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Somehow having different desires than most girls didn't bother her at all. The only thing that bothered her was the difficulty she had in getting enough of the special kind of loving she craved. She remembered Tony, the boy who had made her a woman -- as her girl friends referred to it -- and everything that happened that day. With her fingers still caressing the sensitive flesh of her pubes and anus, she closed her eyes and remembered what had happened five years before when she was only fourteen.Tony was two years older than Maisie and her mother had noticed that he had been paying a lot of attention to her pretty, blossoming young daughter."Maisie," she said to her, "remember when you started having your curse a couple of years ago and I told you there were very important things I'd tell you later?"Maisie nodded. She flinched at her mother's use of the old-fashioned word "curse". Why couldn't she have one of those modern moms, the kind that weren't so down on sex?Her mother then. My ears try to pick up what they are talking about, they seem to be waiting for someone or something. I hear the creak of the old oak doors slowly opening, and a low haunting chant begins. A monotonous beating of a stick against the marble floor resonates through my body. The low chant builds in volume, growing more intense, and the hypnotic rhythm of men’s voices and the constant wood against marble sound fills the room, nearly overwhelming me. There is a loud final beat from the stick and silence falls once more. From the silent room, my Master’s voice emanates, so warm and deep, sending shivers down my spine. ‘Hail, Gentlemen. Welcome to this special evening.’ There is a round of applause and cheers, until the room falls silent again, and my Master speaks once more: ‘We have our sacrifice to lust!’ he pronounces, as my stomach tightens with fear and anticipation. The low rhythm begins again, the beat hard and sharp. The hypnotic tones draw closer to me, and I begin to struggle.
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