Midge’s Story Ch. 02

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Chapter 2


I told Millie to stay in her room. If Dad asked what was wrong tell him “Girl things” and ask him for some Motrin. My dad did a hell of a job for being stuck raising two girls without their mother, but some things, he just couldn’t get comfortable with. When it came to “Girl things”, the best he could usually manage was a glass of water, a heating pad, a dose of Motrin, and a phone — usually with my cousin Nadia on the other end. I knew he would sooner die than try to keep track of our cycles — Millie has only been getting hers for six or eight months anyway. He’d just stay away until Millie called him again. [Unrelated — this was also our go-to for getting whatever Door Dash we wanted.]

Once I had her stashed, I thought about trying figure out what was going on. From what I’d seen of myself and Millie, I was ready to believe what I saw on those Instagram videos wasn’t faked. If only men thought they were, then maybe this was something that was happening to all women. How could that be? I had to assume that whatever was making me stronger had something to do with my crazy appetite. That meant it had to be some kind of biology. I needed a doctor. Fortunately I knew where to find one.

Milton Sakowitz was my friend from when I was in kindergarten. He was as nerdy as his name would lead you to believe. Five foot five inches and maybe 120lbs of nearsighted asthmatic manliness. In elementary school I would scare off bullies that harangued him. In middle school, he was the only boy who would talk to me after my crazy growth spurt. We stayed friends in high school. It was never romantic. Most people thought I just had him locked in the Friend Zone, but that wasn’t it. Once my twins came in, Milton was, literally, the only boy I knew who didn’t seem to notice. I tried setting him up with one or two friends. They would go on dates and usually have a nice time — he took one to a local theatre production and another to see a spoken word poetry thing. He always showed up nicely dressed, was polite with parents, had the girls home at the appointed time — one friend even commented how charming and pleasant he was. He never made a pass or laid an unwelcome — or any – hand on any of them.

Finally, I set him up with Janet Thomas — one of my best friends, and, frankly, a total slut. After their date, I asked her what happened. She looks at me and says, “Midge, I threw everything at him, but he wasn’t having it. I got kind of insulted. Then he explained.:

I had to know, “Explained what?”

“Midge,” Janet told me, “That boy is queerer than a three-dollar bill.”

I was like, “That’s it? Why didn’t he just tell me?”

Janet answered, “Did you ask?”

I hadn’t. It changed things a little for me and Milton — mostly it made things easier. None of that mattered right now. What mattered was Milton’s parents were both doctors. His mom was a gynecologist, and his dad did something in genetics. They might be able to explain this.

I wanted to look, I don’t know, “professional”. I pulled off my leggings and t-shirt and found a medium blue sweater dress with a flared skirt. It looked nice. It was snug on my boobs, so I put a bright red blazer over it. I mussed my hair and little, grabbed my phone, wallet, and keys and was off.


I screeched to a halt in Melvin’s driveway. I loved my car. It was a gift from my grandmother — my mom’s family is loaded – like loaded-loaded. We all call her “The Dragon Lady” she’s a little scary, but she gives great presents. This one was a racing blue with white racing stripes Shelby GT500KR — 900hp, 0-60 before most guys could get the pedal to the floor. It could corner like Satan and ride like Jesus. I called her the Blue Bitch (tag B33ATCH)

I was out of the car and on the front porched in maybe three strides. I rang the bell. Milton answered the door and I bolted in. “Did you get my text?” I asked

“Yeah, Midge, I did,” He answered, adding, “Did you get mine?”

I looked at my phone, “What do you mean your parents aren’t here?”

Milton replied, “I would think that would be self-explanatory. They are at our cabin for a weekend. They were going to come home this morning. Mother called and said they were going to take an extra day”

“Well, shit,” was all that I could think of. Then I asked, “Milton, do they have any, like, medical books?” He looked at me and point to a door off the sitting room. We went in. It was his parents’ shared home office. There were two walls of books. I had no idea where to start. “Is there anything on mutation or that sort of thing?” I really had no clue.

“There might be in my dad’s journal collections, over here.” Milton said we walked over to a corner, and he started pulling some bound journals for us to leaf through. güvenilir bahis It was warm in the office, and I took off my blazer. “We could look at these,” he gestured to a section of books.

