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” Dad answered with a far away look in his eyes. “She'll be down stairs most of the night with her thugs and hoodlums and heading to the college gym first thing in the morning. She told me she has to calm the out of town basketball players of their tension and lust before they play the black, college basketball team.”“I'm curious about something dad.” I said.“What is it dear?” Dad asked.“I know what tension is but I've heard mom and the guys mention lust a lot. What is lust dad?” I asked, really not knowing what lust meant.“I actually don't know Barbie. I never heard anyone talking about lust before when I was in College, going through to be a priest. The first time I heard it was when your mother said it. I've never asked her, not wanting her to think I was stupid.” Dad answered. “Lust probably has to do with intense anger I suppose. It doesn't really matter as long as your mom helps the hoodlums and thugs. I only came in to see how your evening went. I should get back. The pain from the shocks is still there. I feel like I’m being pulled forward by the pleasure and pushed forward by the pain, as I frantically push the head of my dick into and out of the hole in front of me. I feel something building up inside of me, an avalanche of feelings.Then the pain strikes again. It’s incredible, indescribable. It feels like my nerves are being flensed apart, layer by layer, cell by cell. I pull out again. The horrible pain ends, leaving just the dull, ordinary pain and my burning need. I was close to something before the pain, close to something I desperately want to happen. But the pain is there waiting for me. I endure the shocks for a silent minute. But my need doesn’t recede and I cannot ignore the torture being inflicted on me. I need it to end, even if I have to torture myself to do it.I push back into the hole and the pain is instant. I can’t help but scream with it. My savaged throat adds another not to the symphony of agony in my body. But despite.
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