I am twenty years old and currently studying at a private university.

Though it is difficult to admit, the truth is that I am a very lustful girl. Most of the time, my mind is adrift in thoughts of sex. I love watching adult films and leafing through erotic magazines, but my greatest pleasure comes from slipping into a mini skirt, exposing my long, pale, shapely legs, and walking the streets to soak in the gazes of the crowd.

Because of my beauty, men frequently approach me to flirt. While I may be a lewd girl, I am not desperate; at the very least, a man must be handsome for me to consider playing with him. However, those who approach beautiful women are rarely truly striking—they are usually just incredibly confident.

My first sexual experience happened during my first year of high school while attending an all-girls school. Not having men to seduce was a torment, and high school life became a constant cycle of sexual fantasies. On the bus to and from school, men would often take liberties with me—purposely brushing against my breasts or surreptitiously squeezing my buttocks. Instead of feeling fear or disgust, these touches filled me with excitement.

One day, on a whim, I decided to go to school without wearing any panties under my school skirt. The sensation was divine—a cool, breezy feeling of direct contact with the world. Since my uniform was custom-made, the skirt was exceptionally short, making the lack of underwear quite risky and easy to discover. Furthermore, the white shirts provided by our school were the thinnest and most transparent in all of Taipei. Even though my figure was more youthful then than it is now, I was still a constant focal point for passersby.

On the bus that day, someone once again reached out to squeeze my rear. Because I was bare beneath the fabric, his hand felt the warmth of my skin through the thin school skirt, making me even more aroused than usual. I felt my private parts growing slick and wet, but he only touched me briefly; perhaps he hadn't realized the lack of underwear, as he didn't attempt to go any further.

Once I arrived at school, the tension became too much. I slipped into the restroom to masturbate, quickly reaching a trembling climax.

When school let out that afternoon, I didn't head straight home. To prolong the exquisite sensation of being undressed, I wandered the streets until the buses began to run thin. From the bus stop to my house was a considerable distance, but there was a shortcut through a small alleyway. Fearing my mother’s scolding for returning late, I decided to take the path.

...However, that decision led to me being taken by a stranger.

He held a knife to my throat to keep me quiet, then used a rope to bind my hands behind my back. He began to knead my breasts, and the stimulation caused my nipples to harden instantly; below, my core began to weep with moisture. As he reached deep beneath my skirt to explore, he discovered to his delight that I was wearing no underwear at all. He laughed joyfully and kissed me deeply. I offered little resistance. After a period of heavy fondling, he drew out his already turgid member and thrust it violently into my wet heat. The pain was so sharp it nearly made me faint, and I began to struggle, but with my hands bound, my movements only served to excite him, making his thrusts even more ferocious.

Being a novice, I could hardly endure such rough treatment. I wailed in pain, pleading with him to stop, but though he pulled out, he simply turned me around and began to take me from behind. As the rhythm continued, the sharp pain began to soften into a deep, throbbing pleasure. Gazing at the dim streetlights of the alley, as a stranger claimed me on the asphalt, the cries of pain slowly transformed into rhythmic moans. Perhaps unable to withstand my lustful sounds, he reached his climax quickly.

"So good... to take a virgin like this," he murmured with satisfaction, looking at the blood left behind by my maidenhead. He untied my ropes, seemingly having no intention of robbing me or causing further harm. Since he had only lifted my skirt rather than stripping my top, my clothes were mostly in place. I simply used a tissue to wipe away the blood and hurried home. Once there, I told no one of the encounter.

After that incident, I wore panties even less frequently. Except during my period, whether at home or out in public, whether in skirts or trousers, I usually went bare. Once I started using tampons, my underwear was practically relegated to the back of a drawer. Fortunately, since I washed my own lingerie and hung it on the balcony outside my room, my family never suspected a thing. In their eyes, I was merely a well-behaved, average student with a pretty face.

As the years passed and I matured, my allure grew. Even when my clothing wasn't particularly revealing, it was easy to excite people. A stranger once told me, "You make it very easy for a man to get hard." Perhaps it was my innate lewdness, but every movement I made seemed to carry a seductive, coquettish grace. Consequently, just a few months after my first encounter, I was taken a second time.

This happened on a Sunday afternoon. I was wearing a white spaghetti-strap camisole with no bra underneath, layered with a thin, long-sleeved shirt. For my lower half, I wore a soft, ultra-short tight skirt and laced sandals. And, of course, no panties. I rarely wore stockings; partly because my skin was so fair and smooth that they weren't needed, but mostly because they muffled the delicious sensation of being bare. Though later on, I did experiment with garter belts, simply because they looked so beautiful.

My outfit, combined with my pretty face and balanced figure, drew countless eyes. Men and women alike couldn't help but stare, and the attention began to stir a familiar heat within me. I felt the urge to find a restroom to find some relief. I had done this many times before in department store restrooms, but as I was about to close the stall door, someone suddenly pushed it open and crowded inside with me. He clicked the lock shut. To my shock, it was a man. Before I could process what was happening, he covered my mouth and began stripping my shirt. He carried no weapon, relying entirely on brute strength to overpower my resistance; he was a truly powerful man.