Milton had filled out a bit in recent years. He was still skinny, but he’d built some muscle. I could tell through his shirt that he had. More lean than bulky, but definitely there. He also smelled really nice.

I am really, really, really, sorry about what happened next. I am still really embarrassed about it, even though Milton has since forgiven me, and we have put it behind us.

We reached for the same book. I our hands touched. His back brushed in front of me — gliding across the nipple of my left breast. I don’t know what came over me. I honestly don’t. It’s like I was consumed with an overwhelming need to fuck this little fag’s brains out right there in the office and nothing could stopped me — not even myself.

My hand that was reaching for the book grabbed his that was. I spun him around and pinned that hand over the bookshelf over his head and jammed his body between mine and the shelves and kissed him. He tried to squirm away, so I threw him on the floor — hard. Then I was on him. I ripped off his pants and underwear in one motion and began massaging his dick as a straddled his legs.

He was slowly stiffening, but I needed it now. He protested, but I don’t think I even heard him. I flipped around and pinned his head and shoulders and arms with my legs. Then I took him in my mouth. He kept struggling. I was aware of it but couldn’t make myself care — I just needed sex so badly. Once he was in my mouth, it didn’t seem to much matter that I was a girl. He was hard as a rock in a few seconds. Not at particularly big rock. Not as big as Brad. Certainly not as big as the college guy a few years back. He would have to do.

I released my thigh lock on his upper body and spun back to straddling him. He begged — “Midge. Please stop, Midge, don’t” I was too overcome to stop. He tried to get up, but I pushed him down with one hand.

“Help me! Please! Someone!” He yelled. He tried to push me off, but he wasn’t nearly strong enough. He strained against me with everything he had, but it was no use. I was mostly out of my mind with lust but remembered him doing that and thinking, “How is he so weak?” I grabbed his hands and held them over his head with one of mine. I pulled my panties to the side and lowered onto him.

He yelled again, “Oh God, Midge. Stop. Oh god, It’s so tight. You’re crushing –” I cut him off by putting my free hand over his mouth. He tried turning his head to get his mouth loose, so I pressed his head back into the floor trapping him.

I knew he was a lot smaller than the only other guy I’d ever had in me, but it felt so much tighter. The other guy it felt like he was stretching me out, but this was different. Like my pussy was squeezing him. Apparently, it was. If I’d let my gagging hand go, he would have been screaming that at me. I was building to orgasm so quickly — faster that I usually did doing it to myself. I’d never cum with anyone else in the room, but I didn’t care now who else was there. I looked at down at him. He was helpless. I’d overpowered him effortlessly and completely. I started thrusting harder as I came. I let go off his mouth and hands, he was screaming in pain. He was yelling, “Oh god, oh god… It’s… it’s… too… too… tight… I’m cumming… it’s. Stuck… oh god… It. Won’t. Come. Out…” I thrusted harder — I was literally out of my mind as I came. Milton just screamed and screamed I started to come down then I felt him start to spurt inside me. The screaming stopped. I looked down and he had passed out. I lifted myself off of him. His thing flopped out. It was leaking cum and blood. It was reddish purple. So were his hips, neck, and chest from the pounding. He was still breathing — I was worried for a second that I’d fucked him to death. As it was, I fucked him unconscious.

I was scared and horrified at what I’d done.

I fixed my panties, grabbed my purse and keys, and ran out of the house.


I don’t think I stopped for a red light or stop sign the whole way home. That I made it safely, I thought, was some sort of divine providence that I knew I certainly didn’t deserve. I ran inside and straight to my room.

I tore off my clothes and got into the shower. In movies and on TV when a girl gets raped, she always goes and takes a hot shower. That’s great, I thought. I’m here in the shower washing off my shame, but I wasn’t raped.

I raped him.

Oh my god — I raped him. Milton. Poor Milton.

I crumpled in the shower and cried.

