, and   
   ovaries.   
   She told me about the differences between men and women. She told me about   
   intercourse and how it produced a baby.   
      
   "Amanda," she said. "You are very young to be starting your period. Some   
   girls   
   start very early. You just happen to be one of them."   
      
   I wondered why my daddy acted as though nothing had happened. He never said   
   anything to me about what he saw that morning. I wanted so badly for my   
   daddy to   
   talk to me about it. He never really talked to me about anything. He had   
   always   
   been kind to me. He would let me do almost anything I wanted, but he   
   would never   
   hold me in his arms. He never showed me any affection at all. I remember   
   asking   
   my mom if my daddy loved me. She told me that some men just didn't know   
   how to   
   show affection.   
      
   I wasn't into socializing very much with children of my own age. My   
   interests   
   seemed so different from theirs. On Saturdays I would spend my days at the   
   public library. I would read books about faraway places. I would imagine   
   myself   
   on an African adventure. I imagined myself hunting wild beasts, like   
   lions and   
   tigers. Things changed for me the day I started my period. I became obsessed   
   with finding out more information about sex. I read every adult book I could   
   find. In a short while I thought I knew everything there was to know   
   about sex.   
   I began to fantasize about what it would be like the first time a man would   
   touch me. I wondered if it would hurt terribly when he put his penis   
   inside my   
   vagina for the first time. I wondered what it would be like to touch a man's   
   penis. I thought I had learned so much. My mother and the books taught   
   me a lot,   
   but I had never experienced anything.   
      
   One day when my parents weren't home I was snooping through my father's   
   den...I   
   had done this many times before. On this particular day a drawer that was   
   usually locked was left open. When I opened the drawer I saw that it was   
   full of   
   pocketbooks. They looked like very cheap books. They had simple covers   
   with no   
   pictures. There must have been over thirty books in the drawer. I pulled   
   all the   
   books out onto the floor. As I lifted the last book out of the drawer I   
   saw a   
   key lying on the bottom of it. I tried the key in the lock of the   
   drawer. It was   
   the key for the drawer. I sat in my daddy's big chair and started to   
   read one of   
   the books. I couldn't believe what I was reading.   
      
   Rape, Murder, Bondage, Torture, Incest, Bestiality...   
      
   I had no idea what the meanings of the words were. I felt terrified at   
   first.   
   They were talking about things I had never dreamt of. I was almost finished   
   reading the book when I looked up to see what time it was. I almost   
   died. I had   
   been sitting in his chair for over two hours. It was almost 4:00   
   p.m...My daddy   
   would be home any minute. I threw all the books back into the drawer and   
   closed   
   it. For some reason I kept the key.   
      
   Every night for the next several days all I could think about was the   
   contents   
   of those books. I wondered why my father would have them. I wondered if   
   that was   
   why he never touched me. Was it because I wasn't like the girls in his   
   books?   
   Was it because he was afraid that if he were to touch me he wouldn't be   
   able to   
   stop himself? I had tried so many times to sit on my daddy's knee. He always   
   lifted me off of him. I would sit beside him on the couch hoping that he   
   would   
   put his arm around me and cuddle me close to him. He always acted as if   
   I wasn't   
   there. Was this what my daddy wanted? Did he want to do the things that   
   were in   
   his books? I decided to take another look at his books.   
      
   One afternoon while my mother was in the kitchen and my father was at work I   
   snuck back to his office and stole another of his books. I took the book   
   up to   
   my room. I spent the afternoon reading it. It was a story about a young   
   girl.   
   She was eight years old. She had been kidnapped by a bunch of men. They did   
   terrible things to her. They made her take all her clothes off. They   
   beat her   
   and tied her up. They put their penises in her mouth. When they were   
   finished   
   with her they cut her up with knives. They killed her. Then they fed her   
   body to   
   their dogs.   
      
   I was sweating when I finished the book. My body was trembling. I hardly had   
   enough energy to get off my bed and take the book back before my father came   
   home. Over the next few days I read every book that was it my father's   
   office. I   
   had read stories about girls with animals, girls being made into sex   
   slaves, and   
   murder and mutilation. A part of me found the stories totally revolting.   
   They   
   made me feel sick to my stomach. But another part of me found them   
   intriguing.   
   The one thing I noticed in all the stories was how much the men wanted to be   
   with the girls. They would do anything to have a girl for themselves. It   
   excited   
   me to think about men wanting me that badly. I didn't think about the   
   terrible   
   things that happened to the girls. All I could think about was the attention   
   they got. Every night when I went to bed I would put my hands between my   
   legs   
   and pretend it was a man doing it. I couldn't get the stories out of my   
   mind.   
   Getting so much attention from a stranger, like the girls in my daddy's   
   books   
   was all I could think about.   
      
   It was 9:00 AM Saturday morning. I was getting ready to go downtown to the   
   library. My daddy was having coffee at the kitchen table. He looked over his   
   newspaper at me. He sat there staring at me for what seemed an   
   eternity...I was   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)