He slid his hand between my thighs, intending to pull down my underwear, but his fingers met only the slick warmth of my sex. He looked surprised, momentarily lost for words.

"I was going to use your panties to gag you so you wouldn't scream... but it turns out you're a lustful little thing who isn't wearing any at all. Well, this will have to do."

He captured my lips with his, his tongue sliding deep into my mouth. His tongue was so skilled that before long, my strength vanished, and my resistance melted away.

"That's it... just be a good girl and listen to me, and I won't hurt you. But if you dare scream, you'll regret it." I could only nod in submission.

He sat me upon the toilet seat and pulled off my camisole, exposing my breasts. They weren't large, but they were soft, firm, and perfectly shaped. As my nipples peaked, the curve of my chest was breathtakingly beautiful. He used his agile tongue to suck and lick my areolas and nipples. My breasts were incredibly sensitive, and as the stimulation intensified, my nipples grew rock hard. I let out soft gasps, closing my eyes to savor the sensations. His hand began to wander down my thighs; instinctively, I squeezed my legs together, but he forcefully pried them apart, hiking my skirt up to my waist and teasing my core with his fingers.

Soon, my juices were overflowing. He slid his fingers into my vagina, slowly pumping them in and out to play with me. The pleasure was overwhelming, and moans escaped my lips. Seeing how lost in the sensation I was, he lowered his head to lick me. The sensation of his tongue inside my heat was so intense it nearly made me lose consciousness. He continued to feast on me with his mouth until, with a sudden surge of ecstasy, I reached a climax, my body releasing a flood of moisture.

He then produced his penis and commanded me to take it. I took the semi-erect length into my mouth, and he gripped my head, using the thrust of his hips to drive himself into my mouth. I could feel him growing larger and harder with every stroke until he filled my mouth so completely that he could no longer move. He pulled out, and only then did I realize that his member was a massive, imposing thing.

A flicker of fear made me resist, but he quickly subdued me again. He draped my legs over his shoulders and pressed the head of his cock against my entrance. Perhaps it was because of the lubrication from my recent climax, or perhaps because of my frequent solo play, but despite this being only my second time having sex, his giant member slid smoothly into my vagina. He began to thrust with a steady, powerful rhythm. Though he wasn't fast, he was incredibly forceful, and because of his size, every single stroke hit my very depths. The combination of pain and pleasure was so intense that I began to cry out loudly, forgetting we were in a public department store, though fortunately, the restroom seemed empty.

After about ten minutes of this, he made me stand and face the wall, leaning forward to support myself with my hands. He spread my legs wide and entered me from behind once more. My hips and waist moved instinctively to meet his assault, which only made the pleasure more acute. This time, he increased his pace, and in that position, he drove me to a second climax.

Yet, he seemed far from finished. He lifted me up, and with my legs wrapped tightly around his waist, he continued to pound into me. He licked and sucked at my breasts as he worked, causing me to leak even more fluid until the floor was damp. I wondered how long he would continue like this; I knew I had to make him finish soon. I began to writhe my hips with frantic energy, letting out the most lewd, desperate moans and wearing an expression of pure, overwhelmed ecstasy. Finally, after a dozen more rapid, heavy thrusts, he pulled out and erupted, splashing a hot torrent of semen across my face.

"It's rare to find someone so pleasurable... You're still a student, aren't you, you lustful girl?" He grabbed some toilet paper and gently wiped the semen from my skin.

"Yes... a sophomore," I breathed.

"So young... no wonder you're so tight. But you're not a virgin anymore, are you?"

"Are you going to kill me to keep the secret?"

"Heh, no. A beautiful girl like you, so lewd and without panties... how could I bear to kill you? I'm off."

He slipped out of the restroom quickly. Once I had straightened my clothes, I walked out as if nothing had happened. Looking at my watch, I realized he had been fucking me for over an hour.

That was my second sexual experience. To be strictly accurate, it wasn't a "rape," because I hadn't fought very hard—but that was only because of my own natural lewdness. Anyone else would have struggled desperately. However, calling it "making love" felt wrong since I didn't even know who he was. So, the word "taken" felt more appropriate.

After that, men began to "take" me at regular intervals, and the frequency only increased. There were days when a stranger would take me in the morning, and another would take me in the evening. Some would wait a long time between encounters.

But fortunately, these men always left once they were finished. None of them stole my money, none gave me diseases, and none made me pregnant. Of course, I never called the police, nor did I tell a soul. Everyone continued to see me as just a pretty high school girl who would naturally be a virgin until marriage. But in truth, I was incredibly lustful. I loved being taken by strangers, though I never actively seduced them—because if I did, the thrill of being "taken" would vanish.

To me, being frequently claimed by men was a form of self-validation. It proved that I was a woman of immense attraction—a woman so irresistible that men were willing to risk the crime of assault just to possess me.