I was just getting myself together when Millie came into the bathroom. She saw me and asked, “Did you find out anything?” I just started crying again. I güvenilir bahis siteleri wanted to yell at her to go away and to leave me alone, but I knew she was scared too. I was the big sister, and I couldn’t just fall apart. At least while I was still here. For all I knew the police were at Milton’s and about to come here.

“Not yet, MillieBear,” I said, turning off the water as I stood, “but I will think of something.” I got out and she handed me a towel. “How are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m doing Okay, I think,” she replied. “I’m not hungry like I was most of the day,” she added.

I wasn’t either, I thought. What ever happened to us must have made us need all that extra protein, but, now that we had it, the need seemed to level out. “Anything else?”

“I think I broke my bed,” she said. We went into her room. She had a low-posted bed, the foot of which was obviously askew and one of the round posts was cracked. “I was, uh, leaning on it,” she told me.

“Leaning on it?” I asked.

When I was 15, I spent a couple of weeks during the Summer with my cousin Nadia at one of a family’s getaway spot on a lake in Upstate New York. We talked a lot.

“How’s it going with boys?” She asked me out on the dock one afternoon.

“Oh, fine, I guess,” I answered.

“Have you had sex with any of them?” She asked. Nadia was very blunt. I was a little embarrassed, but Nadia was the smartest woman I knew, and wanted to know everything she could teach me about everything.

“Once,” I started, “He was, well ‘older’ — in college -not ‘old-old’.”

“And?” she pressed.

“It wasn’t great.,” I told her, “It wasn’t bad really. It just wasn’t great.”

“Midge,” Nadia said, “You have to know what you like in order to be able to show a guy how to do it to you, so it is great. Have you, made yourself orgasm?” She asked me if I’d ever made myself orgasm. I mean she just came out and asked me — like she was asking me if I’d ever been to Canada.

“Once. With my fingers,” I said looking around as if there might be someone listening.

Nadia got me two, uh, things. One was just purple plastic and vibrated. The other was, well, kind of, “lifelike”. It had veins and everything. She told me to look up some specific videos — not regular porn and try them out.

I knew, looking at that cracked bed post, what I had to do for Millie.

I needed to go shopping.


So you can’t just go to Target and buy a dildo for your little sister.

I could order one, but I’d need to use Dad’s credit card, and there was no easy explanation for that. I knew there was this shop that sold that sort of thing. It was downtown and not in a great area.

I found the shop without any problem. I parked in a garage several blocks away. As I entered the place and bell rang — it was that kind of place. There were a couple of creepy guys looking at various sex toys. I tried to play this as cool as I could. I’d changed into a pair of jeans, and tank top — it was snug — all my tops had been snug lately, a black leather belt, black Doc Martens, my black leather jacket, and a pair of dark sunglasses. I wanted to look “tough” in this part of town. In the end, I looked like a scared girl from the suburbs who very much wanted to look tough.

I examined the various offerings. A lot of them, I thought, were way too big for Millie. I went with two modestly sized ones. Again, like Nadia did, one that was simply a phallic vibrator — this one was bright pink — to go with her room, I laughed. The other was, again as Nadia had chosen for me, more lifelike. It was smaller than the one Nadia had gotten me. Millie was a lot smaller than me, so I thought it might be easier for her to take this size.

I, of course, still only had the two that Nadia had given me. I looked over the available options and selected a really big one. It must have been ten or twelve inches long and as thick as my wrist. Milton — poor Milton — had yelled that I was too tight. Maybe something like this, I thought would loosen things up. I picked up the monster. It had some weight to it. It was rubbery but stood on its own. It had a suction cup on the bottom. That could be useful, I thought. As I handled the beast, I noticed one of the creepy guys staring at me doing so. I looked at him and said, “It’s for my grandmother,” and he scurried away. I paid for my, uh, “things” and left.

I looked like it was going to start raining. I wanted to get back to my car quickly, so I did something dumb. I cut through an alley. I was halfway to the next street when they came up behind me. There were two of them. One was not very big — maybe 5’8″ and 170lbs thinning hair mean blue eyes. The other was a lot bigger, like 250lbs and taller than me. He had dark eyes, black hair and a beard. “Got something for us, girl?” iddaa siteleri the shorter one asked.

I clutched at my purse and bag and turned. I was face-to-face with the taller one. The motherfucker smiled at me. The short one came up behind me he put hand on my throat and pressed a knife to my side. “We don’t want the purse or your new toys, sweetness,” the tall one growled, “We just want a little company.”

I deserved this I thought. For being dumb and taking this shortcut and for what I did to Milton. I’m going to get raped. This is bad, I thought.

Then something weird happened.

It was like time slowed down. I saw everything around me. I sensed where their hands were, and how they stood. I saw all the angles of the alley and the buildings on either side. In my mind I could see dozens of possibilities of how they would both would move next, and certain ones seemed almost, well, certain. It was like I was reading their minds or seeing the future.

There was something else. It was sort of like the hunger I had for sex that came out of nowhere. If I had to call it anything, the only thing I can think to call it is “anger”. But it wasn’t anger. It was anger given form and shape — a skeleton and muscles, but to was somehow more needful than that. It was like something in me was driving me to take aggressive physical action. It had joined with my hunger for sex and taken me over at Milton’s. Here I was still in control. My normal thing would have been to try talking my way out before taking any action — somehow that was off the table now in my mind

I honestly couldn’t believe what I did next — I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t been there.

I dropped my purse and bag, grabbed the knife hand of the guy behind me with one hand and punched the larger guy in front of me with the other. It happened way faster than they could react, but it was like in slow motion for me. The larger guy fell backwards. I twisted and flung the smaller guy into a wall. He recovered and lunged at me with the knife. Again it was like he was moving in slow motion. I just stepped to the side and his arm, and the knife, went by me. I grabbed the arm and twisted it behind his back until I heard a snap – I fucking broke his arm just like that. He screamed, “You fucking cunt! I’ll fucking kill you.” That was the wrong thing to say. Any control I had over the inner demon that drove this violence was slipping away.

I held him like that for a couple of seconds putting more pressure on his mangled arm. Then I smashed him into the wall of the adjacent building — I heard ribs crack. Then I punched him four, five, or six times in the ribs — it was so fast I lost count. I pressed him face first against the wall and ran his stupid fucking face across the rough form stone — scraping the skin off of half his mug. I spun him around — get this — I blew him a kiss and said, “Here’s something I got for you,” and hit him so hard in the face that I’m sure I broke his nose; his head bounced off the building. He crumpled unconsciously to the ground.

The big guy had gotten up, he wrapped his arms around me in a bear hug. I shot my arms up and broke his hold almost without trying. As I turned to face him, he punched at me — I had just enough time to brace my middle against the blow. His fist hit my abs and I heard a crunching sound. I was fine, but he shattered his hand — against me. Shattered. It. Against. Me.

He punched with is other hand. I caught his fist — I fucking caught it – mid-punch — stopping it cold. I tossed him past me and locked his head in my arms — I’d never put anyone in a sleeper hold before but had seen it done — once. It was like that memory was clear as a diagram on how to do it and I recalled suddenly recalled it perfectly. He grabbed at my arms with his good hand and his broken one, but he wasn’t strong enough. Christ — I thought — how strong am I? He pawed at me feebly as I played with him. “What’s the matter, sweetness, too much for you?” I asked flinging him back and forth like a rag doll. He was going out. I released him and pushed him down. I kicked his knee and he wailed like a little bitch.

I picked up my bag and had the best idea ever. I didn’t need that monster dildo after all, but this guy did. I pulled it out of the bag. The guy was crawling away, his buddy knocked out and bleeding on the alley pavement. I grabbed the big guy’s waistband and ripped his pants and underwear. I took the monster cock in one hand and grab his collar with my other, and said, “Here’s some company for you.” With that I speared that motherfucker with the monster cock and rammed it eight inches deep. He screamed. “Don’t be such a little bitch,” I told him. I let go of the end of the dildo stood and kicked it the rest of the way in. I made a fist and punched him in the kidney. “Tighten up, whore!” I laughed at him. He screamed again. I punched him hard in the face. I saw a tooth fly out, and he was knocked out.

I heard sirens coming. I looked over what I had done in awe of it. I grabbed my purse and bag with Millie’s things and ran up the alley.

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